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allthewriteplaces · 9 months

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Magnolia in May ~ Chapter Seven

Chapter Summary: After returning home from the picnic, Thomas invites Jessie to dinner while the children are spending time with some friends.

Chapter Warning(s): Mentions of the war, nightmares, PTSD

Word Count: 3227

Chapter Seven

As soon as we got home, and while the children were with Miss Milligan, I retired to my room, and sat down on the mattress with my pad and pen. I’d written a letter to my family back home, telling them everything that had happened. Long paragraphs about the kids, the things we did, the games we played and the picnic; I told them about the house, how it looked like a fairytale mansion, and about Thomas — I didn’t write much about him, because for some reason I thought they would start teasing me about him like they did whenever I talked about Django.

I saved those thoughts for my diary, where I kept all of my most private and special thoughts. I flipped through it, reading the last few entries I wrote. This one in particular was quite colourful. I was surprised how harsh and scribbly my handwriting was and how hard the pen pressed into the paper.

Friday, May 16th 1930

Miss Carleton came to visit today to check up on the horses. I was looking forward to meeting her because I’d heard things about her. Good things.. But when I introduced myself to her, I got the sense that she didn’t like me very much, even though she never said so. And for some reason, when I heard she was staying the night, my throat tightened and my cheeks burned, almost like I was angry. Great, now I know what they’re up to in there.! It shouldn’t be a surprise to me, and I don’t mind Miss Carleton, maybe I’ll go to sleep and maybe I’ll tear out this entry in the morning.

I wasn’t sure what had gotten into me that day, but I was completely over it now. I thought about tearing the page from the journal, then decided against it, because it would be a challenge since all of the pages were hand-sewn into the leather. I didn’t want to ruin the other pages. This next one, I noted, was more light-hearted.

Saturday May 17th 1930

Mrs. Shelby (Lizzie) dropped by for a few minutes and announced that she was taking Ruby and Charlie to the pictures.. I was surprised when she invited me, too and she explained that because I was the governess, I was now a part of this family. We all loaded into the car and headed to the theatre. Tonight, they were showing a Chaplin film that was made ten years ago, The Kid. I think I cried a few times. Because when it was over, Ruby told me my eyes looked puffy. It was a nice experience and I want to do it again sometime.

Sunday, May 18th 1930

It doesn’t feel real yet. I keep thinking I will wake up back in my bedroom at the cottage. Ruby and Charlie Shelby are perhaps some of the sweetest children I’ve ever met, they even took my coat the day I arrived. I am thinking about taking them on a picnic tomorrow. I don’t think they’ll say no to skipping school for one day. I haven’t told them yet, though. I need to check with their father first. I am sure he won’t mind, but still, I don’t want to sneak them out and cause him to worry.

Then, opening to the next empty page, I wrote:

Monday, May 19th 1930

The picnic was a success, just like I thought it would be. Earlier, Mister Shelby invited me to have dinner with him tonight. I don’t know how I should do my hair, what I should wear — why am I so nervous? My stomach hurts, like I am about to expel all of my lunch. It’s not as if we’re going to be doing anything other than eating, or so he says. I will probably let you know how it goes later.

As I wrote, I could sense something blooming between Thomas and I. A friendship, maybe more, and tension building between Miss Carleton and I, because she didn’t like me. Was there a good reason? Had I said something or done something to offend her? Or had she gotten it in her mind that I was one of Mister Shelby’s mistresses and was jealous? When I thought about those subtle glances he threw at me during mealtimes, or when he stood in the doorway and watched me play with the kids, I wondered if there was something else there, or just my imagination running wild again like it always did.

Capping my pen, and after putting my diary away, I heard a soft knock at the door. Thomas looked over at me with a smile, leaning against the doorframe of my room. The sight of him standing there with such a warm, gentle expression on his face once again made my heart flutter softly. “Will you still be joining me?”

“Give me an hour,” I said. “I need to find something nice to wear.”

“Everything looks nice on you, love,” he replied, his tone playful and fun as he flashed me a cheeky grin. I could tell he was already beginning his flirting, his playfulness and charm on full display, and I couldn’t help but find myself swept up in it all. His sense of humour and cheeky nature were incredibly lovely, and I felt so happy to be around him. Without another word, he shut the door tightly and I was once again left alone with my thoughts.

I had done a pretty darn good job convincing myself that it was nothing more than friendship because that was all we really could be. The selfish part of me wanted to tell her not to get her hopes up too high because I had an inkling that he and Lizzie could get back together — and I was hoping they would because I liked Lizzie — I don’t think Miss Carleton was in love with him anyhow, so I don’t think it would have affected her anyway.

At last I was ready; the two of us made our way down the hall feeling the anticipation building up inside me, and some worry, too. My throat tightened a bit and my stomach felt tingly and nauseated as it did my first day of school, or my first day sitting in the Church with Albert and Eliza. I had spent time with a boy before, but for some reason, this was different. My heart pounded against my ribcage. I was nervous, excited, and a little bit scared.

We reached the downstairs hallway as the sun was going down, a violently red and purple sky behind the hills and treetops, and then stopped when we made it into the dining room. It was dark, save for a few candles that had been lit on the table. I found it beautiful and incredibly romantic. I wondered if he’d done the same for every girl who stayed over at his place, but immediately shoved it away while we sat together, and ate the meal the cooks had prepared. I didn’t want anything to ruin this night.

“That was nice,” I said and his soft blue eyes met mine as he smiled. It was now nine o’clock. The time seemed to fly by; the hours felt like minutes and the minutes felt like seconds. The sun had completely set now, and darkness had begun to cover the inky black sky, and I could almost see the stars in the distance. Looking downwards, I tried my best to stifle a yawn.

“All the fresh air must have tired you out. Fair warning, if you ever head into the city, just know that the air is always polluted with chimney and cigarette smoke and smells like rot and alcohol more than eighty percent of the time. A lot of unsavoury things happen there.” He laughed softly, and changed the subject slightly, “I wish we could do this more often.”

“Have dinner together? All you have to do is say the word, Mister Shelby.”

“I wish I could, and I wish I could spend more time with my children.”

“You’re doing your best,” I said, trying to provide some comfort.

“Lizzie was a good woman, didn’t deserve —” His voice caught. He cleared his throat and ran a hand across his face. I saw that same, deep sadness that I saw when he talked about being in France, but this was a little bit different. “She didn’t deserve what I put her through. The lies, the secrets. I tried to keep them safe, to ensure that they would have everything they needed if something were to happen to me, but it turns out it was me they needed, not the money, not the house. And I failed them.”

There were tears in his eyes now, real tears. Thomas Shelby wasn’t a man who showed his real emotions in front of anyone and for as long as I’d known him, he always seemed to have everything under control. He was the one person that everyone else in the family looked up to for answers — besides his aunt, Polly — all of the solutions to the problems and strategies on how to win at each game their enemies threw at them. He’d always planned everything in advance, and if one plan failed, he always had a backup. Emotions were to be set aside and logic was supposed to guide him in every decision he made, but sometimes, no matter how deep below those emotions were, they always broke through the surface, gasping for air.

Just as he was. He was a fish trapped on land, trying to breathe.

“John, Grace, Danny, Freddy, Ben, Bonnie, even the horses. Everyone I touch either ends up dead or hurt.” Thomas shook his head, trying to stay composed. Then he stood up from the table, the legs of the chair grading harshly against the wooden floors. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pinned this all on you.”

“It’s alright. I’m always here to listen if you need someone to talk to.” I wanted to tell him that everything was going to be okay and that maybe Lizzie would come around once the dust settled and she was given time to sort through her own feelings, but at the same time, I knew those words wouldn’t ease the tremendous amount of guilt he carried with him wherever he went.

“Run,” he muttered, so softly I barely heard the words he was saying, “while there’s still time, before you end up getting hurt, too.”

I walked over to him, tentative, yet determined. I stood in front of him, seeing the stains on his cheeks and his puffy eyes. “Listen to me. If I wanted to run, believe me, I would go right up those stairs, hair flying, heart pounding and I would be out the door before you could even utter my name. But whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me, come hell or high water.”

A sad smile came onto his face. His hand reached up to brush against my cheek, his thumb wiping away my own tears. I’d started to cry, too, but I didn’t know it. He pressed his forehead against mine. “Thank you. For today, and for helping me forget.”

I nodded. His breath fanned against my lips. I knew he was going to kiss me, but suddenly, he stepped back, reached a hand into his pocket and then he seemed to cheer up a little bit. “What is it?” I asked.

“The kids are back.” He excused himself from the room. When I followed him down the hall towards the front entrance of the house, out the window, I saw Johnny’s vardo and Thomas carrying a sleeping Ruby in his arms as he came back in with Charlie, who looked just as worn out from their day of fun.

“Jessie, guess what?” he asked, his eyes were bright and his cheeks were flushed. “We had a big campfire! And we raced sticks in the river. Except for Ruby, she didn’t race sticks with us, but she sat and played with dolls with the other girls.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but she almost fell in,” he said, “I told her not to play too close, but she didn’t listen. Luckily it wasn’t too deep, so she didn’t drown, and me and the other boys managed to help her out.”

“Goodness!” I exclaimed, still keeping my voice down so I wouldn’t wake her up. Thomas was worried for a moment, too, and looked over at his daughter. Her pretty black dress was a bit wet, he noted, and so was her hair, but all of that worry faded away when he saw that she was safe and sound.

“Well, you’re a good big brother, looking after your little sister,” he whispered, rubbing her back. Groggy, she opened her eyes and looked around, but he quickly stroked her hair, easing her head back down on his shoulder. “Shh, you’re home sweetheart, Daddy’s got you. Charles, you go with Jessie, get ready for bed, yeah?”

Charlie nodded and reached for my hand. I took it and he eagerly followed me up the stairs into his room to get ready for bed. He fell asleep by the time his head hit the pillows, and when I softly closed the door behind me, and made it down the hall, even though it was only half-past nine, I was getting tired, too. I made it to my room and wrote a short update in my diary before I crawled into bed and buried my head into my pillow, and descended into the realm of dreams.

I was woken up by shouting coming from out in the hallway. I wanted to convince myself that it was nothing I needed to worry about, but my curiosity and my natural instincts to protect people kicked in. Without hesitating, I stood up and raced down the hallway until I found the door to the primary bedroom. It was wide open, perhaps in case Ruby or Charlie needed Thomas in the night. When I peeked inside, I saw him thrashing around and kicking at the bedsheets. He let out a series of frantic and fearful cries, a pained look on his face as his eyes remained shut and he continued to breathe very heavily until they snapped open and he sat upright. His breathing was erratic and he was shaking.

This wasn’t a nightmare, this was more like a night terror. My uncle used to have them when he came back from the war. Being on the frontlines or deep in the trenches changed a man and he was almost never the same when he came home. He looked around the room and his eyes landed on me, on the candle in my hands. His own hands gripped the mattress until his knuckles turned white and panic swirled in his eyes. I set the candle on the bedside table and sat on the edge, close to his head. I placed a hand on his brow and felt a cold sweat.

“Where am I?” he asked, gasping for breath.

“It’s alright, Thomas,” said and placed one of my hands on his chest, feeling his heart pounding underneath my palm. I realised I had just addressed him by his first name, but either he was in too much of a state to notice my slip up, or he genuinely didn’t care. His chest heaved up and down and the more panicked he looked, the more worried I became. I brought him into my arms, rubbing his back as he continued to shake. “Shh, it’s alright.”

I tried to remember the things Eliza would say to calm Albert down, but my mind was scrambled, so for a moment, I just sat on the end of his bed, gently rocking my body left and right, rubbing his back and running my fingers softly though his hair, anything I knew would help. He held onto me for dear life, his tears and sweat soaking through my chemise and his hair tickling my exposed skin.

“You’re home now, Mister Shelby. You’re home. You’re in England.”

“Home,” he echoed, still struggling to catch his breath. “Home?”

“Yes, home. Remember we went on a picnic and saw the ducks? The kids were so excited to have their daddy come with them.”

“My children. Where are my children? Where are Ruby and Charlie?” The fearful look in his eyes was still there. A look of pure terror. I could only imagine how terrified he must have been, and what sort of twisted things his mind conjured up.

“Charlie’s asleep in his bed, and Ruby is asleep in hers,” I assured him. I knew there were no words that could ever erase the pain completely, but I continued to hold onto him, saying whatever random nonsense came to my head to try to bring his mind back home. Slowly, but surely, his breathing slowed down, as did his heart rate. His grip on me loosened and he lifted his eyes to look at me. He looked exhausted.

Walking across the floor, I went to the cupboard and opened it. On a high shelf were some various bottles of alcohol, small ones, and some glasses. Normally, I didn’t recommend drinking, smoking, opium, or what people were calling ‘snow’ as a remedy for any sort of illness, especially one that ailed the mind, but this was definitely one of those nights and he needed something to calm his nerves and ease his mind. I took one of the bottles, read the label and then poured a small amount into the glass.

“Here, take this. It will help you relax a bit.”

Wordlessly, he took the glass from me and in one breath, managed to drink the whole thing. Then I encouraged him to lay back down against the pillow as I dabbed a cold cloth against his forehead.

After a while, he was quiet again. He laid still, his chest rising and falling slowly and his eyes becoming heavy. He wasn’t sweating anymore, which was a good thing, and when I asked him if he felt dizzy or nauseous, he shook his head, meaning the storm was coming to an end. I started to stand and go out the door, but his hand reached for my wrist and clutched it gently. “Stay.”

I paused where I was and then looked at the bed. What would happen if the kids needed me? Would they know where I was? Surely Frances wouldn’t approve, even though she didn’t seem like the type of person who voiced her real opinions out loud, but then I remembered when she mentioned Miss Carleton and her obvious distaste for her. I didn’t want any sort of tension between us, so maybe I would just keep this between Thomas and I.

There was plenty of room for me on the other side to sleep. There was also a comfortable-looking chair near the window with a blanket on the back of it. In the end, I chose the bed. I slid into it. His eyelids drooped just a little bit as he looked at me. I laid down, feeling the soft satin material of the pillow beneath my cheek. I watched him for a moment until mine began to close and I fell asleep again.

TO BE CONTINUED

TAGLIST: @zablife @runnning-outof-time @izabesworld @sherbitdibdab (Comment if you wish to be added!)

#peaky blinders #thomas shelby #peaky blinders fanfic #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #tommy shelby x oc

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u5an5 · 2 months

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Jacobs' Journal: Tape #5 - First Moves

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[START LOG]

Jacobs: Entry Five. The first move has been played.

Jacobs: At first, I wasn't sure who I should approach first: tackle the hardest prey or rope in an easy ally. With the security beefed up I worried I'd not get any chance at all... but like fate descending from the heavens, there came a demon.

Jacobs: I'd only heard of 682 in snippets and stories. What I'd gleaned from his profile, I wasn't too interested. Giant Earth-destroying crocodile monster sounded more like something out of a post World War two Japanese flick than the stuff of nightmares. I became invested the moment I heard he was coming here.

[Rest bellow the cut]

Jacobs: The O-5 Council were briefing Site Directors on the current month's schedule, including new SCP possibilities, recruitment and training programs, and... subject transfers. 682 was one of those mentioned, and he just so happened to be coming to Site 19 for a visit.

Jacobs: Exposure to another SCP had resulted in the monster breaking out of its cell, and its original Site was now ill-equipped to both hold 682 and repair the original chamber. Lambert wasn't too pleased as it would mean more resources spent, which meant less money he could pocket.

Jacobs: He raised the issue surreptitiously, suggesting we make a separate lay-by Site for just this sort of issue. The Council took it under advisement, which in my books, is code for: "We'll get to it in a couple years". In the meantime, preparations would have to get underway to welcome our infamous guest, and since this is the situation she was hired to tackle, Lambert assigned an engineer Rowe to make a Cell ready.

Jacobs: She jumped at the chance. You could see the ideas flashing in her head: what she wanted to do was make the chamber here a completely escape-proof for 682 by improvising an adaptable security system that would prevent him from being able to evolve new defences from our efforts to contain.

Jacobs: This meant lots of quick research and manpower to renovate the area. But, yet again Lambert limited her vision, ordering her to adapt the already existing plans for 682's last containment area to suit our facilities capacity. Rowe straight-up told Lambert to eat crap... but it's not like she had much of a choice.

Jacobs: He implied that if she didn't follow instructions, he'd use her as bait to lure 682 into his new chamber. A hollow threat now but you don't dare push a petulant man like Lambert. or his threats become promises. I knew Rowe understood 682's procedures like the back of her hand but she always focuses her efforts on the subjects prior to tackling them. She would be studying up in the SCP Records Room... so I figured I might help her.

Jacobs: I locked myself inside one of the Labs, making sure my 'private escort' saw me enter. Hillard really needs to teach her soldiers that hallways and corridors aren't the only ways to get around a facility. The electrical conduits were surprisingly roomy, and it wasn't long before I'd lost my tail.

Jacobs: She was uninterested in me after introducing myself, she really does only have her mind set on the job. I was told to say my piece and leave, so whatever I said, I had to make it count. I didn't mince words: I was upfront about how I felt about Lambert, stating that not only would I not urinate on the man to save his life, but that I'd probably be the one to set him on fire.

Jacobs: I talked about my intentions, what semblance of a plan I had in mind, how she fit into it, and rounded up with a short list of benefits won on her end, should she opt in. Rowe has an excellent poker face. For a moment, I thought she was considering calling security and repeat everything I've said. As it turns out, an absolutely straightforward honest approach was what she appreciated.

Jacobs: She hardly spent time considering. "He doesn't respect their power.", she told me. "He doesn't understand that they control us, no matter the thickness of their bars, the power of our weapons, or the belief that we are intellectually superior. Someone that blind deserves death."

Jacobs: <drawn out> I'm... pretty sure she's committed.

Jacobs: I left the room confident that, finally, I was not alone in this fight. But, as I turned the corner, I came face-to-face with my next hurdle. I hadn't expected to encounter Chen this early in the game, but he was the: the bootlicker, on patrol, alone. Probably so he could take all the credit for himself in case he captured me without an escort.

Jacobs: He wasted no time in cuffing me, and decided not to call in my escape to Hillard. He wanted to see the look on her face dragging me into her office as she realized her men had lost me. But before we got that far, I knew I wouldn't get a better chance to plead my case with Chen than now. I struck up the topic of promotions, whether he thought it likely my capture would warrant one.

Jacobs: Chen thought doubtful, but couldn't blame him for trying. I posed the hypothetical scenario of what he would do if it was ever discovered Lambert was involved in a major cover-up, and evidence of said cover-up were to potentially fall into the hands of the O-5 council. He responded that he would plug the leak. Score against me but I persisted. "What's to stop Hillard from taking all the credit?"

Jacobs: He didn't respond. "And, hypothetically of course, if the evidence did fall into the Council's hands, what would it mean to you if Hillard's numerous implicated in the crime?" He responded with "I'm not sure.", but slowed his walking pace. I had his ear. "Well, hypothetically,", I continued, "if she is part of this whole cover-up, she stands to take the same fall as Lambert. That would mean the Head of Security position here at Site 19 would be open to the next highest-ranking officer. Which would be you.".

Jacobs: We stopped. He faced me for the first time properly, regarding me as a person rather than a prisoner. "And what if the relieving officer was also involved in this... cover-up? Hypothetically." he said. "Records get lost all the time.", I responded. "Some people might slip through the nets.".

Jacobs: He and I kept our eyes fixed on each other, waiting to see who would break, but neither of us did. He took off my restraints, and walked away as though he had never seen me. I can't say for sure if this is a confirmation he's onboard, but he certainly is interested if nothing else.

Jacobs: I didn't bother asking, I had to get back to the conduits and crawled back to my locked laboratory to maintain my cover. None the wiser, my personal guard took me back to my office and... well, we'll see where we go from here. ...I think I'm starting to remember why I loved fieldwork.

Jacobs: (cough) Administrative Oversight Jacobs, signing off.

Jacobs: (quiet amused huff) Still got it.

[END LOG]

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#jacobs journal #pcrime posting #o5 jacobs #scp sedition #scp #engineer penjani #major chen

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jodilin65 · 3 months

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I've decided that from now on, if something is private, it doesn't go in online journals, even if the posts are set to private. I may or may not schedule future private content to post after I'm gone, but while I'm alive, I think that if it’s private, it should be kept offline. Even if the chances are slim, glitches and hackings do happen. I know there was a time when both Facebook and LiveJournal made every single post on some accounts public. Now, I'm never dumb enough to post sensitive info publicly or privately, but I'm still considerate enough not to want to hurt people's feelings with some of the things I may write about. I still write for me and care about me first and foremost, but a little bit of self-censorship can’t hurt.It looks like some of the glitches on PB have been resolved, but I know it’s only a matter of time before there are other glitches, if not repeats of old ones. So, I’m just backing stuff up there privately for now, but will eventually go public again. For now, I just need a break from that site.

Tom, who knows a lot more about coding than I ever will, is going to see if he can get Copilot to write a script that will allow me to automatically change background pictures on Blogger. It would be similar to a wallpaper or screen saver changer, only I might have to upload the pictures because then it won’t change when the computer is asleep. Then again, it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t change while I’m sleeping or not at my computer.

Little Miss Be Happy is having stuff done... as usual. Tom noticed she had something like 20 bags of mulch stacked up back there. Neither of us has a clue what it’s for. We saw a guy back there spraying the grass. At least she has the money to have all this stuff done since she is still working.

Tom is going to have to get a new dermatologist. He has a suspicious spot on the bridge of his nose. Having grown up in the desert, he may have to deal with these things popping up periodically for the rest of his life. This is probably why he may need cataract surgery while I may never live long enough to need it because he grew up in the desert rather than the Northeast as I did.

They gave him a cooling towel at the plasma place today. They were giving them to everyone. It’s this special material that you wet and put around your neck. I’ll have to remember it when I have a warm spell. Yesterday, I was comfortable, but I started to get cold for a while today, and again, my right hand seemed cold as well. I really wish I could test my TSH at home every day! Sometimes I think I’m still hypo and other times I don’t feel it. At under 160 pounds, I know I can’t be that hypo if I am.

We ordered the sound-blocking foam tile inserts for the bedroom windows. We’re hoping to set it up in a way that will allow us to pull the foam out of the top panes to either let in light or open the windows to air the place out when we want to. The foam is two inches thick and has grooves. They should help with blocking sound and definitely with light since I like the bedroom to be pitch black no matter when I’m sleeping. After I save a little more work money for a Temu order for a few different things, I will then save for the sticky foam tiles for the exterior bedroom wall. These will be thinner, covered in vinyl, and have some kind of decorative texture. The foam tiles going in the windows are black and ugly, but it doesn’t matter because the curtains are going to be covering them.

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wildflower-rain · 5 months

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long post with just my musings about nothing. more a journal entry than anything else. all lighthearted stuff.

dont know if im in a mood but im considering stepping away from this blog and the internet in general for a bit.

been on here to much lately or something plus some other stuff. idk i may disappear briefly.

hesitant to do so because i think my unintentional attempt to keep stuff in this blog's queue is why my brain hasn't just rejected it. like thats not a big consideration point but it is there.

tbf there aren't many points here at all. i just kind of started thinking about this like two hours ago so yk, i may wake up and forget i said anything.

been less engaged in some ways anyway. and more in others. been on here for long periods but i normally try add a bit of commentary in the tags if only for my own memory and amusement. but i haven't seen much that ive really wanted reblog to begin with and ive had nothing to say about anything. also as i think i said in the last two posts here now i just dont have anything to say at the moment. nothing understandable and shareable at least. got real life stuff happening too. had a lot of work to do. and a lot of stress. not actually that much stress probably , not compared to normal because like every situation is a high stress situation to me. just how i work. but i may well be forgetting how stressed i've been. i'm not sure.

idk. this blog does help me sort out my brain some. which is a point to the the other side. this post is basically a journal entry. and thats really how i use this blog most of the time. rambling about random stuff. its more consistent than any journal i've kept or have tried to keep. wondering if it would be unreasonable to make a private sideblog to actually just use as a journal because apparently tumblr gets the thoughts out of me.

i should make a journal tag. maybe. i don't know. for some reason i have more faith in tumblr not losing all my stuff than my other digital note taking and journal stuff. and generally i think better in typing. i do have a physical journal. i just don't think as freely in it, my hand gets cramped or i cant write fast enough for my thoughts. so i like digital stuff. and apparently my brain sees tumblr as more likely to not lose my stuff and die than anywhere else. at least out of places that i like the format of. don't like the idea of dumping this all in a word doc for some reason. it would make more sense. i could stick things on a usb but no, instead here i am with my billion word tumblr post that anyone can see. maybe ill start copying things into word docs after the fact idk.

i dont know why im so afraid that all my shit will be deleted. i really havent lost that much digital stuff over the years, nothing important to me i dont think. not accounts, not saved info, not my own pieces of stuff.. maybe one or two things i dont remember. i dont know why i just dont trust stuff to not get lost becuase of some screw up. idk. its 3:30am i'm going to sleep now. i had more work to do but im tired and i need to do more stuff tomorrow so i might as well get some sleep.

goodnight tumblr. or goodmorning or whatever time it is when this gets released, imma queue it.

#lol this does not need to be public #but it's here now so i guess it's staying here #they them #en end #or something idk

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thegirlwiththelantern · 2 years

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Hello, again! I write book release posts on my book blog, China Sorrows. But I like them to be specifically for books I'm personally excited about. In looking for 2023 releases I came across quite a few books I don't want to read but which would probably be really exciting to other people, so here some are.

Quick note- because I'm not covering them on my blog I didn't hunt through various sources and if the one I found doesn't list a synopsis, I won't. I also don't list synopsis for sequels in case of spoilers.

On A Wire: A Novel by Ryan Lill-Washington (queer)

Night of the Living Queers edited by Alex Brown (queer)

Authors including Shelly Page, Kalynn Bayron, Sara Farizan, Kosoko Jackson, Tara Sim, Rebecca Kim Wells, Trang Thanh Tran, Vanessa Montalban

Things I'll Never Say by Cassandra Newbould (queer)

Ten years ago, the Scar Squad promised each other nothing would tear them apart. They stuck together through thick and thin, late-night surf sessions and after school spodies. Even when Casey Jones Caruso lost her twin brother Sammy to an overdose, and their foursome became a threesome, the squad picked each other up. But when Casey’s feeling for the remaining members—Francesca and Benjamin—develop into romantic attraction, she worries the truth will dissolve them and vows to ignore her heart. Then Ben kisses Casey at a summer party, and Frankie kisses another girl. Now Casey must confront all the complicated feelings she’s buried—for her friends and for her brother who she’s totally pissed at for dying. Since Sammy’s death, Casey has spilled all the things she can no longer say to him in journals, and now more than ever, she wishes he were here to help her decide whether she should guard her heart or bet it on love, before someone else makes the decision for her.

Star Tent: A Triptych by Amie Whittemore (queer)

poetry collection featuring alien abductions, black holes, and weird-ass sestinas

The Wicked Bargain By Gabe Cole Novoa (nonbinary)

On Mar León de la Rosa’s sixteenth birthday, el Diablo comes calling. Mar is a transmasculine nonbinary teen pirate hiding a magical ability to manipulate fire and ice. But their magic isn’t enough to reverse a wicked bargain made by their father, and now el Diablo has come to collect his payment: the soul of Mar’s father and the entire crew of their ship. When Mar is miraculously rescued by the sole remaining pirate crew in the Caribbean, el Diablo returns to give them a choice: give up their soul to save their father by the harvest moon, or never see him again. The task is impossible–Mar refuses to make a bargain, and there’s no way their magic is a match for el Diablo. Then Mar finds the most unlikely allies: Bas, an infuriatingly arrogant and handsome pirate–and the captain’s son; and Dami, a gender-fluid demonio whose motives are never quite clear. For the first time in their life, Mar may have the courage to use their magic. It could be their only redemption–or it could mean certain death.

A Tale of Two Princes by Eric Geron (gay)

Edward Dinnissen leads a charmed life. He’s the Crown Prince of Canada, gets the royal treatment at his exclusive private school, and resides in a ritzy mansion. He thrives off being the perfect prince as he prepares for the Investiture Ceremony on his eighteenth birthday, the final step in his role as heir—and Canada’s future king. But this closeted Crown Prince has just one tiny problem: he’s unsure how to tell his parents, his beloved country, and his adoring fans that he’s gay. Billy Boone should be happy with the simple life. His family’s ranch is his favorite place in the world, he loves his small town, and his boyfriend is the cutest guy at Little Timber High. So why does it feel like something’s still missing? Maybe it has to do with the fact that this out-and-proud cowboy feels destined for more . . . When Edward and Billy meet by chance in New York City, they discover that they are long-lost twins, and their lives are forever changed. Together, will these twin princes—“twinces”—be able to take on high school, coming out, and coronations? Or will this royal reunion quickly become a royal wreck?

Last Chance Dance by Lakita Wilson (Black, bi)

Leila is crushed when Dev, her boyfriend of four years, breaks up with her right before graduation. Just when she’s thinking she wasted her entire high school experience on a dead-end relationship, her best friend Bree reminds her that Last Chance Dance is just around the corner. A high school tradition, the Last Chance Dance gives all the students one last opportunity to find love before they graduate. All Leila has to do is submit three unrequited crushes to the dance committee and if any of her crushes list her too, they’ll get matched. Presto: new relationship, just like that. To her utter amazement, Leila is matched with all three of her choices—and with someone she never expected, Tre Hillman, her chemistry partner and low-key nemesis. Though at times skeptical, Leila embarks on her Last Chance Dance mission—trying out her matches and going on dates. If Dev wasn’t her true love—then maybe someone else is. She knows it’s definitely not Tre, even though he seems more and more determined to convince her he’s right for her. But as graduation and the dance approaches, and each date seems to change her mind (and her heart)—Leila must figure out what—and who—she really wants. It’s her last chance, right?

The Last Catastrophe: Stories by Allegra Hyde

A vast caravan of RVs roam the United States. A girl grows a unicorn horn, complicating her small-town friendships and big city ambitions. A young lady on a spaceship bonds with her AI warden while trying to avoid an arranged marriage. In Allegra Hyde’s universe nothing is as it seems, yet the challenges her characters face mirror those of our modern age. Spanning the length of our very solar system, the fifteen stories in this collection explore a myriad of potential futures, all while reminding us that our world is precious, and that protecting it has the potential to bring us all together.

The Principle of Moments by Esmie Jikiemi-Pearson (queer)

In self-deified Emperor Thracin’s brave new galaxy, Humans are not citizens. Instead, they are laborers indentured to the empire, working to repay the billions in debt they unwittingly incurred when they settled on Gahraan—a planet already owned by someone else. Asha Akindele has lived her whole life on Gahraan, eking out an existence between factory assembly lines and constant terror—studying stolen aeronautics manuals in the dead of night and trying not to get herself killed for mouthing off to a guard. Then she discovers she has a sister imprisoned by the Emperor, and is forced to make a choice: stay enslaved, but relatively safe, or escape and risk everything in the name of family. Obi Amadi is a time-traveller, sick with a legendary disease. Armed only with his prosthetic arm, his ever-constant melancholy, and the humour he uses to mask it, he has spent years travelling through time and space in search of a cure for the sickness currently unmaking him limb by limb. His mandate: Find the cure, go home. And maybe figure out along the way if the prince he thinks sometimes he might love could be that home. When Obi saves Asha’s life, they make a pact: both will do all they can to get the other to the Emperor’s stronghold unscathed. With the reluctant aid of Xavior, a mouthy deckhand with a mysterious past, Asha and Obi attempt to navigate a galaxy that hates them to find the things they both believe will make them whole. But a prophecy has started that has other plans, and not only is Asha forced to make a terrible choice, she must soon reckon with the legacy of an ancient religion and its heroes, who may be awakening, reincarnated in ways beyond her comprehension.

The Memory Eater by Rebecca Mahoney (sapphic)

For generations, a monster called the Memory Eater has lived in the caves of Whistler Beach, Maine, surviving off the unhappy memories of those who want to forget. And for generations, the Harlows have been in charge of keeping her locked up—and keeping her fed. After her grandmother dies, seventeen-year-old Alana Harlow inherits the family business. But there’s something Alana doesn’t know: the strange gaps in her memory aren’t from an accident. Her memories have been taken—eaten. And with them, she’s lost the knowledge of how to keep the monster contained. Now the Memory Eater is loose. Alana’s mistake could cost Whistler Beach everything—unless she can figure out how to retrieve her memories and recapture the monster. But as Alana delves deeper into her family’s magic and the history of her town, she discovers a shocking secret at the center of the Harlow family business and learns that tampering with memories always comes at a price.

Running by Lindsey A. Freeman (queer)

In Running, former NCAA Division I track athlete Lindsey A. Freeman presents the feminist and queer handbook of running that she always wanted but could never find. For Freeman, running is full of joy, desire, and indulgence in the pleasure and weirdness of having a body. It allows for a space of freedom—to move and be moved. Through tender storytelling of a lifetime wearing running shoes, Freeman considers injury and recovery, what it means to run as a visibly queer person, and how the release found in running comes from a desire to touch something that cannot be accessed when still. Running invites us to run through life, legging it out the best we can with heart and style.

The Librarian of Burned Books by Brianna Labuskes (queer)

Berlin 1933. Following the success of her debut novel, American writer Althea James receives an invitation from Joseph Goebbels himself to participate in a culture exchange program in Germany. For a girl from a small town in Maine, 1933 Berlin seems to be sparklingly cosmopolitan, blossoming in the midst of a great change with the charismatic new chancellor at the helm. Then Althea meets a beautiful woman who promises to show her the real Berlin, and soon she’s drawn into a group of resisters who make her question everything she knows about her hosts—and herself. Paris 1936. She may have escaped Berlin for Paris, but Hannah Brecht discovers the City of Light is no refuge from the anti-Semitism and Nazi sympathizers she thought she left behind. Heartbroken and tormented by the role she played in the betrayal that destroyed her family, Hannah throws herself into her work at the German Library of Burned Books. Through the quiet power of books, she believes she can help counter the tide of fascism she sees rising across Europe and atone for her mistakes. But when a dear friend decides actions will speak louder than words, Hannah must decide what stories she is willing to live—or die—for. New York 1944. Since her husband Edward was killed fighting the Nazis, Vivian Childs has been waging her own war: preventing a powerful senator’s attempts to censor the Armed Service Editions, portable paperbacks that are shipped by the millions to soldiers overseas. Viv knows just how much they mean to the men through the letters she receives—including the last one she got from Edward. She also knows the only way to win this battle is to counter the senator’s propaganda with a story of her own—at the heart of which lies the reclusive and mysterious woman tending the American Library of Nazi-Banned Books in Brooklyn. As Viv unknowingly brings her censorship fight crashing into the secrets of the recent past, the fates of these three women will converge, changing all of them forever. Inspired by the true story of the Council of Books in Wartime—the WWII organization founded by booksellers, publishers, librarians, and authors to use books as “weapons in the war of ideas”—The Librarian of Burned Books is an unforgettable historical novel, a haunting love story, and a testament to the beauty, power, and goodness of the written word.

The Family Fortuna by Lindsay Eagar (queer)

Beaked. Feathered. Monstrous. Avita was born to be a star. Her tent sells out nightly, and every performance incites bloodcurdling screams. She’s the most lucrative circus act from Texas to Tacoma, the crown jewel of the Family Fortuna, and Avita feeds on the shrieks, the gasps, the fear. But when a handsome young artist arrives to create posters of the performers, she’s appalled by his rendering of Bird Girl. Is that all he sees? A hideous monster—all sharp beak and razor teeth, obsidian eyes and ruffled feathers? Determined to be more, Avita devises a plan to snatch freedom out from under the greased mustache of her charismatic father, the domineering proprietor and ringmaster. But will their fragile circus family survive the showdown she has in mind? By turns delightful and disturbing, bawdy and breathtaking, horrific and heartfelt, this electric and exquisitely crafted story about a family like no other challenges our every notion of what it means to be different—subject to an earful of screams—and to step out of the shadows and shine anyway.

Infamous by Lex Croucher (sapphic)

Twenty-two-year-old aspiring writer Edith (“Eddie”) Miller and her best friend Rose have always done everything together—from climbing trees and sneaking bottles of wine, to extensive kissing practice. But Rose has started talking about marriage, and Eddie is horrified. Why can’t they continue as they always have? Then Eddie meets charming, renowned poet Nash Nicholson––a rival of Lord Byron, if he does say so himself––and he welcomes her into his world of eccentric artists and boundary-breaking visionaries. When Eddie receives an invitation to Nash's crumbling Gothic estate in the countryside, promising inspiration (and time to finish her novel, a long-held dream), she eagerly agrees. But the pure hedonism and debauchery that ensues isn’t exactly what she had in mind, and Eddie soon finds herself torn between her complicated feelings for Rose and her equally complicated dynamic with Nash, whose increasingly bad behavior doesn’t match up to her vision for her literary hero. Will Eddie be forced to choose between her friendship with Rose and her literary dreams––or will she be able to write her own happily ever after?

The Third Daughter by Adrienne Tooley (sapphic)

THE THIRD DAUGHTER is a sapphic YA fantasy out next summer about emotional girls doing desperate things to save their families/country/souls from a corrupt church intent on seizing the throne.

Cleat Cute by Meryl Wilsner (sapphic)

CLEAT CUTE is about a rookie and a veteran battling for a spot on the World Cup roster who realize cooperation may be better than competition, both on and off the field

Cassidy is Queen by Cameron James (sapphic)

Endpapers by Jennifer Savran Kelly (queer)

It’s 2003, and artist Dawn Levit is stuck. A bookbinder who works in conservation at the Met, she spends her free time scouting the city’s street art, hoping something might spark inspiration. Instead, everything looks like a dead end. And art isn’t the only thing that feels wrong: wherever she turns, her gender identity clashes with the rest of her life. Her relationship, once anchored by shared queerness, is falling apart as her boyfriend Lukas increasingly seems to be attracted to Dawn only when she’s at her most masculine. Meanwhile at work, Dawn has to present as female, even on the days when that isn’t true. Either way, her difference feels like a liability. Then, one day at work, Dawn finds something hidden behind the endpaper of an old book: the torn-off cover of a ‘50s lesbian pulp novel, Turn Her About. On the front is a campy illustration of a woman looking into a handheld mirror and seeing a man’s face. And on the back is a love letter. Dawn latches onto the coincidence, becoming obsessed with tracking down the note’s author. Her fixation only increases when her best friend Jae is injured in a hate crime, for which Dawn feels responsible. As Dawn searches for the letter’s author, she is also looking for herself. She tries to understand how to live in a world that doesn’t see her as she truly is, how to get unstuck in her gender, and how to rediscover her art, and she can’t shake the feeling that the note’s author might be able to help guide her to the answers.

Sterling Karat Gold by Isabel Waidner (nonbinary)

Sterling Beckenbauer is plunged into a terrifying and nonsensical world one morning when they are attacked, then unfairly arrested, in their neighborhood in London. With the help of their friends, Sterling hosts a trial of their own in order to exonerate themselves and to hold the powers that be to account.

A Manual for How to Love Us by Erin Slaughter

Seamlessly shifting between the speculative and the blindingly real, balancing the bizarre with the subtle brutality of the mundane, A Manual for How to Love Us is a tender portrait of women trying their best to survive, love, and find genuine meaning in the aftermath of loss. In these unconventional and unpredictably connected stories, Erin Slaughter shatters the stereotype of the soft-spoken, sorrowful woman in distress, queering the domestic and honoring the feral in all of us. In each story, grieving women embrace their wildest impulses as they attempt to master their lives: one woman becomes a “gazer” at a fraternity house, another slowly moves into her otherworldly stained-glass art, a couple speaks only in their basement’s black box, and a thruple must decide what to do when one partner disappears. The women in Erin Slaughter’s stories suffer messy breaks, whisper secrets to the ghosts tangled in the knots of their hair, eat raw meat to commune with their inner wolves, and build deadly MLM schemes along the Gulf Coast.

#book #books #2023 #queer #booklr #my lists

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fuckyeahisawthat · 2 years

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Some OFMD episode 9 and 10 things that really hit but I’d kinda forgotten because they’re not the Big Ones:

- “I’m a strong reader/writer, so both, double threat.” I crack the fuck up every time. Lucius 18th century theater kid 4 lyfe

BUT ALSO

- Lucius reading so proudly and confidently and bravely from Stede’s journal...the journal that’s been a running joke this whole time...the journal they were trying so hard to throw overboard...the journal that damns Stede in one moment and saves him in another. Especially in relation to this post about the role of journals and diaries and personal correspondence in charting queer history...I will never not love that moment.

- Stede’s FACE when they’re all like “like a crew!”

- When they’re in line at the privateering academy and Stede says “so what’s the plan?” Oh my heart hurt. Because on some level Stede still expects The Legendary Blackbeard to be there with a plan for immediate escape. But Ed’s sick of making plans! (“So we make a plan and then we execute the plan and then we make another plan...”) He wants so desperately to stop!! (And yet he jumps right back into doing it again once it involves running away with Stede.)

- Stede reacting to Ed having shaved and folding socks. At this point we’re very used to seeing the narrative through Stede’s POV, but this really should have been a clue that something had gone seriously off the rails with the way Stede was thinking about this situation. Not only because Ed himself seems completely at peace with it, but because the narrative itself would never suggest that there’s something off or bad or wrong with a man presenting himself in a less traditionally masculine way and doing domestic, feminine tasks like folding clothes. Stede himself argues against that logic when they’re sewing the flags! It’s antithetical to everything the show is saying!

- All of this adding up to: Stede still doesn’t quite see how much being Blackbeard was weighing on Ed. We the audience are really the only ones who get the full picture. Would Ed ever have signed the Act of Grace if not for Stede? Probably not, because The Legendary Blackbeard doesn’t just surrender, and certainly not to the British of all people. But we see from the very beginning that Ed is desperately looking for a way to stop being Blackbeard, and the two options he’s come up with before now are (1) literal death and (2) stealing someone’s identity and living under a different mask for the rest of his life. Not bloody optimal! And...this is a way out. No, he probably would never have taken it on his own, but in doing it for Stede, he is able to do it for himself as well. (That’s the thing he likes about Stede, right? That Stede allows him to be a version of himself that he can’t be, that it’s not safe to be, around anyone else.) And when they’re at the privateering academy...he is so so fucking relieved. Not to have to maintain the persona, not to be in command, not to be responsible for a bunch of lives in constant high-stakes situations, to be able to think only about what makes Ed happy right now. He looks more relaxed and at peace and happy in episode 9 than at any other point in the show.

- When Stede arrives back at his house he’s not wearing shoes. Like yes I think he was having misgivings ever since they signed the Act of Grace and that’s why Chauncey’s speech was able to affect him the way it did, and I think he did make a choice not to go meet Ed at the dock...but also yeah he really did walk straight home overnight while in shock.

- How earnestly the talent show bit is played. Yes it looks ridiculous in contrast to how the episode ends but that whole scene is like...it would have been so easy to slide into a mockery or parody of the kind of atmosphere Stede cultivated on the ship but it’s played so sincerely and that’s very important.

- Izzy correcting the crew on Ed’s name and Ed saying “No, Izzy. Actually, I do want to be called Edward from now on.” (Also, asserting that when he’s in a supportive environment with the crew, then backpedaling to “Well, I am still Blackbeard” when he’s alone with Izzy.) I’d completely forgotten this line, but knowing how the episode ends, wow it made me flinch. We’ve talked about Ed putting the Blackbeard persona back on as a sort of symbolic forced detransition/going back in the closet, but what a way to put a fine point on it here. Also fUCK FUCK FUCK HE WAS SO FUCKING CLOSE HE ALMOST MADE IT OUT OKAY!!!!

- Stede’s big realization at the end: I still think he’s only got it figured out halfway. He’s figured out oh I’m in love with him. But I really think he still has no clue how much Ed loves him back, and thus how much he hurt him by leaving. He really thought he was leaving Ed for Ed’s own good, that he’d ruined him. And likewise I think he sees going to find Ed as something he’s doing for his own, Stede’s, happiness. Which it is! But he still has the self-worth of a wet paper towel. He doesn’t value himself at all, and so he can’t imagine being so important to another person that his absence would devastate them like that.

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #ed teach

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astrangergivingthestrangewelcome · 2 years

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Journaling vs. Podcasting in Dracula/Murrary Mysteries

No spoilers provided you are caught up to dracula daily

So I love Murray Mysteries, to date it's the best adaptation I've seen of Dracula and the only one that gets the found family down. But as I have occasionally said, my biggest criticism is the Podcast format does not work for me. A great example is all this with the Demeter. In the book Mina just pastes the newspaper in her journal, ok she's interested by this and is saving it for herself later. Totally works for me.

In Murray Mysteries Mina airs the frantic dying logs of a captain who we can audibly hear slowly losing her mind as the trip continues and then she ends her podcast segment like "cool mystery huh we'll give you updates as the story progresses" and I found that I just had to ignore it in order to still like Mina. Who just airs something like that, to get views on their podcast?? You do not have the right to do that to that poor woman and her loved ones, and is that even legal?? Girl literally just died. In general, the podcast's heavy emotional moments pretty much always hit for me, but I would have to forcibly over look that in no way would anyone actually experiencing these things be ok with putting them on the internet forever.

Then we got to the section in the book, and I realized that Murray Mysteries did face a difficult challenge in translating the epistolary style (which is a cool style I emulate it when I write fic for Dracula too) into the 21st century. Why doesn't the correspondent publishing the logs feel as icky to me? Well for one it is news, and he's publishing it, like, the captain went to an awful lot of work to make sure there was an account of the last days of the Demeter, seems that somebody should. Mina is not a news reporter, she's doing it for entertainment, and it just feels so wrong to me that her response to hearing this tragedy that Just Occurred is immediately "ooohh I can use this for profit." I don't want to get too hypocritical, we all love true crime stories and what not but her delivery just felt really insensitive to me. And there's something much more invasive about hearing the captain's despair rather than reading it that just made me go "wow this is not your place to share and the Mina Murray I know would think so too, she recorded this for the authorities not for people to oogle at her demise."

But then, what other possibility other than podcast was really open to these writers? The reason the framing device of Dracula works is journalling is naturally more private. You journal in order to put down your thoughts and experiences for posterity, and you probably are writing with the thought that someone will read them one day, but you can have control over that. You can be more intimate because you can decide which hands its going into. And you can always destroy the pages and the information is gone. Writing down all his horrors really is just Jonathan's way of processing what is going on in his life first, and is meant as a record for really really loved ones like Mina second. That makes all the sheer intensity of these entries and this novel possible in a believable way for me anyway.

That's just... not really done in the same way today. Who journals anymore? If you tried to tell the story of Dracula through a bunch of 21st century journalers I would be extremely skeptical. I'm sure some people still do, I know I was enamored with the thought of being a diary keeper when I was a kid (not that I had the perservance for it though many attempts were tried). It's all become blogs, vlogs and podcasts and although you can be an unreserved, open sort of person very authenticly on these sort of things if you have that personality, there's still a difference in how you present yourself when you're putting yourself out there to the whole internet. The manufactured authencity is so much more real- I mean you literally edit yourself before posting.

I don't really have a conclusion to make for this post, other than I never realized how much ye olde journalling has transforming into mediums that are by and large public with an audience the producer can only marginally control. This really makes it difficult for anyone wanting to adapt the framing device of an old epistolary novel into a modern setting with the same intimacy and sincerity. We're really not a private world anymore at all.

#murray mysteries #dracula daily

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featherlumina · 3 years

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Two Birds

Major Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Fix-It / 5.9k words / Viktor x Sky / SFW, Mild Blood, Allusions to Self-Harm

Sky, having faced rejection once, works up the courage to present her research project to Viktor again.

Viktor, having succeeded with the Hexcore once, decides to risk it all for a chance to live.

This time, Sky arrives a few seconds earlier.

And that makes all the difference.

Breathe in, breathe out.

It was now or never.

She had to do this.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Sky squeezed her notebook to her chest, feeling the leather's comforting familiarity beneath her fingers.

Time was against her, against him...

She had to be bold.

Bold enough to believe in her research, her ideas, and herself.

"Viktor," Sky found herself rehearsing as she walked, "I've been working on a...private project for a couple of weeks now."

She paused briefly, mulling over her choice of words.

"...no," the young scientist shook her head with a sigh. Why was she underselling herself? A couple of weeks? Really? This had been knocking about in her mind and spilling into her research journals for months.

Besides, she'd already missed an opportunity a few nights prior. She couldn't mess this up again.

Maybe she had to lead in from a different angle. 'Walking home together' might've given Viktor the wrong idea, after all. Well. Okay. Maybe not wrong...but perhaps it prioritised her romantic feelings over her desire to share her discoveries. It might have put him off, particularly after seeing how frustrated he was with the Hexcore.

Honestly though, it didn't matter if his initial rejection was indicative of a lack of interest or not; Sky loved him, and even if this was unreciprocated, she knew she had to share her research.

If it could help him—and by extension, the undercity—then that was enough.

As she approached the lab's outer security door, Sky experimented with different phrasing.

"Viktor, I've been working on this for a year now, and..."

A sigh escaped her lips as she turned the key in the lock.

Viktor was dying.

Why should she be dumping any of this on him?

He was probably feverishly working on the Hexcore right now, desperately trying to decipher the device's mysteries before his biological clock ran out.

Days ago, when she had first seen it, Sky couldn't believe her eyes. Before her was this beautiful, adaptive mechanism that could tessellate runes in countless combinations—the perfect complement to her research on the history of arcane symbols and their uses.

And the next day, she'd seen the remains of Viktor's experimentation with the Hexcore on plants! After the prior night's rejection, she knew she had to try presenting her research again.

See, Jayce and Viktor, with engineering backgrounds, had focused on Hextech as both a power source and for mechanical enhancements.

But Sky?

Her background was in biology.

She was right in the middle of theorising how magic could improve food production, for heaven's sake!

With her personal research and scientific knowledge, maybe she could help him crack the Hexcore's code.

And maybe she could...figure out how to...save him.

"Viktor..." Sky murmured as the door panels receded.

She had to get this right.

"I was hoping you might take a look at something I've been working on."

Ugh. No. Still too wishy-washy.

She had to get to the heart of it.

Yes, her feelings towards him mattered.

And so did her research project.

But if there was just one thing she could tell him, it had to be how incredible she thought he was.

'Viktor, I was...inspired by your..."

His compassion for people in need. His love for the undercity. His confidence. His kindness. His-

Sky sighed.

Trying to summarise the wealth of her feelings was useless.

"...everything you do inspires me."

Breathe in, breathe out.

Poised at the threshold of Jayce and Viktor's lab, Sky took a moment to steady herself.

You know he's in there.

She hesitantly slid her key into the door.

Now or never, Sky.

She twisted the lock.

You've got this.

The doors hissed open, and purple tendrils of magical energy nearly blinded her.

"Viktor-!?"

In seconds, pages from Sky's rapidly discarded notebook littered the floor as adrenaline claimed her.

She barely processed anything about the situation other than Viktor's terrified yet determined expression and his hand, dripping with blood, beginning to reach for the Hexcore.

In a panic, she leapt forward and desperately grasped Viktor's other hand to drag him away from whatever madness he was trapped in.

Viktor, lost in the moment of resigning himself to unpredictably dangerous augmentation, was caught completely off guard. He startled with shock, gasping, and completely lost his balance as Sky lurched him backwards towards the doorway.

"Oh, gods, Viktor-" Sky stammered, struggling to support his unbalanced weight. "What's- what were you-"

Finally, Viktor's senses rushed back to him. Using Sky's hand, he awkwardly righted himself before releasing her fingers in irritated surprise. "...-Sky!?"

"What- what are you doing?" She exclaimed, her voice wavering with distressed confusion. Having interrupted whatever the hell he was attempting, Sky was left with a confronting sight. Viktor, in nothing but underwear and an elaborate back brace, was now running bloodied hands through his hair in frustration, contorting the crude shapes of runes etched into his own flesh as his arms moved.

Also- wait.

Viktor's right leg.

It was metal.

And purple.

Glowing purple metal.

Purple metal.

That was glowing.

What in the…

By now, Sky's gaze was transfixed on Viktor's augmented flesh, her expression a conflicting mix of fear, horror and amazement.

"You- you shouldn't be here," Viktor gasped, a series of coughs rattling his lungs. He quickly turned his head away and wiped the back of his clean hand across his nose, leaving a streak of red on his fingers.

As soon as Viktor spoke, the Hexcore twisted and turned on its own accord, hissing and trilling aggressively with strange, alien sounds.

"I- I did some research- I wanted to-" Sky stammered, her wide eyes darting between Viktor and the Hexcore with panic. The Hextech device gurgled again.

This time, it almost sounded like a growl.

And it looked...

...wrong.

So, so wrong.

The last she'd seen of it, the Hexcore was a beautiful, iridescent blue, accented with gold and carefully carved arcane runes, pulsating gently with pure, magical energy.

Now? It was a cracked, broken mess, contorted and distorted, swirling around with what could only be described as malevolence. Brilliant blue was now twisted purple, and the runes were barely visible.

What the hell was going on here!?

As Sky's thoughts raced, Viktor released an exhausted sigh and sagged his weight against the edge of his workbench.

"Please, Sky. Go home. You don't want to see this."

Sky froze, her expression aghast. "What- what don't I...?"

A twisted tendril of electrified energy suddenly pulsated from the Hexcore, snaking towards Viktor with intent.

"Viktor- look out!"

Sky reached to pull him away once again, but Viktor carefully raised a hand to stop her whilst stepping away from the Hexcore's magical pull. He gently shook his head and looked deliberately away from Sky, his heavy-lidded eyes narrowing in fatigue.

"Trust me. It's better this way."

Sky drew her arms around herself as a shiver of fear rippled through her. "You- you want this?"

Viktor turned towards her again, gesturing wildly to his augmented leg and the bloody rune cuts on his upper torso. "What, you think these happened by accident?”

Sky took a step backwards in horror-struck realisation. Her hazel eyes, wide and rimmed with tears, stared at him in terror. "Why?"

"I'm dying," Viktor spat, clenching his fists. As he did so, blood dripped through the fingers on his right hand. "What have I to lose?"

Sky swallowed nervously, seeing the Hexcore pulse, twirl and contort with intensity as Viktor's blood dribbled onto the floor. It almost seemed...hungry.

And then, with an unnatural, metallic clang, Viktor stepped forward, his augmented leg taking his full weight without burden. "I- I need to live, Sky!" He insisted, voice laden with desperation. "I need to...I have to help the undercity, I..."

Sky gingerly reached forward, steadying his trembling hand with her own. Then, she took a long, slow breath to calm herself. She had to get him away from that damn Hexcore. It wanted Viktor, she could feel it...and that very fact was alarming enough.

"I know," she whispered, squeezing his palm. Her voice began to waver. "But, I...we can't lose you. Not like this."

"I die now, trying to live, or I die next week," Viktor mumbled, looking at her with defeat. "What difference does it make?"

"Just... look at the Hexcore, Viktor. Really, look."

Viktor's golden gaze turned to the Hextech device. "What?"

"It's messed up!" Sky insisted, gesturing with her free hand. "I don't know why—it was perfect days ago—but the runes aren't even legible anymore. How did you think it could still work?"

"And what makes you an expert?" Viktor mumbled defensively, pulling away slightly. He didn't drop his hand from her grip, however.

"What makes-?" Sky scoffed, glaring at him. She was so tired of being sidelined like this. She had ambition, a desire to change the world just like he did. "You think I came to the Academy just to be an assistant?"

Those words cut Viktor right in two.

In that moment, he saw himself reflected in Sky; a child of the fissures, fighting tooth and nail for recognition in a world that saw him as nothing.

"Sky- I'm sorry-"

"I've worked with you for years, Viktor. I've talked about my dreams, my ambitions. I've spent months on my own projects," Sky whispered harshly, her grip tightening. "I even came here tonight to share my work on arcane runes with you. So, please. Believe me about the Hexcore."

"...okay," Viktor breathed, nodding slowly. He weakly squeezed her hand to reinforce his trust. He really should've paid Sky more mind over the years. How many times had he brushed her off without realising it?

"Actually, Sky, about the other night-"

"No, it's okay," she breathed, reaching to grab the nearby stool. "I know you were frustrated. It was bad timing."

Sky deliberately positioned the stool further away from the workbench and motioned for him to sit down.

"Besides," she continued, kneeling on the floor beside him. "I didn't articulate myself properly. I wanted to share my work with you then, on the walk. Thought it might help, you know?"

Viktor shot her a quizzical look as he finally began applying pressure to his hand wound with a cloth. "Oh. You...erm, it sounded romantic, to be honest."

Sky laughed at herself. "Oh. It was. But that doesn't matter. Whether it's mutual or not, I don't care. I just want to help you solve this."

Viktor cleared his throat as he processed this information. He had his suspicions, he supposed.

He looked at her with regret. "It's not that I-"

"Don't," Sky dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "I know it's the last thing on your mind right now."

Promptly silenced, Viktor returned his focus to his hand, now having the clarity to not continue recklessly spilling his own blood for unpredictable magic endeavours.

For now.

"So," Sky murmured, rocking herself slightly as Viktor tended to his self-inflicted wounds. "What happened to the Hexcore?"

"My blood..." Viktor grit his teeth and sighed as he lowered his head,"...and shimmer."

Sky shot him an incredulous look, her eyebrows nearly reaching her hairline.

"I was desperate. Nothing else was working, and... I wanted to see if augmentation was even possible," Viktor said, his voice flat. "The Hexcore accelerated growth in plants, yes, but they died seconds later...so imagine what might happen to a person."

"I know, but...shimmer, in your body?" Sky winced, her concern evident.

"In my defence, it worked," Viktor grumbled, tapping his metallic foot with irritation.

"Also, wait-" Sky paused, raising a finger. "Okay. Shimmer. Sure. But blood? As in...blood magic? Haven't you read the terrible legends?"

Viktor shot her a dark look. "My lungs were bleeding. I didn't cough blood onto the desk by choice."

"...oh," Sky whispered. She stared at the floor with guilt. "I'm sorry. That's the night you went to hospital."

"The Hexcore...responded after that, and in my desperation, I saw it as a non-issue," Viktor continued. "If it meant not dying..."

Sky nodded slowly, her hand tracing rune shapes on the floor to calm herself.

"First, I tried my leg," Viktor whispered, flexing his purple, glowing toes. "Earlier tonight, I...ran for the first time."

"Oh, my god-" Sky whispered. She felt her heart squeeze with emotion. "That's..."

"It was indescribable," he breathed, "so... figured I'd try my chest, but I ran out of shimmer, and..."

"You were going to try it anyway," Sky mumbled. She gazed at him with fear in her eyes. "It probably would have killed you."

"Probably," Viktor replied, barely audible. He awkwardly shifted on the stool as he stifled another cough. "But I had to try."

"Gods, I'm so glad I reached you in time," Sky gently shook her head in disbelief, trying to accept Viktor's rash behaviour. "What if I hadn't?"

Viktor looked at her, his expression shifting from determined to one of disbelief.

Sky gulped in a breath as it dawned on her. "What if...what if it killed you in front of me?"

"I- I didn't-" Viktor faltered.

"Or what if it killed me? Or both of us?"

By now, horror had overtaken Viktor, his entire posture reeling backwards from Sky's words.

He'd only ever wanted to risk himself.

Never for a second did he consider his recklessness would hurt someone else.

He could have killed someone.

Sky. Jayce. Heimerdinger.

Any one of them could have walked in to check on him tonight.

"I- I...no..."

Viktor's golden eyes brimmed with tears as these bitter truths stabbed through his heart.

"We agreed Hextech was to improve lives...not- not to take them!"

"We may not have a choice!"

"There is always a choice."

Oh gods. What had he chosen?

What made his life any more important than the next person's!?

"Viktor, look at me."

He felt a cloth being pushed against his right palm again.

Oh.

He'd forgotten about that.

Sky carefully cupped his palm and used her other hand to re-apply pressure.

"I'm sorry," he wept, "I'm sorry...I didn't mean...I..."

"It's okay," Sky whispered, trying to reassure him. "Let it out."

As sobs wracked Viktor's exhausted body, Sky gently manoeuvred his left hand to hold the cloth again. "Give me a second; I'll bind it with something."

Moments later, Sky returned with an unused cleaning rag and firmly bound his palm, securing the fabric with one of the many pins from her hair.

"Thank you," he whispered, fruitlessly trying to wipe the tear stains from his cheeks.

Sky offered a sad smile in return. Then, she stood back slightly and opened her arms in a hug gesture. Viktor, from his position on the stool, looked up at her in tearful confusion.

"You look like you need one," she whispered, her voice wavering.

For a moment, amber eyes met hazel, and then Sky found herself squished against his chest. With the hug clearly accepted, she held him tightly, tracing gentle circles around his shoulder blades to soothe him as the tears fell.

A minute or so passed, with only Viktor's laboured breathing and the Hexcore's rippling trills breaking the silence.

"Now," Sky murmured, "did you use a clean knife for those cuts?"

Viktor nodded into her shoulder. "Sterile."

"Good. How's your hand?"

"Still bleeding a little."

"Well..." Sky trailed off, slowly pulling back, "while we wait a bit, would you like to review my research? It might help with a future Hexcore build."

"...yes, of course," Viktor said, his voice softening slightly. He gingerly sat back down, applied some extra pressure to his palm, and nodded at her.

"Thank you," she breathed, unable to stop a giddy smile from flashing across her features. "After that, we should clean those wounds. Just in case. Your immune system is probably...not great."

Viktor released a sad chuckle in response. He watched as Sky recovered her notes from the floor, wincing as he noticed her crisp, clean jacket was now smudged with red in several places. Meanwhile, Sky grabbed an extra chair and positioned herself next to Viktor, her faithful journal open on her lap.

"I'm sorry about your clothes," he mumbled sheepishly, shifting in place.

"Don't worry," Sky chastised, touching his arm gently. "You are way more important than some Piltovan uniform."

Viktor made a small noise of agreement. "Okay. Impress me, Sky. What have you got?"

Nervousness rippled throughout Sky's chest at this statement.

Okay. It was finally happening. Under very strange circumstances, but still.

"Alright. I've been researching and compiling every arcane rune mentioned in as many sources as possible, including some very dusty tomes in the Academy's restricted archives, and cataloguing how they were used."

Sky carefully leafed through a few pages before pausing at the beginning of a very, very long hand-drawn table of symbols.

"Now, you've got four of the main 'parent' runes on the Hexcore you designed," she continued, pulling out a copy of the Hexcore's initial blueprints. "But there's actually a fifth 'parent' rune - and the sources say it represents and channels inspiration."

"Oh?" Viktor raised an eyebrow at this. The only runes and their derivatives he'd seen came from four distinct categories—not five. "How did you discover this?"

"I only found papers on it after begging Heimerdinger to give me access to the restricted archives. Obviously, in the past, the Academy wanted to destroy or lock away any arcane-related research, you know? He's the only one who remembered they existed..."

For the next half an hour, Sky poured out her research to him, her passion and enthusiasm lifting the heavy emotional weight from earlier. Viktor watched her, studying the way her eyes lit up whenever she explained a particularly exciting find, and felt something stir inside him. How had he completely missed her brilliance all this time?

"So, from what I can tell, the new Hexcore will need all five parent runes, as well as the capability to utilise all of their derivatives, to harness the arcane's power correctly," Sky summarised. She then leafed to the back of her notebook and shyly revealed an updated blueprint she'd sketched. "I'm sorry it's so rough, I'm sure you could do a better job, you're the inventor-"

"Sky," Viktor breathed, carefully grasping the revised design. His golden eyes slowly absorbed Sky's work, a look of wonder capturing his features. "This is incredible."

Sky felt her cheeks flush with heat, and she ducked her head out of self-consciousness. "Oh, wow...that means a lot, coming from you."

"Well, your work warrants it," he replied simply, a tired smile softening his face.

"Oh, another thing," Sky continued, flipping through her notes with fervour. "According to my research, one's emotions, mental state, and intention...or simply 'inspiration', channels the arcane most effectively. So, no need for...blood. Or, um, shimmer. That gets dangerous."

"So we've seen," Viktor grimaced. He couldn't believe Heimerdinger had failed to mention this other side to arcane research. Perhaps he thought it was a safety precaution to limit the power magic could have if discovered and used in Piltover. Bury the knowledge, and limit Hextech's potential—yet also keep it safer.

But then again, Heimerdinger did give Sky access eventually. Maybe he was just trying to help her catch her big break? As recompense for being so reluctant with Jayce initially? Who knew.

"Anyway," Sky murmured, "I've also got a collection of notes on how rune combinations have been used historically...some are associated with healing...why are you looking at me like that?"

Viktor blinked rapidly and shook his head, embarrassment flooding him. "Like what?"

Sky gave him a curious smile and gently closed her notes, trying to slow her heartbeat after feeling the intensity of his amber gaze. "Oh, never mind," she chuckled, tapping her fingers on the cover nervously. "You should probably clean those wounds."

"Ah," Viktor mumbled self-consciously. He gingerly made his way over to the lab's basin and began slowly unwrapping his right palm.

"I'll get the lab's first aid kit," Sky called to him, hurrying off to another cupboard. A short while later, she was assisting Viktor with dressing both his right hand and the carved runes on his arms and torso.

"I apologise you had to see me like this," Viktor whispered, leaning into Sky's touch as she carefully applied antiseptic cream around a series of cuts on one of his shoulders. "Very unprofessional."

"I think we're well past that being a problem," Sky laughed, finishing up with the final gauze strip. Once done, she paused briefly, her brows creasing with concern as she examined his spinal brace. "You have...screws in your spine."

"Back surgery," Viktor replied nonchalantly. "One of them also helps me align my brace. That's what you get from a poor leg and years of incorrect cane use."

"I had no idea," Sky murmured, shyly packing away the remains of the first aid kit. "I'm sorry."

"Well, no one in the undercity knew any better," Viktor sighed. With a groan, he awkwardly stood up again and moved to begin gathering his clothes.

Meanwhile, Sky had begun writing up replacement notes for used medical supplies. An audible hiss of pain from Viktor made her pen slip on the paper in surprise.

"How's your hand?" She called over her shoulder as she corrected her work. "Would you, um...like my help or anything?"

Wait no I can't ask to dress him what the hell are you thinking, Sky-

"Buttons," was all Viktor managed to say, flinching again as he struggled with his work shirt. It was only a simple cut to the hand—why did it hurt so much?

"Oh, okay," Sky mumbled, hastily scribbling the last few items down. "One second!"

After returning the first aid kit, she quickly made her way back to Viktor, who faced her with a look of frustration and a depressed gesture to his torso. She gave him an awkward smile and rapidly did up each button, her fingers trembling from self-conscious nerves.

"Thank you," he replied softly, smoothing out the shirt fabric with his uninjured hand.

Sky waved a hand to say 'no problem', and busied herself with tidying her research notes until he was completely dressed again. Well. Save for his necktie, which he adamantly refused to bother with as it was pointless this late at night.

"So," Sky announced, clapping her hands together. "What are our next steps?"

Viktor released a drawn-out breath, a sense of trepidation rippling through him again. "We need to destroy the first Hexcore. It's too unstable and dangerous to be of any use now."

At this, the misshapen Hextech device trembled violently, releasing plumes of corrupted arcane energy.

Sky's eyes narrowed in suspicion at the Hexcore's response to this. "Yes. I agree."

Viktor raised an eyebrow at her. "You aren't...going to insist on me sleeping?"

The other scientist let out a defeated sigh and offered him a rueful smile. "No. Tonight's an exception. We've got arcane mysteries to solve and lives to save, don't we?"

A flame of hope fluttered within Viktor's chest at this. He couldn't blame time poor Jayce for his conflicting priorities, no—he was just thankful to have another likeminded individual to share this burden with now.

However, as soon as this feeling ignited, it was extinguished—replaced by a primal roil of adrenaline-fuelled fear rising inside him. As his emotions lurched, so did the Hexcore—it pulsated and trilled violently in disturbing harmony.

"Viktor? Are you okay?"

The lanky scientist gasped in pain as an electric surge rippled through his augmented leg.

Was that...a warning?

"Sky...I'm so sorry," he hissed as the pain continued. "I think...I think you need to do it."

Sky's gaze was fixed on his right leg. Despite being hidden by trousers, she could see the pulsating purple glow of energy behind the fabric. "Is the Hexcore doing that to you?"

Golden eyes, filled with pain, met hers. "Yes."

"But-" Sky stammered, "if it's hurting you because we threatened it- what'll happen when we...?"

Viktor clumsily reached for the stool again to take the weight off his leg. "I- I don't know," he gasped, clutching his thigh. "I don't know. But we need to try."

"Okay," she replied, bouncing in place. "Okay. I've got this.”

"You can't get too close," Viktor warned, squeezing his eyes shut. "The Hexcore...whatever consciousness it has, it's furious and afraid. It- it'll kill you."

"Oh, great!" Sky exclaimed, looking at him pointedly. "Destroy it, but don't touch it. Sounds easy."

"I'm sorry," he winced, beads of sweat rolling down his neck.

Sky huffed in frustration. She had to think of something, and quick—she hated seeing Viktor in pain like this. She scanned the room in a panic, desperately searching for anything that might work.

Wait.

Was that a bomb on Jayce's workbench?

Dismantled and disarmed, yes—but that was definitely a bomb.

Sky quickly made her way over to the absent scientist's desk and gestured to the device. "Is this an explosive?"

Viktor's eyes went wide with realisation. "Yes, yes—if I could rearm it, perhaps we could-"

"No, no, I take it back. Too unpredictable." Sky shook her head, squeezing the bridge of her nose. That was crazy. There was no telling how violent the reaction would be. They'd destroy the Hexcore, certainly—but probably themselves and half the building at the same time.

Suddenly, Viktor gasped. "The Hexclaw."

Sky crinkled her nose in confusion briefly. "Oh! You mean that remotely-controlled Hextech arm, right?"

Viktor nodded through another wince, but his expression quickly turned doubtful. "Eh, actually, the light ray might still be too dangerous...oh, wait."

Sky squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists with desperation. "Please tell me you've got another idea, Viktor."

"It might not come close to Jayce's gauntlets in terms of crushing power, but I still designed the Hexclaw with grip strength well beyond the average human. The force alone might be enough to shatter the gemstone inside."

Sky glanced at the Hexcore nervously. "I know the gemstones are far more stable, but... can't they still explode under rare circumstances?"

"From extreme heat, there's a slim chance. But under physical force, we designed them to break into shards, disrupting the arcane current inside and rendering them useless- urgh."

Sky was by his side in seconds as Viktor lurched in agony. "Hey, hey! Are you alright?"

"The- the Hexcore didn't-" he coughed, blood marring his lips, "it didn't- like that- must be- a good- idea-"

Sky set her jaw with determination. "I'm on it."

As Viktor waited, enduring the agony of his leg and supressing his urge to cough, Sky turned into a one-woman tornado. In minutes, she had the Hexclaw in position, and quickly hurried Viktor outside the lab's reinforced doors.

"Sky-" he wheezed as she readied the remote Hexclaw glove, "if this- fails- you need to know- how... thankful I..."

"Ssh," she chastised, turning the gemstone dial on the back of her hand. "Just concentrate on staying alive, okay?"

Before she could begin, a trembling hand grasped her free wrist. Viktor locked eyes with her, his gaze the same intensity as when she shared her research. "Sky- I mean it."

Sky felt her heart skip at this.

And then, in the heat of the moment, she dropped a peck on his lips.

"There," she gasped, chest fluttering, "in case we don't make it." Then, in one fluid motion, she entered the room, arched the Hexclaw and plunged it deep into the Hexcore's centre, crushing it with all her might.

An ungodly screech, mixed with Viktor's agonized screams, penetrated her eardrums. Furious tendrils of twisted arcane energy swirled violently from the Hexcore, flailing with intent to consume, but Sky was relentless.

Crystal cracked. She was going to stop this.

Blood-bonds broke. She was going to save Viktor.

Shimmer screamed. She was going to help the undercity.

Sky felt her skin burning.

Blinding purple light engulfed the room.

Dying eldritch rage shattered the windows.

Silence fell.

Surrounded by glimmering powder, Viktor let out a quiet, painful groan, his eardrums buzzing. Slowly, painfully, he raised his body off the floor, his thoughts distorted and unclear.

"...Sky?" He whispered as his vision refocused. On the lab's floor, he could make out an indistinct shape obscured by dust. Panic erupted within him and he lurched forward on his stomach, his augmented leg dragging him down like dead weight. "Sky!? No!"

The moment he reached what he thought was Sky, panic seized him as he frantically brushed his hands through the dust, fearing the worst.

And then, he heard a soft, quiet moan, followed by loud, dry coughing. The glimmering fragments shifted and there she was, haphazardly trying clear her eyes and lungs.

"Oh, Sky," Viktor's voice cracked, and before she finished coughing, he collected her into a tight hug.

"Hang on- let- let me breathe," she wheezed, sending plumes of gold-purple dust past Viktor's head.

Airways clear, Sky froze as she realised the position she was in.

On the floor, covered in what looked like corrupted Hexcore dust, and Viktor embracing her with all his might.

She wasn't going to lie; this was not how she predicted this night would go.

Was she complaining?

Well, no, but-

"You did it," Viktor whispered into her shoulder, squeezing her again.

"Well. The two of you certainly did something."

"Councillor Medarda!?" Sky lurched backwards from Viktor in shock, struggling to her feet. Sure enough, Mel was leaning against the doorway with a bemused expression on her face.

Viktor rolled onto his back, pinning Mel with a mock-irritated stare. "Wait a minute- this isn't your bedroom! What are you doing here?"

"Viktor!" Sky exclaimed, glaring at him with heated embarrassment.

Mel merely raised an eyebrow at them both, a sly smirk tugging her lips. "Well, whatever happened here, it was quite...explosive. There'll be enforcers on both of you in minutes. Care to explain?"

Stifling another cough, Viktor's expression turned serious. He groaned as he dragged himself into a kneeling position. "We were carrying out one of Professor Heimerdinger's final requests before he was relieved of duty. One of our Hextech experiments went wrong, and we promised to destroy it."

"Hm. A passable story," Mel considered, tapping a finger to her chin. She nodded. "I think it'll hold. Don't worry. I won't breathe a word to Jayce."

"But, it wasn't- that isn't-" Sky stumbled, gesturing desperately to Viktor. "He's telling the truth, Councillor!"

"I'm not here to judge, Miss Young," Mel replied, raising a hand in surrender. "Besides, I owe Viktor a favour. I'll even throw in a window repair request for tomorrow. That won't surprise anyone; it's not the first time he's shattered the glass."

Awash with embarrassment, Sky found herself lost for words. She couldn't decide what was worse - a councillor walking in on them and getting the wrong idea, or having to explain themselves to enforcers.

"Sky-" Viktor mumbled quietly, "could you pass me my crutch?"

Thankful for the practical request, Sky immediately claimed it from where it rested against the workbench.

"Oh, and Viktor?"

Mel's voice, now laced with quiet seriousness, made them both pause.

"Do you know Jayce's whereabouts, by any chance? I planned on coming here later to ask, but your commotion rearranged my priorities."

A dark, melancholy look passed over Viktor's features as he steadied himself with his crutch. "Have you checked the forge?"

Mel almost scoffed. "Yes. Of course I did."

Viktor stared at the floor, his voice flat. "Did you notice any recent use?"

This statement made Mel's eyes narrow in suspicion. She turned on her heel and paced for a moment.

Then, as the memory of the forge solidified, she froze, a look of horror in her eyes. "He decided, didn't he."

"I can't say for sure where he's gone, but..." Viktor mumbled, "...he's a councillor. He'll be back by tomorrow."

Mel cursed under her breath and briefly clenched a fist, trying to supress the emotional war raging inside her. "...alright. Thank you anyway."

As she turned to leave, Mel caught sight of Sky, who was looking between her and Viktor with confused anxiety.

"Fear not, Miss Young," she reassured. "I know both of you were truthful. I merely wanted to lighten the mood, if only for a moment, in these...difficult times. I will handle any enforcer enquiries on my way out."

And with that, Councillor Medarda left as suddenly as she came, the only sign of her turbulent mind being the run her fading footsteps turned into down the hallway.

"Thank you," Sky mouthed, relief blossoming in her chest as she slid to the floor in exhaustion.

She looked up to see Viktor staring at her with open concern. "Are you alright?"

Sky shook her head briefly and clenched her fingers in the dust to ground herself. "I think so. What about you?"

"Eh, like I used to be," he lamented, shifting his crutch under his armpit for emphasis. "Heavier, though. Still metal."

"Not dead, though," Sky replied with a small, wobbly smile. She gradually stood again, using a nearby desk for stability. "Can't say the same for the Hexclaw, unfortunately."

Viktor's expression darkened as he observed the twisted metal that remained. "Probably for the best."

Sky titled her head in confusion. "But...I remember you working on it for months-"

"Wait. Wait," Viktor interrupted, a tragic look of betrayal in his eyes. "The gauntlets. Did you see them when you retrieved the Hexclaw?"

The other scientist narrowed her eyes as she thought.

"...no," she mumbled, moving to examine where they should've been. All that remained on the trolley were fist-shaped silhouettes set against a fine layer of dust. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Oh…we truly lost ourselves..." Viktor whispered, hiding his face in his hands briefly. He took a long, slow breath through his slender fingers to calm himself.

"Viktor, please. Tell me what's wrong." Sky returned to his side, her expression begging for answers.

"The Council asked us to go against our morals—to build Hextech weapons," Viktor spat, his disgust evident. "I...I never thought Jayce would actually agree to it, but now..."

Sky winced audibly at this.

She knew how passionate Viktor was about using Hextech for helping people, not harming them...

Suddenly, Viktor's voice dropped to a whisper.

"Mel could've died tonight too, you know."

"...what?"

"It could've been her, you, or Jayce..." Viktor stammered, staring at his trembling fingers. "My decision was no different to his."

He felt Sky gently steady his hands with her own.

"We can only move forward," she whispered, her gaze hopeful. She delicately removed the Hextech gemstone from the Hexclaw glove and rested it in his palms. "We have a second chance—let's not waste it."

Viktor managed a weak nod in response, closing his fingers around the brilliant orb.

"Well, we destroyed the Hexcore, Mark I," Sky said with finality, clapping her hands together. She stepped over to Viktor's workbench, wiped the dust off his safety goggles, and handed them to him with a wry smile. "Are we ready to build Mark II?"

Finally, Viktor managed a half smile, looping the goggles around his wrist. Building illegal devices in the dead of night with another brilliant mind...such nostalgic familiarity gave him courage to believe this insanity might just save his life.

And, maybe, just maybe...countless others.

"Yes...yes," he murmured, the fires of hope daring to burn inside him again. "I think we are."

Sky beamed at him, squeezed him with an impulsive hug, and made for the doorway.

"All great discoveries are fuelled by coffee," she grinned. "I'll be right back!"

As he watched Sky disappear down the corridor, Viktor felt his stomach flip at the sight.

Huh.

Funny what a bit of hope could do.

Maybe, if this somehow worked out...

...he'd have time to entertain romance after all.

~ Fin ~

93 notes · View notes

verfound · 3 years

Note

Here in this diary! (I think I know but I wanna seeee)

...I was honestly gonna save these for the next two WIPWednesdays, but then someone said @lukanettejune had Villain!Luka as today's prompt (6/4), and it just seemed like it'd be fun to share this today?

Because I've been sitting on Villain!Butterfly!Luka for a while now without having a lot of time to work on it, and I'm pretty sure the only ones I've discussed it with are the OG LBSC crew. And y'all will never believe when I say our Fluffy Meet Cute Queen is the one who gave me the prompt. 😁

The prompt started with Marinette recording Guardian/Ladybug-specific things in her diary, in case anything ever happened to her (because superheroes typically don't have a long life expectancy lbr), to explain - or to lead the next Guardian. I can't remember if Luka specifically getting the diary/Marinette giving it to him was the original idea (it's LBSC it probably was), but it...ran away with me. And Shadowman was born.

The summary: Under normal circumstances, Luka would never read someone’s diary. But Marinette’s been missing since Ladybug’s death, and he’s desperate. Every page gives him new insight into the girl he was realizing he never really knew. Every page reveals just how much Paris had failed its beloved heroine – how much he had failed her. Now Luka Couffaine is out for revenge, and the only person who could stop him is gone.

So here's what I've got.

We open on the death of Ladybug. It's the final showdown with Hawkmoth, and Viperion is the only 'temporary' hero there because LB thought they'd need Second Chance (and he's the only one she really trusts anymore). Viperion and Chat Noir are standing over LB's body, and Hawkmoth is cackling behind them, Mayura crumpled at his feet. He tells them he might not have won, but they haven't either - "Your hero is dead! Your precious Ladybug is DEAD!"

And Viperion walks over and just clocks him. He takes Hawkmoth and Mayura's Miraculous, but when he turns around Chat and Ladybug are gone. This leads him to believe Chat has LB's body/her Miraculous - but he's...confused. Did this mean they won? He hears the sirens approaching and waits for the police. Before they take hi away, Gabriel asks him: "Have you actually won anything? Is Paris truly safe?"

Two weeks pass. It's a mixed bag: Hawkmoth is defeated, but Chair Noir hasn't been seen or heard of since the defeat, and Ladybug is dead. Paris is safe but in mourning. Luka is guilt-ridden over Ladybug's death, convinced he could have prevented it and his failure to fix it makes him an unworthy Snake. He renounces Sass, and he's been keeping the Snake, Butterfly, and Peacock in a safe place.

In this 'verse, Luka doesn't know or suspect that Marinette is Ladybug. Immediately after the battle, Luka called Marinette. He needed to talk to her, to see her - but she never answered. He tried to go over the next morning, but Sabine calls him and lets him know Marinette wasn't in her bed that morning. They didn't hear her leave, but she's not answering her phone and they can't find her - has he seen her? So for two weeks he has been at the bakery almost constantly, tirelessly helping Tom and Sabine search for Marinette. No one can find her. No one's heard from her. And he's starting to go a little nuts.

(Note that this takes place during summer - HM was defeated right before break. Dingo's back in Australia for the summer, which is important for Reasons. Luka's not in school, stopped going to work, and is using pretty much all his time to help look for Marinette.)

So it's been two weeks. No akumas because no Hawkmoth, a dead Bug, and a missing Marinette. Luka's at the bakery, shambling around Marinette's room. Tom and Sabine are downstairs, waiting on a call from Roger who may have found a lead. And Luka's just poking around, spiraling, when he notices...the box with Marinette's diary is open. It wasn't open before. And there, on top of her diary, are two letters: one addressed to him and one addressed to Chat Noir.

So he reads his. It's a goodbye/Just In Case letter. She explains how she was hoping he wouldn't find it/she wouldn't need it. She'd set a magical lock on the box, so that if something happened and she didn't come back...and she's sorry. She's so sorry, because she never wanted to drag Luka back into this, but she needed him. She tells him her diary will explain everything: she wrote everything down, and she always thought it was because she just loved to journal, but she realized it was because she never had any proper training. The next Ladybug/Guardian deserves better. If she doesn't make it, the next LB/Guardian has to be prepared. Better than she was.

And Luka can't move. Can't breathe, can't think. Because the letter had been addressed to him, and he wasn't going to read it, but he had hoped maybe there was a clue, except the clue was...Marinette is Ladybug.

Ladybug is dead.

...Marinette is dead.

And it's all his fault.

And he reads her diary, convinced he had to have misunderstood...but it's all there. Everything. Becoming Ladybug, her spiraling feelings for Adrien, Chat being so pushy with his affections, her troubles with Lila and the class, the expulsion, Alya constantly pushing/pressuring her with Adrien, becoming Guardian, feeling like she had to bear everything because Chat was so lackadaisical/reckless/self-sacrificing, her growing feelings for Luka...and Luka realizes it's true. She was Ladybug, and she was going through so much more than she ever let on. And he realizes that all of them - even him - only made it worse. And they're not going to find Marinette, because Ladybug is dead, and they never found Ladybug's body, and...he just goes numb.

He walks out of her room. Out of the bakery. He doesn't answer Tom or Sabine when they ask if he's ok. He just...walks. And he doesn't fully realize any of this/where he was going/doing until he wakes up the next morning in his bed with tears still drying on his face. And Juleka's there, and she's like "bro wtf?" because he's freaking her the hell out, and he just says: "...she's gone."

And for the first time ever, Luka looks at Juleka and is...angry. Furious. And he can't talk to her. He realizes he blames her. He blames himself. He blames everyone: her 'friends', her classmates, her family, Paris...if they had all tried harder, been better, then she wouldn't be...if they hadn't left her all alone...

And Luka just Shuts Down. Everyone's worried about him, but he won't talk about it. He's closing himself off to everyone - even Juleka and Anarka. Sabine calls Anarka, because Luka went from being at the bakery every day helping the search to nothing, but Anarka has no idea?

Luka keeps rereading the diary. He's stuck in this loop of "I should have known," "we should have helped her," "this is our fault..."

And another week or so passes. There's still no sign of Marinette, except now Luka knows why - knows that she's never coming back. And he finally goes back to the bakery to tell Tom and Sabine what he knows, because it's cruel to put them through this any longer. He has the diary, her letter, and the three Miraculous stones with him. And they're all sitting in the kitchen, and he's trying to talk and failing to find the words.

The news is playing in the background: Nadja is doing a special on the rise and fall of Paris's beloved heroine. She comments how Chat Noir hasn't been seen since the "battle that freed Paris from Hawkmoth's reign of terror" and speculates that it's because he's mourning his lover. And Luka just...snaps. Shouts "That lying bitch!" at the television. Sabine asks if he's ok, but he's not - Ladybug is gone. Marinette is gone. And nobody cares. Nobody realized they caused it. And they need to be held accountable - they need to pay.

Tom and Sabine knew about Silencer, of course, but they've never seen calm, sweet Luka so angry before - and it terrifies them. And Tom tries to tell Luka that it's ok - Marinette's not gone, not like Ladybug is. They're going to find her. They can't give up hope. And Luka realizes her own parents didn't even know. They didn't notice. They did nothing to see or stop how she was hurting. And as much as he loves them, he realizes they must pay, too - and he's the only one who can make them. He has her diary. He has the Butterfly. He can make them all realize how alone they left her. He can make them all feel as hopeless as they made her feel - as he feels now.

And he tells Tom he's wrong: Marinette is dead. Marinette was Ladybug, and she's dead, and she's never coming home, and it's all their fault - even his. But they don't believe him, and he leaves without showing them the diary. He just feels...defeated.

Back at the Liberty, he comes home to find Juleka and Rose watching the same report. And he retreats to somewhere deep in the Liberty, somewhere private, where he can don the Butterfly. He starts flipping through the diary, and he finds a passage where Marinette was venting about Nadja: her journalistic integrity ("No wonder Alya thinks its' ok when THAT'S Paris's example!"), the Prime Queen interview when she was more interested in pushing LadyNoir than discussing Hawkmoth, about how she's ALWAYS been like that, how many times she's called her last-minute to watch Manon to chase a story...and it's important to note that none of these things are inherently bad, or that Marinette is saying Nadja's awful for them. She's venting in her diary, like you do. But Luka's in such a dark place by this point that it only makes things worse.

He tears the page out and keeps reading and rereading it. Keeps thinking how Nadja must pay. HE summons Nooroo, and before Nooroo can speak Luka tells him everything that happened. Hawkmoth's gone, but so is LB. That Paris let their Guardian fall. Nooroo is devastated because that means Tikki's gone, too, and what about the Miracle Box? Luka assures him he'll take care of the Box, but Paris has to answer for what they did. Nooroo agrees to help, gives Luka a basic rundown of the Butterfly's powers, and Luka transforms - except Nooroo didn't explain everything, and Luka didn't have Marinette's training, so he doesn't realize Nooroo doesn't need negative emotions. He thinks you have to upset someone to create an akuma.

So he takes the diary page to the TVi studios and confronts Nadja on air. He introduces himself as Shadowman. (For a hot second he considers introducing himself as 'Shadowmoth' - which I would like to point out this story was started before that name was dropped so fuck you Gabriel - but it's too close to 'Hawkmoth', and Hawkmoth was the one who killed Marinette. He refuses to be associated with him/take his name.) He tells Nadja and the world that Ladybug was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. That Marinette is dead because Ladybug is dead. And that Paris caused it.

He accuses Nadja of sensationalizing Ladybug and the akumas/battles. He reads the diary page on air. Nadja doesn't believe him at first, but then he gives her the page and she recognizes Marinette's handwriting. Realizes he's right. She's overcome by guilt/grief, and Shadowman creates an akuma. It goes into the diary page, and Prime Queen is reborn as Telecaster.

And this was all live. All of Paris is watching the broadcast, and they know they aren't safe.

Cut to where Adrien's been hiding. He sees the whole thing, and he can't believe it - until he hears the people in the studio screaming. He realizes he has to do something, because Paris isn't safe anymore, and this time there's no Ladybug to fix his mistakes.

Back at TVi, Telecaster is attacking everyone. As Nadja she was determined to tell the news, even to the point of amping up stories for ratings - but that was kinda forced by her producer? So she's going after the bigwigs at the studio for forcing her to be so ratings-focused/sensationalistic. And she's just destroying the studio, which is...fine. Paris has other media outlets...right? It's just chaos.

Chat Noir finally shows his face and demands to know what Shadowman thinks he's doing/who he is. Part of Shadowman's disguise is literal darkness, so he lets the shadows recede and lets Chat actually see him. And Chat realizes it's Viperion/Luka - and he pleads with him to stop. That LB/Marinette wouldn't want this - that she loved this city and knowing he was attacking it would kill her.

And it's just...the wrong thing to say. Shadowman says the city was what killed her, and they have to answer for it. That Chat has to answer for it. But Chat doesn't understand - he was LB's partner? Her friend? He was at the final battle with her - how is her death his fault?

But Shadowman tells him it's not his time yet. He is coming for him - he will get his Miraculous back for the Box - but not yet. He will get LB's Miraculous back (note that he's operating under the belief that Chat has LB's body/Miraculous, so he honestly believes CHat will just use them to purify the akuma and fix the damage - except Chat doesn't and can't). But Paris must suffer first, just like Marinette suffered. He disappears before Chat can go after him - and then Telecaster is attacking and he has to focus on her.

And Chat does defeat Telecaster, but there's no LB. No one to purify the akuma or fix the damage. He doesn't actually have her Miraculous, so what now? (This leads to Chat having a growing collection of butterfly jars with akumas and no idea how to fix it. Paris needs LB - he needs LB.)

After leaving Chat to deal with Telecaster, Shadowman goes back to the bakery to retrieve the Miracle Box. Marinette's skylight was always open (he always assumed it was because it's the roof no one can enter through there - except now he realizes it was easy access for Ladybug). Tom and Sabine hear noise from her room and burst in with umbrellas/paddles/whatever but freeze when they see Shadowman standing there with the Box. They try and stop him: they saw the report, they know who he is, they realize who Marinette was, and believe it's now their duty to protect the Box, since Marinette can't. And Shadowman is livid, because "You couldn't even protect her. You never even noticed...your home is supposed to be safe. Your parents are supposed to keep you safe. When did you ever do that?"

He akumatizees Tom and Sabine before he leaves: the dual-akuma Safe Harbor. There's no diary page left with them because Marinette never actually spoke out against her parents in the diary: it's just Luka's frustration with them. He leaves them there and goes back to the Liberty to retieve Sass, Duusu, and the diary.

Back at TVi, Chat realizes that if LB was Marinette and LB was the Guardian then Marinette would have the Miracle Box. He takes his coffee mug with the akuma and books it back to the bakery, except her skylight door is now locked? The balcony was always open to him, but is now locked? So he has to go in through the side/home door as Adrien.

Tom greets him. Is being very jittery/Concerned Parent and acting Weird - and so is Sabine. They're both worrying over him, apologizing about Gabriel, asking if he's ok - and he can't get a word in edgewise. Finally yells at them to stop - he needs to see Marinette's room. He needs to get the Miracle Box. And they just...freeze. They don't react at first. He tells them he knows they saw the news - everyone did - so they have to know that Marinette was LB. And LB had the Miracle Box/all the Miraculous gems, and he has to get them back. But they try and laugh it off (again, it's all very stilted), and he finally just transforms. Says he was LB's partner, and with her gone it's on him to protect the Box now. Except when he looks back at them the butterfly mask is over their eyes and he realizes they're akumatized, too - and he just gave his identity away to Shadowman.

Safe Harbor is like a Stepford version of Tom and Sabine. They're turning the bakery into a fortress because they couldn't keep Marinette safe, so now they're making it the ultimate safe haven. And even though Shadowman realizes Adrien's identity, Safe Harbor doesn't fully? They just see it as Adrien fighting back/resisting their protection - so they deem him a threat and start attacking him. (Again, no diary page here: the akumatized object is a family photo of Tom, Sabine, and Marinette.)

After the fight, Chat goes to trap the akuma in the coffee cup with the other one - only to realize the cup is empty. He remembers akumas can phase through objects, and he has no feasible way of trapping the akumas. But...Cataclysm destroyed Uncanny Valley. Could it maybe destroy akumas, too? Before he can try it, the akuma is released and a white butterfly flutters away.

Across the street, Shadowan is lurking and watching him. He doesn't understand why Chat didn't use Ladybug's powers to purify the akuma. Why isn't Chat fixing any of this? Does he want to watch the city burn? He thinks Chat's just being stubborn. Well, he can be stubborn, too. He has to up his game next time. He releases the akuma because, deep down, Shadowman is still Luka. He still cares about the city and the people he's going after. Maybe a little sliver of conscience not letting him go all-out yet?

So Luka returns to the Liberty long enough to retrieve Sass, Duusu, and the diary before he realizes he has to leave. Adrien is Chat, and Adrien was the one who chose him as Viperion, so Chat knows who he is/where to find him, too. Juleka catches him before he leaves, and says, "...I was afraid it was you. On the TV. Luka, you have to stop this." "None of you stopped. I don't see why I should, either."

Luka goes into hiding. He remembers reading about Master Fu's old shop in the diary. Master Fu had left it to Marinette as a safe house, but as far as he knows Chat doesn't go there anymore (no reason to) and doesn't realize he knows about it. (Eventually, later on, Chat does go there and catches Luka - so Luka ends up hiding out at Dingo's home, bc the Kings are in Australia for the summer/it's empty.)

Aaaand that's all I have of the outline so far. 😂 The idea is Luka creates a hit list using the diary: Nadja, Tom and Sabine, Mayor Bourgeois, Alya, The Girl Squad (yes even Juleka and Rose), Lila, Chloé, Marinette's class in general, Mlle. Bustier, M. Damocles, Master Fu, Chat Noir/Adrien, and finally Luka himself. He confronts each person with a page torn from the diary, and he uses Marinette's own words to convince them of their guilt. With the exception of Tom and Sabine, the akuma is always in the diary page. Chatdrien is Luka's 'last' target, because as Ladybug's partner he blames him most - except the real 'last target' is actually Luka.

He plans his final akuma almost like a suicide mission, hoping that Chat will Cataclysm him/take him out when Shadowman kills him, so they're both defeated simultaneously. Except...

Things don't go as planned. Because Ladybug wasn't dead. The Guardians were able to heal her. And she was never supposed to see Luka this way.

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out-there-so-it-isnt-just-me · 3 years

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Hey guys...I have an idea if you aren't sad enough yet. I was struck by a painful comparison sort of crossover idea. It would never be canon, but I'm mourning the end of Campaign Two, and I want to be sad and over-dramatic. Essek, but as Eliza from Hamilton in “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story.” But, it’s for the entire Mighty Nien. Some of the lyrics are so on point for a poor Essek who will probably outlive all of his friends (Elves still generally live longer than Firbolgs by a good 200 years). Anyway, enjoy.

Every other founding father's story gets told

It occurs to Essek, during one of the many periods without one of the Mighty Nein (the time that he dwells on them the most), how unfair their whole situation is. They saved all of Exandria, and no one knows. They are amazing, and odd, and frustrating, and no one knows. They will die loved deeply, but not widely. He knows they prefer it that way, all things considered. But, everyone else who saves all of Exandria becomes legends, while the people he loves best will be forgotten, remembered only by him.

And that. That sounds unbearable.

So, in-between the times he sees the Mighty Nein, he begins to gather accounts. He writes down stories from those they helped, or simply left an impression on. The people who have met the Mighty Nein have an air about them that he gets good at detecting. They attracted the oddballs and the outcasts. And if they're entirely normal (whatever that means), then they usually get a certain twitch if you ask for stories about interesting strangers. About half the time, a certain blue tiefling pops up in them. He almost has a heart attack when he hears “go fuck yourself,” in Jester’s cheerful voice, when he knows Jester isn’t anywhere near there. He ends up getting the kenku’s story, and the voices of his friends are weaved into it. Essek thinks the Mighty Nein are the best people in the world, in their own rambunctious way. Part of him wants the world to love them as he does, or at least have the option to. Everyone should have a chance to get to know them, even if it's just through tales. The world would be a better place for it.

...And when you're gone, who remembers your name?

Who keeps your flame?

Who tells your story?

Once there is only him and Caduceus left, this becomes a more prominent part of how he spends his time. After...after a long, long period of mourning. He has so much life left to live without most of the people who made it worth living.

I put myself back in the narrative

I stop wasting time on tears

I live another 50(0) years

He stops hiding his past and bears his sins and his story to the world. Essek tells his story so their story can be appreciated to the fullest; his part in their story emphasizes the depth of their compassion and chaos. He tells his story, but not as himself. Essek continues to drift from town to town under a vast number of aliases. Everywhere he goes, he spreads his stories of his friends, some serious, most silly. He disguises himself so he can stay alive to do a little more good, tell a few more stories, to truly live the life his friends wanted for him.

...I try to make sense of your thousands of pages of writings

You really do write like you're running out of time.

Eventually, he gets his hands on some of Beau’s journals, Jester’s diaries, and Caleb’s research. Well, he always had the research, but he gets to the point where he can share it with the world. He slowly begins to share and explain their thoughts and personalities with excerpts from those. Maybe he also has letters that he shares parts of (though most of those, those words specifically for him, he keeps to himself, for himself). He wonders if they'd be angry at him for spilling their private thoughts. But neither Beau nor Jester filtered their thoughts very much in the first place, and he keeps anything truly painful out of the public eye. Caleb, well, Caleb was always about sharing his knowledge and research, provided it wasn't dangerous. And they were all dead anyway. One of the last things they told him was to be happy. And talking about his friends, learning more about his friends even after they were long dead, that made him the happiest he'd been in a while. So he hoped they wouldn’t begrudge him this small joy he’d managed to grasp and forgive him, should it be necessary.

I rely on Angelica

While she's alive, we tell your story

She is buried in Trinity Church near you

When I needed her most, she was right on time

Caduceus isn’t particularly interested in being well known or famous, but he never shies away from telling a story about any of his friends. Plus, he thinks it’s a good project for Essek. It's a way to continue to show his love for them and keep them alive in the only way they can be now. When Caduceus eventually passes away, he joins the eight other graves (Veth refused to be buried apart from Yeza) that lay in a tucked-away corner of the Blooming Grove. There is one space left, nestled between where Caleb and Jester lay, but it will be empty for a long time yet.

And I'm still not through

I ask myself, what would you do if you had more time...

...You could have done so much more if you only had time

And when my time is up, have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

He keeps adding to his tale; he stretches it longer and longer with every shred he can remember. But, even his memory, as long as it is, runs out eventually. And their story finally ends, but he doesn't. He throws himself into activities that remind him of them. He does a lot of gardening ( mostly tea, poisonous plants, and flowers). He teaches children some rudimentary dunamancy in his spare time, for Caleb. He messes around with alchemy a little. Eventually, he publishes the last of the research that he and Caleb worked on together; ones that took him decades to solve by himself. He even finds himself drawing a surprising amount of dicks on random surfaces near the very end.

Oh, can I show you what I'm proudest of?

...I help to raise hundreds of children

I get to see them growing up

The time that doesn’t go towards his now worrying amount of hobbies, he spends doing what he has done since the beginning: caring for the Mighty Nien’s true legacy. He looks after and visits their children. He takes care of descendants of Luc, of Jester and Fjord, of the random teenager that Beau and Yasha seemed to adopt completely on accident, of TJ, of the Clays, and of a lovechild of Kingsley’s that found out who his father was and then somehow found Essek himself to learn about him. In an embarrassing show of sentimentality, Essek always keeps at least one offspring of Caleb's very first cat. There is a very funny story about Caleb thinking the animal was spayed when it was, in fact, not. He visits the different generations every couple of years or so (he has a schedule). The drow makes sure they know the stories of their ancestors, the adventures of the Mighty Nien; he tells them it's all real. He gives them ways to contact him if they’re in danger, or need any kind of help really ( he has funds to spare at this point). Every once in a while, a few of them will get it in their heads to write him yearly updates. It’s nice.

In their eyes, I see you, Alexander

I see you every time

And when my time is up

Have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

It is strange and painful to see the attitude and mannerisms of the Nein in the descendants who have never met them. It is wonderful too. His stories of the Mighty Nein have become well-known tales that no one can decide how much is truth and how much is fiction (it’s true, it’s all somehow, hilariously true). He preserved them in his own way, in the right way (time travel is something he thinks of with a growing hunger the more years pass between when he last laid eyes on his friends). But in these men, these women, these children, they are truly alive.

One little half-orc girl has Jester’s mischievous eyes and infectious joy. Another halfling man squints just like Veth when she's trying to figure out if someone is bullshitting her. There’s a boy who charmingly bumbles his way through most social encounters, as Fjord did. A firbolg woman who has Caduceus gentle smile. A tiefling girl with all the audacious bravado of Kingsley. A man with eyes just as piercing as Beau’s, and a tongue just as sharp. Even Yasha’s kind and gentle demeanor somehow shines through in one small boy, despite her having no direct descendants. He gets to see these flashes of his friends in those who survive them, and it thrills him as much as it cuts him. (Sometimes, when the current cat has ruined some item of his, the pleased look it wears resembles the quiet glee Caleb exuded after he pulled a successful prank, but he’s pretty sure that’s just fanciful thinking.)

One of the last things Essek does before he dies is fully publish, in print, the entire tale of the Mighty Nein. How they came together, every person they helped along the way. The love, the loss, the kindness, the chaos, every moment he could recall or record was put into this one account (necessarily stretched out into several separate books). There is only one set, and he hands it over to the Library of the Cobalt Soul in Rexxentrum. Then he goes on his lonely way.

Oh, I can't wait to see you again

It's only a matter of time

There are now ten graves, each one as unique as its owner, nestled in a small corner of the Blooming Grove. One grave has the dirt still fresh around it. And somewhere, beyond the Divine Gate, there are cheers and laughs and cries of joy as the Mighty Nien become the Mighty Nine once more.

fin.

It’s my head-canon that by the time Essek dies he’s practically a mythical figure among the select families he looks after. It's to the point that in certain locations ( that have a lot of Nein remnants) he becomes a local legend, the guardian angel of nien (no spelling specified and with no real distinction of what that means), with skin like the night sky who drifts (literally) through towns and helps those who meet a certain requirement, unknown to the general populus. There are rumors that certain people have bestowed upon them a token they could use to call upon the angel’s aid. Of course, the people who have the tokens (sending stones or something similar. IDK how he would get that many wondrous items, but I focus on satisfying narrative not, like, plausibility) know Essek and know that he has died and that the tokens no longer work, but for a while they keep them as heirlooms, to show the love of one drow wizard for the friends he had long, long ago. Eventually, one of Veth’s descendants sells off their set because sending stones are worth A LOT, and the money seemed more practical. They have their stories; those are enough.

And before anyone complains about the Kingsley bit, I felt compelled to add a smidgen of Kingsley content because Essek loves Jester and Jester’s with Fjord and Kingsley is with both of them for years. I’m sure they get to know each other well enough that seeing traits of Kingsley is vaguely nostalgic and warming, even if it lacks the depth and love he feels for everyone else. Also, there’s no convincing me that Molly/Kingsley doesn’t have at least one illegitimate child running around from various trysts, he was basically the Scanlan of this campaign. It goes with the hedonistic vibe he gives off.

Also, is it normal that I completely designed the Nein’s burial site in my head because I did? Like I imagine they’re all spaced out in a circle. It’s almost like a stone gazebo but there’s not really a roof; it’s just a group of nine pillars that support a stone circle. The entrance is the Traveler’s door with dicks around the edge, and each of the nine pillars/supports is designed to look the knowing mistresses staff. The stone circle is covered in carvings of storm clouds and lightning. Wires are strung across the center of the stone circle to form the symbol of the Cobalt Soul. Not that you can see the wires, because vines have been grown all around them. Once you step through the Traveler’s gate, you’ll find yourself on some kind of rough mosaic floor, with depictions of a peacock, a pyramid, a snake, a sun, a moon, and (oddly) a pirate ship. The mosaic is made up of buttons of various materials and shapes. In the center is a saltwater pool/spring (depending on how magical we can get idk) and floating above it is an eternal flame encased in some sort of dunamancy magic that doesn’t actually exist that keeps it floating and eternal. Look I'm running out of ideas.

I can’t imagine what everyone’s grave marker would be, but I’m pretty sure Yasha’s is a simple stone that says "YASHA NYDOORIN: wife of Zuella and Beauregard Lionette," and the place where’s she’s buried is just covered in wildflowers that spread outside of the gazebo to encircle the structure entirely up to the gate. Also, everyone has a stone tarot card by their grave with the picture and designation that Molly gave them. Beyond that grows a weirdly dense thicket of trees and bushes that make finding the Nein's resting place rather hard. It’s said only the descendants of the Nein’s family or those favored by the Wildmother (or Traveler, Or Ioun, or Storm Lord) can find their way to them. And one tree, directly behind Yasha, is dead, struck by lightning who knows how long ago.

And they’re buried in this order: Yeza/Veth, Caleb, Essek, Jester, Ford, Kingsley, Yasha, Beau, Cad. I know there’s a good chance that a) Kingsley would just eff off and die somewhere unknown and b) Cad would probably want to be buried with the rest of his family, but shhh let me dream.

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jodilin65 · 3 months

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It looks like some of the glitches on PB have been resolved, but I know it’s only a matter of time before there are other glitches, if not repeats of old ones. So, I’m just backing stuff up there privately for now, but will eventually go public again. For now, I just need a break from that site and its people. That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate any loyal followers following my boring life. One of my favorites is still very special to me. They’re a good person and I hope they don’t let anyone ever tell them otherwise. They’ve got something most people don’t have, and that’s a brain that actually works.

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magnoliapip · 3 years

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Ranked: Mother of the Year (Choices) Main Characters

I can’t sleep so that means I need to make another list that I’m not going to proofread before I post, right? Of course it does. But before we start, please remember this is my opinion on who I liked best. Not who impacted the story the most, not who was the best written fictional character of all time, yada yada. This is my personal opinion of the characters I liked best.

Spoilers WILL be featured below. You have been warned.

#13 -- Tallulah Copeland

Tallulah is a parent to a child at Bernhardt Academy, a friend of Vanessa Blackwood, and an active member of the PTA. Hugo is her partner.

This woman. I would flat forget this woman existed until she would show up again just to wreak havoc on MC’s day, usually at someone else’s urging. Every single time she spoke, I just wanted it to be over and she is just an awful, AWFUL person. She’s also the only awful person in this book who never pretends to be nice and/or never apologizes for her actions. Just an all around nasty person.

#12 -- Hugo

Hugo is a parent of a child at Bernhardt Academy and an active member of the PTA. Tallulah is his significant other.

If you’re actually reading these little blurbs, you have to be wondering “MagnoliaPip? How in the hell is Hugo ranked lower than two other unmentionables in this story?”

Thank you for asking, no one ever.

Put frankly, Hugo just annoyed the crap out of me. I know that’s supposed to be part of his character, but it went above and beyond the scope of acceptable annoyance. I grew to hate every second he was speaking. He never really contributed anything to the plot other than some irritating drivel. He wasn’t an antagonist, but he also wasn’t a pleasing good guy. He’s also the reason I’m considering not re-reading this book again right away like I want to.

#11 -- Guy Ledford

This man. This. Man. THIS MAN!

This part is going to include major spoilers, y’all, so if you haven’t read it and are still intending to, skip away now!! Again, major spoilers from here on out kids.

Guy Ledford is your main character’s ex-husband who has been absent for four years since the start of the book and wants to reconnect with his daughter. He is also a CEO of a snack food company/app, Nomme. He is the main antagonist of the book.

The reason I didn’t rank him lower is he genuinely adds something to the plot. He IS the plot. He’s the reason this book exists. However, he is such a scumbag he deserves nothing. He feels like a trope for quite a lot of the time, but at least he’s not physically abusive like a true trope could have been (at least, I never noticed him being physically abusive). Just, you know, a gaslighting, manipulative, arrogant, rude, selfish son of a-

I also love that they named him “Guy”. I’ve only ever met one man named this in my life, so it’s funny to me that they named this jerk “Guy” so it’s not only the most generic sounding name (did his parents also get a dog named “Dog” and a cat named “Kitty”?), but also one that a lot of men won’t likely have so they don’t have to get name checked in relation to him.

I like that you can get a good outcome (Guy ends up with joint custody with visitations every weekend and having to back pay) without spending diamonds in this game as long as you make the right choices, but for those who DID spend all of the diamonds, I would have liked to have seen Guy end up with worse. I would have liked to see, if you made most of the right choices and bought all of the diamond stuff, him ending up with every other weekend or maybe just visitation. I know he’s trying to be a good dad (but still an absolutely terrible human being), but every weekend seems like so much when your daughter is in school.

#10 -- Augustus Blackwood

August Blackwood is one of Vanessa Blackwood’s sons and is a student at Bernhardt Academy.

I’m not going to spend a lot of time on this one. But he hurt my daughter and that’s enough. I would have liked to have seen him fleshed out a little bit more beyond being basically just a schoolyard bully. His motivations for his actions are hinted on, but nothing is really ever done and he’s mostly just a prop for something to hurt your daughter.

#9 -- Vanessa Blackwood

Vanessa Blackwood is the president of the PTA, a single mom, and a lawyer and becomes an antagonist to your character.

I’m probably going to get hate for this, but I want to like Vanessa. Obviously, she’s hateful and offensive, in some very, very unredeemable ways, but there’s something about characters like that which makes me want to forgive them and teach them how to be better. How to rehabilitate their bitterness. I felt it with Olivia Nevrakis, I felt it with Victoria Fontaine, and I know certain people in the fandom felt it with Becca Davenport and Poppy Min-Sinclair.

**DISCLAIMER** Keep in mind, I’m not trying to excuse homophobia and racism here. They are both despicable things and should be accounted for. However, after having grown up in a homophobic and racist home and learning to leave that shit in the dust by the time I was eighteen and SLOWLY teaching my family to do the same over the course of the last 10 years, I believe people can change if you give them room and help to. Not everyone will, not many people will, but I believe in giving the chance. We need to force people to take responsibility and learn from their mistakes. Should the book have been approved as a series rather than a stand alone, I think this might have been a very real option within book 2.

#8 -- Ajax “AJ” Blackwood

Ajax Blackwood is one of Vanessa Blackwood’s sons and a student at Bernhardt Academy.

AJ is the quieter of the Blackwood boys, AJ is a shy kid who hates that his brother is mean just as much as your daughter does. He finally has enough within the book and stands up to him, which was more than a little satisfying and he does seem to have a genuinely good heart. I think it would be so cute for him, your daughter, and Luz to be their own adorable trio of friends.

#7 -- Levi Schuler

Levi Schuler is your neighbor who helps save the day for MC early on in the book and becomes a friend to both her and your daughter. He is also one of your love interests.

And if this list is going to invoke hate from the masses, it will be this entry that does it. I know how loved Levi is. And I love him too! I just find him, and his musician plot, to be a bit tiring. He’s a wonderfully supportive friend/love interest, just about one of the nicest people, and he’s great with your daughter. I swear, all of the love interests in this book would be god tier in any book. It’s truly unfair to the others that we got three amazing ones here along with a great cast of characters. However, since that did happen, Levi will sit here at #7. He can have a consolatory rugelach while I continue on.

#6 -- Faye Devore

Faye Devore is your ex-husband’s new girlfriend, a younger social media influencer.

I loved Faye. Right from the start, I loved Faye. I prayed they weren’t going to make this into one of those books where we were supposed to hate the “other woman” because those plots are old, outdated, and overused. Thankfully, MOTY lets us skirt right around it and we end up with a wonderful character like Faye, who is the human definition of having the best intentions.

She gets on well with your daughter, even pointing out to MC at one point that she thinks of her like a little sister, and goes above and beyond to make her happy. She is genuinely upset about going against MC’s wishes about your daughter appearing on social media and doesn’t appear to want to cause any harm or hard feelings with MC at any point during the book. In fact, she wants to be friends.

I would have loved for this and for it to be fleshed out more, again, if we had ever gotten a book 2. I’m also that jerk who would have totally romanced her in a replay and would have emptied my wallet to get a scene in that hypothetical book 2 where Guy finds out. Take that homophobe!

#5 -- Dr. Eiko Matsunaga

Dr. Eiko Matsunaga is a science teacher who teaches at the private school your daughter goes to and becomes friendly with MC because of your daughter. She is also one of your love interests.

If I would have had a teacher like Dr. Matsunaga when I was in school, maybe I would have cared about science at any point during my childhood. Eiko is so incredibly smart but has a heart of gold. She could be off teaching at colleges or writing published journals, but she’s teaching elementary science at a private school and honestly enjoying herself! She wants to see children succeed and will give any child who wants to do so, like your daughter, all of the help they need.

I want to romance her. I want to be her friend. I want it all because I’m selfish even when I don’t because I could never possibly be worthy of the supremacy that is Eiko. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

#4 -- Your Daughter / Zoey

Your daughter is 9 years old at the start of the book and desperately wants to be an astronaut. She is a science whiz and moves from public school to Bernhardt Academy at the beginning of the book to kickstart her education.

It makes me so sad that I will never actually have this child. “Zoey” is just so smart and funny and sweet and I love her so much. I spent so many diamonds on her. She’s a pixelated little bundle of amazing and I would die for her. That’s it.

#3 -- Alma Velasco

Alma Velasco is your neighbor, best friend, and (for part of the time) co-worker.

What did our character do to deserve such an amazing ride-or-die friend like Alma? She never disbelieves MC, is forever supportive as a shoulder to cry on and a supplier of good wine, and also helps MC out of more than one pinch. Seriously an amazing friend, and I wish we could have done something equally amazing for her to reciprocate.

#2 -- Thomas Mendez

Thomas Mendez is a lawyer and a single dad who becomes friends with MC very early on in the book. He is also one of your three love interests.

A big reason for why Thomas is at #2 is because of who #1 is but we’ll get there in a second.

There’s also something about Thomas that speaks to me as a person. It’s more than just being interested as a love interest or as a friend. There’s something about who he is. His awkwardness, his humor, his kindness and his generosity all make him someone I envy as much as I admire.

He takes on MC’s case pro bono when he doesn’t have to. He shrugs it off like it’s no big deal, but stepping back and looking at the it, by all accounts he was walking into a handily losing situation. He was also super busy at this time being a single parent himself and working on his class action lawsuit. That’s not even saying anything about him still grieving for Soledad.

However, the biggest reason I love Mr. Mendez is...

#1 -- Luz Mendez

Luz Mendez is a student at Bernhardt Academy who becomes best friends with your daughter early in the book. She is a soccer and art fan.

This little girl is the best thing I have ever read in my entire life. She made the entire book. Every character that came before her pales in comparison to her majesty. She is a goddamn queen and deserves everything.

Every scene with her is gold and I wish we had more. This little girl was completely willing to curb stomp someone with her cleats at the courthouse if something would have happened to your daughter. She is so aggressively herself and it is a joy to see. The relationship between her and her father is what really kept me going through the book’s more difficult spots. There is such true love and acceptance there, as well as the drive and desire to do better for the other than I just...There is really no way for me to properly explain the perfection that is Luz Mendez so I guess you’ll just have to read it yourself.

---

I’m not sure why it took me so long to start reading Mother of the Year (MOTY), but I’m so glad I did. In 3 days flat I binged the entire book, wasted so many accumulated diamonds, and had the time of my life. The cast of characters in MOTY is perfect and I wanted to rank them according to my opinion on which ones were the best. I ranked all of the characters I found to be profound enough to matter to the storyline or that MC or “Daughter” had enough interactions with to matter. As a result, there are several characters who didn’t make this list.

Sound off below if you wish.

#choices spoilers #choices mother of the year #moty #choices moty #mother of the year #luz mendez #thomas mendez #levi schuler #eiko matsunaga #alma velasco #guy ledford #faye devore #vanessa blackwood #mother of the year spoilers #moty spoilers #spoilers

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eveenstar · 4 years

Text

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒲𝒶𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝒯𝒾𝓂𝑒

𝙰 𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚁𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝟸 𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙸𝙸

Summary: In 2031, a journal is found. It tells the story of a woman named Y/N L/N, who claims to be a time traveler from 2021. This is the story of her life.

Tags/Warnings: Nothing to add yet.

Note: Also, this is a Javier Escuella x reader. The reader is also female, sorry!

“What the hell?”

“Is she alright?”

“Don't just stand there, help the poor girl!”

I remember waking up on a bed, not soft at all, reminded me of a rock.

The rays of the sun made the girl groan and sit on the bed. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around and noticed the strange ambient she was in. A few people walking around, yet none of them noticed she was awake. The woman got up slowly, swaying on her feet, and took slow steps towards her bag left on the ground, until a small voice startled her.

“Mama, the weird lady is up!”

“Already?”

(Y/N) sighed, her head up, and watching as all the eyes were on her. Her mind was still processing the information from the past hours, time-traveling. Right, right, she knew what to do. At least, what she was supposed to do. Her body felt different, probably still adjusting to going through a portal, her mouth was dry and she could still taste a bit of dirt on her lips from the fall.

“Hey, lady, you good?” A silvery voice ringed, waking (Y/N) from her thoughts. Looking at the group of people surrounding her. The man wearing a sombrero got closer to her with a cautious look on his face. The girl didn’t answer, the shock beginning to take over her body. Only know did the poor girl realized what she had done.

“Javier, be careful. She could be…dangerous.” Another voice coming from behind him said.

Dangerous? Well, she kinda is, right? Being a skilled hacker and knowing her way on a gun, but that probably wouldn’t serve much in this era. The hacker part, at least. (Y/N) focused on the loud voices coming near them, they were arguing, and probably about her too.

“Why are we keeping her alive, Dutch? The woman came through that shiny golden circle on the sky and you decide to keep her here?” A blond man waved his arm towards her angrily. (Y/N) recognized him from the old picture the other woman had shown to her; Micah Bell.

“We can’t just kill her, Micah. We need to hear her first.” The other man, Dutch van der Linde, or the dude with fancy clothes, replied. Seemingly annoyed by Micah.

“We have far too many mouths to feed already. We can’t have another one.” A feminine harsh voice announced. “Who comes through something like that in the middle of nowhere? In our camp? She’s dangerous.”

The woman let out a heavy and annoyed sigh. Crossing her arms and looking to the gang, with her brows furrowed. She wouldn’t let them talk like that about her like she wasn’t there. Everyone quickly looked at her.

“If you let me explain myself first before any of you open your mouths.” (Y/N) could see the surprised look on a few faces, but an angry one on the others. Maybe having an attitude wouldn’t do her any good here, probably should get rid of that before causing any problems amongst the gang. After all, she needed to gain their trust.

“I’m sorry, Miss…?”

“(L/N).”

“I’m sorry, Miss (L/N), they can be quite suspicious about strange folks. Of course, we’ll let you explain yourself after…that.” Dutch spoke softly with an educated tune, being the calmest and reasonable of them all. The girl took a few steps back, stumbling on her words a few times, even mumbling in Italian. Everyone’s eyes were on her like hawks, most of them curious but suspicious. It wasn’t hard to understand them, a random woman popping out of a hole on the sky dressed weirdly would any person be suspicious and probably very shocked.

(Y/N) was taking too long. Hearing a click of the tongue made her straighten up and fixing her eyes on the wanted gang.

“Well, err, I am…from the future-“

“The future?! I can’t listen to that bullshit!” Micah replied almost immediately.

“Shut the fuck up I’m talking!” The sudden shout made their eyes widen a bit, but she could still hear a few mumbled laughs on the background. “As I was saying, I came from the future. I’m from 2021. Someone sent me here to…help you all before a big tragedy takes place.”

After seconds of shocked nonbelieving silence, a few loud voices were heard around. Mostly because they didn’t believe one single word she’d just said, others were questioning why Dutch decided to let her live and how they should just throw her on the river. But, one of the girls slowly approached her, more calmly.

“Why you?” The young brown-hair freckled woman asked, one of her brows up in a questioning way. She sounded so gentle when she spoke.

I adored Mary-Beth. I think she was the kindest and most gentle member of the Van der Linde gang.

“Oh. Well, you see….” (Y/N) gazed hesitantly to Dutch for the first time. He was watching her with his arms crossed, with a heavy brooding expression and eyes narrowed. The leader was wearing a black and red vest with a blue and white pinstripe shirt, with gold chains on his vest, with a smart black jacket and a black hat. He was taller than her and stronger; with a thick, black mustache and soul patch under his lips, he also has dark black, slick backed hair that curls at the end. Taking a mental note on his appearance, he seemed far more intimidating in real life.

I recall thinking “Damn, is that my great-grandpa? He’s hot.”. But in a serious note, he seemed to be so cold-hearted but at the same time, kind and trustworthy. He did look like a gentleman. He was an outlaw, and well, I guess it does run on the family.

What was she doing? Why did she take the stupid decision on going back to the past just because someone didn’t like how this gang’s fate ended? Many, many lives didn’t have a happy ending too. So why change only theirs? (Y/N) was already regretting the foolish decision she took, but hey, she still had that block thing to go back. Nothing was lost yet, she just had to justify herself and get the hell out of there before they decide to kill her or worse.

Hearing a forced cough woke the girl from her thoughts. Feeling embarrassed when she noticed she had been staring at him this whole time. Good, just wonderful.

“I’m Dutch’s…great-granddaughter.” The words merely escape her lips and heavens, how she felt like throwing herself out of a cliff after it. A burst of loud laughter was heard, coming from some of the men. A great joke, yes, that’s what this was. They didn’t believe her, not without proof, and she couldn’t honestly blame them.

“You can’t possibly believe this crazy woman’s words, Dutch. C’mon.”

“Miss, please elaborate on that.”

“Dutch? C’mon boss, she hit her head when she fell!” Micah shouted, not very happy with the leader deciding to hear her story before making any judgment. (Y/N) was glad for it, who knows what would happen if he decided to listen to that idiot.

She grabbed her bag and started to look for her phone, it probably wouldn’t work much there but if time traveling is a thing, maybe ghost WiFi was too. Who knows. Probably asking for too much there. (Y/N) took a few steps closer and turned it on, showing them the colorful wallpaper and the date, “2021”, proceeding to shows some pictures of streets and buildings she had on her gallery. It seemed to have worked, has everyone had a terrified look on their faces. Most of them were still a bit hesitant, and probably scared of the unknown.

The girl turned to the leader, she didn’t have any proof about being his great-granddaughter. Wait, she didn’t ask for it too. Damn it, did she just get fooled by that woman?

“I don’t have any proof, sir, but that woman told me I was…your granddaughter and needed me to save you all.” Before he replied, she added. “She did mention a one night woman you were with.”

“If what you’re telling us is the truth,” He began, slowly. Still watching her closely. “I guess you’ll have to stay with us.”

Giving the man a slight smile, the girl nodded. She heard a few angrily mumbles coming from behind them, some of the gang’s members weren’t very happy with that sudden decision. With a gentle pat on her shoulder, Dutch made his way to the middle of the camp and looked at everyone, rubbing his hands together with a serious, yet sympathetic expression.

“Family, Miss (L/N) will stay with us for the time being. I don’t want any complaints about this, she showed us proof of her story and if she’s here to help us, we should give her a home.” Nobody spoke, just silence. Maybe they didn’t want to oppose their leader. “Miss Grimshaw, please help Miss (Y/N) prepare a tent and show her around.”

The older woman nodded, looking at Dutch and then glaring suspiciously at (Y/N).

“Miss (Y/N), I would like to speak with you…privately.” Feeling a sudden jump of beat on her chest, the girl nodded. The serious tune on his voice addressing to her caught her by surprise, she didn’t like that tune coming from adults. Perhaps because every time that happened, they would blame her for something afterward and treat her like a child.

“Don’t worry, he just wants to talk to you about that great-granddaughter thing, ya know,” Mary-Beth said, giving (Y/N) a warm smile. “I’ll catch you later, ‘kay? Someone has to show you around and meet the other folks.”

“Thanks…?” The girl tilted her head a bit. That’s right, they didn’t present themselves yet.

“Mary-Beth. You?” The young woman replied. Her name fit her perfectly, she looked like the main character of a romance novel.

“(Y/N).”

“Oh, well, nice to meet you, (Y/N). It’s better if you go now, don’t wanna keep Dutch waitin’.” Mary said, already making her way to another tent. (Y/N) nodded in agreement, putting her brave face and walking confidently to Dutch’s tent. Alright, probably not that confident, but she couldn’t let the others think she’s weak or scared now. She had a role to keep! The thought about going back to 2021 was already in the back of her mind and probably would stay there for a very long time.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #rdr2 fanfic #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde #javier escuella #javier escuella x reader

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