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minshookie · 3 years

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CEO!BTS Reaction to:

You flinching during an argument.

| !warning! | violence, unhealthy relationships, abusive relationship, yandere Bts, choking and sexual topics 18+, dubcon, oral [fem receiving & giving], strong language [Jimin has a potty mouth!!!] rough play.

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

| Requested [requests open]

A/N | the amount of time I’m taking to get these request done correctly is embarrassing i apologize. I hope you don’t mind that I turned this into a whole reaction and that it’s not fluffy...lmk if you’d like me to change it I certainly will.

Forgive me for mistakes, though this is edited.

Kim Seokjin...

“Ok well what was that out there?” He spoke ominously back turned to you. “I- we-.” Laughing at your lack of response, he cut you off. “You fucked up that’s what it was hun.”

“Come sit on the desk, I want to see you apologize for making me look like an idiot.” He spat the last part like it was disgusting on his tongue. Already in deep trouble you decided to follow directions for once.

Turing smoothly in his office chair, you could see the resentment in his eyes. “Go on.” You swallowed thickly, his angered glare drying your throat. “I’m sorry for....correcting you during today’s meeting.” He scoffed, “there was nothing to correct!”

“Jin you can’t always be right, if you took that agreement, you’d never hit anything close to pro-” “who’s the boss? Hm? Who’s name is on this desk you have your tight ass planted on?” Mistakingly you let your eyes roll out of pure annoyance.

“Well excuse me?!” He leans forward quickly out of his chair, causing you to fall opposite of him. Pens poke at your back, his name plaque digging into your arm. Evilly he grins in enjoyment. “Found your place yet?, you seem afraid...afraid I’d hit you?” Wide eyed you nod, trapped like a mouse under its predator. Every inch of confidence stripped as he glared deeply into you. “Good.” Before you could even process his statement, you were harshly distracted by his rough hand landing across your cheek. Your head turns the other way as your right cheek tingles and burns. Chuckling he grips your chin forcing you to look at him.

“Find your place, and if you’ve forgotten it, I can help you find it...just like that,anytime.”

Min Yoongi...

Watching in envy, you pushed miscellaneous papers into the shredder. What a bitch! You saw her watching Yoongi all day just waiting for him to go to his office. So she could prance in there, thong up her ass, low cut shirt...the works.

“Yah! Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” Jumping in fear , peeking down you found out what you’ve been shredding. He shoved you to the side turning off the shredder. “All those papers we needed for next week’s evaluation and review meeting...” you looked from the shredder back to him shrugging nonchalantly. Already having Somebody in your boyfriends office flirting him into hard on, the last thing you need is more work. “We’ll go fucking print some more of them.” He demanded his face stiff. Jin never liked you, maybe you’ll have Yoongi fire him.

You walked holding the last remaining sheet fully intact for reference, did Jin really think you were going to the copy room? What a dunce. Ignoring the meeting in progress light you pushed the heavy door open. “Hey y/n I’m sorry we’re in the middle of something.” You could tell he was just laughing at something a tint of red on his cheeks. Him kicking you out...this should be the other way. This hurt. “Me?” You gasped. She turned her silky hair fanning. “Y/n when we’re done I’ll come find you Alright?” She spoke a little above a whisper.“Don’t speak to me.” You glared at her walking further into the office. Obviously she’s confused about her rightful place, and Yoongi is too.

“You, get out.” She stretched her eyes looking back and forth from you to Yoongi. “Now.” “Min you can’t let her kick me out.” She scoffed, “I’ll speak to you later alright.” He smiled warmly,She got up storming from his room. “Yoongi what exactly was that?” He sat back in his chair. “A meeting.” “A meeting with what her left tit?” He closed his eyes harshly at your vulgarity. “No a meeting with your colleague about her position.” He offers the seat in front of him, gladly you take said offer.

“But what you did was uncalled for.” Laughing he leaned forward onto the table. He beacons you to follow, leaning forward you fall right into his trap upset he gripped your face making your cheeks squish. “Don’t ever come back in my office acting this way again, understood?” Nodding the best you could. “Huh? Understood?” “Yeah!” He let go leaving a ache in his wake. Before going back he reached for you again instinctively you pull back as if he was going to strike you. “Hm, I don’t treat you that harsh but I will...keep testing me.” He finished, only coming close to fix your hair.

Kim Namjoon...

Another day held the same daily routine, wake up Joon, cook breakfast, clean get dressed and head to work, work, eat lunch in Joon’s office, work,go home, and restart.

Today Joon had lunch delivered, practically throwing his money like confetti paper, much to the delight of his employees. Both of you sat on the floor of his office, enjoying the home style take out in silence. Without noticing all your attention was being absorbed by your phone. “What’s so intriguing kitten?” Your fingers stopped in their place “just texting a friend.” You looked at him through your lashes before going back to typing. He closed his take out container, he finished his meal and sneakily proceeded onto yours. Surprised by your lack of protests he spoke again.

“Oh yeah? And whose this friend?” He mumbled still chewing. “Someone I might know?” You nodded in response, unsatisfied he got up going to wash his hands in his office restroom. “Their name would be helpful y/n.” Just from his tone alone you could tell he was nearing impatience. “He works here, I’m just helping him...explaining how the log in system works he’s locked out at the moment.”

Joon no longer cared for their name and you knew it. “Oh ‘he’?” You nodded, he came drying his hands with his initialed towels. “New guy...Choi?” You looked up fully for the first time in a while. “Yeah, Soobin.” He nodded,Sitting in his desk turning to some papers. Nothing left to say you looked back down at your massages. “I’d like you to eat though, I don’t want you going hungry.” He ordered you around like a father and you obeyed.

Chewing, you almost choked as Soobin sent a joke that you weren’t ready for. Joon raised a brow, “a funny one huh? Let me see.” He looked down at you hand out flat. Your eyes went doe, there is no way your letting Joon read this vulgar joke. Soobin would be out of a job just as quick as he got one. “C’mon let me see, don’t make me take it.” Maybe he’ll laugh about it too, you gave up the device.

At first he squinted before his eyes grew wide. “ ‘This copy machine looks like the one from those cheesy office pornos....let’s make one?’ Y/N this is who you’re waisting your time on?” Rolling your eyes you went back to your meal, annoyed he didn’t find the harmless joke amusing. “Joon he was joking, it’s not like he knows I’m dating someone.”

You felt wind brush past you and a crashing sound occurred from behind, startled you made eye contact. “I had half the mind to throw that piece of shit at your head.” His angered expression taking you aback, you must’ve forgotten Joon is the extremely jealous type. “Go get it, bring it back to me.” Slowly turning trying not to take your eye off of him, you retrieved the shattered phone. Harshly he took it from your hands. Tapping before turning it to you, “block him.” You flinched at his sudden hand movement. “Don’t flinch away from me, block the bastard, before I’m the one bending you over the copy machine.”

Jung Hoseok...

Slouching in the pool chair you observed as the other women splashed and paddled around like children. You don’t usually go to these types of things, and neither does Hoseok. But this time it was important, he was here solely to kiss butt with his new business partners.

He practically forced you to put on your swimsuit, fully planning on walking you around like a show dog for the evening. Crossing your legs you brought your straw to your lips. You’d planned on getting in the pool, but apparently you weren’t good enough for the other wives...or affairs in the pool at the moment.So to spare the embarrassment you decided to watch.

“Enjoying yourself?” Hoseok came behind you patting your head softly. “Hm I guess.” You placed your drink away. “Hobi I’m ready to go. home.” You pouted, his hand still on the chair he came to your side. “Home? We’ve just got here an hour ago.” Nodding at his true statement you turned to look at him. “Yeah...and now I’m ready to go home.” Rolling his eyes he squatted to your level. “C’mon baby, go make a friend in the pool, splash around yeah?”

“No, I’m tired.” He groaned putting his head on your shoulder. “Y/n, boo don’t be a brat, you wanna go inside, wanna find a bed for you?” “Hm will you stay with me?” He looked over his shoulder, “ah Bruce wants to talk cuts and coverage a bit more, I can show you to a ro-” “nooo hobi!”

Panicking he pinched you to lower your volume. The party in the pool ceased and all eyes were on you. You’d learned how to cheat the system,It usually didn’t take much pouting from you to get your way. “c’mon get up.” He pulled me roughly by my forearm almost making you trip over your feet. He pulled you into the spacious home, up the stairs and into a hall. “Here let’s go in this room hobi.” You could tell by the look on his face hobi didn’t come to rest.

“Do you get off on making me look like an idiot?” He spoke close to your face. “Hey, I told you i wanted-” he covered your mouth with his large hand. “I don’t give a fuck what you want, now shut up and get in that fucking room.” Meekly you followed his order. “I’m sorry hobi.” “Ah I said shut up!” You stood in the middle of the decretive room, “down.” Down on your knees before him he looked down disgusted.

“Now make my cock hard so I can teach you how to use your loud ass mouth correctly.” Hesitantly you leaned forward, he groaned loudly reaching for you making you backwards in response. “Quickly, and don’t you dare run away.” He grabbed your hair, now under his full control.

Kim Taehyung...

“Mm how does it feel being my right hand lady?”

“Well seems like I’m on top of you right now.”

“I love how smart you are baby.”

Taehyung had recently promoted you to his secretary, now you can’t help but be in his office all day. Dreamily he looked up into your eyes as you straddled him. “Round 2 huh?” He huffed making you giggle, “let’s not indulge Taetae.” You nipped at the shell of his ear, he gripped your ass tightly. “What else do you have to do, I distributed your work along all the employees you’re here to have fun!”

“Well the phone has been ringing like crazy let me answer at least one call!” You climbed off, your skirt still scrunched around your waist your panties to the side. “Ahhh the baby wants to feel like a big woman go on answer.” Smiling with accomplishment, you picked up the phone. “Hello this is y/n y/l/n, answering for Kim Taehyung.” It was actually another secretary on the line you took notes as he spoke. You felt so responsible you knew Taehyung would be proud, you looked over to see his approval only to find him not there.

Confused you held conversation, until you felt something warm glide along your thigh making you Yelp. “Ah I’m sorry, Mr Lee, repeat that?” In fear you looked under your desk, mischievously Taehyung winked at you. You went back to the conversation, as he lapped your heat. You were already so sensitive you wouldn’t last a minute more of this. “Stop it please Tae.” You hissed pressing the phone to your chest. He did the opposite, penetrating you with his longest digit. Curling his finger and assaulting your clit, if the lewd sound of slurping could be heard by you you knew it could be heard over the phone. Quickly you hung up, very upset you squeezed his head between your thighs.

“Cumming baby?” “No, quitting.” He pulled back confused “what?” You fixed you panties, pulling your skirt back over yourself. “I asked you to let me do one thing, and still you couldn’t keep off of me.” He crawled from under your desk. “Who was on the phone?” He asked dryly, you looked over your notes. “Mr Lee.” “Oh, he calls everyday for his boss they have nothing to offer so we have nothing to give.” You nodded making a note to avoid his calls. “Anything else?” He shook his head going back to his desk with a deep sigh.

Oh good grief, you huffed falling back into your chair, you’ve gotten upset with him and now he’s going to mope around. “TaeTae, please understand I do actually want to work, we’ve talked about this.” You spun your chair to look at him, he looked at you inquisitively. “Maybe you should go back downstairs, I don’t want to distract you.” You could feel your eyes stretching. “Tae! No it’s not that serious.” “No no, your cubicle is still empty, the largest one.” You crossed your arms. “You’ll get the raise you just won’t be here honey...maybe I’ll offer the position to Sana.” He turned from you to go in his computer. “No, I’m not going.” “Bye Y/n see you tonight.” He mumbled nonchalantly.

“No Taehyung.” He gave a grim chuckle. “Stop being hard headed, go fetch Sana for me will you....love you.” “No kim Taehyung, this is MY job!” The phone rung and you picked it up, “hello this is-” He came pulling the phone from you slamming it to hang it up you flinched harshly. “Y/L/N, I won’t ask you agin, get out or do what I promoted you here to do.” He looked into your eyes devilishly. You complied removing your skirt, playtime was over, you sadly knew your place. “Perfect girl.”

Park Jimin...

“I’ll beat your ass come here. Now.” You stood in his office doorway, fear quaking over you. “Y/n...now.” he leaned on his desk looking you up and down. You walked in to what seemed to be your demise. “The door, close it, lock it.” “Mr Park please.” He got up walking behind you and slamming the door before walking in front of you again. “Where the fuck! Were you.” You looked at him, head fogged unsure of an answer. “I-I Mr Park...I’ve been here at work since 3 AM actually...before you got here.” He laughed lightly.

“I didn’t want your schedule, I know your damn schedule, the meeting today’s meeting.” You toyed with your fingers, “OH...oh Mr Park I forgot you needed me I’m sorry h-how did it go?” “We fucking lost the deal, the information you dug up is what we needed and you were somewhere in LaLa land.” He dug his hands into his hair. “C‘mere.” He sat on the leather couch that decorated his office. “Please Mr Park, I’ll stay late and I’ll beg for another meeting date.” He shook his head “no, c’mere.” You stood still pleading with your eyes. “I’ll drag you by your cheap blow out, bring your ass here.” You shuffled to him, he pulled your dress bending you over his knee.

He pulled your dress up, “Mr Park what will your wife say?” You began to tear up, why would he choose you to give his violent love to. “Ha, she’ll say “fuck me harder” later tonight why?” You shook your head refusing to respond. “Look into the mirror.” You obliged. He pulled his hand up just stoping before it hit you causing you to shudder a jerk violently. “ Do you fear me y/n?” You nodded almost sobbing. “I’ve trained you well...head up...be a big girl.”

Jeon Jungkook...

The whole building was draped in a gloomy mood as Jungkook stalked about looking for something to nitpick. Earlier today you and Jungkook had a falling out on the way to work about how close you were getting with one of your male coworkers. And said coworker that just happened to be your cubicle neighbor. He rounded your area multiple times, chastising said coworker, sending him on errands and putting him down again and again.

Seeing how it was affecting the newbie, you finally turned to Jungkook. “Mr Jeon, can I speak to you.” “No.” He turned quickly before going back to chastise the frightened employee. “Slip up again, and I’ll make sure you’re looking at a deep fryer for the rest of your life Kang.” He whispered just loud enough for you to catch it.

“Mr Jeon please, for a minute.” He clears his throat leaving your area. Your face grew hotter by the minute, you got up going to talk to your distraught friend. “Hey, listen he’s all bark and no bite what do you need help with?” You smiled warmly remembering how it felt to be new in a place like this.

“Well every time I answer the phone and start the question pro-” a heavy hand lands on his and your shoulder “who said this was a social hour y/l/n” a sigh came from deep inside of you. “ Damn it Kookie-” “who? Excuse me?” His eyes widening. “Jungkook- Jeon- I’m sorry...I’m sorry Mr Jeon.” He eyed the two of you “hm...kang get to work, y/l/n you too.” He began to walk away. “Y/n I’ll send you an email, I really need help on this.”

“Email her I dare you.” You spun in your chair “Mr jeon please! He’ll never get better if I don’t.” He rolled his eyes taking off his glasses, “what was he trained for if he can’t use the damn computer?” Everyone in the office was watching the dispute. “Pft I was trained on any of this! I had you holding my hand the whole way why can’t he?” He started waking the other way, his face glowing crimson. “Get in my office, now y/n.” You sat turning to your work. “No Jeon. I won’t.” “Y/n you can come to my office, or clock out and go home for the rest of the damn month.” All eyes on you like this was some cheesy tv drama, you got up following him.

Once in the safety of his four walls you stood hands on your hips “why kookie, why you being a Jackass?” He turned to face you, anger evident. Swiftly he pulled you by your shirt “talk to me like that outside of this office space the way you did today one more time, and you’ll be begging me to fire you. Yeah?” You nodded earning a open palm slap to your cheek, “yeah? Open your slutty mouth like you did for Kang, am I understood?” “Yeah kookie.” Another slap, your cheek began to burn. “Yes Mr Jeon.” He lifted his hand making you flinch in his grip. “Lovely girl, now get out there, and leave Kang alone or else.”

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toothpastecanyon · 3 years

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A Name From the Mailbox, Chapter 4

Dipper finds out the author's name before Not What He Seems. It's not the person he expected.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

“The end times?”

The ride home had been strange so far. Dipper and Mabel exchanged glances before looking back at the old man sitting between them.

“There’s a doomsday device under Gravity Falls?” Dipper made a face. “No offense, but is this, uh, like the Gobblewonker situation?”

“It’s real! Look at these gravitational readings, kid!” He gestured at a matrix of numbers on the screen. “Waves of anomalies! And once it activates - you best be holding onto something, cause you’ll start floating up!”

Soos looked back. “Whoa. That sounds pretty cool, dude.”

“It’s not cool! It’s tearing a hole in our universe!”

“Aww.”

“Okay, okay, calm down,” Dipper raised a hand. “We can shut it down, right? Where is it?”

“Ohhh… I used to know, I don’t recall!”

“Maybe it’s in that old bunker?” Mabel sat forward. “We should go back there!”

“Maybe…” He frowned. “After the Shack, yeah.”

At that moment, Soos turned into the parking lot. Mabel’s frown deepened.

“Why after?”

“We’re already here, right? It’ll just take a second.” Dipper opened the door and jumped out. He held it for McGucket, and raised an eyebrow when Mabel remained in the car. “Mabel? Come on!”

“We should find the bunker, Dipper.”

“Yeah, we will, just-”

“We should go look for the bunker, now.” Mabel crossed her arms. “We just got told there’s a big scary thing that’s gonna end the world and you still want to look for Stan stuff? He’s not gonna know about a doomsday thingy.”

“Well, we don’t know that-”

“Dipper.”

Mabel was looking at him with a very knowing expression. He took one look at it, and then sighed.

“Well… if Stan’s the Author, he’s gotta know where it’ll be, right? He probably built it.” He watched Mabel raise her eyebrows. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Because I don’t think Grunkle Stan’s the Author, Dipper.” She pulled her hands into her sleeves. “You know that, right?”

Dipper hesitated. He looked back towards the house; Soos was opening the side door. “I mean, it’s very possible. And we’re already here, we might as well-”

Mabel got out of the car and pushed past him without a word. He frowned and hurried to catch up with her.

“Come on, Mabel. Don’t be like that.” A pause. “I don’t think it’d be in the bunker anyways. We looked all over that place.”

“Hey, dude!” Soos waved him over. “What are we looking for? I forgot.”

“It’s…” Dipper glanced one more time at Mabel, then jogged forwards. “It’s a big stack of papers, it should be in the living room. Come on.”

They entered the kitchen, and Dipper suddenly froze - was Stan back? He listened for a couple seconds, but the house was silent… eerily silent. They headed into the living room and were greeted by an empty chair - and no thesis, no picture to show Fiddleford.

“Of course,” Dipper frowned. “Stan must’ve put them somewhere.”

“...What is this place?”

A strange question - he glanced over, and found McGucket looking around the room.

“Oh, it’s just our house,” he said, and then cleared his throat. “I bet he still has it somewhere. Soos, you know where he hides stuff, right?”

“Yeah… he says I’m supposed to keep them secret, though. Like the money under the squeaky step on the stairs, the arrest warrants under the rug in the gift shop…” He counted them off with his fingers. “The wallets in the Sascrotch…”

“Okay, cool, you can take the gift shop.” Dipper looked over at McGucket. “And, uh, take him too, I guess. Mabel and I- oh, you know where it might be? His office, we’ll go there.”

“Okay,” said Mabel. He cringed a bit at her tone, but continued.

“Alright, if we find it, we can meet back up. It’ll be hard to miss, it’s like a giant stack of paper, and it’ll have Stan’s picture on top.”

“Got it, dude.” Soos shot finger guns at him as he backed away. “Come on, McGucket, it’s this way.”

The two of them shuffled out of sight, and Dipper nodded to Mabel.

“Alright, let’s, uh, go.”

“Yeah, to the office.”

Mabel turned and started walking to the back. He trailed along behind her.

“Yeah, it’ll just be quick,” he said. Paused. Then: “It’s worth checking out. I mean, you saw the same stuff I saw. It’s not at least a little weird to you that he’s got a whole PhD on anomalous events even though he never-”

“Yeah, Dipper, you told me already.”

“Then why doesn’t it make sense to check it out?” He opened the door to the office. “If he’s not the author, then we can just go to the next thing, right?”

Mabel snorted. “Oh yeah, and you’re totally ready to let this go. I know you, dum dum. You’re gonna spend the rest of the summer obsessing about this, and not in a fun way. In the ‘arguing with Grunkle Stan every night’ way.”

“Well… well, it’s weird, isn’t it? Stan is hiding something.” He made a beeline for the paper shredder, and picked it up. “Look, look! This thing’s stuffed - ugh, I bet he shredded it! Now why do you think he’d do that?”

“I dunno?” Mabel poked at the paper copier. “Hey, do you remember that dance party we had? Maybe we could ask Grunkle Stan to throw another one!”

“Oh, that? Oh, that…” He started going through the papers scattered around the desk. “I remember that. I didn’t really get to spend a lot of time at it, I was, uh…”

“Trying to nerd your way into dancing with Wendy?”

“Yeah, yeah... Mabel, look!” He grabbed a piece of paper. “There’s one page he didn’t shred for some reason - and it’s the one with his picture! Yes!” He flipped it over to show her. “Look, it is him, right down to the glasses! And he’s building the Mystery Shack - tell me that’s not him!”

Mabel frowned at the photo. She started to open her mouth, but-

There was a sound. A yell. A cry. Both of them locked eyes, and without a word they ran for the gift shop.

“Are you guys okay?” Dipper said as he burst through the door. The first thing he saw was McGucket, on the floor, trembling. “McGucket?”

“I seen it!” McGucket stabbed a finger at - the vending machine? “I seen it, right down there! It’s there!”

“What’s here?” Mabel tried to help him up, but he scrambled away. “What’s wrong?”

“The machine… my mind… I’m not going down there again! You can’t make me!”

Then he bolted for the door. Soos tried to grab him, but he was gone in a flash, the door slamming shut behind him. Dipper blinked, and then looked to Soos.

“Uh… what happened?”

“I dunno, dude! One minute he was fine, I turn around and suddenly he’s freaking out!” Soos picked up a case on the counter. “He left his laptop, too.”

“Weird.” Mabel took it from him. “What do you think he saw? Dipper?”

Dipper wasn’t right beside her. He had walked a couple paces forward, towards the vending machine.

“Dipper?”

It looked normal, mundane. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d passed by this thing without sparing it a second glance. There was nothing really to draw the eye; no flashy colours, no display lights on the snacks, no attempt from Stan to dress it up as any sort of attraction. It was maybe the most normal looking thing in the gift shop, but…

He reached out. Felt the sides. There was decades’ worth of grime caught between the metal edge and the wooden wall, but as his fingers slid down, they came across something - a bump?

He looked.

A hinge.

______________________________________________________________

Shit. Shit, shit. Did he lose them?

Heart beating in his chest, Stan slowly raised himself up, and looked out the side of the van he was driving. Through the cracks in the grass, he could see lights from the highway silhouetting the trees he looked through. White lights - no red and blue, though it was harder to tell with the feds.

He grit his teeth, and forced his shoulders down. It had been quiet for a while. If they were gonna find him here, they would’ve done it by now.

“Alright, Stan,” he grunted. Opened the door. “Hard part’s done. Now I just need to get it home.”

He rubbed his forehead as he got out of the van; there was a split in it that had stopped bleeding not that long ago. He cast one look to the front, to the smoking engine crumpled into the side of a thick trunk, and limped his way to the back - past the side of the van that read ‘OFFICIAL WASTE DISPOSAL VEHICLE’ in large letters. He unlatched the rear doors, opened them, and shone a flashlight inside.

There was the shine of several metal cylinders. One of them had flown up a little in the collision and was resting sideways on the others. It looked like it had a pretty bad dent in it, but nothing looked to be leaking out; not noticeably, at least.

“Hmph.” He nodded a little. “I can work with this. Alright.”

There was a tarp and a couple construction signs thrown about the back; he covered the van, set up a few signs to keep away curious onlookers, then started off through the forest. It slow and dark, but, as he checked his watch, not dark for too much longer. The kids’d be up if he took too long, so he groaned and forced himself to walk a little faster.

Shouldn’t’ve tried to rush this job, he thought. Should’ve learned his lesson from Columbia. If the feds weren’t onto him before, they sure were now. Maybe he should get out of town for a bit, take the kids on a little road trip…

He made a face. Miss the portal opening, probably. Thirty years of work, and he might not even be there to see it pay off.

There was a tug and a ripping sound as his pantlegs brushed past a thorny bush, and he swore under his breath.

“Great. Just great.” Finally he trudged his way out onto the Shack’s parking lot. “Alright, focus. Gotta work quickly.”

Stan grabbed some supplies stashed by the outhouse and loaded them into his car. He put the seats back, started it, and drove right back to where he’d hit the trees; for once he was driving carefully, following the speed limit. Once he saw the flash of construction signs down in the forest, he turned off his headlights and drove slowly down to the van.

There, he stopped. Pulled the tarp off. The words emblazoned across the sides of the van were really gonna catch the eye of whoever found this thing; he took a can of spraypaint and quickly covered them, paused, and then replaced it with ‘PROPERTY OF TENT OF TELEPATHY’ After that, he opened the back and loaded as many drums of waste into his car that he could. When he ran out of space, he wrapped two in the tarp and tied them to the roof.

Stan tightened them one last time, and stepped back to catch his breath.

There. Now all he had to do was get home.

The sky was just barely beginning to lighten as Stan pulled back into the Mystery Shack. He pulled off his gloves as he made his way toward the gift shop, opened the door, and walked towards the vending machine.

Something did catch his eye, though. There was something on the register with a little red light; he picked it up, and immediately he could feel it was a little camera… A camera that was currently recording. Stan frowned at that, and looked up, up to the vending machine it was pointed at.

He had a bad feeling about this. And a second later when he heard a strange creak from the corner of the gift shop, he reached down, grasped the baseball bat leaning against the side of the counter, and made his way to the sound.

He stepped silently, avoiding the squeaky floorboards. There was definitely a figure in the corner, but… smaller than he was expecting. It didn’t look like an agent, actually, it looked more like…

“Kid?”

Dipper squinted when the flashlight came on. Stan breathed a sigh of relief - yup, it was just him - before a new fear started churning his stomach.

“What are you doing here kid? It’s late, you should be in bed!” He shone the flashlight lower. “Are those IDs? Did you go rooting through my room?”

“It is late. Where have you been, Grunkle Stan?”

Stan glanced back to his car. He really didn’t have time for this.

“And what happened to your face?”

“Eh… woodpecker.” Stan motioned him up. “Cmon, kid, off to bed with you. Your parents’d kill me if they found out how late you’re up.”

“Since when have you cared about how late we stay up?”

“Since right now, kid, so-“

“No!” Dipper crossed his arms, and there was a strange shine in his eyes. “What’s wrong with me sitting here? In this room?”

“Dipper.”

“You’re hiding something, aren’t you!”

“Dipper, you’re trying my patience.” He glanced back again. “Look, how about I cut you a deal. You go to bed, tomorrow we can have a proper talk about this, alright?”

“What, so you can tell me more about how you aren’t the Author?” He rose to his feet. “You know, ‘Stan’, at first I thought you weren’t telling me because you wanted to ‘protect me’ or whatever, but now I know what you’re up to. McGucket, he saw what the machine was gonna do to the world, but you kept going, didn’t you?”

“McGucket? What?”

“It’s too late to play dumb, Stan! I know what you’re really hiding. There’s a doomsday machine under the Mystery Shack!”

Stan heard that, and the first thing that came out of his mouth was a startled snort. “What?” He managed. “You spent this whole time trying to figure me out, and you came up with that?”

But the look in his eyes… wow, he was serious about this, wasn’t he?

“You really think I’m building a doomsday machine?” Stan laughed again, but it rang hollow against Dipper’s unsmiling expression. “Have a little faith in me, kid, come on. I’m not trying to end the world.”

“You’re lying.” He said, trying to puff out his chest. “And I’m not gonna let you do this. I’m gonna stop you.”

At that, Stan let out a deep sigh. He looked up at the first morning rays peeking through the blinders, and then back at his nephew.

“Go to bed, kid.”

“No. I’m gonna stay here, I’m- hey!”

In one move, Stan picked him up and hoisted him over his shoulder. He started towards the back, wincing a bit as Dipper pounded on his shoulder.

“Let me go, Grunkle Stan! Let me go!”

Up the stairs. Dipper tried to wiggle out of his grip, but he held him firmly in place.

“You’ve just proved I’m right, you know! You’re not gonna get away with this!”

Stan made his way up to the attic, opened the door, and set dipper down in the bedroom. He blocked Dipper from squeezing past him as he started swinging it closed.

“Stan!”

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow. You get some rest.” As the gap narrowed, he saw the light landing on Mabel’s bed. She almost looked asleep, but he could see her staring back at him. “Night, kids.”

Then he shut the door, turned the lock… and after a second of hesitation he dragged a chair over and slotted it under the handle. A bit extreme, he thought, but the kid was smart. Tonight wasn’t the night to take chances.

Stan backed away, and started back down the steps.

He was so close, now. So close.

And no one was going to get in his way.

Hours later, when Dipper was slumped half-asleep against the door, he grunted at a strange light. It wasn’t like the sunlight; it was strangely blue, and as he bolted up and rubbed his eyes, he could see it shining up from between the floorboards.

Then he felt… strange. Light. He yelped as his feet suddenly left the ground, and suddenly everything in their bedroom was starting to float up, up; McGucket’s laptop, slowly spinning in the air, beeped and displayed a message that made his blood go cold:

MACHINE STATUS: ACTIVE

And then suddenly the weightlessness vanished, and he dropped back down, scrambled over to the laptop.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he said, his face lit red from warning signs. “Stan, what are you doing?”

#gravity falls #toothwrites #dipper pines #mabel pines #stan pines

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mlqctranslations · 3 years

Text

Lucien 贪恋 SP Date

Reposted from my instagram account, @mlqc_translations!

Chapter 1

The inside of the traditionally styled room was warm and dry.

I changed into a yukata and sat down on the tatami, taking a deep breath as I tapped the news notification on my phone-- "The announcement of the Kelawo award list has been postponed. Can the genius scientist Lucien Xu become the youngest winner in history?" The large bolded words on the news notification were dark and obvious. ......Postponed? I paused, surprised, and then immediately tapped on the notification to find out more. "...Today, the most renowned award of the scientific realm--the Kelawo Life Science Award, is about to release their winners list. This caught many people's attention both nationally and internationally." "Scientist Professor Lucien Xu's innovative work in the neuroscience department has convinced many to clamour for his nomination." "However, according to the information disclosed, the requirements for this year has changed, and there may be strong competitors in the mix." "The Kelawo Award Committee has also recently announced that, since the opinions of the judges were divided, the release of award list will be delayed until this afternoon today..." I swiped through the news article, wrinkling my brow more and more as I scrolled down. I was so focused on my phone that I didn't notice someone walking towards me. ??: Why are you still looking at the news?

Lucien spoke as he covered my bare legs with a blanket, his gaze sweeping over the screen of my phone. Lucien: You said you invited me to go on this vacation so I could relax and forget about my work... Lucien: But you've been staring at your phone this whole time. He paused, and he looked slightly dejected and sad. Lucien: Does the Professor Lucien in the news appeal more to you than the one in real life? I was momentarily dumbfounded, and then quickly turned off my phone. MC: Of course not! I just...coincidentally came across this news article. I accidentally tapped on it. MC: And...I was mostly looking at the weather report anyways. I widened my eyes in an attempt to seem more convincing. MC: Look, it's snowing so much today. The Innkeeper even suggested that we try the hot springs another time... MC: But according to the weather report, it might stop snowing later. So we might still be able to try it out today! Lucien was silent for a second, and then let out a soft chuckle, nodding his head. Lucien: Mn, it looks like I misunderstood. I didn't think you'd be so thoughtful and considerate. MC: Of course I have to be! It's rare that we both have time off. I was looking forwards to this vacation a lot. It was the truth. In the past few days, Lucien and I were both so busy that we didn't even have time to share a meal together. That's why I chose a hot springs resort. I wanted to stay with Lucien in a room together, relaxing and spending our time with each other peacefully. I raised my head and took Lucien's hand. MC: You've been so busy with your research these past few weeks. You haven't been resting well. MC: Leave the traveling planning and arrangements to me. Your only job is to relax and enjoy the vacation. Lucien: Alright. The corners of his mouth turned up in a faint smile. The sunlight streaming through the window landed on him, coating his body in a soft glow. Lucien: Then...I'll leave it all to you? MC: Yep! Leave it to me. I glanced at the time on my phone, and an idea popped into my head. I raised my head and spoke to Lucien. MC: Since the luggage has all been unpacked and put away, you can go change now! Lucien nodded and walked towards the door. I took this opportunity to pick up my phone secretly, planning to finish reading the news article I just closed. Lucien: Oh, and one more thing. MC: W-What is it? I didn't expect Lucien to turn around and scrambled to hide the phone behind my back. Lucien's gaze flicked back and forth between the phone and my face. He seemed to have something to say, but he just gave a soft chuckle. Lucien: Nothing much, I just wanted to tell you...

Lucien: I'm also looking forwards to this vacation with you a lot.

Chapter 2

While Lucien was changing, I quietly sneaked out, waiting by the door. As expected, an attendant came walking in my direction, holding a rectangular wooden box in her hands. Attendant: Miss, the hotel owner's wife asked me to bring this to you. Attendant: As for the other package you ordered...we express our apologies. Since the product has to be made fresh, we tried to send a driver to pick it up just now, but it's snowing too heavily for them to get down the mountain. MC: That's okay. Thank you for your hard work. Please give my thanks to the owner's wife. I took the box from her and returned to the room, my heart overwhelmed with a flurry of complicated emotions. This is the gift I prepared before we even set off for the resort. I had originally planned to surprise Lucien with it when the Kelawo award results are announced. I was not expecting the award requirements to change. The Kelawo Award announcements were postponed, and my carefully devised plan was disrupted. I stared at the box in my hands, and the thought of a result that I've never expected before appeared in my mind. What if...... My heart sank. Now, I wasn't even sure if this celebration could happen at all... Lucien: What are you thinking about? I turned towards the direction of his voice, and then froze. Lucien was wearing a dark-coloured yukata. The loose collar of the clothing exposed his chest and collarbones. He leaned against the doorframe, looking more casual and relaxed compared to his normal state. His gaze found the wooden box in my hands, and I could see a hint of curiosity in his expression. Lucien: What's that? MC: Um, this...... I searched my mind for a proper explanation. Just then, his phone rang and our conversation was interrupted. Lucien looked at the glowing screen of his phone and wrinkled his brow slightly. After a brief pause, he answered the call. Lucien: Hello? Lucien: ......Yes. His tone was light, but his expression grew serious. The news article from before flashed through my head, and I couldn't help feeling a bit anxious. Lucien: My apologies, I'm on vacation right now. I'm afraid I don't have time for that. Lucien: I look forward to working with you next time. His voice was calm and soft, and he immediately hung up after that sentence. I was caught off guard by the swift action. I looked at him quizzically. Before I could say anything else, Lucien spoke up. Lucien: It's from HuanQiu News. I widened my eyes. HuanQiu News is a well-known weekly magazine in China that mainly reports international issues and major events. It has great influence and fame. MC: And they want to work with you? Lucien: Yeah, they want to interview me. MC: Wow, really? That's great! I felt relieved when I heard that it wasn't the bad news I was expecting, and set the box down on the table beside me. MC: It's such an influential magazine. If you accept their invitation, you can let more people know about your research results. Lucien looked at me, surprised, and then the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. Lucien: Why do you want more people to know? MC: Because......I think...for most people, your research results are just a string of boring, meaningless scientific terms. MC: But I know, you put a lot of work and effort into it. MC: Even if you have the title of "Genius Scientist," your determination and perseverance is no less than anyone else. The memories of the time I spent beside him flashed through my head as I spoke. Because of some small data error, he would have to put the papers of his experiment report--that he spent months working on--into the shredder one by one; He would be unable to hide his joy if he got the desired results for his experiment, even suggesting--somewhat childishly--that we go for a movie to celebrate the occasion. I smiled at Lucien and spoke to him in a lighthearted, playful tone. MC: So, I want you to be rewarded for your efforts...that's probably my only wish. My only selfish wish. Lucien stared at me quietly, and a soft, gentle emotion seemed to slowly melt in his eyes. After a while, he gave a quiet laugh and smiled in resignation. Lucien: Dummy. He reached out and gathered me into his arms. Lucien: I declined their invitation. MC: Huh? Why? Lucien didn't answer, and instead, gave a soft chuckle. Lucien: Do you want to know what my selfish wish is? Lucien: You always joke that my time and energy is endless and never used up, but that's not true. They have their limits, too. Lucien: It's just that, I need to save them up and use it all on the person who's most important to me. He paused, gently rubbing the top of my head with his chin. Lucien: This is our vacation. I want to spend it with you, and you alone. I could feel his familiar body temperature on my skin. It felt as if his warmth was slowly seeping into my heart. I couldn't help but wrap my arms around Lucien, wanting to be closer to him and wishing the moment could last longer. MC: Yeah, me too. My gaze landed on the wooden box on the table. I closed my eyes and came to a decision.

MC: Lucien, the belt of your yukata seems to be a little loose. I noticed that the strip of fabric at his waist wasn't tight enough, and subconsciously reached out to help him fix it. MC: Hmm...this doesn't seem to work either...... MC: I'll just help you redo the knot! I untied Lucien's belt, planning to redo it for him. Lucien: It looks like you're very experienced with this. I heard the faint trace of a smile in his voice. I raised my head and met his gaze. Only then did I realize how close and intimate we were. MC: I-I'm not really experienced. It's just that I learned a bit from the attendant when she helped me put my yukata on. MC: Plus, the way girls wear yukata is more complicated than the way guys do. So, tying your belt...it's not very hard for me. I lowered my head, trying to hide my blushing cheeks. Lucien: I see. He nodded and then spread out his arms, allowing me to retie the belt. I tried to concentrate on the task at hand, but the breathing at my neck made it hard to focus. The atmosphere was filled with an indescribable feeling. I pressed my lips together, and when I was about to say something, Lucien spoke. Lucien: I didn't notice before now, but there's a few sentences written on that hanging painting over there. MC: Eh? I raised my head and followed his gaze to the wall behind me. A traditionally styled painting was hanging there. Bright red leaves floated down and landed on the clear spring water. They looked like the flames of a raging fire, dyeing the water around it red with warmth and passion. I hadn't paid much attention to it when I first entered the room. Now that I looked at it carefully, I realized that there really were words written there. I was about to examine the sentences, but Lucien beat me to it and read them out loud. Lucien: "The matters of the gods, never concern the humans." Lucien: "The maple dyes the river red, the flowing waters run deep..."

(I’ll leave the original sentence here, since this is a poem and I might have made some translation errors: 悠悠神代事, 黯黯不曾闻, 枫染龙田川, 潺潺流水深)

MC: I think I've seen these phrases before... MC: Is it from that really famous love song? I turned to look at Lucien quizzically, and he nodded. Lucien: Well, it's definitely filled with lots of emotion. Lucien: I think it's probably here to set the mood for Valentine's Day. That's why the wife of the owner put it here. Lucien: And if you look at the writing...it seems it was added not too long ago. I studied the painting again after Lucien's comment. MC: I didn't expect the owner of this hotel to be so considerate and attentive. It looks like a normal painting if you don't examine it carefully... MC: There was a hidden meaning all along... I tried to feel the emotions hidden in the lines and strokes of the painting. This piece of art, originally just used as a normal hanging painting, now had depth and concealed meaning thanks to the added sentences. My attention was all on the painting when I heard a voice by my ear. Lucien: It looks quite beautiful... Lucien: But, aren't you forgetting something? His gaze landed on the belt in my hands. I realized I still didn't finish tying Lucien's yukata. The fabric was draped loosely over his body. The low neckline fell even lower, and more of his chest was exposed. My face grew even warmer. MC: ...I'll finish it now! I tried to ignore my quickening heartbeat and finished tying Lucien's belt. When I was done, I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. I raised my hand to try and fix the low neckline of the yukata, but to my surprise, I discovered that it was just designed that way. MC: Was, was this neckline always so low?

My voice was quiet. Lucien looked down at his yukata, and then a smile of understanding spread across his face. Lucien: Yes, that's how it was when I first put it on. Lucien: I'm pretty sure all men's yukatas here are in this style. MC: That's strange, I think I remember seeing a different type of yukata on the official website... MC: Unless...this is also part of "setting the mood" for Valentine's Day? In order to cover up my flustered feelings, I spoke in a joking tone. Lucien gave a soft laugh, going along with my jokes. Lucien: Yeah, that's possible. He blinked and seemed to think of something. He bent down, leaning close to my ear, and spoke to me in a soft voice. Lucien: I think... Lucien: This counts as setting the mood as well.

Chapter 3

Lucien and I sat opposite to each other on the tatami. He took the sake out of the wooden box and uncorked the bottle, pouring its contents into two cups. Lucien: So this is why you were talking with the owner's wife today... Lucien: Is there a reason for this sudden surprise gift? I answered him calmly, trying to hide my nervousness and anxiety. MC: It's not really sudden, just part of the series of things I planned for this trip... MC: Just think of it as a reward for your past months of hard work! I tried to steer the conversation away from this topic and pointed at the sake cup, gesturing at him invitingly. MC: Apparently, this kind of sake is very popular here. I was afraid that it would be all sold out by the time we arrived, so I ordered it half a month in advance! Lucien's eyes filled with the faint trace of a smile. Lucien: I guess I'd better taste it, then. You worked so hard for it. He lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip. MC: How is it? Lucien: It has a slightly sweet flavour...quite delicious. MC: That's good! Drinking wine in winter can warm you up. The memories of Lucien drinking wine flashed through my head, and I couldn't help adding to my sentence. MC: ...and its alcohol content isn't very high, so you don't need to worry about getting drunk. He raised an eyebrow. Lucien: It seems like I'm being underestimated. He poured some more sake into the cup, and then sipped at it unhurriedly. Lucien: I've had sake before. I didn't get drunk. MC: I think you've mentioned it to me over the phone before... I felt even more curious after he brought the incident up again. My impression is that he almost never drinks alcohol, but instead, loves tea. MC: Why did you try sake that time? Lucien: Mm...let me think. He set down the cup, propping his head up on one hand, and lifted his gaze to stare at the leaves in the yard behind me. Lucien: It was back when I was still a student. We were celebrating because we won a contest with our project. MC: Huh? Lucien: Didn't expect that, right? His gaze met mine for a split second, and then he continued speaking. Lucien: I had worked with my classmates on a very challenging scientific research project. We finally got our ideal results after a year and a half. He sighed, seeming to remember the scenes of the past. Lucien: They were absolutely overjoyed...dragged me to the tavern to celebrate...... He spoke with resignation, but I could see the corners of his mouth turn up in a small smile. I've almost never seen him celebrate his own achievements. The thought I had suppressed earlier was appearing in my mind again-- I want to stay beside him, celebrate with him, and witness the moment his hard work blossoms and he's rewarded for his efforts. A tangled mess of emotions spread across my chest: anticipation, anxiety, and even a hint of worry... Lucien: You're zoning out again. A light tap landed on my forehead, and I came back to my senses, smiling apologetically at Lucien. He narrowed his eyes, staring at me silently, and then spoke. Lucien: Oh, I remember a game we played back then... MC: A game? Lucien: Here, I'll show you. I watched with interest as Lucien took an empty cup and placed it upside-down on the table. Lucien: It's pretty simple. We take turns, you can either choose to tap the cup with your fingers, or take the cup away. Lucien: If the cup is taken away, the other person has to knock on the table with their knuckles. Touching the cup or tapping the table both count as losing. MC: This game seems to rely heavily on reflexes... Lucien smiled at my slightly confused state. Lucien: Yes, but it isn't very hard. You'll get the hang of it after a round or two. Do you want to give it a try? MC: Sure! I nodded eagerly. A streak of emotion flashed through Lucien's eyes, and a smile appeared on his lips.

MC: ...... MC: That's impossible! I took another sip of sake in frustration. Apparently, the "It isn't very hard" of this game is only directed at Lucien. Aside from having great reflexes, he always seemed to know my thoughts, and predicted my movements ahead of time... MC: It's like you can read my mind... Lucien just smiled in response to my complaint. Lucien: Or maybe it's because I know you so well. Lucien: That's why it's not hard to figure out what you're going to do next. He didn't seem to notice how his words made me flustered and embarrassed. I muttered under my breath. MC: That's not fair... Lucien: Why don't you try putting all of your attention on me as well?

MC: Huh? Lucien tilted his head, supporting his face with one hand. He studied my face curiously. Lucien: Maybe this strategy will be more effective. My heartbeat sped up uncontrollably. For a split second, I couldn't tell if he was teasing me, or being completely serious. I still decided to give it a try. I was losing right now, but this method would give me a chance to turn things around. I have nothing to lose, anyways. We soon started a new round. I followed Lucien's advice and stared at him intently, trying to find loopholes and weak points in his gestures. Lucien was smiling the entire time. He seemed to be in a good mood. It was now my turn to tap the cup. I noticed Lucien wrinkle his brow, and I suddenly decided to change tactics. I grabbed the cup and took it away. MC: ...! Lucien: I lost. He looked at our hands, both touching the top of the cup, and sighed. Lucien: It looks like...I was too careless. Lucien: I shouldn't have told you about that strategy. He looked a little sad and regretful. Lucien took the sake and downed it in one go. MC: Does it really work that well? I was a little surprised by the sudden victory. I wasn't sure if it was just luck or not, but I still grinned and felt excited at finally winning against this flawless person. The game went surprisingly smoothly for me after that. I didn't think I would ever experience such a day, where I was always winning against Lucien. The smile on my face grew wider and wider. It stayed that way until Lucien had to drink another cup of sake as punishment. Looking at his reddish ears and smiling lips, I suddenly realized something. I stopped smiling immediately and walked up to Lucien, looking at him sternly. MC: I nearly fell for your tricks again! His gaze flickered, and he reached out for me. Lucien: What's wrong? He looked at me, blinking innocently. Lucien: Why do you look so angry? Did I do something wrong? I couldn't help but laugh somewhat angrily. He already knew the answer...but he was asking anyways. I squeezed his hand. MC: You're letting me win on purpose, right? Lucien didn't respond, but hooked his fingers around mine, wrapping his palm around my hand. Lucien: Who said I let you win on purpose? Lucien: I'm losing to you willingly. He reached out and brushed his finger against my nose, a smile appearing on his lips once more. Lucien: I can finally see your genuine smile. MC: Eh? Lucien: You've looked worried ever since this morning. Lucien: I had originally thought that I shouldn't pressure you into telling me and wait for you to talk to me yourself, but on second thought, it's not good for you to bear this on your own. Lucien: I'm guessing...the thing that's bothering you... is something concerning me? He looked lost in thought for a second. Lucien: Is it that article from the morning? The determined look in his eyes and his behaviour just now made me suddenly understand. MC: So you wanted to play this game so I could relax more? MC: I should have known...I can't hide anything from you. He laughed and wrapped my hand into his palm, speaking in a teasing tone. Lucien: Tell me, how did the Professor Xu on the article trouble you? I laughed, amused by his words. Since my inner thoughts have already been exposed, I decided to just be honest with him. MC: Well...actually, this bottle of sake was originally a gift for you to celebrate your victory. I didn't expect the list to be postponed... MC: I still want to celebrate with you, but if......the results aren't good, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. MC: ...So, I didn't say anything. I sighed with relief, feeling more at ease after admitting everything to Lucien. MC: But now I think...it's more important to cherish the time we have together. I picked up my phone and turned it off without hesitation, trying to show Lucien my determination. MC: I won't get distracted anymore! The light in Lucien's eyes flickered and, he too, turned his phone off. He wrapped an arm around my waist, and lifted his head. Lucien: Then it's a promise. From now on, don't let anything disturb out time together. Lucien: ...not even humans. I couldn't hold in my laughter when Lucien made another addition to his sentence. MC: ...But it's still my fault for getting distracted before. Now, we can make up for lost time. Lucien: Oh? What do you have in mind? I glanced at the courtyard and raised my eyebrows at Lucien. MC: Didn't you notice? The snow outside is getting smaller. He looked puzzled for a second, but then understood what I was implying. The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. The heavy snow storm outside had turned into light, soft snowflakes-- Drifting into the steaming hot springs, and melting away silently.

After having our meal, Lucien and I walked on the stone pathway in the courtyard. The sound of tricking water reached our ears. MC: It looks like the weather report was accurate. The snow is much smaller and lighter than before.

Lucien: Yes, but are you still drunk? We could come back later. MC: Don't worry, I'm totally awake and sober. MC: Plus, I already did my research. According to the internet, the best time to take a soak in the springs is two hours after a meal! Lucien opened his mouth to say something, but then suddenly stopped in his tracks. He stared at the hot springs in front of us, and a streak of shock and surprise flashed through his eyes. I followed his gaze to the outdoor springs, and my eyes widened. MC: This is... To my utter surprise, I realized that this private hot spring didn't have any sort of barrier separating the two sides!

Chapter 4

MC: That's strange...I clearly remember that the pictures on the website had the hot springs separated with wooden boards... I stared at the water, feeling my ear tips turn red. I couldn't help feeling nervous at the thought of two people in the same pool... Just as I was about to say something to break the awkward silence, Lucien spoke up. Lucien: ...I'll just go back to the room. Lucien: I'll come back once you've finished. MC: Huh? I raised my head. Lucien's expression was still calm and gentle, but his eyes avoided mine. Could it be...... ...I'm not the only one who's nervous? Looking at the steaming hot spring, I swallowed and steeled myself. MC: I mean, we've already changed into new clothes and everything...let's just do it together.

Lucien and I sat across from each other in the hot spring. The clear, rippling water came up to our chests. Lucien: Do you think the water temperature is too hot? I raised my head, and my gaze slid disobediently from his bare chest to his collarbones, his Adam's apple, and then his lips...I didn't dare look up any further. MC: No, it's perfect. I shook my head and tried to suppress my rapid heartbeats. I lowered myself a bit more, submerging my shoulders in the warm water, and couldn't help giving a soft sigh. Snowflakes landed on my face, making my skin feel cool and icy, but melted soon after due to the hot air and my warm body. Lucien's hand swept over the surface of the water, making the water splash. He closed his eyes, tilting his head up, and leaned against the rock wall. Lucien: I remember the last time we took a soak in a hot spring. It was snowing...like today. MC: Yeah, I remember that too. My heart warmed as I remembered the last time I celebrated Lucien's birthday. MC: It feels like all of my happy memories about snowy days are spent with you. He slowly opened his eyes. Droplets of water clung to his eyelashes, and the shape of his lips looked attractive and alluring. Lucien: To me, it's not just snowy days. The sound of flowing water overlapped with his voice, reaching my ears through the misty air. The distant memories in my mind seemed to be lit up little by little under Lucien's gentle gaze. My throat felt a little dry after being stared at for so long. My gaze landed on the tray, and I looked over at the wagashi and cups of hot tea. I picked up a cup and took a sip. It wasn't alcohol or sake, but I somehow still felt slightly drunk. I patted my slightly hot face and tried to stretch my body a bit. My foot accidentally touched Lucien's leg. Lucien: ...... MC: ...... My heart skipped a beat and my breathing quickened. The water of the hot spring seemed to make every part of my body more sensitive. I looked up at Lucien. His gaze flickered, and then he looked away. Lucien picked up the other cup on the tray. Lucien: ...The aroma of tea is very strong. MC: Yeah... MC: T-This kind of opportunity is rare, why don't we replace alcohol with tea and give a toast? I bit my tongue in embarrassment as soon as the words were out of my mouth. The hand Lucien was using to hold the cup seemed to shake. He studied my red cheeks for a second, and then couldn't hold in his laughter.

Lucien: Yes, that's a good suggestion, but...... Lucien: Toasts are usually for celebrating. What are we celebrating right now? I was at a loss for words. While I racked my brain for things to say, a thought flashed through my mind. MC: To celebrate- Lucien: I'm going to be very disappointed if you say something like "to celebrate your prizewinning ahead of time" again. MC: Uhm... This man definitely has mind-reading skills! I looked at Lucien's smiling eyes through the white mist, and then couldn't help smiling as well. The snow floated down from the skies, the clear water rippled, but nothing could compare to his shining eyes. Everything in front of me suddenly felt unreal, like a dream. An amazing man was right in front of my eyes, sharing tea and the wonderful snowy view with me. I could see my figure reflect clearly in Lucien's eyes. I suddenly realized that...to me, this moment with him surpasses everything. I instantly spoke without thinking. MC: Then, let's celebrate the moment we share right now. Underneath the water's surface, our touching skin lightly rubbed against each other. The distinct touch made me feel like there were electric currents coursing through my body, the sensation causing ripples in my heart. I no longer avoided his eyes like before, but looked at Lucien quietly. His Adam's apple moved slightly. The pale, warm mist made his dark eyes twinkle with the lights reflecting off the water. I suddenly had the feeling that Lucien could somehow see past the hazy mist and stare straight into my heart. After a while, he gave a soft laugh. Lucien: Only the moment now? MC: What? Lucien didn't answer, but instead, got up and leaned towards me. His chest, originally submerged in the hot spring, was exposed above the water. The temperature of the hot spring made his skin slightly red. The water rippled and splashed, the droplets falling back towards the spring. Slightly nervous, I touched the ground with my foot. I was a little unstable due to the buoyancy of the water, but Lucien grabbed my waist with one hand just in time. I lifted my head, bewildered, and stared at the defined line of Lucien's jaw, my fingertips digging into the tight and strong muscles of his shoulders. His hand slipped over my back and he held me even tighter in his arms. I subconsciously put one hand at his shoulder and pressed the other against his chest. MC: Lucien...... The soft waves of the water lapped against our bodies. Lucien bent down, and his lips moved close to my ears. His voice was slightly hoarse. Lucien: What I want to say is, not only should we celebrate this moment, but also... Lucien: Every single second we have together. A light touch landed on my earlobe, and it felt as if tendrils of fire were lit up there, one by one. The cups collided with a clear, crisp sound. Lucien drank a mouthful of tea, held my chin, and leaned down. I watched his face come closer and closer. I had no time to think, all I could do was close my eyes...... And...experience the numb sensation on my lips and taste the fragrant sweet tea in my mouth.

There was the sound of splashing water as Lucien got up and walked out of the pool. Lucien: Our clothes were left out and now they're wet from the snow. I'll go back to get new clothes. MC: Wait, I'll go with you. I stood up and tried to follow him. Lucien stood frozen in place, and his gaze wavered slightly when he looked at me. I followed his eyes and looked down. The wet towel clung to my body, clearly outlining my figure. Water dripped down from the soaked fabric. A cool breeze blew past, and I suddenly noticed something. I quickly sat back in the hot spring. MC: I-It's so cold... Lucien laughed softly and nodded. Lucien: Yeah, it would be cold for you if you go back like this. Lucien: So, can you wait for me here? I touched my slightly hot face, and nodded at him, smiling. MC: Okay!

When Lucien returned, I was eating the wagashi in the tray. He laughed when he saw me. (Wagashi are traditional Japanese sweets that are typically enjoyed with a cup of green tea. In Chinese, they're called 和果子.)

Lucien: Are you hungry? MC: A little bit. Look, these desserts are all so detailed and beautiful. I pushed the platter towards him. He crouched down and examined them carefully. Lucien: Yeah, you're right. Lucien: I once heard a really skilled pastry chef say that wagashi desserts can express and reflect anything, whether it's from nature or human emotion. MC: Really? I put my arm on the stone edge surrounding the hot spring and started studying the wagashi in the tray curiously. MC: These are made for Valentine's Day. I wonder if they're special in any way. Lucien: I think they are. He leaned down and examined the desserts along with me. Lucien: Maybe...we can use our imagination to take a guess? He smiled and picked up one of the sweets. The shape and design was fairly simple compared to the others. It was round like a small steamed bun, and there was a circular yellow label stamped in the centre. Lucien: I'm sure they made the label yellow for a reason. He looked at it for a while and then handed it to me. Lucien: Can you think of anything? MC: Um...yellow circle...... MC: Like a full moon? I looked up at Lucien. The corners of his mouth turned up, hinting at me to continue on. I stared at the seemingly plain and ordinary wagashi, and suddenly realized something. MC: The moon is a very important symbol of love and can be used to express many different emotions... MC: So, it seems that this wagashi really fits the theme of Valentine's Day. Lucien: Do you want to taste it? I leaned over and bit into the wagashi in his hand. The sweetness melted in my mouth. I was pleasantly surprised to see the red filling underneath the white outside layer. MC: It's red bean paste...! A flash of surprise crossed Lucien's eyes, and after a while, he nodded thoughtfully. Lucien: To choose red filling for the inside... Lucien: That's probably because the person who created it wanted to express the sincere emotions between lovers. MC: So wagashi can really express human emotion... I looked at the emotion-filled dessert, and a warm, gentle feeling grew in my heart. I spoke to Lucien without thinking. MC: You try it too! I remembered something as soon as the words left my mouth, and quickly changed my words. MC: Oh, you don't really like sweets...then I'll take it! I reached out to take the wagashi away from him, but Lucien moved his hand away and out of my reach. MC: Huh? He gave a light laugh at my puzzled look. Lucien: I don't really like sweet things, that's true. Lucien: But...a dessert with such beautiful meaning...I still want to give it a try. MC: But...... Lucien's face appeared in front of mine before I even finished speaking. He put his hand behind my head and leaned down. In the blink of an eye, I felt a sudden warmth on my lips. His hot breath fell on my face, making my skin feel both itchy and numb, dispelling the coolness in the air. The snow on the edge of the pool melted into water and fell into the spring, causing little splashes where they land. After a long time, Lucien finally let go of the hand behind my head and looked at me, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Lucien: Mm, it's sweeter than I imagined.

Chapter 5

After taking a soak in the pool, Lucien and I walked back to the room. We both froze when the door was pushed open. A gaudy “prize cake” was sitting on the table.

The word "AWARD" was written in large block letters using red chocolate, and right underneath it, was a sentence written in black chocolate-- "The Best Scientist Award". Lucien raised an eyebrow, glancing lazily towards me. I coughed awkwardly. MC: Cough cough...would you believe me if I said the attendant sent this to the wrong room? The door was pushed open again, and the attendant came in with two sets of cutlery. Attendant: You're back, Miss. Did you enjoy the hot springs? Attendant: This is the special cake you ordered. The driver was able to get down the mountain to get it since the snow's smaller now. Please enjoy. The attendant gave me a meaningful look, as if saying "I won't disturb you any longer", and then bowed and walked out. After a short silence, a soft chuckle came from behind me. MC: ......Okay, I'll admit it. I prepared this for you...a present to celebrate your victory in winning the award. MC: I think there's more of a celebratory atmosphere if we eat cake. MC: Well...I know the appearance of the cake is sort of...weird and exaggerated, but it probably tastes okay... Lucien nodded, laughing softly. Lucien: Yes, I think this cake will be delicious. And...... Lucien: Now, I'm convinced that you really do care a lot about this topic. He paused, and then took out his phone, turning it on. Lucien: Since you want to know so badly...let's find out together. MC: ......What? Lucien: Didn't you want to know the results? I remember it said in the article you read this morning...it was going to be delayed until the afternoon. Lucien: It should be the right time now. MC: But...! I watched his unhurried movements, my eyes wide. I seemed to be more nervous than he was. Lucien: If I don't let you know now, you'd be worried over it for the entire day. Right after he finished speaking, his phone buzzed continuously for a few minutes, and endless messages flooded the screen. My heartbeat sped up as I stared as his vibrating phone. Lucien also seems somewhat surprised by the amount of notifications. Lucien: ...A Ming, sent fifteen text messages and called me six times. He wrinkled his brow. Lucien: It looks like he didn't take what I said about "focus on the key points" to heart. MC: I'm currently also questioning your ability to "focus on key points"! Finally, his phone calmed down. Lucien lightly tapped the screen, his face expressionless and emotionless. I looked at him with mixed feelings of anticipation and anxiousness. After a few minutes of silence, Lucien suddenly leaned towards me, burying his head in my shoulder, and let out a soft sigh. Lucien: ...... My heart stopped. MC: I-It's okay...... My mind was blank, and I was stumbling over my words. MC: Maybe it's because they changed the requirements for this year, they need to consider other elements, and...... MC: This is their loss! You're so talented and smart, they're going to regret it for sure! Lucien: ...Really? MC: Yes!! I replied instantly and was about to continue on when my ears caught a low laugh. I suddenly realized that something wasn't right. MC: ......You're tricking me again! I immediately straightened up, trying to escape his embrace. He caught my wrist, laughing, and pulled me into his arms again. Lucien: I didn't trick anyone...it's kind of unfair for you to say that. Lucien: I don't think I actually said anything about the results yet? I bit my lip, pouting slightly as I looked at the triumphant smile in his eyes. Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. I dove into the blankets on the bed and pretended to be angry. Even though the news of Lucien's success made me smile from ear to ear, I tried to control my expression and spoke in an upset voice. MC: I was so nervous, yet you still tricked me! MC: I had prepared a third gift for you, aside from the cake and the sake...but now I'm going to reconsider if I should give it to you or not! His low laughter immediately stopped, as if someone had pressed the pause button. I secretly giggled to myself and counted down silently. 3, 2, 1...as expected, I felt a pair of hands hug me from behind when I counted the last number. Lucien: I'm sorry. You were so cute...I couldn't help teasing you. Lucien: So, can you tell me what the last gift is? Lucien waited, and when I didn't respond, he started coughing. Lucien: Cough cough... Lucien: I think I caught a cold from staying outside for so long... I listened to Lucien's coughing. At first, I was startled, but then couldn't hold in my laughter. I didn't think he'd resort to such childish tactics. Lucien also started laughing when he heard my laughter. The hands around my waist tightened, and his voice was more serious when he opened his mouth. Lucien: MC. Lucien: Actually, I don't really care about this award that much. My heart skipped a beat. It was the first time I heard him say something like that. Lucien: Because, everything that I wanted to have......I got it when the research results were announced...maybe even earlier than that. Lucien: Any praise from the outside world, to me, is nothing but icing on the cake. He paused, as if suddenly remembering something, and then started laughing softly. Lucien: But, everything that you've done for me today...I'm very happy about it. Lucien: Whether it's the gifts you gave me, or the sincere words you spoke...all of that made me feel how important I am to you. Lucien rubbed his chin over my forehead through the blanket. Lucien: The only one who would feel happy, nervous, or even sad for me from the bottom of their heart... Lucien: It's probably only this silly girl in front of me. His soft, gentle words fell over my heart, splashing up waves of emotion. Lucien: I think...the reason I keep teasing you is because I want to see more of the reactions and feelings...that you only display for me. Lucien: I guess I'm also a "collector", of some sort-- Lucien: It doesn't matter what form of MC...I want to have them all. Lucien: Will you forgive me now? His tone was filled with tenderness and gentleness. I still didn't respond, but instead, answered with my actions-- I threw off the blankets, and kissed Lucien's cheek as he froze in shock. My fingers swept over the strands of his hair, stopping on his face, and I held on to him tightly, pulling him towards me. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room. As if in a trance, I kissed him over and over, and then pressed my lips against his ear. MC: I'm not angry, you're the silly one here... My lips made their way down the edge of his ear. He gave a sharp intake of breath, and I stopped my kisses and instead, rubbed gently against his ear. After a long time, my eyes met Lucien's, and I finally realized how bold and embarrassing my actions were. I tried to pull away from him. But Lucien didn't allow me to hide. The hand on my waist tightened, and he pressed his forehead against my forehead, his dark eyes staring deep into mine. Lucien: Is this the third gift? Our breaths mingled, both of us breathing hard. I shook my head. MC: ...It's a promise. I tried to calm my breathing, and slowly said the words that had been fermenting in my heart. MC: I was planning to wait until the results were out...no matter if you won or not, I would still say this to you-- MC: In the future, I'm going to stay beside you and spend every memorable moment with you. MC: ...Do you still remember the crystallized flower you gave me? MC: My thoughts are the same as yours. Every single second we spend together is precious and special for me. I don't have a gift as beautiful and romantic as the one you gave me, so I can only express my feelings in words... MC: But this truly is my most genuine and sincere thought. The evening air swept past. Behind Lucien, the flaming red maple leaves fluttered down from the sky. I suddenly had the feeling that Lucien and I were closer than ever. He lowered his gaze, staring at me for a second, and then let out a soft laugh. Lucien: Your romantic sentences have improved a lot since the last time. My face felt hot when I met the mischievous look in his eyes. MC: I was only speaking from the heart! Lucien: Yeah, I know. Lucien: I don't think your words are plain. In fact, I believe the opposite...your words are of great significance and importance to me. Lucien: But, even if I receive such a wonderful vow, there's still one thing... Lucien: Aren't you giving me an empty promise? MC: !... I... I was at a loss for words. Lucien smiled, his gaze traveling down to slightly open lips, emotion wavering in his dark eyes. Lucien: Sometimes...actions speak louder than words. He lifted his arm, brushing his thumb against my lips. Lucien: The sincerity in your promise...maybe I'll understand it better if you express it in a different way. His voice was low, and he lifted his gaze to look at me, lights shimmering in his eyes. Lucien: Are you willing to give it a try? My face turned red, and my thoughts were a mess. The next second, Lucien grabbed my wrist and pressed me to the tatami. MC: Uhf...! His soft tongue pried my teeth open little by little, rubbing against the inside of my mouth gently and delicately, as if trying to rub away all the heat and lingering feelings. I tasted the faint, pleasant flavour of tea in his mouth. It somehow tasted like wine with an incredibly high alcohol content...I felt slightly drunk. He lifted my chin with one hand. Lucien's eyes were half-closed, and he loosened his grip on my hand. His fingers gently caressed the skin of my wrist, slowly and tenderly, making my body gradually relax. The temperature around us rose quickly, and I instinctively threw my arms around his neck, responding to his actions with another kiss. He let go of me just when I started feeling a little dizzy. His familiar soft laugh sounded by my ears. When he saw I was slightly weak from his actions, Lucien held on to my waist and let me sit on his lap. One of my hands were pressed against his sturdy chest, and the other was weakly grasping his already messy and disheveled clothes. MC: Lucien...... I lowered my head and stared into his eyes. I could see some sort of suppressed emotion in his dark eyes, and I leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his chin. Lucien: ...... The light reflected in Lucien's eyes seemed to flicker, and then suddenly darkened. The hand Lucien was using to stroke my hair suddenly moved, giving me no time to react, and he pulled me towards him, kissing me once more. Unlike the gentle, tender kiss from before...this one was filled with overwhelming passion and a slight hint of greed. The tingling sensation from my mouth seemed to course through my body like an electrical current. Lucien's warm palm made its way down my back, making me shiver. My senses and emotions were all occupied by him. I could feel the kiss gradually deepen. I felt a slight pain at my collarbone, and I cried out. I could feel a warm, moist touch appear over that area. A layer of fine sweat appeared on our touching skin, and with it, came an intimate, sticky feeling. I ran a hand through the sweat-drenched strands of Lucien's hair and lowered my head to look down at him. His eyes were closed, and his face was slightly red with the colour of maple leaves. I didn't know where to put my eyes, and my face turned hot again. As if feeling my nervousness, the corners of Lucien's mouth turned up slightly. He lifted a hand and covered my eyes. Lucien: Close your eyes. His voice was commanding, but also extremely gentle and tender. I slowly closed my eyes and surrendered myself to him. The last image remaining on my eyes was Lucien's dark, unfathomable eyes... ...And a brilliant red.

- End -

#mlqc #mlqc lucien #mlqc luci #mrlove #mr love #mr love mobile #mr love lucien #mr love queen's choice #mrlovequeenschoice #mr love: queen's choice #mlqc translation #mlqc translations

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coveredinsun · 3 years

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i have so many thoughts about march 4th’s stream, so i compiled all the evidence i could find to support my little theory, click the keep reading to see it :] !!!

dont argue in my notes i will not read it

!!! obvious tw/cw for death !!!

my friend (@enchantment-tables) and i based our thoughts around the way c!wilbur and c!tommy acted in today’s stream, both in the afterlife and out of it. yes i know all of this can be easily argued!! this is just for fun!!! dont argue in my notes tho bc i won’t read it :]

now look. i’m not saying tommy lied about the afterlife and wilbur, but a lot of it just simply doesn’t line up. here’s some evidence:

tommy was acting pretty casual with wilbur in what we saw of them in the afterlife. as casual as dead people can get, anyway. they bickered like they did all the time before they died. we’ve seen wilbur be hostile, we’ve seen tommy be scared of him, and they were not acting like that. wilbur seemed more concerned about solitaire than anything else.

tommy does not begin to get anxious until wilbur mentions the space he felt growing for tommy in the afterlife. this implies that, while being with wilbur probably did put tommy on edge, most of the fear tommy had was due to him being literally dead, not being around wilbur.

when tommy came back he was freaking out. (a big part of that was definitely about the fact that he, y’know, died and came back.) he talked about the horrible things wilbur did to him, the awful things wilbur planned to do when/if he ever came back, when really wilbur insisted he didn’t want to come back and just... talked about solitaire?

speaking of solitaire: tommy told dream that the afterlife is colorless and shapeless. how can you play solitaire if you can’t see colors and shapes?

tommy told dream everything in the afterlife was formless. not only did wilbur say he has paper (that we hear him shuffle), but wilbur claims that tommy was “blowing the cards everywhere” which implies that they’re sitting at a table. formless, huh?

tommy claims that dying was incredibly painful. it was like “going through a shredder” in his words. perhaps pain is different when you’re dead, but tommy didn’t seem to be in pain. he didn’t sound particularly happy, but he certainly didn’t sound like he was in “pieces” like he claimed to feel. (also, if the afterlife was truly as agonizing as tommy describes it, wouldn’t it make sense for wilbur to want out?)

tommy begging dream not to revive wilbur? deception. tommy knows better than anyone that dream will do what is in his best interest regardless of what tommy says. (you know, and dream would gladly do it out of spite.)

do i think tommy was totally lying? no. but the person most capable of taking down dream is the one he was stuck in the afterlife with.

so, why would tommy lie about all this? because he knows, better than anybody else on the server, how much dream enjoys inflicting pain and suffering on others! dream heard the way tommy described death– excruciatingly painful and horrible in every way– and got excited about doing it over and over again to find immortality! of course tommy wants to sell this idea that it was horrible, because that makes dream want to do it to him again.

that being said though, do i think tommy is 100% entirely faking his freak out? no. i think that in his words to dream, there was true fear at the possibility of bringing wilbur back.

do i think wilbur is totally good now? also no. he was very persistent to talk about things that made tommy uncomfortable and anxious, like their deaths being good for the server. but this simply doesn’t cover the horrible things tommy claims he saw.

dream says that wilbur is the “smartest person on the planet,” which implies that those that are dead are omnipotent. if that’s true, and wilbur saw the shit dream has put tommy through– not from ghostbur’s naïve perspective, but from his own– why would wilbur do horrific things to tommy in death? what would he gain? what goal could he possibly work towards in death?

tommy claims that wilbur planned to do horrible things, but i don’t believe this is true. alivebur was content with dying because he had achieved his goal. wilbur doesn’t get pleasure from suffering the way dream does, and he no longer has an end to meet, so why would he do awful things? for fun?

not to mention... wilbur said himself, multiple times, that he did not wish to be brought back. wilbur wants to stay dead. why would he plan to do horrid things if he didn’t want to he brought back? it just doesn’t make sense.

and finally, i think it’s very much worth noting that tommy and wilbur described the afterlife in polar opposite ways. tommy described the afterlife as “a hand that was holding him tight.” wilbur described the afterlife as liberating.

#the concept of tommy and wilbur conspiring in the afterlife makes me so incredibly hyped #i wrote this at 1:30 am and you’re gonna READ IT #gabby literally didnt know how to play solitaire either. when the solitaire thing was her point #wilbur soot #wilbursoot #tommyinnit #dream #dreamwastaken #dreamsmp #dream smp #dsmp

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octalove · 4 years

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V: Letting Lie

(Batgirl/Red Hood)

Description: There’s a breakthrough in the case, and Reader takes things into her own hands. Part one, two, three, and four.

The hospital was white. All white. Like a dream. White walls, white floors, white curtains, white stretchers, white papers fluttering around on clipboards, doctors in white coats. Mr. Wayne’s suit was black, so I focused on him. Black suit, blue tie. Black hair, blue eyes. He was filling out whatever paper the nurse had given him. Something about seeing it all play out, despite the face he had put on for me, made my eyes well up with tears. He was afraid, so I was afraid.

“Mr. Wayne?” His eyes shot up as he looked desperately at the nurse. He was so helplessly at the mercy of whatever news they brought us. We both were. “Will you come with us? We’ll have a nurse stay with the girl.” The nurse looked down at me with a warm smile. White teeth.

“We need to borrow Mr. Wayne for just a second. That okay, baby?” I just nodded, not really considering it something I could say no to. No, please, I want him to stay. I’m scared and I want him to stay. A male nurse came and sat by me. He talked to me about school, my favorite subjects- science, math. He asked me what I wanted to be, and I shrugged.

“People who like science and math make good doctors.” He said. I shrugged again, but then considered it more.

“Is it hard?” I asked.

“It’s very hard. Not a lot of people can do it.”

“…”

“But it’s worth it. You help people, you know?”

Mr. Wayne appeared from around the corridor. The look on his face made all the papers stop fluttering. Made all the doctors stop rushing. Made the world stop where it was. Somewhere, maybe, in retrospect, I knew before he said it. I kept my eyes trained on his face, even though I wanted to look away.

“Y/N…” He said, taking a seat beside me. “Listen to me, sweetpea. Your parents-” His voice was cautious, considerate as he tried again. “Your moms got hurt really badly tonight… They- they’re both…“ A tear landed on my hand as the memory grew into a reality, which was bigger than I was. White sheets, red blood. He took my hand, and wiped it away.

“They’re gone now.”

They didn’t talk about Jason Todd.

And since they were the only people in his life at the time he died, nobody talked about Jason Todd. We met a couple of times, before Bruce took me in. I hated my expensive gowns, and he hated his expensive obligations, and we hid together at parties, all the while Dick insisted we’d get married. He lived, albeit briefly, as a smart, capable boy, and died as a smart, capable Robin. I had trouble looking at his face- pictures and old year books. When I did, I was looking into the face of a boy who died an untimely, tragic death. That was it. That was his story. Jason Todd died alone, afraid, and probably in a lot of pain. I went to his funeral.

If at all he came up (I could only think of one or two occasions), Bruce would tense, his eyes falling away, and Alfred’s gaze would cloud with memory. Dick, at least, could share a story or two, coveting the fondness and pride he had for his brother without dismissing the whole subject. Tim and Damian didn’t ask. They just tried not to die with the uniform on.

So walking into the cave and seeing Jason Todd’s face plastered on the central monitor seemed like the single most unlikely thing to occur in the Wayne household. I would’ve placed Bruce adopting another child before digging up and displaying dead ones.

Tim, Dick, and Babs were huddled close, faces wound and tight, while Bruce looked distracted, fascinated with his W.E. ballpoint pen. I dragged my feet a little to alert them all of my entry, but only Babs looked up.

“Y/N.” She said.

“Hey. What’s going on?”

Everyone just sort of concluded that someone else would explain, or take the lead, but no one made any attempt to do so. Finally, Bruce sighed.

“Come here. Sit down.” Okay. If there was anything in the world that could make your intestines feel like they were getting turned to ramen noodles by a paper shredder, it was Bruce Wayne telling you to come here, sit down. I searched the others’ faces as I did so.

“What happened?” I asked quietly, trying to fill the chasmic silence.

“I’m going to go over everything. Do you remember…” He trailed off- just for a second. It wasn’t often I saw him battle with something like that. His face was tired, and his eyes revealed a struggle as he fought whatever emotion he was grappling with. “Do you remember Jason?”

I nodded. “Sort of.” An echoing memory passed. Lacy table cloth curtains and chocolate covered strawberries as we camped under gala snack tables, whispering and laughing. Bruce watching me when my parents went out of town, and Jason giving me a tour of the library. The red roses on his burial. Sure, sort of. His blurry picture was on the monitor, anyway.

“Okay. Very good.” Bruce began again, perhaps relieved he would have to go into detail to refresh my memory.

“We’ve been putting a lot of information together regarding the Red Hood. We’ve been able to deduce his origins were The Viper House, but before that, Arkham. He began working out of the Asylum, and contacts there had a lot of information about him.”

That, I didn’t know. I supposed I wasn’t the only one slinking around in shadows. He was addressing everyone now, going through visuals on the monitor.

“He began to placate what was left of Joker’s operations in Coventry before he started on general crime. Oracle was even able to get some information from Harley Quinn.” I looked at Babs with some surprise, and she just nodded along.

“The very first sighting of him- in Coventry- was April 27th, seven months ago. The fifth anniversary of…”

I nodded. I knew what April 27th was. A vapid, despairing day in the manor that Bruce spent in his office and Dick didn’t call. I didn’t follow, but if Bruce had linked Jason’s death to Red Hood, I knew he must have something big.

“All of the information we gathered, on top of his intimate knowledge of us, vigilante or otherwise, has lead us to a clear conclusion. The encounter in Crime Alley on the 21st was just another confirmation.”

I almost flinched as my eyes flew to Tim, but no one seemed particularly interested in me. I texted him quickly, careful to avoid Bruce’s eye.

You told him?

- I told him I was the one who saw it. It was important information.

Shit, Tim. Was he mad?

He didn’t answer, looking back up to the briefing. I slid my phone into my pocket, guilt weighing in my chest alongside the other myriad of emotions building.

“He’s been around longer than seven months. Much longer. And it began with Jason’s death.”

I furrowed my brow, putting together a puzzle with with bent, broken edges, like trying to fit a triangle into a square-shaped hole- just one angle missing.

“Are you saying… Joker didn’t kill Jason? That this guy did?” My body felt cold.

Bruce looked at Dick, who didn’t return his gaze. Then, he turned back to me.

“I’m saying... that Jason is Red Hood.”

I let confusion twist on my face. “What? How? That’s not possible. You think he lived? We- I mean, we had a funeral.”

Dick shook his head, answering on Bruce’s behalf. “He did die, but… are you familiar with the Lazarus Pit?”

I went over my tangling thoughts. The crime scenes. The anger. The vigilante justice packaged in a case of blood and bullets, shipped right to Gotham’s largest looming criminals. The warehouse, the alley. The button. The leather on his gloves as he ran his fingers along my face and pressed it, leaving me all alone.

Tell Batman,

It was all falling in line; bubbling up and searing together like hot, melding flesh pulled together in the burning waters of the Lazarus.

I’m getting impatient.

“So… what are you going to do?” I asked.

Dick’s face was pained. Solemn. “I… we want to try to talk to him. There’s a reason he’s doing all this, and there’s a reason he chose now. If we want to figure it out, we have to find him.”

I swallowed. “I can help.”

“No.” Bruce declared swiftly. “Absolutely not. The only thing we know about him is that he’s dangerous. Red Hood may have Jason’s DNA, but we need to work under the assumption that he isn’t the same person.”

I could answer that. He wasn’t.

“Do not look for him. Do not engage him. Is that clear?” He was talking to me, Tim, and Damian. We all nodded.

“Any unapproved interaction could jeopardize the case, and give him more insight into our movements. We want to try and remain one step ahead. That is all.” The explanation was for Damian, who operated on bargains, not orders. Again, we all nodded. After a moment, I sighed.

“Well… I have school in the morning. Will you tell me if you learn anything else?” I asked. The three of them nodded, and Dick muttered a ‘goodnight’. I turned, mind working against the grain of what I should do and what I wanted to do.

Just go to bed, I willed myself.

Just go.

Night fell, black and smoggy. The sea was hissing and writhing, unsettled with the gale of a promised storm. I wasn’t entirely certain what would catch Red Hood’s attention. It seemed that our history comprised of him finding us, and not the other way around. Gotham Docks seemed like a good place to start. Ever since Kuznetsov was found in his watery grave, his men belonged to Hood. They moved drug imports that came to Port Adams- actual drugs- pharmaceuticals, over-the-counters, hydrocodone, acetaminophen; all legal things. But Gotham City taxed the living hell out of medicine imports, so people like Kuznetsov (may he rest in peace) smuggled them in fishing vessels for cheap, and got them into the hands of big pharma and medicare companies for a lot of money.

I’d picked a cozy spot on the roof of a bait shop that made me feel safely invisible as my eyes swept over the docks. Batman didn’t typically prioritize crime of this caliber; over the counter meds weren’t going to blow anyone’s heads off the way crazy clowns and mafia bosses were. It made the busy henchmen on the boardwalks nice and blatant. It wasn’t hard to find tonight’s operation.

I needed to make a scene. Make some noise, throw out some names- one name in particular. Wherever he was, I hoped it’d be enough to make it worth dropping in. I was used to making quick, efficient work of criminals, not stalling. Making a scene meant no disappearing in shadows, or quieting the sound of my breath.

There were a couple of men dollying crates in and out of a packaging plant. Disguised as fishermen, naturally. As they approached the building, several feet from the propped-open door, I dropped. Embracing the momentum, my weight striking the old wood made a salient sound, and sent the startled men gasping and staggering backward.

“Holy shit!”

“B-Batma-

“B-B-Batgirl?” I clipped. “Were you gonna say Batgirl?” It didn’t really matter which bat they thought it was. The fear all worked to the necessary effect.

“Jesus, Joseph, and Mary,” The man muttered, scooting backward along the wood as I let my step fall heavy against it.

“Where is he?” I asked, drumming up my vicious, raspy voice, like smoke on the sea.

“Where-where’s who?” He stuttered. The other man was taking advantage of my focus and scrambling to his feet. Any second, he would bolt into the building. Perfect.

“Red. Hood.” I said, loud enough that the fleeing man would hear.

“I don’t know! Hand to god, I don’t know!” The man on the ground pleaded. I looked down at him, letting the fear and shadow distort my face.

“I don’t believe you.” I kicked him in the chest, sufficiently knocking the wind out of him, but left him there, turning my attention to the packaging plant.

Adrenaline was in my limbs, pushing and pulling with the running blood under my skin. When was the last time I had a good fight? Carjackings and bank robberies felt so small, and predictable. Everything was always stable. Batman always had it under control, watching dutifully from rooftops, appearing in split second if I needed help.

Tonight, Batman wasn’t here. I felt no eyes on my back, no voices in my ear. It was under control, but it was my control.

The men inside had already sufficiently scattered. I didn’t bother to hush my footsteps as I entered. The icy breeze from the open door made my cape flutter, despite its weight- and that was the only sound.

Suddenly, boots on concrete, and a man let out a defiant cry as he shot toward me, with a rusted tire iron raised above his head. I moved on practiced instinct, side stepping and leaving him stumbling, before delivering a hard, well-aimed kick that he wasn’t getting up from. Two other men concluded (incorrectly) if they went together, they could take me.

It was a blur of fists and make-shift weapons comprised of packaging tools, but they were easy to parry and subdue. I kicked the second one back with enough force to send him through a thin wooden partition, which cracked and splintered under his weight. I swung my eyes around the scene.

“Anyone else?” I knew they were there. Tucked behind conveyor belts and crouched low, using fish barrels for cover. No one answered the call of duty.

“I’ll ask again,” I called. “Where. Is. Red. Hood?”

Suddenly, a flash of color, and I went backward and downward, catching myself enough that my arm slid across the concrete instead of my face. I let out a sharp breath just in time to dodge another blow.

“All this,” The computerized tilt of his voice couldn’t smother the anger in it. “For little old me?”

I kept my eyes trained on his hands, because I could entertain close combat, but knew I’d need to bolt if he drew his guns. That didn’t appear to be his intention. I dipped away from one of his swings, but he swiped at the fabric of my cape, grip closing, and used it to heave me into a barrel. I gasped at the force of it as I reckoned with shattered wood. Barely recovering, I rolled out of the way as he swung low. I went for the door, figuring I could use a little more space, since he had a hundred pounds and a few feet on me.

Outside, a frigid wind was cascading across the docks, biting my skin and casting droplets of salt water all around. Red Hood moved imposingly slow-paced, attending the cuff of his jacket sleeve, while I put a hand on the railing and tried to find my footing again.

“There are easier ways to get my attention, sweet thing.” Drawing to a halt, he didn’t look like he was going to attack me again, so I wiped the blood from my lip and straightened.

“Sorry. You forgot..” I was still breathing heavily. “To give me.. your number… last time.”

He laughed; a terrible, beautiful thing. “I guess I did, didn’t I?”

I fought to remember why I was here, and consequently, tried to pull together Jason Todd with the faceless man before me. They seemed to foil one another- a triangle through a square-shaped hole.

“So what do you want?” He asked, more serious this time. Though a reasonable question, it almost sounded rhetorical for the sheer lack of curiosity in it. I swallowed.

“Show me your face.” I said. It was so quiet, so hushed by the jeering sea that I was surprised when he tilted his head in response.

“Liked our little game that much? Had to crack a few skulls just to play it again?” I was frustrated, wishing he would come close, like he had in the alley, and let me touch him. Let me push away the helmet and know.

I tried to convey my seriousness with a look, but he just rolled his shoulders.

“Is that all, little bird?” He seemed annoyed; like I’d dragged him here only to concern myself with the small matter of his secret identity. The secret identity of Gotham’s most prolific crimelord. I wanted to make him understand, but I didn’t know what to say. He didn’t say anything else, either. He didn’t say “no” or “whatever” or “goodbye”. He just started walking away.

Jason.

Suddenly, I stopped myself. What if he wasn’t? What if Bruce was wrong? I’d throw out a name- an accusation- at a monstrous stranger who had no connection to me or my family. He’d laugh his terrible laugh and know that the world’s greatest detectives weren’t so great after all. Nervousness consumed me, tightening around my throat, placating me while I watched his form get smaller as he walked away, the darkness threatening to swallow him up.

“Jason!”

He stopped. His boots dragged to a jarring halt on the wood. Slowly, then, he turned around. The shadows were long and cast over him, turning his helm the color of old blood.

“Come back.” I said. “Please.”

His body language was unreadable, a mix between relaxed and hesitant that left him standing there, looming, and left me unsure as to whether he was going to leave, or pull a glock on me. Then, he lifted his hands. His thumbs dragged beneath his jaw methodically, until there came a hiss from his helmet, and he pulled it off.

“Jason.” I repeated. My voice was tight. It shook. His gaze followed me in the dark before he approached, gate slow and heavy, and sat down on a fishing crate.

“What? Do I look different? Put on a little weight?” Maybe he was joking- I couldn’t tell. The soft rasping of his voice startlingly contrasted the voice scrambler, and blended with the bubbling waters below our feet. But something eerie laced it. It was still foreign to me. “It’s okay. You can tell me.”

I had previously thought I might be able to do this; face him. After all- I should be happy to see him again, alive after five years of Bruce’s grief and wretched hollowness. Years of operating in the long, dark shadow cast by his headstone. But somehow, the man before me was instead a confirmation. A walking death certificate. Jason Todd- the other Jason Todd- was still gone. Bronze skin, of which small, light colored scars adorned. Midnight hair mussed from his helmet, leaving a couple strands to fall over his dark eyes; eyes that used to hold warmth, and now held a malefic coldness. When I drank in the features of his face, I found my chalice empty. He didn’t approach me this time- didn’t draw near enough to feel his heat. Just sat there, elbows resting on his thighs, leaning forward and looking at me. I had trouble holding his gaze, but I did. Then, he gave me a chilling grin.

“Did you miss me?”

His voice knocked something loose, as my mind placed him as a memory. Someone I’d actually known. I had a million burning questions. “How? What happened?”

He pulled out a cigarette, shrugging. “I’ve been busy. Dying’s a lotta work.”

“Why- why are doing this?” This being spending seven months as the most prolific crimelord in Gotham. There was a spark of his lighter. Using his hand to shield the flame from the winds and misting water, it nurtured an orange glow on his face, bathing his skin in auburn light for just a moment. I blinked, and it was extinguished, replaced, again, by the blue darkness. He took a deep drag.

“Know how I died, dollface?” He asked. I did, so I nodded.

“Remember what happened to the bastard who killed me? After.” I studied him, still reeling a bit from accepting the man before me as the boy he’d been. I remembered there was another attack after Jason’s death. Joker took forty pounds of C4 to a shopping center in Fashion district at the beginning of May. Amidst the rubble were Robin: Missing posters. Bruce didn’t make them. Joker kept up his streak thereafter. He didn’t stop until his death, last year.

“Nothin’.” Jason supplied the answer. A hard, bitter, sorrowful nothing. It burned cold, like an inverse flame.

“Batman doesn’t kill. He doesn’t kill, and killers do. So they walk, and keep killing, and he calls it justice.”

I let it all sink in. Batman was the only thing standing between Gotham and complete corruption. I saw, in my memory, all the people I’d helped. All the victims who’d ever clung to me or thanked me through tears. All the pride I’d ever felt carrying the mantle. Batman didn’t kill because you can’t go back from killing. If he did, it wouldn’t be vigilantes against criminals- it’d be dogs eating dogs. Domestic war. Jason had been Robin. Surely he understood the philosophy of it?

But, then, what did it get him? He took those philosophies to the grave. When he finally crawled back out, he did what anyone with a vendetta might do. He overcorrected.

“Tell me somethin’, little bird.” His eyes leveled steadily on mine as I looked back up. “You call that justice?” I swayed under the intensity of it. I was afraid to disagree with him, but I didn’t even know if I wanted to. There were a lot of times I watched Joker slip through Batman’s hands, free to blow up another shopping center, when he could’ve stopped him if he just-

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

He got up, cigarette hanging from his lips, gaunt eyes burning through the blue dark.

“I think you do.”

The sea hissed, and the wind writhed, and I watched as the night swallowed him up.

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baby-grayson · 4 years

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Sweet Enigma| Part 7

words: 2.7k tw: discussion of death/sickness, angst tags: @wheezeatmedolans @styles-dolan @prettyboydolan @evergreendolan @baby-turtles @dolanstacoma @kombuchagray @not-gbd @graysavant @someonetogray @dolansficsandpics @batgirl009 @voguekristens @letsgoget-high @crossedbone-kat @graysonsdollface

Ethan was angry. Ethan was very very angry at his brother. Outwardly, he knew to be understanding and compassionate in Grayson’s very trying time. But as a business partner, he silently wished that Grayson would end his romantic escapade with a past flame and return from Jersey to help Ethan launch two business endeavors: the lingerie & underwear line to extend their clothing company and the Wakeheart bath bomb launch.

When Ethan looked to Twitter, to find Sherry’s public break up with Grayson: all frustration left his heart. Even from 3,000 miles away, he could feel his twin brother crushed under the weight and impact of his own lovestruck decisions. Ethan managed to get him on the phone later that night, surprised to hear Grayson’s cool tone, “It’ll be alright E,” Ethan could hear some rustling from the background of the call, “I’m flying home—taking a red eye and I’ll be there in the morning.”

“You’re coming back?” Ethan was surprised: at both how confident Grayson sounded but also how quickly he was turning from his impromptu escape.

“Yeah but—yeah you can wear that one—sorry, but I want to go see Sherry. I want—I want to apologize in person, maybe see if I can do anything to make this better on her.”

Ethan’s eyebrows raised when he heard a girl’s voice in the background. He hadn’t asked Grayson about the photos of him and Kate, but he never pegged his brother to be unfaithful, even in the rockiest relationship, “Make it better?” Ethan mentally swore at his brother for being so idealistic, “You were caught out chea—with another woman Gray,” Ethan groaned into the receiver, “Are you sure going to see her is the right thing?” “Yeah I am,” Grayson sighed in acceptance, “I have to try—to try to apologize more than anything.” Grayson eyed Kate’s back as she innocently left his bedroom, “and E—I wasn’t with her, not like that when I was with Sherry. We’ll talk more when I get home but—those pictures make it look a lot worse than what it was.” “So, you’re saying you tracked down an old girlfriend to be nothing but platonic?” Instead of trying to mask the disbelief in his voice, Ethan leaned into it—hoping the comic edge took the sting off his words.

“No—” Grayson made a grumbling noise over the phone, “got it on in the shower a few hours ago.” “Gray!” “I know—I know. But she’s—I know that I need to apologize to Sherry and sort through everything right now before we can—before I have a chance with her. But like I said, I wasn’t with her when I was with Sherry, I wouldn’t lie to you about that E.” “Okay yeah bro, you didn’t have sex with her—sure. But your heart wasn’t with her?”

Ethan’s observation struck a chord in Grayson’s heart: joining the symphony of guilt that had been building in his soul over the past few weeks. For someone as familiar with pain as Grayson was, he hated causing it in others, especially when he considered them good people. He considered Sherry a good person, for all her faults. She was loyal, dependable, and positive. Despite his growing feelings for Kate, he was genuinely broken when he tried to face the emotional trauma, he caused his former fiancé.

In a white and gold bedroom in a house on the hills, Sherry Maddox clutched a framed photograph in her hands. Her long nails clacked against the glass of the frame while she sneered down at a happier version of herself, Grayson, Ethan, and Ethan’s ex-girlfriend on a beach in Tasmania. The only physical photographs Sherry owned were of her and Grayson from the past 18 months. She much preferred Instagram, but Grayson’s nostalgia had inspired her to collect happy memories of the two of them: memories that transformed her heart into a tainted space, left empty by the memory of who she thought he was.

Huffing, she slipped the photo from the back of the frame and pulled it out. She set the rose gold aside on her nightstand, letting it lean on a pile of a dozen others. In a swift motion, she passed the photograph through a shredder and watched as dozens of little strips came out the other end. The edge of the strips was not yet released from the shredder’s blades when she reached for another frame and began the process over again. Earlier that day, she commissioned an artist to construct a mosaic of herself, made from the shreds of her memories with Grayson.

The image of Kate shined in Grayson’s eyes, but her words made no sense to him, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”

His voice held the full weight of a dubious question, as if the letters did not belong sitting next to each other in the words they formed. His eyes looked down at Kate, not wanting to accept the truth that they would be separated, if just for a short while, after being reunited for the first time in years. Having her again just reminded his heart of how difficult it was to be without her. She nodded and assured him, “I need to go see my mom. For real. And you need to—you have stuff you need to do without me anyway.” Kate reached up to a hand through his hair and down the side of his face.

On the drive to Philadelphia from New Jersey, Kate thought long and hard about whether or not to tell her mother about Grayson. She considered the possibility that her mother might have seen the pictures of her and Grayson in the tabloids but decided that her mother never knew when a royal wedding was happening, much less when a scandal hit the papers. She tossed any thoughts of Grayson talk out of her head: it was not official enough to put on her mother’s radar. Instead, she spent the next few days at her mother’s bedside.

She held her mother’s hand and reminisced about the good old days. She told stories about California until she saw her mother’s eyes close, welcoming the sweet embrace of sleep. Kate tiptoed out of the room and gracefully closed the door behind her. She welcomed the warm aroma of pumpkin soup as she made her way down the stairs of the brownstone and to her grandmother in the kitchen. When she let her anxieties out and asked why this had to happen to their family, their tiny family who didn’t have people to spare, her grandmother put a knowing hand on her shoulder.

In a semi-hoarse, but loving tone Bethel insisted, “Family is more than the souls you share this Earth with dear. They’re the inspiration and the aspiration of everything you want to be and everything you can be. Your mother gave you everything you need to soar in this life and the next: I should know, I taught her everything she knows.” A few of Kate’s tears spilled onto the black and white tile of the kitchen floor while Bethel continued, “Your home isn’t an anchor: it’s a port in a storm, a refuge from the hardest of times but not a forever shelter because you were always meant to sail harder and farther than the rest of us.”

As Kate’s heart wrenched with the acceptance of the hardest parts of her life, Grayson’s twisted in agony on the other side of the country for a much different reason. Impulsive and filled with hubris, Grayson never formulated a plan for what he wanted to say to Sherry: he expected inspiration to strike him with brilliance in the moment. This is how he stupidly ended up pulling the door knocker on the Maddox West Coast home and waiting on the front steps.

Grayson’s eyes went wide with fear when the door cracked to reveal the lanky figure of Calvin Maddox standing afront of two massive security guards.

“Don’t you know when to quit?” Calvin’s voice was sharp as his elbows from where he crossed his arms.

Grayson stammered and twitched his jaw, his eyes excavating the scene for some kind of a way out.

“Now,” Calvin started with his low Southern drawl. He peered down his nose at Grayson, twisting his upper lip as he spoke “Let me tell you how this is –”

“—Daddy!” Sherry’s voice cut the tension with a shrill acidic screech. She moved between the security to stand in front of her father with crossed arms, in an identical pose to him. Grayson’s mouth went dry. “I’ll take care of it,” she asserted. Minding her father’s disappointed look, she turned to the security guards and waved with her hands, “Shoo.”

Sherry gracefully stepped out of the threshold and closed the door behind her, careful to match her father’s antagonistic stare. She huffed out of her nose and closed her eyes, her hand rested on the doorknob. She looked like she was about to open the door and go back inside when she said, “What could possibly be left for you here?”

Grayson opened his mouth to start to speak but was cut off by her harsh tone, “I mean—don’t try to tell me you want me back. I would never. I could never after you embarrassed me like that—no woman who knows her worth would return to a man who pulled your kind of stunt.” Her words fired from her lips like projectiles that battered at the sack of guilt Grayson had forged in his own stomach.

Grayson nodded and balled his mouth into a tight knot, “I know. You’re better than that. And I will say this until the day I die, but I’m so sorry Sherry. I—I –I—” Grayson reached out for something imaginary in the air, “I was fighting a war in my mind and I took you down with me as collateral and you—you never deserved that. You were never anything but good to me,” Grayson’s eyes welled in kindness and sadness. Sherry stared at him coldly and narrowed her eyes: still not convinced he wasn’t about to ask for her back.

“I would never want to be yours again,” Sherry retorted, trying to anticipate his next move, “The world would never believe it. The entire world would look at me like some kind of doe eyed, brainless Nancy.”

“You have every right,” Grayson nodded, breathing heavily and feeling his chest tighten with every syllable, “You—you ended us and you had every right to Sher—”

“Every right to?” her words came so slow they were slick on her tongue. “I had no choice to. What was I supposed to do?” she sneered, “post motivation quotes on Instagram and keep telling my family that it was just a phase?”

Grayson nodded and his sweaty palms found a home in his pockets. He looked at the floor, where he noticed an obtuse patch of dirt on the toe of his shoe. “I’m sorry,” his voice was barely above a whisper, “I’m so sorry. I’ll always be Sherry. I can only imagine what I put you through—and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

Grayson was shocked when she laid a delicate, graceful hand on his jaw. She drew him in and placed a puckered kiss on his cheek, “Grayson,” she stepped away from him, “you made me an underdog,” she placed a hand on the door knob, “and everyone loves an underdog.”

She turned to leave but twisted her upper body in his direction, “Was that all?” her tone was flat and devoid of any emotion.

Grayson gnawed at his lip and circled his head, “If—well—those pictures weren’t what it looked like—that girl, she’s—”

Sherry held out an intimidating, long, perfectly manicured finger in his direction. She spoke through gritted teeth, “Don’t.” She unlocked her jaw, “Don’t tell me a single word about her. I’m not about to spend the rest of my life swimming in those kinds of comparisons.” Sherry made a calculated move to swing her backside while walking away and closing the door behind her.

***

Later that night, Kate hung up the phone with Grayson as she leaned her backpacks against the dresser in her childhood bedroom. She dropped on her bed and eyed the science fair ribbons and faded polaroids strung on her wall. One of them showed her old cat, sleeping contently on a dusty couch. A few of them featured her friend Tabby: each iteration of Tabby wearing a different hair color. Kate never had many friends: tending toward shyness and introversion. Her eyes locked on one on the far left. She sat up and reached out for it. She thumbed the faded glossy surface carefully. The photo showed her and her mom on her 16th birthday: in front of a grocery store cake decorated with a few candles. She thumbed the surface again but standing up and walking over to put it in her bag to bring to California.

On her nightstand, her phone started ringing. She stared at the unknown number flashing across the screen. She questioned the chance of a paparazzi being on the other end: she swallowed hard and pushed the thought away that it might be Sherry. Throwing caution to the wind, she picked it up “Hello?”

“Hey..Kate. How are you?” Even three years down the line, she could tell the difference between Grayson’s voice and Ethan’s.

“Hi Ethan! Oh my god, how are you?” She turned on the speaker phone and sat cross legged on her bed: mimicking a pose she used to take when Tabby would come over to gush about boys. She hunched forward, leaning in as if Ethan was in the room with her. “I’m good.” Ethan started plainly, “Gray told me you were flying back tomorrow?”

“Yeah I should be there by lunch, I’m leaving at like 6 in the morning,” she started. She sighed and looked down at the phone. In that moment, she was struck by the fact that Grayson and her had yet to share the details of their mundane lives in the past few weeks, that had been anything but mundane. “Do you two still live together?”

“Yup,” Ethan let out a breathy chuckle, “I get to smell him every morning.” Ethan sucked in his top lip, wondering if it was too soon to make that joke in their relationship. “Um but yeah I wanted to call you, say hi.” He shrugged from where he stood, “Let you know that if you need anything, I’m here.” He was silent for a moment. “I’m happy the big guy came to his senses and found you again. I think the best version of my brother happened when he was with you.”

“That means more than you know Ethan.” Kate sighed and fell back against her pillows, “I just—this is so complicated. You don’t think that’s a bad sign or anything?” She spoke openly, feeling relief to have a place to candidly think out loud about the situation for the first time.

Ethan breathed through his nose and picked his words carefully, “It’s what you make of it. And as his brother, I know I’m--I’m biased, but all he wants is just an honest chance. He’ll come through if you let him. Just because things are twisted, doesn’t mean they’re broken.” “Thanks Ethan, that means more than you know.” Kate’s words fell heavy onto the phone. She sat up, as if somehow powered by the idea that twisted did not equal broken.

“Don’t stress about,” Ethan’s voice came with a promise, “If anything, you two taught me something about love last time around. You shouldn’t be worry about it.”

A/N: I feel like this part is kinda boring and I am sorry!

#grayson dolan #grayson x oc #dolan twins #youtuber #influencer #Ethan #ethan dolan #fanfic #angst #romance #fluff #concept #blurb #smut #long fic #chapter

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monchikyun · 3 years

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XVIII. bury a friend

It has been awfully quiet for about an hour now. As Connor ended his story with horrible dejection written all over his face, he turned around and initiated his stasis, refusing any and all comfort Gavin has been more than willing to provide. He did expect it to be something twisted and tragic like that, even imagined the worst possible scenario before being told how it really went down, just to be safe. If he’s honest with himself, the reality isn't very far from the most fucked up course of events his mind has been able to cook up. Still, it has been able to freeze the blood in his veins, which has paralysed his brain for the amount of time it took Connor to withdraw to his simulated sleep.

Gavin has already cursed himself for being so goddamn incompetent when it comes to emotional issues, blamed himself for the cold shoulder he didn't even have the chance to receive. He still does, as he lies glued to the bed, counting the cracks in the ceiling. His nicotine addiction is begging him to go into the cold and give it what it needs to survive, but the warmth of his current company is impossible to leave. His hand aches for the smallest touch, for some confirmation that Connor is still here with him. So he directs his sight to the body next to him, letting himself be mesmerised by the constellations of freckles decorating the android's bare arm. It's a painful view, knowing that he still doesn't have the right to connect those dots with his own defects, to interpose himself with this amazing, flawed being who has carved a hole in his chest and invaded his heart.

He remembers how the android was back when he found him on the roof, finally realising the enormous difference created by the months they’ve spent together. Last spring he dreaded going to work, feared that Connor just wouldn’t show up one day and he wouldn’t be able to see him ever again. Or worse, all that would remain of him would be the empty vessel that used to house his colourful soul, something that would kill his last hopes. He was tempted to become a well-meaning stalker then, to always be near for when a potential threat arrives, but that idea was too exhausting for him in the end, and so he left his worries to a silent prayer which guided him all through to summer.

With the warmth came the first smile and a myriad of gratitudes for his uncharacteristic kindness. That’s when they started having casual conversations, a big leap from the uncomfortable silences that filled their shared hours in the previous season. It was somewhere in July when he first regarded Connor as his friend, without his vigilant denial disagreeing that fact. Gavin has always found the android very attractive, like an eye candy specifically developed for his torment, but knowing there was a whole, unpolished person behind that plastic perfection has made his partner so much more appealing. He simply couldn’t stop himself getting drawn to him, despite all the countless attempts to emotionally distance himself from the one who lived inside his dreams. It was either letting himself be eaten by the monsters living in his past, or inviting in the one person who has the power to push them away from his corrupted mind.

For the longest time, he did neither. Though his inability to act on his feelings was due to more than just the inherent fragility of their source, he was simply afraid like he has always been when it comes to things that have the potential to hurt him. He'd rather be thrown in a paper shredder than to have his soul bruised again. Physical pain is easy to understand, straightforward in its healing. Time usually takes care of what needs to be done, but when it comes to the mind, sometimes even passing years will have little to no effect on the waste that has accumulated in someone’s innermost core. And Gavin didn't want to add onto the rotting pile of mess that has already been too much to bear as it is. But that was months ago, and as the earth was becoming colder, the warmth that had started budding inside of him turned into sweltering heat.

When autumn was nearing its end, he understood that he would soon burn up if he didn’t begin dealing with his problem. Maybe that’s how they got here, to a place where he doesn’t have to call his feelings inconvenience anymore, having breached the border that has kept them apart all these months. He wants to stop fighting it for good. This truth is sent to him from above as he puts his fingers on Connor's bare temple, tracing the ghost of the LED that used to signify his nature.

He'd like to say that the fact that one of them isn't human is what prevented them from giving into their hearts' desires, but that is far from the truth. Life is much more complicated than that, not as black and white as he wants it to be.

Gavin wishes their relationship was defined, so he could casually take the android in his arms and hold him away from the evil of the world, just for a short while, just so he can expand his collection of irreplaceable moments that he doesn't ever want to forget.

He considers getting just a bit closer, weighing all the pros and cons that ultimately mean nothing because deep down he recognises that their sentiments are shared. So he lowers his steadying hand down from Connor’s temple, ready to enfold everything his partner represents. But fortune isn’t on his side tonight, because as soon as he begins his movement, Connor wakes up with a jerk that betrays confusion lined up with its best friend, unease.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Gavin is more than familiar with the concept of being tortured by his own psyche as he lays it to rest, so he's aware of just how disorienting such illusions can be, how unrelentingly cruel and merciless they often are.

"No, no... I-... androids can't normally dream. I wasn't really sleeping, just… thinking. More than I should."

Gavin scoots over so their shoulders are just about touching, a decision his conscious mind has had no say in.

"Do you wanna talk 'bout it?" A quiet, tentative question just barely escapes his lips for fear he gets denied entrance into Connor's trove of dark secrets.

There is a short, excruciating period of silence before he gets his answer.

"You know how I can preconstruct any future scenario based on the information available to me?"

"Yeah? I mean… sorta. Can't really wrap my mind around your technical stuff most of the time." That's only partially a lie. He ought to tell him that he doesn't want to picture his inner workings because they kind of scare him, but maybe that would be too inappropriate given the frailty of this moment.

"Well… I saw you get buried…,” the android breathes out for reasons Gavin can only guess, “after you died, naturally."

"Naturally."

Why doesn't this even surprise him anymore. Of course Connor would paint himself the grimmest image possible, these are just his default settings. Give him the brightest colours and he'd draw you the darkest sky without a single star in sight.

"That's not… I'm sorry I,... I didn't mean to… I just couldn't stop it since it went that way and…"

"Hey, it's okay.” It hurts seeing Connor get like that, losing most of his coherency and feeling like he should apologise for it.

“How…," Gavin takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts down. Connor was the one who saw his funeral, not him, yet he feels like he’s been there already, among the dirt, not far from other decaying corpses. It’s an uncanny sensation. Not one he’ll be chasing any time soon.

"How did it make you feel?" A stupid question, really, and yet the best his brain has to offer.

"How do you think?" Gavin never knew that tears could fit an incredulous look, but the welling in Connor's eyes combined with the exasperation written all over his face is proof enough. Laughable, frankly, but he wouldn't dare. Not now, anyway.

"Guess it sucked then."

"That's putting it mildly." The android shakes his head and rubs his eyes before they have the chance to leak his sorrow.

"I… I don't ever want to go through that again,” he says, desperation piercing his voice through and through. It would be easy to dismiss these ungrounded worries if it wasn’t for the two flaming brown lights probing his own mossy pools like they intend to hypnotise them and seize control over his soul.

"You know that no one can force you to… be there... when it happens."

"You don’t get it! That's not the point. I don't want to live in a world where two of my best friends are nothing but a memory. I realise that’s selfish, but… "

Gavin does, by all means, get it, he just tried to help, somehow.

Connor’s eyes are turning into glass, threatening to melt again, so he closes his because God knows he does not possess the strength to witness it, not tonight at least.

"Maybe you should just relax Con, the future will come no matter what, but we still have the might to shape it as we like. To some extent. Anyway,... I promise…," he cuts the sentence midway to inhale a big gulp of oxygen, an action which results in a minor coughing fit.

"I promise to try my best to stay by your side as long as physically possible. " A statement which makes him want to cry instead.

"Does it mean you’ll stop smoking then?"

Oh, that devious android, of course this conversation would lead here, why wouldn't it. He glances at his nightstand, checking if the half-full box of cigarettes is still there, waiting for him to take its lethal fruit. Come to think about it, ever since their little trip his taste for cigarettes has somewhat diminished. Could be the fresher air just outside these thin walls, or the fact that Connor’s presence stimulates him enough already, so the need for nicotine is not as great as it is when he has to spend his time alone or surrounded by people who hold little to no significance to him, pretending like he doesn't crave something beyond the drug his body could very well function without.

"Yeah..., yeah, okay." Gavin buries his face in his hands, disbelieving his consent.

As he puts them away and folds them in his lap, he scroungers up a lazy smile meant to lighten up the heavy mood, to maybe clear Connor’s stormy sky a little.

"But only if you promise to try to be more optimistic… just a smidge.., " he makes a gesture with his two fingers to show how small of an effort would suffice.

Then he gives Connor a friendly pat on his thigh, after which he realises that he doesn't have to limit his displays of affection anymore, not after all the intimacy they have been willing to submit themselves to already.

So he lets his palm linger, allowing himself to rub gentle circles into the clothed skin. He doesn't have to be cautious with Connor, for the android isn't burdened with any biological organs that would make this situation uncomfortable for both parties.

"Life isn't all bad, I’m sure you came across that particular information at least once during your time on this Earth. Experienced it, even. No?"

"You're right."

A trace of a hesitant smile on Connor’s lips is all that it takes for Gavin to heave a sigh of relief. He’s too tired to think beyond that feeling. Everything inside of him, all the emotions and memories blend into a blurry mixture as he starts losing the ground under his feet.

But he must fight it, his friend still needs him awake...

"Let's go to sleep," Connor whispers, tugging him into a tender embrace. It’s warm and safe and he can't concentrate on anything but the wave of love pulling him under to the sweet slumber he’s always yearned for.

Indeed, life can be ever so wonderful sometimes.

@a-convin-new-year

#aconvinnewyear #convin #low-temperature burn #this one is long... comparably #also sorry it took forever to post #im trying my good

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tcstu · 3 years

Text

April’s Honorable Mentions

This was definitely a hard month to judge. Each of the entries below took a totally different perspective and it is very difficult to hold them to any kind of comparison. I hope you will take the time to read each of these stories and make sure to let the writers know if you liked one. I’m sure they would love to hear from you!

As a reminder, the piece for this month’s contest is an untitled work created by @beewithagun. If you like this picture as much as I do, make sure to check out Beewithagun’s page to see more original artwork!

(The Honorable Mentions below are listed in the order they were received and do not reflect a system of ranking.)

Title: The Fay

Written by: @daalseth

Deep in the forest lived a fay. Older than time, but as young as spring she had known every tree since it was a seed. She was the soul of the forest. When she was sad, the forest mourned, when she was happy the forest was bright, and when she was angry, well you didn’t want to be in the forest when the fay was angry.

The fay came across a fallen tree. It was lying on the ground, but it hadn’t blown down. It was cut off square at the base. Then she saw another. There was a clearing, a whole section of her forest that was dead and many of the fallen were missing. As the fay passed over she was horrified. What could have caused this?

Soon she came upon the camp of men where they were feeding the dying trees into grinders. The fay could hear the trees, still alive scream as they were shredded into wood chips. The fay’s horror grew deeper and she went to the men to plead for them to stop. Beg them to not kill the trees, her brothers and sisters. But as soon as she appeared the men grew angry at her interference. They yelled at her, threw things at her, they even tried to shoot at her.

The fay fled into the depths of the forest. She was heartbroken and began to cry. When she cried the rain began to fall. So deep was her sorrow that the rain came down in torrents and began to flood the blasted land. The fay went back to the camp. She saw that the men had stopped shredding trees. Now they were battling the waters. They had used machines to push earth up to block the water. The fay noticed that some metal barrels had been broken by the machine and were spilling their poison into the water. The water flowed across the clearing into the forest. Wherever the poison flowed, everything died. Fish, mouse, moss, and tree all died in agony.

The fay grew angry. The men could see fire in her eyes, and sparks illuminated her hair. The rain turned to thunder and bolts of lightning rained down upon the camp. They struck the shredder, and the building, and the piles of shredded trees, and the lightning struck the men, it ESPECIALLY struck the men. Electric hands reached into even the deepest hiding place to grab the terrified men.

Soon it was done. The fay came out and passed among the charred remains. She smiled a grim smile. The rain stopped and the sun came out. She was pleased. Though the fay mourned her lost friends, she knew the forest would heal with time.

At last she came to one man still alive. With his last breath he pleaded for help. She looked at him with cold eyes and turned away.

She was the fay of the forest and men were not her concern.

Title: “About Danny’s First Time”

Written by: @evanthenerd83

It was wonderful.

It was also kinda, sorta, a little gross.

There were a few glaring issues. Primarily the question of how Danny would get into the appropriate position, and how she would get into hers.

The swamp wasn’t all that big. It wasn’t even a swamp. The girl sat in a rather small pool.

Said pool was, of course, filled with water. And said water contained muck, yuck, and other things generally considered unpleasantly… sticky. Twigs and fallen leaves floated along the surface—

No. Not floated, exactly. They were stuck on the surface, a skin not unlike jellied jam.

Which meant the girl could only sit on her knees, or lay on her stomach with her head propped up in her arms.

Danny particularly liked that position. Her skin was green, lighter splotches running down her neck and her arms and her spine. Her hair spilled over bare shoulders.

And it also made certain things much more… pronounced. Danny felt his blood rushing down.

The girl tried to explain why she couldn’t leave the pool. Something about an ancient curse and her mother. A woman who, as she so elegantly put it, hated her guts.

“All of my sisters are much more, you know. Beautiful. Human… er? More human? Humanoid?”

Danny didn’t care if her sisters were literal goddesses. They’d never compare to her. He pulled off his shirt, then threw it over his shoulder. The skull-and-crossbones printed on the front disappeared.

The girl blushed. An even darker shade of green filled her cheeks.

“Anyway, you’d be better off going to them. I don’t have, like, much experience with… you know… uh… physical stuff.”

Danny plunged into the pool. The water wasn’t cold. It wasn’t warm, either. It was nothingness.

The girl shifted in place, while Danny took her hand. It was only slightly warmer than the water, which surprised him.

He kissed it. “Neither do I.”

The girl stared, eyes wide. Then, she glanced down, at his bare chest. Then, up to his face. Then, down to his chest, again, and then—

“Oh, what the hell?”

Soggy lips met lips.

She laid back.

He leaned forward.

Calm hands clasped behind his neck.

Awkward hands panicked.

He grabbed the straps of her swamp-weed dress, the not-actually-fabric tearing apart, as easily as paper. Certain things were suddenly freed.

“Oh. Crap. Sorry—”

“Don’t be.”

Legs thin as twigs wrapped around his waist.

She undid the zipper to his jeans, yanking them down, discarding his underwear at the exact same time. Something else was suddenly freed.

“Now, let’s just… a little to the—”

“L-like that?”

“Oh! U-uh. Y-yeah.”

What happened next was kinda, sorta, a little gross.

But also… wonderful.

Title: “Sing Me Out a Storm”

Written by: @winterrose42

She couldn’t remember the last time it had rained this much.

Though she could only imagine the chaos that must be raging above the pond underwater it was as calm and serene as it had ever been. Idly, she swung her feet through the loose sand and reeds, blurring her vision with the silt she kicked up. That was just fine with her, there had never been much to see in her small abode to begin with. Sand and rocks worn smooth and sparkly lined to bottom, with the sides sloping up gently until they met the shore. She could swim from one end to another in about three minutes if she went slowly, and it was just deep enough that casual swimmers wandering in wouldn’t see her unless they knew to look. It was perfect.

Closing her eyes she sighed contently and stood her ears up just a little bit more to catch more of the soft pattering of rain that was still filling up her home at a slow and steady rate. The frogs had long stopped their evening croaking and she knew the few fish that lived here wouldn’t have a care that it was storming above their home. The pond hardly ever changed and when it did it simply meant there was a meal to be had, which was always fine with her.

Perking up she strained her ears as something new invaded her serenity. A low, mournful note drifted down to her slowly, draping itself around her shoulders and weighing them down with the burden it carried. Tears pricked her eyes as she pushed off from where she’d been sitting, intent on seeing what could make such heart jerking noises. Their voice picked up again, another long, drawn out note that was almost more moan than song. Curious and slightly concerned she drifted closer to the hunched figure. The song wrapped around her so slowly she hardly noticed it, pulling her along as gently as a suggestion with little intention beyond calling for aid. Closer and closer she came, reeds fanning out with her hair as she kept as low as she could with her eyes still above water, squinting through the storm to see clearer.

Quickly, so quickly even her natural instincts were too slow, the comforting net turned to one full of malice, her limbs cinched so close she could hardly breathe as she finally caught sight of the face of her entrancement. Cold eyes devoid of the emotion their owner had been singing peered at her viciously from under soaked bangs. The notes heightened in pitch, rocking up to a scream as her own voice stuck fast in her throat. Deep in her bones she knew a siren was not meant to be trapped this way; enchanting one wasn’t something she had ever heard of, but feeling the last tendrils of the song fade away into a cold nothing she knew it didn’t matter.

She couldn’t remember the last time it had rained this much.

Untitled

Written by: Felix @that-dumb-space-kid

We’d been traveling for little over two days when we found her. Cass had insisted on taking breaks over our journey, and, with some persistence, I was able to convince Sage to go along with her idea. The lake she’d found was far enough from the path that no one would notice us but close enough that we wouldn’t get lost. Those were Sage’s requirements, our quest would remain as secret as possible. They said word would travel fast about three teenagers going off to battle an evil force. Of course, they were probably right. It was raining when we finally reached the lake. Sage set about surveying the area, making sure nobody was around, and Cass began digging through a basket for some food, leaving me with nothing to do. I decided to go down to the lake to get some water. I couldn’t hear quite right over the rain, but I could’ve sworn I heard crying as I walked up to the water.

When I reached the shore, I was certain I that’s what I was hearing. I looked out over the lake, and that’s when I saw her. She didn’t look like the monsters Sage warned us about, but she didn’t look human either. I was so entranced by who she was or what she could be that I didn’t hear Cass and Sage approach me. Cass opened her mouth to speak, when the creature in the lake snapped her head to us.

“Who are you?” She sounded almost human. If I hadn’t been looking at her, I would have assumed she was. Sage and Cass immediately started arguing over whether or not we could trust her. Not that that was surprising. They argued over everything. The creature and I held eye contact, unnoticed by the others. Eventually I spoke, silencing my friends’ argument. “I’m Oliver. Who are you?”

“Nimue.” For a second her tears stopped, and it seemed as though a venom overtook her. “They destroyed my village.” The moment passed and she was crying again.

“Who?” Sage glared at Cass as she asked.

“I don’t know. Darkness started pouring down into the water, and I heard voices and then nothing. When I woke up, I was the only survivor.”

“Sound exactly like what we’re after,” Sage muttered. “It’s too much of a coincidence.”

Cass slapped them. “No, it’s not.”

I stepped into the lake and offered my hand to Nimue. “If I’m right, we’re already looking for the thing that destroyed your village. How would you like to join us in stopping it?”

Before Sage could yell at me, Nimue nodded and grabbed my hand. She climbed out of the water and became the fourth member of our quest.

#writing contest #writeblr #writing community #honorable mentions #april contest #april writing contest #ekphrastic fiction contest #ekphrastic fiction

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ryttu3k · 4 years

Text

Night Road quote text dump, because I've been deluging a friend with quotes and want a place to keep them all.

We're a bit like that, yeah:

They direct you to a hulking Malkavian named Severian, and the sullen giant directs you in turn to Gibberish Mike.

Fortunately, it turns out that "Gibberish" Mike is just Australian.

Practical concerns:

"That's it!" Elena says, leaning over your shoulder. "That's his yacht. Oh, and this is all about him. Very useful." She snaps a picture of the email with her phone, then the two of you get out of there before the technician returns. You head down the elevator and then back to Elena's Datsun.

You're so pleased by how well that went that that it takes you a few minutes to remember you're in Arizona.

"His yacht?" you finally ask.

Fun with bungalow ownership:

After a day of fitful dreams, you throw on your leather jacket and engineer boots and get ready for another night. You step outside to check your Integra. A neighbor parks next door in her Ford Super Duty and gives you a friendly little wave. You've been practicing this. You're ready.

"Howdy, neighbor."

"Howdy!" she responds before heading inside.

Fucking nailed it. You're one of them.

This is legitimately how I got the Messy Critical achievement:

You grab a hoe.

You rip through the underbrush with savage efficiency, staying a few steps ahead of the pushcart as Julian scans. You work in a trance, chopping and hammering. Only when you hear Julian shouting do you realize that you're holding a busted length of wood.

The head of your hoe is buried in the beautiful round black door of Prince Lettow's Rolls-Royce.

Raúlblocked:

You head to Raúl's place, but he's not there. You find a note hidden above the door that reads, "Problems in Phoenix. (Jesus Christ has returned? Stole a car?) Contact me right away for major jobs and I'll come back. Already missing you." And there's a ProtonMail address with some of the security contact codes you agreed upon earlier.

But it looks like Raúl will be occupied dealing with the Lord and His automotive crimes, and he won't be able to wander around Tucson with you.

Pattermuster doesn't get paid enough:

"Hello? What? Well, the blood can't be 'everywhere.' Surely that's an exagger—okay—okay, fine. Okay. Okay, I'll get—okay. Five minutes. What? No, Sissy Spacek. No, Sissy—you're thinking of Rosemary's Baby. No, Carrie had the prom scene. With all the pig's—yes, it was Sissy Spacek, I'm sure. That much blood? Jesus. Okay, hold—five—okay, five minutes."

Valid question:

Do they teach ax fighting at Quantico?

Julian Meyer:

"Man, it's been a while," Julian says, leaning against your door frame. "I remember the nights we spent keeping that elder asleep with offerings of blood, the days curled up together in the desert. Wasn't it romantic?"

"That never happened, Julian. You made up our relationship and tried to sell it as a novel until the old Prince of Tucson threatened to execute you." '

"Vampire romance was big at the time," Julian says with a shrug. "And I changed our names. I still don't know why no one wanted to buy it."

Dammit I thought I was done with uni:

"Awful," Dr. Caul says with a little shudder. "But now your real studies can begin."

Your real studies consist of a syllabus (thirty pages) and a trunk full of books (35,000 pages).

"Are you disappointed, Rook?" she says with a little laugh. "Were you expecting something more mystical? A bolt of cosmic enlightenment? A conversation with your Holy Guardian Angel, who would reveal the answers you seek?" She bangs the trunk as technicians get ready to load it into your car. "Get reading."

An enthusiastic boss:

You reunite with Pattermuster down in the morgue, where he's pumping his fists as a thin-blood on a gaming laptop watches with a worried expression because she can't tell if he's incredibly happy or insanely mad.

"Rook!" Pattermuster shouts, his eyes full of Blood, "you did it! You brilliant child, you did it! We're safe. Oh, thank God, we're safe." He pulls you into an embrace, then punches a brick wall because he's so happy, showering all three of you in dust.

I thought that was Finland?:

You catch all sorts of whispered gossip as you cross the rooftop garden.

"Camp Scheffler?"

"Gone. That Outlander courier had something to do with it."

"I heard the Russians helped the SI burn it down."

"That's ridiculous. There's no such thing as Russians."

Pot, kettle:

"Julian," the Eagle Prince says, "you will locate Reremouse with the equipment Vane brought. Once we find him, we will strike shortly before dawn. I have prepared a stake sufficient to pierce even his old hide."

"That easy, huh?" Julian says.

"No, but—"

"Your plan is ridiculous, convoluted, and dangerous," Julian says.

"And you have a better one?"

"Absolutely," Julian says. "We use Stonehenge to teleport him to Mesopotamia."

The must-have appliance:

He's a black outline in the glow of a single yellow bulb... and then the bats descend.

And then the bats get torn to pieces, because Pattermuster pulls his two katanas out of nothing and turns into an undead Cuisinart for a few seconds.

But aesthetic:

Leave it to a vampire to bring a sword to a gunfight.

It is pretty cool though:

"Oh my God," Julian says. "You're going to use the car engine to fling Prometheus into Reremouse's heart."

"Dammit, Julian, I am not doing this because it's fun. I am scrambling for every advantage I can because we only have one chance to stop Reremouse, and if we fail, the Second Inquisition will descend on us like wolves on a wounded deer."

"It's still cool," Julian mutters.

A e s t h e t i c:

The Camarilla looks unkindly on vampires who dress like Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, but what's the point of being dead if you can't look the part?

#JustToreadorThings:

You sleep badly and awaken to an aching and acute Hunger that crowds out other thoughts. But when you approach the Rolls-Royce, you find Lettow and Julian seated on a blanket, evidently in fine spirits. They're holding stainless steel mugs as they watch the last purple streaks fade from the western sky. There's something perfect about the composition before you: the two Kindred in their working clothes with their backs to you, the blue-black clouds, the faraway mesas framing the scene.

"I fear we've lost the Aesthete," Lettow muses. "Luka? Luka!"

It's just good sense:

A lot of keypads use 0911 as an emergency override for police and fire. That doesn't work, but a common default password causes the elevator doors to slide right open.

Change your defaults, people.

They draw the line at 31%:

Not all problems can be solved by putting a brick through a window, but at least 30 percent can.

Descriptive:

That's when your Nissan makes a sound like a bunch of typewriter keys dropped in a blender, and the whole truck lurches to a halt.

Munch munch:

"There are tags attached to all the payroll numbers," you say. "FNMA. PFC. What are they?"

"FNMA?" Antonio says. "That's Fannie Mae. The loan commission. Privatized in 1968. PFC…"

"Pavlodar Fried Chicken," Janet says. "Damn Commies."

Courier what did you do:

When you try to start your Mercedes, it vomits black smoke. That's not good. You kill the engine.

"Pop the hood," Julian says. "I'll get it up and running."

He checks the motor. There's a long pause.

"Did you melt a bunch of cheese in here or something, Vane?"

“I remember crawling out of a Nieuport 20 outside Gibraltar," Prince Lettow says. "The engine looked like that. Of course, ours had been on fire."

"Engine looks like Vane fed a bunch of sardine cans into a paper shredder," Julian says.

Almost!:

So Lettow is cute. I'm going to talk to him and see if he might be interested in a handsome young courier who almost has his own car.

Scientist life:

A beaker of cold coffee on her desk has a pencil in it; she flicks the pencil away and drains the entire beaker, then looks you in the eyes.

Domesticity:

"Wow, Vane," the Banu Haqim says, "did you finally settle down. Where's the wife and kids? Why don't you get me a beer, and we can talk about football and quote some Bible verses at each other?"

I really want to know where the fake werewolf came in:

"...so the whole fucking Cadillac is on fire, and I'm kicking and kicking, trying to get the window to break!" Dove says.

"Right, right, because —" You're trying to follow this story, and it isn't easy.

"Because I'm still handcuffed to the guy who was pretending to be a werewolf, right. And I finally kick through the window, rip half the dead fake werewolf's arm off to get free — I'm out of my fucking mind now, with all the fire — and I finally crawl out of the car."

"And get clear before it — do they blow up?"

"Escalades? I dunno, probably not," Dove says. "But anyway, I'm finally clear, so I run across the parking lot, laughing because I'm just thrilled not to have met final death chained up to that guy. And I barely have time to look up before Lettow comes screaming around the corner in a Ford Bronco with the lights off and runs me over. I was in the wrong Cadillac the whole time."

"No!"

"Two black Cadillac Escalades in the parking lot of the Marriott," Dove says. "How was I supposed to know which one — anyway, that's why I don't get to drive anymore. That's why Lettow wants assholes like you driving."

"Driving what?" you ask. "Because I need a car."

Dove shakes her ugly head. "I'll get you something. Give me a few hours to work on it, and I'll send someone to find you."

Cars are everything:

You still don't know how Julian plans to go from "divert a few funds and data streams from the Camarilla" to "transform the global information panopticon in a way that ends the Masquerade but keeps vampires safe," but he has a nicer car than last time, so he must be doing something right.

Guys please be nice to Raul:

"There appears to be a vampire hunter outside," he says, "investigating your electric vehicle."

"Send your bird to peck his eyes out," Julian says. "I'm not going outside until I find my sneakers."

Cheese?:

Over the next few minutes, you cough up a glorious wad of bullshit involving MKUltra, the Philadelphia Experiment, Star Wars (the movie), Star Wars (the Reagan-era government program), Jackson Pollack's CIA connections, the history of federal cheese, and the secret mastermind behind the seventies gas crunch.

In fairness it's a pretty rare sound:

You're way up in Limberlost, near the mall and the Walmart, when Riga settles on the roof of a Safeway. You reverse into the parking lot in case you need to get out fast and scan the cars at the pumps. It looks quiet. Then you hear a faint ringing.

The sound is musical, hypnotic. It reminds you of your childhood, and for a long time you just sit there in the driver's seat, remembering what it was like to be alive. But what is that sound? What memory from…?

Oh, right.

The pay phone next to the ice merchandiser is ringing.

It's a skill!:

Not every member of Clan Toreador joins their august ranks because of their great beauty or artistic genius. Some people end up vampires because of their extensive knowledge of Adobe After Effects.

Big Pirates of the Caribbean energy:

"I'd kind of like to give Lettow here a horse and a sword and let him tear through an entire police barracks," Julian says. "Tell me that wouldn't be fun."

"One thing I learned from Napoleon," Lettow says, "is that the most powerful cannon is useless if you cannot see your target. We know the location of one small encampment. That isn't enough to start shooting."

"You knew Napoleon?" Julian asks.

"Napoleon was my horse," Lettow says.

#vampire the masquerade #vtm night road #vtmnr #vtmnr spoilers

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cornholio4 · 4 years

Text

Ladybug is Team Cap part 2

@nobodyfamousposts

Decided I wanted to show the reason of Ross and Tony.

Former US Secretary of the State Thaddeus Ross fumed as coming up to the first days of his appearance in court for war crimes; his lawyer was once again telling him that his best bet would be to plead guilty to the charges and try to have his previous military record allow him to get a lighter sentence. He kept thundering that he will not admit defeat as he knew that he was right and he was doing what was best for the world and to keep the so called Superheroes in line. Finally his lawyer ended up snapping that he was not a subordinate for him to bark orders for and if he kept it up then he will be resigning and Ross could either final another lawyer or represents himself.

Ross was furious about this as he remembered how this whole thing had started: not the beginning of the Sokovoia Accords as they were going well implementing them and using his position to convince undecided or Anti-Accords nations to sign while hunting down Steve Rogers and his band of rogue Avengers.

Then some brat heroine of Paris who calls herself Ladybug put her nose into politics when she should have stayed out of this; telling a live TV network that she won't be signing the Accords if France does not and she had the nerve to verbally attack the Accords and to claim that the Representatives were falsely blaming incidents on teh Avengers when it wasn't warranted. The naive brat had no idea what she was talking about and that strong measures that to the normal mind would consider harsh and unfair were necessary to protect the world.

However the Ladybug girl was popular enough that her speech inspired an Anti-Accords Movement in France and this was worrisome. During a conference when the Accords Committee would be trying to sway the French Government to their line of thinking; Stark was sent to convince her to play ball but he had failed. Of course he did because why did he think he would succeed when he had utterly failed in bringing in Rogers and Barnes as well as left him out to dry when Rogers broke his rogues out of the Raft.

He had to go to his backup plan and hire a brand of Mercenaries with Chitauri technology powered weapons; they were made as part of a military and government operation that he was helping to lead. They would attack the so called heroes of Paris and retrieve the artefacts that gave them their powers; they didn't belong in the hands of children anyway who had no business playing heroes. They could be better served in his hands to enforce the Accords.

He was curious when they were defeated by Ladybug with help from Rogers and his rogues; he swooped in with his men to arrest them only to meet resistance from the nearby citizens who were hostile to him and his men. The French police joined in and shouted to his men to drop their weapons.

Then came the French Prime Minister and his men and he actually went straight to Ladybug , Rogers and the Rogues to give them their thanks and called Rogers' team Avengers. He went to talk to the Prime Minister but then the French government officials handcuffed him telling him he was under arrest. His ranting was met with hostility from the Prime Minister as his officials had Ross's men disperse unless they wanted to join him.

Later that day he heard from his colleagues from the Accords committee who said that after his arrest; the French President and the Prime Minister ended negotiations with the Committee telling him that the decision is now final that France will have nothing to do with the Accords and they can might as well leave.

He was furious to learn that more European countries were now withdrawing from the Accords and the US was now joining in the Anti Accords sentiment. His fury and horror was upmost when he learned that the US will be throwing him to the vultures so to speak. While the US haven't signed the treaty with the International Criminal Court; the big international incident of the Secretary of the State of the US overstepping bounds and authority as well as trying to enforce Accords in another country that the country didn't sign was now growing big. The US Government couldn't afford to back him since it would hurt international relations so he was fired, any diplomatic immunity withdrawn and given over to UN Court for War Crimes.

He heard all this from a messenger hours after seeing the President of the US give a live conference disavowing him and telling him that the US will not have him in the government anymore; a war hero of his record and they couldn't even directly contact him to say he was fired in person before having to learn it off the news!

He had attempted to get help from his government and military contacts in the US but that failed as they were steering clear off him especially with the investigations into the Chitauri weapons and his name had already come up so they couldn't afford to try and help him. Then finding out that the Accords Committed threw him out and were trying to save the Accords itself.

He was fuming at the injustice of it all especially upon learning Rogers and his rogues were welcomed back with open arms.

While trying to think of a way to defend his actions, he heard a write in candidate had won the US Election so hopefully it would be someone smart enough to know that the Avengers and other so called Heroes needed to be kept on a tight leash. He ranted in a righteous fury of it all being a joke when he learned who the next President would be...

*Page Break*

Tony Stark was left along from the other Avengers wondering how it all went wrong; he was sure the Accords were the answer. They all needed to be kept in check; Rogers and his supporters only made things more difficult especially after Barnes was the prime suspect of the UN bombing. They should have played ball and stayed out of things.

He thought he had taken it well when he decided to help Rogers when learning who the real bomber was only to learn that Rogers had known that his buddy had murdered his parents for who knows how long. He got Rogers' letter but concentrated on running Stark Industries and working with the Accords Committee.

Someone else made the Accords difficult; a young heroine (who would only be a year younger than his mentee Peter Parker) called Ladybug publicly called out the Accords and got her country on her side. She was too young to know how not black and white issues like these are.

He convinced Ross to leave it to him when they would go to Paris for the negotiations to try and convince the French government to sign. He tracked her down and tried to convince her to join up as well as give him a chance to explain the good that the Accords could do as well as work to fix the public sentiment issue her actions were caused. He said he wanted her to convince his partner Chat Noir and the other temporary allies she seems to have to sign as well. Ladybug it seemed was more confident that he thought at her age and was stubborn; he had to admit that it was a bit far when he gave an implied threat that if she doesn't sign then she won't have many options when she does mess up or when they convince France to sign.

Ladybug was absolute telling him that this was not up for discussion and there is no way that she is sitting back and do nothing when people need her help now and the villain Hawk Moth's Akumas are on the loose. He had learned about this magical bad guy with his butterflies but he grew making an intimidating stance saying they will work out the details later.

It seemed that he was unprepared since unlike Peter Parker; she was not looking for any parental figures (already having loving parents he would have guessed) for a wise mentor. She just coldly told him that they were done and it was only then did he realise the French citizens had became hostile against him as well.

He had to retreat and it seemed that now all he accomplished was turning France against him and the Accords as well. Then there were the issue of the mercenaries that Ladybug took down with help from Rogers and his rogues and they had the support of not only the French citizens but the Prime Minister as well. Ross had to go and forget he didn't have power in France and get himself arrested as well.

Later in the next scheduled meeting there came in the French Prime Minister and President who were furious, they cut off all talks saying their decision is now final and will be made public: they will not be signing the Accords and any further discussion or meetings will be cancelled. This sent them in a panic trying to give them graphs, studies they had concocted and documents that were to convince them but the President had them all given to an aide and said to throw the lot in the nearest paper shredder.

Ross it seemed allowed his ego to ruin everything as that domino led to the downfall of the Accords in Europe but then the world and the US as well with Rogers and his rogues welcomed back and Rhodey and Vision were more than happy to welcome them back as if nothing had happened. He just stayed in his office cursing Ross especially after learning that he had orchestrated the attack in the first place.

He had resigned from the Avengers yet again, not wanting to face Rogers and think about how to go forward. He wasn't very happy to learn that Rogers had unwittingly won the US Election despite not entering. At the inauguration he found Peter talking to a French girl that Rogers had invited and guessed it must be Ladybug especially with a glare that she had sent his way. He had thought about asking Peter to help him patch things up with him and the French Heroes but realised it would be a terrible idea.

He just kept thinking about what went wrong...

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makeste · 4 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 280: I Am Red Riot

Previously on BnHA: The pro heroes over at Gunga Mountain struggled against Gigantomachia and the League until finally Midnight was all, “fuck it, let’s just put the kids in charge.” Momo immediately got to work organizing a sophisticated counteroffensive involving an exploding swamp, a bunch of sedative cans, and a massive coordinated team attack. I gotta tell you guys, it’s really something to watch a large-scale group attack in which all of the team members are actually competent. I don’t know what Japan put in the water when all these sixteen-year-olds were growing up, but that shit has paid off big time, and basically the only reason Machia hasn’t gone down yet is because he cheated and was all “sneeze” and the kids all got blown away because they are little and because he is really, really big. Anyway so then Dabi set the forest on fire because he loves doing that, and the chapter ended with Mina using her Acid Man attack to make herself FUCKIN’ FIREPROOF so she could charge through the woods ready to save the day and stuff!

Today on BnHA: Mina launches herself straight at Machia like the beautiful corrosive wild child she is, but then everything goes to shit when she recognizes him from that one time she almost got murdered while giving a strange man directions. Just when it’s looking like she might get killed for real this time, KIRISHIMA SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY AND SHOVES HER TO SAFETY AND IS ALL “BOTTOMS UP” AND HEAVES A LITERAL CAN OF WHOOPASS RIGHT IN MACHIA’S MOUTH. At this point the grown-ups are all “oh wow look at that, time for us to take over for you kids now, don’t worry we’ve got it all under control” because Oh Those Wacky Pros and all that, but at least Majestic finally deigns to show his face so that’s a plus! The chapter ends with us cutting back to the Jakku battle, where Tomura is curled up in a little ball all “curse you heroes, how dare you [checks notes] save people all the time”, which is a real take and a half. Anyway so things are looking up, which can only mean everyone is about to die. That’s how it works, right. Shit.

HOLY SHIT LOL

THIS IS MINA. SHE’S REALLY COOL AND SHE CAN MELT PEOPLE. um, the hell kind of tagline is that?? holy fucking shit?? “melt and succumb”?? IS THE SUCCUMB PART REALLY NECESSARY. IS THAT NOT ALREADY IMPLIED. it’s like saying “die and then perish”, which actually sounds really badass and I’m about to make it my new go-to threat actually so you know what never mind. where the fuck were we anyway

“IS EVERYONE SAFE” some absurdly bad-at-gauging-situations kid from class B is yelling while the forest is on fire and all the kids are recovering from having been catapulted fifty miles by King Dodongo’s windy yeet breath. of course they are safe, sweet child. of course everyone is absolutely fine, why the fuck would they possibly not be safe after something like that

KAMINARI NOOO MY POOR SWEET BABY

AT LEAST HE’S STILL CONSCIOUS ENOUGH TO MAKE STUPID JOKES. holy shit this baby got concussed to hell and back and then Machia turned him and the others into precipitation and he wasn’t in any kind of state to even try to land safely, I hope to god someone caught him

Sero is all “is there anyone still in range!” and damn, I like that he’s taking charge and trying to regain their momentum. he is so criminally underrated. I feel like he’s in the top six or seven of class 1-A kids who I would most trust to take charge. which is very high praise because that class has a lot of charge-taking kids

SPEAKING OF

it “probably” can’t get through her acid, she says. my god. sometimes the spirit of Plus Ultra just takes ahold of these kids and it’s like, I want to ruffle their hair proudly and then grab them by the shoulders and shake them vigorously because WHERE EVEN IS YOUR SELF-PRESERVATION WHY DO NONE OF YOU HAVE IT GODDAMMIT AIZAWA REALLY SHOULD HAVE EXPELLED YOU GUYS AFTER ALL

man. and yet I really do love this “be the one who can do it” stuff. what a heroic fucking attitude dfjfklks. I’ll just go put on my humongous sandwich board that reads GIANT FUCKING HYPOCRITE and go stand in the corner

damn it this week’s scan is annoyingly dark, it’s really hard to tell what’s going on but it looks like the pros are attacking Machia and the League at long last. way to go guys it only took you seven years but you finally hopped to it

MINA WHY IS THE ACID COMING OFF OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. PUT IT BACK!!!

I KNOW SHE’S NOT GONNA DIE DAMMIT BUT AHHHHH AHHHHHH AHHHHHHHH

okay what the hell is up with these weird zen proverbs though

“your fear stricken heart”, “the shortest path”, what the fuck even is this. whose thoughts are these. normally these translations are honestly decent enough but I gotta say this time around I’m totally being thrown for a loop lmao

(ETA: FYI I’m only just now realizing that he was saying the shortest path to Master, as in Tomura, not “master” as in to master something fjkldjskf lol some delayed reading comprehension there. so basically he’s just bitching about how annoying these little “flies” are proving to be.)

JESUS CHRIST

okay is it just me, or is Gigantomachia suddenly showing intelligence in his eyes instead of mindless animal instinct the single most pants-shitting thing you’ve ever seen?!! holy shit. the way he just LOOKS at her out of nowhere all of a sudden?? holy fucking shit DO NOT HURT MT. LADY OH MY GOD I’M FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. AND DON’T YOU DARE HURT MINA EITHER!! JUST FUCKING DIE AND PERISH

but also though, is that recognition in Mina’s eyes?? because even though this dude is 80 feet tall now, her encounter with him a couple years back had to have been one of the more memorable experiences of her young life. damn I was wondering when this would finally come into play

OKAY YES THE NEXT PAGE IS A FLASHBACK OH SHIT

this has nothing to do with anything but Mina just has the prettiest hair, btw, and this “just woke up covered in acid” look is a particularly good one on her. it looks so soft and fluffy, like damn. this is like Shouto-hair-billowing-in-the-wind levels of pretty here

NOOOOO

oh my god holy shit?! putting her back in the school uniform to show the slip in her mentality is a PUNK MOVE, HORIKOSHI, and I respect the shit out of you for it you manipulative bastard. goddammit. bracing myself for the incoming wave of Mina feels... here they come... they’re a lot... let’s see if I can latch on to anything I can actually figure out how to describe in words

okay well here’s one, my respect for Mina’s bravery just went up like a thousand percent in this instant, because now we know this was actually such a traumatizing event for her that hearing Machia’s voice again years later immediately sent her into a full-blown flashback. she was that scared and yet she still stood up to him and didn’t hesitate. and now I’m remembering how her knees just buckled right afterwards, and just...

and this visual, though!! what a brutally effective way to show that in her mind she went right back to being that scared middle schooler again for a moment. god fucking damn. holy shit you guys is Kirishima fireproof because if he comes waltzing out of the woods next I don’t even know what I’m gonna do. lolo kids getting traumatized left and right this arc is fucking merciless

um eXCUSE ME!?!?!

YOU MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF SHIT LET GO OF HER RIGHT NOW OR I AM GONNA LOSE IT!!

THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!!

holy shit he could have fucking snapped her neck like that??! I don’t like this at ALL WHAT THE FUCK

OKAY SERIOUSLY

I’M GONNA NEED ANOTHER KID TO STEP IN HERE WITH A LAST MINUTE SAVE LIKE RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, OR I AM GOING TO THROW MY COMPUTER OFF A FUCKING CLIFF AND MOVE TO THE DESERT AND BECOME A HERMIT AND NEVER READ MANGA ON THE INTERNET AGAIN

OH THANK GOD

TODAY WE SPELL “REDEMPTION” K-I-R-I... ETC. THERE’S A LOT OF LETTERS BUT YOU GET THE DRIFT!!!

holy fucking shit y’all. I mean, it’s not like it came out of nowhere, like the setup could not have been more obvious, but let me assure you that none of the predictability lessened the actual impact of this moment in the SLIGHTEST. Horikoshi really wrote a flashback scene one hundred and thirty five chapters ago and planted it, watered it once a day, and patiently waited for THREE LONG YEARS until he could finally harvest the badass fruits of his labor in the midst of his most epic arc to date. I’m so fucking hyped I’ll even forgive him for sacrificing Mina’s big moment and having her get rescued, because it’s such a good reversal. he didn’t freeze up this time. he promised himself he’d never freeze again and he didn’t and he saved her and god fucking damn. anyways so now Machia is going to treat him like a fucking action figure though but he’s a solid little dude he can take it hopefully

NO WHAT IS THIS!!! STOP KILLING MY MOOD!!!

she better not be dead!! SHE BETTER NOT FUCKING BE DEAD I WILL RUN MY PC THROUGH A PAPER SHREDDER AND GO AND LIVE ALONE WITH MY FEELS ON A MOUNTAIN IN TIBET

CHINTETSU!!

well we know he’s fireproof. another callback at the least expected of times lmao

so Tetsu’s all “yeah Kirishima’s not really all that fireproof but he totally ran over here anyway to save you. oh wait that probably wasn’t very comforting of me to say.” maybe that’s why it seems like he might not have actually said it out loud, now that I’m reading this over again. good call Tetsu

ARE YOU STANDING UP AND CASUALLY STRETCHING OUT YOUR BACK

I CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE HOW MUCH I HATE THIS GUY RIGHT NOW. WE’RE REACHING LEVELS OF HATRED RESERVED FOR NAZIS AND PEOPLE WHO WALK TOO SLOWLY IN FRONT OF ME IN A GROUP SHOULDER TO SHOULDER INSTEAD OF SINGLE FILE SO I CAN PASS IN FRONT OF THEM. YOU’RE A FUCKING TOURIST IN NYC YOU PIECE OF SHIT

lmao he’s just dropping this random hero person and letting him fall to his doom wheeeeee

remind me to leave all of the League of Villains’ texts on read for the foreseeable future. goddamn. I still love you guys but also, fuck you so damn hard

OHO A LIL RED SCALY BOI ISN’T DONE YET!!

real talk, just between you and me, I’ll lower my voice so that Kirishima can’t hear. so uh. we all agree that even if Kiri is fireproof and squishproof, that little can of tranquilizer juice technically shouldn’t have been, right? but we’re all going to hush and pretend like it was anyway for the sake of not spoiling his big moment. even though I am crossing my arms and tapping my chin with my finger while doubtfully glancing to the side

anyway here he goes!

YEAH KIRI GO GETTIM [stage whisper] there it is, in his pocket. should’ve burned. we won’t discuss it

OH FOR FUCK’S

TOGA YOU LITTLE WIENER BUT WHAT’S THIS ABOUT “MY HALF” NOW????

DID HE GRAB MINA’S MID-AIR?? IS HE REALLY REACHING INTO HIS BACK POCKET AND FUCKING UNZIPPING IT RIGHT NOW WHILE HOLDING ON TO NOTHING AND PRESUMABLY FALLING THROUGH THE AIR. DID A LITTLE BIT OF OCHAKO’S QUIRK RUB OFF ON YOU OR WHAT

OH SNAP SON HE REALLY DID THE THING HOLY SHIT???

AND TOKAGE FLEW OVER AND SAVED HIM AND NOW TANKS ARE SHOOTING AT MACHIA, LMAO WHAT IS THIS. MOMO HOW MANY GUNS DID YOU MAKE

Shouji standing there trying to be useful any way he can. are eyeballs really that much more effective if you make them the size of tennis balls and hold them up above your head. legit question, I don’t really know how eyes work

okay after 45 seconds of googling this my impression is that no, they are not. well good on you for giving it the old college try anyway though Shouji

oH MY GODLKDLK?!?!

DID SHE SAY WHAT I THOUGHT SHE SAID, DID SHE SAY MAJESTIC, ARE WE GONNA SEE MASJKESLTKCI DSFLKJL

oh my god he really is the Magic Man dude??? TIME TO DUST OFF MY INVENTORY OF ADVENTURE TIME QUOTES

(ETA: AHH FATGUM AND GANG ORCA ARE THERE TOO YESSSS!)

“that’s enough depending on some interns” oh, okay. now that they’ve done all your work for you. I see, I see

so now Gigantomachia is LITERALLY UNHINGING HIS JAW I can’t fucking believe this dude you guys. everything he does is just like, ARE YOU SERIOUS

please go to sleep already. thanks to you I have my keyboard set to capslock as the default for the duration of this chapter

ARE YOU SERIOUS YOU FUCKING WAITED UNTIL MAGIC FUCKING MAN SHOWED UP TO TEACH US MAGICAL LIFE LESSONS AND NOW YOU’RE CUTTING BACK TO THE TOMURA FIGHT?? WHY DO WE KEEP LETTING THIS MAN GET AWAY WITH THIS

oh my god you guys they really fucking did it

I guess that Howitzer slash fire punch combo really was that potent huh

anyway so now Endeavor is standing there making a big speech instead of reaching into Tomura’s pocket and taking the bullets that he doesn’t know about and shooting him with one asap. dammit Endeavor

aaaaand Tomura is firing back with the wisdom of Shimura Fucking Kotaro of all people

well you sure convinced me. damn I don’t know what I was thinking. heroes suck you guys. how dare they help other people all the time

so now he’s all “PERIOD, EXCLAMATION POINT!!”

take that Endeavor. you heard the man. it’s not destruction without conviction, as god as his witness he will have you know it is destruction WITH conviction. something something the great sage Shimura “I hurt my family for absolutely no reason at all, fuck this ‘helping others’ bullshit” Kotaro. I hope you packed your textbooks because you just got SCHOOLED. I hope the person who ordered you signed up for delivery notifications because you just got SENT. I HOPE YOU LIKE CAPITALISM BECAUSE YOU JUST GOT OWNED. I HOPE YOU CHOSE PAPER AND NOT SCISSORS BECAUSE YOU JUST GOT ROCKED

what an absolutely, unreservedly bizarre place to end the chapter lol. we’re really just done with this week, just like that. Majestic showed up and Gigantomachia opened his chin like a garage door and Tomura is all “you may have won the battle but you suck” while he buys time for Aizawa to suddenly sneeze or something so he can make his terrible comeback and continue Horikoshi’s Traumatize Every Kid in Class 1-A 2020 campaign. what an arc this is my friends. what an arc

#bnha 280 #ashido mina #kirishima eijirou #gigantomachia #shigaraki tomura #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #I didn't even notice the extra page on readheroaca until I was getting ready to click 'post' lol #something about ochako mistaking a real orca for their friendly teacher #resulting in a hilarious case of mistaken identity #I have no idea what this page is about or what it is doing there #but at this point 'because 2020' seems like a reasonable explanation for just about anything tbh

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iwakurodai · 5 years

Text

Angel || Richie Tozier

hello! if this one isn’t good then you can leave me. I haven’t had a good streak with writing in so long. The ending is probably really bad but be gentle, I didn’t know how to continue this let alone end it so the ending seems a bit rushed/way too short! Anyways! I hope you enjoy this imagine to kick off my return to eggytozier

soulmate au where you feel the pain of your destined lover but dont get the wounds/bruises.

requested? nah, just had an idea

warnings? suicide, car wrecks, knives, cursing, death, dead parents, pain, blood, soulmates, bad endings, homophobic slur, and missing children

pairing? Richie Tozier x reader, and a bit of platonic!bill x reader

You met your soulmate when you were only five.

Walking into preschool--hand gripped so very tightly onto your parent’s finger--you stopped at the door way as they spoke to your new teacher. Looking around, your eyes watch the kids chasing each other and knocking stuff over. Your eyes met a small boy that was playing alone, pretending to make food at the play kitchen way across the room. You were about to leave your parents when the teacher kneeled in front of you, distracting you and you forgot about the boy as she introduced herself to you.

Farther along in the day, at recess, you were about to join the boy from before on the swing set until he jumped off and landed wrong. You felt nothing but searing pain in your ankle and you fell to the ground, sobbing, unaware of the boy screeching just a couple yards from you. You found out who he was when you both were carried to the nurses office by the teachers monitoring you.

His name was Taylor James. He was a little blonde boy who spoke a little too quiet and laughed a little too loud. He had a strong interest in cooking after growing up with a chef as a father. He had a stutter and a lisp but you didn’t see the problem.

You two were only five, but since that point of meeting, you two were inseparable.

As years went by, your parents and his became best friends. Taking mementos of you two to look back on when you got married. You two grew up together, not hiding a single thing. Well, it was hard to hide something when you both could feel something was wrong.

Taylor was as quiet as he was in preschool and he was just as sensitive. Which caused him to become an easy target for bullying. You despised the bullies. Every time you saw them you couldn’t help but shout insults and jokes, hoping that they would feel what they did to Taylor. You knew that it wasn’t right but you didn’t care. All that mattered was Taylor being happy.

But, you would never have been prepared for when the accident happened.

You were 10, only five years were spent with Taylor. He was on his way to your house for Easter. You were helping your mother color some eggs when you suddenly dropped to the floor, screaming as if you were being murdered. Tears came out of your eyes like a river, you were barely breathing. A screech coming out of your mouth whenever you could get it out until nothing would come out.

You felt as if your soul had been ripped in two, holding onto each other with thin strings. Your body was cold, freezing to the touch. Your nails digging into your arms but you didn’t feel a single thing. Your whole mind and body were numb, other than the feeling of your whole being, being put through a paper shredder.

It wasn’t until you were sitting against your mother chest, still sobbing, that your dad came home. He had tears in his eyes, his hands were shaking.

Your dad was coming home from buying some candy for you and Taylor when he saw a familiar car fly, headfirst, into a semi truck. He pulled over and ran to the scene, pulling out a phone and calling 911. He was telling the operator where he was when he was stopped cold at the sight of Mr. and Mrs. James, barely even recognizable. Your dad checked the back and was horrified to see little Taylor with a piece of shrapnel lodged into his chest.

Your dad fled, rushing to you as he realized what would happen. He had only read about soulmates dying, but never did he think he--or anyone he knew--would witness it himself. You didn’t feel a thing of the crash. Taylor died on impact. But the feeling of your other half being ripped from life had scarred you to the core.

You went silent, your mouth never opened other than to eat and drink. The trauma of losing someone so close to you had scraped your ability to find the use in talking. Your parents became scared, signing you up for a therapist.

You were only with that therapist for barely half a year before they decided that a change of scenery was better for your health. With that suggestion, you and your family packed up and left your hometown. Driving as far as the family’s minivan could take you.

Which was the small, secluded town of Derry, Maine.

You didn’t go to school until the next year, your parents making sure that all the teachers knew of your problem and wouldn’t force you to do anything.

You weren’t mad or sad or even happy that you had moved. You were just... surviving. You didn’t feel like you needed to feel anything, so you didn’t. In the short year of learning at Derry Middle School, you didn’t make any friends and only gained the attention of Greta Bowie. She took advantage of every time you were alone to bully you. She wanted to tip you over the edge and cause a breakdown. She had found out about your soulmate dying and was making up different scenarios of what could have happened.

“Your little soulmate killed himself because you’re such a fucking disgrace of a human he didn’t want to be with you, didn’t he?”

You pretended to not hear it.

You also gained the attention of a kid named Bill Denbrough. He had a stutter and it reminded you, almost too much, of Taylor. He tried his best to make you comfortable: helping you with work when you seemed to not understand, giving you tips about avoiding Greta and Henry Bowers (who you hadn’t met but made a note of staying away from), and even inviting you to hang out with his friends. You always denied, you didn’t wanna damper their fun.

Bill always shrugged, though, promising to make plans to hang out alone. You always gave him a small smile in response and a pat on the shoulder. You were scared of getting close to him.

It was only a month after meeting Bill that you felt something strange.

You were walking down the hallway, being called to the counselor’s office for your daily meeting, when you felt a strong sense of pain in your stomach. As if you’d been punched. You froze in the middle of the hallway, your mind racing with possibilities.

Taylor? No, you thought, he’s definitely dead. You saw his body in the morgue, in the open casket with his family. He was gone.

Was there a chance that you had gotten a new one? You hadn’t seen anything about gaining a new soulmate after the death of another, but it also wasn’t common to find yours at such a young age, like you.

You got knocked out of your thoughts--literally--when you felt a punch to your face. You dipped your head down, covering your left eye as you head starts to pound fiercely against your eye. Your vision started to blur with tears, a ringing in your ears. You clench your eyes shut, forcing yourself to take a breath and get to the counselor’s office before you started to investigate more.

You asked the counselor about having a new soulmate when you met with her again, of course by writing it down. She pulled out a dirty notebook and flipped a couple pages before reaching her desired spot.

She read to you that soulmates who lose their other half so suddenly and unexpectedly have a chance to gain a new one. It happens so rarely that there had been only two ever cases about it. The universe had a plan, they always planned ahead of time. The universe had a backup when they knew a soulmate was going to die unexpectedly. Meaning that in rare cases, people would be born without a soulmate until they were needed.

When she asked about the sudden curiosity, the bell rang. You ran out of the office and into the crowded halls, to the cafeteria--which you commonly avoided. But, today, you wanted to see Bill. You could see how much mysteries sparked the kid’s interest and you needed help.

You found him pretty easily, he was with his friends. You knew them from Bill pointing them out in the yearbook when he was showing you Henry Bowers. You barely knew their names but that was the least of your concerns. You scrambled in your backpack, finding a piece of paper and a pen. You scrawled the words “I need your help” on it before throwing the pen in your bag and striding up to Bill, confidently.

Ignoring his friends that were silenced with confusion, you shoved the paper in Bill’s face. He grabbed it carefully, reading it slowly.

“Damn Bill, since when did you know the hot new girl?” A kid with glasses exclaimed, smiling at your determined face. “Hi, hotstuff, I’m Richie Tozier, but you can call me your boyfriend!” Richie shoves his hand in your direction. You glance at his hand and then at his face, scrunching your brows together and tilting your head.

“C-c’mon, (Y/N), we-we can go to th-the libr-library,” Bill says, cutting off your introduction to Richie. “I’ll see you-you guys af-after school!” He exclaims, grabbing your wrist and leading you away from his friends.

“What the fuck?”

“Why can’t we go?”

“What just happened?”

Bill ignores the three and you two make it out of the loud cafeteria and through the halls until you both finally get to the small school library.

“So, what di-did you need h-hel-help with?” Bill asks, sitting down on a chair. You sit next to him, opening your bag and scrambling for a random notebook. You find one and hurry, rushing out an explanation. When you finish, Bill slides towards him and scans it quickly, mouthing the words as he reads. He looks back to you once he finishes, he was shocked.

He’s never heard of the whole gaining new soulmates thing and he didn’t know what to do. But he wanted to help his friend. “Wh-What do you wa-want me to do? How can I-how c-can I help?” You smile in relief, reaching over and hugging him tightly.

Bill grins widely, hugging you back. It was only the start to a whole new adventure and he was excited to help you figure it out.

You back up from him, blushing in embarrassment before turning back to your notebook and writing something more.

‘Do you have any ideas? All I’ve got is asking around if there’s been a fight.’

Bill hums, racking his brain for ideas. Biting his lip, he looks over at you to see you tapping your pencil on the notebook. “M-Maybe we can my friends i-if they’ve heard of-of any fights re-recently? R-Richie surely knows, i-i-if not then we can ask the r-r-redhead, Beverly, from History c-class.” You nod, accepting the idea.

“Okay, I-I have to go. I’ll meet-meet up with you by the b-bike rack and w-we-we can b-brainst-storm more on the w-way home. Y-You live near the sy-synag-synagogue, right?” After seeing you nod, he smiles. “O-Okay, I’ll w-wa-walk you home. R-R-Remember, by the b-bike rack!” Bill says, leaving you to think to yourself.

I’m scared that if we don’t find my soulmate, I’ll lose them before I could get to know them. You thought to yourself, playing with your pencil. I don’t wanna know that they’re going through pain and I’m not doing anything to help.

But, you didn’t know you were going to have to halt the investigation because less than a month later, Bill’s little brother ended up missing.

You became close to Bill throughout his grieving. You related to him in a way. You both lost someone close to you, for you it might’ve been more painful in the sense of your soul ripping in two, but he lost his little brother. And he thought it was his own fault.

Bill came to you to vent about Georgie. He went through all the stages of grief in front of you. And you were there to help him through it all.

Being close to Bill also meant you became good friends with his. Stan Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak, and Richie Tozier became a constant in your routine. They didn’t pressure you to speak but they made light hearted jokes about it. You weren’t ever offended, you laughed with them. Richie made the most jokes though. He couldn’t go an hour without shooting a flirty comment at you with a wink. You found it adorably annoying.

Eddie and you became close too. After a freakout with Eddie not trusting any other boys with his extra inhaler, you stepped up and held it for him. You keep it in your bag at all times and when you didn't have your bag, you had it tucked in your pocket. He had a respect for you for putting up with Richie and not managing to smack him. You always shook your head and chuckled at his disbelief.

Stan and you only became close after you found him crying with bruises up and down his arms. You helped him up and led him into your home, holding an ice pack to the worst of them all. Stan had been beaten by Henry Bowers and you caught him after he had ran far enough away to lose them. He gained the smallest crush on you after that, but you didn’t have know that.

You didn’t ever bring up the possibility of having another soulmate to the boys. You didn’t want to stress Bill with his search for Georgie and you didn’t want the other three to ask questions about your first. Though, Richie loved to pester you.

Richie loved to make jokes about being your soulmate, about how you never bring up soulmates because he was already in front of you. You always brushed it off and rolled your eyes at him. But, one day, the jokes seemed to be a reality.

You were walking home from your therapist appointment when you felt something hit the back of your head. You reached up and rubbed at it, groaning about how your soulmate must be in wrestling club with how much fighting he did. As you came across Mr. Keene’s pharmacy to pick up your prescription, you glance down the alleyway.

You almost didn’t catch it but you did a double take and saw Richie struggling against the brick wall as a platinum blonde boy holds him there.

“Let go of me, bleach bottle! I got shit to do!” Richie exclaims, groaning as he tries to pull away from the kid holding him down. You step closer, hiding behind the wall as you watch. You knew you should help, but something was stopping you.

“No, you don’t, trashmouth, not anymore.” You watch as a kid with a blonde mullet stalks towards Richie with something in his hand. “I’m gonna teach you to keep your mouth shut, faggot,” He snarls, clicking a button and showing off the glint of the knife. You gasp quietly, slipping away from the wall to try and stop him. You recognized the mullet from Bill pointing it out in the yearbook. Henry Bowers.

Richie, for once, was shocked silent. His eyes watching as the knife practically glared at him. He swallows thickly as Henry brings the knife close to his face. “You better be happy to welcome a new stamp, Buck Teeth,” Henry mutters, poking the tip of the knife into Richie’s cheek and dragging it slowly across his skin. Richie’s eyes screw shut, gritting his teeth to stop himself from yelling.

You gasp loudly, eyes widening as you spin to press your back to the brick wall. Your hand reaching to press against your cheek, feeling the knife dig into you but not showing any wound. Heat seemed to lick at your cheek, stinging and causing your eyes to water. Taking a couple deep breaths, you press a hand to your chest to calm your heart beat.

“What the fuck was that?” Henry whispers to Victor who shrugs. “Well go fucking check, dipshit!” Victor jumps, letting go to Richie, who falls to the ground. He didn’t dare to get up, knowing that if he did Henry would just find a way to injure him more brutally.

You tense, glancing around before rushing into the store you were hiding in front of. You watched at the bleach blonde looked everywhere before freezing and rushing back to the alleyway. You waited a couple seconds before leaving the store and glancing back where Richie was.

Richie was pushing himself up, holding his cheek with a frown on his face. Henry and the other one, nowhere to be seen. You deem it safe enough to bolt into the alleyway and to Richie who looked up with fright in his eyes before relaxing at the sight of you.

“Hey, dollface! What’s up?” He exclaims, smiling at you while still holding his cheek. He acted like nothing had happened. You stop in front of him and look at him incredulously. Blood was starting to drip from his fingers. “What? Oh, you mean this?” Richie asks, noting your shock. “It’s just a scratch, my dear, no need to worry!” You shake your head, grabbing Richie’s wrist and taking it from his face.

He sucks in a breath, not liking how the cold air felt in his new wound. He didn’t notice how you winced as well. “Yea, okay. Might need a band aid, maybe? Say, where you headed?” Richie asks, suddenly losing interest in the still burning wound. You roll your eyes, pulling him along with you to Keene’s to pick up some supplies.

“Do you think Mama (L/N) will freak about me bleeding out on your kitchen table?” You scoff at Richie’s words, dabbing a wet washcloth on his cheek to clean the blood from around the fresh band aid. “What? You don’t think so? You know your mom loves me, angel!” You freeze at the nickname.

It was new—different from the other pet names he’s given you. You roll your eyes, brushing it off as him just finding a magazine that mentioned it.

“You like that one? I made it up on my own!” Richie exclaims, smiling brightly at your reddening face. “Yea, cause you are like an angel. Maybe that’s why you don’t talk, cause if you do then none of us will be able to handle your beautiful voice and we’d all die because our heart burst from it!” Richie over exaggerates, springing up from the kitchen chair and laughing at your little jump. You chuckle a bit before turning around and cleaning up the mess you made.

“Hey, (y/n)?” Richie asks, suddenly quiet and serious. You raise an eyebrow, turning on your heel and tilting your head at him in question. “Have you found your soulmate yet?” He mumbles, shocking you.

You didn’t know if you should tell him. Yea, you were very happy you found your second soulmate but you didn’t know if you should tell him or let him figure it out himself.

“You don’t have to answer, I was just wondering. Because, I’m scared I don’t have one,” Richie confesses. You sit down next to him, slowly, growing confused. “That or my soulmate is extremely careful because the last time I felt pain from them was…” Richie stops to think. “Have I ever felt pain from them before?” You sigh, looking down and grinding your teeth.

You’ve been overly cautious about hurting yourself over things. You didn’t want to put your soulmate through something painful, it hurt you to see that you were the cause. But you needed to do something. You knew Richie was your soulmate, you just had to find the courage to show him.

“It’s whatever. I can deal with not having one! It’s not like I need one or something!” Richie laughs, pushing away his true feelings. He stands up, rubbing his hands over pants before starting towards the door. You start to panic, not wanting him to leave on a sad note. You rack your brain, filing through the things you could do to make him stay. But there was really only one choice as there was nothing around you to help you.. “I should probably go, I was supposed to meet Eddie at the park—“

“W-Wait.”

Richie freezes, a hand reaching towards the door. He spins on his heel slowly, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped. “Did you just—“ He cuts himself off as you start to walk closer to him. You nod. Your voice was hoarse, as it hadn't been used in more than a year. And you stuttered, you weren’t exactly used to talking anymore.

“I—“

“Y-Your soulmate,” You confess, biting the inside of your cheek and watching him carefully. Richie’s face drops. He chuckles lowly, sounding betrayed.

“Don’t try, angel. I don’t want you to fake being my soulmate just to make me happy,” You roll your eyes as Richie looks up at you with sad eyes. “You deserve to be with your actual soul—“ As Richie talks, you lift your arm and grab a lump of your skin in between two fingers, and squeeze.

“Oh, fuc—“ Richie exclaims, jerking his arm to his chest quickly. He looks at you with confusion, his face screwed with disbelief.

“You’re—“ He didn’t have to finish his words as you nod in confirmation. Richie laughs, relief seeping through. “Shit,” He breathes, bringing you in for a tight hug. “You’re actually my soulmate. Holy fuck!” Richie rambles, a grin gracing his features.

You giggle, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. You got a second chance, you didn’t wanna screw it up. You decided to put off telling him about Taylor. Richie’s smiling face was way too precious to be put down by your past.

“Wait! I gotta tell Stan! He’s gonna shit himself!”

310 notes · View notes

evalinkatrineberg · 4 years

Text

~Wine Night~

A/N: This is the product of a fun RP done with @clemencewestley

The letters that I had found waiting for me on my desk when I returned to my room that evening had remained in the same spot, untouched, even as I stared them down, as if I could delete them from existence with my sheer willpower. Four letters - three in the same style of envelope, and one in another, still familiar, kind of envelope. That was the one I was most apprehensive towards - I knew that envelope came from Proctor’s lab, I could tell just from the pure white color of the envelope, so bright it was almost blinding. I’d received more papercuts the past year when trying to retrieve one of those enveloped than I cared to admit. Would she really be hitting me up for information so soon? I snorted and rolled my eyes at the thought. She was out of her mind if she thought I could get the prince to spill national secrets to me - I had barely been able to get him to tell me what activities he liked to do outside of work!

With a sigh, I swiped the stack of letters off of my desk, and made my way to the bed, flopping down onto my back, my toes barely brushing the floor as I began to open the first envelope. I was met immediately with my mother’s elegant and arching letters. Just seeing her handwriting sent a pang of longing through my heart. I hadn’t realized how much I’d taken seeing my family every day for granted. I missed them - I even missed my sibling’s antics, and pranks - there was no denying it. There was nothing I could do about that, though. I had to get over it. I was going to have to move on at some point, Selection or no. With a deep breath, I began to read.

Dear Evalin,

We are so glad to hear that you are okay, and that you’re enjoying yourself at the palace! It sounds like you’ve found some good friends in some of the other girls there - that’s important. You should all have each other’s backs.

We all miss you. The boys aren’t as vocal about it as Lydia is, but it’s pretty clear that they wish you were here nonetheless. Seeing you on the Report isn’t the same as saying you in person, but it will have to do for now! Is the prince living up to your expectations? He’d better be treating you right!

I’d apologize for the brevity of this letter, but the truth of the matter is that there’s just not much going on here. It’s summer as usual. Your life sounds far more interesting right now!

Write soon - and with more detail, if you can!

Love,

Your Mother

I smiled as I set the letter down on my pillow. Short and to the point, the letter was quite on brand for my mother. I had asked her for more specifics when I had written her - if they were going to the coast again for the summer, if they had gone canoeing again, and if Randall had convinced her to buy a dog for the family by now - but for whatever reason, she seemed to have ignored those. I shrugged it off, figuring that she probably just didn’t want to make me homesick, and moved on to the next letter. I could see Lydia’s cursive handwriting through the paper before I even unfolded the letter.

Evalin -

Okay, first of all, I am so happy to hear that you’ve befriended some of the other Selected. I hope you remember all of the information I found about them, before you left! It sounds like you’ve chosen your friends well so far - Indiana and Idalia both seem like very nice girls - but don’t forget that this is a competition, in the end! You’re all there with the same goal, and we’re all rooting for you back here!

I swear, we can’t watch the Report anymore with hosting a watch party! It feels like half the neighbourhood comes over to our house whenever it’s on! Don’t even get me started on the debates we all have after the fact. Some quick questions we’re all dying to know, though - Do you think the prince is over Felicity? What is he like? What are his sisters like? We found the story of your interaction with Princess Ayesha hilarious, by the way! It’s a shame she had to leave for her internship. She seems like the kind of person you’d get along with. Did you get to meet the queen before she left? Either of the queens? I feel like you would’ve mentioned it, if you had, but I have to ask anyway!

Have you had your first date with the prince yet? You have to tell us when you do! We want details! What did you do? Where did you go? Is he a charmer? Gabriel thinks you should ask him to play basketball with you. I don’t know what prompted him to offer that suggestion, but he is insisting that I share the idea with you. You can’t see it, but I’m rolling my eyes at him. That does remind me - is the prince taller than you? I sure hope he is!

Things here are pretty much normal, besides people I haven’t seen asking all of us about you. It is kind of nice having my own room now, though. Maybe I’ll force you to sleep on the couch if you ever come home after this...do us a favor and win so I don’t have to figure out how to convince our parents to allow me to do that!

Write soon please! We eagerly await your updates!

Love,

Your Inarguably Superior Older Sister :)

I couldn’t help but laugh as I put her letter down. Even miles away, she still managed to better my mood. Smile still on my face, I made my way to the third letter, only to be greeted with my father’s small print. I squinted as I unfolded the letter, half tempted to ask after a microscope to read whatever it was that he had written.

Dear Evalin,

I hope this letter finds you well. I was pleased to hear from the head of my department that you’ve registered for online classes in the fall. I knew you’d figure out a way to pursue all of your dreams at once. You’re a very resourceful girl, and for that, I’m proud of you, and I give you a lot of credit.

Though, I must admit, I am a tad disappointed in how you handled your meeting with Princess Ayesha. You shouldn’t have bothered her, and I think you know that, too. Alas, we cannot change the past, and it sounds like it all worked out in the end. You would do well to be better prepared in the future, though, especially if you are to be the future queen of Illea.

Beyond that, I’m glad to hear that you are well, and even expanding your education while at the palace. I’m afraid I am of no use to you in the fields of history or political science, but I wholeheartedly support your pursuit of knowledge in those areas. I could also ask around and see if any of the professors here in those fields would be willing to answer any questions you might send them via email. Along the same line of thought, have you considered learning French? It might prove useful.

On the subject of your friends, I am glad you have become close with Idalia Moretti. Her father is a very accomplished academic as well.

Lastly, in regards to your parting remarks to me, I want to assure you not to worry. The situation has been handled with the utmost care. You should have no trouble returning to your life here in the future, should you ever choose to do so.

With Love,

Your Father

I placed the letter on top of the others, unsure of how to feel about his last paragraph. What had happened since I’d left? There must be something my family wasn’t telling me. Unless my father was the only one who knew? Had he somehow managed to fix the issue without ever telling my mother or siblings? I frowned. It wasn’t like him to keep secrets, and yet, he had whatever had been in our attic. Maybe I didn’t know as much about him as I thought I did.

The last letter seemed to look back at me as I stared it down. Was this Proctor offering me my old job back? Was it an apology?

There’s only one way to find out, I decided as I picked up the enveloped, carefulling opening the seal. I was surprised to see Lukas’s handwriting, and not Proctor’s, once I unfolded the letter.

Hey,

Listen, I know you left on a bad note. I’m sorry about that. I didn’t realize you’d react like you did.

So, how are you? How’s palace life treating you? It sounds like you’re having a good time, from what June’s been telling me. I haven’t told her about our fight. I figured it was better that way. She assumes that you’re still writing me, just not giving me the same juicy gossip you’re apparently giving her, because why would I be interested in that? Have you been telling her anything big? She won’t tell me.

I heard you’re taking online classes this fall. That’s great! Proctor mentioned some of the classes, and it sounds like we’re in some of the same ones. We should exchange notes. You’ve got to make sure you’re on top of your game for when you get back.

Speaking of Proctor, she seems to have cooled down. She told me that she’d offer you your old job back. That was after she called me incompetent, though. Either way, I don’t know what you did, but you’ve weaseled your way back into her good graces for now. Did you change your mind? I hope so.

Hope to see you soon!

Lukas

P.S. Included a picture, so you don’t forget about us little people back home.

I was half tempted to run his letter through a shredder, if given the chance. Another part of me was tempted to write June and tell her about the argument he and I had had the night before I left, but something in me told me that that was a conversation best had in person. Yet, staring at the picture that I now held in my hands, I was almost filled with a sense of longing, for the uncomplicated friendship the three of us used to have. Lukas and I may be at odds, but I couldn’t bear to make things tense for June. She didn’t deserve that.

I let out a heavy sigh, and then scooped up all four letters, folding each one and then shoving them behind the cover of one of the books I had brought from home. I couldn’t even think about replying to my mother or Lydia without my thoughts wandering back to Lukas and my father’s letters. What had my father done? How had he really been involved in the first place? Did Proctor know he and Lukas were writing me these letters.

I shook my head, placing the book in one of the drawers of my desk, before picking up some other books that had been laying on top of the desk. It was a good thing I had remembered to pack so many in my bag when I left home. Yes, the palace had a library, but sometimes it was just nice to read in the solace of my own room. Tonight however, that didn’t seem to be happening. It was as if just being near the letters was pulling my focus back to them. Being in this room was counterproductive. I had to go somewhere else.

Scooping up my books, I made my way out of my bedroom, deciding that the change of scenery would be good for me. Maybe I could go to the women’s room. I quite liked that room - I had spent a good bit of time there the past few weeks, reading or playing solitaire, or trying to get to know the other girls more. Going there seemed like a good option.

When I finally made my way to the women’s room, I was a bit surprised to find that I was not alone. “Oh, hey,” I began, not sure of what else to say. The girl was cozied up on the couch, her legs tucked under her, knitting needles in her hands, with a half emptied glass of wine sitting alongside an open bottle on the coffee table in front of her. It took me a second, but I recognized her from our mealtime seating arrangements. “Clem, right? I think we sit next to each other at meals!”

The girl quickly looked up, her eyes wide as they focused on me. “Oh, hi,” she responded with a smile, “I prefer Clemence.” She tilted her head then, her eyes flickering to the books in my hands. “Seems a little late to study, don’t you think?”

I felt the blood rise to my cheeks as I set my books down on the table. She wasn’t wrong, but when thinking of something to distract myself with, reading had been the first activity to pop into my mind. Fidgeting with my sweater, I took a seat on the coach on the opposite side of the coffee table from her. “I suppose it is,” I admitted, “but I’m not tired enough to fall asleep yet, and it’s too dark out to run, so reading seemed like the best option, since I didn’t expect anyone else to be up right now.” I shrugged and offered her a small smile, my eyes flitting to her hands for a brief moment before I added, “Sorry if I interrupted your knitting, though.”

Clemence set her yarn and needles down on the couch beside her, picking up her glass. “I wasn’t very productive anyway. Don’t worry, you didn’t interrupt anything.” She paused to take a sip, keeping her gaze focused on me. I was half tempted to look down, and make sure I hadn’t spilled ink on my clothes. I was fairly certain my sweater was clean, but I hadn’t taken a long look at my pajama shorts. Instead, Clemence jerked her chin towards the books I had set down on the table. “Is it for your studies, or for leisure?”

“Leisure,” I answered with a smile. “I’m on a biology break of sorts for now, I think.” A small laugh escaped my lips before I could even think about it. Not studying was such a foreign concept to me, that it was strange to even consider it. I pushed that fact aside. I’d deal with that later. “What are you doing up this late?”

She shrugged in response. “I need a drink,” she decided as she finished the one in her hands. “Want one?”

Before I could even respond, she had stood up, making her way to a cabinet across the room. She grabbed another bottle of white wine and a second glass, before closing the cabinet and returning to the couches. It was too late for me to refuse now, I realized, as she set everything on the table and began pouring both of us glasses.

I wasn’t the biggest fan of wine, if I was being honest. Wine tended to make me sad, especially the morning after consuming it. Sure, we drank it on holidays in my house, but I tended to limit myself to one or two glasses of champagne in those scenarios. At the few college parties I had attended, I had opted for other drinks. An odd perk of taking so many chemistry classes was that I had a decent handle on how to mix drinks well. Vodka crans were my drink of choice most of the time, but if I really wanted to have a good time, I tended to opt for shots of tequila. Salt, tequila, lime - cut and dry, nice and simple. Tequila was an upper, whereas wine was a downer.

I said nothing as I took my glass. Clemence didn’t seem to notice any hesitation on my part, and forged ahead with the conversation. “So,” she began, pausing to put down the bottle of wine, “How long is that biology break supposed to last?” She gave me a pointed look, and I could tell that she meant long term, as in what might happen if I won the Selection.

I had hardly considered the possibility. The end of this seemed so far off, and yet, there had been some eliminations. I was a little amazed that I hadn’t been cut, given how uninterested the prince seemed in our conversation, up until the very end. Yet, here I was.

“Thank you,” I started, taking a sip of wine. “Hopefully, not too long. I’ve already emailed some professors about the possibility of completing their classes online, but only one or two have gotten back to me. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.” I shrugged, looking at the wine as I swirled the glass. “I would’ve thought you were a red wine kind of girl. What about you, do you plan on getting back into ice skating?”

Her laugh said everything I needed to know before she did. “I retired three years ago, the Selection doesn’t change any career plans.”

How had I forgotten that fact? Lydia was right, I did need to pay more attention to what she had told me.

Clemence continued, clearly unphased by any reaction I had had, waving her hand through the air. “But what will you do if it changes yours?” She raised an eyebrow, looking me square in the eye.

I frowned. “I don’t see why it should. Science teaches many skills that lend themselves fairly well to ruling, I think - like problem solving, teamwork, and critical thinking. I mean, sure, I’d have to manage my time well between all my responsibilities, but I think it’s possible. And that’s all dependent on whether or not I even make it that far in the Selection. I’m not counting on anything,” I finished, taking another sip of wine. Thank God Clemence had chosen to drink white wine, at least. I found the taste of red wine a bit too tart for my liking.

I looked at Clemence, who stared back at me. I could practically see the wheels turning in her brain as she thought up a response. After a moment, she sighed, looking down at her own glass. It was then I realized how genuinely exhausted she looked. The Selection appeared to be taking its toll on all of us, no matter how confident or upbeat we appeared to be during the day. I was half tempted to reach out towards her across the table, but something held me back. “If I were you,” she finally said, “I wouldn’t want to stay.”

“Why’s that?” I asked, frowning.

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t make certain sacrifices for someone who might not be willing to do the same thing, that’s all.” She poured herself more wine, despite the fact that her glass wasn’t yet empty.

“That’s fair,” I replied, attempting to collect my thoughts as I took another sip. “Have you spoken with the prince outside of the interview?”

“No, I haven’t.” Her answer was immediate, her words clipped and sharp. “I’m not looking forward to, to be honest.” Her eyes, now narrowed, darted towards her yarn as she took another sip of wine.

I raised an eyebrow at her as I reached for the wine bottle, pouring myself another glass. It appeared I’d better get settled in here for the night. “What’s your issue with him, then?” I offered her a small grin, adding, “It seems like we all have at least one.”

Clemence looked straight at me, but somehow, it didn’t feel like she was seeing me. Her focus was off in some far corner of her memory. “He’s not over her,” she began, setting her glass down and beginning to gesture as she spoke. So this was going to go back to Felicity, then. “She’ll be a ghost hanging over his Selection and later his marriage. And I’m mad that he’s dragging people into this who had nothing to do with his mess and are only asking for a normal relationship.” She shook her head and sighed, her gaze returning to the present. “What’s your issue with him?”

“He seems very distracted,” I admitted, realizing just how bothered I had been by the way he had acted during the interview. My mind was beginning to play connect the dots. “And probably because of her,” I added, taking another sip as I frowned. “I’m glad I’m not the only one that noticed that. I can’t help but wonder why they broke up, because they both seem quite interested in each other’s lives, still.”

Clemence’s brows furrowed as she tapped her index finger against her wine glass. The sound of her nail against the glass was kind of comforting, if I was being honest. I couldn’t place what it reminded me of, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. “You can break up with someone even if you still love them,” Clemence said finally. “And you can be aware that they’re bad for you, and that you’re bad for them, and still want them.” She shrugged. “We’ll never know anyway. I don’t think he’ll ever talk about it.

I’d hope he’d at least talk about it with whoever he ends up marrying, I thought with a sigh. “Good point. Have you ever spoken to her? I was kind of surprised to see her at our etiquette lesson. I thought it might be another one of Princess Ayesha’s pranks.”

She pursed her lips, frowning. “I don’t know,” she admitted, “I feel like it could have been Felicity’s own idea to show up unexpected. She’s looking for trouble, much more than Princess Ayesha. Just the feeling that I have,” Clemence finished with a shrug.

I hummed thoughtfully for a moment, feeling a warmth spread through my body. That was definitely a side effect of the wine, I was sure. “That very well could be.” I sighed. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come down to this, you know? Us fighting her for his attention? I thought when he declared a Selection, that that meant they were over - for good.” I sighed again, placing my glass on the table. It was bad enough we already had to compete with each other for his attention, but I truly had hoped that we wouldn’t have to compete with Felicity Graham as well. She definitely had a leg up on all of us, that was undeniable. What had I gotten myself into? I braced my elbows on my knees, putting my head in my hands and looking at the ground. I had to get myself together. I was better than this. I looked back up at Clemence, running my fingers through my hair a few times and offering her a rueful smile. “I guess I really am just that naive.”

Before I knew it, Clemence had moved to my side, placing her hand on my shoulder. I met her eyes, only to find her smiling at me with a sense of sadness. I hated those smiles - the ones filled with pity, but I wasn’t about to tell her that, not when she was being so kind. “There’s nothing wrong in wanting your own prince charming. Besides, it’s better to be aware of the risks now than to realize he still loves her when it’s too late.”

I wanted her to be wrong so badly. I wanted to yell, I wanted to find the prince and ask him myself, I wanted him to tell us that we were wrong. No, that was stupid, that would never happen. God, I didn’t even know what I wanted! I couldn’t find it in myself to argue with Clemence, though. I might not like what she was saying, but she was looking out for me, and was genuinely kind, it seemed. “Thank you,” I responded. “I think it’s important that we look out for each other, you know?”

She smiled in reply. “I agree,” she stated, picking up her glass and leaning against the back of the couch, squirming for a few moments until settling into a comfortable position. “How old are you, by the way?”

“Twenty,” I answered. “You?” I leaned back, pulling my right leg under me so I could angle myself to face Clemence.

Her eyes were closed as she took another sip. “You baby,” she replied with a laugh. “I’m turning twenty-three - in several months, but still. I’m a sixty-seven kid, through and through,” she finished with an affirming nod.

I couldn’t help but laugh at her answer. “Listen, I had no control over my birthday! But it’s probably for the better that I’m not older. I literally cannot imagine applying for jobs while being here. Even when - or if - I return home, I have a feeling job interviews are going to be mortifying. I mean, imagine telling your potential boss, ‘Oh, yeah, I took some time off because I thought I might be the next queen of Illea, but that didn’t work out, so I’m here now, and very interested in your job offer.’” I laughed a little harder, covering my mouth with my free hand as I did.

Clemence offered me a small smile in return. “Oh, don’t worry, the PR training will be so good, job interviews won’t look frightening at all. You survive the Report every week, right? Job interviews will mean nothing in comparison.” She shook her head, and I realized I had forgotten about that. “But honestly, I don’t know that much about job interviews. I’ve never had to go through one.” She inclined her head slightly as she considered that fact for a moment. “Oh, well, maybe that meeting I had when I applied to be an emergency foster care parent can be considered a job interview? And all the times I applied for volunteering? But it’s not as big as a job,” she finished with a shrug and a small laugh. “Sorry, I wish I could give advice for that, but I can’t. Two privileges.”

“Wait, you’re a foster care parent? That’s awesome!” I couldn’t stop the smile growing on my face. It was like I was looking at Clemence in a new light. “Being a good parent is one of the most important jobs in the world!”

She simply shook her head, laughing. “Emergency foster care,” she corrected. “That’s kind of different. I have the kids in my care for a few days, a month maximum, until they can go back to their families, or are sent to someone for something more long-term.”

“That’s still super cool,” I insisted. “The world needs more people that are willing to do that.” I shook my head, feeling a blush begin to creep across my face again. Hopefully I could get away with blaming being flushed on the wine. “You mentioned you do other volunteer work - what do you do? I think the most I’ve ever done were service projects my high school ran.”

“Don’t blush, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Damn, she caught me. “I didn’t do it when I was still in school either. I just didn’t have the time, so I can’t imagine what it’s like in university.” She averted her gaze to the ceiling for a moment before continuing. “Well, childcare and education are kind of my thing, so I volunteer a lot in that. Ecology too, sometimes. Oh, and animals, too, but that’s mostly because my sister begged me to. She thinks I’ll say yes to a dog if I keep being around one.” She laughed and shook her head, taking a few more sips of wine.

I laughed along. “My sister and I tried to do something similar with my father, when we were kids. We tried to convince him to do a study on dog behavior, so we could have dogs in our house. That’s when we learned that his studies were more in neurobio than ecology.”

“Honestly, for me, that’s pretty much the same thing,” Clemence replied, raising her eyebrows and laughing. “So you’re all scientists in your family?”

“Not all. My mother teaches music theory at a local high school, and my sister wants to follow in her footsteps. I think my younger brother might, too, but he won’t tell any of us what he’s into, besides pulling pranks.” The memories of his antics ran through my head, like a strip from a photo booth with no end in sight. I couldn’t help but laugh as I recalled them one by one, rolling my eyes at the hilarity of all of them. “Teenage boys, you know? But my dad and I are both into bio, and my other brothers are into chem and engineering. What about you?”

“My sister’s only nine, so it changes every day. Inventor, soldier, hockey player, baseball player -” she laughed “-rinse and repeat. She would do it all if she could! My stepfather is a Marine, my mother is in diplomacy, and my other stepfather is an ambassador. I think you can find pretty much every job Twos can do in my family,” she concluded, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, I think it’s good to have role models with diverse interests - it shows children they don’t have to be locked into just one path, you know? And it’s awesome that your sister has so many interests.” I sighed. “Remember being kids, and feeling like we could do anything we wanted to?” I shook my head as I took another sip of wine. What a time that was!

Clemence giggled, the sound softly floating through the room before she spoke. “No, I didn’t. I was thrown into figure skating too young for that. It was my only interest for a good decade, until I discovered boys.” She took another sip of wine and laughed some more.

Boys, but not the prince, then. Interesting. I giggled along regardless, enjoying her company. “Thank God my parents didn’t do that for me. I wanted to be a prima ballerina when I was younger, and now look at me - I fell flat on my face walking across my room this morning.” It was true. I had the bruise on my right shoulder to prove it, I realized, laughing some more. “But now studying biology is like, three quarters of my personality.” I could feel my smile shrinking as I shook my head, and averted my gaze to the floor.

“I’m sure biology isn’t that much of your personality,” Clemence insisted, inclining her head. “You just need to be away from it for a while, and you’ll see everything else that you are beyond that.”

I laughed, though it came out more wryly than I had intended. “That’s what the biology break is for, I guess!”

She nodded along. “I prefer you see it that way.”

“Okay.” I bit my lip. What did she mean by that? Why should her preference hold any weight in my life decisions? “How long did it take you to find other interests, after you quit ice skating?”

“Depression included, or nah?” Her eyes met mine as she took another sip.

I blinked at her casual manner, frowning. “Oh.” I needed more wine for this conversation than I had thought I would, apparently. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Clemence waived her hands through the air dismissively. “It’s fine. It was a few years ago.” She nudged me gentry, smile still in place on her face. “Don’t worry, depression isn’t a mandatory phase.”

I put my wine glass down on the coffee table, knowing full well that I was unable to stop the flow of the words about to exit my mouth. Why was I like this? “While I’m glad to hear that, I’m still sorry to hear you had to go through it.” I exhaled heavily before continuing, this time with a softer voice. “I don’t talk about it often, but I suffered from really bad anxiety for most of my teenage years and like,” I paused, trying to find the right words. Should I reassure her that I was in a much better place now - because I was - or tell her I understood how she felt, even if past was past? “Mental illness sucks, is all.”

Very eloquent, Evalin, I thought to myself.

I shook my head. “Anyways, I’m here if you ever need to talk. Or if you need a spontaneous dance break, or a wine night, or whatever. I’m down for anything.” I pursed my lips for a moment before adding, “Except hard drugs. I think I draw the line there.”

“And I draw the line at just drugs, so you’re fine.” She poured more wine. “Tell me about the anxiety. How is it now?”

“A lot better now,” I answered honestly, waving my hand through the air. It had taken me a long time, and a fair bit of therapy, to identify the root of my anxiety, but identifying it and learning new coping mechanisms had helped a lot. For some reason, however, my mouth could not seem to put all that into a sentence spoken aloud. “Realizing I don’t have to be perfect helped, I think,” I finished, shrugging.

Clemence took a sip of her wine, and I could tell by her body language that she was not buying it. I just wished I could communicate with her telepathically somehow, to show her I truly was in a better place now. Why had I told her at all? It probably would’ve been easier to keep my mouth shut.

“Are you not worried that the Selection may change that?”

“I honestly hadn’t even thought about the possibility,” I answered with yet another shrug. “What about you? Are you worried about something similar, with your depression?”

“I was depressed because my body had failed me and I was forced to stop doing something I had spent my entire life dedicating myself to because of it.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “Oh, and I found out my ex was cheating like the week I publicly announced my retirement, which didn’t help either. I was feeling like I was losing everything that I thought made me me. I was in pieces honestly, and it kept accumulating.” She shrugged again, adding, “But it’s different from a Selection. The crazy expectations to be a perfect princess don’t have much in common with what I lived, so I don’t really worry about it. The worst that man can do is break my heart, which he won’t.”

What if he does, I wanted to ask, What then? I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the prince than he was letting us see. He was definitely a guarded person, likely for the same reason Clemence was, if I was being honest. She might be open at this point in time, but I was fairly certain her refusal to let the prince in was the product of the same set of emotions that led the prince to seem so disinterested in all of us. I’d never say as much to her, though. Not yet, at least.

I found Clemence looking at me, her eyes softer than before. “However,” she began again, “if you have struggled with perfectionism and anxiety in the past, you should be careful. Not everyone can resist that pressure, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

I haven’t given into that pressure since high school, I wanted to scream.

“Wow, that’s a lot. I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I said instead, my voice soft. I looked down quickly before bringing my gaze back up to meet Clemence’s, offering her a small smile. “I think I’ll be okay. Thank you, though.” I stretched, the clock on the wall catching my attention. Was it that late already? Dang. “I think I should probably head off to bed now, and try to get some sleep tonight. Thank you for this, though,” I continued as I stood up. “It was very much needed.”

Clemence simply stared at me, her eyes narrowed and following my every move, until her gaze eventually drifted to the books I had placed on the coffee table. “Sorry if I ruined your leisure time.”

“You absolutely did not ruin it, at all,” I insisted, picking up my books and offering her a smile. “In fact, this was much more fun than anything I had planned.” I laughed a little at that before adding, “Anyways, good night. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow.”

With a nod, she moved back to the couch she had originally been sitting on, picking up the yarn that had sat abandoned while we had chatted. I turned to leave, stopping only when she said, “Oh, and Evalin?”

“Yeah?” I asked, looking at her over my shoulder.

“Be careful with Arin. I think there’s a side of him you don’t want to see.”

I frowned, but nodded nonetheless. “I’ll keep an eye out. Thank you.”

“I’m always here, whenever you need,” she added with a smile, though there was a tension in her face that had not been there before. “Good night.”

“Likewise. Good night,” I finished with one last nod, exiting the women’s room.

Clemence was kind, and her intentions were good, I was sure of that, but just like everyone else here, there was definitely more to her than she was letting on. I pondered that as I made my way back towards my room, the wine in my system making me drowsy. At least I’d be able to sleep now. Lost in thought, I almost didn’t notice the letter on the floor of my room as I walked in, as if it had been slipped under the door.

With a sigh, I picked it up. The envelope definitely belonged to someone in the palace, that much was evident from the ornate design on the front of it. I carefully broke the seal, almost laughing as I read the words the note contained.

It was an instruction to meet Prince Arin at the front of the palace the following day. For our first date.

I placed the letter on top of my desk, along with my books, before shutting off the lights and climbing into my bed. I stared at the ceiling, mulling over the nights events in my mind for a few minutes before sleep took me. Good. I’d definitely need a lot of it tonight.

#selectionoc

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