wisteria --- ( WRITING ) ! P/U: PTERO.

[French Vanilla]

Jirohbebe, you have IMPECCABLE timing if I do say so myself.
o A o

[Jiroh]

eek

/falls over

fffffff-- I swear you know them better than I do, it's so beautiful and perfect and, just everything I wanted and more. * 0*

Quote:

He presses his thumbs in harder and she fights the groan of pain when he slips his hands underneath the hem of her shirt.

It's all amazing, really, but this part is very yes. They are weird and edgy together like that and I didn't think anyone would pick up on it.

I underestimated you, /sob

aaaaa ilu seki <3

:I Must make more gold and commission you again sometime soon...

[mayamei]

hi jiroh, hi seki!

sorry for being nose and butting into other people's fics but i can never say enough how frickin fantastically awesome your wrting is ;A; it may not have been as concise as you wanted it but I think everyword is perfect.

[French Vanilla]

Well the moment I read... "They have an unspoken understanding," I wanted to write something like this.

Since everything is conveyed in actions - the dare, the challenges, the angry and worry that he feels when she gets injurrrred. * O *

SOBBBB I really worked hard to make extra sure that their characters were right and made sense because there is so little dialogue for such an emotional moment when other couples would have talked.

[French Vanilla]

mayamei

hi jiroh, hi seki!

sorry for being nose and butting into other people's fics but i can never say enough how frickin fantastically awesome your wrting is ;A; it may not have been as concise as you wanted it but I think everyword is perfect.

//sob
MAYA you flatter meeeee.

AM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT TOO.
* /////// *


Hmmn, I really want to finish these two soon.
Well, with Damian&Gwen it should be fast cause I have been aching to write them for a while.

[Jiroh]

Hi maya! Haha, I'm nosy too then because I read all the other samples because I just cannot get enough of seki's writing it is so pretty.

seki :: /gurgle happily

Baw thank you, I added a little extra but mannn it's not enough because I want to give you more gold because it's so perfect and you are amazing.

I keep on re-reading it because it's just that good.

[Kiddlet]

I wish I was rich enough awesome enough to hang around for hours to get slots to commish Seki emo

[French Vanilla]

@ jiroh:
Save your gold for something better. * v *
But I`d love to write for you again - Ashley and Leo were fun.
They have this great dynamic... uhmn, it reminds me of silent electricity.
All ... sparking and there and sharp at the edges, but intimate and wholly theirs and theirs alone.

BABY YOU DID NOT NEED TO TIP ME. @ O @ !!!

[French Vanilla]

Kiddlet

I wish I was rich enough awesome enough to hang around for hours to get slots to commish Seki emo

Kiddlet, don't lie!
You are totally awesome enough. <3

[mayamei]

seki~ you're so cute teehee /ruffles hair

good luck!

jiroh~ ikr *w* /needs more

lol kid!
i forget, are seki's slots first come first serve or what? surprised

[Kiddlet]

surprised

I dunno, are they ?

I just never stick around long enough to fight for slots. I'm really lazy, secretly, and I never win at those games.

[French Vanilla]

@ maya:
usually I accept when I see an offer I like, but
this time I think I am going to make it all...
"make offers and seki will choose in a while"
kind of thing.

[Jiroh]

seki :: Yes, I didddd. Because I have no other way to express how great you are and how much I think it is the most awesome thing written about them ever. T AT

Though I'm glad to hear you say that because I do want to commish you again sometime! <3

Um. Though I'm wondering if seki would like to trade sometime even though I know my art is kind of silly but your characters are so adorable I think it'd be fun to actually do a finished piece or something. OTL' And I would not at all be insulted if you prefer gold.

EH NEVERMIND it is a lame idea. > ///<' /runs away

[mayamei]

osm seki *w*b
now i don't have to stalk every minute OTL;; bbl! <3

[French Vanilla]

Lutearina

Haha, okie-dokie. C:

[by the way, this is Gwen's photobucket so you know what she looks like. xD~ )]


One bright and sunny day, a chipper(?) 16/17 year old apprentice aesthetician moved into the castle by the name of Gwendolen Vane! Gwen was ecstatic to be hand-chosen as the Queen's new personal aesthetician, which meant she would be in charge of general castle appearances as well. As she was having her first meeting with the Queen, whom she very much liked, a bratty looking boy her age walked into the hall and gave her a dirty look! She, in an affronted tone, introduced herself as the new aesthetician. His reply was "Oh, the laundry girl." So he returns to the room from whence he came with a box of shirts which he commands her to fix for him! She is much too stupefied by his blatant idiocy that she stands there in silence as he off-handedly remarks that for a laundry girl, her hair is awful! She is offended, as she has always been rather vain when it comes to her blonde hair. Nevertheless, she can't take criticism lightly and bleaches her hair white some time later and adds pink streaks. (She never does find out if he approves.)

Gwen indignantly inquires as to who that prissy boy was! The Queen apologizes and explains that this is her son. Gwen does not believe the two are related.

ANYWAY, a few days later, she seeks out the mystery offender, box of shirts in tow. He smirks and asks why it took laundry girl so long!

Gwen, playing cool as cucumber, dumps a box of shredded white fabric on the boy's head with the statement "I believe that you'll find they have a special cut."

After which she takes her leave. She is quite satisfied. : D

The boy is seething and very, very intrigued at the audacity of laundry girl.

AND THUS THE ODD RELATIONSHIP OF PRISSY BOY AND LAUNDRY GIRL BEGINS.



(A-and at 27 she still has one of his shirts in her closet. omg emo. ;A; He had a habit of making up excuses to go and have his clothes...fixed. Uh-huhhh. Sometimes he left them herpp
Rhia's going through her closet because Gwen's dressing her up for something or other and she sees it and is all "Hmm, this looks like a man's shirt" and sees the monogram on the tag and is all wut? And Gwen freaks and goes NOOO THAT'S A CLIENT'S AND I'M JUST HOLDING ONTO IT YEAH NOPE OBVIOUSLY NOT MINE AHAHA~

riiight.)

SOB AM SORRY LUTE. seki is starting to feel a bit drained.
will return and tweak it later with revisions.

This is the last time they will be... whatever they are. Gwen is the only one who knows how to make him scream, ( where to touch, where to linger, where to pull his heartstrings and tie them around her fingers ), how to slip into his blood like blue mercury; she knows him at his weakest and at his worst, so he is absolutely insane to keep her alive, but he does. He stumbles into her and she stares for a moment, a blankness filling her eyes and echoing the blankness he feels inside. She is good at that, his Gwen (she would cringe to know how he thinks of her, his smart, irritating laundry girl), and he had forgotten how good until the second she opens her mouth and says, "What idiot thing have you done now?"

He should slap her for her insolence, but the act is done, finally done, after years of nebulous planning and corruption, the last step is taken and he cannot take it back. It gives him a strange and twisted sort of joy. Damian slips out of his shirt elegantly, gracefully, like a serpent shedding its skin, and tosses it at her. She catches it the way he knows she will and holds it at a distance. He memorizes how the blood, still too warm to congeal, grazes her hands and her face, how the bright spots of red look on the rise of her cheek. She is used to catching his dirty shirts by now and she regards it with a sort of amused disgust. "Nothing," he says, "Nothing I haven't done before." Because he has done it before.

Damian has been imagining how to slaughter his parents for a long time now. There are various alternatives - he has pictured drowning them, the logistics of poisoning them (both abruptly and slowly, savoring the different feels of their betrayal and watching them slowly slip away, clueless), but eventually the thrill of just shoving a knife up the ribcage into the thick muscle of the heart won over the rest.

"One of these days, Damian, you will regret it," she warns. It is ominous even though her tone is light. She means that he is reckless and brash and hopefully time will mature him into something dark, but great, like a fine wine.

"I don't think so."



He sleeps restlessly most nights now. Damian tosses and turns and not even the meticulous way he combs through each scene in his head - how his brother will grow in the shadow of his hatred, how the kingdom will fall under the rust and infection of doubt - comforts him the way she used to. They never speak anymore, not since she had discovered the reason behind that last bloody shirt, but he finds that her face fills the darkness behind his eyelids at the most inopportune times. Usually, he is very good at ignoring her (at ignoring the Gwen that lurks in his heart, in the absent ache besides him at night), but he can't shake her completely no matter how hard he tries.

So he draws and sketches and paints - he traces every line and curve and dimple he has committed to memory onto parchment and canvas, as if by putting her down to paper, she will fall away from the forefront of his mind. He fills his room with portraits of her, of a younger Gwen who used to smile at him, who used to make fun of his hair and push him around when he was being pompous, of the Gwen that liked him.

Damian fills his room with his memories of the woman he used to love.