#the braids + the flowers and even the COLOURS- it's so on point
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I FOUND THIS PIC IN PINTEREST AND OMG, THIS IS LITERALLY BRYSTAL'S HAIRSTYLE?
#the braids + the flowers and even the COLOURS- it's so on point#im missing her#brystal lynn evergreen COME BACK#a tale of magic#a tale of witchcraft#a tale of sorcery#brystal evergreen#brystal lynn evergreen#chris colfer
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something holy
lucy gray baird x female reader
Lucy Gray Baird has had you under her spell the entire time you’ve known her. She’s a creature not of this world, something gorgeous, something holy.
3k words, fluff, mild angst
Lucy Gray Baird is the sweetest girl you know.
You’ve known her for a while, now, but you’ve known of her for even longer. You’ve only ever lived in District Twelve, a Seam girl born and bred, but you remember more vividly than anything that colourful day the Covey were rounded up and forced to settle in your home. Even then, you felt a draw to them. Sure, everyone was intrigued by them, even more so once they stepped into the spotlight and made a name for themselves. You knew you weren’t special, you were one of many in a crowd of admirers, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to know them. You wanted to know the dark-haired girl your age, who you’d occasionally glimpse through a crowd or across a plaza. This hunger, barely sated by scraps of fleeting encounters across the span of years, would only grow with age.
Twelve is the district furthest from the Capitol, and it’s the most neglected, to be blunt — it still has the lowest Peacekeeper to population ratio in the entirety of Panem. A blessing in disguise, you consider it, but it often renders the Seam a relatively lawless place. When the Covey arrived, the best part of a decade ago, it was even worse. The Covey kids were never forced to attend Capitol-mandated schooling in the way that the rest of the Seam kids were because they weren’t really Twelve. They didn’t really didn’t bother anyone, for the most part, and so long as that remained the case there were more important rules to be enforced elsewhere.
For the first few years of their inhabiting a crumbling little red-brick cottage at the edge of the Seam, overlooking the woods, the Covey were like daylight ghosts around town. They wove flowers into each other’s braids every morning, wore long billowy clothes even in the coldest winter snow and communicated more through melody, or strange noises, than they did words. (For a good few years of your childhood, you’d stumble down to their ends of town once a week to offer clumsy good-wish bundles of flowers and herbs, and even ribbons when you could get your hands on them. You’d be met with wide smiles or hummed tunes or, towards the end of this practice, even a beamed thank you, sweetness from Lucy Gray herself, but nothing more, and so eventually you stopped.)
At night, though, they were ghosts no longer; they’d come alive, lighting up the whole Hob with foot-stomping tavern thrashers. As you grew older, more capable, and still more captivated by them, you found yourself more and more often in attendance. That’s how you ended up meeting her; a fight broke out in the pit one night. You were close to the stage as could be, how you were whenever you got the chance, and in a whirlwind of movement and noise you found yourself caught up in the conflict. A pitcher of ale ended up being emptied onto you and you yelped as the lukewarm amber seeped into your dress, whilst its former owner cursed the loss of his drink and angrily swung the empty pitcher at the head of the whoever knocked him into you. The music halted as chaos ensued, and you scrambled to escape.
“Alright, y’all, that’s enough,” said a forceful voice from the stage, a voice you’d recognise anywhere. “You want to fight, you can go outside t’do it, I hear there’s a hell of an audience in uniform out there too.”
Billy Taupe, by this point the size of a man with the broad shoulders to show for it, set down his accordion and leapt down from the stage, forcefully breaking up the conflict, with the lean Tam Amber quick to follow. You were practically swept up onto the stage, and in an effort to de-escalate Lucy Gray reached out her hands to lift you up and into safety. She was stronger than she looked, and you marvelled at the moment, surely gaping like a fool.
“Learn to behave, folks,” she playfully chastised the crowd as Billy Taupe and Tam Amber wrestled two men out the door. You stood stiff as a board beside her, still dripping head to toe. “I’m’na give you ten, and when I get back y’all better have sorted yourselves, alright?” She jabbed a finger playfully at no one in particular before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and guiding you backstage, Maude Ivory and Barb Azure hot on your heels.
“Are you alright, sweetheart?” she asked you the moment you were out the crowd’s earshot, “we been watching that whole thing —”
“— they nasty out there tonight,” chimed in Maude Ivory.
“— sure we got an old dress o’ Lucy Gray’s milling around somewhere, get you outta that thing,” Barb Azure offered kindly.
“— come here, into the light, poor thing, are you hurt? Let me see it,” Lucy Gray fretted. Seeing your features properly for the first time under the flickering of the oil fixture on the wall, she paused. “I know you.”
“I been here before,” you offered, finally summoning the courage to speak.
“No,” Lucy Gray mused, “you… you done used to bring us flowers, didn’t you?”
You froze, flushing. “Guess I did. Didn’t think you’d remember.”
“Aw hey now, I’d never forget a pretty thing like you,” she scolded you. Your cheeks burned with colour the same shade as her lips. “Why’d you ever stop? We used t’love your visits.”
“She ain’t kidding,” added Barb Azure, eyes twinkling, “Lu would doll up real early on Sundays and wait around for you.”
“Oh, shut it, you big grass,” Lucy Gray muttered, dark eyes never leaving your face. Your breath caught in your throat. “Look, we ain’t sending you back out there. How’s about we’ll find you somethin’ to change into and you’ll sit pretty with us, alright, sweet thing? What’s your name, baby?”
After that night, she kept finding reasons to be near you. Despite the draw you felt to the Covey you were scared stiff of bothering them. You’d rather die than cause them any trouble. But you and Lucy Gray, and then the whole Covey, fell into a close friendship so quickly you couldn’t help but wonder if that feeling was mutual. For a while they would tentatively invite you to picnics at the lake or bonfires in their back garden, but once they found out you could play the pan flute you were as good as one of them.
Lucy Gray began to consume your every waking thought. Lucy Gray, Lucy Gray, Lucy Gray. It’s been the same old for a good few years now. You spend every moment you can with her, whether that’s taming snakes or catching butterflies or whispering to each other late at night. She’s hardened like brandy and fiery inside, and you preen hopelessly under the light she casts on you. Lucy Gray Baird is what makes the world go round.
Yeah, she’s the sweetest girl you know. And, unbeknownst to you, she’s sweeter than ever on you.
The Covey are a superstitious people. There’s nothing they’ll heed more attentively than the whisper of fate. Lucy Gray doesn’t remember much from her childhood pre-Twelve, but she remembers when her momma would try to teach her how to see future in the way that the earth breathed. She knows to pay heed to the shape that the tea leaves at the bottom of her mug take, and where the first drop of rain falls. Everything, everything, including her heart, pushes her to you. She’s sure of it. It’s something bigger than her that connects the two of you, something cosmic, something holy. She’ll count bluebells on her walk to you — she loves me, she loves me not — and take note of the birds in the sky. She spells out love confessions to you in the chords of her guitar. She whispers poems into your morning tea before she brings it to you, careful hands cradling a mug full of love.
She knows it’s the string of fate that’s drawn her in to you. Why, why else would her family end up in Twelve?
Barb Azure teases her endlessly for the affections she harbours, and Lucy Gray will swat away her cousin with flaming cheeks and hiss half-baked threats but she’ll never deny it. There’s no denying it. There’s no denying the love she has for you, more certain than anything. She knows she loves you like she knows that the sun smiles in the sky. She’ll do anything to be around you.
“What’re you gonna do about it?” Barb Azure asks her casually one warm summer’s evening. The two are side by side in the little stone kitchen of the Covey cottage, occasionally brushing elbows as they chop vegetables in unison. It’s a comforting touch, domestic, homely. Golden-pink sun streams in through the mottled windows, and Lucy Gray basks in it like a snake. The back door is pinned open so that the children, and the strange shaggy dog Clerk Carmine’s brought home, and Maude Ivory’s goat can all trot in and out as they please. In the distance, she can see you all playing, wrestling, giggling freely, hear CC’s shrieking melodious laughter. Lucy Gray’s so at peace in this moment that she forgets she’s been asked a question.
Barb Azure’s bare foot nudges her shin gently. “Lu. What’ll you do? ‘Bout her?”
She shrugs. “Same thing I’ve always done. Keep on loving her, and take what I can get.” She seems perfectly at peace with it, and Barb Azure sighs.
“You’ll get a whole lot more if you tell her how you feel,” she chastises.
“Why, and ruin a perfectly good thing?” Lucy Gray retorts, elusive, half-mirthful, a twinkle in her eye but a weight to her words. “No, I don’t think I will, Barb Azure.”
“Aw, hold your tongue now,” Barb Azure grumbles, “cause it’ll be this old dog who’s wipin’ your tears when the belle finds someone else.” She nudges Lucy Gray good-naturedly before moving over to the stove, but Lucy Gray stays frozen, blood running cold. She hasn’t even thought of that, but it’s true, you could find someone else. Who, she wonders? What kind of person would you go for? You’ve been one of the Covey for years, you eat here and sleep here and make music with them and the rest of it, and you don’t really talk to anyone else. Would you go for one of the boys? Tam Amber, or Billy Taupe? The thought of anyone else all up on you like that makes her shiver. She can live with never being able to have you, she’s done it this far, but she’s not sure she’d handle it if someone else could.
The thought weighs heavy on her mind, and she’s quiet for the rest of the night.
It’s only a handful of days after that you’re out gathering berries with some of the others. Lucy Gray comes with for a while, but she’s not really there, she’s not herself, and after finding a few wild apricots she feebly murmurs about going home to pit them. You watch with concern but she’s gone before you can say otherwise, walking off with her head lowered, and you decide to respect her wish to be alone.
You try to ignore the loss of her at your side as you laugh and joke with the others. You never feel content when you’re not with her, though — she’s the only one who can soothe your temples and still your thoughts.
“You okay, Y/N? You been starin’ at that bush for the better part o’ four minutes,” grins Tam Amber.
“Nay, she’s just mopin’. Gets all moony when she’s away from her Lu,” CC butts in, before tossing a blackberry into the air and catching it in his mouth.
“My Lu?” you ask, caught off guard.
“Well, yeah. So much pinin’ you could build your own forest.”
“I ain’t— I don’t pine for no one,” you tell him shakily.
He just shrugs. “Coulda fooled me. You been lookin at Lucy Gray like she hung the stars in the sky since day one.”
You frown, mulling his words over. Is that true? You love Lucy Gray, more than anything, but it’s never really occurred to you that your love for her could be like that. Sure, she’s the prettiest girl you’ve ever met, you’d do anything for her. She’s so kind, so gentle and sweet, but she’s so quick and so fiery. She has a fierce wit to her that’ll send you rolling and reeling in equal measures. She’s always, always on your mind. Sure, your mind goes straight to her when you hear a love song, but— oh no.
“I think you broke her,” Billy Taupe observes.
“I’m, uhm,” you feel your palms grow clammy as you’re overwhelmed with the need for a moment to yourself, “I’ll head back home, and— and start sorting through this,” you look down at your half-filled basket and begin to hurry away. No one stops you, but you feel eyes on you long after you’ve rounded the corner.
You’re a mess. Your hands are shaking, your eyes blurry, your mind spinning as you grapple with this newfound information. You’re in love with Lucy Gray. It’s so obvious that the kids have clocked it before you. God, you’re so stupid. Of course friends don’t love each other like this. You don’t feel this way about Barb Azure or Tam Amber. This could ruin everything, if you ever let it escape you. No, you determine resolutely, you are not going to ruin the only family you’ve ever had. Having Lucy Gray in your life at all is something so impossibly holy that you refuse point blank to risk ever losing it. You will not lose the Covey. You’ll take this to the grave.
Your feet have carried you home before you know it, and you stumble into the kitchen, panting. There are tears streaming down your face, you realise, and you shakily wipe them away only for more to appear.
“Y/N?” says a soft voice at the door, one you love more than anything, and you look up to see the girl you’re agonising about. Annoyingly, you want nothing more than to crawl into her arms. “Hey, baby, you okay?”
“M’fine,” you murmur, hastily brushing away more tears, but she’s stepping towards you with outstretched arms, and then you’re in them and you’re safe.
“Shhh, sh sh sh,” she soothes you, guiding you into the room you share with her, running her fingers through your hair. “What is it, sweet girl, what’s bothering you?”
“It really is stupid,” you tell her thickly. “CC said something, I guess it freaked me out, ‘n got to me a bit.”
Lucy Gray lets out a surprised little laugh and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. “And why’re you givin’ a shit about what he’s got to say, huh? Clerk Carmine’s a twelve year old boy. Can’t get more insensitive than that.”
You nod tearfully, gratefully accepting the comfort of her pressing her forehead to yours and toying with your fingers.
“What’s he said to get you all wound up, baby?” she asks you. You hesitate, reddening, and look away.
“Really was stupid,” you mumble.
“You can tell me,” she promises, eyes dark and soft. You bite your lip.
“Just… that I treat you different to the others, I guess,” you admit, words flowing like butter. She could get anything out of you. Lucy Gray stiffens a little in surprise. “Or like, I love you different.”
“Yeah? How’d you mean?” Her words are soft, gentle, and you feel no less soothed than before. Cautiously, you continue.
“He… said I’m pinin’ for you,” you confess, mere minutes after swearing to yourself those words would never reach her ears.
“And are you?”
You stop up short at the bluntness of her question. Her gaze is unreadable, and you inwardly curse her poker face. “I— uhm, what?”
“Are you pinin’ for me?” Lucy Gray repeats.
“I…” You lamely gape like a fish. “I mean, I guess, I don’t know.”
“If I kissed you, d’you think that’d be something you could enjoy?” she asks you. Her tone’s shifted into something different now, and you can’t quite identify it but it has liquid heat pooling in your stomach. Your breath is caught in your throat, you’re scared to make a sound and break this moment, and so you nod wordlessly.
Her hands meet at the nape of your neck and toy with the hairs there as she slowly brings her lips to yours.
Lucy Gray Baird is soft when she kisses you, gentle. She kind of cradles you, her touch delicate, the way she is with her snakes or that fawn she nursed once — as though you might startle at any moment. You don’t know whether to close your eyes and savor the moment or keep them open and commit her to memory forever. You’re utterly beside yourself.
The kiss doesn’t last too long, she keeps it short and sweet, pecking your lips one final time before resting her forehead against yours contentedly.
“You okay, baby?” she asks after a moment, feeling you shaking against her. She leans back to get a better read on you and her brow furrows at your distress. “Sweet girl, I— did I overstep? Oh god, I’m so sorry, I —”
“No,” you manage to choke out. “No, it’s good, I just— this is a lot— I think I’ve loved you forever.”
Lucy Gray melts at that, pulling you in close and letting you rest your head against her chest, soothing her fingers through your hair. “Shhh, sh, it’s okay. Let it out, baby. You know, I always felt like there’s a reason the Covey was brought to Twelve,” she tells you. “I’m so sure it’s always fate, you know? And my momma was too. I always wondered what it was, I’d feel whispers of things at the edges of towns, I spent so long lookin’ for signs I’d never find. And then you brought one to me, you brought me flowers and ribbons and handfuls of love… and then I wasn’t looking for signs anymore. I was seein’ em everywhere I went, and you was bringin’ em to me every Sunday. And it was the holiest thing I ever felt.”
“You’re everything,” you manage, breathless. “I’m not— I’m no bard like you, Lu— you’re everything.”
“I love you,” she tells you, the intensity of her dark gaze setting you alight, “I love you sure as there’s stars in the sky.”
You lie in Lucy Gray’s arms long into the night, and she holds you, whispering to you how much she loves you. When morning comes, you know the stars will still be there, even if they can’t be found. And you know that when she rolls out of bed later than usual on Sunday, her day of rest, and you bring her flowers and ribbons held together with love, she’ll beam brighter than anything and you’ll have a sky full of stars in your arms.
#lucy gray baird x reader#lucy gray baird#lucy gray baird x fem reader#lucy gray baird x female reader#lucy gray baird x you#lucy gray#lucy gray x reader#tbosas#the ballad of songbirds and snakes
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Solace in Solitude Ch 7
Eventual Emily Prentiss x reader
warnings: language, alcohol, nicotine and weed consumption, mentions of trauma/death, nightmares & anxiety.
Yup!! She is back y'all!! Let's just say I got very bored of writing for bingo, things are not very Christmasey around here so I decided to try and finish this entire thing by New Year's. Now, i doubt that'll happen, but i'm still aiming for a chapter per day meaning 4-5 more chapters by NYE which honestly is just under what I have planned for this series. I wanted this one to be better, I can't lie, but in the new year we will move on to a new series and it will be wonderful! Happy Holidays!!
Emily kept her braids in until the next time her hair needed to be washed, if you had said anything she would say it was purely out of convenience and nothing else. But she knew that she actually liked it, she felt as if a new style was something that would help her move on to a new phase of life, not to mention you were a wizard when it came to braiding her slowly growing bangs into the braids and keeping them off her face. A new, different look was her way of leaning into Valerie, making herself more comfortable with the idea of everything and sticking around Paris while she waited for it to all come to an end.
She finally had enough energy to get out of the apartment, making it down the block to the corner store to pick up a few things. You’d been working later and longer hours, mentioning something about picking up a new research project in passing one day (that or you were hiding at the hospital, she wasn’t entirely sure). Thanks to that, things around the apartment had started to get a little on the lacking side when it came to chores. Emily didn’t mind, she spent most of the time in her room anyway and she could always get food delivered. But she did feel a bit bad if she wasn’t contributing at all, especially considering the last time she washed her hair you wordlessly braided it without her even having to ask.
So she’d began using her daily out of the house walks to not only get some more energy and strength back, but to pick up a few things for the apartment. Some days it was food, others coffee and she’d taken up the habit of replacing the flowers in the living room whenever they started to wilt. It was another small change in her routine that was helping her feel more human once again and she was finally starting to get comfortable being outside and not being completely on edge the entire time. She used the time to start upping her profiling skills again, the city streets of Paris the perfect place to grab a cup of coffee and people watch. She didn’t really care if she was correct with her hypothesises, it got her brain working again and she felt bad whenever she caught herself profiling you at home.
That didn’t mean she couldn’t tell that you were getting more tired with each day that went by, mentally drained by living the life you hadn’t chosen. She knew that one all too well at this point. So she did her best to keep the apartment in order without overworking herself and keeping out of your way, which in the long run was benefitting her too.
Currently Emily was out on the balcony, her usual home for the time in the evenings when you overlapped and her second favourite place to people watch from. The sun had already began its decent, the sky painted with colours of teal and purple when she heard the door open and shut inside the apartment. Her eyes flicked to the cigarette in her hand, wondering if she should stub it out before you saw it but figured she was already ratted out by the scent wafting through the air, not to mention the half pack of butts in the ash tray. She took another drag of it, watching a family of three on the street below her, the girl in between her parents, a hand holding each of them as she skipped her way down the sidewalk and her lips curved up into a brief grin. The thought of setting out on a nice family adventure on a Friday night, her imagination took hold, ideas flowing through her brain about the multitude of places they could be headed.
She was broken out of the daydream by the sound of you quite literally kicking off your shoes and throwing your bag into your room. The tell tale sign of what she first thought was the fridge opening, the sound of ice cubes being dumped into a glass proving her wrong, that you’d gone for the freezer instead, the glug of the high end bourbon you’d stashed in the pantry flowing into her ears next. She thought the next sound would be the closing of your bedroom door as you disappeared for the night and nearly jumped when you stepped out onto the balcony beside her, swiping the back of cigarettes from the small table. It happened so fast she couldn’t even let out a noise of objection before you spoke, snagging the lit cigarette from practically between her lips.
“Give me that.” You muttered.
“I- hey!” She groaned, her brow furrowing when she looked up at you to find you using her smoke to light your own, the pack already back on the table.
Before she could fully process what was going on her cigarette was back between her fingers and you were dropping into the empty chair, a heavy sigh escaping your lips as you sunk even deeper into it. She let silence overtake the balcony so you could use the time to decompress, shift from your doctor self into your home self and no doubt relax a little bit. She finished her smoke, stubbing it out in the ash tray not long after you’d lit yours. She debated going back inside but felt like her skin was still itching, desperate for more nicotine so without even glancing in your direction she picked up the pack, pulling the lighter from her pocket to light a second one while she prepared for the nagging she was about to receive. Instead you simply took another drag, shoulders sagging as smoke slipped from your lips into the cooling night air.
“Nothing, really?” She couldn’t help herself, nearly laughing as she pocketed the lighter, “I thought you of all people would be coming out here to lecture me about the dangers of smoking.”
You let out a scoff of a laugh, “it’s fucking France, everyone smokes.” Your eyes flicked down to the ash tray and your lips curved into a frown, “I won’t lecture you but you might wanna slow down on how many you have per day.”
“Not exactly like I have much else to do.”
“Yeah well, find a hobby or something.” You took another drag, “there’s a bakery two streets over with the best stuff in the city. You could make your walks longer.”
“Hmm.” Emily replied, the acknowledgement that she had been leaving the house and helping out was all either of you needed to discuss on the matter. You weren’t in the mood to be the rule maker right now, that was very clear.
Silence took over the balcony once more and as much as she didn’t mean to, Emily’s eyes flickered over to you, examining your body language, her profiler gears turning. You looked even more mentally tired than you had the last time she’d seen you, not that there were bags under your eyes, but the look of utmost defeat within them. You sunk down so deep into the chair, pulling your legs up into it, curling around yourself as if to protect yourself from the outside world. Your gaze lingered on the skyline, not daring to dart down to the street where people occasionally milled below and every drag of the cigarette between your fingers was long, deep, like someone who desperately needed a more intense vice they hadn’t indulged in in years.
“Rough day?” She finally asked, her voice soft, quiet enough you could ignore it if you wanted to.
“Yeah.” You replied, flicking the ash off your smoke while you glanced down, sighing heavily. “Lost a patient.” Emily watched as your staring contest with the sky ended and your eyes flitted through the street beneath you, “little girl, couldn’t have been more than eight. Came in ‘cause she fell off her bike, complaining of arm pain, admitting doctor said she was wearing a helmet and the initial exam was clear. She was alert, talkative, just the cutest fucking thing, reminded me a lot of my sister at that age. We figured it was a broken arm and were waiting for the x-ray line up to clear up to confirm.” You took a heavy breath, a long drag of your smoke and Emily knew the twist was coming, “turned out the Dad was lying to Mom about the helmet, he didn’t want to get in trouble for not enforcing the rules, thought it didn’t matter that the poor girl bonked her head. We didn’t catch the brain bleed in time…” You trailed off, your eyes glassy as they returned to the sky.
“I’m so sorry…” Emily whispered and you shook your head,
“A family doesn’t come back from that. Guilt’ll eat you alive, Mom’ll likely never forgive Dad, he’ll go insane trying to right a wrong he can’t fix.”
“Can only hope he takes it out on himself and not someone else.” She muttered, shaking her own head and she instantly felt your eyes on her.
“You see a lot of that in your line of work?”
“Unfortunately, yeah.” She sighed, “something like today would be a stressor, it builds up higher and higher, fucks with your brain until you can’t take it anymore and it just sparks an explosion. He’s never gonna be able to look at another little girl on a bike again. He’ll see parents who let their kids ride without helmets as unfit, villains, could start lashing out towards them, likely verbally at first before a trigger hits. Could be divorce papers, could be the family ostracizing him, one month, six month, one year anniversary of her death, then he loses it…”
“Mmm.” In any other situation you would have been impressed by the way her brain worked, but right now all you were consumed by was grief, a weak laugh escaping through your lips as you should your head, “god we’re depressing.”
“At least you don’t have to sleep during the day.” She muttered and you let out a small laugh.
“We can adjust your meds again.” You replied before you glanced down to your smoke, your head titling before you looked up at Emily, “though there is something else we haven’t tried…. I mean, we’re already smoking.”
It took a moment for the realization to wash over her, her eyes widening when she realized what you were talking about, “is that legal here?” She whipped her phone out, hastily typing before she nearly shot you a glare, “no! It is not.”
“Oh don’t be a fucking narc,” you rolled your eyes, your voice quieting to not be overheard, “you’re not a fucking fed right now, and it’s fine if it’s medical.”
“That’s gotta be some kind of illegal abuse of your medical licence.”
“Yeah well… I wasn’t the one who shot some guy’s ear off for a threat.” You deadpanned and Emily choked on her words, grimacing as she settled back in her chair instead of trying to stop you as you stood, “a couple of puffs now, we’ll eat a late dinner, finish the joint and go to bed. If it helps you sleep, I’ll get you a prescription.”
“Fine.” She grumbled, willing to try anything at this point to get her back to a normal schedule, knowing that one day she was going to have to work through the day and sleep through the night again. She couldn’t keep this up forever.
*
You’d been the first to tap out, the exhaustion of a full work day on top of the glass of bourbon and weed, once your stomach was full, you were down for the count, saying goodnight and quickly heading to your bedroom. Emily felt fine, a little cloudy but relaxed, comforted almost and she knew it was probably not the greatest idea but she sipped on a glass of wine after you went to bed, feeling the night sink into the city. She thought nothing of it as she went through her normal nighttime routine, even though it was hours earlier, her eyes were drooping, it was at least time for a nap. She locked the balcony door behind her, washed the couple of dishes in the sink, filled up a glass of water and made sure the alarm was set. She washed her face, brushed her teeth and took whatever meds she normally did before bed and curled up under the blankets, letting out a soft sigh as she did so, sleep taking over much quicker than normal.
The major conflict being that Emily’s body was used to the new sleep schedule she’d implemented, the one that started at dawn and went ‘til dusk. Meaning it had been roughly twelve hours, not twenty four since she’d last taken her meds and even with the added weed, she’d only been awake four hours by the time you got home, there was no way it was actually bedtime for her. She could practically feel herself tossing and turning, her mind racing as images began to plague her dreams.
Though this time it wasn’t just Ian, they were at the villa, there was a weird haze over the entire thing but she was playing with Declan, wide smile on her face as he laughed while she chased him around. At first she looked like Lauren; Declan was as small as she remembered until Ian showed up and a darkness enveloped the room. She could feel her heart pounding, a gasp escaping her lips as she frantically looked around for the boy who was suddenly nowhere to be seen. Unlike the last nightmare this time it was as if she was having an out of body experience, watching the entire thing like it was a movie. She watched the fear spread across her own face as her hair darkened, became straighter, bruises started to purple up on her skin as Ian laughed at her.
“You’ll never find him. You’ll never be able to protect him.” He jeered, “he’s my boy after all. You gave up that chance, didn’t you?”
Blood started to stain her shirt, forming a circle on her lower abdomen before she let out a groan, hands shooting to the wound, trying to hold it together as red streaks began to drip down her clothing. She couldn’t help but collapse to her knees, choking on her own breath as she tried to speak, desperate to find the boy before he did.
“Declan….” She cried out.
Instead of his perfect blue eyes popping up from behind the couch, Ian’s hand wrapped around her throat, forcing her face up to his.
“He is my son.” He spat, “and nothing, not even you, will keep me from him.”
“Please!”
“Em!” A voice rang out, a hand closed around her shoulder and she could see it, the bodyless limb in her nightmare as she continued to sob. She felt like she was going to throw up, “Emily!” It repeated, this time louder, “hey! Wake up!” Her vision began to spin, blurring as the scene in front of her slowly vanished and suddenly she was jolted into her Parisian bedroom, the nightstand light on, casting a glow though the room and she realized it was your voice that was soothing her. “Hey… I’m here.. it’s okay.” You assured her, watching the way she slowly blinked to life, her chest heaving as her eyes darted around the room and she instantly shot up, shuffling back on the bed as if she was about to be hit.
“I-“ she struggled to find the words, her eyes flicking from each spot of the room that was a little too dark for comfort to the window, making sure it was shut before she felt your hand on hers, your thumb soothing across the back of it.
“You’re okay.” You repeated, “he doesn’t know where you are. You’re safe, I promise.”
She took a moment, calming her heavy breaths, not even bothering to wipe the tears away as she fought against every instinct in her to run out of the room right then. Grounding herself by the warmth of your hand on hers, the weight of your body next to her on the bed, knowing that this was reality, not the scene in her head moments prior. Once you could tell she was back on earth your free hand reached out to the nightstand, flicking through her pill bottles until you found the anti anxiety, twisting it open to hand her one.
“Here.” She took it from you, popping it under her tongue and waiting for it to dissolve. “You’ll feel better in a bit, get some rest.” You began to shift from the bed, knowing how much she hated when you even attempted to coddle her and she let out an uncharacteristic whimper, her hand instantly tightening in yours.
“Wait!” You were halfway standing when you turned back to her, frowning at the tears blurring in her eyes, “stay… please? Just for now.”
“Okay.” You shot her a weak smile, shifting back onto the bed, your heart sinking at the way the tears were still leaking over her cheeks, the way her body would occasionally shake in fear. Whatever tonight’s nightmare had been about was clearly affecting her more than the last one. You adjusted the blankets, making sure they were wrapped around her, and covering you enough you wouldn’t get cold and you were taken aback at the way she nearly collapsed against you, holding onto you as if you were the only thing keeping her from slipping back into another nightmare. “Hey…” you squeezed at her softly, “talk to me… please.”
“Thought you weren’t a shrink.” She bit back and you let out a huff.
“I know the basics, and you need to talk. You need someone right now and I’m the one that’s here, so let me be what you need, even if you hate it.” You felt the vibration of her grumble against you, your free hand soothing up and down her back, “wanna maybe start with who Declan is?”
Emily tensed in your arms, unaware that you’d heard that much, wondering just how much she was willing to share tonight before she let out a shuddering breath, “Doyle’s son.”
“Just… his…?” You asked cautiously and she let out another wavery huff.
“Yes.” Her hand reached up to wipe away a stray tear, “my job was to seduce him, but I mean, I was careful. I even slept with him and I don’t do that.”
“Well even I know sleeping with an international terrorist isn’t likely a good idea.” You muttered back.
“I meant men.” She replied and you almost stiffened beside her.
“Oh…”
Silence filled the room once again as she continued to try to calm her thudding heart, the medicine you’d given her slowly coursing through her veins.
“My job was to keep Declan safe, even afterwards. That’s why I moved to D.C, not because of the BAU, but because it was close to him. I thought I was safe for so long after Doyle was arrested, that things were fine, that he’d never find us again but I was wrong. If he managed to break out of prison, find me and completely destroy me… again… what’s stopping him now?” She took a shuddering breath and your arms tightened around her.
“He thinks you’re dead.” You whispered softly, “even if he hacks into Boston hospital records, that’s what he’ll find.”
“I just want to feel safe.” She sniffled again and you held back the instinct to wipe the new tear away, not wanting to end this chapter of her feeling comfortable talking to you, feeling vulnerable with you. “I knew he wanted to kill me, that he wanted me dead and I had the upper hand and didn’t take it. I died. I actually died in the ambulance and all I felt was… cold.. and darkness… that can’t be it.” Her hand clutched at your shirt again, “that can’t be the end…”
“It wasn’t.” You assured her softy, your hand slowly rubbing up and down her back, “and it won’t be. You deserve so much more than that, okay?”
“I just want to forget him.”
“I know.”
________________
@daddy-heather-dunbar @mandy-asimp @leftoverenvy @dextur @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @scorpsik @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @theclassicgaycousin @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @niyizh @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @romanoffsho @ratsnestinmyhair @assgardangod @originalbrunettecharacter @hopedoesntknow @dj-bynum3718 @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @nachofriess @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx
#emily prentiss#criminal minds#emily prentiss x reader#solace in solitude#lauren reynolds#emily prentiss fanfic#emily prentiss series
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𝚅𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚍 || 𝚆𝙺 𝚘𝚌
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Name: Valerie Littlebird
Also known as: Val, Chickadee (Martin), Kiwi(Gourmand), Dr. Lady(Zach)
Age: 25
Ethnicity: Cree
Gender: Female(She/Her)
Birthday: April 29th(Taurus)
Occupation: Medic for Tortuga HQ, Herbalist for Tortuga HQ
Height: 5'6(168 cm)
CV: Sarah Podemski
Signature Colour: Teal
Personality:
Valerie is known for her quiet, stoic and reserved nature. She usually keeps to herself, but she is not averse to joining in on the fun. Her level-headed and strategic thinking is particularly valuable during missions, especially when things get stressful. Valerie is a great listener, and her unwavering self-confidence makes her one of the most hardworking members of the team. She is very practical in her approach to problem-solving and is highly attuned to the world around her. Valerie has a very strong moral compass, and she holds her beliefs very strongly, to the point where she can be petty about them.
Despite being kind-hearted, Valerie can sometimes be overly analytical and judgmental. She has a strong aversion to dishonesty, believing that lying is a cheat to life, and this can visibly upset her. She can also be dismissive of emotions and tends to avoid discussing them unless she initiates the conversation. Valerie has a strong need for personal space and dislikes physical contact unless she initiates it herself.
Abilities:
Valerie is an incredibly skilled individual when it comes to medicine and first aid. Her skills extend to both animals and people and she is often seen tending to her crewmates' injuries, ensuring they are well taken care of. Valerie's expertise in herbs, flowers, and various other plants led her to take on the role of the team's botanist. As a medic, she can make medicine from plants and herbs she grows, making her an essential member of the team. Her proficiency in cooking also means that she can whip up a delicious meal for the crew to enjoy after a long day of adventuring. Valerie is an expert problem solver, and her ability to think outside of the box has often led her to come up with creative solutions to complex problems. Valerie is also fluent in Algonquian, French, and English.
Likes:
Gardening
Botany
Dancing
Ferrets
Birds(Ravens in particular)
Crafting Jewelry
Horses
Personal space
Platypuses
Squirrels
Rain
Dislikes:
Zach
Zachbots
Donita Donata
Dabio
Paisley
Rex
Gourmand
Thunderstorms
Dishonesty
Spiders
Mosquitoes
Ignorance
Loud Noises
Trivia:
Valerie gets the nickname ‘Chickadee’ because of her Chickadee feather earrings.
Ironically enough, her colour scheme is reminiscent of a Bluebird,
Her last name is also ‘Littlebird’.
Valerie makes her jewellery and likes to braid for people when she’s stressed or someone needs to be de-stressed.
Valerie’s medicine bag contains foldable medicine equipment, such as a scalpel, bandages and even several syringes and blood testers.
Valerie has been shown using her Creature Power Suit, but she prefers to use her ‘fold-a-bat’ as a weapon.
Valerie is the only girl in her immediate family - being raised by her two fathers and several older brothers.
Her favourite continent is Central America.
Despite her CPS, Tail Attachment and Creature Pod being teal, her favourite colour is blue.
She is pansexual.
She has a surprisingly good relationship with Donita.
She has never once had a bad hair day.
Her favourite Greek Goddess is Athena.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Hey guys! Sorry, for the unannounced break, Uni started for me and it is a LOT. During this, I started thinking about various ways to improve Willow's design to make a sort of 'final boss' if you will. Thus, Valerie was born! I love her design and just her in general. Let me know what y'all think!
Yes, she is still paired with Martin so expect cute art of them soon.
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Cardverse Week 2023
@aphcardverse-week
Day One: Royalty - Arranged marriage | Coronation | Tradition
Francis did not pick his new Queen, but watching her bear the weight of that heavy crown, he doesn't doubt Vash's judgement in this matter.
Gen | No Romance | No Warnings Apply
The girl was small, fae like almost. She had daisies and sweet williams thread in a crown across the braid that spanned the top of her head. A white dress with cap sleeves and a yellow satin belt, tied neatly into a stiff bow at the back, reached her slim ankles, little pale yellow shoes poking out to reveal delicate feet. Francis could not quite see to confirm their colour, but her eyes stared doggedly at his knees, utterly respectable and reverent. According to her family, she was sweet, gentle, and good natured.
She was also practically a child.
Francis kissed Lili’s hand, then peered over at Vash. The girl’s brother, Jack of the Kingdom and the one who had reluctantly proposed the match, had a face like a thunderous storm.
There was no law dictating that a King and Queen must love each other, nor even that they must marry. Indeed, of the four Kingdoms, Clubs’ King had deftly been set aside for the Jack by the Queen, whilst in Hearts, the King and Jack were as inseparable as any grand love affair told throughout the ages. Only Spades, odd tiny Spades, had the King and Queen in any sort of romantic entanglement. And that, from what Arthur had explained, had been designed from the men’s birth. Pushed together and forced to be in each other’s company until the only outcome was either virulent hatred or genuine love.
Sometimes Francis doubted Arthur was capable of feeling the latter... but it was not for him to judge.
Still. At least all of the Queens were quite safely several years into adulthood. Lili was young, but her brother’s unfortunate decision to ensure she was an utter ingenue, and completely unprepared for any complexity in court life, had left a foul taste in Francis’ mouth. If he did not know his Jack so well, the King would have assumed it was a way to ensure the Queen was totally dependent on her brother for guidance, unlikely to act independently and deny the traditional three point power structure that kept the monarchy in balance.
Fortunately, the King did know his Jack. Lili had superseded all other choices for a reason. Blood was not one of them.
Lili smiled, said her thanks, then looked to Vash for guidance.
Uncomfortable as always, Vash’s eyes did soften when speaking to his sister. Softly, but still rather brusque - the Jack was not known for his empathetic nature - Vash urged her to stand straight, and to look her eventual husband in the eye.
In the grand mirrored hall, with half the court watching with a snide curiosity, the King searched for something to say. Something to find in common with the girl nearly ten years his junior.
“Tell me Lili,” he tried, “Do you play cards?”
Those soft blue eyes sparkled, little mouth popping open. She did not speak, but nodded enthusiastically.
“She plays a little,” Vash spoke for her.
Lili tutted, finding her own voice. “If I may boast, I believe I am rather good at it.”
Francis resisted the urge to heave a sigh. It was a start.
“Then let us go sit and talk over a game.”
*****
She was more than rather good, the King soon discovered. In fact, she was rather beastly at it.
It was hard not to treat her akin to a child. She was small, she was soft spoken, she did enjoy filling her chambers with soft toys, her favourite food was angel cake and there was nothing in her wardrobe which was not covered in flowers or glitter.
But then and again she did odd little things. She had a knack for reading people which indeed did make her unbeatable in games such as poker. She revealed herself to be just as fiscally minded as her elder brother, albeit slightly less ruthless about it.
Lili was also rather stubborn, when it came down to it. In the planning of her coronation, she could be softly fixated on certain aspects, yet delicate enough in her manner of speaking and presentation that denying her would be either preposterous or cruel.
There had been peace for many years, Francis was forever a snob who enjoyed the finer things in life, and Lili’s favourite colour was gold.
Not yellow. Gold.
Of course the expense was going to be astronomical. However, as Francis had discovered, that was why Vash was their Jack, and Lili was their Queen.
The night before her coronation, Francis sat with her on the veranda in the gardens. Lilies filled oversized pots, merging with crawling ivy around pillars.
“I think I should be honest with you about what to expect from our partnership,” he stated.
Lili drank delicately from her tea cup. Her eyes darted around the space, looking for her brother. There was no chaperone tonight, just Francis and his eventual Queen.
The King endeavoured to keep his expression kind.
“I hope that I will always treat you with the respect that you deserve and are entitled to.”
Lili blinked owlishly.
“But… I will be brutal. This is not a love match. There will be no wedding. Ever.”
“No…”
“Do you wish otherwise?”
She inspected him quite closely. Then, she softly shook her head.
“Vash said perhaps, you would be content if you were to claim the title of brother. Not to supplant him, of course, but I thought perhaps that sort of love could flourish, if there will be no wedding.”
Relief flooded through Francis. “Big brother? I like that. Good. Then I hope you know that I will continue with my dalliances as I see fit. No-one will out rank you. No-one will command you. But we are King and Queen. Not husband and wife. Traditionally speaking.”
“Will I have the same courtesy?”
“Pardon?”
“May I love who I chose? Without your vetting first? I would like to build my own circle of companions. Ladies to wait on me, men to entertain and protect? Just as you have?”
Ah. She had caught him out there. Francis did not trust easily, and yet he was loathe to be called a hypocrite. Lord knows his lovers had not always had their king’s best interests at heart. Just as Francis did not expect them to. He was not naive.
The thought, however, of Lili being taken advantage of, was somewhat enraging.
Perhaps that was engineered by her and Vash, but Francis settled himself to expect that feeling going forward. Fine. He would be yet another watchful brother to spoil the Queen. That suited him quite well.
And yet, looking at those constant, measured, blue eyes, he knew she was not as frivolous as he. She was her brother’s sister after all. She would not choose her company lightly.
“Would you prefer it if we went through our courts together?”
She mused the compromise, then nodded. “To vet them? Yes.”
“Then we shall do that.”
“Are you sad,” she asked, “to be tied to me and yet not in that way? You do not wish for someone you love? We will never marry so long as we rule, as you say, either to each other or someone we may truly love.”
He shrugged, long having come to term with such a quandary. “I will still love. As may you. May it be what it is. It is tradition by this point. Our people first, ourselves second. Let us serve them as only we can.”
Lili took another sip, expression inscrutable. Francis prodded, “Have I misjudged? Do you expect something of me I am not willing to give?”
She looked only slightly mournful. “No. Not from you personally, sir. Just the thought of a quieter life I mourn. I will recover.”
Francis stood, rested a gloved hand on Lili’s bare shoulder, then kissed her temple. She did not shudder, move away, or follow the touch. She sat perfectly still, accepting it for what it was. A comfort and a resignation.
“I think,” Francis said, “come tomorrow, such thoughts may be quite far from your mind.”
Her tiny hand came up, wrapped around his wrist, and squeezed. She was surprisingly strong.
“I hope I am worthy.”
*****
In a cathedral occupied by four thousand people, it was a surprisingly intimate affair. As was tradition, the monarch was blocked off by tapestries towards the end of the ceremony. Lili was on her knees whilst the Bishop read a passage quietly only to her. She made her oaths to their Gods, then rose up to her feet as the tapestries were pulled away. The King was standing close by, magnificent crown on his own head, the Queen's version in his hands. Vash stood on the left, sword in hand and pushed into the ground, point scraping the stone floor. Francis was staring very hard at the crown, with its gold and pearls and shining diamonds for which the Kingdom took its name.
He was inspecting the Crown as if it would give him the answer to some terrible question he had been unable to answer. As if tilting in a certain light, seeing a certain gleam, would lay each and all of his troubles to rest.
Lili moved forward, slowly, the great weights of her yellow dress and cape trains adding gravitas to her movement. She lowered herself again, and Francis deftly placed the crown on her head. It had to be squished a little over her fluffy hair. It was heavy. She looked up at Francis, whose expression was unusually grave. When she tried to stand, she found the weight of her clothes and the solid gold lump on her head was now too much for her tiny body.
The King took her hands, giving her a solid weight to anchor herself to. She rose with a grateful smile. Quickly, so quickly that no-one would have noticed, Francis’ stern face cracked. His mouth twitched and he winked at her.
“Heavy,” she whispered.
“Which is why we have each other,” he replied.
Lili held on still with one hand, turning to face the congregation. Vash, for once, was smiling (though not enough to show his teeth, no, he had never been that happy) and joined the two on the high step. He cried out for the cheering to begin. The crowd did very well, the wall of sound almost being enough to push the Queen back a step. Bells rang out, jubilant and - if her ears were not lying to her - joined by the cheering of crowds outside.
At the front were the nine royals from the other three nations. Spades, all in blue and indigo, Hearts, in red and violet, and Clubs, in green and black. Some, Francis noted with disdain, appeared more invested than others.
He took a mental note, then quietly stashed the thought away for another time.
For now, the King turned to his new young Queen, bowed, then began to lead her out the Cathedral.
She was not necessarily the one he would have chosen for himself, but Francis knew his flaws. His judgement of people was not always… astute.
This little golden bird however, held her head high, even under the weight of a nation, and did not flinch as she stepped into the sun.
The Kingdom of Diamond’s had chosen their Queen quite well.
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The Path of Poisons .4
Asphodel
Larissa Weems x gn! OC
The Path of Poisons masterlist . [01] . [02] . [03] . [04] . [05] . [06] . [07] . [08] . [09]
words count: ~1.8k
WARNING: I'm translating this from French to English. As it takes sooooo much time to do it myself, I use an automatic translator. BUT neutral doesn't exist in French so even if I proofread to change every "he/him/his" or "she/her/hers" in "they/them/their" I might miss some.
"Ugh, shit!"
"Well, I'm glad to see you too, Rei."
Rei looked up from their phone. Thalia was in front of them. This time she was wearing green overalls and a flowered shirt, with a braided straw hat to hide the snakes in her hair. The Weathervane was their usual meeting place, now that the summer holidays had begun. They met several times a week in the mornings to catch up on old times. After all, it had been almost five years since they had seen each other. Rei had dyed her hair red. A dark red, rather, so that the colour would look natural. He was wearing a cream shirt and brown trousers.
"Sorry, Thalia. It's my editor who says he can't edit my book at the moment, I still have to work on it. Except I'm going to start running out of money, you know? I was counting on the sales of this book to bail me out."
"Well, you know, there are ways around that."
"Like what?"
"A botany teaching job just opened up at Nevermore. And you're more than qualified."
Rei took a sip of their coffee.
"In botany, maybe. Not in teaching."
"Think about it, even if it's only temporary, it might make your situation a little more secure."
"I don't know if I really want to…"
see Larissa Weems again.
"to teach a bunch of insolent kids."
"They're very nice, for the most part. Besides, I can teach you a lesson if you like. We've got all holiday for that. Oh, I'll have a lie-down, please," she said, calling out to the waiter."
"Listen, it's nice of you, really, but I'd rather ask the florist if she doesn't want to hire me for a few months."
"As you wish. But know that if you change your mind, I can always plead your case to Mrs. Weems. She's very understanding, you'll see."
"I'm sure she is."
Their tone seemed a little dry. Thalia frowned.
"Hey, Rei. Just because you're having a bad day doesn't mean you have to be that nasty."
"Excuse me, this whole thing is getting on my nerves," they sighed.
"Well, do you have any plans for this morning?"
"I'm going to go to the florist."
"Oh, by the way! I found an old photo album of Nevermore from the years you were there but I don't see you… Wait a minute."
She rummaged in her huge backpack, pulling out various things: an umbrella, tissues, a water bottle, a jumper, another hat… and then the photo book. Rei took it and opened it. They searched for a few moments before pointing to a picture of a darker-skinned girl with disheveled black hair, wearing a uniform that was half-stained and torn in some places.
"Oh. My. God. Is that really you?"
"Haha, yeah, no wonder you don't recognize me. I don't think anyone would guess it's me."
"But you've had surgery?"
"Not at all, and that's the crazy part, I just changed a lot."
"Now that you mention it… But it looks like you've changed your ethnicity. In this picture, you say you are a Cree, I believe you. But today, your white-passing spoils everything."
"Yes, I don't know why it did that," they laughed, "miscegenation sometimes has strange results."
They turned a few pages and found themselves better combed, but still wearing the same shabby uniform. Next to them was Larissa Weems, with her arms wrapped around them, as if to cuddle them.
"Oh! That's Larissa! She's changed very little, though. Well, she has, a little, but you can tell. You look close in this photo."
Well, it's… It was probably time for that talk. In any case, Rei couldn't hide their past with Larissa forever. They leaned their back on the backrest, crossed their arms and legs, and looked outside, staring blankly.
"To tell you the truth, we were. But we didn't leave each other on very good terms. I'd even say it was on very bad terms."
"Oh, really? Why would you say that?"
"I don't want to tell you. Thirty years have passed, Larissa Weems then and Larissa Weems now are not the same person. What she did is in the past now. I hope she wouldn't do the same thing today."
Thalia had a pout on her face that meant "I'm worried about you… and I like gossip, too"
"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"
"I'm sure. Especially as she's your boss, I don't want to put her life on display in front of you. And to be honest, she's the reason I don't want to be a teacher there. I don't want to see her again."
"But still, at the hospital…"
"She was sleeping. And then you know my curiosity. I wanted to see how much she had changed, physically at least. Please don't tell her I'm back. Don't tell her it was me. I think she'd be uncomfortable, too."
Rei laughed nervously.
"To be honest, I don't know if I would have moved back if I'd known she was there. Anyway, now that I have, I'm not going to move again just for her."
Speaking of the devil…
Rei turned pale. Mrs. Weems had just passed the window and was heading towards the entrance. They motioned to Thalia to put the open book away, and pretended to drink their coffee peacefully. Their friend did not understand such a reaction, she had not seen Larissa, as her back was to the entrance. Mrs Weems went first to the counter to order and then saw her colleague
"Oh, hello Mrs Kedlan!"
Thalia understood.
"Hello Mrs. Weems, this is my friend, who I think I've already told you about."
"Raine Asphodelus, nice to meet you," Rei agreed, standing up and holding out her hand to the tall woman.
"Likewise, Larissa Weems," she replied, shaking their hand.
They had agreed with their friend and former colleague Raine Asphodelus, author of The Book of Plants and Legends, to impersonate each other if the situation called for it. It was Raine who started it by impersonating Rei to the brother of one of their exes who came to beat them up.
"I wanted to thank you personally for buying me these flowers. It was very kind of you."
"It's nothing, I hope you like shrubby everlastings. These flowers are not to everyone's taste."
"I especially liked the symbolism."
The principal smiles. Shit. Larissa had become so beautiful. And then her eyes… Her eyes. It just brought back all the feelings they'd had for her in the past. Her outfit fit her so well, as if it had been made just for her, a very light blue that only enhanced the blue of her eyes. 'Pull yourself together, Rei,' they thought, swallowing their saliva.
"Dearest, are you all right? You don't look fine…"
"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm just a bit lost here, I haven't been here long."
"Oh, when did you arrive?"
"The night you were attacked, I think. That's terrible, you were very lucky to get away…"
The waiter gave Mrs Weems her order.
"Very lucky that Avareïda Hydrurga had the idea of writing a book on poisoned plants I'd have to contact her again, by the way and have a student who had read it find me. I'll leave you now, I have to tell the police about my attack. I only came to get a coffee to go. Have a nice day. Oh, Thalia, I'll be calling a meeting for Mrs Thornhill's replacement soon, so I'll email you a schedule so you can all vote on what time works best for you."
"No problem, Larissa. Have a good day."
"Have a good day too."
The woman left. Rei fell back in the seat.
"FUCK."
"That's clever, I'll have to call you Raine now," Thalia said sarcastically
"You can keep calling me Rei and it won't be a problem."
They slumped on the table, one cheek against the wood, both arms on the seat.
"Why does she have to be THAT beautiful?"
"Wouldn't you like to give her another chance? I mean, professionally speaking… I'm telling you, she's a really good person. She helped me a lot when I was having problems with my family. And then she didn't recognise you!"
"I'll think about it… But if I accept, it's under the name of Raine Asphodelus. I really don't want her to know it's me."
Larissa was walking back to Nevermore, a little confused. Raine, huh? There was something about them she liked. Their eyes, maybe. She parked her car and got out. She liked this stranger. Maybe she was going to ask Thalia for their contact… She wanted to have fun, to get to know someone. Her near-death experience had opened her eyes. She didn't want to end her life alone. She wanted to find someone. She went upstairs to her office and walked to a door next to the fireplace. On the other side was the room she slept in during the week. She looked in the mirror. She had grown old. She should have done something about it before. Besides, most people her age were either already with someone or didn't want anyone. She felt ridiculous. Not attractive enough. Too old. She felt like she was waking up after a battle.
And then she remembered Ava.
Ava wore what she liked, even if her clothes had holes in them. Ava was strong. Ava didn't care what others thought. And that was why she liked her. She wanted to be like her. She walked out of her room and out of her office. It was strange, the empty corridors. Every major holiday she felt a little empty. But she still had work to do. She had to look at all the admission files for the next year. So there was no time to daydream.
______________________________________
The romance officially begins!
#larissa x reader#larissa weems x reader#larissa#principal larissa weems#larissa weems#principal weems x reader#principal weems
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I loved desining Reiju in @one-idea 's reverse strawhats au, so here are my desings and explanations for Kaya as well! She has been really fun to draw and desing and I think that she has become my favourite character in this AU. (Which makes sense, since Usopp is my favourite in normal one piece)
The first one at the left is her at 14 during her debut. I made sure she looked smaller and skinnier and with rounder ligneaments to highlight the fact that she's a literal baby at this point. Her outfit is pretty much the same one she had in canon during the flashback at Syrup Village.
The second one is her at 17 before the timeskip. I really wanted to highlight her growth by making her look more mature and confident. She has braids because I said so and she's cute asf, she also has a hat with Doctor Hiriluk's cross to simbolize how much she looks up to her mentor.
The final one at 19 is after the timeskip and its easily the biggest change. She had quite the training and gained even more confidence in herself and her abilities. She is wielding her trusted crossbow, I think I'll name it "Chairo Yaru" which literally translates to brown spear. She has a much more masculine appearence with more evident muscles and shorter hair. (Usopp will faint once she sees her) But she still has a femminine side since she still wears a skirt and also a flower in her hair. I think the flower changes every arc, like Usopp's hats. She also has more battle scars, which she displays proudly. And if you are wondering why her bag is the same colour as her old hat, its because the bag is actually made from the hat! I think Kaya would be good at sewing. It would also be pretty awesome if she was taller than Reiju and Nojiko (at least 5 foot 9/ 175 cm) since she was the shortest pre time skip
Also if you look closely you can see that all 3 desings incorporate a little purple bow: first in her hair, tgen in her braid, and lastly on her crossbow. Its a bow that Usopp gave her! They are so in love.
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My favourite Kate Looks #3: The Hearts and Flowers Ball
We are now down to the top 3 of my favourite Kate looks, and coming in at the number 3 spot is the Hearts and Flowers Ball.
The dress code for the Hearts and Flowers Ball was pink, and we see Kate in a pink gown with a sheer white overlay. Her dress is a darker shade of pink compared to that of Edwina's gown, and appears to be slightly heavier fabric. This occurs about half way through the series, so what we see in Kate's look is the beginning of her softening as she moves towards opening herself to love with Anthony.
The fabric for Kate's dress, whilst a lighter fabric than what she wore in the first couple of episodes, still isn't as light a fabric as we see in episode 8, and whilst it is pink, it is a darker shade of pink than that of Edwina's gown, as well as Daphne's, and most of the other young ladies. There are many different shades of pink, and the shade of Kate's, whilst light and feminine looking, is a slightly darker muted shade keeping in line with her other colours being a darker shade than what those around her are wearing. The dress has a sheer white overlay with a beaded floral pattern with short tulip shaped sleeves that has beading along the edges, and she wears long white evening gloves to complement the overall look.
This dress is paired with gold jewellery set. The necklace has multiple teardrops with a filigree that invokes Indian style. The drops in the necklace alternate in size, and orientation, and is inlaid with pink and white gems to match her dress. The earrings are a larger teardrop shape, and the Tiara is straight up in a mix of sizes mirroring the teardrops in her necklace. The larger points in the tiara have a pink jewel drop inside the gap, and the tiara itself is inlaid with the same pink and white jewels, most likely some form of diamond.
Kate's hair is again in an updo with her signature plaits (braids), with some loose tendrils framing her face, showing the beginning of her undoing, as her hair begins to soften and loosen.
This dress is worn during Kate and Anthony's first dance, and the encounter in the study afterwards, two very sensual, and charged, moments between them. It seems fitting then that Kate is wearing pink for these moments, a mix of red and white. Red symbolises passion, whilst white is more soothing and calming. Darker shades of pink, such as Kate's dress, tend to symbolise more the passion of red than the calmness of the white, and so the colour symbolises Kate and Anthony's passion, but the white tempers it which we see in Kate noticeably holding it back.
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Tw: Weed & Drugs mentions
I’ve finally got around to posting this guy’s profile! You can ask me anything about him <3
Adam 🌱
Name: Adam (Formerly William “Bill” Sage)
Meaning: ‘earth’ or ‘soil’
Alias(es): The Green Man, The Hippie, Murder Jesus
Pronouns: He/Him
Age: Early to Mid 30s
D.O.B: August 28th
Zodiac: Virgo
Sexuality: Pansexual
Current Residence: Roams mostly around California and the West Coast of America, sometimes has a van or stays in a tent or in one of his follower’s homes.
Occupation: N/A, though formerly in the Military
Appearance Description: Adam is a man of tall stature, with fair to lightly tanned skin (depending on the season and weather), long brown hair that is occasionally braided or bound in a headband and leaf green eyes, though one may detect a multitude of different colours inside of them.
Style: Tea Glasses, Vests, Tie-Dye, Bell Bottoms, Open Shirts, Headbands, Sandals Or Barefoot.
Height: 6,3ft
Eye Colour: Green
Hair Colour: Brown
Notable Features: A long, thin scar on his right side from when one of his ribs was removed. He also has a large, deep scar on his left thigh and multiple smaller ones all over his body from shrapnel and misc. injuries. Has large earlobes and occasionally wears dangling earrings.
Personality: A common sentiment expressed by those he meets on the road is that Adam exudes a natural charisma, so strongly so that even those who originally did not approve of his lifestyle find themselves drawn to him. It is an almost supernatural effect. But Adam himself seems to be a relatively normal guy at first; he’s so easygoing and fun-loving, he can kick back with almost any person he meets like he’s known them for his entire life. There is a certain sureness to him, like he feels all of his actions are right and just. He has a free spirit and an artistic streak, and his wanderings lead him everywhere, often collecting ‘followers’ on his path.
Likes: Nature, Cannabis & Psychedelics, Rainbows, Flowers, Cacti, Parrots, Canaries, Rock Music, Maximalism/Clutter, Abstract Art
Dislikes: Monochrome, The Desert, Emptiness/Large Deserted Places, Loud Bangs/Slams & The Sounds of Ceramic Breaking, The Cold
Hobbies: Painting, (Usually with his hands) Playing Guitar & Singing, Caring For Plants, Meditation
Tw: Angst, Weed & Drugs (LSD), Family/Parental Abuse, Poverty, Character Death, War, Depression.
While this is ambiguously set in the 60s/70s, It’s not specific.
(Very) Rough Backstory:
William “Bill” Sage was born near the border in Southern California, together with his twin brother Charlie. Where they lived was typically arid and barren, and they spent their childhood playing out in the sticks, away from home. Their home life was always turbulent, mostly because their parents would constantly argue and occasionally take their anger out on them. Being twins, their bond was always very strong, and both of them relied on eachother for support when things got tough. They were almost entirely identical in looks, aside from a few differences and preferences in clothing.
Bill’s parents had a traditionalist mindset which he never could live up to, and Charlie was in his eyes often the ‘better’ twin; smarter, more attractive, more talented. It never really created a rift between them, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel any sort of hidden resentment.
Their father was always gambling, Because he stupidly bet their house in a game, they later ended up living in a cheap trailer since it was only thing they could afford at that point. Over the years things only got worse, especially when their mother died of an illness and left them with only their father. It was really to the point that they felt no real attachment to him, since he was never a loving father at all really.
Eventually Charlie felt like he had had enough at pitched the idea of joining the army to get away from everything; they both felt they had no future prospects in doing anything else. Bill agreed, partially because he wanted to stay together with his twin and in part because he wanted to escape his home and where he grew up as well. Bill took to the change in lifestyle readily, because it was new and in some ways actually more bearable than his previous one. At the same time, they didn’t really fully realise what they had both signed up for.
His brother died in conflict right in front of him, a sight which he would never forget burned into his retinas forever. Due to injuries Bill sustained in this very same situation, he was considered unfit for future service, although some might say that it was corruption in the ranks or a quarrel with a superior that got him thrown out of the army; he was never up front about that one.
He ended up returning to California, drifting about without much purpose in San Francisco. He became homeless, without any sort of support put in place and having such difficulties holding down any job he could even get into. He fell into a group of people in similar situations, but with all different backgrounds.
Bill underwent many changes and transformations during this time. He tried on new religions, new drugs, new personalities. Chiefly, he tripped on LSD/Acid and continued to search for new highs as he basically ran from himself. Although it was in some ways a period of self-discovery, it was also self-destructive.
It was then he met this older woman named Janis - or at least she told him that was her name - who took him in and looked after him during this time. Sometimes, Bill felt like he was being tested by her somehow, but couldn’t confirm it. She was mysterious, and he never could get her last name. Then, she offered him this new ‘drug’ he had never heard of before, but at this point he would really try anything and he accepted it.
The trip he took on this drug was unlike anything he had ever taken before. Something out of his control reached out to him and entered his mind, and when it did he had a wondrous revelation. Although he has told this story many times around a campfire, he cannot verify the specifics. Only that he knew it was all he had been waiting for his entire life; that the journey of finding his purpose had only just begun.
After he woke up, Janis was no longer to be seen. She and almost all her things had disappeared, almost as if she was a figment of his imagination. The only thing that remained was her glasses, which he took into his possession as a keepsake.
He chose a new, more fitting name for himself: Adam, and set off to give his message to all that would listen.
Fun Facts:
His favourite book (series) is Lord of The Rings
His favourite film is The Wizard of Oz (1939)
His favourite music artists are The Beatles, Jefferson Airplane, Grateful Dead, Led Zeppelin, Cream, Black Sabbath & Jimi Hendrix.
His favourite colours are green, yellow and purple
His favourite foods are Avocado Toast & Melons
His favourite drink is Orange Juice
It would be too simple to consider him someone who merely has control over plantlife. Adam almost sees himself as a part of nature now, and it’s debatable how attached he is to his own body now that it has been changed so much.
He started to smoke weed to deal with his chronic pain from some his war injuries, but now also just recreationally, a.k.a for fun lol
Bill grew up around the arid mojave desert, in an area where there wasn’t much plant life at all really. In the better days he used to take care of cactuses as his hobby, and now even as Adam he has a soft spot for cacti.
Bill learned to play a bit of guitar as a child/young teen but wasn’t able to truly master it, as it was carelessly discarded by his parents and probably sold to pay their debts. Many of Bill’s old belongings went this way, to the point that by the time he and Charlie were leaving for the military, he had almost nothing to his name but a few dollar bills and the clothes on his back. He picked the guitar back up again during his period of re-discovery after leaving the army. Now, he isn’t the best player, but he can still do a couple of his favourite songs.
Although he has enough clout now to basically have a friend in every city he passes by, he was a socially awkward teen and when he got older, Charlie was really the ‘extroverted twin’ out of the both of them. It goes to show how different he is as ‘Adam’ compared to when he was Bill.
Speaking of, he does have a number of ‘believers.’ It’s possible that at one point they were more organised, but there were some investigations done before and Adam felt it simply more wise to keep a low profile.
(Taglist: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @the-pinstriped-hood, @goldrose-star, @soupbabe, @bluecoolr, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @flower-crowned-lady, @probably-a-plant-thing, @solmints-messyocdiary, @myers-meadow)
#he kills people with#literal flower power#also the fact both he and max are Lotr fans#I base it off the literal weed smoking wizards#and also makes sense for the#time period(?)#if I want to put him in one#Adam#Bill Sage#my writing
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𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝐫𝐝; 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 || Felix
«The previous one only lasted three stories, hopefully you fare better.» The woman was ever as pleasant, looking to her visitors as if she would prefer them to be just about anyone else. With a sigh did she put down her coffee cup, the fifth one of the day and jet black as the darkness around them. On her desk sat three corked vials, one the colour of midnight, one as clear as water and the last one bubbling and threatening to break, cracks appearing along the glass. The woman paid the vials no mind as her attention was fixed in a specific direction, as if seeing through the stone itself and regarding something in the distance. A mournful cry could be heard from above, a sad song preformed in an ancient tongue long forgotten.
«They want us to know them as perfection incarnate you know?» Her smile could only be described as cruel, seemingly knowing a secret she had no intent of sharing. Absentmindedly she began toying with a letter opener, fashioned after an old gladiatorial sword ― specifically created to ensure an excruciating death. Expertly twisting it in her hand until it was directly pointed at herself, inches from her heart. «But you shall see they are just as capable of folly as us mortals.»
!Warnings! Blood & Death
𝐄𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲
Her neck had been perfect to bite into, supple flesh for him to cradle and taste the sweet forbidden nectar of his mate’s lifeblood. Their union had been heartwarming, overseen by his kings as he made his promises of eternity below the grand willow tree in the gardens. Now he felt her beneath him for the first time, whimpering as he feasted on the small amount he would allow himself to sample. And it was oh so sweet, she tasted of the finest spices and delicacies he could have been offered. Her hands grasped on to his shoulders, pushing and pulling as they made this final journey into the unknown together. As his beloveds breath hitched a spike of adrenaline made the taste of her even more irresistible, a sweet ambrosia he would feast upon. There had to be more! In a careless motion did he push her head upwards in order to expose the neck further ― a loud crack sounded, and Felix stilled.
Hesitantly he leaned back, shaking as he no longer could hear the steady beating of her heart nor her lungs drawing breath.
Blood, so much blood.
Once upon a time Felix had thought himself beyond feeling the temptations of blood, certainly not by simply looking at it. For millennia it had been nothing but a colour to him; his eyes, the lining of Caius’ favourite coat, the wine that Corin extracted and made drinkable ― and now his mate. Her hair had always reminded him of the darkest night sky, and now it lay sprawled out on his white sheets with a burgundy tint, stained. In his bloodlust he had crushed parts of her ribcage when he pressed down upon her, caved in and hollow when it should have contained a beating heart. Her neck ― destroyed.
Felix drew in a shaking breath, tasting her blood on his lips and unable to resist swallowing down another mouthful. What had he done?
He lay with her for seven nights and seven days, her head resting on his chest as if she was only slumbering. One evening he had braided her hair, beautifully and intricate as he knew she loved it done. The next day he had dressed her as best as he could in the cloak the two of them had chosen, a pale grey that shimmered in the moonlight that crept into his chambers. When Caius entered his quarters on the eight day he found his most trusted guard in a heap on the floor besides the bed, his bride laid out on the sheets surrounded by wilting flowers.
«We need to burn her, she is dead and rotting,―»
«No,―»
«Yes, she is. Let go of her and I will have Santiago handle the body.»
«No!» Caius had brought more than enough guards with him, Demetri were on him together with his general within a matter of seconds to keep him still. Felix screamed as he watched Santiago pick his mate up, the guard giving her a final kiss on the forehead before carrying her into the hallway, away from Felix and descending into what would be her final resting place.
From his own quarters he could still smell her, the intoxicating scent of oleander intermingling with the harsh acids they used to get rid of their prey. She was burning, a different kind than the one she had anticipated ― there would be nothing left of her, no beauty, no life, nothing. A mournful cry escaped him, prompting Caius and Demetri to hold on even tighter in order to keep him down. He must have cursed them in his delirious state, never had he seen the two of them so forlorn; nearing the breaking point themselves. There was no fight left in him the moment her scent disappeared completely, evaporating into the air. Whatever remained so seared it would never be her again; it was as if his mate had never lived in the first place.
Mourning turned to tears, venomous and a mockery of the real kind; but it was the only thing he had to offer her. Caius let go, letting him sink into Demetri’s embrace as he hid away from the world in the crook of his dearest friend's neck ― body shaking with sobs.
He was alone, and always would be.
Three days later an explosion would shake the ancient foundation of the palazzo, sending every vampire into a frenzy as they searched the halls. When they made their way to the chute, a great fire roared within it as acid and vampiric venom had intermingled in a fierce fire. Remains of bone, flesh and crystallized venom pouring out of the tall cylindrical structure from a deep gash due to the explosion. Two golden rings were found in the rubble glinting in the dark, with an inscription that had Heidi sobbing when she retrieved them. Later on she would bury them beneath the willow tree without much ceremony.
None of the guards would admit to assisting in the incident, and Aro refused to touch anyone's hand ― it was time to let Felix rest.
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Paradise: Chapter 5: Ever Tear, A WaterFall
Pairing: Javier Peña x McKenzie Martel
Rating: A - Adult
Warnings: Angst, Illegal drug use
Summary: McKenzie makes a grave mistake
Note: This is an AU set in between season 2 and season 3 of Narcos sometime in the 90's. I apologize in advance for any historical inaccuracies!
MASTERLIST --- PARADISE MASTERLIST
There were very few things that McKenzie appreciated about Rob. He was a terrible roommate at the end of the day. He never cleaned, always left a mess wherever he went, was typically late on his rent, and could be quite rude to new people. The positives though? He did pay his rent even if it was late, he didn't care about Kenzi painting every surface she could, and when it came to them getting high Rob was always prepared.
By the time Kenzi was ready to go, Rob had already gotten them all set up. There was snacks and drinks if they needed them or wanted them, and the lines were already cut. He even had the straws ready. Kenzi could appreciate that at least in this aspect, Rob was good.
Kenz flopped down on the couch, looking up at Rob as he handed her a straw. She took it gratefully and leaned forward over the coffee table, plugging one nostril and inhaling the fine white powder through the other. She leaned back on the couch and let out a soft breath.
"You good?" Rob asked, taking his line before flopping down next to her, he tossed his straw onto the coffee table in front of them. "Who was that guy on the phone at the ranch the other day?"
"Javier." Kenzi replied, leaning forward so she could set her own straw down. She run her fingers through her hair and blew out a puff of air as she sat back again, pulling her hair away from her face. "Don't worry about it. He's just an old friend."
"Wasn't he your best friend?" Rob questioned. In response, Kenzi only nodded, staring up at the ceiling. "Shit. You okay?"
"Yeah, Rob, I'm fine." Kenzi spoke. She rested her head on the back of the couch and stared up at the painted ceilings, watching the dark black swirls above her move and change. For the first time since Javier had come back she started to slip into a peaceful feeling. She felt happy. A grin slowly crept along her lips as she watched the swirls above her morph and change, the pops of colours that she had painted seeming almost more vibrant now.
The pair were silent, experiencing their own highs in their own ways. Kenzi watched at one point as Rob moved to the kitchen and started clanking pots around. She didn't let it bug her, instead just going back to her own little happy world.
"You want some macaroni?" Rob called out from the kitchen, peeking his head around the wall with a goofy smile on his lips.
"Sure." Kenzi replied, sitting up again. How long had she been staring at the ceiling? She didn't know. She leaned forward and took another line, wiping at her nose after she was done. She leaned back again and started fiddling with her hair, grabbing a few random strands of the red curls and braiding them.
When she was done braiding she moved to fiddle with her pendant, fingers tracing the little peace sign sigil that she wore almost every single day. It was rather large and made of metal. Truthfully Kenzi couldn't remember for the life of her where she got it. Some sort of music festival? It had come in handy quite a few times. It was supposed to be a bottle opener but she decided to thread it onto a piece of twine and just wear it. That way she would be prepared for anything, really. That and it matched her aesthetic.
Another change. Something that had happened within the past few years. Kenzi wasn't certain what had brought on the sudden change, her aesthetic before being so laid back and whatever. She hadn't really cared too much what she looked like before but in her college days she had made a change, deciding to embrace the trippy, flower child aesthetic that worked well with the style of her art. Typically that just meant some oversized jeans and a tight tank top that showed off her mid drift and the piercing she had gotten on a whim, normally decorated with some fort of hanging jewel. At the moment it was just a little silver alien with green gems for eyes.
It was a vibe. Her vibe. One that she knew had thrown off Javier at first.
Not that it mattered at the end of the day. McKenzie was happy with who she had become. She was confident in the way she appeared to the world now and at times she felt almost as if she was actually beautiful. Not Javiers type, of course, but it didn't matter anymore. Kenzi had moved on. That ridiculous crush that at one time she had allowed to control her every though had slipped away in his absence.
In some cases, absence made the heart grow colder.
Kenzi looked up from her fiddling with a gracious smile when Rob walked into the room, a bowl of macaroni in each hand, he handed Kenzi hers. She sat up and started eating, doing a little happy wiggle on the couch as she took in forkfuls of food.
Kenzi was so lost in her own little world that she didn't hear the doorbell. Another good thing about Rob. He was much more attentive when he was high than she was.
"Kenz!!" Rob called out as he walked from the front door to the livingroom where Kenzi was peacefully jiving to the music in her head while she practically inhaled her macaroni.
She hummed in response, looking up toward Rob and their visitor. Her heart dropped. It was Javier. Shit.
"You have a visitor." Rob stated as he plopped back down onto the couch beside her. He picked his bowl of food back up just as McKenzie set hers down onto the coffee table, her heart absolutely pounding.
It only took one look. One look at the coffee table, one look at her eyes and the half dazed expression on her face. One look and McKenzie knew that Javier knew. The way his eyebrows furrowed ever slightly as he stared at the duo, his eyes flittering from the coffee table and back to Kenzi, there was so much anger. Anger in his eyes. Anger in his expression. The world seemed to go in slow motion as Javier pursed his lips, hands going to his hips as he shook his head slowly, a breath leaving his mouth.
"Jesus christ McKenzie." He spoke under his breath, his voice barely a whisper. All she could do was watch as he pulled off his yellow tinted aviators, folding them and tucking them into the collar of his shirt.
The aboslute horror in McKenzies eyes as she stared up at Javier spoke a million words. She wanted to apologize but she didn't truthfully feel remorseful for what she did. She was just sad that he had found out.
"So that's it then, huh?" Javier hissed, "I leave to fight against this shit and you become one of them?"
At his anger filled words, Rob looked up from his food, his gaze moving from Javier to Kenzie then to the lines of coke still sitting on the coffee table. "What?" Rob asked, looking over at Javier, "You didn't come for the sesh?"
McKenzie opened her mouth to speak but no words came out, just a muffled squeak as she watched Javier move toward the coffee table. She watched in horror as Javier picked up the edge of the coffee table and flipped it up ever gently so he didn't actually wreck the table. She watched as all of Robs stash slid off the edge of the table and onto the rug underneath, effectively ruining it.
Rob stood at once, his bowl of macaroni still in his hand. "What the hell is your problem?!" Rob yelled, glaring at Javier.
"Don't." Javier warned, returning Robs hateful gaze, he looked over at McKenzie before crossing over to her and grabbing her by the chin, looking into her eyes so he could truly see just how dilated her pupils were. "Jesus Christ." He hissed, pushing her away and stepping back.
Rob was immediately at Javiers side, pushing him away. "Hey get the fuck away from her you creep." Rob spat.
Silently brooding, Javier pulled away from Rob, glaring over at him once again. "Sesh is over." He hissed, grabbing Kenzis arm. He pulled her to her feet and looked her over, making sure she was okay.
Wordlessly, McKenzie led Javier to her bedroom. She knew all too well that a fight between Rob and Javier would not end in her roommates favour and if she wanted to keep her friendships with both of the men she would have to play this smart.
Once the door to her bedroom was shut, McKenzie turned to look at Javier who was still obviously fuming.
"So that's it, huh? You realize what you're doing McKenzie? You're throwing your life away is what you're doing." Javier spat.
"Stop, Javs. There's nothing wrong with having a little fun from time to time." Kenzi spoke, crossing the room so she could sit down on her bed.
In any normal circumstance it would have been surreal to have Javier there. To have him surrounded by the colourful swirls and harsh black lines of her art. To see him in the dimly lit room, his features glowing with all the colours of the rainbow as the light hit him. Instead this was just… hard. It was terrible. Shameful. McKenzie felt a deep sadness in the pit of her stomach.
He was never supposed to see this.
"Don't pull that shit with me McKenzie." Javier argued back, crossing his arms as he stood in the middle of her bedroom. He hadn't moved an inch, almost seeming as if he was ready to walk out at any moment.
His anger was sobering for her. Dread settling into her as she came down from her high.
"Javier…" She started, getting promptly cut off by a glare thrown her way.
"Do you even realize how many people had to die for that one little sniff? I hope those fifteen minutes were worth it to you, McKenzie, because you effectively killed six people just there." Javiers words were so full of anger, so full of hate.
The worst part about it all was that McKenzie knew. She knew that she was fucking up. She knew the horrors of the cartel and yet she still indulged. Selfishly, she indulged.
"You weren't supposed to see this…" She whispered.
Javier just scoffed, looking away from her, "You…" He started, shaking his head. A sadness passed his eyes as he looked over at McKenzie. "You realize that I could easily get you arrested just for being in the possession of that? You relaize that you could get in a lot of trouble?"
"I know."
"Then tell me why, McKenzie. Tell me why you're…" Javier let out a breath, trying to calm himself down. "Fuck, McKenzie…. What the fuck happened to you? This is not you."
It was McKenzie's turn to furrow her eyebrows. It was her turn for anger to bubble into her. Perhaps it was the cocaine still in her system or perhaps it was the hurt and pain that she had endured in the past ten years finally raising up to the surface. Regardless of the reason, McKenzie opened her mouth and she yelled.
#fanfic#fanfiction#pedro pascal#narcos fanfiction#original character#pedro is daddy#javier pena x oc#javier pena fanfiction#javier peña#narcos#javier pena narcos
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@ensnchekov
She stands on the back lawn, just behind Andy. The garden is in the last bloom of summer and fills the air with local and exotic flowers from other places her mother has worked, including some of the more distant planets with Minshara class designations with similar conditions as Earth. But for as beautifully scented and coloured it is, no single aspect is left to its wild nature. Down to the smallest leaf it has been carefully manicured to within a centimetre of its life. Every blade of grass carefully measured by an army of gardeners. It contrasts the flag stone courtyard with its fountain, the white outer walls of the sprawling single floor manor that over looks the bay. The land has been in the Admiral's family for generations. So have most of the things on it. Everything is pristine and perfect, right down to the three people waiting for their new guest.
There's no fence or force-field around the cliff's perimeter, he'll need to be warned about that. It wouldn't do at all if he were to fall or be swept out to sea.
Her mother and the Admiral have been talking quietly about it for months, and only seemingly consulted her brother and her when they'd already made their decision. From that quiet moment at the dinner table to her mother's overseeing of setting up the guest room, to the few hours before now, Andy's practically floated on an cloud of enthusiasm. A young boy about Beth's age give or take. A new sibling to shelter under wing, one he doesn't feel he needs to be over protective one. Does he like sports? Does he read graphic novels and old stories? Does he like to tinker with ancient technologies? An army of questions and possibilities have filled Andy's thoughts. Her mother of course reminds her children to be sensitive. The boy lost his parents, she tells them, and might not wish to speak of that, nor of the years he has spent more or less on his own. Be sensitive to the fact that his culture and life are vastly different than their own, and do try to make him feel welcome. The Admiral himself says very little, except to point out gruffly, and perhaps intentionally pointedly, that the boy has test scores like none he's seen before. That his intellect is a rare treasure and they could all surely appreciate how special he is because of. That in some ways he reminds your old man of myself, and of course, you Andrew.
She says nothing, everyone knows she's smarter than her sibling, more artistic, and in some ways, more cultured.
The boy is still better.
She wonders if he hates it. She wonders if he takes pride in being a golden child.
She wonders, too, if he knows how to swim.
"Heads up, make yourselves presentable, there is the shuttle." Her mother's voice breaks into her thoughts and Beth finds herself standing at her full if unimpressive height. Hands smooth down her skirt, tucks dark hair back into the braids it had been wrestled into. Andy stands at parade rest, hands tucked behind his back, and her mother is a vision in black and gold, slender as a reed and a little taller than her only daughter though her heels make up a few extra inches. Even into her fifties, her mother is one of the most beautiful women in the world, regal and maternal at once. Beth might have felt better if she'd been permitted to merely watch this all from the window of her room.
The shuttle lands on the pad as smooth as glass.
As soon as the hatch opens and the boy comes into view, her mother steps forward with a radiant smile parting her lips. "Welcome, Mr Chekov. Chuvstvuyte sebya kak doma."
#ensnchekov#tbd|Pavel Chekov#tbd|Pavel and Beth#tbd|Pavel and Andy#Boldly Going Forward|Star Trek AOS au#Mission in the Rain|San Francisco
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[BSTS] Sinju Valentine’s Day 4* Card Story
cries
note: P’s show is based on ‘The Secret Garden’ by Frances Hodgson Burnet, Shinju plays the role of Colin. They’ve changed to story to be about Colin falling in love with Mary.
chapter 1 -unei's office-
shinju: Huh? This isn't going well. Hmm...
saki: Hello, Shinju-san.
shinju: Oh Saki-chan, welcome.
saki: What are you doing?
shinju: I'm making a flower crown, since I need one as a prop for our next performance. I was told Sotetsu knows how to make them so I asked him to teach me earlier. But then, when I tried making one myself it was surprisingly difficult...
Sotetsu whipped one up so quickly so I figured it'd be easy but I guess not...
saki: It does look difficult...
shinju: I'm going to start over and try making it once more, would you be able to watch? If something about the flower crown looks strange, then having you point it out to me would be a big help!
saki: Sure, though I'm not sure how much help I'll be.
shinju: Thanks! Sit here beside me.
-saki sits-
shinju: I'll get on with it then, this time I'll make a beautiful flower crown for sure!
saki: Do your best!
shinju: You start by taking the flowers and putting them here and here... By the way Saki-chan, what do you think about this arrangement of flowers? They're not an odd combo right?
saki: No I think it's a great assortment.
shinju: I thought that the colours of these flowers would suit you well.
saki: Me?
shinju: Yeah. I think that Colin would choose flowers that suit Mary and make a flower crown for her like this. So, making this with you right here is probably good practice for the show.
...Ah, maybe these flowers were too big, isn't its shape a little warped?
saki: I think it's fine, it'll work.
shinju: Phew. Then, I just have to braid this part like this...
-time pass-
shinju: ...It's done! How did I do?
saki: Nice work. I think it's a wonderful flower crown.
shinju: Thanks, it's thanks to you. I think I've worked out the knack for making them now! I'll use this one as a reference and make an even prettier one for the actual show.
-
chapter 2 -starless lobby-
shinju: Welcome, Saki-chan!
saki: Hello, I see you’re in your costume Shinju-san.
shinju: I know the show’s about to start but there’s something I wanted to tell you beforehand. It’s about the flower crown, after the one I made with you I did my best and made one that turned out really well!
saki: That’s great to hear! I’m excited to see it.
shinju: It’ll make an appearance in the show, so look forward to it. Ah, I have to get going, see you, have fun ok!
-time pass, starless restaurant-
saki: (Oh, looks like the flower crown scene is coming up.)
-cg
shinju: “It’s done! Hey, take a look. I made it whilst thinking about you, I think it’ll suit you for sure.”
saki: (Such a beautiful crown… Shinju-san really must’ve given it his all making it.)
shinju: “What do you think? Is it to your liking?”
saki: (Am I imagining things? It almost looked like he said those words while looking this way.)
-time pass, after show-
shinju: Saki-chan!
saki: Good job in tonight’s show. The performance and your singing were both wonderful.
shinju: I’m happy to hear you say that. Oh right right, did you get a good look at the flower crown?
saki: Of course.
shinju: You helped me out with the process of making it so I definitely wanted you to see the finished product. I was kinda worried it may have turned out a little childish though…
saki: That’s not the case. It was so beautiful that I wouldn’t mind gazing at it forever.
shinju: Is that so? I’m glad you liked it then. (closes eyes) I feel like I better understand another one of Colin’s feelings now.
saki: Hm?
shinju: Come and watch our show again tomorrow, since the special flower crown will be right here waiting for you!
—end
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Headcanons about Daemon and Rhaenyra in canon or in the universe of your fanfic??
I love your fanfic, one of the best i’ve ever read❤️
Hi there my dear Anon ❤
Damn this ask is almost a year old l:l SORRY!
Thank you so much ❤️ I feel so bad for how long this took me!
I cannot express how excited I am to answer this question *wipes tear* how much time do you have though?
I will try to keep this brief XD Just point out things I used in my fic, and others I have never explicitly said but have laid some clues here and there, and then some canon only headcanons.
Rhaenyra
- She was on the short side barely 5''2 taking after Aemma’s side (I mean Daella was tiny and Rodrik is described as a short man, so this has some canon base ;));
- Her eyes were bright purple - true purple not violet or lilac - and her hair was equal parts silver and gold. It seemed more curly than it was because she wore it in a braid so often, in truth she had large waves;
- She was a Taurus - I mean stubborn, and liked the good life, hello?
- She loved sweets, and loved to read and would often spend her nights doing both;
- Her favourite colours were purple, maroon, pink, black, and red (again much canon-base for this one);
- She was very precocious (and is described as such in the books) and learned how to read a little before she was four. By five she could read anything in the common tongue of Westeros and in High Valyrian;
- She loved to ride Syrax but hated riding by horse and would take a carriage or palanquin every time she could not travel by dragon;
- While she loved fashion and clothes she was a terrible singer and a below average dancer. Most times she danced with men she would stomp on their feet (and they would have to pretend to not notice). She looked like a much better dancer when she danced with Daemon since he was good at guiding her;
- Her favourite flower was the rose and she would usually smell like them using rose perfumes and oils daily;
-She would always tell Syrax what happened between her and Daemon and would tell Caraxes to turn away from them as it was “private”;
- She wore rings even in her toes;
- Like Alyssa she was very loud 😬 you know where;
- She never stopped calling Daemon uncle, her other nickname for him was “my big bad dragon” - valyrian version for y’all: rōva quba zaldrīzes. She also called him “my prince” but that’s actually canon XD
- She and Daemon would often talk in High Valyrian to each other when they weren’t alone. Whenever Viserys complained they exchanged a look and continued to do it;
- She told Daemon she loved him after he kissed her for the first time. She had wanted to do it when he gave her the tiara;
Canon Only:
- She always called Harwin “Strong” when they were together, sometimes it slipped when other people were with them;
- When she visited Harrenhal the two shared a kiss, and out of every man who courted her he was the one she liked the most because he made her laugh, and he wore a gold cloak like Daemon;
- She thought Jace was going to be a girl and she was going to name him Visenya. When he was born though, she love him so much she forgot about all the rest;
- It was her who started to call Jacaerys and Lucerys Jace and Luke because she didn’t like their names, especially since she had no say and it was Corlys who picked them. If she had a say she would have called Jace Baelon for her grandfather. She would have named Luke Aemon since Prince Aemon and her grandfather were so close;
- After the incident with Aemond and Luke, and her father sent Harwin away, Rhaenyra got drunk and slipped into Daemon’s bed. She confessed to him that Harwin was the father of her sons and that she and Laenor never consummated their marriage. Then they slept together (again).
-She suspected Daemon had something to do with Harwin’s death. She was going to confront him but then she realised she might be pregnant so she never asked him. She was too afraid of the answer and she knew she had to marry him for her baby;
- She would always play with her boys and chase after them kicking off her shoes;
Daemon:
- He was slightly taller than Viserys standing at 6″1. He was naturally very slender as a boy but grew more muscular because he forced himself to eat more and practice every day;
- His hair was almost completely silver only slightly darker than his son Aegon’s hair. His eyes were a pale lilac, very similar to how Rhaenys’s eyes had been (Queen Rhaenys);
- He was a scorpio - I mean dark, mysterious, vengeful, stubborn, a s$x god... need I say more?
- He didn’t like food a whole lot, especially not sweets and was a terrible eater as a child.
- He liked to tease Rhaenyra that when they grew old he would be very skinny and her very fat;
- He never got to say goodbye to his father Prince Baelon and it was something that haunted him;
- He was a great singer and dancer. As a child it was Alysanne who taught him how to dance;
-I t turned him on to watch women eat;
- His favourite colour was red, a bright red like Caraxes’s scales;
- He would let Rhaenyra braid his hair and he secretly liked it. The shortest he ever wore his hair was to his shoulders;
- He liked to watch himself doing something 😬 it’s easy to guess what;
- His favourite treat was roasted chestnuts with salt;
- He liked to sleep naked;
- He liked to say things to make Rhaenyra blush, especially when they were not alone;
- He kept calling Rhaenyra niece after their affair and after they married, his nickname for her was “my little dragon” - zaldrītsos. He also never called her “my love” and never allowed her to call him so. He thought it was too boring for them;
- He called his kids hatchlings when he was happy, and pests when they misbehaved. On that note when Rhaenyra annoyed him he called her “insufferable girl”.
Canon Only:
- He thought about visiting Rhaenyra when Rhea died but was told she was heavily pregnant so he went to Driftmark instead;
- Laena made him wait a while before they consummated their marriage saying she wanted to know him better. At first he was outraged but then amused and he took it like a fun game;
- He liked to touch Rhaenyra whenever Harwin was near to annoy him and made a point of telling him the two had been lovers and that Rhaenyra had asked Viserys to allow them to marry back in 112 AC;
- He laughed when he heard that Rhaenyra had rejected Criston’s advances and made a point to hint at this whenever they were near and Daemon was bored;
- When Laena lost their son and died he thought he was being punished for what he did to Viserys and said about his nephew. He considered never trying to have a son again. He shared it with Rhaenyra. When she said she had always thought she would be the one to give him the son he wanted, he kissed her - it was their first kiss since they were parted in 112 AC and he thought she was now a much better kisser (though he didn’t really like the reason);
- He gave Luke the dagger he used to cut Aemond’s eye. He gave Jace and Joffrey similar ones as well. It was a ploy to woo Rhaenyra and get her sons on his side;
- Rhaenyra told him that he had told her he had ordered Laenor’s death - he never did, but he had been drunk and didn’t really remember so he believed her. He didn’t like that she had as big a dirt on him as he had on her;
- He already knew Rhaenyra was pregnant with Aegon before she told him;
- Aegon III’s Targaryen necklace belonged to Daemon, he gave it to him when he left King’s Landing for the last time;
I think this is too much already 😬 I could go on but it’s too much XD I hope you like it though <3 sorry for the year I took! I have no excuse!
#Daemon Targaryen#rhaenyra targaryen#The Rogue Prince#The Realm's Delight#pre asoiaf#the princess and the queen#fire and blood#house targaryen#headcanons#the dance of the dragons#Daemon x Rhaenyra#Rhaenyra x Daemon#the rogue's delight#this is about the books only#book Daemon#book Rhaenyra#canon Daemon Targaryen#canon Rhaenyra Targaryen#popcorn answers#after a FULL year#I am so ashamed
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oh my gosh, those mergwen headcanons are so freaking adorable!!!! i need, like, a hundred more, oh my gosh. fantastic!!! this pairing deserves so much love, it's so cute TT
(Referencing These Headcanons)
More you say?
Hmm
Ok
I can manage a few more😁
First off, go HERE, to find a headcanon for how they act when Gwen goes into labour with their first kiddy. I fully intend to write this scenario into a full, fluffy fic one day. But yeah. They’re super excitable and everyone is super in awe of how chilled out they are considering Gwen is on her merry way to push a whole mini person out of her coochie (Gwaine was subsequently set on fire for wording it like that). They’re going to be SUCH good parents and everyone knows it.
Both of them, though Gwen starts first, when she’s pregnant, find themselves using their parent voice on their friends, but the thing is, it genuinely tends to work more often than not. The others find this very horrifying and also rather annoying (and hilarious when it’s someone else). When kiddy is older, and speaking and learning, Merlin, exhausted and in an odd headspace, has (on several occasions) said things like “Say hello to the duck, Elyan” (on a patrol) and “No touching, Leon, only looking” (when they went exploring the market together) and “Inside voices, Gwaine” (when he was laughing at a joke in a tavern). He will also, when he’s REALLY exhausted, try to get Arthur into bed at like... the medieval equivalent of 6pm. Because The King is a child, who can’t be up past his bedtime. He also took to cutting Arthur’s food up really small before he served it for a while, until Arthur pointed it out. It was genuinely just muscle memory, and Merlin was pretty embarrassed lol.
Elyan, obviously, gets used to the parent voice the quickest. Leon however... he never stops struggling. He blue-screens for a solid ten seconds every time it happens.
Jumping back again, once they get together, every gift they get someone else is exactly what the receiver needs in the moment, even if they hadn't previously realised it. No one will say it out loud it fear of hurting someone else's feelings, but everyone looks forward to whatever Mergwen gets them for Yule/Birthdays the most.
If they don't want to be found?? They won't be found. Of everyone in the castle, they're the ones that know the most about the secret tunnels and hidden rooms and gaps between walls. They can get anywhere unseen, and it also means they can just hangout uninterrupted any time they want.
They have pets after they move in together. Probably just half feral/outside cats at first, because they both work, but they get big ol' doggos later down the line.
On one memorable occasion, Gwen fully slaps Arthur in the face for making a slightly off colour joke about Merlin. Merlin was already tired and annoyed, so Gwen could see he was slightly more upset about it than normal, and Gwen was also tired and tetchy, due to having been up all night waiting for Merlin to come home from fighting the week's villain. She's utterly mortified after she finishes shouting at him for underappreciating Merlin, and just being plain cruel to him sometimes, but everyone else thinks it’s hilarious, and Arthur gives Merlin the meekest, but most sincere apology that has ever exited his mouth, before scurrying off, embarrassed.
On a similar line, Merlin has intimidated his fair share of arseholes in taverns and bars who wouldn't leave Gwen alone.
Gwen painstakingly and patiently teaches Merlin how to braid hair, and he becomes a master at it. They braid flowers into each others hair, and Merlin grows his out a little longer because of this.
On a slightly darker note, Merlin teaches Gwen how to properly clean and sew wounds, how to deal with blood loss, with concussion, with loss of consciousness. Once he becomes more comfortable with the idea of going to Gwen’s house, instead of Gaius (as a matter of practicality, OR avoiding a lecture), she utilises these skills regularly and impressively.
The Druids all call her My Lady and bow to her and give her flower crowns and cloaks and stuff upon first meeting her. She is baffled, and embarrassed, and hates it, but Merlin refuses to ask them to stop because she is a queen in his eyes. Merlin is, oddly enough, happy to take his place as King/Lord of the Druids, if it means Gwen also gets treated like royalty by the people he adores so much.
They don’t really do pet-names, probably just a casual “love” from Merlin, and “Merls” from Gwen. Maybe the odd “sweetheart” is thrown in the mix here and there.
so SOMFT
~
:D
#mergwen#bbc merlin#merlin x gwen#merlin/gwen#merlin/guinevere#guinevere#merlin#gwen#king arthur#arthur pendragon#gwen kicks arthurs ass#merlin kicks drunkards asses#leon#sir leon#elyan#sir elyan#gwaine#sir gwaine#soft#somft#fluff#mergwen fluff
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Headcanons: mandy Pregodich
Requested by:
I don’t know much about this lovely lady…but let’s go.
1 - most of her outfits are have floral prints. Usually pairs them with jeans or some skirts.
2 - her hair is really smooth- like it’s silky smooth and it’s easy to brush through.
3 - she can somehow sleep really still? She barely moves on her sleep- which is impressive.
4 - her favourite colour is peach.
5 - she paints in her freetime. It’s usually landscapes or flowers.
6 - introverted, she doesn’t really like people that much.
7 - she gardens. She plants roses of all colours, and really likes them too.
8 - she has a succulent in her bedroom. She likes succulents due to how easy they are to care for. Although she loves her roses she has to admit caring for them gets tedious at times.
9 - she isn’t a fan of nail polish. She hates how it can be so hard to clean off sometimes.
10 - she’s barely home. She’s usually outside at work, but when she has freetime she rarely stays at home to. She’s always outside whether she’s at the park or the library.
11 - she has tried dry pressing flowers before, in hopes of making them last as long as possible. She dry pressed some flower petals and turned them into a bookmark. She quite likes them.
12 - she has a fake rose lamp she made herself. She was inspired from “beauty and the beast”, and tried it out. She had a lot of fun making the lamp.
13 - she braids her hair sometimes. Aside from letting her hair down, she also braids her hair. She looks good with braids so, it’s a win.
14 - she reads a lot. She has read about how to dry press flowers, how to colk, how to take care of plants…But aside from those, she also reads novels, though she prefers audio books compared to reading novels sometimes, since she can listen to them on her way to work.
15 - gets a minimum of 6 hours of sleep everyday.
16 - keeps her nails short since it’s more convenient and comfortable for her.
17 - she has those earrings that you clip them on, since she doesn’t have piercings, but she still wants to wear earrings. Her favourite pair of clip on earrings are these small, pink rose earrings she wears a lot.
18 - wakes up really early whether it’s a weekday or weekend. She usually wakes up at 6-8am daily. Even if she has a day off or free time in the morning, she rarely sleeps in.
19 - has eye bags but they aren’t really dark, and usually covers them with makeup.
20 - she used to learn how to play the flute. She still has a flute and occasionally practices, but she isn’t learning how to play the flute anymore.
21 - she’s good at wrapping gifts/presents. She knows how to tie ribbons really well, and if you get a present from her it’s going to be really well wrapped.
22 - she likes eating peaches. Like how she likes the colour peach, she also enjoys the fruit. Sometimes she even makes fruit tarts with peaches in them.
23 - yoga. She does yoga sometimes change my mind.
24 - can stay really calm and collected in stressful situations. She can cope well under pressure and it doesn’t affect how she works.
25 - earphones over headphones. She thinks headphones are bulk, and find earphones easier to carry around.
26 - her workspace is always really neat. Books she has are organised in alphabetical order, and she rarely makes any kind of mess. And if she does, she usually cleans it as quickly as possible.
27 - overachiever. Tries to achieve the best of the best in everything, and is really competitive.
28 - she is really good at debating with people. She usually knows a lot of points, and can easily win a debate if she wanted too. Unless you find a way to convince her otherwise, you are almost guaranteed going to loose a debate with her.
29 - she has a pair of reading glasses at home. Does she always need them? No. Does she need them sometimes? Yeah. She usually brings them to work as well.
30 - she has a journal with her schedule for the day planned out fully and packed with notes. She follows this accordingly unless anything comes up and disrupts her schedule, and she’ll act accordingly.
That’s all I can think of. If I think of anymore I’ll make a second post.
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