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writingsforwhatever · 6 months

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Part 2: Love letters to Matthew (m.s.)

Part 1

Please read the author's note in part 1!

Anyway, enjoy.

Her world seemed to halt as Matt's confession hung in the air. Shock rippled through her, rendering her momentarily speechless. It was a revelation she had never anticipated, and it left her grappling for words.

"Matt," she finally managed to utter, her voice quivering. "I... I don't know what to say."

Matt's gaze remained fixed on her. He wore an expression of vulnerability that was entirely new to her. The weight of his confession bore down on her shoulders, and she could feel her own emotions swelling within her. She had spent years wondering about his feelings, longing for some indication that he shared her sentiments. And now, in this unexpected moment, he had laid bare his heart.

Her voice quivering, with tears already forming in her eyes. "I never knew," she spoke softly, breaking the silence again. "I never knew you felt this way."

The unfairness of the situation overwhelmed her. How could he do this, especially when she had already found a home in another person's arms? It just didn't seem fair. Unfairness and dissatisfaction had always seemed to define her relationship with Matt. It had never been enough.

Seeing him in pain like this, knowing that she had felt the same way for so long, tore at her heart. All those years of hurt, of watching him leave and return, had led up to this very moment. Yet, inexplicably, it still felt like it wasn't enough for either of them.

Matt responded, his tone filled with frustration, "Forget it, it doesn't matter. I'll get over it. I just can't be near you right now; I can't even look at you. It hurts too much. Please, just go."

"Matt, don't do this. Please, just hear me out first." She tried to hold back her emotions, but the tears were already falling. However, he was already on his way to the living room, walking away from her.

He turned around once more, his expression marked by a deep frown. "What could you possibly say? You're going to Europe for two and a half months with Luke! Spare me your pity. I don't need it. Please, leave. Just leave me alone." Matt's words were filled with a mix of pain and exasperation, as he struggled to cope with the situation. Unable to bear the weight of the emotions any longer, she ran past him and out of the house, tears streaming down her face. Matt heard the front door slam shut, and he could hear Chris and Nick calling her name.

Europe was different from any place she'd ever been, olive groves stretched out before her, their silvery leaves shimmering in the sunlight. The gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers, adding to the idyllic atmosphere yet her thoughts often wander off to the boy who was thousands of miles away from her.

Matthew is in love with her. This in fact didn't make things better as much as she thought it would. For years, she had secretly yearned to hear those three little words spill from his lips, believing that it would bring clarity, but it only added a layer of complexity to their relationship.

Matt’s confession had been long-awaited, but she couldn't help but think and feel that distance and time had definitely changed things; he lived on one coast, she was in college meeting new people on the other. No matter how hard she tried, he was drifting away. His love arrived too late. Matt needed to accept this, just as she had quietly done over the years.

She has Luke now. Luke, who loves and cares for her deeply. Their love is quiet and simple but it's sure. Unlike her relationship with Matt, which always felt intricately complicated, Luke's love was a beacon of simplicity and warmth.

The night Matt confessed his feelings, she cried under her covers while Luke, slept soundly beside her, oblivious to the emotional storm that had raged within her. It wasn't how she imagined their friendship would end, but it was inevitable.

Someone always gets hurt.

She knows this.

And it's both of them.

When Luke asked about the stains on her cheeks when she got home, she brushed him off, saying she was emotional about leaving her parents and friends for a few months. As they landed in New York, Luke remained unaware of her hidden sadness and when the plane took off for France, Luke held her hand firmly. Below them, the vibrant city lights of New York City shone brightly, yet her thoughts remained to the boy back in Boston.

She watched Luke's friends, Fiona and Andrew, their laughter echoing in the warm air. The warmth of the sun making everyone's cheeks pink, but her mind was still elsewhere. His words that day lingered like shadows in the sun's gentle glow, reminding her that their friendship could end for good.

"Are you okay?" Luke asked, taking a seat beside her with a freshly made mango shake in hand.

She offered a small smile in response. "Yeah, just feeling a bit homesick. I can't wait to get back home."

Luke returned her smile. "I get it. Home is home, but I'll miss this place for sure. Italy is amazing."

"It really is," she said, her eyes drifting over the scenery in front of them.

Luke shifted the conversation. "Have you talked to your parents yet?"

She nodded. "Yeah, they're doing well. My dad mentioned that Haley has a crush on our neighbor, Josh," she shared, rolling her eyes playfully and letting out a chuckle.

Luke almost choked on his drink, chuckling too. "Oh boy, Josh better watch out."

She nodded, acknowledging that her little sister could be quite a handful at times, but she loved her, nonetheless.

Luke's curiosity turned to her friends. "What about your friends? Chris and his brothers? How are they?"

Her thoughts briefly wandered to a recent text from Alahna. "Alahna visited them in L.A. 2 days ago."

Luke, unaware of her feelings of not wanting to talk about them, continued the conversation. "Nice. How are they?"

"Who?" she asked, momentarily confused, her gaze shifting to the side.

"Chris, Nick, and Matt?" Luke clarified, his eyes lingering on her profile to gauge her reactions. "And Alahna?"

"They're doing great," she replied. "Alahna mentioned they're planning to take her to Beverly Hills before she heads back to Boston."

Luke nodded in understanding. Sensing her desire to change the subject. "You want to swim later?"

Her eyes lit up with excitement as she replied, "Absolutely! Let's do it." Grateful for the subject change she pushed the Matt thoughts in the back of her head.

"You suck at cooking eggs, Alahna." Chris teased, a playful tone in his voice. It was the first week of September 2023, and the late morning sunlight of Los Angeles shone through the kitchen, making the room bright and warm.

"It's not my fault that you scared me. I thought you'd be up later." Alahna defended, grinning.

"I couldn't sleep anymore; you woke me up with all your ruckus here." Chris said lightheartedly. "I'm surprised you didn't wake up Matt over there."

Alahna set up the plates for her and Chris, the newly cooked eggs now a little bit saggy and one slightly burnt. "You know he was up all night?" she whispered, a hint of concern in her voice.

"He was?" Chris asked, sitting down.

"Yeah, I came downstairs to grab a glass of water, and apparently, he saw Luke's post on Snapchat."

"How did you know?"

"He was sitting here. I could see his phone. I recognized that picture because I saw it too just minutes before."

"The... him and?" Chris trailed off, understanding dawning on him. It was a photo of Luke and her kissing at the pool. A sweet, innocent kiss, but it was enough to shatter Matt's heart into pieces.

Alahna sat down and looked Chris in the eyes. "Chris, I forgot to tell you, but remember the time Matt had a girlfriend?"

Chris's eyes locked onto Alahna's, urging her to continue. He remembered those days with the girl from Florida.

"Well, about a month after, I think? I forgot exactly when. It was a long time ago. But Chloe and I met with her, and she admitted that she has been in love with Matt for years. We told her we already knew—" Alahna chuckled, and Chris nodded in agreement.

"What?" Matt's voice echoed from the wall beside his bedroom doorway, leaving Chris and Alahna exchanging shocked expressions.

Matt's voice hung in the air. "Matt," Chris began cautiously, stepping closer to him, "we didn't mean for you to hear that. It's just that Alahna and I were talking, and..."

Matt interrupted, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and pain, "She said that?"

Alahna nodded solemnly, her concern deepening. "Yes, Matt."

Matt's expression tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "How long have you known, Chris?"

Chris sighed sadly, choosing his words carefully. "She didn't admit it to me, but I've always known, you know? Bro, anyone could see it in her face. She's always been about you. For years."

Matt turned away; frustration evident as he ran his hand through his messy hair while he processed what he had just heard. "I can't believe this… I was so blind, and now it's too late," he muttered.

Alahna stood up and walked over to Matt, her voice gentle. "Matt, I'm really sorry you had to find out this way. It wasn't our place to tell you because we know how much it would mean coming from her. She loves you a lot. I hope you know that."

Matt stayed quiet for a moment, lost in thought. It all started to make sense now—the times she turned away or seemed distant when he had a girlfriend back in 9th grade, the fake smiles she wore when he talked about his high school crushes. He felt incredibly stupid, realizing that Nick had been right all along. He was beginning to think he was the most oblivious person on the planet, especially remembering how she had gotten sad when he didn't mention having a girlfriend from Florida. He had misinterpreted her feelings as mere sensitivity.

She had been in love with him for years, and he had been too oblivious to see it. And now, she's with someone else.

"What are you gonna do?" Chris asked, his eyes filled with sympathy as he observed his brother processing the revelation.

Matt sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. "I don't know, Chris," he admitted, uncertainty clouding his thoughts.

"He's not going to do anything, Chris," Nick chimed in, his voice carrying the grogginess of just waking up. His tousled hair and half-asleep appearance drew everyone's attention.

"Nick," Alahna cautioned, her tone barely above a whisper.

Nick shrugged, unfiltered as ever. "What? Matt had his chance, and he missed it. She's happy now. Why would he want to ruin that for her?" he bluntly stated, embodying the frank and opinionated brother he had always been.

Chris, torn between his desire to see them together and the undeniable truth in Nick's words, couldn't help but nod in agreement. Matt had indeed let his opportunity slip away long ago, and now he had to face the consequences of it.

Matt sat down and lowered his head, absorbing his brother's words like a heavy truth he couldn't deny. The weight of missed chances and regret hung in the air.

Alahna exchanged a meaningful glance with Nick, understanding his perspective, even if it stung.

As the morning light crept into the room, the silence continued.

Nick sighed deeply, closing his eyes as to calm himself. This time he spoke with gentleness in his tone, "Look, Matt. I'm not trying to be negative or anything... But I've seen her get hurt over and over again by you. I just- She's with Luke. It would be unfair."

Nick’s straightforwardness, as abrasive as it might have sounded, held an undeniable truth. He was the voice of reason in the room. His message was clear: it would not be fair to all of them.

Matt grumbled, his hands pressing against his forehead in frustration. "I had no idea she loved me, Nick," he admitted with frustration.

Nick looked at him with a sad expression. "We know, and funnily, even your ex could see it," he said softly.

Matt let out a deep sigh remembering the fight he and his ex-girlfriend had when he admitted that he kissed his best friend. "If she's happy, then I'm happy. It's okay. I'll be okay." He stood up, trying to put on a brave face.

The three of them shared knowing looks, aware of the emotions in the room. Chris decided to bring up a painful topic. "Matt, you also need to apologize for what happened back home when you told her to leave."

Matt's cheerful demeanor faltered briefly. "I'll apologize when she gets back from Europe," he replied, not wanting to dwell on the day she had left his house, when he had wanted to chase after her but didn't. He had spent nights crying and regretting what he did, ignoring Chris and Nick's knocks on his door.

As Matt walked toward his room, he added, "I'm going to be okay. Trust me."

Understanding that Matt was only lying to himself, they let it go.

‘Be there in 10 😊 see ya’

She looked at Matt’s text for a few seconds before sighing, a heavy sadness enveloping her. It's the first day of Senior year the final chapter of high school, and here she was, trying to mend her broken heart.

"Are you okay, honey?" Her mother's green eyes full of concern. Beside her mom is Haley's school clothes all folded neatly ready to be worn.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Just not feeling like going to school, that's all," she replied, her gaze fixed on her worn-out Converse.

"Why? Talk to me about it," her mother urged, taking a seat beside her. "Is it about your subjects? Your teachers?"

She sighed again, glancing at the time on her phone. "It's Matt."

Her mother furrowed her eyebrows, clearly lost and confused. "Matt? Did you guys have a fight?"

Since when had Matthew upset her daughter?

"No, Mom. We didn't fight," she replied, impatient. She kept looking out the window, feeling nervous.

"Then why..."

"It's just..." She paused, aware of the curious looks her mom is giving her. "He has a girlfriend, Emily, and she's been with us all summer. He said it's not serious, but I don't know. I don't know why I'm feeling like this." Her shoulders slumped at the little confession, but her mother knew.

Matt was a constant presence in her daughter's life, just as much as his own brothers. They grew up together, celebrated Christmases, birthdays, Thanksgiving, and Halloween — every occasion imaginable.

Her mother, Elizabeth always had a hunch, but she believed they were probably too young to comprehend or understand.

As for Matt, he was bound to break a few hearts, even though Elizabeth hoped her daughter wouldn't be one of them, yet she understood that it was inevitable. Her daughter and the blue-eyed boy were as thick as thieves. They were inseparable. And so now that she has confessed without really saying it, she knew.

And she just hopes the fall wouldn't be too high and prays that she'll find the strength to weather the heartbreak that comes with it.

"Why? What are you feeling?" She asked gently, hoping but not pushing her to open up.

"I don't know. I'm confused and I'm hurt. I'm hurt that he has a girlfriend," she said with a sad smile.

Bingo.

"Oh, honey." Elizabeth enveloped her into a hug, soothingly rubbing her back. "How long have you been feeling this way?"

"Months."

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"Of course not," she replied, standing up and shaking her head. "I'd never. He's going to want to not be friends with me, Mom. I know Matt."

"If it's bothering you so much, just try. I'm sure he'll understand, sweetheart." Her mom stood up too, trying to catch her eyes. "This is Matt we're talking about, aren't we? He cares about you. He'll unders-"

"No, no way!" She argued, already walking towards the front door. "Just forget I said this, mom. I'll get over it."

Elizabeth could only watch her daughter walk away before she could say goodbye, anxiously waiting for the familiar car that had been arriving at their house like clockwork ever since Matt had learned to drive.

Chris runs down the stairs at 7 am in the morning. "Matt, let's go we're gonna be late."

Nick was already in the car, grumbling. "What took you so long? And who are you texting?"

Matt rolled his eyes, inserting the key into the ignition and starting the car. "Can you shut your mouth Nick? It's too early for you to be talking this loud."

It was clear that Matt's feeling anxious by going back to school again. People just never made sense to him, especially people from high school. He hated it. Hated them.

As they made a stop to pick up Alahna and Emily, the road is still slightly damp from last night's rain. Gradually, a sense of realization began to dawn upon Matt - It was their finaly year in high school, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for it.

Meanwhile, she watched as Matt's car approached her driveway. She couldn't deny the sinking feeling in her chest as she saw Emily sitting in the back with Alahna. Of course, she's here. As the car pulled up, she took a deep breath and mirrored Nick's cheerful laughing smile and mood.

"Hey youuuu." Nick teased as she climbed to sit beside him. "Missed you."

"You literally just saw me last week, Nick." She chuckled, glancing at Matt from the corner of her eyes, not fully acknowledging him. "Hi Chris."

"Hi bestie, long time no see." Chris turned his whole body to look and flash a playful smile at her.

"Shut up."

She exchanged waves with Emily and Alahna. From the driver's seat, Matt felt a sense of confusion wash over him. He couldn't help but wonder why she didn't even greet him.

In November 2023, she saw Matthew again.

When Chris mentioned that they were coming home back in October, she remained resolute in her decision to remain confined within her school dorm. She didn't want to meet them and see Matt. Just the thought of last June, when he confessed his love right before she left for Europe with Luke, still haunted her.

She sometimes wonders if he did it because he was being mean, or he just doesn't want to see her happy. Cause why now? Why now that she has already found someone that truly loves her?

He was unfair, she thought. The bad timing of his love just broke her heart over again.

The kiss last year, Matt's girlfriend and now this - It was all cruel and she couldn't endure it any longer, especially when she has spent her entire life loving him. She deserved to be happy.

And so, she ignored their texts. She knew she was being a bad friend by not replying. Matt made several attempts to reach out, offering apologies in the weeks following her return from Italy, but she ignored them still. They stopped eventually and she couldn't deny, it made her a little sad.

Her plan to distance herself from Matt and anyone connected to him was successful until Thanksgiving in November arrived.

In all her mother's holiday spirit, Elizabeth had extended yet another invitation to the boys' family for the upcoming occasion after seeing Marylou at the grocery store two weeks ago. This had been their tradition for years as family friends and Elizabeth was completely oblivious to the inner turmoil her daughter had been wrestling within for months.

However, everything changed when she heard Nick's familiar laughter emanating from downstairs, causing her to freeze in her tracks, despite being already halfway down the staircase. She stood there, frozen, her eyes locked with the boy she had painstakingly avoided for the past few months. Matt held her gaze and for a moment, it was like they're the only people in the room.

One thing stood out - Matt looked different and she couldn't help but notice it. He was clad in a blue flannel shirt and jeans, a combination that remarkably complemented his features. It seemed almost impossible, but the outfit made his blue eyes even bluer. On that chilly Thanksgiving night in Boston, Matthew Sturniolo appeared almost angelic, emitting an air of maturity that was a far cry from the Matt she remembered from their high school days. The years had been kind to him, and her heart ached with the realization of just how much she had missed him even though it had only been a few months. She realized that, deep down, she still cared about him, and it will never change. Matt will always have place in her heart that he owns.

Walking down the stairs, she couldn't help but feel like a girl going to prom, with her date waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Only, in this case, her date was a handsome, blue-eyed boy wearing a pair of New Balance sneakers.

The room’s silence was broken only by the soft murmur of the exchanged how are yous and the pounding of her heart. Chris, ever the mediator, exchanged a quick glance with Nick, and then he cleared his throat, attempting to ease the tension in the room.

She took a deep breath and smiled when he was inches away from her, she couldn’t help but think that this Thanksgiving might be different from all the others, and it had nothing to do with the Roast Chicken with Maple Butter on the table and Chris’s smirk.

As everyone in the room felt the awkwardness, they all retreated to the cozy living room, leaving her and Matt alone. Nick and Chris gave her comforting hugs before following their own parents, Nick shot her a look that said, "We'll discuss this later," while Chris wore a sly grin that she couldn't resist rolling her eyes at. Oh, how she missed them terribly.

Finally, Matt broke the silence, keeping a safe distance from her. "Hi," he said, his voice carrying a mixture of longing and regret, "It's been too long."

Her throat felt dry, but she managed a small smile in return. "Yeah, it has," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "You look... good."

She couldn’t believe that after all this time, Matt still had that effect on her.

Matt chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving her face. "I could say the same about you," he said, his gaze softening. "Different but still the same you I knew."

The silence after Matt spoke hung in the air, both of them seemingly lost. The other room beside them remained hushed, everyone subtly listening to their conversation.

Before she could respond, Matt cleared his throat, mentally scolding himself for making her uncomfortable with his feelings. "How was Europe?"

"Europe was incredible," she replied, briefly breaking eye contact with him. "It was beautiful."

"I'm sure it was," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

The way he said it, so softly, made her glance up at him again only to find him looking at her still. Matt smiled, a hint of resignation in his expression as he nodded and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. It was now his turn to break eye contact. "I'm sure it was," he repeated, the realization dawning on her.

Europe. Matt. Their plan. She cringed.

Just as she was about to say something again, Chris interrupted, his voice carrying a teasing tone, “Hey, you two, hate to break up the reunion, but dinner’s ready.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. “Alright, Chris, we’re coming,” she replied, grateful for the interruption.

Matt shot his brother a knowing look and smiled.

After the lively dinner, with Matt and Chris by her side, making jokes about missing each other, and her dad sharing a funny memory, the tension faded away quickly and like always, the usual routine after such gatherings – they all gathered in the living room to play different board games. She glanced around, seeing Nick and Justin on the other side of the room. Meanwhile, Chris was engrossed in conversation with both her dad and his, laughter filled the room.

However, even amid the happy ambiance, a sad thought worked its way to her mind – how much longer would these gatherings remain a constant in their lives? They were like a lifeline to her memories of childhood. She could come to terms with not ending up with Matt but the notion that this might never happen again bothered her.

Nick's voice abruptly pulled her from her thoughts. "Matt wants to talk to you," he whispered.

"Huh? Where is he?" She scanned the room, her confusion growing.

Nick couldn't help but chuckle at her bewildered state as he patted her shoulder. "You're zoning out, girl."

"I'm sorry. Where is he, Nick?"

"He's in the car, waiting for you," Nick pointed at the front door.

"What? Why? Is he crazy? It's freezing out!" She hurriedly searched for her coat from the other room, ready to rush out, but Nick stopped her before she could leave. "Just talk to Matt, okay? Sort things out. Be patient with him. You mean a lot to him, and I know you still care. If I'm really wrong and you're not into him anymore, please, just let him down gently."

Speechless, her throat went dry. In the background, she could hear their families talking, soft chatters filling the room with warmth. She met Nick's eyes once more, nodding in understanding. "I love him, Nick."

This time, it was her response that made Nick hug her. "I know."

He eventually released her, "Just be honest with Matt, he can take it."

"And be honest with yourself." Nick added, his gaze gentle but knowing.

It was clear that Nick could see thru her facade. She had never stopped loving Matt, and she couldn't even imagine the day she won't. With a final glance to her friend she had known her whole life, she stepped outside, finding Matt in his phone as he sat inside the car.

"Matthew Bernard Sturniolo, I swear to God, I'm going to kill you," she exclaimed, her voice echoing through the house. Her furious footsteps reverberated as she chased Matt around, her sock-clad feet making a soft padding sound against the wooden floor. She could already sense Nick's growing frustration and annoyance about what could be causing this commotion on a quiet afternoon.

As she watched Matt's mop of brown hair rushing down the stairs, she couldn't help but burst into laughter at how silly he looked. She knew she couldn't compete with Matt's long strides.

"Matt, I'm dead serious," she called out, following him to the kitchen and towards his brother's room. However, it was too late; he was already halfway to Nick's, his laughter filling the room as he locked the door behind him.

"What the fuck is going on?" Nick stood up, clearly taken aback by the noise. He walked towards his door to unlock it, allowing her to come in.

It had been a warm Saturday afternoon when Matt had invited her to hang out at his house. The day had started off peacefully, with the two of them lying on his bed but then Matt had snatched her phone from her hand after noticing she had been on Snapchat for 10 minutes, giggling.

"Seriously, Matt, this isn't funny. Give me my phone!" Her voice pleading.

Matt chuckled, raising his hand to signal "wait" when Nick made an attempt to snatch the phone from his grasp. His eyes darted over the Snapchat conversation at lightning speed, a glint of mischief in his eyes when he glanced back at her.

"Come on, Matt, give her the phone back," Nick groaned, evidently tired. "What are you even looking at?"

"She has a crush on that football guy, Daniel," Matt chuckled again.

"The senior?" Nick asked, an amused and surprised expression forming as he turned to look at her.

She protested, "No, I don't!" Taking a step closer to Matt, she added, "Give it back, Matt!"

"Just a sec," he hushed her once more, retreating against the wall, eyes fixed on her phone screen. He finally looked back at her, his smile fading. "He asked you out to Homecoming?"

Nick smirked at her. "He did? Oh my goodness."

She sighed, embarrassment washing over her. "Well, I'm not even sure if I'm going."

"Why not? Daniel Thompson is hot." Nick replied.

She blushed, her face turning hot. Once again, Matt shifted his attention from the phone to her, locking eyes with her. He held her gaze and with a shrug, tossed her phone onto Nick's bed. "He's a jerk."

With a groan, she reached for her phone. "Ugh. I hate you so much."

She walked out of the room, leaving the two of them behind.

Matt swiftly followed her to the living room and back upstairs to his room, where they had been hanging out just five minutes earlier. "You never told me you'd been talking to him."

Rolling her eyes, she started going up the stairs. Her back to him. "I don't have to tell you everything, you know."

"So what? Are you guys a thing now?" Matt asked, his brows furrowed. A subtle hint of jealousy in his expression.

She continued walking towards his room, yearning for the comfort of his bed. Ready to be swallowed whole by his comforters. "No, we're not."

With a frown, she turned to face him. "God, you're so annoying, Matt. Why do you care? And he's not a jerk, for your information. You don't even know him."

Upon arriving in Matt's room, he closed the door and watched her climb back into his bed, grabbing her phone. With a dismissive roll of his eyes, he joined her on the bed. "Yes, he is. Oh my God. Did you not hear what he did to Stacy Martin last year?"

"They'd broken up when he did that."

"Whatever, I'm just saying he's not a good guy," he frowned, his eyes fixed on her face.

"What's your issue with Daniel? Can't I have a date? He's the only one who asked me out, you know," she stated matter-of-factly, sounding a bit sad. Matt could see her turn away from him, wounded by her own confession.

"Are you kidding me? I'm sure someone else would. Just not Daniel fucking Thompson, jesus," Matt muttered. He knew he was being unreasonably harsh, but he couldn't fathom why she chose Daniel Thompson as her date. Of all people!

"Enough, Matt. You don't know anything."

"I don't know anything? You don't even know he threw his chips at me in 3rd grade!"

"Oh my God. So this is about what happened in 3rd grade? You guys were 8 years old! Holy crap," she stood up, leaving. "I'm going to Nick's room. You're so annoying."

Matt was left momentarily speechless as he watched her walked out of the room. "I'm just trying to look out for you," he called after her.

Turning around to face him, arms crossed. "You don't have to. I can handle it myself."

"You're my best friend, I just care about you." Matt whispered.

Feeling her heart break at his words, she replied, "If I'm your best friend, then why did you ask Nicole out?"

Matt groaned, pinching his forehead in frustration. "It's not the same. Nicole is different."

A heavy silence enveloped them. She regretted opening this can of worms. Matt had no idea how deeply it had hurt her when she found out that he asked this girl out for homecoming. He could ask anyone, doesn’t matter if it’s not her, just not Nicole, but he still did.

"She hates me, Matt," she shot back, a mixture of anger and frustration on her face.

"No, she doesn't!" Matt whispered loudly, his eyes pleading as he defended.

"Fuck you. I'm leaving."

Matt watched her rush down the stairs, slamming his front door. He sighed, running his hands through his hair. Chris came out of his own room, hearing everything.

"Is your girlfriend mad at you again?" he teased.

"Shut up, Chris."

"I told you, Matt. She likes you."

"Shut the fuck up, Chris!”

Meanwhile, Nick watched the exchange from the sidelines, a knowing smile playing on his lips. As the door closed behind Matt, he couldn't help but think that perhaps there was more to their friendship than meets the eye. But he decided to keep that to himself for now and let them figure it out on their own.

As she walked down her steps, thoughts of Luke consumed her. Luke, who was now her ex-boyfriend, remained blissfully oblivious of the ongoing chaos, primarily centered around her and Matt.

When she was about to open the passenger door, she found Matt already extending his arms to open it for her.

"Hey."

"Hi," she replied offering a small smile as she settled into her seat. She watched Matt attentively as he took a moment to collect himself, fully aware that this night could either make or break her. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah," Matt whispered, nodding. His fingers restlessly fidgeting.

She nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"I wanted to apologize for last time. What I did was uncalled for. I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I'm truly, deeply sorry."

"Matt—"

"Let me finish because if I don't say this now, I'll never get the chance to say it again," he cut her off, lowering his gaze to his knuckles. Slowly, he turned to face her entirely, and she couldn't help but notice the scent of his shampoo and the faint flush on his cheeks and lips from the cold.

"I'm sure you already know where I'm going with this, right?" He asked, his eyes locking onto hers through his lashes. She didn't know if it was the way he's looking at her or the nervous fidgeting of his fingers, but she swore her heart never beat this fast.

"Listen, it all came crashing down on me. All those years of stalling, all this denial. It's like my eyes were closed and when I opened it, you're all I could see. God, this is so weird, but I love you, okay?" Matt rambled and took a deep breath. "You're my best friend and I'm in love with you. How crazy is that? I thought that only happens in movies."

"Matt—"

"And I hate myself for it. I swear I'm not saying this because I'm expecting you to feel the same way. I'll get over this, alright? Just give me time."

"Matt—"

"...because I can't lose you. You mean so much to me. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself—"

She replied with an eye roll, her fingers clutching the collar of his flannel shirt. At that very moment, it was as though the entire world had faded away,

The kiss was a culmination of all the pent-up longing they had held onto. For Matt, this moment had been a year in the making since that unforgettable night in L.A. The soft pressure of their lips meeting perfectly is making her go crazy. He was initially taken aback, but his hands instinctively found their place on her neck. His fingers caressing her cheeks, making her stomach tingly from the warm she's feeling all over her body. She had to break the kiss off to breathe, but Matt pulled her back. "The second time's even better," he whispered to himself causing her to blush.

Matthew Sturniolo, in his awkward nature, didn't know why he was so natural at kissing her and how easy it felt. The kiss was tender and heated, leaving them both breathless. She rested her right hand on his shoulder, feeling the soft fabric of his shirt.

And then, as if Matt couldn't make her melt any further, he spoke in the softest, most loving voice she had ever heard from him. "Come closer.”

Matt traced her bottom lip, eyes never leaving her parted lips. “You have no idea how much I love you. I’m sorry if I made it seem like I regret kissing you last year because I don’t.”

He kissed her once more, this time with a slow, gentle tenderness that made her feel like she might dissolve into a puddle from the softness of it. “I could never.”

“You’re driving me crazy, Matthew,” she murmured foolishly, her mouth still entwined with his.

With a gentle chuckle, he broke off their kiss and locked his gaze onto her, making her feel a bit shy. "So does this mean you feel the same..."

"Oh my god, Matt." She shook her head, smiling. "I've been waiting for you to say these things since high school."

"Wait, what?"

“You really think I’m not head over heels in love with your dumb fucking ass?” She playfully rolled her eyes, enjoying his reactions.

“Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that?”

"Matt, first of all, you're incredibly dense and second, even your grandma knows it."

He sighed, remembering the times he had talked with his brothers, even his mom. "Even grammie?!"

She groaned, covering her face. "Maaatttt," she muttered.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Matt smiled softly, his cheeks matching the blush that was forming on her face. He reached for her hands, intertwining his fingers with her. "For everything. I was so blind..."

Before he could continue, she interrupted him with another kiss, and just as it was about to deepen, she pulled away, whispering and giggling, "Took you long enough."

Matt was the first one through the door, leading the way with her hand tightly held in his. A heartwarming scene unfolded before them as their entire family stood there, all sharing knowing smiles, and watching in hushed anticipation. It was Matt's father who couldn't contain himself any longer and yelled, "Finally!" which was met with a chorus of cheers and clapping.

Chris approached them first with open arms, enveloping Matt in a bear hug and then her, a big grin on his face as he playfully teased, "Fucking finally."

"It's about time!" Her dad chimed in with a whistle. "Woohoo! I knew it!"

Her cheeks turned a shade of pink, and she buried her face in Matt's arms, muttering. "Oh my god, dad."

"aww" and "finally" echoed around them making the atmosphere more joyful than ever.

As Matt held her close, she couldn't help but think about the letters she'd show him later.

On that cold November night in 2023, Matthew Sturniolo officially became hers.

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo x you #OK im tired #chris sturniolo x reader

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ariadnelives · 19 days

Text

Dokkaebi Fire - A Short Story

Author's Note: The bulk of this story takes place during the events of "Force Majeure," directly between chapters 8 and 9, during the crew's time in hiding in Xiagu. It is not intended to be read in sequence. If you'd like to catch up on the series so far, you can do so on ao3 or tumblr.

“Cookie?” Pilar called into the flat as she entered, not waiting to be let in. “It's me today. Ariadne's making final preparations for her surgery tomorrow, but she'll be by as soon as she's back on her feet.”

Aoibheann sat on the armchair in the living room, pointed at the television which appeared to be carrying a local news broadcast from one of Saturn's other moons. She had a blanket draped over her lap, and she watched the news broadcast idly, taking in none of it.

“Remember, starting tomorrow, Ariadne won't remember anything beyond the six-month point in our stay here, and we have to keep it that way, so, be careful what you say around her.” Pilar laughed without joy.

Aoibheann did not.

“You know,” Pilar tacked on, “I'm a complete liar. You could dime out the whole plan and I'm pretty sure me and Ari would absolutely leap for joy as long as it meant you were talking again.”

Aoibheann glanced over at Pilar wistfully, dark circles under her eyes, but said nothing. These little responses indicated their old friend could still hear them in there, that they could get through to her, even if she couldn't muster the strength to respond. She'd barely spoken since they lost the station. She was usually a tightly-wound powder keg, full of fire and passion, and she had to direct it towards her purpose or else she’d explode. Now, it was like all that fire inside her had gone out, and all that was left of her was an exhausted shell of a woman.

She seemed able to move around on her own, but rarely found the motivation to do so. She had grown somewhat thin and gaunt, as she only ate when fed, so every day, Pilar or Ariadne or one of her apprentices would stop by to see her and make sure she ate. Sasha had been spreading herself far too thin on Ariadne's project, but still found time to check in on her and monitor her physical health. Her apprentices had removed all sharp objects, belts, and shoelaces from the premises, but Pilar thought that was overkill. She had known Aoibheann long enough to know she would never physically harm herself. Still, it didn't make it easy to watch her torture herself like this.

Pilar sat next to her, and gently took her hand.

“I hate having to feed you this stuff, Cookie,” she said, opening up a small gray package she'd brought with her. “Replicated MREs. No wonder Baltimore and Beam went to a convenience store twice a week when they were in the army.”

Aoibheann looked with disdain at the lump of meat before her, served with a mush that could only be described as “prepared grain.” She hated eating it as much as Pilar hated serving it to her.

In their small hidden town of Xiagu, all of the food came out of the replicators. Xiagu had a surplus of energy, with its passive solar collection and years of nobody to use the stored power, so nobody was worried about the expenditure of creating food and water from reserves.

Back on the station, they had only managed to earmark power for replicator use two years previously. Like most spacecraft, all of the water fixtures were powered by replicators, generating as much water as needed from a stored bank of energy, which was in turn refilled by a device in the drains which converted waste-water into energy. The food replicator could make prepared meals, but crew members would only be allowed to use it if they could make up the energy cost. This happened pretty naturally, as everybody had to use the bathroom regularly and could credit this to their account, and had the handy benefit of encouraging people to clean up after themselves-- every time you emptied your trash into the energy-reclamation chute, you added replicator energy to your canteen account.

However, back home, most people didn't bother to use the replicators, because truly, Cookie's food was better fresh than anything they could produce, and she loved making it. Here in Xiagu, however, the replicators had nothing but military-grade “Meals Ready to Eat” and raw ingredients programmed into them. When the town was alive, there had been gardens to produce the vegetables, and people to tend them, harvest them, and cook them in the many small restaurants. Now, all that was left was replicators.

Cookie's star apprentice, Yellow, had been put in charge of the replicators while Cookie was indisposed, and had very few requests for anything other than the prepared MREs since they'd been there. Everyone on the crew was required to learn to cook, from Cookie, and nobody particularly felt up to trying to fill her shoes. Everyone had pretty much accepted meals of nondescript lumps of meat, vegetables, and starches on the firm belief that any day now, Cookie would be back on her feet, doing what she loved.

Yellow was the one in charge of food distribution, and had desperately been asking Ariadne to authorize them to reopen Cookie's kitchen, with her at the helm, until Cookie was well enough to resume her post. It's what Cookie would want, she insisted, but Ariadne was taking Cookie's condition unusually poorly, and had refused to allow the kitchen to operate without Cookie present. Yellow was frustrated, but understood. Nobody would feel right about having communal meals like before without Cookie.

Pilar carefully cut up the packaged meal and fed bites to Cookie, who halfheartedly complied with each bite. She offered her a cup of tea, which Cookie held for warmth but wouldn't drink without prompting.

“Look, Aoibheann...” Pilar said, “I know you're not well. I know this has been harder on you than anyone.”

Cookie met her gaze.

“But I don't...” Pilar began, and choked. “I don't think Ariadne will go through with this with you in this condition. She cares about you too much. You know what you mean to her. To me. She's not going to put herself at risk until she knows you're okay.”

Aoibheann looked downcast.

“She needs you,” Pilar whispered. “I need you. Please come back to us.”

****

Aoibheann's mind drifted back to when she’d met Ariadne and Pilar, thirteen years previously. She had been living on the streets for two years and had only passing contact with Pilar. She had been homeless since the Hanguk-Éire massacre, when Susan Weaver’s bombs had incinerated her family’s house and restaurant, left her and her mother destitute, and claimed her father’s life. Her mother had turned to drugs to cope with the loss, and ultimately found herself bleeding out in the gutter after an altercation with a pusher who she couldn’t pay for her latest fix.

She had distrusted the new girl at first. In her experience, another new person living under the overpass was another person who might get to the good scraps before her. She didn’t need any more competition. There was, however, a certain unspoken respect between her and the Aguilar girls. They were the only kids living on the streets of that particular block, and they had to look out for one another. They didn’t talk much, but they had struck up an arrangement. Pilar needed to go foraging to keep Sasha fed, and knowing that she would have to dig through trash bins and steal from loosely-guarded shops to make this happen, she felt it was too dangerous to bring her nine-year-old sister along with her.

So, she struck up an arrangement with Aoibheann: if she kept Sasha safe while she went out on runs, Pilar would try and steal a little extra food so Aoibheann could eat as well. Pilar and Sasha had been squatting in an abandoned house on a nearby side-street, and Aoibheann could crash there in exchange for keeping an eye on Sasha. It was shelter, and food, and it was a better deal than she was getting anywhere else. Under normal circumstances, Aoibheann would’ve developed a mighty crush on Pilar, but crushes were the sorts of things normal girls got to have. Aoibheann needed to focus on staying alive.

The new girl had been Racquel when they met. She had been raving about how the world was going to end, a secret conspiracy to reign atomic hellfire onto the bio-domes. It was the standard fare of the doomsaying lunatic, so nobody paid her much mind, but she’d named Ramos and Ramos specifically in her raving, and that caught Pilar’s attention. Nobody hated the Ramoses like Pilar, although Aoibheann didn’t yet know why.

So, Pilar and Racquel started going out on runs together. Suddenly, they were bringing back more than enough food, not only for the four of them, but they even got to share it with the others under the bridge. One day, they came home clean, wearing fresh clothes, and carrying a bundle of new clothes under their arm. They told her that Racquel’s name was Ariadne now, and that they would be needing her help a lot more often. They’d found some sort of mentor, who would “get them out of here,” but they’d need to spend hours, even days, with her at a time.

Aoibheann wasn’t a fool. She knew that if they succeeded in getting out of here, that she would be left behind. She couldn’t, however, risk being thrown out on the street. She’d watch Sasha and crash on the floor of this abandoned townhouse as long as they’d let her.

Sasha seemed like such a little kid then, although Aoibheann knew on a logical level that she was only three years older.

“If you could be anything in the world when you grow up,” Sasha had asked her one day, while the other girls had been away at their mysterious mentor’s for a few days, “what would you be?”

“I’m just trying to grow up,” Aoibheann said, “if I can make it that far, I’ll see what I can get.”

Sasha scrunched her nose. “You’re not playing the game right.”

“I’m being realistic,” Aoibheann said.

Sasha breezed past this. “I’m going to be a doctor when I grow up.”

Aoibheann considered pointing out that Sasha had a third-grade education and no money, but thought better of it, and instead just sighed. “Well, it’d be a crying shame if you starved to death before then,” she said. “Let’s see what your sister left us.”

Aoibheann looked at the handful of scraps Pilar had left on the table. Pilar had stolen them an entire rotisserie chicken, which Aoibheann had admonished her for-- the abandoned house did not have a working refrigerator, she pointed out, so she’d have to use the meats straightaway or they would quickly spoil and attract flies-- and several cans of diced white potatoes, which Pilar figured would keep Sasha’s stomach full, but Aoibheann pointed out had very little nutritional value. This was, of course, in addition to the six chocolate bars Pilar had, being thirteen years old, been sure to nab on her little excursion.

Aoibheann had nothing in the way of seasonings, except for a variety of salt and pepper packets she’d taken from a loosely-supervised outdoor seating area at a nearby restaurant, as well as, on one extremely lucky day, three sets of cheap silverware and a bottle of hot sauce.

She did, however, have access to a small metal trash can with a lid, water from a neighbor’s hose spigot-- Aoibheann felt bad about this, because water was so tightly regulated on Mars and the owner would surely be steeply charged for the waste, but this was a low priority compared to their survival-- and an old gas stove that the new girl had rigged up to illegally supply them with heat.

Aoibheann had cut the meat off the bones of the rotisserie chicken and plopped the bones into the cold water with all the fat and gristle, and opened up a few of the salt packets into the mixture. She put it on the stove and let it heat up to a boil, then turned down the gas and watched as the mixture turned a translucent yellow. She eventually fished out the bones with her knife, and dumped all the potatoes, and the meat from the chicken, into the broth.

After it had stewed for a while, Aoibheann took a taste. It was thin, watery, and somewhat bland, but it would do for the time being. Using the now-empty potato cans, she scooped out two servings of soup and handed one to Sasha.

“Now, we just have to keep it just hot enough,” Aoibheann said, “and it won’t go bad. We’ll be able to eat this until your sister gets back.”

Sasha took a taste. “It’s…” she had been taught, if she had nothing nice to say, to say nothing at all, so she didn’t finish her sentence. Aoibheann had spent enough time with her to know what she meant.

“It’s a tick bland like this,” Aoibheann shrugged, passing her the hot sauce. “Give it a dash of this, it’ll be a sight better.”

Sasha complied, tasted it, and her face made it clear that while it was in fact a sight better, it still wasn’t quite tasty.

“My mom used to make potatoes with a cheesy sauce,” Sasha said sadly. “They were really spicy. Pilar’s favorite food.”

“My dad was more of a cabbage man,” Aoibheann said. “My mom handled the meats, him the veggies. Hanguk-Éire cuisine is… all about things coming together in the pot.”

Sasha added a little more hot sauce to her soup.

“I wanted to be a cook,” Aoibheann said. “Like my folks, before, all this. My dad was a cook. His dad was a cook. His dad was a cook. And so on and so on, all the way back to our homelands.”

“You could still be a cook,” Sasha said, eyeing her soup. “...someday.”

“Well, we’ll have to get your sister to scrounge us up some quality ingredients, then, won’t we?” Aoibheann said.

The two of them finished their soup, and Aoibheann noted that it was getting late, and insisted that Sasha go to bed. Sasha refused without a story, and Aoibheann tossed back a “tough titties” which was met with an infuriatingly irresistible pout.

“FINE,” Aoibheann groaned, and improvised a story.

“Once upon a time, there was a kingdom,” Aoibheann began. This was how all her stories began, they all took place in this kingdom. “The kingdom, you see, had been through every horror you could put a kingdom through. It had been invaded. It had been burned. It had been taken over and torn in half and put back together again more times than you could count. Every evil overlord you could name had taken the place over, at one time or another. So the people in the kingdom, they were always sad, and they started to wonder, would they ever be free? And then, one day, they found out, there was another kingdom, just like them, halfway round the world, and they decided to join forces. But then, after a few decades of unity and prosperity, the entire world fell into darkness, and the people of the two kingdoms had to run. They ran far away, and found a new promised land in the desert, and built a home there.”

“Then, one day, in the new kingdom, there was a little girl who lived in a little house with her ma’ and her da’, and she loved her life. The dark creature from the old world, it caught up with them. It took her da’, and burned down her house, and she and her mother had to go out into the woods.”

Sasha looked scared. “The woods?”

“Aye,” Aoibheann said, “and her mother dear didn’t last long. There were these flares of Dokkaebi Fire, the goblin lights, and mother dear thought surely she could follow them to safety… Pretty soon, the little girl was all on her own.”

“I don’t like this story,” Sasha said, trying not to betray how frightened she was.

Aoibheann sighed. “Neither do I. But see, the story has a happy ending.”

“Happy?” Sasha asked.

“Happy enough,” Aoibheann replied, “for now. See, the little girl knew not to follow the goblin lights. She ran into the dark, and there she found… a brave, dashing adventurer. A gorgeous girl, noble and good, who’d been lost in the woods herself.”

Sasha’s eyes brightened at this. “Did she have a sword?”

“A little one, aye,” Aoibheann laughed. “And she was on a quest, to find a way out of the woods. But the problem was, she had to look after a sweet, wee little baby, and couldn’t leave it long enough to make any real progress. So the little girl, she’d faced all the darkness in the world. She could handle a wee little baby! She agreed to take care of the baby while the adventurer looked for a way to save herself and the little one.”

“Did she find a way out?”

“Someday she will,” Aoibheann said, “but all she found so far was… a sorceress.”

“This story has everything,” Sasha said.

“The sorceress was as beautiful as the adventurer, and sharp as a tack, but she was untrained. Powerful magic, but she didn’t know how to use it.” Aoibheann explained, “so, together, they managed to track down the Baba Yaga, a wise but crafty old witch, who could teach the sorceress and adventurer how to find the way.”

“And the little girl?” Sasha asked.

Aoibheann thought about this. “The little girl gets to spend time with the sorceress, and the adventurer, and that sweet wee little baby,” she said, “and she appreciates the time she has with them. Someday, they’ll find their way out, and she’ll still be in the woods, but she’ll always be glad to have met them. The end.”

Sasha crinkled her nose. “That’s a bad ending,” Sasha said bluntly. “The little girl should just leave the woods with them. Then find the creature that took her house, and kill it.”

“And how’s she gonna do that?” Aoibheann laughed.

“The adventurer and the sorceress will help her!” Sasha said. “Maybe the Baby Yaga can tell her some spells!”

“Baba Yaga,” Aoibheann corrected. “Okay, so say she does. Say she tells the adventurer and the sorceress everything that happened, and they go slay the evil creature. What happens next?”

Sasha thought about this. “Maybe they fight another creature,” she said. “An octopus?”

“Why are they fighting an octopus?” Aoibheann asked, still chuckling.

“It’s guarding a treasure,” Sasha said as though it were the most obvious thing in the universe. “You have heard a story before, right?”

“Fair enough,” Aoibheann said. “And then, say, they beat all the creatures. What then?”

“Happily ever after,” Sasha said triumphantly.

“Well, you’re a sight more deft at this than I am,” Aoibheann said. “Let’s get you to sleep, I’ll do better next time.”

Aoibheann swaddled Sasha in the dirty, tattered blanket that they’d found a few weeks earlier, sat out in the hallway, and began to cry.

In the present day, Aoibheann thought back to her sobbing in the hallway. At the time, she was convinced that Ariadne and Pilar would surely abandon her when they finished training with Blue. When they started building their first spacecraft in an alley under the bridge, she’d defended it from thieves and scrappers at knifepoint, even thinking that they would use it to leave her behind. When, against all odds, Ariadne had built a spaceworthy craft, she was stunned into silence when they invited her along.

“Don’t be dumb,” Pilar had said, extending a hand to her “of course we’re taking you with us. We started this crew to keep Sasha fed. How are we gonna do that without a cook?”

And so, Cookie had been born. As the goblin lights lit the way to ruin, Pilar’s hand pulled her onto the right path.

****

Now, Pilar’s hand was busy cutting up bites of nondescript meat and placing them into Aoibheann’s mouth.

“Do you remember… back in our street urchin days,” Pilar asked, “Me and Ariadne would come home from Blue’s, put Sasha to bed, and then you, me, and her would stay up late gossiping. We’d show you all the cool stuff Blue had taught us in our lessons, and you’d take the ingredients we’d stolen for you-- better ones, after you started giving me lists-- and you’d teach us how to cook like you.”

Aoibheann almost smiled, and Pilar saw it.

“Alright, you’re right,” Pilar said, cutting her another bite and placing it in her mouth. “Nobody can cook like you. Don’t let it go to your head. But you taught us to cook better than most people.”

Aoibheann accepted another bite wordlessly.

“You know, Ariadne used to use Blue’s tricks to fix up that abandoned house, Alan’s house, and I used to show you all the martial arts tricks, and you’d be rapt with attention,” Pilar said. “When me and Ari started dating, we had a friendly debate about it. See, I thought you had a crush on her, and she thought you had a crush on me. Joke’s on us, turns out you were more than capable of having both.”

Aoibheann came close to smiling again.

“Funny, that’s a fond memory now. Back then, it was the worst year of our life,” Pilar said. “Wonder what we’ll remember fondly from now, when we’re older.”

Aoibheann’s fractional smile faded away. She couldn’t imagine anything worth cherishing from this time. But then, she couldn’t back then, either.

“And we don’t have to talk about…” Pilar cut herself off. “I mean, the… what we’ve had together… The unspoken closeness between the three of us. Rare as it might be that we’ve acted on it, it’s still special to me. To us.The problem has never been that we don’t feel about you, the way you feel about us. If you wanted... what’s between the three of us... to be more, it’d be yours in a heartbeat.”

Aoibheann looked down at her lap.

“We’ve always loved you, Cookie,” she explained. “And don’t get twisted up on the definitions. Every sense of the word. Whatever you’re thinking I surely can’t mean… I mean it. I don’t know what’s going on in your head. I just hate to think that… I mean… we’re going into the most dangerous time we’ve ever faced. If something happens, to me or to Ari… I just want to know you know what you mean to us. To me.”

Pilar gave her another bite, and Aoibheann didn’t fight her on it.

“Do you remember our wedding?” Pilar asked, and laughed. “Of course you do. Hard to forget something like that. Do you remember how angry you were that we wouldn’t let you cook us a grand feast?”

There was a spark in her eyes that demonstrated that she had not, in fact, entirely let this go.

“We stole the supplies for hamburgers from a local grocery store, and made Beam cook them,” Pilar said. “We actually almost got caught, pulled over for speeding on the way home. Ariadne told the cop her name was Ariadne Baltimore. Small town, local cops, everybody knew their parents, they figured they’d just miscounted the sisters, and let her go. Idiots.”

Pilar sighed.

“You weren’t allowed to cook because Ariadne needed you by her side,” she explained. “You were her maid of honor for a reason, Cookie. Our crew, our marriage, our family… where would we be without you? Would we even be us?”

Pilar offered Aoibheann another bite, and she didn’t take it. Pilar looked concerned. She hadn’t eaten nearly enough to be satisfied yet.

“What is it?” Pilar asked.

Aoibheann opened her mouth, thought hard, her eyes darting back and forth as though she was trying to make sense of something she couldn’t put words to.

“Aoibheann, are you… are you alright?” Pilar asked. “Should I get Sasha?”

Aoibheann shook her head vigorously. She had been lost in her depression for months, wondering if she was really better off waking up in the morning, but suddenly, the floodgates had come open, and she couldn’t wait one more second to let out what had been eating at her and destroying her soul ever since they’d lost the station.

Her voice was dry and raspy. She had not spoken more than two consecutive words in weeks, and her body vehemently protested the sudden change in this policy.

“Was it my fault?” She asked, thinking back to a conversation she'd had with their tormentor years ago. “Did I do this to us?”

****

“Excellent work today, everyone,” Cookie’s voice boomed through the kitchen. “The festivities went off without a hitch. This is an anniversary our captain won’t soon forget.”

“Thank you, Chef,” her crew echoed back.

“Dismissed,” she said to the assembled kitchen staff, and then quietly approached one of the greener pirates who’d recently started the galley rotation that was mandatory for the whole crew. “Libby, a word?”

Cookie ushered Libby into a small room at the back, which she used for prep when she was working on more intimate, personal projects. This was the room where she prepared birthday meals for Spacebreather, Ariadne, and Sasha. This was the table on which she’d painstakingly crafted Ariadne and Pilar’s wedding cake. The small walk-in freezer was the one where she’d had a brief, clumsy tryst with Blue on a rare visit to the station, after Cookie had enraged her by challenging her to a contest to see who could make a better mole negro oaxaqueño sauce, and then winning it.

Libby had been invited into the inner sanctum, and the look on Cookie’s face made it absolutely clear that it was not an honor.She was in deep trouble. Worse still, there was a salt shaker on the table in front of her.

“Do you think this is funny, lass?” Cookie asked. “Is this a fun game to you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chef,” Libby said, actually looking somewhat convincing.

“The cap of the salt shaker was unscrewed. One shake, and dinner would’ve been ruined.” Cookie said. “It was your responsibility to set the table in the captain’s quarters.”

Libby got immediately defensive. “Anybody could’ve done that,” she said, “I didn’t do it, it’s totally unfair that you--”

“Anybody could’ve,” Cookie said. “But I gave you a responsibility. You were responsible for the Captain’s table. You signed off on a table with an unscrewed salt shaker on it. That makes you responsible for the salt shaker, whether you placed it there or not.”

“How is that fair?” Libby replied indignantly.

“Lass, why do you think Ariadne requires all crew to complete a rotation in my kitchen before they’re cleared for field service?” Cookie asked.

“She needs someone to cook for her?” Libby asked derisively.

Cookie sneered. She did not care for Libby, and never had. The girl seemed to attract drama. How, she wondered, could someone with so few friends be so perpetually in the middle of a falling out with a group of them? “And why do you think my standards are so meticulous?” Cookie asked.

Libby declined to answer, because she knew her honest answer would get her in trouble, but her face betrayed what she wanted to say: “Because you’re a huge bitch?”

Cookie answered her own rhetorical questions. “The skills you need to be successful in here, will be invaluable to you out there. You didn’t go over your loadout with a fine-toothed comb. You didn’t take the responsibilities you were trusted with seriously. You allowed your crewmates to operate with faulty equipment, that, had I not intervened, would’ve caused the mission objective to fail.”

“To be clear,” Libby said, “the ‘mission’ was serving them dinner.”

“IN HERE IT’S DINNER,” Cookie bellowed, her eyes full of all the rage and fire that she kept tamped down in her heart every second of every day, and slammed her fists on the table, knocking down the salt shaker. The chrome lid clattered off, and salt spilled onto the teak countertop. Cookie wordlessly grabbed a pinch of it and tossed it over her left shoulder. “In here, you fail in your duties and it means dinner isn’t very good that night. Out there, you fail in your duties and your sisters in arms die. That’s why Ariadne makes you work with me before you’re allowed to work for her. You can’t be trusted to handle the stakes out there if your team, and your commanding officer, can’t even trust you to do your job correctly when the stakes are only whether tonight’s chicken will be a little dry. Is that crystal clear?”

Libby looked as though she was about to protest, or accuse Cookie of being melodramatic, but Cookie cut her off. “Think very carefully about what you say next,” she said, “and if you’re lost as to what answer I’m looking for...” She pointed at the band that she kept tied around her head, so that even if one of her brilliant red hairs slipped out of its tight bun, it would still not fall into her face. It was white, and said, in bold black text, “YES CHEF.”

Libby grumbled. “Yes, chef,” she said. “next time, I’ll check the table settings more carefully.”

“Glad to hear it,” Cookie said. “But I think it’s important that you know… I know you put the shaker on the table.”

“What?!” Libby snapped.

“If the Captain, or her first mate, were to be poisoned, I would need to be able to verify who’d done the deed.” Cookie said. “Every step of my meal preparation is accounted for. There is a record of every action taken in this kitchen, cupboard-to-table. If something goes wrong with a meal, within seconds I will be able to identify the point of failure and exactly who was responsible for preventing it. Of course, it helps to have a private video feed into the captain’s quarters.”

Cookie tossed her communications device onto the table, and hit play. It projected a small, but surprisingly clear, hologram of Libby setting the table, smirking as though struck with an idea, and unscrewing the cap of the salt shaker.

“You have… a security camera… in their quarters?!” Libby asked.

“I’m the only person in the system they trust with it,” Cookie said. “I trust them with my life, and they trust me with theirs. Now, I gave you a chance to confess to your little prank, and you decided to lie, to pass the buck onto someone else. I’m afraid I can’t let that slide. I’ll have to fail you for this rotation. Come back at the start of the next one and you can reapply.”

“What?!” Libby snapped again. “I’m two days away from finishing! I have to start my galley rotation over again just because you caught me playing a harmless prank on your little pervy peep-show?”

“Call it pervy if you like,” Cookie said dismissively. “The nature of my relationship with the captain and her first mate is enthusiastically sanctioned and is, frankly, none of your concern. The behavior you showed in here, would’ve only spoiled Captain Ariadne’s dinner. If you showed the same level of carelessness and irreverence out there, it might’ve gotten someone killed. ‘Harmless’ indeed. You’re not responsible enough for field work until you can prove you can handle kitchen duty.”

“This is bullshit,” Libby said, gathering up her things to storm out of the room. “Like it even matters whether that bitch’s little dinner is ruined.”

Cookie slammed her fists on the counter again.

“Captain Ariadne is the greatest woman who ever lived,” Cookie growled, “and if I hear you speak of her like that in my presence again, you’ll lose a hell of a lot more than your galley rotation.”

Libby moved to storm out, but Cookie rushed the door and held it shut.

“Now, you listen to me, you little twerp,” Cookie said, jabbing a finger into Libby’s chest, shaking with anger. “That woman pulled me out of the gutter-- pulled all of us out of the gutter. There is nothing more important than the work she does, and we are the beating heart that allows her to do it. So if you want to be a part of this crew, you’ll show her some goddamned respect and start taking your work fucking seriously.”

Libby looked furious.

“What do I want to hear?” Cookie asked pointedly.

Pilar was astonished. “You think… because you were hard on the Nameless in her galley rotation… that she went totally off the rails, tried to kill us, and drove us out of our home?”

“Yes, chef,” Libby grumbled after a beat, and Cookie allowed her to pass.

****

“She tried to say we were like a cult,” Cookie said weakly. “That we were just minions blindly following Ariadne’s orders. That we turned against anybody who didn’t fall in line.”

“Is any of that true?” Pilar asked rhetorically. “Does the crew actually act like that?”

Cookie let the tears come. “I do,” she said. “What if she… how do I know she isn’t holding my devotion, my zeal, against the entire crew?”

“You… blindly follow Ariadne’s orders?” Pilar asked, entirely rhetorically. “That’s a surprise, I thought you really believed in our mission.”

Cookie was taken aback. “I do!’

Pilar smiled. “There’s some of that fire,” she said. “I’ve missed it. Aoibheann… when is the last time Ariadne actually gave you an order?”

Cookie had to think about this, but came up short.

“Exactly,” Pilar said. “This is what’s been eating you, all this time?”

Aoibheann looked afraid to reply, so she just asked what she’d wanted to ask, ever since they were driven out of their home.

“Do you forgive me?” She asked. “Does she… does she forgive me?”

Pilar looked Aoibheann square in the eyes. “Cookie, you’ve never needed our forgiveness. An insane terrorist attacked our home. There’s nothing you could’ve done to prevent that.”

This was not what Aoibheann wanted to hear.

Pilar sighed. “Of course we forgive you, Aoibheann,” she said in a voice that sounded entirely earnest, but using words that betrayed how sarcastic she was being: “for not allowing someone who turned out to be a sexual predator and an actual serial killer tamper with our food and ruin our anniversary. We forgive you for being the most devoted friend we’ve ever had. Because someone else mistreated us, it must’ve been wrong that you treated us right. We will always forgive you for loving us, Aoibheann. You will never lose our forgiveness for that.”

Aoibheann was struck speechless again.

“Don’t go quiet on me,” Pilar said affectionately, “I just got you to talk again! I’ve missed your voice.”

“I appreciate your taking care of me,” Cookie admitted, “while I’ve been… not myself.”

Pilar gently put her hand on Aoibheann’s, and gave it a squeeze, and then told her the most reassuring truth she had.

“The Nameless is a user,” she said. “She wants a bunch of people who act like puppets and put her well-being first. Ariadne spends every second of every day encouraging her crew to think and act for themselves, and to put each other’s well-being above all else. That’s why she thinks Ariadne’s a tyrant. Not because you defended her honor after a sociopath tried to ruin her anniversary and then called her a bitch.”

Aoibheann felt as though she’d just received absolution for something that had been dragging her through the muck for months. How could she not believe Pilar, of all people? She began to cry openly.

“Hey, hey,” Pilar said, “it’s okay! I got you.”

“I’ve let the crew down,” she said, “had them eating this flavorless mush for however many months. I’ll be back at a stove first thing in the morning, don’t you worry--”

Pilar laughed. “Aoibheann… Cookie, I’m glad you’re back but… don’t push yourself too hard, okay? Let your apprentices handle it for a bit. Besides, you haven’t walked by yourself in a pretty long time. It’ll take a bit before you’re seaworthy again, let alone fit to run a kitchen.”

Aoibheann looked downcast. “Well, I’ve spent enough time sitting around like a lump being no good to anybody,” she said indignantly.

“You’re plenty good to us,” Pilar said flatly, “just by being here. We love you, Cookie. You don’t need to… justify your existence by being a devoted servant.”

Aoibheann was uncomfortable with this sentiment, and it showed on her face. This was, after all, how she showed her affection for Ariadne and Pilar. How could she show them her love and devotion without being able to cook for them?

“I don’t know how to…” Cookie began. “Please… Please, just… tell me what to do.”

Pilar sighed. She knew Cookie was far too devoted to her duties to go completely without orders. “She and I will be back in a few hours, for dinner. Let her hear your voice. Tell her you love her, and wish her luck on her procedure. If you have the strength, give her a hug. And, most importantly, just… please, be okay. Be kind to yourself and take all the time you need to get back on your feet. We’ve only got the one Cookie, so take care of her for us, okay?”

Cookie smiled, and squeezed Pilar’s hand back with what little strength she could muster.

Pilar picked up the now-empty tray that the MRE had been on. “Now that you’re back, do I have your permission to start up the kitchens? Let your apprentices do some real cooking?”

Cookie nodded her head.

“Then I guess this is truly an event worth of celebration: you’ve had your last Meal-Ready-To-Eat,” Pilar laughed. “I’ll see you tonight, Cookie. I want to put some meat back on your bones, so I’ll be cooking, and I expect you to be looking over my shoulder and barking orders at me the whole time.”

Cookie looked at her and smiled, and Pilar’s heart melted. It had been a long time since anyone had seen that.

****

Cookie’s apprentices stood in a straight line at the back of the Hotpot Spot, an abandoned restaurant that Sweettalk had identified as her childhood favorite. Cookie, wearing the chef’s coat she’d fled the station in, freshly laundered, and her trademark “YES CHEF” headband, limped into the restaurant, supported by a cane that Sweettalk had fished out of her childhood home, and said had belonged to her grandfather.

Cookie was still not back to full strength, but her apprentices could see the fire they’d come to fear and love had returned to her eyes.

“As you may have noticed,” Cookie announced, the natural loudness of her voice undiminished by her time indisposed, “I have been… unwell, of late. As such, I am unable to resume my duties at this time.”

Her staff turned to her chief apprentice, Yellow, for guidance. Yellow remained silent, so the rest of them did as well.

“It’s alright, kids,” she said, stamping the cane on the ground loudly. “You don’t have to pretend. I’m not my old self yet. It’s fine. I wouldn’t feel right resuming my post here anyhow. This isn’t my kitchen. I’ve called you all here because you are the apprentices most equipped to run a kitchen of your own.”

Yellow nodded in assent.

“As such, I have a new directive for each of you, until such time as we’ve retrieved my kitchen, and I’m back to my usual vim and vigor, each of you is to select one of the defunct restaurants in this town, take your pick of the remaining staff and any available volunteers, and you will run your kitchens to the standard I have taught you.”

Cookie sighed.

“I know what you all think,” she said. “I know what you’ve said to me, in the past. You think your best is only a pale imitation of my cooking. But I need you all to know that… isn’t true.”

“Chef?” Yellow asked.

“I was the fourth person on this crew, lass,” Cookie said. “The first person to join, after the founding members. At the beginning, we had one mission: Keep Sasha Fed. There is nothing I value more highly than that mission. I live for it, and if I’m blessed with the chance, I will happily die for it. We may have expanded the definition of ‘Sasha’ to include everyone we love, but this mission is and will always be my life’s labor. Food doesn’t just sustain us. It is love, in physical form. The Captain and the First Mate have been very gracious to me, in the time we’ve known each other, by allowing me to show them my love and devotion in the way I’m able to offer. Over the last nine months, they have shown me the devotion was not one-sided, and given me the love I was able to accept. So your mission is, as it always has been: get in the kitchen, and show your love to the crew. Fill their bowls with it, in the way only you can, with or without me. And when your cup is empty…”

Cookie choked up a bit, and did a halfway decent job masking it.

“...When your cup is empty, allow those who love you to fill it back up, until you’re ready to pour from it again.”

After a long, uncomfortable beat, her crew shouted back “Yes, Chef!”

“I have been derelict in my duties,” Cookie said. “I let you go this many months without loving one another properly, because you wouldn’t do it without me.”

“Chef, permission to speak freely?” One of her younger apprentices, a quiet young boy who specialized in pastries, piped up.

“Granted,” Cookie said.

“You never ordered us not to run the kitchens without you. In fact, before…” He paused carefully, then opted to leave it unsaid, “before, you always taught us how to take the lead for the rest of the crew, when you had to cook for the Captain’s table. We wouldn’t run the kitchens without your say-so because…”

“It’s okay, lad, no need to be scared of the likes of me,” she reassured him.

“We were ordered not to,” he told her. “The Captain was very clear: ‘There’s no crew without Cookie.’”

Cookie leaned on her cane and looked a bit sad.

“She couldn’t handle it, Chef,” Yellow explained. “Knowing somebody else was doing your work, while you were suffering the way you were.”

Now Cookie could feel her heart melt. “She said that, did she?”

The young baker boy winced. “She said that there’s nothing more important than the work you do, and that everything the crew does, is just so you can do it,” he said. “She said… well, she said she was derelict in her duty to you, and that she couldn’t replace you until she’d made it right. Until you’d forgiven her for letting you down.”

Cookie laughed. “We’ve known each other a long time, indeed,” she said. “The captain is a sentimental one, I’m afraid. She blames herself for all this. For my condition. Don’t tell her I said this, but she’s still more Catholic than she’d like to admit.”

Everyone’s eyes flared at this. Of course none of them would tell her she’d said that, as they all valued keeping their heads attached to their necks too much. Cookie was one of the only people in the system who could get away with saying something like that in front of Ariadne.

“She could never let me down if she tried,” Cookie said, “and even if she did, I will always forgive her. That you can repeat to her. Now, that’s enough prattling on from an old fool. You all have restaurants to open. To work!”

“Yes, Chef!” Her apprentices all shouted, and broke formation to claim their restaurants.

“And remember,” she shouted after them. “If you talk to the Captain, this was her idea!”

She had, in fact, passed her forgiveness along to Ariadne the previous day, before her surgery, and assured her that she didn’t need forgiveness, the same way Pilar had done to her. After her procedure, Ariadne wouldn’t remember Cookie giving her consent to reopen the kitchens, but she was delighted that when she came out of it, she seemingly remembered, on some level, that she had been absolved of all wrongdoing.

She was relieved when, during the fight Alicia staged with her, Ariadne had suggested they put her apprentices to work in the kitchens. Despite being set back several months, she was done punishing herself, and letting everyone else punish themselves with her. It was a do-over many were not fortunate enough to get, and after all she’d lost, Aoibheann was not one to turn her nose up at a second chance.

****

Months later, when all this was over and Sasha’s medicine and a lot of good eating had restored her muscles into mostly proper working order-- she still felt uneasy at times, and preferred to keep the cane on hand, just in case-- they were repatriated to their home, the Nameless had been defeated, and the station had erupted into a celebratory frenzy. Yellow and the kitchen staff had burned the candle at both ends to supply enough party snacks to keep anyone from drowning in all the wine. Two former crew members, Baltimore and Beam, had returned to the station to join in the celebrations. Sweettalk and Sasha had, believing themselves slick, pulled Ghostrunner and her new girlfriend Vigil back to their quarters. Alicia had brought Blue back to the station and, in the haze of wine, loudly announced her intention to start a relationship with her, before disappearing back to her own quarters. Cookie and Blue had, despite their past rivalry, a deep, abiding respect for one another, and Blue was one of the few people who was authorized to do as she pleased in the kitchen. Cookie knew firsthand that after Blue’s enthusiastic and athletic lovemaking, she would likely need something to eat, and a bit more wine, so she’d set a bottle of red and a bowl of fresh mozzarella in conspicuous locations in the hopes that she would find them. Cookie was, uncharacteristically, not in the kitchen that night.

If she had learned anything from the past year, it was that she had to sometimes set the weight of the world down, and allow the people she loved to take care of her as much as she took care of them. So, as had become tradition, once per month, she would retire to the Captain’s quarters instead of her own, and allow her friends to show them how much they loved her. Pilar spent the day marinating meats, just the way Cookie had taught her, and Ariadne had built a heating element into her personal dining table so that Pilar could cook them some of Cookie’s favorite foods.

They would then retire to the bedroom for a night of passion-- Ariadne always had some new device she’d built and wanted to show off. Being married to Spacebreather, she was in the unfortunate position of being a bit of a pillow princess, but not on pillow principle, and so never had anyone else to use it on, and Cookie was the only person other than Ariadne who Spacebreather was willing to touch. They would spend this time laughing, and experimenting, and making sure not an inch of her, or the captain, went unkissed, and then they would fall asleep in each other’s arms, all the while gossiping and reminiscing the way they had back on Mars.

Sometimes, on these nights, Cookie would think back to what Spacebreather said to her, during her episode, about how if she ever wanted something more between them, she could have it.

The thing was, she didn’t want something more. She treasured these nights they had together, but as far as she was concerned, nothing had changed about what they were to her. They were her best friends, and they were her calling in life. She would, to the best of her ability, serve their mission with almost religious zeal. Even unto her death, she would prioritize keeping her loved ones happy and healthy. She had already loved them, more, she believed, than she could ever love anyone else, even when they had started an exclusive relationship with one another, and she was just a heartbroken teenager pining after them both. How could she want something more, when she couldn’t even imagine something better than what she already had?

The first time the three of them had ever fallen into bed together, years after Ariadne and Pilar had made it clear they were soulmates, they had been a ball of teenage hormones, propelled by a raunchy party game that had gotten a bit out of hand. Aoibheann had awoken mortified and furious at herself for daring to succumb to her own desires like this. Her whole life, whenever she’d allowed herself to love something, it was taken away, and that only when she accepted that something was beyond her grasp, would she stand a chance of being lucky enough to attain it. She was sure that by admitting to her wants, and acting on them, she had ruined everything. Except, Ariadne and Pilar noticed her embarrassment and simply chose to behave as though nothing had changed. It had happened only occasionally in the past, and each time, Ariadne and Pilar would wait for Cookie to bring it up. Otherwise, it was completely unspoken.

The one crucial difference was, now, Aoibheann “Cookie” Gyeong, once the saddest girl on Mars, had finally accepted that it was okay to want, and to act on those wants, that this was not following the goblin lights to her death as her mother had. She, who loved her life so much that she shut down for the better part of a year when she feared it had changed irreparably, spent most of her time refusing to acknowledge what she loved about it. She did her job, showed her love, and asked for nothing in return except for the ability to keep doing it.

“You know,” Ariadne said, running her fingers through Aoibheann’s long, smooth, bright red hair, as a sleeping Pilar cradled them both in her arms, “we don’t do any of this for you. We do it because we like doing it. It’s fun for us.”

Cookie laughed. “Oh, I hadn’t noticed,” she quipped.

Ariadne smiled, and told her something she’d waited years to be sure Cookie would be ready to hear. “Thank you,” she said, “for being my friend. For loving me. For making what we do worth it.”

Aoibheann shot a smile right back. “I could say the same to you.”

#core story #lgbt

30 notes · View notes

abitohoney · 1 year

Text

Missed

AO3 Link

Rating: Explicit. MDNI. NSFW.

Tags: Sevika x Female Reader, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Dom/sub, Dom Sevika, sub Reader, Humor, Banter, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Lesbian Sex, Praise Kink, Teasing, Begging, Strap-Ons, Spanking, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot

Word Count: 10k

Summary: After a series of extended, overlapping assignments that kept you and Sevika separated for far longer than either of you could stand, you finally have a night together in your shared room.

AN: This has been posted on AO3 for quite some time. I'm just now getting around to posting it here. I'll try to bring in my other works as well. Maybe one every Wednesday to avoid bombarding y'all.

Even though this is based on the existing relationship in my story Submit, which you can read here, this can still be read as a stand alone oneshot.

Soft golden light spilled into the small bathroom from Sevika’s adjoined bedroom, the bedroom you’d been sharing with her for the past several months ever since she'd handed you a key and basically asked you to live with her. A gift, or request really, that you'd never expected from her, but more than happily accepted. Unfortunately the two of you had been apart for nearly two weeks straight now thanks to a series of extended, overlapping assignments from your mutual boss Silco. And after a particularly busy day, Silco having kept you trailing and tracking several of the chembarons, you decided it was high time for some relaxation. Said relaxation took the form of a nice, warm bath and a glass of whiskey.

Sighing as you stepped into the large tub, you took a sip of your drink before letting your head rest back against the folded towel you’d placed along the back edge. The water, already near the brim, sloshed over the edge and onto the floor, but you paid it no mind. You’d have it cleaned up before Sevika could return and scold you for once again ‘wasting water’. Arms lying along the sides of the tub and eyes closed, you smiled as your mind conjured the vision of her scowling down at you, a snide remark on her tongue and ready to fire.

“Can’t afford decent clothes, but you have no issue using all our clean, hot water?”

Shit, that drink must be strong. Somehow your mind even played back her gruff voice as if she was right there with you.

Blinking several times as you opened your eyes, you found Sevika towering over you, brows downturned, but an obvious smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. Unable to hide your own mirth, you grinned up at her.

“You’re back early,” you pointed out, your eyes trailing over her face, noting that she’d apparently just gotten back from a fight. Several obvious cuts and smudges of blood scattered along her right cheek and her upper lip, loose strands of dark hair sticking to her sweat slick skin. “Looks like you need this bath more than I do,” you teased, taking a dramatic sniff before adding, “Smells like it too. Did you bathe at all in the two weeks we've been apart?”

Ignoring your jab, she stepped over to your side, reaching down to snatch your drink from your hand. Sitting up, your eyes narrowed as you watched her down the remainder of the whiskey before putting the empty glass back into your still open hand.

“Sure. You can have all of my drink, since you asked so nicely,” you jeered. She allowed her smirk to fully bloom, clearly pleased with herself. “Seriously, get in here. Let me wash you,” you insisted, sitting up and setting your glass on the floor beside the tub.

Her gray eyes roamed from your face down to your bare chest, lingering on your breasts from where they sat just above the waterline, but only for a moment before she turned to leave the room without a word. Frowning in disappointment, your gaze followed her large form as she walked through the doorway and momentarily blocked what little light filtered in.

“Seriously? You’re going to pass up my offer?” you scoffed. Your eyes rolled dramatically when she provided no response. “At least bring me a refill for my drink!” you called out, voice raised, but you knew damn well she wouldn’t bother. Settling back into your earlier reclined position, you closed your eyes again, trying to relax, which was proving difficult given how disappointed you were that she refused to join you. You'd missed her so much over the past several days it was maddening. Hadn't she missed you too?

“Scoot.”

Startled this time by her sudden reappearance, you lurched into an upright position, sending more water spilling over the tub edge.

“Fuck Sevika! How can someone of your massive size be so damn quiet?” Your scowl quickly faded when you turned to find Sevika at your side, entirely nude. Drinking in the sight before you, a sly little smile pulled at your mouth as your eyes roamed up over her toned abs, supple breasts, smug mouth and finally her expectant gaze and single raised brow. “What’s that look for?” you asked.

“Not gonna say it?” she replied.

“Not gonna say what?” You truly had no idea what she was getting at.

“You always have something to say when I take my clothes off.”

Releasing a very unladylike snort, you smiled up at her teasingly. “Are you fishing for compliments? And here I thought you didn’t like me commenting on your attractive appearance.”

“I’m not fishing for anything.” Her lips tightened, a scowl quick to appear along with her indignation.

Oh she was not happy with that, and as much as you wanted to toy with her some more, you preferred to get her in the bath with you sooner than later. “Get that perfect body of yours in this tub, you grump.”

Okay, maybe you could poke the bear just a little.

Despite the little insult you threw in at the end, it seemed to satisfy her enough, as she moved closer, metal fingers tapping at the back of your shoulder, a silent indication for you to move forward and make room for her.

“Sit in front of me,” you urged, spreading your legs for her to sit between.

It was Sevika’s turn to release a short snort of amusement. “Not enough room, Princess. Now move.”

“Plenty of room. Just so I can wash your backside, then we can swap.”

Either you were very convincing, or she was truly exhausted, as she released a deep sigh, but finally relented. She stepped in and lowered herself between your legs, her body displacing more water and sending it spilling over the edge.

“You’re cleaning that up,” she grumbled, pulling her knees up so she could move forward and give you room to work.

“Of course, your highness,” you teased, scooting closer to her so you could wrap your arms around her waist beneath the water. With your chest pressed against her backside, you could feel her short chuckle reverberate through you, filling you with warmth and pulling your lips into an appreciative smile. Every little genuine laugh you could get from her left you feeling a little high, and they had become easier and easier to obtain over the past few months you’d been living with her. It was just one of the many signs that she was becoming more comfortable with you. Resting your cheek against the back of her shoulder blade, you buried your nose in the ends of her messy hair, inhaling deeply, her scent overtaking your senses. Blood, sweat, grime, cigars and simply her . So perfect. So wonderful.

“How is it, even when you’re covered in blood, sweat and dirt, you can still smell so good?” you whispered. Her organic hand slipped into the water, gliding down along your leg soothingly as she simply hummed in response. The two of you sat like that for a moment in silence, your fingertips tracing along the muscles of her abs beneath the water, breathing in her scent and reveling in her closeness, while her hand slowly smoothed up and down your leg.

After placing a series of chaste kisses along her shoulder blade, you released her from your embrace, scooting further back in the tub and reaching up to gently remove the elastic band from her messy hair. Even caked with sweat and dirt, her silky hair cascaded softly forward and you wished you could see her face with it framed by it.

“Hand me the washcloth and soap, please.”

To your pleasant surprise, not only did she oblige, she lathered up the washcloth before handing it to you. She leaned forward, arms resting on her bent knees from where they poked out from the water.

“Does the other guy look worse than you?” you asked as you began washing along her shoulder blades and the back of her neck, resting your other hand on her hip. Admiring how her shoulders shook as she chuckled, you smiled knowing you’d set her up for some snarky quip.

“The other guys are face down in their own blood and missing several teeth,” she sneered.

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” you replied with a smile, “but you really should learn to block better. You know I’m only with you for that pretty face of yours, well and I suppose for the entertainment too. I do rather enjoy annoying you.”

“I could say the same to you.”

“That you’re only with me for my pretty face or that you enjoy annoying me?” you asked, rinsing the washcloth after her backside was well cleaned.

“Both.”

Smiling, you placed your hands on her shoulders, tugging gently. “Lay back for me so I can get your hair wet."

With her hands gripping the edges of the tub for stability, she slowly laid back until the top of her head rested on your chest. Her gray eyes, sparkling in the yellow glow of the light filtering in through the doorway, caught yours and her thick lips pulled up into a smirk.

“For the sex too, right?” you asked, your own lips curling in amusement. “I mean I’m definitely in this for the sex too.”

She raised a single brow, clearly questioning why you even bothered to ask.

“I just want to hear you say it,” you admitted, fingers gently combing her hair back away from her face.

“You know damn well how much I enjoy fucking you.” What started as a confident, smug statement, quickly melted into a barely audible whisper, her eyes closing instinctively when you dragged your nails along her scalp, an act you’d learned over the past few months could calm her almost instantly. “That feels good, baby,” she hummed and you watched as every inch of her body relaxed, her hands nearly slipping off the edge of the tub. Not wanting to interrupt her blissful state quite yet, you opted to leave wetting her hair for later, instead grabbing the washcloth with your free hand. Without ceasing your ministrations to her scalp, you began gently cleaning her face, taking your time and ensuring you were extra careful around each cut and blooming bruise.

“I’m going to get the rest of your hair wet,” you warned her once her face was thoroughly cleansed. She didn’t reply, just lay there quietly with her eyes closed. You reached over the side of the tub to grab your empty glass, using it to scoop and pour water over her hair. Once it was fully saturated, you took a moment to just appreciate her face. Your fingers traced along the sharp cut of her jaw, her cheekbones, and when her eyes opened to peer up at you, you thought she would reprimand you, or at least tease you, for getting distracted. Instead, you watched the corner of her mouth pull upward just enough to create that cute little crease along her cheek. Running a finger along that curve, you made no effort to hide your own adoring smile. She really was lovely in those rare moments of relaxation and contentment. You could feel her eyes on yours as you turned your attention to her dark brows, tracing each one before running down the bridge of her nose until you reached the soft tip. Lifting your finger the slightest amount, you pressed back down with just the pad of your finger.

“Boop.” Your smile spread into a shit-eating, playful grin as you watched Sevika flinch before her brows downturned.

“You’re annoying,” she grumbled, but you caught the smile on her face before she could sit up and hide it.

Chuckling, you reached over the side of the tub again to set the glass down in exchange for a small bottle of shampoo. “I know you love it,” you teased, squeezing a small amount of soap into the palm of your hand before dropping the bottle back to the floor. “Besides, I think you’ll forget all about it in just a second.” Adjusting your position such that you sat with your legs bent, knees on either side of her hips, which was quite the feat considering the limited space you had with her massive body taking up most of the tub, you began lathering her hair.

“I do not lo-” she started, but whatever snarky remark she had at the ready washed away along with the dirt in her hair as you started running your nails along her scalp again. The deep rumble from her chest when she hummed in contentment had your chest swelling with pride, delighted by the knowledge that you could make her feel so good. Only you held the power to truly tame this beast.

When the water started to approach a near tepid temperature, you reluctantly removed your fingers from her hair, which by that point had lost most of the suds anyway. "The water is cooling off quickly. Let me get your front side before we freeze." Standing, you rested a hand on Sevika's shoulder for stability as she scooted back and you stepped in front of her. Before you could lower yourself back into the water you caught her gaze fixated on your body. Her eyes raked down your naked form, catching at the apex of your thighs, which just so happened to be mere inches from her face. Heat spilled from your cheeks, spreading clear down your body and settled right at the point of her thirsty gaze. It was a damn good thing you had a hand on her shoulder, because when those gray eyes flicked up to yours for just a moment, a wicked smile on those delicious lips, you lost all strength in your legs. She must have taken notice, as her hands came up to grasp your waist, helping guide you safely back down into the water. Legs bent again and straddling her thighs, you sat on her lap, both hands resting on her shoulders. That cocky smile of hers remained and it became all you could focus on, your tongue unknowingly darting out to wet your own lips. Even after all the months you'd spent with her, she still had the ability to turn you to putty with just a simple look, a smile.

Her augmented hand had slid up to the back of your neck, keeping the sensitive machinery out of the water, but as those cool fingers wrapped around, it became apparent that wasn't the only reason. Slowly, you slipped your arms around her neck as she guided your face towards hers, your eyes fluttering shut. The moment your lips pressed to the plush of hers you released a long, contented sigh, relaxing against her as her flesh hand moved from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer. Heated skin pressed to heated skin, bare breast to bare breast, the sensations pulled an appreciative moan from your throat. Taking the opportunity of your parted lips against hers, Sevika pushed her tongue inside your mouth, bringing with it the coppery taste of residual blood from the cut on her upper lip. The hand around your neck gently angled your head to the side, allowing her to deepen the kiss, her nose pressing softly into your cheek. You attempted to move your own tongue along hers, only to be overpowered, and fuck if you were about to complain, instead releasing another deep, muffled moan.

Without warning, Sevika's hand moved from your back to grasp a handful of an ass cheek beneath the water, using it to pull your bottom half closer and grind you along her firm abs. Breaking the kiss, you pulled away quickly, eyes wide as your startled gasp turned into a soft mewl, pleasure coursing through your body.

"Fuck," you breathed, completely flustered as you gaped at Sevika. Her heavy lidded eyes bore into your own, ravenous and impatient.

"That's exactly what I want to do to you," she sneered, voice thick and husky, "So finish this quickly."

Releasing your neck, she rested her arm along the edge of the tub again, her other hand grabbing the forgotten washcloth and holding it out for you to take. It took you a moment to recover from your aroused stupor. The sight of her expectant, arched brow finally brought you back to the present.

"Sorry," you murmured, averting your gaze until you felt the press of her warm, wet hand against your cheek. Meeting her gaze, you found her wearing a crooked, but soft, grin.

"Don't be," she replied quietly, running the pad of her thumb over your bottom lip, lingering for just a moment before moving to rest her arm along the side of the tub.

Trying to suppress the way your heart fluttered at her gentleness, you applied a fresh lather of soap to the cloth and began working on her neck. Despite the desire to take your time, the promise of what was to come after had you working quickly, at least until you reached her breasts. Attempting to peer up at her discreetly through your lashes, you were disappointed to discover her watching you closely. She knew exactly what you were thinking, and when she raised that damn brow again, you weren't sure if that was in expectation or to challenge you. Since discovering how sensitive her breasts were, she had been very particular about when you were allowed to touch, or more specifically, play with them. Biting your bottom lip to keep from smiling, you let your attention fall back to her chest, pretending to simply focus on the task.

When you heard her deep hum, you looked up to find her head resting along the back edge of the tub, her eyes shut and a pleased smile gracing her face. Watching her expression closely, you gave one breast an experimental squeeze. Her lips parted, allowing a quiet groan to slip past. You slowly moved the washcloth to the other breast, slipping just beneath it before gently massaging it as well, pulling another groan from her. Surprisingly, she didn't open her eyes or scold you. Feeling a bit braver, you abandoned the washcloth, moving your hand to place your thumb and index finger on either side of her hardening nipple before gently pressing and rolling it between the pads of your fingers. The sinfully deep groan that left her throat as she arched her back had you frozen. Her eyes finally shot open as she sat up, nearly knocking you backwards in the process.

"Open the drain," she growled, her eyes narrowing as she glared down at you threateningly.

Oops.

You knew you had pushed her boundaries too far, and that it went without her saying, you were going to be punished. Excitement at the idea of what that could entail, you quickly scooted back far enough to reach behind you and pull the plug, all the while smiling meekly up at your perturbed lover. She seemed mildly pleased with your obedience given how her scowl softened just the slightest bit, apparently unaware that you simply just wanted to get to whatever she had planned as soon as possible.

Handing her the handheld sprayer, you leaned back on your hands, eyes traveling up the length of her body as she stood to rinse. Your gaze followed the path of the remaining soap as it rinsed from her hair and cascaded down her cheeks, neck, swell of her breasts, curves of her waist and hips, thick thighs, and finally down the length of her toned calves.

Apparently not having noticed your ogling, she gave the sprayer back to you before grabbing the towel from the back edge of the tub. Having not used any soap on yourself, you were able to rinse quickly while she stepped out and dried off. You barely had the sprayer back on its hook before Sevika tossed the towel at you, and you nearly dropped the damn thing. It must have been intentional that she caught you off guard, if the cocky little grin on her face was any indication.

"Ass," you grumbled, wrapping the damp towel around your upper half, just under your arms. Too busy glaring at a rather smug Sevika, you stepped out too quickly, carelessly, landing on a large puddle of water. Slipping, your body lurched forward and you quickly lost your balance, landing face first into Sevika's bare chest, but not before she swiftly caught you beneath your flailing arms. As much as you would have liked to remain where you were, she immediately righted you, standing you back fully upright with nearly no effort.

"Maybe use less water next time?" She sneered, but she kept you held close to her body. You weren't sure what was more frustrating, her damn teasing or the fact that your stupid towel prevented you from feeling her skin against your own.

"Maybe I did that on purpose," you sassed back, craning your neck so you could give her a proper view of the snarky look on your face, to which she simply arched a brow. "Maybe I wanted to be in your arms," you clarified, losing most if not all your edge with that admission. She chuckled, a bit too enthusiastically in your opinion, but she left no time for you to respond.

"Could have just asked," she teased, and without warning she bent down and scooped you up into her arms bridal style.

"Hey!" The scowl you attempted to throw her way faded the moment you caught her lopsided grin, big enough to reveal that ridiculously adorable tooth gap you loved so much. Smiling, you wrapped your arm around her neck, using it for leverage as you brought your lips to her cheek, gently kissing one of her scars before whispering into her ear, "I can see your cute tooth gap." Pulling back, you expected to see her smug smile wiped clean and replaced with her signature scowl, but to your surprise she was still grinning.

Eyeing her suspiciously as she carried you into your shared bedroom, you realized a little too late why that smirk remained on her face. She tossed you onto the bed with enough height and force to send you bouncing clear off the mattress and cutting your startled yelp short before you finally landed safely on your back.

"For fucks sake, Sevika!" You hollered. "At least give me a warn…" your reprimand trailed off as Sevika crawled onto the bed, a devious smirk on her face as she quickly positioned herself over you, caging you between her arms and legs. You lay rooted to your spot, hands at your sides, heat spreading like wildfire down your body and concentrating between your thighs as she eyed you hungrily. Expecting a kiss when she lowered her head, your eyes fluttered shut, but instead you felt the soft press of her nose against your cheek. A new warmth took over your body, your chest, when she trailed up your jaw, stopping just as she reached your ear.

"I've missed you…" she whispered, making your heart swell at the sweet admission. Running her large, warm hand over the swell of your hip and up along your side, she continued her confession. "Your body…" Her hand stopped just over the side of your breast, her nose slipping into your hair before taking a long, deep breath. "Your scent," she exhaled.

Finally breaking yourself from your frozen state, you reached one hand up to slip it into her loose, damp hair. "I missed you too," you sighed. Moving her face over yours, she brushed her nose along yours until the tips just barely touched. Strands of her dark hair fell forward, framing her face and yours like a curtain. Stormy eyes bore down into yours and you weren't sure if you wanted to just hold her or beg her to take you. Smiling coyly, you asked, "What do I smell like?"

"Comfort. Home."

Fuck. That's so goddamn sweet.

Her eyes dropped to the big smile plastered to your face. "Missed your dopey smile the most," she teased and your grin only grew wider. Even though she hadn't picked the most complimentary adjective, you knew she was just being playful and she truly did enjoy your smile. It was apparent by how even at her grumpiest, worst days, she couldn't hide her own lopsided grin when she caught your genuine one.

Fingers tangled in her hair, you pulled her down until her lips met yours. Your other hand skimmed over her side and up to her back to bring her chest closer until you felt the pleasant press of her soft breasts against your own. What started as a tender kiss quickly became heated, your lips parting to allow a quiet moan to escape to which she immediately took the opportunity to slip her tongue inside.

Metal fingers fisted your hair, pulling your head to the side as Sevika broke the kiss in favor of moving those full, wet lips to your exposed neck. After leaving a trail of love bites from just below your ear down to the top of your collarbone, she reversed the path, running the tip of her tongue over each mark. You squirmed and keened beneath her, desire driven higher by every sensation she left in her wake.

"Missed the way you taste," she purred against your ear before taking the lobe between her teeth and clamping down just hard enough to make you release a startled squeal. Her resulting throaty chuckle shot a wave of pleasure clear to your core, a wanton moan slipping past your parted lips. "Missed the pretty sounds you make."

"Sevika," you whined, desperate for her to cease all the sweet teasing and just fucking… fuck you already.

"Hmm?" She hummed, her mouth trailing down your neck again, but this time moving right past your collarbone and onto your chest.

Your other hand moved to join the first, threading through her hair, while her hands slid down along the mattress as she moved lower and lower.

"Please," you begged, watching as her lips slowly kissed down your right breast. Her eyes met yours as her mouth hovered just above your hardened nipple, her tongue slipping out to trace agonizingly light around the perimeter.

"Please what?" She teased, waiting until your lips parted to speak before taking you into her mouth and sucking.

"Plea- Fuck," you keened, eyes closing and back arching, chest rising towards her deliciously warm, wet mouth. Just before her teeth grazed over the sensitive bud, you registered the curl of her lips against your breast. The fucking tease was clearly enjoying torturing you, but she left no room for protest. Lifting her head, your nipple still held between her teeth, she tugged just hard enough for you to feel the slightest tinge of pain before releasing it. The startled little cry that pulled from your throat was quickly replaced with a soft groan the moment her mouth returned, tongue soothingly circling the tender area.

"I- I need you," you whimpered, finally able to find words when her mouth left your breast in favor of your abdomen.

"You've got me," she replied between soft kisses and love bites, her descent increasing in speed as she passed your navel. If you hadn't been so fucking drunk on your own arousal, you would have reprimanded her for the obvious sadistic torture, but she made damn sure you wouldn't find the words. Placing one last kiss just over your mound, she paused, metal and flesh hands snaking halfway down your thighs before easing them apart. Even with your eyes still closed you knew her mouth hung just above where you needed her most, her deep breaths chilly against your wet cunt.

God she was so fucking close to where you needed her, and when you realized your fingers were still tangled in the hair at the top of her head, she must have detected your abrupt change in demeanor. Before you could force her face between your legs, her hands wrapped firmly around your wrists. Startled, you released a short yelp, eyes flying open to find her eyes narrowed threateningly and focused on yours.

"Hands to yourself," she growled, and as much as you wanted to protest, you knew she wouldn't have it. Relaxing the grasp you had on her hair, you allowed her to place your hands on the tops of your thighs, her own hands covering yours to both keep them in place and keep you from lifting your hips towards her face.

"Sevika, please," you begged, near tears with how much you desired her touch, her mouth. "I want you so bad."

Her eyes lowered to the space between your legs, where you could feel just how aroused you were, and you knew she could see it too. Locking eyes with you again, a sinful smile painted her face before she spoke.

"I know."

Without removing her gaze from yours, she finally lowered her head between your thighs. And fuck you could feel how they clenched in anticipation beneath where she kept your hands pressed over them. Though you could only see those stormy eyes of hers, you felt the exact moment the tip of her tongue pressed just below your entrance. She dragged a torturous slow line clear to the hood of your clit, and the breath you hadn’t even known you were holding slipped past your open mouth as you sighed. Wrapping her lips around your clit, she switched between sucking and licking the sensitive bundle, leaving you writhing beneath her. The palms of her hands pressed down on the backs of yours, forcing your lower half to remain still as she continued her pleasurable onslaught.

Considering how worked up she’d had you, and how long it had been since you’d had any release, you unsurprisingly already felt that familiar tight, burning sensation build fast. And the moment she lifted her head, leaving you so close yet not quite satisfied, it was equally unsurprising that you cried out in disappointment, eyes searching hers pleadingly as she crawled back up your body again. You were about to plead- no- beg for her to finish you when she brought her face over yours, and the wicked smile she wore knocked any and all cognitive thoughts clear out of your head. Focused entirely on her mouth, you watched as it crept closer to yours, finally closing your eyes when she was close enough to feel her breath fan across your cheek and her breasts press against yours. The contact you felt was not a kiss though. Instead, she teasingly traced the fine gap between your parted lips with her tongue, pulling back the moment your head lifted to chase for a kiss.

God damnit why did she insist on tormenting you in the most cruel yet undeniably arousing ways?

“How do you want me to fuck you?”

As if that question wasn't enough to send a wave of aching desire between your legs, her deep, husky voice, clearly laced with lust, had you gripping the sheets in an attempt to control the urge to just pull her body between your legs and start grinding against whatever the hell you come in contact with first.

"Princess-"

"I don't care, just fuck me already!" You nearly screamed, eyes flying open just in time to catch the series of expressions that flashed across Sevika's face. From amusement to surprise and back again. Your cheeks burned with how flustered you were and you knew she took notice.

Brow arched and smug grin back in place, she of course wasn't about to take mercy on you and skip the opportunity to further tease you.

"So needy."

"Strap! Fuck me with the strap!"

God, you couldn't even look at her now, turning your head to the side as if she wouldn't know how desperate you were if you didn't make eye contact. Her resulting silence, lack of action, though only lasting for a few seconds, left you anxious as all hell. Metal fingers wrapped under your chin, pressing firmly into your cheeks as she forced you to meet her gaze. The expectant look she wore pulled you out of your fitful state just long enough to realize what she was waiting for.

"Please," you added, voice meek and quiet, a complete contrast to your previous demands. Her pleased smile was indication that you'd assumed correctly, and thank the fucking gods she was finally moving off you to fetch the strap. Though the loss of her proximity was disappointing, it did give you the opportunity to somewhat clear your head of the incapacitative amount of lust you'd been battling since she threw you on the damn bed.

"I want to be on top, please," you requested, watching as Sevika paused with the harness half way up her thighs. With her back to you, she slowly turned her head to side eye you from over her shoulder. When she saw the earnest look you gave her, she returned to her task of securing the harness.

"Baby, you and I both know how that would go," she replied, tone dry, but you knew damn well she was hiding a smirk.

"Just let me try it. Please," you insisted, getting on your knees and moving to the edge of the bed to help tighten the straps on her harness.

With everything in place, her favorite thick, black dildo included, she turned to smile down at you.

"Fine. This should be- entertaining ," she sneered.

Choosing to ignore the obvious jab at your ability, you focused instead on the fact that she had agreed to your request. Excited to try something new, you quickly moved aside so she could get back onto the bed. The moment she situated herself with her back comfortably resting against the headboard you scrambled to straddle her hips and thighs.

Both of you simultaneously turned to the bottle of lube sitting on the bedside table before exchanging knowing glances. You sure as hell wouldn't need that, not with how wet and wanting you were.

Gaze dropping to Sevika's toned abs, you rested the palm of one hand there, the other reaching between your legs to grasp the base of the toy and align it with your entrance. Lowering yourself just enough for the tip to sneak in, you bit down on your bottom lip to restrain whatever sound of pleasure that was sure to follow. It proved pointless as you ever so slowly dropped lower, the thick silicone filling you perfectly and a shaky whimper making it past your defenses.

With half the length buried inside, you waited a moment to allow yourself time to adjust, lifting your half-lidded gaze to Sevika's face.

Oh fuck. She looked downright ravenous, stormy eyes hyper focused at the sight between your legs, and lips pulled into a greedy smile. A chill ran down your spine at the sight, your body visibly trembling.

"Fuck, baby," she said quietly with the release of a breath. "Missed the sight of you taking my strap." Wrapping her hands around your waist, she guided you down the rest of the way, watching with unadulterated desire as each and every inch disappeared between your folds.

Your hands flew up to her shoulders to brace yourself from falling forward as you bottomed out, the toy filing you completely. Her name fell past your lips with a whimper, finally drawing her attention up to your strained expression.

“Need some help?” she teased.

Shaking your head vehemently, you slowly began to rise on your knees again, legs straining and toes curling as heavenly sensations flooded your lower half. Though she granted you the control you wanted, her hands simply resting on your hips, you knew she was just smugly watching and waiting for you to fail. Unable to focus with her attention on your face, you averted your gaze to the scars decorating her cheek. Groaning as you gradually sank back down, you let your eyes follow the individual paths of lovely blue scars that traveled clear down to her left breast.

You were able to distract yourself long enough to set a steady, easy pace without completely falling apart. Each stroke of the toy against your walls pulled a soft moan from your open mouth, your breath quickly becoming ragged. However, the moment you started to pick up speed, the pleasure rippling from your core and down your legs left you faltering. Sevika, or course, picked up on your struggles immediately.

“Tired already?” Her taunt was a complete contradiction to how her thumbs ran soothing circles over the soft flesh above your hips. “You were doing so well.”

God. Fucking. Damnit.

“I’m- I’m fine,” you panted.

Spite being your only drive, you pushed yourself to keep going. Face contorting in a mixture of pleasure and strain from the amount of effort it took to move as pleasure continued to wrack your body, you screwed your eyes shut tight in an attempt to block out her distractions. Much to your chagrin, and inversely to Sevika’s delight, you only managed several more blissful motions before your legs gave out. Chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath, you reluctantly opened your eyes to meet hers. Those beautiful gray eyes sparkled with unbridled joy at the sight of you trying so hard only to fail, and if you weren’t so exhausted or aroused you would have had a few choice words for how fucking sadistic she was being tonight. Driving the nail into the coffin, she arched a single dark brow, waiting for you to admit defeat and beg for her to take over.

Releasing a shaky sigh, you relinquished control with a, “Please help.” Unable to face her in your admitted defeat, you tried to turn away to hide your pout, only to be thwarted when her human fingers caught you by the chin.

“Hey.” Her demanding tone caught you by surprise, but you allowed your eyes to meet hers. “I’ll make you forget all about it," she promised. You nodded in understanding and the look of disappointment on her face faded into a smug smile before she pulled your head to hers for a soft, lingering kiss.

Releasing your chin, her hands smoothed over your ass, fingers grasping at the soft flesh of each cheek. With your hands still braced on her shoulders, you straightened back up, groaning as she lifted you off the toy until just the tip remained inside.

She set a slow, steady pace, her hips lifting to meet the pull of your lower half as she sank the toy impossibly deep before grinding your clit along the top of the strap. Each stroke pulled a deep moan from your chest, and each rub against your clit left your legs trembling. Arching your back as much as you could without losing your grip on her shoulders, you let your head fall back, eyes closed and lips parted. True to her word, you quickly forgot about the humiliation of your inability to fuck yourself on her strap, the only thing on your mind becoming how fucking good you felt.

“Tell me how you feel,” she purred, bending her legs at the knees so she could gain more leverage, but the change in angle had the toy dragging along your front wall deliciously hard, thus hampering all cognitive abilities. All you could manage was a deep groan of whatever curse word sat closest in your subconscious. Apparently that was not satisfactory to her expectations.

“Answer me,” she growled, pairing the demand with a particularly hard thrust and nails digging into your unforgiving flesh.

Head snapping forward, you caught her heated gaze with half-hooded eyes. “I- I feel good,” you whimpered, face contorting with pleasure when she ground your clit against her strap. “You make me- feel so-” Slowly dragged up off the dildo, your words faltered. “... fuck - so fucking good.”

Another harsh buck of her hips and opposing tug of your body down to hers had your toes curling and a string of unintelligible curses slipping past your open mouth, muffling another one of her unnecessary, and clearly meant to torment, questions.

“What feels good?”

You heard the question, but it didn’t really register. When you supplied her with no response, you hadn’t even noticed she had lifted her human hand from your ass until it was too late. That hand came swinging back down with a resounding smack against your bottom, knocking a startled yelp from you.

“What. Feels. Good?” she repeated, stilling her motions.

Though the sting on your cheek was enough to pull you back into reality again, the sudden lack of stimulation left you desperate to tend to the throbbing between your legs. Nails biting into the skin of her shoulders, you rocked against her while biting out something you hoped would placate her.

"Your- your strap- inside me. Fucking- my cunt."

Dear god let that be what she needed to hear.

"Good girl," she praised, her hand rubbing over your sore cheek before grabbing a handful again and returning to the relentlessly slow fucking.

"Shit," Sevika grunted, "Retract those fucking nails."

Realizing your nails were sunk a little too deep into Sevika's shoulders, you relaxed your grip, letting the palms of your hands slide down to rest against her chest instead. Unknowingly, one of your hands slipped lower as she continued to fuck you, taking a breast in your hand to fondle and knead with the rhythm of her thrusts. She quickly began to lose that rhythm though, her own strained moans reaching your ears and drawing your attention to her face.

Oh shit.

Your hand froze, for just a moment, awestruck by the way she screwed her eyes shut and bared her teeth in an effort to fight the moans that seeped through despite it all.

Fuck she's so beautiful like that.

Much to your chagrin, that small pause in your ministrations left her just enough time to come to her senses.

"Stop distracting me," she growled through clenched teeth, her eyes flying open before narrowing threateningly at you. She didn't bother giving you a chance to move your hand, instead grabbing you by your waist and flipping you into your back, strap still buried deep inside you.

Both of your hands were immediately snatched up, pulled above your head and pinned beneath her human hand. Blinking up at her, still a bit startled by the abrupt position change, you watched her lips as they curled into a cocky smile.

"I'm done playing," she sneered, moving her metal hand down your chest to give one of your breasts a very hard squeeze. Chuckling at the little yelp you released, she dragged those sharp talons down your breast, narrowly missing the hardened peak. The trail she left clear down your stomach and abs teetered on that fine line between pain and pleasure, leaving your body squirming beneath hers.

"Sevika. Please," you pleaded as her nails traveled even lower, dangerously close to where you needed stimulation, just not that kind. Thankfully, her hand slipped off course and behind one of your knees, forcing you to bend your leg as she pushed it up and out of her way, spreading you wider. Sliding the toy out until just the tip remained, her grin widened enough to reveal a sliver of teeth.

"I want to hear you scream."

Oh fuck.

Eyes rolling back as you closed them, you braced yourself for whatever the hell she had planned.

Her thighs slammed against yours hard enough for your body to slip up across the sheets, the silicone toy plunging inside clear to the hilt. Your cry of pleasure was without a doubt loud enough to be considered a scream, but she clearly wasn't satisfied with just one, quickly pulling out before dealing another powerful thrust.

She was quick to set a brutal pace, the sounds of the headboard smacking against the wall and her wet skin slapping against your own were both completely drowned out by the strangled cries and moans she forced from your body.

"Se-vi-ka!" You cried between each mind-numbing drag against your walls. Your orgasm built up quickly and fuck you were close, but you needed more. You needed that external friction. Tears stung the corners of your eyes, your arms pulling helplessly under the iron grip of her human hand. You struggled to form words, to tell her what you needed. Prying your eyes open, you gazed up at Sevika pleadingly. Any hope of getting through to her was lost when you noticed the animalistic look on her face. Teeth bared in a snarl, her stormy gray eyes focused on where your bodies met. The sight of her lost in primal instinct was enough to push you even more dangerously close to the edge, fire pooling low in your abdomen.

The choked sob that left you finally caught her attention, her eyes flitting to your pained expression. Her face softened, only for a brief moment, as she realized what was happening. Without breaking the onslaught between your legs, she released your wrists, her hand slipping down to your neglected clit. Your free hands flew up to wrap around her back and pull her closer. Even with her arm sandwiched between your bodies, she never once lost her rhythm, her fingers making quick work of your swollen bundle of nerves.

Your orgasm hit hard, every muscle in your body tensing for several mind-numbing seconds before relaxing as you dissolved into pleasure. A deep, long guttural moan rose from your chest and rolled past your slack mouth, your nails raking down the length of Sevika's back and withdrawing a hiss of pain from her. She slowed considerably, allowing your orgasm to finish without the risk of overstimulation.

Body falling limp, you collapsed back against the mattress. Stilling her movements, Sevika placed both hands on either side of your head before resting on her forearms as the two of you attempted to catch your breath. You gazed up at her, eyes glazed over in post-orgasm bliss. She was just as much of a goddamn mess as you were. Her once clean hair was a haphazard mess, strands stuck to her face where a fine sheen of sweat glistened in the glow of the dim lighting.

"Missed- seeing you- fucked out- like this," she panted, a weak smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

You smiled just as weakly up at her. "You seem- pretty fucked- out too," you teased, struggling to speak just as much as she had.

"Just out of practice," she chuckled, dipping her head to leave a trail of sloppy kisses along your jaw. "I'll just have to fuck you more." Her raspy voice against your ear sent a chill down your spine and relit the fire between your boneless legs.

"Not tonight though," you replied, grinning as she lifted her head to arch a brow at you inquisitively. "I want to please you now," you added, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears and run your hands along her back. "Why don't you sit back and have a smoke while I take care of you."

“Can’t argue with that,” she replied before bringing her lips to yours, muffling your whine as she pulled the strap out in one swift motion. Feeling her lips pull into a smile against yours in amusement, you made no effort to mind where your nails dug into her back. She didn’t seem to notice though, sitting up with that damn smug ass smile on her face and moving to remove the harness.

“Ass,” you murmured, but you couldn’t hide your own smile. This had just been a part of your dynamic since the two of you became an item several months ago. She enjoyed toying with you, getting you riled up. And you enjoyed playing along with it, knowing she meant no harm, and seeing her smile like that, just for you, was more than worth it.

Harness discarded to the end of the bed, Sevika set herself up against the headboard. Sitting up yourself, you grabbed her wrist before she could pull one of her cigarillos from her pouch on the bedside table.

“Let me get you one of the good ones,” you insisted, releasing her hand and draping yourself over her lap as you hung over the edge of the bed to pull the humidor out from underneath. With your ass on full display just over her lap, you shouldn’t have been so surprised when her flesh hand collided with one cheek hard enough to have you nearly slip off her lap.

“Damnit Sevika!” Your reprimanding tone was lost on her as you felt her body shake beneath you with her deep chuckle. Not that she could see your eyes, but you rolled them anyway. After lifting open the lid and grabbing a single cigar, you shoved it between your teeth and took out the cutter before pushing the humidor back under the bed. “Help me back up,” you mumbled around the cigar, free hand reaching blindly up behind you. Rather than taking your hand, you felt her grasp your waist with both hands and pull you back up effortlessly.

Straddling her waist, you clipped the end of the cigar off in the ashtray you’d handmade for her. It still warmed your heart that she carried it with her everywhere she went.

Ignoring her pointed look when you took the lighter from her hand, you flicked it open and concentrated on watching the cigar turn a bright cherry red as you took several quick drags.

“Fuck!” you coughed, eyes and throat burning, “This is- a lot stronger than your usual shit.”

“You get used to it,” she replied and you removed the cigar to place it between her teeth. She took a long drag before bending her index finger in a come hither motion. Knowing what her intentions were, you leaned forward, resting your hands on her chest for stability. Cigar in her hand off to the side, she slipped her claws into the hair at the back of your head, angling it as she brought you closer until your parted lips barely grazed hers. Eyes locked on yours, she pushed the smoke into your mouth slowly, small tendrils escaping the gaps at the corners of your mouths. The various spices hit your tongue, a delightful blend similar to her cigarillos, only much stronger, but not just in flavor. You could already feel your body relaxing from the small amount as your eyes fluttered shut. Resting your forehead to hers, the two of you sat in silence for a moment before she removed her hand from your hair.

“I missed you so much,” you sighed, opening your eyes to catch hers still focused on you, but now looking exceptionally more glossy. She was relaxed and she was ready for you to pleasure her.

“Show me how much,” she purred.

Clear on exactly what she meant, and more than willing to oblige, you made your way down the bed. Cigar tucked back between her lips, she bent her knees, lifting and spreading her thighs to make room for you. Settling between them on your forearms, you made no effort to hide the groan that escaped your throat at the sight of how wet and wanting she was for you. Intentionally catching her gaze, you slowly licked your lips. Her own lips curled into a smirk, smoke seeping through her exposed teeth, an image you kept in your head as you closed your eyes and that distance. Dragging your tongue through her slit, you released another groan as the taste of her arousal invaded your mouth.

“Good girl,” she murmured, her metal fingernails dragging along your scalp.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, her scent, combined with her flavor, praise and dangerously sharp claws scraping along your scalp, left your head spinning and legs aching in ecstasy. With another pass of your tongue you delved deeper between her folds before wrapping your lips around her clit. The curse she murmured around her cigar followed the instinctive thrust of her hips towards your face. Metal nails dug further into your scalp as your tongue worked a teasing circle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Bringing one of your hands between her legs, you eased your middle finger inside her, reveling in the soft, warm, slick feeling that surrounded it, and her subsequent deep groan. With your finger buried knuckle deep you applied a gentle downward pressure as you pulled it back out, bringing with it another curse from her lips and another upward thrust of her hips. Adding a second finger, you began working your mouth in tandem with each rhythmic pump of your digits.

It didn’t take long for Sevika to disregard any bit of restraint she may have been using as her metal fingers firmly grasped your hair, forcing your face against her while she rocked her hips. You let her control where your mouth went, focusing instead on matching her pace with your fingers. It also didn’t take long for you to realize you weren’t going to be able to keep this up, your neck and jaw quickly becoming sore from the difficult angle. Desperate not to disappoint her, you ran your other hand up her abs, watching as the muscles flexed sporadically each time she got your tongue in just the right spot with just the right amount of pressure. The moment your hand reached her breast, you removed your mouth from her clit, quickly replacing it with your thumb. Her hand in your hair started to push you back down but faltered the moment you began massaging her breast.

Not only did your smooth swap allow you to give your sore muscles a break, you were also gifted with the ability to observe all of Sevika’s obvious signs of pleasure. Each stroke or scissor of your fingers, in sync with the press or squeeze of your other hand on her breast, had her brows pinching together, nose scrunching and teeth clenching around her cigar as she fought back any sounds that threatened to slip out. Her metal hand slipped off your head, collapsing onto the bed beside her, both hands gripping the sheets as she put more effort into grinding against your thumb as it rubbed along her clit.

“Fuck,” she groaned, “Right there, baby.” Her mouth started to go slack as she tilted her head back, cigar hanging precariously at the edge of her mouth. Sitting up on your knees, you temporarily neglected her breast to swiftly swipe the cigar from her mouth before it could fall and potentially burn her. Tossing it into the ashtray, your hand moved to her other breast, rolling the hardening nipple between your thumb and index finger. She sucked in a deep breath through her parted lips, hips momentarily losing their rhythm.

Since discovering how sensitive her breasts were, that knowledge had become your not-so-secret weapon. If you ever had any issue with getting her off, it took very little stimulation to her breasts to send her over the edge, and this night was no different.

All it took was for you to lean over her and flick the tip of your tongue across the hardened peak of one breast to bring her to her peak. Sitting back on your knees, you watched in awe as each muscle on that glorious body of hers tensed. The soft, wet walls around your fingers clenched just as deliciously tight. Flesh and metal fingers grasped at the sheets as she held her breath briefly before all the air left her chest in a rush, the muscles across her abs quaking in time with the walls of her cunt.

Removing your hand from her breast and slowing the strokes of your fingers and thumb, you waited for her to ride out her orgasm before completely stilling your fingers. Chest heaving as she slumped against the headboard, her eyes opened just enough to catch a glimpse of your wide, pleased grin.

“Proud of yourself?” she huffed with a weak attempt at a snarky smile.

You were. You always were after managing to get her off. Seeing her wrecked like that, struggling to catch her breath, covered in sweat, hair a mess and eyes half lidded, all at your doing, was a huge stroke to the ego. Rather than answering her question, you pulled out your fingers from between her legs, purposefully curling the tips to provide her with a little well deserved torment for all the times she’d done the same to you. The grimace that drew across her lovely face quickly faded when her gaze dropped to your wet fingers as you sucked each one clean and made a humming sound of satisfaction. Still on your knees between her spread thighs, you crawled over them to straddle her lap as she straightened her legs out. Her hands found their way to rest limply over your hips as you sat down and wrapped your arms around her neck to pull her in for a kiss. Taking advantage of her still slack mouth, you swiped your tongue over hers, giving her yet another, more literal, taste of her own medicine.

Pulling back to allow her to finish recovering, you rested your forehead against hers, smiling in adoration and running your nose along hers.

“I think this goes without saying, but I missed all the same things about you,” you said softly, a coy smile on your face. “Your body, scent, smile, taste, the sounds you make, the way you take my fingers, and your fucked out face.”

Sevika smiled, something akin to her signature one-sided smirk, but much more genuine, soft even. Her hands slid up your back, the prosthetic stopping midway while her human fingers threaded into your hair and she pulled your body and lips against hers.

"You know," you started after breaking the kiss, "teasing aside, I really did miss you. We were apart for entirely too long."

"I had a word with Silco," Sevika replied, pausing to watch with unabashed mirth as your face contorted in confusion. "Told him I need a specific type of down time."

What the actual fuck?

Keeping your thoughts to yourself as she continued, you simply watched, completely awestruck, as she just smirked at you knowingly.

"He understands your value goes beyond just your ability to handle pointy objects." You're not so caught off guard to catch the way her mouth twitches at the corner at her little quip. Though you're quick to narrow your eyes at her in disapproval, you allow her to finish.

"He knows you're the only thing keeping me sane when I have to deal with all his bullshit, Jinx in particular. Gave me his word he'd take that into consideration when strategizing future missions for you and I."

"He what?!" You asked incredulously. "You have got to be bullshitting me! First, there's no way you approached him about that. Second, there's no fucking way he agreed to do anything about it. You're fucking with me!"

"Why would I bother making up something like that?" She asked, brow raising in challenge.

"I don't know. To woo me," you replied, honestly not sure why she'd make that up, but still astonished all the same.

"To what?"

"Nevermind." You shook your head. "That's fucking great though!" Absolutely beaming at the idea that Sevika had gone to your boss to demand such a- domestic and sweet thing as more time with you, you sensed an incoming snide remark about your cheesy smile, so you quickly redirected the conversation.

"So speaking of my ability to handle pointy objects, you know that includes more than just my daggers," you said with a playful smile. Sevika's brow raised again, clearly not catching on to your joke. Sliding your hands down her chest, you gave each of her nipples a quick pinch, earning yourself a gasp from Sevika and sharp nails digging into your sides. That initial startled response quickly gave way to a much more intentional grip on your waist, her eyes narrowing threateningly.

"Get my strap. Let's see how many times you can handle that pointy object." She snarled, lips curling sinisterly when your eyes widened in a combination of trepidation and excitement.

Turned out that number was three, but you made a promise to Sevika and yourself that you could do better with more practice.

#arcane #sevika #arcane sevika #sevika x reader #arcane sevika x reader #honey writes

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kazoosandfannypacks · 1 year

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"Road Less Traveled" by kazoosandfannypacks

Chapter 12/12: Perfect Pairing: Beauty and the Puppet (Belle/August) [with hints of CaptainSwan] Rating: General Word Count: (343/8K) Summary: [Mid Season 4 Canon Divergence.] After becoming a man again to help the heroes track down the author, August stops by the library- only to realize he now has a crush on the librarian, who's working through some complicated feelings of her own. Chapter Summary: A short epilogue about Belle and August going out together. Tags: season 4, canon divergent, fluff, beauty and the puppet, captain swan, anti-rumbelle, Author's notes: Just a short little chapter to finish the fic here! I hope you guys have enjoyed this one as much as I have! Taglist: @zahara @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @booksteaandtoomuchtv @jrob64 @tiganasummertree @anmylica @teamhook @undercaffinatednightmare @gingerchangeling @lonelyspectator @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @cs-rylie @silver-the-phoenix @kanerallels @accidental-spice @poptart-cat-78 @kingofbr00klyn [if you’d like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!] Also on AO3!

Belle almost didn't know why she'd settled on trusting him, even a month later as she rode across Storybrooke on the back of his motorcycle, but she sure was glad she did.

She wrapped her arms around him tighter than they already were- not because she was scared, but because she wasn't scared, least of all of him, not anymore. He'd proven himself over the last few weeks, proven he'd never hurt her.

It wasn't long before they arrived at their destination- which was apparently in the middle of the woods.

"Well, here we are." August said, quickly jumping off the motorcycle so he could help her off.

"Where are we?" Belle asked.

"Road less traveled." He set his helmet down on the back of his bike and grabbed a picnic basket off the back of it.

"A picnic lunch in the middle of nowhere?"

"It's only nowhere if we let it be." He held his arm out to her, and she wrapped hers around it as she laughed at his poetic turn of phrase. "I figured we could have a picnic lunch out by that creek over there, then maybe some light reading."

"Reading?" Belle asked

"I brought Tolkien's Book of Lost Tales with me." August said.

A normal person would've found that information boring, but Belle was not a normal person. No, what she was was a reader, and as a reader, she thought that sitting in the woods reading with her boyfriend was the most romantic way she could ever spend her day.

"Sounds perfect." Belle said.

"That's just a given though." August said.

"What?"

"Well, it's a given that it'll be a perfect day."

"And why's that?"

"Because I'm spending it with you." He kissed the top of her head.

And as Belle thought about the fond memories they'd shared, and the memories they still had yet to share together, she realized that she felt the same way about him- that no matter what path she took today, it would be perfect, because he was with her on it.

#once upon a time #once upon a time fanfic #beauty and the puppet #august booth #belle french #ouat #belle x august #beautiful liar #once upon a time season 4 #kazzy writes #anti rumbelle #captain swan #salt and light #road less traveled #otp: road less traveled

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fizzyxcustard · 2 years

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Dum Spiro Spero. (Armitage Summer Splash. Day 19.)

As part of @lathalea and I’s Armitage Summer Splash, I present to you, day 19.

Masterlist of fics for Summer Splash

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Prompts: “I can't do this." / Matching tattoos trope.

Fandom: Spooks

Pairings: Lucas North/John Bateman x OC (Amy Holland)

Warnings: Mentions of kidnap, double identities, language.

Summary: Amy has found out that Lucas has been living a lie for quite some time and is not really Lucas North. After she was kidnapped earlier in the series, she is now living with him in America, under a new identity.

Comments/Notes: If anyone would like to be added to or removed from my tag list, please say. If you haven’t seen season 9 of Spooks, then I suggest you don’t read this.

Amy lay awake early that morning, looking at her outstretched arm on the pillow. Along the inside of the top of her left arm, from shoulder to elbow, now read the words, in permanent ink, Dum Spiro Spero. While I live, I hope. It mirrored the tattoo that Lucas had across the base of his neck, and now acted as a reminder that despite being on the run and living under a new identity, she still had hope. While she was breathing there was always hope to be felt.

Lucas had disappeared into the early morning gloom while Amy was still asleep, hoping to meet with a contact and pick up their new American driving licences, and get details on the safe houses that littered the States where he and Amy could go in case the shit hit the fan. Lucas had always made sure he had foreign contacts while he was working with MI-5, just in case the worse had happened, which it did.

The sun was rising as Amy stood in front of the living room windows, which spanned the length of the room. It gave an impressive view of the New York skyline. She had never asked the exact methods that Lucas had used to obtain their wealth, and had learned to try and not think about it.

Amy held a mug of freshly made coffee in her hands and thought on her family. None of them would ever know what happened to her. Maybe one day she could send a letter, and just tell them that she was at least alive.

I can't do this. Those had been the words that Amy told Lucas daily once they had fled from the UK. Her whole body was racked with fear; and for two weeks, she had lived on an hour per night of sleep. But eventually that fear had dissolved away into a sense of contentment that she had never quite felt before.

She remembered the day when everything went to shit. When she found out that his real name was John Bateman. When Ruth had uncovered the truth. She remembered kissing Lucas as the police stormed the building he had taken her to, and then on spur of the moment, she told him to run and that she would find him later.

For the first time in her life, Amy lied to authorities. She told them that she had no idea where Lucas was. Then she fell off the grid. She'd returned home to her flat, only to find a passport on her pillow. Her photo was inside, but had the name Rebecca Wilkinson. A burner phone was on Lucas' pillow, with one unread message.

I'm coming for you. 6 o' clock.

Lucas had been prepared for the eventuality for some time. And as Amy sipped her coffee, she began to wonder just how long he had had that passport ready for her. Had it always been in his possession from early on in their relationship? Or had he obtained it once he got wind that Ruth was investigating him?

Had all of this been worth it? Following a man who had lied about his identity and betrayed his country?

Amy knew in her heart that most people would follow their rational thinking, their moral judgement, and would have thrown Lucas to the dogs. But her heart was too strong in this, her hope for a future with Lucas trumped it all.

"Dum Spiro Spero," she whispered, with a smile.

***

Follow Forever tag list: @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @middleearthpixie @linasofia @xxbyimm @guardianofrivendell @knitastically @meganlpie @sketch-and-write-lover @msjava1972 @lilacpulse @asgardianhobbit98 @spidergirla5 @rachel1959 @enchantzz @medusas-hairband @luna-xial

Richard Armitage tag list: @eunoiaastralwings @cryptichobbit

#Lucas North #Spooks #Lucas North x OC #Armitage Summer Splash #Richard Armitage

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royaltysuite · 1 year

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Her Downfall, His Redemption.... (An Empires x Reader Story) Chapter One - Prologue

Summary: When Y/n lost her home and her fiancee due to corruption, she thought it was only fair for her to die in the ruins of Rivendell. That is, until Aeor, the protector of Rivendell, gave her another chance, sealing her away in a crystal and through a portal to a new realm. Years after the corruption befell Rivendell, Y/n is found by a certain gnome and is brought back to their rising empire. However, things aren't going to stay peaceful as Y/n is soon released from her crystal and is thrusted into the lives of those she previously thought she'd lost.

Warning: Mentions of blood, death and attempted sewer****, HEAVY ANGST, read at your own discretion...

Word Count: 0.3k words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter One - Prologue

____ P.O.V.

I never would've thought my life would end this way. Smoke clouded the skies of my home as the buildings around me began to collapse. "Scott! Scott! Where are you?!" I yelled, struggling to breath while I moved from underneath the ruins of my house. No response was returned and panic began to rise.

As I began to rise from my spot, I took in my surroundings and my heart sunk to the bottom of my stomach. Countless bodies, women and children, laid lifeless. The sight of our soldiers, all bloodied and torn, brought tears to my eyes. My eyes darted to every single body that they landed on, which each sight increasing the bile in my stomach. Soon enough, my eyes landed in the center of the ruined village. Standing there was Scott and the love of my life, limp in his arms.

I stood there frozen as Scott turned his head to my position, a look of defeat spread across his face. 'I'm sorry' He mouthed to me before crumbling to the ground. It felt like hours before sound escaped my lungs in the form of a devastating cry. Screams poured out of my mouth, tears running down my face. My body finally moved and I ran to their limp bodies.

"No...no,no,NO! Wake up, please. Don't leave me. Please, Xornoth.....Don't leave me here all alone.....i need you." I cried, holding their bodies close to me, trying to wake them up. ".....please, wake up." Whimpers and sobs continued shaking my body as I caressed their faces.

Sitting there for what felt like a lifetime, I sat up and reached into my pouch. Pulling out a dagger, I stared down at the blade. My reflection looked like I was a walking corpse. I might as well have been seeing as there was nothing left for me to live for. Raising the blade high into the sky, I hesitated before lunging it into my chest.

Before the blade could make contact to my skin, a bright light flooded my eyes and a voice echoed around me. "This is not how you will end. In years time, you will rise again and fight to keep Rivendell alive once more." The voice bellowed deep, the light growing bigger and bigger then everything went black.

Thank you, Mighty Aeor...........

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note: Introducing the first chapter of the 'Her Downfall, His Redemption...' series. This is simply the prologue giving you the backstory of what happened before Y/n ended up in the crystal and into the Empires realm. It ended up being a pretty deep start to the series, but it is what it is. This chapter ended up being shorter than I wanted, but I hope you all enjoy it. If you would like to be added to the taglist for updates, leave a comment or send me a message. With that being said, Stay Classy~

Taglist: @julesx1

Series Masterlist

#empires smp #empires joel #empires scott #empires jimmy #empires shubble #empires katherine #empires lizzie #empires s1

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helloalycia · 3 years

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a bitch [two] // leigh shaw

summary: when you finally decide to confront leigh about the incident, things don't go to plan.

warning/s: cheating, arguing, confrontation

author's note: here’s part two! hope you like it :)

part one | masterlist | wattpad

I refused to paint Leigh in the worst light, even if I'd seen her that way. She ended up staying the night at mine to pass out without being around her sister with her hangover, and I tried not to mind. I was patient for the rest of the evening and the following morning, trying not to assume the worst. But it was hard to do that when she continued to act like nothing was out of the ordinary.

My paranoia get the better of me, as whenever she got a text or slipped out for a phone call, all I could see was her and Abby making out at the party. Why hadn't she told me what happened if it wasn't what it seemed? The only explanation could be that she didn't want me to know, which meant she was hiding it, which meant she was cheating on me. Just like Alex.

It was later that following day after the party when I was sat on the dining table doing some work on my laptop and she was sat on the couch. Her phone vibrated, followed by a tone, signalling she got a text, and I tried not to writhe with discomfort in my seat. She scoffed before tossing her phone to the other end of the couch.

"What is it?" I asked, trying not to seem too interested, even though my heart was bruising.

"Nothing," she mumbled, eyes fixated on the telly.

I gave her all of my attention now, curious. "Go on, what is it? It's clearly not nothing."

She tilted her head to look at me. Sighing, she said like it was no big deal, "Drew wants me to work on a piece, but with somebody else. And you know I'm not a fan of collaborative writing."

Forcing a smile, I hummed in acknowledgement. "Who is it? The person he wants you to work with?"

Looking back to the TV casually, she shrugged. "Abby."

Just the mere mention of that girl's name in Leigh's mouth left a bitter taste in mine. And the longer I watched Leigh staring at the TV without a care in the world, oblivious to the fact that my heart was breaking because of her, the more I wanted to burst. And I eventually did.

"I know you're cheating on me," I blurted, making her look to me with a baffled expression.

"What?"

Deciding to roll with it, I closed my laptop and met her confused stare. "Don't try to hide it, Leigh, I know. I saw you last night. At the party." She continued to play dumb, so I added with distaste, "You were kissing Abby."

Leigh opened her mouth, half-gasping and half entertained as if I was suggesting the most ridiculous thing. "You're kidding, right? That's– that's what you think of me?"

I stood up quickly, glaring at her through glassy eyes. "Don't act coy. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. I tried to wait for you to explain yourself just in case I misinterpreted, but you continued to hide it. No doubt hiding every other moment you spend with her, too, right?"

Leigh's confusion was quickly replaced with anger, as she stood up from her place on the couch and walked towards me, pointing a finger my way.

"How dare you jump to conclusions like that!"

"It's not jumping!" I shouted, unable to stop my emotions getting the better of me. "It's facts!" Smiling bitterly, I shook my head, vision blurry with unshed tears. "I always had my suspicions that she liked you, but I never thought it could be the other way, too..."

Leigh's glare was fiery. She clenched her fists by her side as she studied my expression, attempting to find an explanation for this accusation. And the fact that she was still playing dumb pissed me off.

"God, everybody told me that you could be like this," I muttered between gritted teeth. "You flip-flop between emotions. The constant mood swings, an explosion that everyone gets caught up in."

She crossed her arms, shrugging sarcastically. "Don't hold back or anything. Say what you really mean."

I clenched my jaw and stared at her, tears finally flowing. How could this be the same person I was in love with?

"I shouldn't have expected any different when it came to your partners," I finished with a hurt voice.

Her eyes narrowed as my words settled in. "Fuck you."

"Well, you won't be, will you? You're too busy fucking Abby!"

"You're not even giving me chance to explain!" she shouted with irritation.

"Explain what?! How you kept this from me? How you had all day to explain and you just didn't?" I scoffed, shaking my head. "You know, sometimes you can be such a..." I searched for the right word before my frustration landed on only one. "Such a bitch."

She pressed her trembling lips together as she glowered at me through teary eyes. It stung, knowing I was the reason she was upset. But she cheated on me. I had every right to be.

"Fuck off," she said harshly, before turning to grab her phone and jacket.

Slipping on her shoes, she stuck a middle finger in the air before leaving my house. I glared at the space where she was stood, heart pounding in my ears and chest tightening with discomfort. She deserved it. She did exactly what Alex did.

But this hurt so much more.

—

I woke up late the next morning since I didn't have work and I was too devastated to do anything but stay in bed. Last night was difficult, just like the night before, and when I finally found myself falling asleep, all I dreamt of was Leigh.

Even though I didn't want to, I felt a guilt thrumming in my chest when my words came back to mind. I shouldn't have reacted so badly... and I definitely shouldn't have called her a bitch. My anger just took over, pushing away my love for her, and attacked her without question. But God, it still hurt. Just thinking about her with someone else reminded me of Alex and the voice message and–

Staying in bed sounded like the best option. But of course, the world had other plans.

My phone dinged, signalling I had a text, and I reluctantly reached over to my bedside table to pull it off charge. Through sleep-filled eyes, I tried to make out the name on the screen.

Leigh ♥️

Suddenly awake, I swiped to open the message and felt my heart drop as I read it.

Leigh ♥️: Fuck you.

Attached was a video, and as much as I wanted to get pissed at her text, I was curious to know what she'd sent. Playing it, I soon realised it was CCTV footage from her workplace, outside the toilets. At first, I squeezed my phone, thinking she'd sent it to rub it in my face. But then as I continued to watch, I saw the moments I missed last night.

Leigh walked out the toilet and Abby pulled her to the side, attempting to talk to her about something. There was no sound to the clip, but it was clear that Leigh was trying to back away and go elsewhere. They talked, Leigh using that smile she used when she was trying to be polite, before Abby suddenly pushed herself on her, kissing her. I pulled a face at the sight, reliving it all over again, but then Leigh shoved her away with anger.

Again, there was no sound, but I recognised that familiar Leigh wrath she subjected people to when they pissed her off. Hands were waving around as she seemed to be shouting in Abby's face, her face set into a permanent scowl as she did. Then she turned and stormed away, and the video ended.

Lowering my phone, I stared at the ceiling with a lump in my throat. She hadn't cheated, I'd just walked in on the wrong moment. Every horrible thing I'd said to her... completely uncalled for. No wonder she was angry and upset when I'd accused her – she hadn't done anything wrong.

"Fuck!" I shouted to nothing, before throwing my phone to the end of the bed with annoyance.

How the hell was I to make this right?

—

I spent the remainder of the morning trying to think of what I could do. Leigh wouldn't want to speak to me, understandably, but I had to try. It would be a terrible apology, but I couldn't just leave it. I loved her and I could only hope she'd still love me, even after every nasty thing I spat her way.

Knowing she'd be at work, I gave her boss and best friend, Drew, a call. Hopefully she hadn't told him everything I'd done otherwise he was definitely going to ignore me.

After a few rings, he finally answered and I couldn't stop my fingers from drumming against my thigh nervously.

"Y/N, thank God you rang! I was just about to call you," he said before I could build up the courage to speak.

I furrowed my brows. "You were?"

"You should come pick up your girlfriend," he said, and I figured he didn't know. "I don't know what her problem is and, don't get me wrong, I love Leigh, but I can't condone violence at the workplace."

My eyes widened so much I was surprised they didn't fall out my head. "What?!"

With a mixture of amazement and disappointment, he answered, "She punched a colleague of hers, Abby, in the face. It was so out of the blue – a solid punch to the jaw. Broke her knuckles, I think."

Jaw dropping, I forgot how to speak.

"She's at the hospital," he continued. "Thankfully, Abby isn't pressing charges – no idea why not, not that I want Leigh to get arrested obviously – but damn, there's a lot of paperwork to do and–"

"Drew!" I cut him off, worrying myself with thoughts of Leigh at the hospital by herself. "Text me the address. I'm on my way."

The drive to the hospital was agonisingly long, but I reached it quite quickly. I did attempt to call Leigh, unable to stop myself from checking if she was okay, but she didn't answer. This did nothing to ease my concern.

After making my way through the hospital, I finally arrived at Leigh's room. I let myself in, seeing her sat on a hospital bed with an ice pack covering her hand, balanced on a table. At the sight of me, she rolled her eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she muttered lowly, refusing to meet my gaze.

I stepped inside hesitantly, my guilt returning as I remembered everything I accused her off. "Drew told me what happened."

She clenched her jaw. "Well, I'm not a baby. I'm fine on my own."

Ignoring her rightful annoyance, I sighed quietly. "Really, Leigh? You punched her?"

As if realising how silly it sounded when I said it aloud, she looked the other way and stayed quiet. Her jaw was still clenched as she contained her anger.

"What's the damage?" I asked, hoping my concern wouldn't piss her off. As always, I was wrong.

"None of your damn business," she snapped, still not looking my way.

I frowned, approaching her bedside, but she still refused to look my way. "Leigh, I want to apologise, I do, but I need to make sure you're okay first."

She rolled her eyes before finally looking to me and glaring powerfully. If I hadn't experienced being in a fight with Leigh before, I would have definitely tucked tail and ran. But I'd known her long enough to know that the mask of anger she wore right now was only a cover for the hurt she felt. The hurt I'd caused her.

"You don't need to do anything," she retorted, before nodding to the door. "You can go."

My heart pounded with guilt. "Leigh, please.”

"Sorry, I don't mean to be a bitch or anything," she cut me off bitterly, before looking away and frowning to herself.

The words I'd said to her in a moment of fury returned to mind and I'd never hated myself more than in that moment.

"You know, since Matt died, almost everyone I know called me a bitch," she revealed quietly, voice filled with pain rather than hostility. "Even my family. Especially my family. But you... you never called it me, Y/N. Not once. Not even when I deserved it."

The silence that followed her words was deafening. Why the hell did I have to call her that? Why?

Before I could even think of how to respond, the door to her room opened and in walked a doctor, holding what looked like print-outs of x-ray scans.

"Oh," he said with mild confusion as he spotted me by Leigh's bedside. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met. I'm Leigh's doctor. Doctor Syed. And you are?"

"Her girlfriend," I replied, just as she also replied, "My ex."

I gave her a stern look, accepting if she wanted to break up, but definitely not leaving her here alone.

"I'd like to stay if that's okay," I told Doctor Syed, sensing his confusion as he looked between Leigh and I, attempting to make out whatever was happening.

To my surprise, Leigh didn't argue, even when the doctor looked her way to see if she had a problem. She simply rolled her eyes, scoffed quietly, and said nothing.

Taking this as a response, Doctor Syed proceeded to explain about Leigh's injury, particularly the broken bones in her knuckle. Apparently she'd punched Abby with so much force that she'd literally broken the bone with a crack. The x-ray proved just that and gave the doctor a perfect sight of where he could fix it, thankfully, without surgery.

I waited with an unusually quiet Leigh as he put a splint and cast on her hand there and then. He then spoke about recovery times and how she was to look after herself. After writing up a prescription for pain meds and handing it to her, he quirked a brow questioningly.

"Is that all okay, Miss Shaw?" he asked.

Leigh was too busy brooding to listen, so I smiled at the doctor instead.

"I'll make sure she does that," I answered for her. "Thank you, doctor."

He nodded and returned the smile before wishing us luck and leaving. I looked to Leigh, who was quick to get up and grab her jacket, being careful with her hand. The two of us said nothing as we left the room and hospital, making our way out onto the street. Before I could ask how she was getting home, she began to walk away from me.

I groaned inwardly before following after her, stopping her from going any further. She glared across from me.

"What?" she said through gritted teeth.

"I can give you a ride home," I offered. "I parked down the street."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm fine walking."

I gave her a knowing look. "Leigh, you just broke your hand."

Realising my point, she sighed. "Fine. I'll call literally anyone but you for a ride."

Okay, I deserved that, but it still stung.

"Fine," I said, before waiting with her as she made the call.

She took a seat on the bench to the side of the road, waiting for a taxi, and I joined her, making her scoff.

"Just to make sure you get home safe," I said, when she gave me an incredulous look.

"Whatever," she mumbled, before watching the road for her taxi.

When it finally arrived, she didn't even spare me a glance before getting in and leaving. I sighed with regret, glad she was okay but realising I still hadn't had the chance to apologise to her. I was still yet to make this right.

—

It was the next day when I'd deemed it enough time to have given her space whilst also deciding I had to tell her how sorry I was before it was too late.

Building the courage to approach her front door was one thing, but knocking was another. I'm pretty sure I stared at the wood for ages before actually lifting my hand to knock. And even then, my heart was still pounding nervously in my chest.

After a moment, the door opened and revealed Leigh. But as soon as she recognised me, she made a move to close it.

"Leigh, please, wait–!" I tried, and put my foot in the doorway so she couldn't close it.

"I have nothing to say to you!" she exclaimed with irritation, glaring at me when she noticed my foot in the way. "Move it, Y/N."

"You don't have to say anything," I said with a frown and apologetic eyes. "Just hear me out. Please."

She pressed her lips together firmly, disguising her hurt with frustration. But when her eyes met mine, the pain was there and I felt guilty all over again, knowing I'd made her out to be the worst.

"I never should have said what I did," I started quickly, not wanting to lose my chance. "And I definitely shouldn't have called you a–" I winced, hating the word more than ever. "A bitch. I know you get angry when you're upset and that should've been my first indicator to knowing something wasn't right. I should've heard you out."

"But you didn't," she cut me off with a terrifyingly calm voice. "You jumped to conclusions instead. When I've never given you any reason to doubt me."

I licked my lips and looked down shamefully. She was right. "I know."

"Do you?" she asked rhetorically, a hint of resentment in her voice. "Because you jumped on me so fast that I didn't even see it coming."

Risking looking up, I saw the defensive stance she took, arms crossed judgementally and jaw tensed with annoyance.

"For the record," she added, expression softening a little, "I didn't tell you about the kiss because it meant nothing and I didn't want to upset you for no reason."

I swallowed the rising lump in my throat, the guilt thickening and squeezing the life out of me.

"I can't believe you'd think I would do something like that to you," she admitted with a heartbreaking voice, uncrossing her arms. "I love you, Y/N. I'd never hurt you like that. Never."

Squeezing my eyes shut, I pinched the bridge of my nose, memories of Alex flooding to the surface. "I know, Leigh, I know. I do."

She sighed before me. "Then why?"

Releasing my nose, I opened my eyes and was surprised at the blurriness, tears having formed. I was losing the woman I love because of my stupidity and I couldn't. I couldn't lose her. She deserved to know the truth, no matter how much it hurt.

"Do you remember my last girlfriend?" I asked reluctantly, before clearing my throat. "Alex?"

Her brows creased together with confusion. "Yes. What about her?"

Letting out an embarrassed sigh, I avoided Leigh's gaze. "We broke up because she cheated on me. With... with someone from work."

When Leigh didn't say anything, I looked up and saw her shocked expression.

"What?" she asked with disbelief. "You said it was a mutual breakup."

I pinched the skin inside my palm to feel something other than hurt and awkwardness. "I– it was easier to say that than admit the truth because the truth was– is embarrassing." Unable to hold her gaze for much longer, I focused on the door next to her. "You were going through a lot at the time, Leigh. The last thing you needed was to deal with my bullshit, too."

She frowned, trying to meet my eyes, but I was too ashamed to look her way. "You should've told me, Y/N."

I shook my head slowly. "I shouldn't have. Just like I shouldn't have assumed you'd be like her. I just– I got horribly insecure and I know that you're not her. You're nothing like her. And I shouldn't have treated you like the villain."

"No...," she began, still adjusting to my words. "No, that makes so much sense." Her good hand rested on my cheek as she forced me to look her way. "I'm so sorry that happened."

I pulled back, her hand dropping to her side, and wiped away a stray tear. I'd never meant to earn her pity – I'd done something wrong. This wasn't me earning sympathy, I just wanted her to know the truth.

"I don't want you to apologise," I told her. "I just want you to understand that I'm sorry. So sorry, Leigh. I hate that I– I ruined something good, something amazing. I never meant for this to happen," I motioned to her hand, "and I don't want you to think of me like– like– like this. Like–"

She moved forward and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling me close. "I don't. I really don't."

I closed my eyes and stuffed my head into her neck, holding her tightly. She stroked the back of my hair soothingly and pressed a kiss to the side of my head.

"I forgive you," she murmured, and just like that, relief spread through me. "I'm so sorry about what happened to you. I promise I'd never to that to you. Never in a million years."

I pulled apart, wiping my tears away sheepishly whilst nodding. "I know you wouldn't, Leigh. I'm sorry for even thinking that you would."

She cupped my cheek, using her thumb to swipe away a tear. Green eyes met mine, sparkling with unshed tears that made me feel guilty because I'd never wanted to make her cry.

"I know you are," she said gently, before offering me a small smile. "Come inside, yeah? You can make it up to me by watching movies with me."

I let out a small laugh and she smiled, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to my lips before holding out her hand. I rested mine in hers and let her lead me inside, hand tingling where her skin touched mine.

Leigh Shaw was anything but a bitch. She was the most caring, considerate person I'd ever met, and when she flashed me a reassuring smile as we headed to the couch, I knew one thing.

I was lucky to have her.

#leigh shaw #leigh shaw x you #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw imagine #sorry for your loss #sorry for your loss imagine #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen

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mellometal · 3 years

Text

ATTENTION: This is some recent information about the current events with Chris Chan that I've been able to find, plus additional information that I couldn't find anything on that is now public knowledge.

ALL videos about any updates will be linked so you can watch them for yourself, if you wish.

Again, OBLIGATORY trigger warning: This post will be going into very sensitive subject matter, including r@p3, s3xual assault, elder abuse, and inc3st. I will also be mentioning the site Kîwî F@rm$ and the person who runs it (Null). DON'T go onto Kîwî F@rm$. Just stay away from there. It's like 4chan (another site full of REALLY fucked up shit, depending on which forum you go to), but worse.

If anything I mentioned is triggering for you or makes you otherwise uncomfortable in any way, you don't have to read this post. It's not worth putting yourself in a bad state mentally. Take care of yourself, please. Consume media that sparks joy for you.

ALRIGHTY, LET'S GET TO IT. Because there's quite a lot of bullshit that happened since the first post I made about the current events. And some more information that will most likely be the nail in the coffin for Chris. I'm patiently waiting for more updates as they come and I'll share them here as soon as possible.

The person Chris was in a call with was revealed to be a troll under the name "Bella". The screenshots of messages and the audio from the call have all been confirmed to be real.

It's also been revealed that Chris confided in Null about her having a girlfriend, having s3x with her, all that. Here's a list of things to describe this "girlfriend" below, which I will compare to Barbara in bold:

This woman is "in her over fifties". (Barbara is eighty years old. Most people would assume that someone's in their late fifties when this terminology is used. Eighty is well over fifty.)

Her favorite person was the late Adam West in the 60s, as it was "for her son back then". (I don't know if Chris is referring to her half-brother Cole Smithey [he does movie reviews, and he's most famous for being one of the only people to give Toy Story 3 a negative review] here, or if she's referring to herself before she came out as trans. I'm adding this here anyway.)

Chris has known this woman "for a long time", offline and in-person. (OBVIOUSLY she's known Barbara her whole life, since she's, AGAIN, HER MOTHER! DUH.)

They've been having s3x "every three nights". (Like how Chris admitted to doing to her defenseless mother. PRETTY FUCKING FISHY, IF YOU ASK ME.)

They began having s3x on June 27th. (The same day that Chris admitted to doing to Barbara.)

This woman was an accountant when she was younger. (Barbara's job was EXACTLY this.)

Chris said she feels grateful to "enlighten" her girlfriend with s3x play that she (the woman) "missed from even her exes". (I didn't mention this in my initial post, but if you chose to watch the videos that were linked, Chris mentioned that Barbara's boyfriends and ex-husbands "have never been able to make her 0rg@$m" like Chris did. SHE EVEN MENTIONED HER LATE FATHER. THAT'S FUCKING DISGUSTING AND DISRESPECTFUL.)

Chris has been "keeping her girlfriend safe" too. (She had been "taking care of Barbara" since Bob, her late father, passed away. This right here is proof alone that she was talking about HER MOM!)

Her girlfriend "didn't want to do it at first", it was "very painful" for Chris's girlfriend in the beginning, and it took a few tries for them "to get going". This included Chris doing it FOR her because she thought her girlfriend would "feel better" due to her lack of mobility and lucidity. (Chris said all of this exact stuff TO "BELLA" during their call.)

Null initially thought that Chris was lying about sleeping with her mother to cover up the fact that she had a girlfriend and having s3x with her. Why? Because apparently people would believe Chris would have s3x with her mother than some other unknown woman. Chris told Null to keep her girlfriend's identity secret because she was afraid her girlfriend would get trolled and she'd end up losing her.

What Null realized was that what Chris told him completely matched the description of Barbara. Note that before he looked into this, he was unaware of the context Chris was giving him about her "girlfriend".

It's extremely possible now that Chris admitted to s3xually assaulting Barbara to Null and "Bella", but she wanted Null to keep it confidential. Chris wanted NULL to keep the fact that she admitted to committing a VERY serious crime A SECRET.

If Chris WAS actually lying, she'd use a lot more CWCisms (her own phrases) or say that she was "using her psychic powers" to have s3x with Barbara's fictional counterpart in another dimension. But no, Chris was VERY straightforward and talked about it casually like if you were to talk about the weather.

Chris, according to Null, slept in a parking lot in her car the other night. At least for a few hours, though I don't remember where the FUCK else she slept (maybe a hotel room eventually), considering she had -$200 in her bank account. I believe some people who are in contact with Chris sent her some money to get food too.

Null revealed that he set up a GoFundMe previously for Chris to attend a Brony convention, which was a test to see how Chris would be able to handle commissions. The GFM was successful, to say the least. Chris fulfilled commissions successfully, DESPITE NOT WORKING ON THE FUCKING COMIC. Y'KNOW, THE THING SHE'S PAID FOR ON PATREON TO DO!

Well, due to recent events, he has since taken down the GFM and is refunding all the money to all the donors. He was debating on sending Chris money (the GFM money, since Chris isn't able to go to the Brony convention), but he decided not to do so. He told Chris to sleep in her car, spend the night under the stars, and reflect on her current situation until the morning, when Null would help her find a temporary roof over her head until August 5th.

Barbara tightly manages Chris's finances. Those are Null's words, not mine. You want to know why Barbara's been having trouble with the house and shit? CHRIS HAS BEEN STEALING MONEY FROM HER FOR YEARS. HER CREDIT IS ALL SORTS OF FUCKED, SHE'S BURIED IN DEBT, AND IT'S CHRIS'S FAULT. THE PERSON WHO'S SUPPOSED TO BE TAKING CARE OF HER.

How did we find out about Chris recently getting more money, specifically $750? Well, Null has had access to Chris's emails for the past few years (Chris knows this), and he found an email that Barbara had sent Chris money.

That's a violation of the EPO (Emergency Protective Order) that was put into affect for Barbara. Chris was NOT supposed to contact Barbara in ANY way, shape or form.

Null asked Chris about this and told her that this was a violation of the EPO. He asked her if her mom sent her money. Chris denied it at first, and then went into the whole goddess bullshit she goes into. She then admitted to accessing Barbara's banking account online and wiring the $750 to HER account. Chris also said that she'd pay her back the $750 after receiving the $1000 that Null was supposed to send to Chris. Null was obviously upset with what Chris had done. Who wouldn't be?

Guess what Null did in reaction to what Chris told him? HE BLOCKED CHRIS AND REPORTED HER TO THE POLICE. I'm honestly surprised he stuck with her this long. He genuinely wanted to see Chris become a better person.

It's only a matter of time for Chris's arrest. With all this information that's out there now, more information probably coming very soon, plus people close to Chris confirming all of this....I feel it's safe for me to say that Chris did s3xually assault her mother.

I don't feel bad for Chris anymore. I have no sympathy for Chris. Any ounce of respect for this person has been long since gone. I don't feel comfortable even referring to Chris as a person. She's a monster.

I talked about Chris a few times a few years ago on Instagram, and I got yelled at for tearing this motherfucker apart. Because apparently I was an "ableist bully" for having my grievances with Chris, despite the fact that I'm autistic too and I've never "bullied" Chris for being autistic. Not even once. My grievances had more to do with Chris using her mother and their animals to exploit them for her own monetary gain INSTEAD OF TRYING TO FIND A JOB. I've even tried to suggest that she go work through a temporary work industry and get paid daily. (At that time, I didn't know that trying to interact with Chris wasn't a very good idea. I've since learned, obviously.)

Here's a link to Gibi's video:

youtube

Dillon Thomas's video:

youtube

The stream with Null:

youtube

Geno Samuel's stream:

youtube

Here's Rogue's video and live stream he did about the situation. Rogue is one of my FAVORITE YouTubers, as edgy as his content is.:

youtube

Thank you for your time.

#mello speaks #tw chris chan #chris chan #anti chris chan #tw sex assault #tw r@pe #tw elder abuse #cw kiwi farms #cw 4chan #chris chan is disgusting #justice for barb #gibi #dillon thomas #rogue the internet man #geno samuel #josh null #Youtube #tw inc*st

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alottanothing · 3 years

Text

Kismet

Summary: Evie prepares a meal for the stranger who helped her and finds herself more than a little smitten.

Previous Part: Hope

Word Count: 5707

Warnings: Language

Tag List: @ramilicious, @txmel, @edteche2, @gloriousdarkangelsworld, @diasimar, @xmxisxforxmaybe (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: Okay, I almost didn't get this up today because I was up most of the night sewing kilts for Highland Weekend at the Ohio Renfiare. BUT I stayed awake and did my final read-through, so this should be mostly okay. I skipped a couple steps in my editing to get this up on time but I think, for the most part, it's okay. If you see a grammatical booboo, just ignore it, I'll get in here sometime this week with my other two editing steps and find it, then repost this. Capisce? Okay, cool...now. I hope you enjoy it, I also hope my trying to phonetically write Mer's accent doesn't get too annoying. I know you really shouldn't write accents, but I think it helps add to the characters. And I do try to keep it to a minimum so it doesn't get annoying. Thanks for the love the first part received last month! I know waiting so long between updates is a bit sad after weekly updates with LtR. But life is busy right now and once a month is all can guarantee.

Jonny did not know how to keep a house.

In fact, Jonny did not know how to do much more than drink, argue, and get into fights. He was nothing but a thorn in Evie's side—never mind how much she needed him for a place to lay her head. A necessary thorn was still a thorn. Given the opportunity, she would rip it out as soon as she could and dress the wound promptly so she was finally able to heal better. She stayed only because she had no other choice. And every time Jonny raised his voice or stumbled in reeking of alcohol and red-faced, Evie could hear her best friend's warning in her head. Cynthia had begged her not to go with him, but she hadn't listened.

Oh, how she wished she had.

Luckily, Jonny wasn't the kind of man who liked to stay home which eased the ache of the ever-present thorn in her side. Whatever money he did have, he spent out on the town—the town being New Orleans. Like Evie, Jonny had been born and raised in the Big Apple, the noise and the chaos was part of him. As such, he hadn't taken to the quiet suburban life Bridge City offered as well as Evie. She liked the quiet, easy flow of the sleepy town. Her housemate loathed his new home. He thrived in disarray, thus, he found a group of like-minded young men to run amok with in the neighboring metropolis every chance he got.

If Jonny had been any sort of amicable company, the notion of him leaving most every night to wreak havoc several miles away would have been upsetting. Thankfully, his penchant for city life meant a good portion of Evie's days were spent out from under Jonny's tyranny. The hours he was gone were blissful and calm, and she relished in them. Whether she was creating art or tending to chores around the old house, Evie didn't care as long as Jonny wasn't there—never mind how lonely the routine often was.

Evie had never gotten the chance to meet Jonny's maternal grandmother, though she suspected she would have liked to. Unlike her grandson, she seemed like any other sweet elderly woman judging by the furnishings she'd left behind. There were dozens of lace doilies, and table cloths with soft patterns, decretive china even, but it was the plethora of photos the old woman kept that told Evie she'd carried a kindly heart. All of them were kept in pristine albums or intricate frames; they were the only barbles that seemed to have been cleaned or dusted with any regularity which spoke of how much she must have treasured them. Evie loved those tiny trinkets and black and white memories. It didn't matter that they were not her legacy of family heirlooms to keep, she adored them anyway.

She couldn't count the number of times she'd replaced a broken frame that had fallen victim to Jonny's drunken belligerence or scrubbed tirelessly at a stain he'd left on the patterned tablecloths. It proved to be a hefty undertaking, but dwelling in the fantasies of someone else's history let her forget the grief of her own. She was willing to sacrifice a little elbow grease if it allowed her mind to roam away from the shadow that never really seemed to vanish.

For all the effort Evie put in on the interior, the cottage held little in the way of curb appeal. The porch was sunken in the middle, the paint was peeling off in chunks, and the yard was mostly weeds. Worst, however, was the screen door which squeaked so loudly, every dog in the neighborhood howled in protest every time someone crossed the threshold. The outside needed love that Evie simply didn't have the energy to lend. Despite the grit, however, the foundations were sturdy enough that she didn't worry. The cottage proved to be stronger than she looked—a feat Evie felt she had in common with the old house. And while it was a swell enough place to rest her head, it never truly felt like home. Home was somewhere safe, and as long as Jonny lived under that roof she wasn't safe. Not really.

Fortunately, Jonny wasn't home when Evie returned after her run-in with Mr. Shelton—Mer, she corrected herself with a hint of a giddy smile. Without her housemate there, her evening promised to be hopeful instead of lonely, and she wasted no time in figuring out what to make for dinner.

With her red pumps replaced by her worn-in slippers and her blue checkered apron secured around her waist, she set a pot of water to boil and dialed the phone conveniently located in the kitchen. Every evening she called her sister-in-law to pass the time and keep up on unimportant gossip back home; this time, however, Evie was excited to finally have some good news to share.

"You got the job, didn't you?" Cynthia Clarke asked on the other end, sounding hopeful. "I knew you would."

Evie grinned, still amazed how the sound of Cyn's voice always seemed to settle some of the ever-present anxieties buzzing in her head. She missed her friend so much.

"I didn't even say yes."

"Did you or did you not get the job?" Cynthia pressed.

"I did," Evie confirmed and her smile grew hearing her friend cheer on the other end of the phone.

"See! I knew it." Cynthia said. "My gut feeling is always right."

Evie rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly.

"I think I'm gonna like working there too, so that's good." she mused as she stood at the stove, eyeing the pot of water she’d set to boil.

"That's so great, Ev. I'm so proud of you." Cynthia paused before continuing. "So, what are you up to tonight? Avoiding Jonny?"

"Sorta," Evie nodded even though she knew her friend wouldn't see.

As she continued to watch her cooking pot of water she told Cynthia all about her trouble with Jonny's car and the man who'd been so kind to help her.

"Wait. You invited the stranger over who fixed the car?" Concern was heavy in Cyn's voice, and Evie half expected a lecture to follow.

Despite knowing each other since childhood, Cynthia had taken on the role of her protector since Evie's family was no longer in the picture. The war had claimed Evie's father, and brother—although they'd never found her brother, Jimmy after he disappeared behind enemy lines. Evie never lost hope that Jimmy would one day be found, Cynthia though, was certain her husband was never coming home. After Cyn’s brother, Charlie, died at Normandy Cynthia had difficulty believing anyone was going to make it home. As for Evie's mother, losing a child and her husband to the war was too much for her tender heart and she passed not long after. Ever since, Cynthia was overcome with the need to act as Evie's guardian.

"He wouldn't let me pay him," Evie explained. "So I'm making him dinner—it seemed like the least I could do."

"I suppose…." Cynthia didn't sound convinced, if anything she sounded slightly irritated there was no quick way for her to argue the logic. "Just be careful, Evie. You don't know this guy—he could be another Jonny Doyle. Or worse."

"He's not," Evie said quickly. She wanted nothing more than to tell her friend all about how benevolent Mer was, but she decided against it. Cynthia would only argue that point somehow.

A long pause followed, and Evie wedged the receiver between her ear and shoulder so her hands were free to work on the meal.

"So, what are you cooking?" This time, there was a hint of jest in her friend's tone when she spoke.

The art of cooking was one creative outlet that Evie struggled with, second only to music. In her youth, her mother did all the cooking—it was a passion of her mother's—thus Evie had done little more than watch in wonder as her mother whipped up meal after meal effortlessly. Breakfast she the meal she was probably best at, apple pies too, but anything beyond that Evie required a step by step guide to prepare. And even then she lacked confidence. Thankfully, when she'd fled south, she remembered to grab her mother's cookbook. It was a cumbersome tome with yellowed pages and notes scribbled into the margins: a piece of art itself cultivated over years of collecting recipe after recipe starting the moment her mother stepped off the boat that brought her from Ireland. And like a witch and her spellbook, Evie depended on it.

"Spaghetti with garlic bread," Evie admitted feeling as though the meal lacked a certain something.

Pasta was something she knew held a low degree of difficulty when it came to preparing. Surely she couldn't mess up pasta.

“Mmm, I can almost smell it,” Cynthia said.

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously,” Cyn replied. “You’re mom’s spaghetti recipe was always my favorite.”

A doleful smile pulled at the corners of her lips, thinking back to her mother happily cooking in the kitchen as she sang a Celtic tune. It seemed strange that those moments would never again play out, instead they’d become bittersweet memories Evie could only relive in her mind.

“Mine too,” she murmured, suddenly missing her family.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, and Evie’s mind roamed the dregs of her grief before blinking back into reality and the hope of something happy to come.

“I need to go, Cyn,” Evie told her friend with a sigh. “I don’t want to burn the garlic bread.”

Cynthia chuckled and said her goodbye, only after making Evie promise to call her in the morning to let her know how everything went.

With her second hand restored after hanging up, Evelyn reached for her mother’s cookbook to give the steps another look over to ensure she had done everything and added every herb and ingredient she was supposed to. She’d followed everything perfectly, even factoring in the little notes scribbled into the margins left there by her mother—those she smiled at fondly and traced the fading ink with her fingers. Everything was as it should be. Even so, without a taste, Evie knew the sauce she had prepared would never be as savory as what her mother made so effortlessly.

“You were the artist in the kitchen, Ma,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll stick to paper and canvas.”

For the smallest of a moment Evie thought she would hear the warmth of her mother’s laugh, and when it never came she sighed again, trying not to dwell on the shadows behind her. What mattered was the light ahead.

Despite her lack of confidence, the meal came together without any severe hiccups. The noodles were not overcooked, the sauce was a complementing mix of savory and sweet (though, as she had guessed after a tiny taste, was not nearly as good as her mother's) and the garlic bread was nicely golden. A small tingle of pride manifested in the form of a surprised, but satisfied, smile as she surveyed the dinner before her.

“Not bad, Ev,” she told herself, knowing her mother would have been delighted.

With the cooking done, Evie threw a glance over her shoulder to the clock mounted on the wall, triggering a surge of anxiety to bubble in her gut. Stranger, perhaps, was the amount of excitement coursing through her veins. It was as though all of her happiness was riding on whether or not she would see Merriell again. None of it made sense; the man was little more than a stranger. The coupling of nerves and delight was not a feeling that put her ill at ease, however. She trusted it. And it was that peculiar sensation that seemed to fuel her movements.

With a few minutes to spare, Evie wandered into the small bathroom to freshen up. She made sure her hair was still pinned the way she liked—up and pretty. Her make-up was holding up nicely despite the heat; all she needed was a fresh layer of lipstick to complete the illusion of a put-together young lady. It wasn't often she wore a dress with heels and a face of cosmetics—she liked to when the opportunity arose, but she was just as comfortable in a pair of old overalls and smudges of charcoal on her face.

Just as she wiggled back into her red pumps—discarding her worn-in house slippers with a couple of calculated kicks—a knock on the door signaled Merriells arrival. Immediately a grin curled onto Evie's lips and her heart began to pound an anxious-excited rhythm. A blush threatened to color her cheeks to give away the torrid muscle beating in her chest—her ever yearning heart already making leaps and bounds for a man she had known for mere hours.

Don't be ridiculous—she warned herself taking in a deep breath to curb the eagerness coursing in her veins. Untying her apron, she tossed it along with her discarded slippers and went to answer the door, taking one last deep breath to steady the fervor in her heart.

Merriell had changed and showered. The sweet bouquet of his shampoo coupled invitingly with the musk of the aftershave he'd chosen, making it difficult for Evie to keep from soaking in the scent he carried. His curls were still somewhat damp—too much moisture in the air to keep the heat from drying them on his way over—though they fought to spring back into their previous fluff. The grease-covered, jeans he'd been wearing had been replaced by a nice pair of tan slacks, and the buttoned shirt he wore was a soft shade of green that made his eyes glitter a deeper emerald as he stood under the glow of the porch light. All Evie could do was stare—utterly beguiled—every rational thought in her head lost to her.

Mer smirked, amused by her ogling. "Hiya."

Evie blinked, coming back to reality, suddenly feeling foolish, and uttered a nervous "hi" before swinging her arm to invite him inside.

"Come in."

Merriell's smile grew as he crossed the threshold, inhaling deeply. "Mm, smells tasty in here."

He gently forced a bottle into her hands as he passed on his way to investigate the savory smells in the kitchen.

"I wasn' sho what ya was makin', but I figured wine usually goes with anythin'."

"Oh, thank you." Evie glanced at the label, unable to read the French words printed there. "You didn't have to bring anything."

"I know," Mer shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to make a good impression."

There was something almost boyish when he smiled then—cheeks coloring pink ever-so-slightly—that made him even more of a mystery. One Evie was eager to solve.

"Well," she said placing the bottle on the kitchen table. "It should go perfectly with dinner."

His expression lost a hint of its boyish charm as it grew into a look of delight.

"Make yourself at home," Evie gestured vaguely between the table and the sofa in the living room as she ventured to the cabinet where the stemware was kept.

She placed two crystal glasses on the table along with the wine and retraced her steps to fetch some of the nicer china Jonny's grandmother had kept. Mer watched her, his gaze, gentle and attentive, and a little bit yearning as she methodically sat the table.

"Need help with anythin'?" he asked finally.

"Nope," She replied with a smile. "Everything is almost ready."

The hearty red sauce on the stove was beginning to boil again which told her it was hot enough to serve, and Evie eyed the pot with scrutiny, praying silently her attempt at cooking would go over well.

"I'll pour us a glass then," Mer announced.

"Great, lemme…" Evie spun to fish for the corkscrew in the drawer of misfit utensils, finding it, only to turn to see Merriell holding his lighter against the neck of the dark bottle just below the cork.

Before she could ask, a loud pop sounded, causing her to jump as the cork went flying.

"Oh my goodness!" she laughed, a little surprised, a little impressed. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Mer shrugged, a sly expression on his features, and left her question unanswered.

"How much ya want?" He held the open bottle over the top of her glass, waiting patiently.

"Enough," she said, tossing him a coy smirk without really meaning to.

He bit his lower lip as he smiled, chuckling under his breath when he poured a generous glass of red wine for each of them. She thanked him as he took his seat and grabbed his plate to dish out their dinner.

"How much pasta would you like?"

Mer's face lit with charm and mischief as he turned to face her.

"Enough," he grinned.

The expression on his face was playful, his smirk devious and amused by his own response and his cheekiness settled warmly in Evie's stomach. Not only did she revel in it, but she also played into his whimsy and scooped as much spaghetti into his plate as she could before coupling it with the savory sauce and a slice of bread.

Despite being only strangers, the atmosphere that bloomed that evening was not marked by any hint of bashfulness, instead, it was relaxed and amiable. Warmth that Evie had longed to dwell in again—that unrefutable kindness she'd lost with the passing of her family—flowed uninhibited from the man sitting adjacent to her. His conversation was cautious but still jovial and genuine. It was the first time since running south Evie could recall what life felt like without grief and fear weighing upon her. Merriell was a stranger, but she felt safe with him. Jonny had never made her feel that way.

"So," Evie spoke as she twirled the last bit of pasta with her fork. "What is it you do, Mr. Shelton?"

Mer cast her a look of disapproval—no doubt in retaliation to being addressed so formally—before his features softened back into a neutral, yet somehow still amused side smirk.

"Nothin' too excitin'," he stated vaguely. "The odd jobs are what I like ta do the most—like fixin' ya car this aftah noon."

Without really meaning to, Evie leaned forward, resting her elbow and chin on the table, utterly enchanted by the beautiful stranger at her table.

"You like to get your hands dirty, huh? Fixing things?" she was entirely too intrigued with the thought of what he could do with his hands.

He shrugged, suddenly modest after a foray of playfully arrogant smirks and glances. It made him abruptly twice as charming.

"I've always had a knack for it, I guess." Merriell finished the food on his plate with the help of his remaining garlic bread to mop up the sauce still left on his dish.

"What about you?" he asked after chewing. "Ya workin' anywhere?"

All at once, a proud smile lit up Evie's face. After all the excitement of seeing Merriell again, she'd almost forgotten about her good news.

"Actually, I just got a job today—the general store downtown, Southern Comfort."

Mer's face lit up too, "Birdie's place?"

"Yeah, you know it?" Of course, he knows it! She thought, Bridge City's population was slightly less than the number of people who lived in a single district back home in New York. Everyone knew everyone else.

"Sho do—I was practically raised there…ole Birdie's like a second mothah to me."

"Really?" Evie found a great deal of comfort in that notion. In fact the more she thought on it, the more she realized how similar the old woman and Mer were; they radiated the same magnetism and sincerity.

"Mmhm," he nodded, his eyes focusing elsewhere as the veil of memories danced across the contours of his features. "My mama used ta work there…once upon a time…"

"Does she still work there?"

Merriell's face lost a hit of its levity and he swallowed as though to fight off the onslaught of sudden emotion threatening to cast a shadow onto his expression.

"No…" he said softly. "She—uh—she died, about a year ago."

Shit!

Abruptly, sick knots twisted into Evie's stomach, feeling callous, but understanding of the quiet misery he hid under layers of charm and arrogance.

"Merriell, I'm…I'm sorry—I didn't mean…"

He met her eyes and cast her a quick smile—doleful, but enough to ease the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"It's okay," he reassured her, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a good gulp before changing the subject. "Birdie's great—you'll enjoy workin' for her."

"I hope so…" Evie said softly, still too embarrassed to meet Mer's glance longer than a second or two.

For the first time all night the atmosphere they shared felt cumbersome—perhaps more melancholy—than she'd wanted it to get. Evie sat, worrying her bottom lip, her fingers toying with a loose thread in the table cloth as she stole quick glances through her lashes in Mer's direction.

He was nursing the alcohol in his glass with the same sadness she'd caught plaguing him as he sat at the bar hours ago. And while Evie was eager to know if his grief stemmed only from the loss of his mother, or perhaps more, Merriell was still too much of a stranger to warrant such questions. It didn't matter how easy it was to be near him, she had not earned the right to know his narrative.

A soft sigh broke past her lips as she fought to find a way to properly allay the gloom that was quickly ruining an otherwise wonderful evening. It wasn't until her eyes found their desert sitting on the counter, waiting to save the day, that she perked up.

"Got any room for apple pie?" Evie asked with a hesitant smile. She hoped he wanted to stay long enough to have a slice, though she would not have blamed him for wanting to leave.

Immediately Mer perked up too, the shadows on his features retreating with the promise of something sweet.

"I was countin' on it—seems as how you promised a slice earlier," he said with a boyish grin.

When she stood, he did too, helping clear away their dinner plates, and letting them soak in the sink to be washed later. Evie cut them each a slice of apple pie and the delight on Mer’s face made her smile too seeing him lick his lips as his grin continued to grow. Catching that flash of his tongue was like a bolt of hot lightning striking her without warning; a blush rose so quickly on her cheeks Evie had to look away to keep the blunder a secret. Thankfully, the pie was more than enough to hold Merriell’s attention away from her.

“Mmmm… Almost looks too good to eat,” he said ogling the desert in front of him.

When Evie chanced a look his way, the expression on his face caused her to chuckle, “‘oughta be, I made one for my pa every year for his birthday since I was nine. It’s probably the only thing I have any confidence in making in the kitchen.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Mer quipped as he loaded his fork with as much pie as he could.

The moment he took a bite, his brows creased, and eyes closed as he chewed painfully slow. Those few seconds were like agony. Evie’s heart was pounding in her chest with so much anticipation she feared she might faint as she watched him sample the only thing she could actually make that was worth a damn.

“Fuck me, if that ain’t the best apple pie I’ve evah had the pleasure of tasting.”

A somewhat nervous, but relieved chuckle sounded in the back of Evelyn’s throat as she watched Merriell shovel a larger bite of pie into his mouth.

“Mmm… Yep. God damn delightful.”

“Stop,” Evie said sheepishly, suddenly afraid he was overselling his reaction to keep from hurting her feelings.

“No,” he wiped his mouth and leaned across the table to meet her gaze with a sincere expression that stole away all the doubt writhing in her stomach.

“I mean it. If I wasn’t so full of pasta, I’d eat that whole damn pie right now.”

“Well,” Evie grinned softly, trying not to let her blush color her cheeks too obviously. “Thank you. And you’re welcome to take the rest of it when you go.”

Excitement took form on his face with a smirk that was sweet but roguish all at once—a sort of debonair charm that amplified his magnetism—as if his bright eyes dark curls and razor-sharp jaw did not make him alluring enough already. Again she had to look away knowing the pink in her cheeks would be too strong to combat.

“Imma have ta take ya up on that offah. An’ I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout you every time I cut me a slice.”

That blush was unstoppable; her heart was suddenly so smitten, it felt as though butterflies were fluttering merrily in her stomach. She felt weightless with warmth and hope swelling in her bosom, fearing any slight breeze would carry her off. It was ridiculous how at ease Evie felt sitting there eating pie with a complete stranger. The conversation had been easy all night; even when it had delved into less savory topics he still made her feel comfortable. Evelyn had forgotten what it was like to be in the company of a man who wasn’t easy to anger, who was genuine and kind and wanted only to live in the moment.

For a time the whimsy of the atmosphere faded as the warmth in her heart ached, suddenly missing her brother James and Cynthia's brother Charlie. Both of them were good men, kind and genuine—like Merriell—but they had been swallowed by the rages of war. Brave young men were lost forever, while a man like Jonny Doyle was still alive How was that fair?

No matter how pleasant her thoughts could be, they always fell back to the grief that plagued her. She sighed, deeply, pushing those intrusive memories back into the depths of her mind so she could find joy once more in the moment with a kind stranger.

When Merrill finished his plate he made a beeline for the sink full of soaking dishes.

“Oh, no,” she said jumping to her feet. “I can do those.”

Merriell, however, shook his head. “Uh-uh, you did the cookin’, I can do the cleanin’.”

When Evie tried to argue, Mer simply shook his head, his grin amused but determined as he kept scrubbing the dirty dishes.

“Let me help at least,” she suggested. “I’ll dry and put them away.”

Before he could protest, she snatched the freshly rinsed dish from his hand and began wiping away the droplets of water clinging to the porcelain surface, throwing him a smug smirk that made him chuckle.

“Alright,“ he smirked.

She watched him for a moment not really paying attention to her task as he scrubbed the old plates clean, overcome with a blissful vision of peaceful domesticity. It made her stomach fill to the brim with whimsy and her heart was fluttering again; had this stranger bewitched her already? Or did what she feel bubbling lightly in her gut like a seltzer stem from an end to her loneliness—even if it was only for a few hours? Evelyn didn’t know. Nevertheless, she was intrigued with a profound feeling and she wanted to dwell in it for as long as she could.

Occasionally as he would hand a freshly washed dish her way, his calloused fingertips would brush against her skin, igniting a spark she didn’t know how to react to. It was more than an amicable tingle racing from the tips of her fingers right to her heart. And each time they touched, Merriell would cast her a gentle smile that held nothing more than his inherent charm and magnetism. She wondered if he felt it too, or if her need for companionship was playing a dirty trick on her.

When the dishes were all back in their usual places—the night drawing to a close—Evelyn realized she was not ready to say farewell to her Beautiful Stranger. She longed to stay up all night just chatting with him, she did not care about what, Evelyn only wanted to stay encompassed a while longer in the blissful warmth he brought into her life. Once he was gone, all she would be able to do was stay up and ponder the significance of those little touches and the sparks they brought.

Thankfully, Merriell lingered on the old rickety porch, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his plate of leftover pie, seeming to stall their inevitable departure.

“Well,” he said with a grin. “Thank you for invitin’ a stranger ovah for dinna.” He paused, glancing at the leftover pie in his hand. “Can’t recall ever having a better plate of pasta, an’ nothin’ evah gonna beat this pie.”

Evie quickly looked at her feet to hide another blush.

“It was the least I could do,” she told him before looking back to meet his eyes. “You have no idea how much of a savior you were this afternoon…”

A glint of concern flashed in his eye, his brows beginning to crease as his unspoken question lingered between them.

She thought about telling him—telling him how Jonny was nothing more than a throne in her side, and how much she cherished Merriells company—but Mer was still a stranger. It wasn’t right to unload so much onto someone she’d only known for a few hours.

Before Mer could offer any reply, the sound of screeching tires stole all their focus as an old wagon pulled along the curb—narrowly missing a collision with the mailbox. The rowdy passengers were laughing and shouting loud enough even before the door opened to let Jonny stumble out. He staggered on drunk feet and screamed a handful of profanities to his buddies in the car which made them all roar with laughter.

It was only after the wagon full of hooligans pulled away that Jonny began to stagger towards the house, and it was exactly then that Evie’s fluttering heart became consumed with panic.

She and Mer watched him cross the yard, unseen, both frozen: Evie in fear and Merriell in confusion. Jonny’s intoxication level inhibited him from taking notice of them until he was at the base of the steps leading onto the porch. Immediately, his eyes narrowed and he frowned.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Jonny, this is Mr. Merriell Shelton,” Evie said quickly, willing her voice not to shake.

The Doyle’s were not known for their hospitality, nor were they known to trust most people. Especially strangers.

“He helped me this afternoon with a bit of trouble I was having,” she explained vaguely, hoping to thwart any more suspicion. “I made him dinner to say thank you—he’s just about to leave.”

Jonny eyed Merriell, seizing him up as best he could through drunken lenses. Mer stood his ground, eyeing him back with a subtle intensity that never so much as cracked under Jonny’s scrutiny.

Finally, being the better man, Mer held out his hand in a friendly manner, “nice ta meet ya.”

Jonny cast a prolonged glare at Merriell's open hand, his brows furrowed and part of his lip hiked up in a sort of snarl. Instead of returning the kind gesture, Jonny made a show of spitting at his feet before tossing his heavy leer at Evelyn.

"Evie, do not invite any more strangers into my house. I don't care if they are dying." He shoved past them both, purposely bumping Mer's shoulder (most likely in hopes to start something) muttering as he went: "I don't trust any of these filthy southerners."

Shock sent Evie's jaw slack; this time the redness in her cheeks was a symptom of embarrassment instead of infatuation. She should have known Jonny would say something rude and uncouth. Without another thought, she grabbed Mer by his sleeve and pulled him across the lawn until they stood next to his truck parked along the curb.

"I am so sorry about him," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at Jonny's house, ashamed and angry.

Mer shrugged as he placed his partially eaten pie in the passenger seat through the open window before fixing his hands in his front pockets.

"Ya boyfriend's a bit of an asshole."

"He is not my boyfriend," Evie corrected vehemently. "I don't think he knows that though. I'm just staying here until I can figure some things out."

Merriell was quiet a moment, nodding silently. It seemed as though he was taking his time processing the whole situation. There was compassion on his face and behind his eyes, but it was guarded somehow. Evie caught it though and she was grateful when he didn't ask the questions plainly forming in his mind.

"Well," he said finally, his tone light as one corner of his mouth quirked into a grin. "Since he ain't ya othah half, I feel more inclined ta leave ya with this…"

Gently, Merriell caressed her upper arm as he leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek. He let his lips linger slightly longer than was common for such an act, that all at once wove a new hopefulness into her heart.

"Dinna was swell," he added as he pulled away, his smile somehow more charming than it had been all night. "Hope I see ya again, Evie."

"Me too," she murmured.

Evie watched as he got in his truck to leave, her hand held to the cheek he'd graced with his kiss. And when he drove away, it took everything inside of her to keep from running after him.

#Beautiful Stranger Series #Merriell Shelton x Original Character #Merriell Shelton #Snafu Shelton #HBO War #The Pacific #The Pacific Fanfiction #Rami Malek Fanfiction

29 notes · View notes

khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Note

I really said fuck classes who needs notes anyway (i do I have 5 tests in the next two weeks)

before I post my live blog here, I feel like people really underestimate how bad rumors are and how much they fuck with your mental health. they don't lose sleep over them, they don't think twice. but these things are harmful as fuck. they leave wounds that take so long to recover from because you keep on thinking about these lies who to others are "just words"

I've been there. it's not fun. I wish I had the courage back then to stand up to those rumors which I have now. these things never leave you. others might move on but the healing process is a journey that is long and hard. I wish more people understood just what effect their words can have.

Yeah, he knew a thing or two about family members going overboard with glitter.

IT'S RAFAEL CENTRIC GHSYGUJDUYDFUIKFDUIDFIUDF

TAVVY

DCSUIHDCSUIDUYUDICUIVSDUIHFVSUILFBUHKIFSV

I feel like I keyboard smash A LOT

“You will never drink even if you are not riding the bike,” Dad had pointed out – all Consul Voice and threatening glares. “The legal age for drinking in New York is 21.”

“But it’s 15 in Idris!”

“Well unfortunately for you, we are in Exile,” dad had grinned.

DAD ALEC UHIKSFDUIHKSGUIKSDVUIHKDVUHIKSVD

Max had a habit of ‘borrowing’ things and selling them on eBay. In his brother’s defense, Bapak had so many clothes that he never noticed when things disappeared. But Rafael did since he had a habit of wearing his father’s clothes.

The warlock – not the shadowhunter.

He wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those sweaters.

Now that Rafael was 18, he was almost as tall as his father.

The shadowhunter – not the warlock.

I AM SCREAMING

I love how he's clarifying which one he's talking about

“Do you know I used to have a crush on Lily Chen?” Tavvy blushed. “But then I found out she made out with Helen once and it kinda got weird.”

Ah yes. I remember. Does Rafael know that Alec also walked in on them?

ARCHITECT TAVVY

SDHDVUHDFSV,YDSFVUYVSFFUSVFUVFS

SHADOWUNTERS ATTENDING MUNDANE COLLEGES

“Dude, college kids don’t give a shit,” Tavvy laughed. “You could walk into a lecture covered in runes, holding a seraph blade and they wouldn’t give you a second look.”

“Cause they are chill?”

“Yes. But mostly cause they are dead inside,” Tavvy chuckled.

Surprisingly that's exactly what my grade 6 prefect told me (DAMN WHY AM I ALWAYS REMEMBERING GRADE 6 IT'S BEEN YEARS. that was a horrible year *shudders*)

ANJALI IS A CENTURION

LMAO THIS IS WHAT RAFAEL MEANT WHEN HE SAID HE WOULDNT WANT TO GO TO THE SCHOLOMANCE FOR PERSONAL REASONS

I still ship them.

“The meeting is going to go perfe-What is SHE doing here?”

Well, that was a quick change-

Unlike Aunt Maia, Lily did not like to be called Aunt Lily. So, Rafael respected her wishes. Max of course continued to call her Aunt Lily and sometimes Abeula Lily since his brother had a pathological condition of pissing people off.

THAT'S SO MAX OMG JHSXUHSCUHISDHUHUKIDVS

great now I miss Raphael

I HAVE A CLASS IN 7 MINUTES STOP MAKING ME CRY

that is so thoughtful of him though...

tears.

“There are no photos of Raphael,” Lily sighed.

“Because he is a vampire?” Tavvy asked sympathetically.

“Because he is Raphael,” she grinned. “Vampires can most certainly take photos. You should follow me on Instagram. My handle is simp_for_carstairs.”

Of course, it is. No one is surprised.

Tavvy picked one up, took a large bite and it threw it back immediately. “Holy shit, that’s spicy!”

“White,” Lily and Anjali snorted at the same time.

white people and their bland foods smh

“She is not wrong,” Lily nodded seriously. “I’m a Jem Carstairs fan first and a vampire second.”

As she should be

UHDSUHDFSUHFDH ANJALI AND RAFAEL COMPETING ABOUT WHO'S LILY'S FAVORITE

He observed Anjali’s long dark hair spilled over her shoulders as her eyes stayed on Lily – sharp, protective and beautiful.

"Beautiful"

I AM NOT LETTING THIS GO

I'm THE DAMN CAPTAIN OF THIS SHIP

FUCKING RUMORS

I'm GONNA KILL SOMEONE

“Shadowhunters are awful gossips,” Anjali said. “Let’s not waste our time with this nonsense.”

There was something in her voice. Something he couldn’t put his finger on.

No, wait I want to know what was in her voice.

But no. It couldn’t be. They weren’t dating.

YET

Rafael was sure there was something more than friendship between them. But David was polite to a fault and Max was an oblivious little shit. So, obviously nothing had happened yet.

OH MY GOD THESE TWO

But this was different. He would tolerate rumours about himself. But he would not tolerate rumours about his family.

I and Rafael will beat up the people who spread these rumors together :D

“She once told me she likes sipping tea more than drinking blood.

I-

same.

NOT THAT I DRINK BLOOD-

RAFAEL LMAO NO

"I hate her she's so annoying"

continues to daydream about her and how tall she'd be without those boots, lies to tavvy about her dating someone

Why did he do that? What was the purpose? Did he not want other people to date just because he wasn’t dating anyone?

And he calls Max oblivious.

oh class started

shit

IDC IDC I'LL STILL BE READING

LEXI AND SELENA ARE AT THE ACADEMY

JACE HYPER FIXATING ON THINGS BECAUSE HE'S BORED IS SUCH A MOOD

“David and I added rosemary to this one,” Uncle Jace wiped his hands on his apron. “It has definitely improved the taste, hasn’t it?”

“Save me,” David mouthed from behind the man.

LMAO POOR DAVID

“Empty nest syndrome,” Rafael chuckled. “I’m glad neither Max nor I had to leave home. My fathers are much worse.”

He remembered his first sleepover at the institute. His parents had waited for “an excruciating hour” before crashing the institute and joining the sleepover themselves.

yup, that's them.

“David,” Rafael grinned. “Are you afraid of my father?”

“What? No! He is the just a regular person…who can throw me in the silent city any time he wants,” David rambled and then shook his head. “Where is Max?”

He tried to sound nonchalant. But Rafael noted the way the other boy’s eyes fluttered every time he said Max’s name.

Just the way a crooked smile appeared on his brother’s lips every time someone said David’s name.

Idiots

ok, there is so much to unpack here.

DAVID HAS A VALID REASON OK??

These two are such IDIOTS HUSDUHISCUIDSVCUIHVSDUHI

“Max said Bapak is biased, and that he needs an unbiased tutor. Uncle Ragnor volunteered,” Rafael chuckled. “God bless the poor man.”

“Max isn’t that bad,” David replied.

“Looks like you’re biased too, David,” Rafael winked and picked up a spare bow from the training room.

of course, he is.

G-FORCE KJHSDCUISDYUKDFSUYKDSVYUSFD

oh shit

WHO DID WHAT THIS TIME

what's the rumor and who do I need to kill

He didn’t know her well. But she knew a lot about him. Just as she knew a lot about the twins. She was one of those people who was oddly invested in his life just because Rafael happened to the Consul’s son.

what is her problem?

what the fuck

I need a minute

I need a minute to digest that

I'm so glad I closed my camera in class

what the actual fuck did she just say

tell me I'm hallucinating

times like these I wish I was Jared 19

no, because I'm actually speechless right now

Paige and Irene need therapy

OH SHE WENT THERE

“Paige, that’s enough!” the Dean snapped at her. “How dare you talk to him that way? You talk about warlock corruption but where all of you when Valentine exploited Jace and Clary? Where was this moral obligation when Valentine lied to his children and played with their feelings as if they were nothing but toys to be controlled and manipulated? I’m sick of shadowhunters victim blaming children instead of holding people like Valentine accountable.”

THANK YOU

SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK SIMON

I feel like we all focus so much on the "incest" and hate on clace we forget that this part of the story was literally an abuser seeing that the victim was recovering and took the only thing which made him happy from him

I can't believe this

“Children have been suffering for a long time now, Paige,” Uncle Jace said now, his fists balled at his sides. “Where were you when Alec proposed the child protection bill? We didn’t see any of you supporting it.”

“We had other priorities,” the older woman replied. “People were dying! It was not the right time for a new law. We could have always signed that bill later. There was no rush!”

OTHER PRIORITIES MY ASS BITCH FUCK YOU

hey just realizing Rafael is the token straight

I'M SORRY IM TRYING TO DISTRACT ME

“The Cohort who made children kill themselves to prove a point?” Uncle Simon asked dryly. “That Cohort?”

I am so close to either crying or killing someone or both.

This was Max’s spot since it had the best Wi-Fi coverage.

yeah trust me I spend all the time in the guest room because it has the best wifi coverage or the study.

MAX IS SMOKING TOO

YOU FUCKING IDIOTS

oh wait

oh they might be alec's

yeah

For the next thirty minutes, Max paced around the room, threatening to portal all the shadowhunters to hell.

Then he went on about a plan to attack the cohort and portal them all to hell too.

He kept talking about portalling people to hell.

MAX YES LET'S DO IT!!!!

But here is the thing about people, they don’t get to you. You get to them.

They simply say something and leave. They probably don’t even mean the things they say or lose sleep over it. But it wasn’t the same for you. You obsess over it. You stay awake at night and let it consume your dreams.

YES! To others, it's just words. meaningless. to you, the effect can be so so deep. it's not easy to always brush them off.

NO MAGNUS

THAT'S IT

MAX AND I ARE PORTALLING PEOPLE TO HELL

WE'RE DOING IT

why do we hurt others?

my teacher: ill take a test on this chapter. all 20 units

me: softly crying because people are little shits and they hurt others.

“Fuck everyone else,” dad hissed. “They’ve hurt our family enough.”

EXACTLY. LEAVE THEM ALONE.

“I am simply being honest with you,” Dad interrupted. “I could never be okay when you are away from me. But I will manage. Max is going to raise hell though. So, that’s going to be fun.”

AS HE SHOULD

Neither Rafael nor Max would never admit it out loud, but on the day of that sleepover, on the day their parents had crashed the institute bcause they had missed the kids too much…Rafael and Max had been only a moment away from calling their parents to come pick them up.

He's right though.

it'll take time. lots of it maybe.

BUT THE ACTUAL AUDACITY.

It fucked with his mind so much.

Rafael...ALRIGHT WHERE ARE MY FLAMETHROWERS

“DAD! BAPA! WAKE UP! RAFE IS TRYING TO RUN AWAY!”

MAX REMINDS ME SO MUCH OF MY LITTLE BROTHER

He had forgotten about the bloody paperwork. Shadowhunters on their travel year had to notify the Clave and get their paperwork in order.

Well, it shouldn’t be a problem since the Clave was standing across the hall.

EXACTLY

Because it was killing him. It was killing him not to be lying on the couch, his head resting on his Bapak’s lap just like every other Saturday morning.

It was killing him not to touch, not to love, not to care.

GET MY FLAMETHROWERS AND CANNIBAL GOLDFISHES WE HAVE SOME WORK TO DO

(goddamn every class I have taken so far the teacher has told us there is a test coming up it's 9 am in the morning.)

His brother growled at that like the little feral animal that he was.

that's adorable actually.

“Fine,” Max rolled his eyes. “Does this mean I can also travel? There is a Twenty One Pilots concert in Sydney and-”

“Nice try,” Dad said. “But no. You are staying here.”

“Excuse me, but what about my healing?” Max demanded. “I’ve been traumatised by this thing.”

“You can go to therapy,” Rafael winked at this brother.

Therapy is boring but useful so-

He needed to survive this. So, he decided to go back to the place he had learned how to survive in the first place.

He needed to go back home.

UGLY CRYING WHILE TAYLOR SWIFT PLAYS IN THE BACKGROUND AND MY HISTORY CLASS IN 2 MINUTES

I'm so proud of him for this...

I still say we kill these people.

JOAQUIN AND JULIETTE

UHISDCUIHFSDUGUIDFVDSDVFJHGDFVHUKDVHUKVF

Camilla Alvarez.

well well.

OH THEY KISSED

“Right,” Rafael had said. “Gap year. Besides, I do talk them. My brother threatened to paint my room in hot pink if I don’t text him every day.”

hands max a pint of paint HAVE AT IT

Max: Also – New Rumour. Dalliance between Lily and Tavvy.

Rafe: OMFG WHAT

Max: They are running with it and freaking old n*philim out.

AS THEY SHOULD UFUHIFUIHFUIHKFU

THE CENSORED N*PHILIM I'M SCREAMING

“He is hot.”

He laughed out loud. “Yeah. I hear that a lot.”

“Your dad looks kinda scary,” she pointed out.

Rafael laughed again. “Yeah. I kinda hear that a lot too.”

I'm liking this ship...

I'M STILL LOYAL TO THE RAFAEL AND ANJALI SHIP

but I'm happy for him. I'm glad he's getting the space he needs

Dad: Jst found legal age fr drnkng in Buenos Aires is 18.

Rafe: ????

Dad: I hv friends thr.

Rafe: ???

Dad: Thy r watchn u.

Rafe: Creepy but okay.

HJSDCGUIHJGSDCYUICVXUHVUHKDV

THE BOY'S DRINKING Y'ALL

Do it

MILA IS GOING TO NY!!

I like her. she's nice.

He was leaving soon. He didn’t see the point in lying to her. “I ran away from home. Kind of.”

“Why?”

“I hurt someone I love,” Rafael confessed. “The person I love most in the world.”

honey, it wasn't your fault... hugs

Shit. Why wasn’t Bapak going to the accords signing? He had been there for every single one since the very first time.

no no no no is something wrong?? I'm worried.

“You look taller,” Rafael told his brother who hadn’t grown an inch.

LMAO

Max and I are vertically challenged.

“Rafe, go to talk to him. Or I will tell everyone you’ve been smoking in the balcony!”

So, he was going to pin this on him, huh? This little shit.

well-

“You’ve progressed from freaking to fucking,” he pointed out.

“That’s not the fucking point, Rafael!” Max said in exasperation.

“You did it again,” Rafe pinched Max’s cheek. “My little brother is all grown up now. Linguistically I mean.”

“Dick."

I CAN'T WITH THESE TWO

When he had gone back to Buenos Aires, the place was completely different - even the shadow market.

There were no abandoned children in the streets. There were no racist and ignorant leaders exploiting innocent downworlders.

There was only growth.

His father had done that. Alec Lightwood had helped Joaquin and his people create a new world in Buenos Aires.

This shows how much people can flourish under good leadership if they really try.

YOU KNOW I'M SUPPOSED TO BE TAKING THESE NOTES DOWN, NOT CRYING OVER THIS.

“I will protect our family. I will protect our friends. I will protect those who ask for my protection. But I will not tolerate their hate. I will not turn my head and pretend it doesn’t hurt. Because it does hurt and that’s not okay.”

Rafael smiled at that. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s not okay.”

“The accords is important. But so am I. There is no point in signing a treaty that is meant to value equality if I have to sign it while being surrounded by those who refuse to respect me or my identity. I simply cannot do it, Rafael. I hope you understand.”

I'm sobbing like YES YOU DONT OWE THEM SHIT. THESE UNGRATEFUL BITCHES.

“It’s taken me a while to realize this. But I don’t owe the nephilim anything,” Bapak said firmly. “It’s about time they realize that too.”

YES EXACTLY

“I’ve known shadowhunters for a long time, Rafael. Good ones. Bad ones. All kinds of them – and shadowhunters have always defined themselves by their love. Not by your weapons. Not by your runes. Not by your last names. Not by your laws. Shadowhunters have always defined themselves by love. So, don’t ever let them take that away from you.”

I want this on a T-shirt. These damn shadowhunters and their love.

“Like the Accords Hall kiss?” Rafael grinned.

“It’s the stupidest thing your father had ever done – which is really saying something,” his father laughed. “But it’s also the bravest thing I’ve ever seen him do. And that’s how I knew.”

affectionate sigh that's alec.

“Good. Max is sitting in the porch and singing All by Myself,” Tessa chuckled and closed the door. “Just thought you should know!!”

Rafael giggled at that. “He must have given you hell.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Bapak shrugged, and Rafael raised an eyebrow. “Fine. I might have promised to buy him a car when he turns 18.”

“You’re hoping he would stop aging by then, aren’t you?” Rafael chuckled.

Max is so dramatic I aspire to be like him.

Blue banners when the lost return, the shadowhunter rhythm said.

Rafael had returned home – and he was no longer lost.

I'm ok I say as I cry during my history class

I'm so proud of him.

“Well, that needs to be rectified immediately,” Dad said in the Consul Voice and literally yelled. “I am about to kiss my son – on both cheeks! You better gossip about this too!”

“Oh my god, stop!” Rafael giggled and tried to escape.

“YAS!” he heard Uncle Jace yelled from somewhere. “GIVE US A FOREHEAD KISS TOO!”

THEY ARE SO DRAMATIC I LOVE THESE IDIOTS SO MUCH.

THEM ADDING TO THE ACCORDS AS THEY SHOULD OMG

“The hell is hate speech?” someone asked.

Do you not have a dictionary you uncultured swine

“There is a very clear difference between free speech and hate speech,” Cristina Rosales pointed out. “The fact that you don’t seem to know that is all the more reason for us to include this provision.”

YES CRISTINA

“By the angel,” an old man gasped. “There is no need to be so emotional. The younger generation can be such snowflakes.”

What if I just strangles him

“Discriminatory language?” a woman demanded. “What does that even mean?”

“Calling vampires bloodsuckers,” Lily Chen answered.

“Calling warlocks demon spawns,” Ragnor Fell pointed out.

“Calling werewolves fleabags,” Maia Roberts declared.

“Calling faeries half-breeds,” Kieran Kingson all but yelled.

The fact that they have had to deal with this shit for YEARS. (also why Kingson? isn't Kieran the king?)

THE QUEEN HERSELF IS HERE Y'ALL

“Which one of you shitheads said hate speech is harmless?” Anjali demanded, her voice booming over everyone and everything else.

YES ANJALI

Anjali had a grin of her own. “While that might true, Paige, there is most certainly a law on child protection. You didn’t just hurt Magnus Bane. You also hurt his son. Section 7 of the Child Protection Bill states that any person who physically or emotionally injures a child through ill-treatment, neglect, abandonment or abuse is guilty of breaking the covenant.”

“Damn straight!” someone yelled from the crowd – it sounded suspiciously like Kit.

CALL THESE BITCHES OUT YES

“Rafael is not a child!” someone yelled again. A lot of them this time. “It’s still not illegal. The law doesn’t say so!”

“By the angel, for someone who is obsessed with the law you people seem to know nothing about it,” Anjali said in exasperation. “The child protection law defines a child as a person under 18 years OR younger. The incident happened when he was still 18. It’s illegal.”

YES ANJALI FUCK THESE PEOPLE

“I’m the Inquisitor’s daughter,” she said. “Next time, think twice before you quote the law at me.”

SHOW THEM, QUEEN

How did she know his birthday????

ahem

“So, if you do hurt him emotionally, you can still be implicated. You will face charges and you can possibly be stripped of your runes,” Anjali pointed out seriously. “Now I ask you again. Does anyone else have to say anything about him?”

There was absolute silence then.

“Didn’t fucking think so,” Anjali spat. “I literally had to mention the stripping of your marks for you to respect another person’s basic rights. If you give half the value you place on your precious runes to other people, we wouldn’t be in exile right now.”

The Cohort looked terrified – of Anjali or their future in the Clave, Rafael didn’t know.

“People are dying,” Anjali said, her voice heavy now. “Our people are fucking dying, and you seem to be more bothered with who is sleeping with whom. Shame on you. Shame on all of you!”

She turned to the Council. The Inquisitor looked like he was going to cry from pride. Rafael’s dad looked half terrified but mostly impressed. Lily was blowing kisses at Anjali. The other downworld leaders looked quite pleased.

Shadowhunters are so fucking bigoted and narrow-minded. I'm seething right now.

also, alec looking scared-

“THAT’S THE BEST SHIT I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!” Emma Carstairs yelled.

“Goddamn, I wish Magnus was here to see this,” Uncle Jace grinned. “That was satisfying as hell.”

“No worries, I recorded the whole thing!” Kit put up his hand.

YES YES AND YES

“Fuck the Cohort,” Rafael giggled.

“Actually, I would prefer you use the word screw,” his father pointed out. “Screw the Cohort!”

“Oh my god, Dad!” Rafael rolled his eyes. “I am allowed to swear once in a while.”

“No, you are not,” Dad said firmly – this man was so not ready to meet Max’s new persona. “As your friend pointed out, you are still a child.”

Alec seeing Max curse left and right: 👁️👄👁️

"She hates me!"

“Rafael, she stood up for you in front of the entire Clave. She fought the Cohort. It was incredibly brave. I wish she had spoken to me before without causing all the chaos. So, it was a little stupid of course. But still brave.”

Stupid but brave.

YESYESYESYES IT'S HAPPENING!!!

ANJALI WHO HURT YOU

WHO DARED TO

Names. Give me names NOW

Jaime no...please no not Jaime.

please please, please

ok, I searched it up. And he can get treatment. He can live. It doesn't have to be serious. please, Jaime...

“If you ever tell anyone you saw me crying, I will drag you to Idris and drown you in Lake Lyn.”

This is such an Anjali thing to say.

OOO MILLA (Mila?) MESSAGED!!! Is there gonna be some sort of love triangle here??

me who despises love triangles (aside from TID of course): ...

BUT SINCE IT'S YOU I'M SURE IT'LL BE AMAZING. I'm still nervous about this though...

UHCUHDVUKDVHUKVHUVHM I LOVED THIS CHAPTER SO SO SO SO MUCH IT WAS A LITERAL ROLLERCOASTER AND ANJALI QUEEN I LOVE

see ya on Friday!!

OKAY I AM LOVING THIS ENERGY BUT PLEASE FOCUS ON YOUR CLASSES FJKSDFHJKSJFHKD I PROMISE THE STORY IS GOING TO BE HERE WHEN YOU GET BACK LOL.

But I am so glad you like it. Amidst all your screaming and chaos, I always find very perceptive and profound observations. It's fantastic! I love it so much!

Thank you for enjoying LBAF - and good luck with your tests!!!

#lbaf

16 notes · View notes

celestialflamesme · 2 years

Text

I posted 58 times in 2021

13 posts created (22%)

45 posts reblogged (78%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 3.5 posts.

I added 52 tags in 2021

#fairy tail next generation - 8 posts

#nashi dragneel - 8 posts

#fairy tail - 6 posts

#storm fullbuster - 6 posts

#nalu - 5 posts

#nasha x greige - 5 posts

#greige fullbuster - 4 posts

#gruvia - 4 posts

#gajevy - 3 posts

#stashi - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 47 characters

#i am a little too obsessed with ma headcanons😂

My Top Posts in 2021

Venetia: Here’s the thing though. Is it still a murder if I give them a heads up?

Gale: I think that’s called a threat.

42 notes • Posted 2021-06-22 06:31:26 GMT

Storm: Hey there, hot stuff.

Nashi: *giggling* Hey there, dark wizard.

Storm:

Storm: Wa?

Nashi: Coz you make all the ladies drop dead.*finger guns*

Storm: Aww.

Luke:

Luke: Daddd!

Nashi: GET BACK HERE, YOU TATTLETALE!!

46 notes • Posted 2021-06-20 11:17:42 GMT

Venetia: Yeeted

Nashi: Yote

Venetia: YEETED!

Nashi: YOTE!

Raidyn: I just wanna know WHO THREW THE GUY OUT THE WINDOW!

52 notes • Posted 2021-06-20 12:09:54 GMT

FAIRY TAIL NEXT GENERATION

FINALLY!! I'm going to begin writing a complete series about FTNG (do not ask when I will finish, that is up to the anime gods)

I NOW DUB THEIR GENERATION: THE FAERIES

And now for the reveal...... Here are my OCs (credit to@kkumri for a few of these character names and personas and for being 14 year old me's hero!!!) Nashi Layla Dragneel

Parents: Natsu Dragneel , Lucy Heartfilia

Magic: Fire Dragon slayer and Celestial Requip Mage (also known as Swiper for her ability to teleport zodiac weapons straight out of the hands of the zodiacs)

Age: 22 years She's overall the friendliest and most confident person you'll meet. Sometimes a little too stubborn for her own good though. She'd walk through hell and back for her friends, but is hesitant to ask for help, because she feels she is a burden, as untrue as it is. She loves reading like her mom, and missions involving patterns, spells and puzzles are her favorite kind.

Storm Ur Fullbuster

Parents: Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser

Magic: Ice Mage, Weather Manipulation Mage

Age: 22 years He's almost as reckless as Nashi but at the same time, he's as calm as they come (which is more than what he can say about his siblings) and has the world's worst sweet tooth. He can be counted on to make a reasonable decision, and is the first person his friends go to for advice. He'd take your secrets to the grave. His food is to die for.

Gale Metalicana Redfox

Parents: Gajeel Redfox, Levy McGarden

Magic: Archive Mage

Age: 23 years Twin to Genesis Redfox. He's the brains of every operation and can be counted on to produce blackmail info on any of his friends. He's a secret romantic, and once in a while one can find him and Nashi hunched over, discussing crazy theories over milkshakes. He will end your universe if you hurt any of his friends. He plays the guitar like his dad (only infinitely better).

Genesis Lily Redfox

Parents: Gajeel Redfox, Levy McGarden

Magic: Iron Dragon Slayer

Age: 23 years She's the crazy one of the group and is always on the lookout for chaos. She and Nashi together make up FT's Demolition Duo, with the record of most number of buildings destroyed in their pocket. She's the shortest Faerie (damn her brother for abandoning her!) and can kick butt and take ass like no other. She is ridiculously good at playing the drums.

Reiki Simon Fernandes

Parents: Jellal Fernandes, Erza Scarlet

Magic: Requip Mage

Age: 22 years He's the most responsible (and daresay, terrifying) Faerie. He loves training with his friends and has a big heart. He doesn't break rules persay, but a loophole or two never hurt anyway, although most of the time he's forced to string along on the gang's crazy shenanigans to check on them. He is a bear-hugger (and spine-cracker) and is sometimes very oblivious to the things right in front of him.

Kai Makarov Dreyar

Parents: Laxus Dreyar, Mirajane Strauss

Magic: Take Over Mage

Age: 24 years He is S-class but seldom found in the guild as he prefers being alone in his apartment (if only, but unfortunately Genesis and her exceed Frankie seem to consider it their second home) He is very protective of his guild and even in long absences, somehow knows everything that has transpired in the guild and with his friends (Gen is to blame) He takes S-class missions with Gale and Gen sometimes.

Nova Mavis Dreyar

Parents: Laxus Dreyar, Mirajane Strauss

Magic: Lightning Dragon Slayer

Age: 22 years She works part-time at the guild bar with Asuka after she turned 18. Loves scrapbooking, bopping to music and matchmaking. Sweetest of all the Faeries like her mom, always manages to get dragged into Gen and Nashi's crazy schemes (more than often, she's the ring leader but shh, nobody has to know...) Her hair frizzes up whenever she's upset (perks of being a lightning slayer, ugh.)

65 notes • Posted 2021-09-30 19:37:49 GMT

Storm: Drink the water.

Nashi: No.

Storm: Drink the water.

Nashi: No.

Storm: Drink. The. Water.

Nashi: No!

Storm: YOU CAN'T SURVIVE OFF OF DR. PEPPER!

Nashi: Try and stop me.

Storm: Okay, one sip. One sip. (hands over water)

Nashi (sniffs the water): BLEGH! IT SMELLS BAD!

Storm (rolling his eyes): Oh my gosh, you're so dramatic, just drink it.

Nashi:

Storm:

Nashi (takes tiny sip):

Storm (waits expectantly):

Nashi:

Nashi(spits it out): Egh! It burnss!

Storm: NO IT DOESN'T

69 notes • Posted 2021-06-09 16:43:30 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

10 notes · View notes

emma-nation · 3 years

Text

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU) - Chapter 5

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x f!OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Notes: I hadn't seen the video with all the sisters' lines, even those cut from the game. From the Maid's Diary we found, I assumed they could never leave the castle, even in Summer, as it was set in July like this fanfiction. I'll fix the mistake in this chapter. My apologies!

Thank you for all the reviews, follows and likes! It means a lot to me.

Trigger Warning: Language, abuse, blood and violence.

Castle Dimitrescu, Lady Dimitrescu's Bedroom - 3 Days Earlier

When Bela woke up in the morning after the attack, she had been taken to her mother's bed. After her transformation, she felt fragile like a child again. Not knowing who or what she was anymore, she was scared and lost. Her mother's bed felt like the safest place in the entire world. And it was. She loved being there. Alcina would never let anything or anybody hurt her. Nobody knew this side of her, when she acted like a loving and protective mother.

"Mother," she muttered, noticing Lady Dimitrescu was watching her and stroking her hair. "I'm sorry. I failed."

"Shhhh," Alcina kissed her daughter's forehead, "you need to rest now, daughter."

She started singing a jazz song Bela liked. Singing was one of her hidden talents. Her mother's voice was like a lullaby to her ears. She was almost falling asleep again, when flashbacks from the night before returned to her mind. She remembered being in Aleena's bed before falling asleep. She was holding Bela's hand, assuring her she'd be alright.

"Aleena," she sat down in an impulse. Bela feared what her mother and sisters could have done to the girl while she was sleeping. She started feeling agitated. "Where is she? I failed to protect her."

"She's fine. There's no need to protect her anymore, I asked Cassandra to keep an eye on her while I'm here with you."

Cassandra? But her mother knew Cassandra's intentions. She'd use Aleena to satiate each one of her desires and then, she'd kill her. If only she hadn't failed. If only she hadn't been so weak.

"But, mother... she's going to kill her. Please, she saved my life! She doesn't deserve to..."

"Nobody is going kill her, Bela. Once I have my goblet back, I'll let her go." Lady Dimitrescu pushed her back to the bed, tucking her under the blankets again. Then, she grabbed a book from the bedside table. "Why don't I read something for you? One of the stories you like?"

Bela forced a smile, listening as her mother began to read. She loved being there. It felt like the safest place in the world... in the past. Not anymore. Now she just felt betrayed.

When she noticed she was still wearing Aleena's jacket and inhaled her perfume, she thought there was somewhere else she'd rather be at the moment. Somewhere where she was truly feeling safe and happy. She wished to be in Aleena's bed again.

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Lady Dimitrescu's Bedroom - Present Days

Three days passed and Lady Dimitrescu still wouldn't let Bela leave her room, even if she already felt completely recovered. She wouldn't leave her side for more than a few minutes and not even her sisters were allowed to see her.

She had everything she always wanted. Her mother's exclusive attention, to be sure she cared about her as much as she cared about her sisters. Yet, it wasn't enough. Not anymore. There was something new inside her. A part of her that wasn't connected to the life she had lived so far, a life that only included Alcina, Cassandra and Daniela.

"Good morning, sunshine," Bela covered her eyes as the sunlight invaded the room, immediately pulling her out of her sleep.

She was having those dreams again. Dreams she assumed to be memories from her past life. The one before the transformation. She decided to record them all in a diary. She hadn't much to do while she was stuck in that bedroom, it felt like a good manner to spend her time.

"Oh my god, now besides spending the day in bed reading Lord Byron, you're also writing a diary?"

"Cassandra," she angered, immediately getting up and grabbing the diary from her sister's hand before she could read anything she wrote. She also kicked the small pile of books on the floor to under the bed. "What are you doing here?"

"Quick and sharp. It's about time you leave the nest, don't you think?"

"This is what I want the most, but mom isn't convinced I'm recovered yet."

"Liar," Cassandra shook her head and smiled sarcastically. "You're loving it and I know."

"Are you jealous she remembered she has another daughter?" Her eyes and ears analyzed the space around her. Alcina was nowhere to be seen or heard. If their mother wasn't around, it could be a good opportunity to sneak out of the bedroom. "Where's mom, by the way?"

"Doing some boring shit in her office. She asked me to keep an eye on you."

"Okay, I'm doing great. Now leave, I'm gonna take a bath."

"Oh, no," her younger sister sat down at the bed with a book. "It's my turn to read something to read for you."

Cassandra began to read some words Bela recognized very well. She added a dramatic tone to her voice.

"When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations, it's not reasonable to grieve when it comes to an end. The hunter smiled in a friendly way as he sauntered forward to kill me."

That was an excerpt from the book Daniela once found among a servant's belongings. The one about a vampire who fell in love with a human.

"Why are you reading this to me?" Bela rolled her eyes. That story was beyond absurd, suggesting vampires glowed in the sunlight. Yet, she wished she had the opportunity of attending school like those vampires were able to. Being weak to the cold was definitely worse than glowing in the sunlight.

"You know why," Cassandra did that judgmental look again. "It didn't work well for mom, it won't work well for you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," enough was enough. Bela went to the bathroom to prepare her bath. She would leave that room and no one would stop her. "And we don't talk about it, remember? You know how upset mom gets everytime she's reminded of her."

"We're not talking about her, we're talking about Aleena."

She froze at the mention of that name. It was surprising how in only a few days, a simple name acquired so much meaning.

"What Aleena has to do with this?"

"She saved your life," her sister followed her into the bathroom. "She could've ran away, saved her own ass, but instead, she came back to rescue you. She fed you her own blood, even knowing you could lose control and kill her. There is something going on and you can't deny it."

"So what?" Bela closed her eyes inside the bathtub, attempting to relax. All those things were true, but in the end, she had failed to protect Aleena. So much the task had been given to her sister. "It wouldn't be the first time a woman becomes infatuated by me. Which is not her case anyways. She's only trying to show how brave and efficient she is."

"You can fool mom and even Daniela, but not me. I know you, sister. Something about you has changed from the moment Aleena entered this castle."

Cassandra was definitely doing that to annoy her. That was one of her favorite hobbies. Bela decided to ignore all that provocation.

"You're wrong. And besides, she'll be gone soon. It doesn't matter."

But it did matter. And that was exactly why Bela was so desperate to leave that bedroom. What if Aleena was already gone when she left the room? What if she couldn't see her at least one last time? What if she ended up being another one of Cassandra's maidens?

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Office - Present Days

A few days had passed since the Lycans' attack to the castle. The heating system had been restored, as well as the windows. The members of the staff proved to be innocent, they were so scared and ambushed as any of us.

Cassandra and Daniela were finally warming up to me. But I hadn't seen Bela yet. Alcina was keeping her locked at her own chambers, not allowing me anywhere near it. Even her own sisters were only allowed to see her that morning.

I was caught by surprise when, after breakfast, Mrs. Volkov came to my room bringing the information Lady Dimitrescu wanted to see me. I hadn't seen her since her return. Her entire time and attention were dedicated to Bela and god-knows-what she did inside that office. Maybe that was the day she decided to end my life. Even if I knew she was immortal, I decided to go prepared. If she couldn't die, maybe my daggers could at least give me some time to run. I was glad to have my amulet with me.

"Sit," she ordered as soon as I entered her office. "We must have a talk."

I obeyed. She closed the door and served us both a cup of tea. I decided to accept it, even if I just had breakfast.

"How's Bela?" I asked.

"Oh Bela... my sweet daughter..." the woman sighed and shook her head as she took a sip of her tea. "She's the most tempestuous of my three daughters, even a small thing can affect her mood."

I had a feeling she was talking more to herself, than to me.

"She's recovering. Her wounds have healed but I still think she looks a bit weak. As you could see, the cold can cause a severe impact on their bodies. Had it been in Winter and my daughter could have..."

She interrupted her sentence. She couldn't pronounce that last word and neither could I. Even if I only knew Bela for a few days, I couldn't stand the idea of losing her. Seeing her looking so sick in my bed still haunted my memories.

"Anyways, this isn't why I called you here," Lady Dimitrescu changed the subject.

"Yes, m'am?" I asked, drinking my own tea. "Have I done anything that goes against our deal?"

She raised her eyebrows at my unexpected question. I could imagine she was used to people being less confident in her presence.

"You did everything against our deal. You've been bumbling around this castle like if you were at some kind of fairytale, you've been messing around with my daughters and you... you saved them."

"I did."

"You could've ran away or even killed them. That was your perfect chance but you chose to save them," I had never seen such a look in the eyes of Lady Dimitrescu before. Only in that moment she seemed like a loving mother, grateful that I made the stupid decision of giving up my freedom for her daughters' lives. "Why?"

"I don't know," I sighed. I really didn't have an answer for that. "Maybe I was just following what my mother taught me, to help anyone in need despite of who they are or what they did. Bela saved me in my first night here, I felt I owed her that."

"She saved you because I ordered her to protect you. I know how Cassandra and Daniela can be. You owed her nothing."

"I also owed you," I added. I had to work on earning her trust, if I wanted my freedom and my life back. "You could have killed me and my brother, but instead you're giving us a chance."

Alcina did everything to hide it, but I could tell my words had caused impact. She appreciated honor and loyalty, and that's what I was showing her.

"What do you want?" She finally asked. "I must give you something in trade for your courage."

I thought for a while. I could ask for my freedom. I could ask for money. I could ask for her to forgive Auryk. But instead, I asked something simple.

"I want to call my brother. I want to know he's well and inform him I'm doing fine. I also want to know about his search of your goblet."

"Okay," she indicated me the phone on her desk. "I'll give you some privacy."

I couldn't believe what just happened, but I dialed Auryk's number as fast as I could. Nothing brought me more relief than hearing his voice on the other side of the line.

"Auryk! That's me," I spoke.

"Leena? Oh my god, I was starting to think you were dead."

"No, actually I've been doing pretty well here. You wouldn't believe it."

"What? How is that even possible?"

"Nevermind," I smiled. "I'll tell you later, in person. So, how's the search for the goblet, speaking of which?"

"I've been following some leads but it seems impossible to trace the buyer. I've also received some information that seems confusing and misleading."

"Why?"

"Aleena, do you believe Miranda would be able to betray her own cult?"

We didn't spoke much after that, but the question remained inside my head. The leads Auryk obtained all lead him to people related to Miranda, her most loyal followers from the village. I also thought about the Super Lycans and how somebody planned to kill the Dimitrescu girls. Only someone with so much power would be able to plan such a thing.

"I need your help," Alcina spoke once she returned to her office. I lied to her, saying my brother was close to find her goblet. "Somebody has betrayed me and I need to know who."

"Okay..." I don't know how I could even help her with that.

"I bet that was him!" She smashed the teacup in her hand furiously, before starting to walk around the office like a maniac. "The pig, the bastard, the motherfucker..."

"Heisenberg?"

"Yes!" She looked at me proudly. As if it was any secret those two hated each other. "But I need proof to show Mother Miranda the rat he is. Otherwise, she would never believe me."

"You need to approach him cautiously," I suggested, "so he won't have any suspicions. Bring him into your territory, where you are in charge and not Miranda. It'll be enough to intimidate him a little. Enough for you to catch any hints of a strange behavior."

Lady Dimitrescu didn't say anything for almost a minute. At first, I thought she had found me extremely stupid for suggesting she should invite her nemesis to the castle, but then, she opened a sly grin.

"Smart girl! You just gave me an amazing idea... I'm throwing a dinner tonight, for Mother Miranda and the other Lords."

"Yes, give him some alcohol too. You know, men and alcohol... it's not a good match."

She laughed. Not sarcastically this time, but sincerely. Then she got up and caressed my chin. Her cold hands made me shiver from head to toes.

"If I knew you were such a good girl, I'd have kidnapped you earlier. Now go, I want you to be there too. I'll ask someone to get you an appropriate dress."

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Ballroom - Present Days

After lunch, Cassandra asked me to show her some of my knife moves. She had been strangely glued to me in the last few days, like a dog guarding its bone. I knew I had promised her we could do a training session any day, but I never imagined she'd take it seriously. I started to wonder if that was a good idea at all.

She picked the ballroom for our training session. Where we'd have plenty of space to move and chase each other. Scary.

"I'm giving you an advantage," she said. "I lowered the room's temperature a bit. I can't transform into flies."

"Good," I grabbed my twin daggers, "not all of us can buzz around."

She rolled her eyes at the pun.

"Oh and I also fed before coming. So in case you get hurt, I won't have problems with my instincts."

"I'm glad to know."

I started by teaching her some basic moves, which bored her a little. Then, we proceeded to a close body combat. I had to admit she was good, even if she didn't have a specific style or technique. But when she fought purely by instinct and impulse, that was a disadvantage. I was able to deflect some of her moves easily.

"Damn," Cassandra panted, a little tired. "You're not so bad. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"By myself, mostly," I swallowed an entire bottle of water. Training with a vampire had consumed all of my energies. "My father didn't believe women should hold weapons."

"Moron."

"And a bastard. That's what he was."

"How did he die?"

"I never found out for real. He was out for one of his travels and apparently he got in a bar fight or something. I can't say he didn't get what he deserved."

I sat down on the floor to get some rest before taking a shower, Cassandra joined me.

"Your mother is throwing a dinner tonight," I spoke. "She wants me to be there. I have to admit I'm kinda nervous."

"Don't worry, it's only an excuse so she and Heisenberg can yell insults at each other. It'll be like any other meeting."

We were in silence for a moment. Cassandra fell pensive but I noticed a smirk on the corner of her mouth.

"I saw her this morning," she commented. "Bela."

"And how is she doing?"

"Quiet, broody, boring... same as usual. I'd say she's completely recovered. Mother is exaggerating, being so overprotective. But it isn't like Bela doesn't like receiving attention and being spoiled."

"She seemed very weak that day."

"Not anymore," she was about to leave the ballroom when she remembered something else. "She asked about you, in case you wanna know."

"Oh," I tried to pretend I wasn't so worried and interested. But I could feel my cheeks burning. "She did?!"

"You're blushing, sweetheart," Cassandra was too smart to leave this unnoticed. "You like her, don't you?"

"It's not like that! I... I care about her, we... have this thing... we kinda saved each other, you know?"

"No, I'd call that 'having a crush'. And I must give one advice, it won't end well for you. You and Bela belong to two different worlds."

"I know that," I assured her. "Trust me, I don't have a crush on your sister. And I won't have. I have another priorities at the moment."

"Good for you."

She laughed sarcastically and leaving me alone in the ballroom with my own thoughts. I didn't have a crush on Bela. I couldn't. She was right, we belonged to different worlds. I was only fascinated by the sensation of danger, the adrenaline she brought to my life. A sensation I never felt before. She was a predator and I was her prey. A real feeling would never exist between us.

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Dining Room - Present Days

Right after I took a bath, Mrs. Volkov knocked on my door bringing a stunning red dress, jewelry and shoes. That was what I was supposed to wear for the night. Never in my entire life, I could be able to afford something so fancy. If it wasn't for the fact Lady Dimitrescu was pondering if I should live or not, I could easily enjoy that life.

"You look amazing," was what Daniela spoke when I met her in the hall. "Come here, let's take a picture."

Taking advantage of the fact her mother had been busy with Bela, she was enjoying her free time to discover the joys of the modern world with me. She revealed me she also had a cell phone. One she stole from one of the maids and assumed to be broken. I explained there was no phone signal where she lived but that she could explore other functions of the device. Since then, she has been recording multiple videos of her daily life and taking pictures with me, Cassandra and even the staff.

Lady Dimitrescu was going to kill me. I raised a monster.

I also found out we shared the same passion for art. She was a very good artist.

"Red is Bela's favorite color, by the way," she told as she tapped her phone screen. Good thing the camera wasn't able to capture me blushing.

I finally saw Bela for the first time in days. She was coming down the stairs just as we took the picture. Dressed in white, she seemed like an angel.

"Aleena," she greeted me with a simple nod.

"Hey," I couldn't help opening a huge smile, "I was starting to get really worried about you."

"I'm fine."

She followed her way to the dining room. I could tell something had changed. I didn't know what though. Was she mad at me or at herself because of the Lycan incident? Was it something her mother said again? The thoughts were consuming me as we placed ourselves around the table.

It was a foolish idea to assume a civilized meeting could happen in that dinner. Lady Dimitrescu and Karl Heisenberg had already started to exchange insults. Daniela said inappropriate things about five times. Cassandra had just threatened a servant with her knife. In my turn, I observed Donna Beneviento and I could quite imagine why she wouldn't speak to those people.

"Mother Miranda," Alcina had finally reached the point where she revealed the true objective of that meeting. "About four days ago, I was called to an emergency at Donna's house. A prized possession of hers has also been stolen. When I returned home, my castle had been vandalized. Someone attempted to murder my daughters by exposing them to the cold air, besides sending Lycans to kill them. And they weren't normal Lycans, they..."

"Were Super Lycans," Daniela interrupted. "Their claws were exactly like my mother's."

There was an awkward silence before Lady Dimitrescu proceeded.

"As I was saying. The Lycans were modified to be stronger."

"Oh please," Heisenberg argued. "Who would bother wasting so much time with you?"

"Those Lycans could only have been created in that gruesome factory of yours."

"Gruesome? Let's talk about gruesome. How many virgins did you sacrifice for this bottle of wine?!"

Oh god. I suddenly didn't feel like drinking anything else for the night. But then, the conversation shifted to another point.

"You're inventing this attack to cover up the fact you let that little thief go and he has stolen from another Lord," Heisenberg accused. "It was more important to you to bring his sister to serve as entertainment for your daughters. Which she must be doing very well, considering she's still alive and sitting among us tonight."

"Hey," I opened my mouth for the first time that night. Suddenly everyone was looking at me. "My brother didn't do it. I called him this morning, he's not even around. He has been searching for Lady Dimitrescu's goblet. And dare you to disrespect me again and I will..."

Nevermind. What could I even do against him? He was immune to my bullets and my daggers.

Cassandra started laughing, while her mother looked at me in a mix of shock and disappointment. Heisenberg continued with his accusations.

"Prove it then. Prove your brother has no involvement in this whole situation. He could have planned the attack as well, to rescue you."

"My brother is human, he has no power to create modified Lycans!"

Mother Miranda cleared her throat, indicating all of us should shut the fuck up. I stared at her figure, remembering my brother's words. She could be the one behind all of that and everyone was blinded by her power.

"I've come to a decision," she spoke. "Heisenberg is right. So far, the only person who could be declared guilty is the Novak boy. Alcina, if I remember correctly, you made the decision of letting him go."

"What about the attack, Mother Miranda?" Lady Dimitrescu was furious, but not surprised at her decision. Miranda seemed to always favor the other Lords over her. "The girl has a point. Such a stupid manthing couldn't have created Lycans and given them more power."

"Do you have proof the attack even happened? I'm sorry, Alcina, but the castle is intact."

"I repaired the damage! It was a risk to my daughters! I have their word as proof, as well as the word of my servants."

Heisenberg started to laugh non-stop, before insulting her again:

"So now you remember you have servants? You always kill each one of them to satiate your thirst for blood."

Lady Dimitrescu couldn't find words to refute that argument. Whether because it was true or because she was being smashed by Miranda and Heisenberg.

"Your son of a bitch!" She punched the table, making everything shake.

"We're all doomed!" Beneviento's creepy doll, started to run across the room, repeating those same words. "Each one of us!"

In that moment, I could finally hear Bela's voice in all of the mess.

"At least one reasonable person in this room," she stood up and started to leave. "Angie is right. We're all doomed."

"Bela," Alcina called, "come back here. We're not finished yet."

But she had enough. And so did I. I didn't think before following her to the main hall.

"Bela," I called her. "Where are you going?"

She stopped, taking a deep breath.

"Somewhere," she said. "Are you coming?"

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Bela's room - Present Days

I swallowed hard when I noticed we were standing in front of Bela's room. She opened the door and invited me inside. I felt my heart thundering inside my chest. It was the first time a woman invited me to her bedroom.

Bela's bedroom was a reflection of herself. Completely organized, perfectly decorated. Daniela was right about her favorite color, some things had shades of red. Such as the curtains and the sheets covering her bed. The walls were decorated with some paintings and a portrait of herself. She also had a small collection of vinyl discs and a telescope near the window.

It had a small study attached, where I could see she had her personal collection of books. That was where she entered and came back seconds later, bringing a bottle of wine and two glasses. Then, she sat down on a sofa, inviting me to join her.

"There's no blood in this one," she spoke. I stared at her, wondering how she even knew. "I can't hear you thoughts. I saw how you put your glass aside when Heisenberg made that comment."

Good. That was probably something good to know. Bela couldn't see the mess inside my head. She was merely an observant woman who could read people very easily. I smiled in response. I was too nervous to show any other reaction.

"I just can't stand all that arguing, all that yelling," Bela drank her entire glass in one sip. Then, she stood up and went to the window. I followed her.

"It's a beautiful night," I commented, pointing to her telescope. "Do you like to watch the stars?"

"Yes and it's the only way I can do it."

"So you can never leave the castle, at all?"

"Sometimes, during Spring and Summer," she sighed melancholic. "Days when the temperature is higher than usual. This year hasn't been kind to us so far. Or the last one."

Never being able to go outside should be a torture. Now I could understand why sometimes she seemed so moody and upset.

"Summer has just begun," I told. "Maybe you can get some luck in the next few weeks."

"I hope so."

She went back to the other side of the room, serving herself another glass of wine. I hadn't finished mine yet.

"What do you think?" She returned to my side and asked. "About the attack. Do you think your brother is fooling you?"

"No, no way. Auryk never lied to me before, I know he's telling the truth."

I knew Heisenberg accusations would cause me trouble. Especially with Miranda siding with him.

"Lying is different from having secrets," Bela said. "Don't you have anything you hide, even from your brother? Something no one knows, but yourself?"

I did. I never told Auryk about the night I spent with Gustav, where I wasn't able to lose my virginity to him. I also didn't feel like telling him about my days in the castle this morning. I knew he'd judge me, in both cases.

"I do, but..."

She let out a small laugh.

"Oh Aleena," she traced the border of her glass with her perfectly manicured finger, "you act so strong and tough but deep down you're so naive."

"What do you mean?" I wanted to know.

"You should've ran away during the attack."

"I wouldn't let you die."

"Why?" Bela was staring deeply inside my eyes. In a manner I was feeling completely exposed, uncomfortable. "Do you know how many people I've killed? Or how many women I seduced only to drink their blood? It's not like I deserved to be saved."

"It doesn't matter," I didn't have a right answer for her question. "It felt right. You saved me in my first night here."

"Only because my mother ordered me and I try so hard to be a good daughter for her. But I failed, right? Now Cassandra has been taking care of you."

"Is she? I mean, I noticed she has been kinda glued to me lately but... sorry, I don't believe she'd save me if she had to."

"No, she wouldn't. She'd take advantage of the opportunity to get you killed and feed from your blood. My sister is more reckless than I am."

"You're different."

"I'm not. I'm just more careful with my actions," she placed a hand on my chest, feeling my heart beating fast. She shook her head in denial. "How do you know I'm not playing with you? How do you know you won't have the same fate as those five teenagers from your village, three years ago?"

"I... I..." deep down, I always knew Bela had an involvement in that situation. But now hearing a confession was totally different. Yet, I didn't feel afraid.

"How can you trust me? We've only met for a few days and here you are, standing in my bedroom where I could kill you and no one would even hear you scream."

"You wouldn't do that," it was my turn to face her, to look deeply into her eyes. I placed my hand over hers. "I know."

"I'm a monster, Aleena. All the stories you've ever heard about me? They're all true."

I don't care. I don't care. I'd still save you if I had to. I wanted to scream those words, but they wouldn't come out.

"You need to stay away from me," she removed her hand from my touch.

"Why?" I asked. "Tell me. Be honest. Who are you trying to convince with all of this? Me or yourself?"

"Just go, Aleena," she turned her back on me. "Just go."

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Library - Present Days

I couldn't get any sleep. I'd just keep rolling in bed, without being able to find a position. What did Bela mean with that conversation? Was she assuming I was in love with her or something? I wasn't stupid like the other women she was used to seduce. I knew better than that. She had absolutely no right to throw all her frustration and anger at me. I wasn't her mother. I wasn't Heisenberg or Miranda.

I grabbed my sketch book and walked to the library. That castle was even creepier when it was dark and silent. It was almost like you could hear the laments of the people who had been tortured and killed within those walls. I remembered the five teenagers from the village. My mind tried to picture how they were lured into the castle and who killed each one of them. I could see myself in the place of one of those girls and the only thing I could imagine was if they were in Bela's bed when they were killed. I imagined the things she did to them. I tried to feel scared but instead my heart would start racing all over again. I tried to ignore those thoughts, but I locked the door anyways.

I had to relax somehow. I sat down at the desk and attempted to find any inspiration. I started working on a piece that represented Mother Miranda, the Four Lords and all the mystery surrounding those people.

I heard the door opening, I quickly pulled a dagger from my ankle. I could sense a presence approaching me. I was ready to attack, when the low light of the lamp revealed who it was.

"Oh, I didn't know you were here," Bela spoke.

"I was about to leave," I grabbed my sketch book from the desk. When I turned around, she was standing very close to me. We were face to face now, even closer than we were earlier in her bedroom. Her eyes were different though. Before, she looked angry and upset. Now she just seemed sad. "Good night."

"You can stay, if you want. I shouldn't be here anyways."

"No, it's your castle and your library. I'm leaving. Also, I'm retuning your key."

I extended her my palm, handing her the key I was holding.

"Don't be ridiculous," she closed my hand again. "You're my mother's guest."

"Prisoner," I cleared my throat and corrected. Bela let out a small, ironic laugh in response.

"Well, you had the chance of running away. You wasted it, darling."

And we were back to 'darling'. The same 'darling' from the beginning, when she was still deciding if I should be her prey or not. From when she didn't even know my name.

"It wasn't a waste. Not when I was saving your life."

"You shouldn't have saved! I made a mistake, I should be the one to fix it or face the consequences."

"Oh my god, is it all because you were in danger? Because you lost control of the situation? You don't need to be perfect all the time, Bela. It's okay to fail."

"Not everyone is like you, Aleena. For you, it's just natural. You are perfect at everything you do. You can always fix everything that is wrong. You can always use the situation in your favor. You're always pleasing everyone, even my mom!"

My hands started to shake in anger. She knew nothing. I was far from perfect and my abusive father knew very well how to expose my flaws, my failure. For Adrian, being perfect was the only acceptable option. Otherwise, he'd beat us. He'd punish us. Yet, I didn't torture myself for that. Especially after his death. I was about to shout it at her face, when I dropped my sketch book.

I kneeled down, collecting all the spread papers on the floor and shoving them back into my sketch book. When I stood up, Bela was holding one of them.

"Why were you drawing me?" She asked, analyzing my work carefully. I froze.

"I... I..." I had no excuses this time, except for the truth. "I wanted something to remember when I'm gone."

"You shouldn't, Aleena. You should forget it as soon as you leave through the front door. Nothing in this place is worth being remembered."

"You are!" I finally said it. "What if I don't want it, huh?! What if I don't want to forget you?!"

She was in silence for a moment. Then, she closed her eyes as if she was trying to process what she heard and what she would do next.

"Then, I better give you something better than a portrait."

She grabbed my face, pulling me closer to her. There wasn't any more distance between us, I was pressed between her body and the desk. I couldn't move, not even if I wanted to.

Bela's kiss was like every other of her actions. Calculated, planned. She wanted to make sure she'd be in control of it. She wanted nothing but perfection.

She started it very slowly and shy, as if she was trying to figure out the territory first. Her lips softly brushed mine at first, like if she was asking for my permission to go forward. I retributed, pressing my lips harder against hers. I wrapped my arm around her neck, bringing her even closer. I wanted to show how much I desired her, I desired that kiss.

She gently parted my lips with her tongue, finding her way into my mouth. Her tongue gently stroke mine, raising shivers all over my body. I stroked hers back and I could feel her pulse accelerating too.

I don't know for how long we kissed. Minutes, probably. I didn't want to stop. Never.

"Now," I smiled against her mouth when we parted, "that was perfect."

"Shhhh," she whispered, opening a huge grin, "shut up, love. We're only getting started."

Our second kiss was different from the first. It was more desperate. More intense. More passionate. We were both confessing how much we had been longing for that. Then we kissed for a third time. And a fourth. Then I lost count.

All I know is that I spent the night in the library, making out with Bela Dimitrescu.

#resident evil village #residesnt evil 8 #bela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #bela x f!oc #bela x oc #resident evil fanfiction #the devil in i

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aspectedstar · 3 years

Text

[Info updated as of Patch 5.55]

Name: Listelle Viyrel

Unsundered Name: Ephine

Gender: Female

Age: 21 in ARR, 26 in EW

Race: Raen Au Ra

Relationship: Official with an untempered Elidibus, but still lowkey that not a lot of people know of their status.

Family: Biological family is unknown. Her adoptive Miqo'te parents she keeps in contact with. The Scions of the Seventh Dawn and Elidibus are her main sources of 'support' these days.

Orientation: Bisexual / Demisexual

Nameday: 16th Sun of the 4th Umbral Moon [August 16th]

Abilities/Talents: Archery, Botany, Cooking, Able to speak multiple languages [thanks Echo], Healing, Reading.

Job: Former conjurer turned White Mage; Archer/Bard; Adventurer; A Scion of the Seventh Dawn; Botanist whenever help is needed.

Appearance description: A pale-skinned Raen Au Ra that stands at 4 fulms and 9 ilms. Listelle has dark blue, shoulder-length hair with bangs that naturally curls at the ends. Black highlights are added into the mix and always reapplied whenever they start to fade. Sometimes, puts up her hair in high side-ponytail that has a braid embedded around the back of her head. Has side bangs that hang from her face with this hairstyle as well. She has heterochromia eyes with her left being a pale blue, while her right is a bright purple. Listelle is slightly muscular, but also petite. Her body has vanilla scales peppering her body here and there. Mostly can be seen on her face; Her horns a slightly curled, but go backwards only a bit from her face. The tail she has a few spikes here and there, but it's thin. Mostly spiking at the end of it. Usually wearing a pair of reading glasses, because her eyesight isn't 100%.

Unique features (scars, tattoos, etc.): Multiple scars across her body from battles over the years. The biggest one was from the first meeting with Zenos, where he ended up nailing her in the abdomen badly. The scar is a jagged line in sideways line that covers a good portion of her middle to lower back. Listelle is very self-conscious about this particular one; Doesn't like wearing gear that shows off that part of her body.

Personal Beliefs (religious or otherwise): Fully believed in the Mothercrystal and the Twelve, but has changed since the events of SB into ShB. Mostly because of what Elidibus and Emet-Selch had told her. Still believes in a sense of one's wrongdoing will bite them in the ass later in life.

Residence: Medium house plot on the beach in Shirogane, Hingashi. Amaurot on the First.

Birthplace: Somewhere in the Black Shroud.

Dreams: When the world is done being saved, which is almost never; Wanting to have a peaceful life with Elidibus as much as possible; Hoping that one day more White Mages can be sanctioned by the Padaji; Maybe one day have children, but that's not as important.

Fears: Dying when the world needs her the most; Seeing close friends and family die in front of her again and again; Injured to the point she can't fulfill her duties as Warrior of Light; Losing any of her senses.

Introverted / Extroverted / Ambiverted (bold what applies)

How do they handle stress?: When in front of people, she tries her best not to show she's bothered. There are ways for others to know she's about to hit her limit. Listelle is known to pace around a room, fidget with her hands, and get teary-eyed, but the latter is hard to see. Only ways she can combat it is behind closed doors, or out in the wilderness when no one is around. Going out into nature to find plants or hit trees with her axe is one way. Another way is to basically beat her frustrations out in cooking or baking foodstuffs. Resting under trees when only one can hear naturalistic sounds.

What’s the state of their living quarters? (messy, clean, etc.): That depends. Usually, it's a disorganized mess. Much to Elidibus's dismay, she can usually find things easier than him. If he ever tried to clean her home, she'd yell at him on not being able to find anything. It's not completely trashed, but enough to know someone lives here. As the Warrior of Light, she doesn't get enough time to do homely chores. So, it's mostly left go for weeks at a time.

How do they handle meeting new people?: Listelle usually is kind and friendly to people she meets. Though, it depends overall on the new person (or group)'s attitude, body language, voice tone, and facial expressions. If they come off rude and negative, she is more reluctant to be as nice back. However, since she is not the diplomatic person, she usually leaves all the table-talking to her fellow Scions. Will chime in with a few words, if asked. It all depends on the situation and people involved.

When facing certain doom, what’s their outlook?: It's...questionable. Try to keep a stoic facade, but inside she would be screaming. Or, she'd probably look at like this: Why not going out with a huge bang of glory, and take her foe(s) with her? As a healer, she understands death, but is afraid to die at the wrong time. Regardless, she will tackle it the best she can.

What do they do to relax?: Reading any books she has in her shelves. Have Elidibus tell her stories of the world before it was Sundered. Cooking and baking when she has the time. Gardening, when she has time, yet again. Sitting under trees listening to nature. Go to the beach when no one is around. Stargazing with Elidibus at night.

What’s their favorite outfit?: Her 'civilian' clothes with the Azem constellation crystal as a necklace pictured blow.

Traumas: It's been several over the last few years of becoming the Warrior of Light. From being a healer, she has had a hard time accepting she can't save everyone. The loss of Haurchefant hit her physically hard. He saw Listelle as herself, not just the 'hero' or a weapon to be used by the city-states. Still goes to visit his grave in Coerthas when she can. Seeing the turmoil Garlemald had done to Ala Mhigo and Doma's regions. Zenos yae Galvus, because he reminds her of herself at certain times. How they can relate, as much as the Raen wishes not to admit it. The entire events of Shadowbringers with fighting for another world to holding in the light corruption. Her aether is still a mess, even after Ardbert had joined his soul with hers. Ending Emet-Selch's life, even when she understood his plight and ideals. Having to fight and kill Elidibus; The ONE PERSON that understood and had true affection for her. Yet, he was tempered by Zodiark, so they were forced into battle. It still haunts her to this day that she may lose Elidibus forever.

About them as of current story patch: As of Patch 5.5, Listelle is struggling on what to make of seeing that being surrounded in light. Being told the Final Days is coming--which is no doubt with Fandaniel and Zenos--and the entire world is on her shoulders. This is stressing her out to no end, even with Elidibus trying to keep her calm. He is her main anchor to keep her grounded currently. With the possibility of going to Sharlayan, she is not happy. Possibly having to keep the untempered Ascian unseen, depending. For now, she is stressed and pacing about what to do.

History: Listelle was found outside the doors of a Miqo'te couple living in the Black Shroud. Only a single note saying: "I cannot care for her; I'm possibly dead by the time you read this. Her name is Listelle; Please raise her well". The baby was an Au Ra Raen female, but they had no idea if there was such a family nearby. Living mostly in an isolated area, they didn't get many visitors. Just some adventurers, botanists, conjurers, or miners that came through the area. Despite this, they willingly took the baby in. They had issues trying to concieve their own child, so Listelle would fill the void. The void of trying to have a child, which they had now.

The Raen would come to know her parents as Sizha Vebei, her mother, and Rehzih'li Vebei, her father. They lived in a small cabin in the Southern part of the Shroud. Away from settlements like Camp Tranquil and Quarrymill, they kept to themselves for the most part. They raised their adoptive child as good as any adoptive parents could. With the times that Rehzih'li would go to Gridania for work and supplies, he would ask around about Listelle's family. He usually came up empty handed as per usual. This went on for years, until the Seventh Umbral Calamity hit Eorzea.

Listelle was 16 summers old when Bahamut broke free of Dalamud to reign terror from the heavens. The Black Shroud went up in flames in several areas. Thankfully, herself and her parents survived, but lost their home to the flames. The family was devastated, but then they decided to move on to a battered up Gridania as other refugees. They would have to make a new life within the city-state.

To the five years leading up to ARR, Listelle practiced conjury within the Stillglade Fane. Her parents had taken up other odd jobs to support themselves and their daughter, so Listelle had decided to do the same. With people becoming adventurers, the Raen decided to do the same. With her aetherpool higher than most, she fit right in with the Conjurers' Guild. Even with weird looks, the Au Ra flourished under their guidance and care. She would learn how to properly harness healing magics, as well as learn to borrow from the very Elementals of the Twelveswood.

Eventually, Listelle would become more involved with restoration efforts to help Gridania. Only her efforts would soon become widespread. Widespread enough for a certain organization to recruit her to their cause..

Feelings towards others: (add or remove as relevant)

- Elidibus – Her official partner, who she had a rocky relationship for years. However, it changed much after his defeat by her hand on top of the Crystal Tower in the First. She loves the Ascian dearly and would do anything for him. He had been there as well for her during some stressful times, despite him being under Zodiark's influence. They confide in each other constantly, and is a major support pillar for Listelle.

- Emet-Selch [Hades] – Despite their brief interactions, Listelle came to understand more about the Ascians. Even if it was a hard pill to swallow, the brief details Elidibus mentioned to her started to make sense. Like pieces to the puzzle was finally coming together. She would indulge and ask him a lot of the Ascians' history, the Old World, and the like. As much as her comrades didn't like their Warrior of Light conversating with their worst enemy, she ignored them...sometimes. She was upset to end his life when they couldn't come to some sort of understanding. She still has sobbing fits over Hades' demises, because of the fact of the Azem constellation crystal she has. It was even hinted that he knew of something going on between her and the Emissary at the time. Listelle always denied it, but there was a twinkle in those golden eyes that he knew of something.

- Feo Ul - As much as Listelle appreciates them, she can't deal with their sudden mood swings. The Fae being the Fae, she can't understand the times she gets yelled at for not summoning them. Being called cruel and heartless by Feo Ul made her uneasy around the pixie. Just over the course of the Shadowbringers, she saw the good in the King of Faeries. They became the next Titania, yet, they still treated Listelle as their most precious mortal. After all, they WERE connected by a pact! Feo Ul was another pillar during her struggle to contain the light corruption within her. The constant affection and support helped keep the heroine to move forward.

- Alphinaud – Meeting him the first time made her want to rethink her choices. However, with his constant presence helping her with 'official talks', she has been grateful for him. He has come a long way and has grown. Listelle hates meetings, and groans anytime Alphinaud tells her she has to go. Because she is the hero, she has to go, despite her wild protests.

- Alisaie – It took a bit for them to grow on one another. Alisaie understands when Listelle has her moments. Moments she wants to hide, but also treats the Raen like an actual person. Not just the hero, not just the Warrior of Light. Listelle finds herself getting teased when Alisaie fawns over her, depending if she's down or upset about something. Mostly by Y'shtola though.

- Y'shtola – Their relationship is...weird at best. Y'shtola and herself have their moments when they get into arguments. However, she knows the Miqo'te woman wants the best for her. During the events of Shadowbringers, she was worried over Listelle's state of taking in the Lightwardens' corrupted aether. Y'shtola and Ryne were there for her as they journeyed to Emet-Selch's domain. Full of Light, the heroine had a hard time doing basic tasks at times. Due to this, Listelle appreciates her. Just doesn't like when she teases her about Alisaie and G'raha's constant admiration of her.

- Thancred – Saw him as a flirtatious man who she didn't want to deal with at all. He even made comments about her 'beauty' on several occasions to get under her skin. However, as the years went by, she began to learn he was a lot more. Mostly learned this during her time on the First with the others and Ryne. Just the interactions between him and Ryne made her heart ache for them both. Including when they had to go back to the Source.

- Urianger – This Elezen made her want to rip her hair out most of the time. Just the way he spoke, his mannerisms made her so confused. Had to get the other Scions to repeat what he said to her many, many times. Still not fond of his secrecy behind her back on the few times. However, she does understand it's a necessary evil, yet she hasn't completely forgiven him yet. Though, she does appreciate any vital information he can provide her.

- Tataru - Oh sweet Tataru...Listelle loves the receptionist to death. Another person who treats her like she's a normal person. However, how she manages to get things done makes Listelle double think herself. Like the time the Lalafell wanted her precise measurements to get her outfits made. Just the way Tataru brings up results is quite...scary. The heroine watches herself whenever she's around the Lalafell woman.

- Minfilia - The first person to understand she had the power of the Echo. All those years of not understanding random visions she had when she was a child. She learned more from Minfilia over the course of the years. Only to be upset when she disappeared, then find out she was connected to Hydaelyn. She looked up the Hyur and she still misses her from time to time.

- Papalymo - The duo of 'Yda' and Papalymo made her giggle at times. There were times she didn't quite understand the relationship between the two. She got along with the Lalafell fine. That is, until he sacrificed himself to contain the newly born primal at Baelsar's Wall. She wanted to stay behind and help him, but alas, was forced to flee with the others. She still thinks about him from time to time, hoping he's watching over them from afar.

- Lyse - Wasn't sure how to feel about her until after the whole incident at Baelsar's Wall. She had come to understand Lyse as someone who wanted to fight for her homeland. As they journeyed over Gyr Abania and Othard, she had come to see the woman in a new light. With how she handles matters in Ala Mhigo with Raubhan at her side, she hopes the city-state flourishes under their care.

- Gaius – Rivalry since taking on the Ultima Weapon. However, with tackling the Weapon Project, she put aside her dislike for him. In order to stop these machines of death, she would work alongside him. Listelle began to see him in a new light as the Weapons consumed most of the orphans he saved back then. With only Allie left and the Weapons done with, she hopes Gaius can find some sort of peace.

- Nero – Despite him working at the Garlond Ironworks now, she still finds him quite annoying. Though, she has to admit he has helped her on several occasions when Cid couldn't. So, she'd tolerate the man at best.

- Cid – Thankfully to the Garlean many times over. With his few interventions to save her from certain doom, to helping her take down Omega. The accomplishments and shit they've seen and done is enough for a novel or two....or several. She gets along with him fairly well.

- Haurchefant – The Elezen man from House Fortemps and Camp Dragonhead. It was no wonder the silver-haired male admired her from the start. Even wanting to rush in to stop her from taking on Shiva. Never do anything reckless again! He had said to her, which she had meekly agreed to. When fleeing from the bloody Ul'dah banquet, he was a pillar of strength during that time. With most of the Scions gone, she blamed herself for their loss. Alas, Haurchefant wouldn't have none of it. Always cheering her up with hot chocolate and word of encouragement. However, when he died in her arms saving her from a pillar of light...Listelle was devastated. She was depressed for a long time, and still is when she thinks about it. Still blames herself for his death, even if he wanted her to smile. "A smile better suits a hero"; A statement she won't forget easily.

- Aymeric – The first meeting with him..she wasn't impressed. She had heard Ishgardians were uptight and unwelcoming. As much as he sounded polite, she didn't trust him off the bat. However, as time went on, she began to realize he was much more than. Even inviting her to a dinner after Nidhogg's defeat, which she enjoyed. Just his question about what she wanted for herself? She knew not the answer to that at the time. Regardless, the Raen goes to visit him when she can.

- Estinien – This dragoon is so stiff was Listelle's first thought. She didn't exactly like him off the bat. However, the journey across Dravania opened him up to her. She did try her best to understand him, but it was hard. As the years went by, she had come to know he had paid respects to Yysale, which she appreciates. Even the time when she collapsed in the Ghimlyt Dark, trying to persuade Zenos/Elidibus to stop this madness. Estinien had rescued her, which opened her up to that he was more good than she thought. Now with him joining the Scions, more opportunities to know him better have opened.

- G’raha – Annoying scholar to deal with when looking for the damn aethersand. Made it a game, then she promptly yelled at him for making her run around more than she had to. Investigating the Crystal Tower together, she did appreciate his work. When he locked himself away in the tower, she was a bit sad to see him go. Listelle did understand why he had to do it though. During the events of Shadowbringers, she had her suspicions on who the Crystal Exarch was. She couldn't completely confirm who it was, until she was being consumed by Light Corruption. Despite all this, she scolded him greatly after winning the fight against Emet-Selch. She knew he had a deep admiration for her, but only saw him as a friend. Regardless, their friendship is still healthy and blossoming.

- Other Warrior of Lights - Appreciates their hard work and resilience to keep the fight going. No matter what, as long as there is a light, they can still prevail.

[Character sheet made by @lizzy-dotharl. Template taken from @earthlystar.]

#ffxiv #ffxiv oc #original character #character sheet #listelle viyrel #oc: the blood lily

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