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luthientinu · 2 years ago

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A Drunken Tale- Namor/K'uk'ulkan x Shuri

My gratitude goes out to @the-last-dragonfly for being a great writing buddy!!

This oneshot was inspired by Chapter 7 of the fic 'From Eden' by Tytue

Xhosa and Yucatec Maya is in bold and in italics. Flashbacks are in italics.

Shuri woke up with a groan and immediately covered her head with her palms and rubbed her temples trying to soothe the throbbing headache. Shuri hadn’t felt like this in years. She was glad the curtains were still covered but letting in weak light. To summarise she felt like shit. She heard footsteps coming her way and squinted up to see her husband and their children in tow.

“Ah! My Queen is awake! Good morning In Yakunaj. How are you feeling?” K'uk'ulkan smiled at her, keeping a tray (she assumed it was breakfast) on the bedside table and he gestured to Itzel and Aphiwe to keep the water pitcher and a little jar which contained a mystery clear liquid.

“Good morning Umama ” the twins chorused together and they sat on either side of the bed and grinned at her.

“Good morning! I am not feeling fine at all…in fact I feel absolutely terrible. What happened?” Shuri looked at K'uk'ulkan who had a smug look and the twins were trying not to grin at her.

“Eat some breakfast first and then we’ll tell you what happened. Children help your mother up.”, to which the kids promptly responded. Seated and having her breakfast, Shuri looked at the three quite suspiciously.

“What are you three up to?”

“Nothing Mama. We just wanted to see you” Itzel sweetly replied to which Aphiwe nodded quite serenely, which made Shuri even suspicious. She didn’t ask anymore questions and after breakfast K'uk'ulkan handed her the little jar, claiming it will help her with the hangover and that this has been made by the Talokanil healers.

Shuri lets out a huge sigh and dejectedly asks, “What did I do?”

“Why Itzia ? Don’t you remember yesterday’s glorious night?” Shuri gives him an apprehensive look which did not mask the panic in her eyes as she tried her very best to remember something about last night. Shuri does remember that it was the annual celebration for the alliance. She does remember dancing with her husband and oh no…

“ Umama you started flirting with Baba and in front of everyone…” Aphiwe informed her quite gleefully.

Itzel jumped in and continued, mirth shining in her brown eyes (she looks so much like K'uk'ulkan noted Shuri). “You asked whether he was single mama…” Itzel noticed the smirk on her father’s face and the mortified look on her mother’s face. “When Baba replied no you started crying..” Itzel could not stop the laughter from ringing out which immediately set off her brother and father. She swore she saw her mama’s lips curling into a smile and they all began recounting last night’s events with gusto.

It was the annual celebration held to commemorate the alliance between Wakanda and Talokan. Everything was perfectly planned to the dot and spirits were high with everyone in a celebratory mood and dressed to the nines. Shuri had spent a couple of minutes observing everyone- She was glad to see the Wakandans and the Talokanils mingling with one another. Shuri spotted Toussaint, Itzel and Aphiwe making their way to the buffet table and making a beeline towards their grandmother (Shuri had given the now sixteen-year-old twins stern warnings as not to get caught drinking). Nakia, Namora and M’Baku were engrossed in deep conversation. Shuri was slightly taken aback when she saw Attuma pull Okoye to the dance floor but it was no surprise to her. Her musings were interrupted when K'uk'ulkan insisted they too join the dancing.

“ In Reina '' he said, offering his hand to her. Shuri accepted it more than delighted, it was something she had discovered after marrying, she loves dancing with her husband and he never fails to sweep her off her feet. In moments like this she could forget every problem or royal obligation and just be herself. The couple had a great time and after a couple of dances Shuri dragged K'uk'ulkan towards the bar wanting to have a drink, knowing very well she cannot get drunk due to the herb.

Shuri makes an offhand remark to K'uk'ulkan lamenting the fact that she cannot get drunk anymore. K'uk'ulkan gives her a winning smile and begins his explanation.

“I suppose you are familiar with Pulque ?” Shuri nodded, having had the drink before. “My people after going underwater experimented with different types of ways to recreate Pulque or Chih . The brewers after much trial and error were able to create it, but it was quite different and similar at the same time. This concoction is quite potent and strong which I think may have the ability to bypass the herb. We tend not to drink too much of it and we only bring it out during important festivals and celebrations.”

“That’s amazing!” Scientist Shuri had thousands of questions but she held all of it at bay, wanting to try it out first.

“Hand a glass over Husband!”

K'uk'ulkan hands her a glass. “You need to take….” Before he could continue, Shuri grabs a glass and downs it in one go. “....small sips…”

“This is great! Where have you been hiding this all this time?” exclaimed Shuri, quite excitedly, pouring herself another glass.

“Shuri slow down…this is not going anywhere.”

“Come on K'uk'ulkan! Have a drink with me!”

Shuri is flat out drunk by the fourth drink. K'uk'ulkan is quite amused and intrigued to see this side of Shuri. He sees the lovey dovey eyes she is directing at him. Their children approach them and Itzel asks, seeing the carefree look on her mother’s face.

"Is mama drunk yuum ?”

“Why would you assume I am drunk umncinci wam ?”

“ Umama is definitely drunk Baba ”

Shuri looks at K'uk'ulkan. “My love, why don’t we…” she paused, hiccuping. “...ditch all of this'' she gestured to the room. “...including our kids and get a room. Just like before they were born.”

K'uk'ulkan choked on his drink while the kids made exclamations of disgust and covered their ears (“Eww..Mama! Please stop!!”)

He lets out a laugh. " In Yakunaj not now." Shuri gives him a pout and doe eyes which took all his willpower not to give in. Having the kids near helped ground him as he did not want to scar them for life. Itzel and Aphiwe took this as their cue to get away from their parents for now.

Shuri gets more and more flirty as the alcohol from the four glasses starts to kick in. Okoye, Attuma, Namora and Nakia approached them having been told by the twins that Shuri was drunk. At this point, Shuri was singing out his praises- how handsome and charming he is. K'uk'ulkan was trying not to laugh out loud. Attuma and K'uk'ulkan shared a smirk to which Namora sighed and face palmed herself. Shuri leaned towards Nakia and Okoye and whispered something, which made the two splutter in disbelief. “Oh Bast…she really is drunk '', muttered Okoye, looking amused.

Ignoring all those in the room, Shuri turned to K'uk'ulkan. “Are you single handsome?” K'uk'ulkan heard groans, the loudest were the twins.

“No Shuri.” he replied with a smile.

To his and the others' surprise Shuri bursts into tears. K'uk'ulkan knew that it was high time for them to retire for the night. “Alright In Yakunaj off to bed with you.” He began leading her out of the room, but failed when she began stumbling in her heels and long dress. Sighing he swept her into his arms. Shuri spots the twins sporting amused looks. She throws in another compliment at them. “I love you both my little prince and princess…mama is so proud of you.” (“We love you too umama …now please go rest”) Shuri giggles and fiddles with his cape. “See love, we make beautiful children.” K'uk'ulkan hears the amused chuckles and the embarrassed groans from the twins (“PLEASE GO TO SLEEP MAMA!! WE DON’T WANT HEAR THAT ABOUT BABA!!”)

“You’ve had quite the evening haven’t you Shuri?”

K'uk'ulkan will never forget the look of absolute mortification on Shuri’s face for the rest of his lifetime as he and the twins relayed last night’s events to her. He did not stop there and continued with a smug smile. Bastard’s enjoying himself mused Shuri to herself.

“I had to feed you dinner too Shuri because if you had slept without eating you would feel even worse and you acted like a petulant child love. Itzel and Aphiwe were not that difficult when they were small.”

“What?!” Her incredulous tone was the last straw for the kids as they howled with laughter.

“Laugh all you want my loves because I have all the videos of me and Baba feeding you when you were both toddlers…you both were extremely messy eaters. We wouldn’t want your friends accidently seeing the footage now do you?” Shuri called out, mock glaring at them. The children immediately stopped laughing but it didn’t stop them from telling Shuri about her embarrassing moments from last night. She will have to review the video footage and delete it from GRIOT’s database.

“Why mama you told everyone Baba is quite handsome and charming” (which is quite true but Shuri wanted to bury herself and never come out after seeing the smirk on K'uk'ulkan’s face).

“You also wanted to leave the celebration early and get a room.” whispered K'uk'ulkan, leaning back to observe her.

“I SAID WHAT?!”

Itzel and Aphiwe did not need to think twice to guess what he had told her and it was too much to bear as they both dissolved into laughter once more.

Shuri wanted the earth to open up and swallow her. She threw a pillow at her husband who was grinning at her and buried herself under the covers. How will she face the others? Oh Bast! Umama must have seen her acting like a complete fool and T’Challa must be having a good laugh at her expense in the ancestral realm. This will be the last time she will ever drink for Bast’s sake!

K'uk'ulkan dragged back the covers to reveal a pouting Shuri. “I am sorry In Reina but you are quite entertaining when drunk.” He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Rest up. You will feel better after some time.”

Translations

Xhosa- Used Google Translate & Translate.com

Umama- Mother

Baba- Father

Umncinci wam- My little one

Yucatec Maya- Used Microsoft Bing & Translate.com

In Yakunaj- my love

Itzia- Princess

In Reina- My Queen

Pulque (Chih)- An alcoholic beverage originated and made in Central Mexico. It's history extends to the Mesoamerican Period where it was considered sacred and limited to certain occasions and classes of people (Wikipedia)

Yuum- Father

I went on full research mode to find a alcoholic drink (when I never ever had a proper alcoholic drink lol). I selected Pulque and took some creative liberties to adjust it to suit the Talokanils. If there's a mistake please inform me about it as my only sources were websites (which I will be linking). Link 1 Link 2

Please tell me if there's any mistake with the translations. English is not our first language so please feel free to point out any errors.

Likes, Reblogs and comments are welcome!!

Posted on Ao3 and on Fanfiction.net

Previous- Surprise?- One Shot 2

Next- Meeting Mishaps- One Shot 4

Namor/K'uk'ulkan x Shuri Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#marvel cinematic universe #marvel #mcu #black panther #wakanda forever #shuri #namor #ku'kul'kan #namor x shuri #shuri x namor #namuri #sea princess #fluff #this ship has taken over my life #luthientinuwrites

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hexsrealityarchived2 · 2 years ago

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𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓, 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! feel free to add any of your answers! the purpose is to tell your partners about the way you write! for multiple choice ones, 𝐁𝐎𝐋𝐃 all that apply and, if you want, 𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒛𝒆 if it' a conditional answer!

~ 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 ~

NAME : Itzel

ARE YOU OVER 18? : yes / no .

IS YOUR MUSE? : yes / no .

ARE YOU SELECTIVE ABOUT WHO YOU WRITE WITH ON THIS BLOG? : no (anyone) / semi (most people) / yes / highly / private (mutuals only)

IF YOUR MUSE IS CANON, HOW MUCH DO YOU ADHERE TO CANON? : not at all / a little / some / mostly (i pick and choose from source material) / strictly / ( oc ) I write my own canon.

WHAT POST LENGTHS DO YOU WRITE? : one liners / single-para / multi-para / novella (It really depends on what kind of mood I’m in really, or if I’m not having a headache)

DO YOU USE ICONS AND/OR GIFS? : no / gifs / icons / gif icons

DO YOU WRITE ON OTHER PLATFORMS? : no / yes (Well sort of, I have discord, but I haven’t really written on there.)

WHAT LEVEL OF PLOTS DO YOU WRITE? : unplotted / open ended plots / semi-plotted / fully-plotted epics (I’m game for any of these really, so shoot your shots.)

HOW QUICKLY DO YOU USUALLY RESPOND TO THREADS? : very slow (more than a month) / slow (3-4 weeks) / average (1-2 weeks) / fast (less than one week) / very fast (less than three days) (Again, it really depends on my mood.)

WHAT TYPES OF THEMES DO YOU LIKE? (feel free to add ) : fluff / angst / smut / action / tragedy / domestic / family / conversational / hurt-comfort. (Give it all to me!!)

WHAT GENRES DO YOU LIKE? (feel free to add) : high fantasy / supernatural / science fiction / historical / horror / comedy / romantic / drama / action / adventure / espionage / everything

ARE THERE ANY THEMES YOU'RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH WRITING ON YOUR BLOG? (not triggers) : yes / no (absolutely no r-word role plays please!)

DO YOU HAVE ANY TRIGGERS? : yes / no (Please refer back to rules)

HOW DO YOU REQUEST IT TAGGED? : please tag it!

~ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 ~

WHAT TYPES OF RELATIONSHIPS ARE YOU OPEN TO? : romantic / platonic / familial / physical / sexual

WHAT TYPES OF PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS ARE YOU OPEN TO? : romantic / platonic / familial / physical / sexual / depends on the partner & muse.

DO YOU HAVE OTPS? : no / chemistry only / yes

DO YOU HAVE NOTPS? no / yes / I don't know

ARE YOU COMFORTABLE WRITING SMUT? : no / selectively / yes

HOW EARLY IN A RELATIONSHIP DO YOU SHIP ROMANTICALLY? : autoship / during plotting / after a couple ic interactions / several ic interactions / slow burn / depends on partner & muse

ARE YOU OPEN TO TOXIC SHIPS? : no / selectively / yes / never tried it

ARE YOU OPEN TO PROBLEMATIC SHIPS? (canon history, age difference, complicated, etc.) : no / selectively / yes (It really depends)

ARE YOU OPEN TO POLYSHIPPING? : no / selectively / yes

ARE YOU AN EXCLUSIVE SHIPPER? : no / sometimes / yes

DOES CRACK SHIPPING EVER HAPPEN? : no / sometimes / yes

DOES CROSSOVER SHIPPING EVER HAPPEN? : no / yes / depends

Tagged by: @eternalzenith (Thank you!! 🖤❤️)

Tagging: @rg4rz , @razorfst , @viperbit , @rahbid , @divineplagas , @drakonivs , @spxnglr , @viagothedandy, @hiredassault , @f1llgraves , @ppctts , @pistoiet , and you!

#଼⠀ ݁⠀✴︎〝𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 ¦ games.

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decorous-biohazart · 8 years ago

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You Did This.

Writing piece recounting one of Phoenix Nest’s most tragic events for use in a roleplay.

"We need a medic on site, south gate NOW!"

A voice yelled, the desperation and anger in the voice echoing through the camp. It came from the internals of Phoenix Nest just inside the main gate. The garage was closed, people lining the streets standing in the inches of snow lining the frostbitten ground. The white blanket and blue ice on the pavement was stained red as Dingo and Decorous shuffled through the large metal doors with someone between them. A boy, just over 18, and leaving a trail of crimson in his wake as they pulled him in to safety.

Behind them Cell and Itzel both slid inside quickly, weapons drawn and wary eyes trained on the street. The bowwoman was waving for the guard on the wall to quickly shut the gates as Dingo and Decorous escorted the boy towards a team of medics rushing through the crowd with stretcher in hand. He was pale, convulsing as his body grew colder as Dingo grasped his violently shaking hand.

"You're gonna be alright, son. Just hang in there we've got a medic on the way. At least we bloody well should WE NEED DOCTORS OUT HERE DAMMIT!" he yelled around him to any with medical practice who would listen as Megan approached hastily, her face as pale as the snow along with another nurse in tow at her side who quickly lifted the boy's shirt to assess the injury.

"What happened here?" the nurse asked, her voice thick with an unknown accent.

"Gunshot, 9mm to the side. We found him maybe two minutes after he was injured-" Decorous explained hastily before his attention was taken away by the sound of screaming from the crowd.

"GET OUT OF MY WAY, THAT'S MY SON!" a female voice shrieked as a woman charged forward almost barreling over Decorous. Her face was twisted with anguish and terror as her wiry hands took Dingo's place as he stepped back.

"Th-that's my boy." she sputtered as frozen tears streaked her cheeks. Somehow her presence alone seemed to ease the boy's fear, turning his head to look her in the eyes with a weak smile.

"H-hi mom... I-I guess I missed curfew." He joked faintly.

"Stop it, Jared, what were you thinking!?" the woman retorted, wiping the smile from his face as she doubled over with sobs, placing his hand against her forehead. "What were you thinking...?"

The boy, Jared, mirrored her despair as his lip started to quiver with the despair of his condition washing over him. "I-I'm sorry," he shivered, "I just wanted to help-"

"You put a lot of people at risk. I admire your resolve but that was very stupid of you." the nurse retorted, earning a concerned look from Megan before she went back to work washing a cloth with antiseptic.

"Megan bloody tell me is he gonna make it!?" Dingo demanded.

"I-I don't know," she stammered, "He's lost a lot of blood and sepsis is already setting in. We don't have time to get him inside we-"

"Is he going to live?" Dingo demanded again over the sobbing woman, this time Megan could only respond with a distant look in her eyes and a shake of her head. The Australian's teeth grit as his eyes shadowed beneath his hat before turning on his heel, his boots crunching in the snow as he paced towards the crowd.

"Dingo, do not-" Decorous began but was cut off as the sniper pushed passed him. The amount of resistance from Decorous was minimal almost as if he wasn't fully intent on stopping him from what he was about to do. He stepped up to a man at the front of the crowd, his hair well-kept and bushy eyebrows above his sunken in eyes, grabbing him by the collar he shoved him against a light post. A few people stepped aside with gasps and screams as Dingo locked the man's gaze with his, his ice blue eyes burning with anger.

"This was your doing. YOURS. You told that boy that he could fight on his own, that he should never rely on anyone else and you got him KILLED. DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT?" Dingo yelled, his mouth foaming as he shook the man in tandem with his lecture.

The stranger's hands were clasped around Dingo's wrist, blood staining his fingertips and shirt where Dingo held it with an iron grip. His eyes looked at his wrist for a moment before stepping back and releasing the man's collar.

"Look at you. Look at your hands. His blood is all over them. Just like mine," he said almost taunting as he raised his own hands in front of him. "But I stained mine just like those nurses and his grieving mother trying to save him, yours are stained like you were holding the gun that shot him. You filled his head with dreams built on being the wrong man."

"That's not fair! I showed him how stupid following you blind idiots was! I taught him to how stand on his own two feet-!" the man argued.

"AND NOW HE'LL DIE ON HIS BACK." Dingo snapped back as if he could spit acid. "He'll die believing the lie his father put in him before he could find out what it meant to be his own man. Following your ideals and your beliefs before he could find his own. You told him to stay inside and give up on what he believed in and now he's dying for it."

The man had tears in his eyes but his face was red with rage, his eyes darting all over Dingo as if he was looking for an angle to attack before he shrank back as Christi approached and stood at Dingo's side.

"What is the meaning of all this?" she questioned prudently.

"Miss Rheddstone, tell your subordinate to know his place! He's attacking a grieving man in his time of loss for his own ideology!" the man begged.

"He is not my subordinate," she said, her voice as cold as the concrete the man groveled on. "And he has the right to speak his mind. Especially when he is correct. You've been under investigation multiple times by the bureau for child abuse and now look at you. You would defend your actions as he lay dying instead of being at his side. You'd defend your reputation as opposed to protecting your son, because if he did not follow your word he had nothing. He died for an arrogant man that he believed was the personification of what this camp should stand for."

Christi spoke almost as if she were giving a speech, her method so condescending in the most painful way as he stood to represent the real image of a leader without even intending it. The man before her tried so much harder to demand respect for naught and she took it with such ease.

"The difference between us and you is we stop people like you. The people who destroyed our world and took lives believing it was for a righteous cause." To add to the poetry of her words, Decorous stood just beyond her.

Christi's eyes remained unwavering as she crouched staring into the eyes of the man as the bloodcurdling cry from Jared's mother echoed off the camp walls. She sobbed with utter despair into her now deceased son's chest.

"I'm sure you'll forgive yourself within minutes because you believe what your son did was worth being proud of yourself for, but she never will forgive you for any of this," Christi said as she stood to her feet. "Now you can walk yourself to the holding chambers and answer for your part in this murder investigation or I can have the two men who were more of a father figure to that boy in his last minutes than you ever were take you by force. But whatever occurs between then and now is out of my jurisdiction and off the record."

As the cries of the mother continued to echo the man's eyes and continued darting between the Administrator and marksman before scanning the crowd as they all stared with disapproval and malice.

"What are you all looking at!?" he yelled, pulling himself up with the pole, using it to steady himself. "That was my son too, and believe it or not I loved him! He had more conviction than all of you useless bastards! Say what you want, but I will stand by my choices! I did my job, and that boy lost his way and chose to follow his own uninformed convictions! You killed my son! All of you!" The man howled, the veins in his neck bulging with his hoarse voice as he pushed his way through the crowd; yelling obscenities as he left. The woman in the military cap stepped up next to Decorous, giving him a tap on the shoulder.

"Rubies, we should get going and find the guy who did this. If we're quick we can pick up his trail." In the same moment a shot rang out and the crowd dispersed, the few remaining opening up a path as they turned to look at the source of the sound.

A Merc, one clad in body armor and a helmet marked with 'SECURITY' stepped backwards as the father of the boy stumbled with his hands clutching his chest, choking as blood spilled from his mouth before he stumbled into a snow drift. His eyes staring distantly as the life left his body and red stained the ground.

"I had no choice, he attacked me!" the man claimed, a few mumbles from the distraught crowd confirming his story as Decorous stared at the now unfolding massacre.

"We've no one to find, Itzel." Decorous said to his partner.

"The one responsible just paid his dues."

#Writing Exercise #Decorous #Itzel #Dingo #Christi #Cell #Megan #Writing #Musing #OC #RP

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most-beautiful-red-rose · 3 years ago

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Mun: Alright only a few people know this but the name is Cassie I am 29 (not til June 25th) I currently work full time and go to school to get my general ed done to hopefully transfer to a university to get my degree in library science in other words to work in a library. I am also taken by the wonderful @jayd690999 so traveling back and forth recently to see him and vice versa. I made this blog originally as a Mexico OC, but sadly my hetalia fandom is kind of gone lol. Now she is more of an OC that can be put into any fandom. I only know a bit of Spanish and currently taking to hopefully help me gain the ability to speak it again so please don’t come for me about my muse being from Mexico and she doesn’t really speak Spanish. Sorry in advance and I love how she is.

Rules: I am not comfortable doing rps or smut with anyone under 20+. So please no minors. Message me and ask me what I am comfortable doing when it comes to smut such as kinks. Any type of fluff, angst, gore (to a certain extent) romance, platonic type of rps I am perfectly fine with. I normally go with the flow when it comes to rps and if our characters become more than friends that is fine. Or you can message me and we can plot some ideas. Also I am a multishipping maniac lol. Just ask and I might say yes to our muses being in a relationship. :)

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evalinkatrineberg · 5 years ago

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Unexpected

A/N: Yet another RP with @arin-schreave :)

Life had gone back to normal for the most part since I had left Clemence’s room four nights ago. I had settled back into my routine as if nothing had happened. Wake up early, run, shower, breakfast, read, lunch, study, dinner, relax - wash, rinse, repeat. The monotony of it all was kind of comforting. It wasn’t that I hadn’t enjoyed the ever-changing atmosphere of the palace at all since getting here, but there was a familiarity about having time to myself, to get done what I needed to do. To think.

I had a good bit of thinking to do, and yet, here I was, procrastinating on thinking by working on some summer readings for my fall classes. I had gotten the go-ahead from all of the professors of the classes I had planned on taking to complete their classes online for as long as I was away. The only issue that had arisen was the laboratory portion of my biochemistry class, but the professor had informed me that she was going to reach out to Proctor and see if she could get the lab work I had done under Proctor’s supervision to count for the lab work I was missing out on while I was here. I had thanked my professor profusely for offering to do so, though I didn’t have high hopes that she would succeed. I hadn’t spoken to Proctor since leaving, hadn’t even heard her name since my last phone call with Lukas, but from what I had gathered, she was still rather unhappy with my decision to come here, as well as my decision not to assist her in reaching her non-academic pursuits.

That was one of the things I was trying not to think about. The other was the proposal that each of the Selected were going to have to submit by the end of the week. I had a topic, thanks to my conversations with Itzel and Safiya in the gardens not too long ago, but I wasn’t content with the feasibility of my proposed plan yet. I would’ve felt more comfortable if I could somehow have gotten access to the royal budget, just to see the numbers, but there was no way that was happening. It was for good reason, but at the same time, it was a mild inconvenience. I didn’t want to look like a fool if there weren’t nearly enough funds for my proposal. There was also the fact that I wasn’t sure my proposal was nearly as impactful as it could be. Again, having access to official numbers would have helped me to conceptualize it a bit, but I’d have to go without, I was afraid.

I put down the black pen I had been using, switching to an indigo color to signify a different carboxyl group in my notes as the next song started to play through my earbuds. The light, airy tones of a violin floated through my ears as I finished writing, looking down at the page in front of me. I took great pride in my notes. They were like an art form for me - a way to express myself and organize my thoughts on one neat, lined sheet of paper. My siblings had always joked that I could sell my notes for money, and maybe they had a point - the extra money would also certainly help fuel my caffeine addiction, I was sure - but I didn’t plan on ever following through with it. They were my notes, after all. I was the one who had put in the time and effort. Yet, it was nice to know that other people saw and appreciated that.

I smiled down at my notebook, satisfied at the quality of my work so far today, before sitting up and twisting in my chair, cracking my back. Only fifteen more pages to go by the end of the week! Done with stretching, I reached over for my water bottle, finally looking at the library around me as I took a sip. It was empty, for the most part. The majority of the people living here must have decided to take advantage of the nice weather and spend some time outside. I couldn’t blame them, but I had work to get done, and the peace and quiet was a welcome change.

My eyes narrowed as I looked to my right. I wasn’t alone, after all. There was Arin, emerging from the stacks with a book in hand. His footsteps were light - almost silent - as he walked towards the door, like he didn’t want to be seen.

I frowned. Would it be worth it to say anything? What good would come of it? If he didn’t want to be bothered, me saying anything would likely just put him in a bad mood, and yet, that possibility in and of itself sounded kind of entertaining to me. He had made it pretty clear when we had last spoken that he didn’t want us Selected girls here, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy myself while I was here.

I took out one earbud, intent on keeping my voice quiet, as we were in a library, after all. “Hello.”

His shoulders tensed up at the sound of my voice, despite my low volume. Did he think someone was going to attack him in the library, or something? Why would a potential attacker even greet him to begin with? Any good assassin would stab first and ask questions later, in my opinion. It only seemed rational.

His shoulders fell as he looked over his shoulder and caught sight of me. “Hi, Evalin.”

His startled expression set me laughing for a brief moment. I’d never seen him caught off guard like this, even when I had literally collided with him in the hallway. It was kind of refreshing, actually - like it made him more human, somehow.

Composing myself once again, I paused my music and took out my remaining earbud, gesturing with my free hand towards the book he was holding. “Doing some light reading?”

He paused for a moment, sizing me up with his eyes, as if he was debating whether or not to respond. I had to admit, that stung a little bit. After a few seconds, though, he lifted the book he was holding, waving it through the air in a small motion. “A bit.”

“Anything in particular?” I put one of my pens in the spine of my textbook, which was sitting open on the table, to mark the page. I could come back to biochemistry later, I supposed. Turning to face him, I swung my legs towards the side of my chair, crossing my left leg over my right.

He hesitated for a second, but then took a few steps towards me. Why was he acting so cautiously? Is he afraid of me? The thought almost had me laughing again, but maybe I was on to something. I could understand if he might think that I was upset over what he had disclosed to me in the hallway when we had last seen each other.

That was one of the other things I had been trying not to think about.

“Systems of Necessary Authority and Power by Ian Mondeli,” he answered, glancing down at the book in his hands.

“Ah, I see,” I replied, nodding slowly and pursing my lips. The name of the book was familiar, though I was certain I had never read it. It sounded like something off of the syllabus of a political science course, but I had never taken one, so I didn’t know for certain. Sure, we had to take two social science classes as a general education requirement at my university, but I had elected to fulfill that requirement with history courses. History was almost straight memorization, which I could do well. Plus, it was more interesting to me than most other social sciences, and didn’t encourage the same level of introspection as a course like psychology.

Still, maybe I could use this as a talking point. I had been telling the truth when I had told Arin that I would like to get to know him better. “Are you a fan of nonfiction, then?”

He nodded slowly, taking a few more steps towards the table. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Me too,” I responded with a sheepish smile. I enjoyed some fiction, sure, but even as a kid, I would beg my father to buy me books about topics such as dinosaurs or marine animals, instead of just reading one of the many fiction novels my siblings had offered me. Political science was quite different from dinosaurs, though, I mused as I glanced back at my notebook for a moment. Maybe he did have an interest in other topics, though. The only way to find out was to ask. “Though I assume you tend to stick to the social sciences?” I looked up at him, inclining my head slightly to the right, bracing my right arm on the back of my wooden chair.

“It depends. It’s good to know about different subjects.” He set the book on the table, taking care to make sure that it didn’t make any noise, and that the edge of the book was perfectly lined with up with the edge of the table. It was oddly particular. So he likes things done a certain way, then. Maybe.

The fact that he had other interests outside of political science and its related fields shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did. He was human, after all. It was only natural for him to have a wide variety of interests and hobbies. However, every time I had inquired as to what his other interests might be, he had brushed me off. I hummed thoughtfully, looking at the book and wondering if this might be my chance to finally get to know something more about what he was interested in. I turned my gaze upwards, meeting his eyes once again. “Such as?”

He shrugged. “Anything. Everything.”

Okay, so, my mission had been unsuccessful after all.

I rolled my eyes at his non-answer, still smiling at him, though. Maybe a joke would work, then. “Mm, somehow, I have a hard time picturing you reading about math.” I picked up one of my other pens, tapping it lightly against my chin as I attempted to imagine him reading Fermat’s Last Theorem. The mental image fizzled out before it ever focused, though, like even my subconscious knew there was no way it would happen.

“Well, it’s a graduation requirement at all schools, so…” he trailed off, rocking back and forth on his heels.

So he actually did his assigned readings, then. I raised my eyebrows at him, before I realized that him doing the readings for classes made a good deal of sense, assuming he did actually enjoy reading nonfiction. Course syllabi must be like a free list of book recommendations to him, then.

“True, but most math classes tend to focus on problem solving instead of theory. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course! It’s a useful skill.” And problem sets are more fun than memorizing theories, anyway. My eyes were drawn once again to the book he had set down on the table, and my curiosity got the better of me. “Dare I ask what that’s about?”

He hesitated once again, looking down at the book as he answered. “It’s about the caste system.”

Ah, so maybe that was why he hadn’t wanted to be seen then. What was he doing reading about the caste system, anyway? Proctor’s parting comments to me nagged at the back of my mind, but I tried my best to mute them, raising my eyebrows a bit at him. “Oh, neat!”

I probably sounded way too intrigued for my own good. I was tempted to explain myself, but I nixed the idea, deciding it was better to stay quiet. How many times had my mouth gotten me into awkward conversations since I had been here? I had lost count.

He didn’t seem to notice or care, though, simply nodding as he shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing over at my books. “What are you reading?”

Ah, that. I laughed once lightly, my head angled down as my eyes peered upwards at him. “My biochem textbook.” God, it sounded so lame. Who read textbooks - besides me, apparently? “Pretty dry content, I’m afraid.” I bit my lip, more curious as to why he was reading out the caste system than I was willing to explain glycolysis to him. My own curiosity began to mingle with Proctor’s words in my mind, but still I kept my mouth shut. It was too dangerous of a topic. I shouldn’t.

“Ah, well, you’ve got me there.” He nodded again, a slight frown forming on his face as he continued to look at the textbook.

I nodded once. I couldn’t take the awkwardness of this conversation anymore. If it was going to be tense, I might was well make sure my own yearning to know more was satisfied, for the sake of me being able to sleep at night without the questions lingering in my mind. I gestured towards his book, asking, “So, what made you choose that book in particular?” An innocent question. Nothing more. Nothing treasonous about it. Yet, I could feel my heartbeat picking up.

His gaze shifted from my book to his as he considered my question for a moment. “The author has some very interesting opinions - but I’ve read it already.”

“Interesting,” I mumbled under my breath, furrowing my brows as I studied the cover of the book again, making a mental note to look into reading it at some point. It looked pretty innocuous - plain cover, typical fancy lettering - and yet the book seemed to give off a sinister air. I had to be imagining it.

I looked back up at him again, smiling. “It’s nice to re-read books sometimes - to look at them again with a different perspective.”

“Yeah, it can be,” he answered with a nod, watching me for a moment before looking away.

Don’t think I didn’t notice that, Arin.

I followed his gaze, narrowing my eyes slightly as I turned my head. I had been expecting to see someone else coming our way, or at the very least, something of interest, but the library appeared to be empty, besides the two of us. What was he looking at then?

I felt his stare on me once again, and looked back at him in time to see him blink once. Right, it’s my turn to speak. “So,” I began in a ploy to buy myself some time to think of something to say, of what direction to take this conversation in. Clearing my throat, I considered my options. The caste system or biochem appeared to be my only two choices, judging off of what was on the table. Biochem was familiar to me. I didn’t need to hear his opinion on that. I brushed my hand over my notebook and looked back up at him, my mind made up. What was life without a little risk, anyway?

Less stressful.

“Do you ever wonder why the caste system formed in Illea, but not in other countries?” Was this too far? No, calm down! I looked down and shook my head, as if I could knock my fear right out of my brain. It was clearly something he was interested in, which should make it fair game. “I mean, maybe it’s only crossed my mind because my grandparents are from Swendway, and they’ve never really understood it, but…” I trailed off, unsure of where I had even planned on going with this.

He sighed, and immediately something in my chest fell. Maybe he hadn’t been that interested in it after all. However, he then came around to the edge of the table, leaning back on it as if he wanted to take a seat without fully sitting down. Looking down at me, he stated, “It’s a complicated issue.”

“Right.” Was he talking down to me? Bold of him to assume that I was incapable of wrapping my head around anything that wasn’t a science. I avoided social sciences and humanities because other topics interested me more, not because I couldn’t comprehend them. I looked up at him, tapping my pen against my chin again one more time. “I’ve gathered that much from the history courses I’ve taken.”

His head tilted towards the side as he watched me, considering what I had just said to him. “And what did they teach you? Other than that it’s complicated.”

I looked to the side, trying to dredge up as many details as I could from my memory before looking at him again. “I know it started after the first war with New Asia.” I could remember nothing after that, though, and not because I had forgotten it - I was sure of that much. I frowned. “Professors never really explained much beyond that. They were always pretty vague about it. To be honest, I don’t even know how my grandparents were -” I searched for the right word “- assigned, I suppose, their caste when they immigrated here. I would assume it was based on occupation, but…” I didn’t want to finish my sentence. Maybe he had been right - not in talking down to me, but in recognizing that this really was something I knew very little about.

Maybe I should’ve listened to Proctor a little more closely.

The thought sent chills down my spine.

He raised his eyebrows at me, unfazed by any visceral reaction I may have had to my own thoughts. “Well, we have a lot of good history books in here.”

I hesitated for a moment. Between him and Reggie, I might just have hit the book recommendation jackpot. “Can you recommend a few?”

He peered over at my textbook as he nodded. “If you want.”

“That would be great thank you. Of the social sciences, history was always my favorite.” I was still looking at him, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention at all, completely enamored by whatever had caught his attention in my textbook. Surely he wasn’t that interested in protein synthesis.

He nodded once more at my words, squinting at the small font of my textbook. Was that genuine curiosity I saw on his face? I followed his line of sight, trying to figure out what part, in particular, he was reading. Did he find my biochem textbook more interesting than me? I wanted to laugh, but I cleared my throat instead. “If you want, the notes I’ve taken might make more sense than the book itself.” I gestured to my notebook, my color-coded molecule drawings seeming to smile back at me, surrounded by little blurbs of text with the necessary facts and formulas, any words that required definitions highlighted.

“I’d…” he paused, looking at me and frowning a little, “appreciate that.”

Well, it was something. I pushed my notebook in his direction, offering him a small smile as I did. This was certainly not how I had ever pictured my note-taking skills coming in handy. My siblings were going to have a field day with this one.

He picked it up gingerly, as if it might break under his touch. Good. I had worked hard on those notes. He had better not wreck them. I watched as he began to read, a look of genuine interest plastered on his face. We sat like that for a few minutes, him flipping through the pages and me just watching him do so, until he eventually paused on one. Turning the page to face me, he pointed to one of the drawings and asked, “What does this mean?”

Well, this was my time to shine! I took a quick glance at the diagram he had pointed to, my smile growing immediately. “Oh, okay, so that parts about DNA mutations! This is actually related to what I used to work on in the lab.” This could not be more perfect! I began to explain each diagram, pointing to them one-by-one in turn. “That first one is insertion or deletion, which is basically when one or more nucleotides are added or subtracted within a sequence of dna. The second one is point mutation, which is one when nucleotide is changed - like if an adenine turned into a thymine. The third is translocation, which is the movement of one segment of dna from one chromosome to another. That last one at the bottom of the page is inversion, which is essentially just a 180 degree flip of the DNA, so it’s basically reversed to what it was originally.”

He blinked, and I could see through his eyes that the wheels within his brain were turning in overdrive as he tried to process what I had just said. “You’re really smart.”

I looked down at the table, my face turning red as I tried to keep myself from laughing at his oh-so-intelligent response. Fidgeting with my hands in my lap, I waited until I was sure I could speak without snickering, and then looked up again, offering him a smile. “Thank you.”

He turned back to my notebook, continuing to read through the pages. I couldn’t help but wonder what in particular he found so interesting. He seemed a tad confused by the science, so was it the notes themselves then? Did he like my handwriting, or maybe the care I put into each page of notes? My organizational skills were definitely on good display, at the moment. Maybe he was impressed with that. God, I wished I could read his mind as I peered over at each page he scanned over, my focus alternating between that and his face, searching for any sign of recognition or questioning.

“Aren’t you usually the one who asks me why I’m staring?” Ah, crap, he had caught me. He was looking right at me, in fact.

“Yes, I am.” I let out a breathy laugh, feeling the tips of my ears turn red. “I’m just a little surprised that you’re interested in this, is all.”

“Why's that?” There was no malice in his words or face, just genuine curiosity.

I frowned as I considered his question. “I guess it’s just never come up before. Plus, most people I try to explain this to tend to blank out once I start talking - you know -” I began to gesture with my hands as I spoke “- the whole, blank face, glazed-over eyes look.” I laughed lightly, even though the more I thought about it, the more upsetting the truth became to me. Most people just didn’t care to hear what I had to say on the topic. With people outside of my major, the complaint was that I was showing off, or that I made no sense. When dealing with other biology students, I found that I was very rarely taken seriously, or had to justify every thought and idea I voiced aloud, and at that point, everybody had already moved on to some other task.

He ran his fingers over a line of words I had written. The gesture felt intimate somehow, and had my stomach doing cartwheels, as if he was touching my arm or something, instead of only my notebook. Why? “And did I do that?”

“No, not at all.”

He blinked, his eyes widening for a fragment of a second. “Well then, maybe I'm not as bad at acting as everyone said, because I didn't understand a word.”

Oh. Ouch.

I laughed it off, trying to rationalize what I had seen from him with what he had felt. “Understanding and listening with interest are two different things, and the fact that you didn’t understand probably reflects more on my poor teaching skills than anything else.”

“Evalin.” I could’ve sworn my name was accompanied with a sigh. He looked over at his book, and then back at me.

I looked right back at him. “Yes?”

He opened his mouth, words on the tip of his tongue, when my notebook slipped out from his hands, tumbling across the floor.

“Smooth,” I teased, laughing at him as I stood up. Within the span of a few seconds, I had walked over to it and picked it up, my eyes on his as I made the walk back to my chair. “You were saying?”

“Thank you,” was all he said as he took the notebook from my hands. Not done with it yet, then. Interesting. Before I could retake my seat, he added, “You didn’t do a bad job.”

“Oh.” The corners of my lips tugged upwards in a small smile. That was oddly nice of him to say. My thoughts lingered on it as I smoothed out my dress beneath me, taking my seat again and recrossing my legs before looking back up at him. “Thank you.”

He stared at me again, his expression similar to the one that had frustrated me with its elusive meaning every other time we had interacted, but there was a little something more to this one. It was as if he was seeing me for the first time - all of me. It was like I was finally more than just an unwanted guest in his home, more than just some girl invited here for the sake of tradition, from his point of view. I followed his eyes as they moved from my hair, to my own eyes, and then down towards something a little lower on my face.

My lips? Oh, God.

Suddenly I was fifteen years old again, sneaking my brother Gabriel’s friend out to our backyard, leading him behind the oak tree by the shed, and asking him to kiss me. He had been my first kiss. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but it really hadn’t been a very good kiss. It had been sloppy, and rushed, but absolutely exhilarating at the same time. It was a part of my teenage years that I’d always looked back on with nostalgia.

I was eighteen years old again, attending my first college party, a little tipsy for the first time ever, the warm August air mingling with the heat of the bodies around me. June and I had moved to the back deck of the house, an empty beer bottle in her hand. A few people followed us, including a few rather attractive boys. I spun the bottle. I lost track of how many times I had kissed and been kissed that night, more drunk off the rush of someone else’s lips on mine than on actual alcoholic beverages.

I was nineteen years old again, at a Christmas party in the lab. Lukas and I had walked in together, as we almost always did. Someone had hung a piece of mistletoe over the doorway - a trap laid just for us, I was almost entirely certain. “Kiss!” they all yelled at us. Lukas had shrugged, his eyes fixed only on my lips as he had closed the distance between us faster than I could even think. I had allowed him a little peck on the lips before I had jerked away. I had felt nothing, except embarrassment. It had meant nothing to me. I had never told anybody about it.

I was twenty years old, and the prince of Illea was looking at me like he wanted to kiss me.

I tilted my head slightly to the side, smiling back at him. Maybe I was overthinking this. Maybe I wasn’t. Either way, I couldn’t get enough of the way he was looking at me. I wanted to capture this image in my mind like a photograph and hold on to it forever, a memory in a shoebox that my grandkids would find one day.

I stared into his eyes. “What is it?”

His expression didn’t change in the slightest. “What’s what?”

So we were playing this game again. I leaned forwards a bit, placing my arms on the table. “Nothing,” I answered, shaking my head, my smile growing every so slightly. Maybe I had been imagining it, but I still wasn’t so sure of that.

“You’re staring at me.”

Indeed. I raised an eyebrow at him, retorting, “You’re staring at me, too.”

“Am I?”

Very much so. “You are,” I informed him, chuckling lightly and nodding once.

“You don’t seem annoyed by it this time,” he mused, his eyes still on my face.

I had to laugh a little at that. “A very astute observation. Are you bothered by it?”

“Hmm?” He moved a little closer, clearly at least a little spaced out.

He was staring at my lips again.

“You’re hopeless,” I informed him, chuckling. Clemence had been right when she’d said as much, but I didn’t think she had quite pictured this scenario when she had called Arin hopeless.

“About?” His eyes met mine again.

Now I was the one looking at his lips, my one-track mind useless as all of my brain power was channeled into imagining what it might be like to kiss him. I had a gut feeling he’d be a good kisser. Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was the look of his lips, or maybe it was my own naivety that led me to believe that - I didn’t care. I had to conduct an experiment to draw a conclusion on the matter, if he would let me.

I laughed, meeting his eyes again. “Are you going to make your move, or are we just going to sit here?”

His eyes went wide at that, his mouth fluttering open and closed like a fish out of water. “Evalin, I -” He didn’t finish the thought. Fuck, maybe I had read the situation wrong.

I raised an eyebrow at him, still smiling. All my doubts dissipated as he leaned in closer, keeping his eyes on mine for only a moment before looking at my mouth once again. The anticipation was killing me, but I refused to be the one to make the first move. I had to know that he wanted to do this, to kiss me, not just to be kissed by the first girl he had happened to run into. God, did I want him to kiss me, though. I leaned in a bit, my eyes focusing only on his mouth as the distance between us shrunk with each passing heartbeat. So close. So fricking close.

He finally closed the distance, leaning down and planting his lips on mine as he placed one of his hands on the back of my head, the other still braced against the table. His lips were just as soft as I had imagined them to be. The realization filled me with no small amount of satisfaction, but that was washed away as I closed my eyes, kissing him back, moving my hands to his shoulders, my fingers resting against his back. My mind shut down, my body going on autopilot for moments that seemed to last an eternity in the best way possible.

He pulled away first, lingering for a few seconds before leaning back a bit. I opened my eyes to see him staring at me breathlessly, a smile growing on my own face as I watched him in return. I knew my own breathing was a little heavier than normal, but I didn’t care. That - that kiss - had been amazing, indescribable, really. It had left me at a complete loss for words, my mind still empty as we held each other’s gazes.

This. This had been what I hoped for when I had filled out the application for the Selection.

I had never been more glad that I had.

He leaned back a little further, opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t yet form the words. “I-”

I exhaled lightly, my smile only growing. “Yeah.”

We sat like that for a few more minutes, simply drinking in the sight of each other, attempting to reboot our own brains and form a coherent sentence. I had never been great with words, but they had never been this elusive, either.

I leaned back now, the gears in my brain turning once more. “I, uh…” I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did.

“I should have asked,” he stated with a frown, leaning back even more.

I wanted to agree, but I had also clearly invited him to kiss me. Or at least, I had thought I was pretty clear. I shook my head. “No, it…” He’s right, though. He should have asked. “Don’t worry. Sorry if I didn’t make it clear enough that I was okay with it.”

“Don't apologize.” Right, we had talked about that a few night ago. Now it was his turn to shake his head.

“Right, well…” I trailed off, narrowing my eyes at him as I tried to find the right words. “Don’t you apologize either, then. No apologies are warranted in this situation.” I let out a single laugh, my eyes searching his face for any clue as to what he might be thinking. Did he not enjoy it?

He kept his eyes on me for only a brief moment longer, and then pushed himself off the table, bending over to pick something up. Oh, we must have knocked something over when we were kissing. That was only mildly embarrassing. At least there was nobody else here. When he stood up, he had my notebook in his hand, which he held out in my direction wordlessly.

“Oh.” My cheeks were flushed red at this point, and a nervous laugh accompanied my words. “Thank you.”

“Here you go.”

A little late to the draw there, Arin.

“Right, thanks.” My fingertips brushed against the bare skin of his hands as I grabbed my notebook back from him, my cheeks flaring red again as I slowly pulled my arms back, pulling my notebook into my chest. What to say in a moment like this? “So, uh,” I tried, clearing my throat, “that happened. Nice.” Another nervous laugh escaped my lips before I added, “Um, we could do it again, sometime - if you want to, of course.” The words left my mouth in one rapid-fire jumble, a succession of waves quickly crashing over each other as they raced to leave my mouth.

Earth to Evalin! Get your shit together!

He looked lost in thought, but he nodded. “Yeah, sure.” He began looking around then, though for what, I had no clue.

I couldn’t control my face from falling. Had it been that bad, for him? I didn’t think that was possible. Worse, if he didn’t realize where he was, was it because he was picturing someone else, in another place, when he had kissed me? What had I done?

“Right, well,” I began, fidgeting with my hands in my lap as I looked down at the table, “I uh, didn’t mean to keep you from your reading. Though, this was a very welcome study break.”

“Evalin?”

So, he knew who I was then, at least. That was good.

I looked up at him, a small close lipped smile on my face. “Mhmm?”

His smile was nothing short of shy as he said, “Thank you.”

I blinked. “You’re welcome?” I had never been thanked for kissing somebody before. That must be a good sign, right?

He quickly stood up then, straightening his tie and walking around to the other side of the table. I followed suit, gathering up my own books and pulling my backpack out from under my chair. How many times had I run into Arin when I had this backpack on me now? Twice? Once was random, twice was a coincidence. Were we aiming for a third? I kind of hoped so.

“That was nice,” I said earnestly, looking up at him as I zipped my backpack. Then, pushing in my chair, I decided to go for it. “So, see you around, I guess?”

He nodded. “I’ll see you around.” He walked towards the door of the library then, pausing in the doorway to give me one more nod, before exiting completely.

A few seconds later, I left as well, my thoughts still an incomprehensible, garbled mess of emotions and exclamations. Had that actually happened? I must be dreaming. Yet, if I wasn’t…

This might have just been my best day here so far.

#selectionoc

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