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five-rivers · 3 years

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Orb/Reanimation

Another part of Doorways! Link to series here.

“What’s his name again?” asked Danny, picking at the hem of his shirt. Today had been… stressful, for a number of reasons. Partially the long drive and the disastrous breakfast stop, but also the fact that they were driving to meet a guy who was possibly:

a) Vlad Masters version 2.

b) A horrible hole in reality that would try to kill him.

c) Possessed, like the Keens.

d) Using ghost stuff without knowing it was ghost stuff.

e) Messing around with ghost stuff while knowing it was ghost stuff, but without any of the skill to keep it from messing him up in turn.

f) Crazy in some wonderful, unforeseen way.

Or, finally,

g) Mom and Dad’s one and only normal friend.

Danny really wasn’t holding for the last one, if he was being honest. After all, unlike Marianne, this guy had been part of the Paranormal Research Club.

Okay, maybe there were other, positive, options. It was completely possible for someone to be weird or crazy and not be evil or even particularly threatening. Most ghosts were like that, in fact.

Still.

“Frank Stone,” said Dad, cheerfully.

“If he turns out to be a Dr. Frankenstein type, I quit,” groaned Jazz. “Just so you know.”

“You won’t quit,” said Danny, with complete confidence.

“He is a doctor,” said Mom. “He was studying biology when we met him, for his undergraduate degree.”

“I quit; I’m telling you.”

“If you were really quitting,” reasoned Danny, “you’d just open the door and jump out.” He was pleased that Jazz was taking her turn as the resident overdramatic teenager. She carried that burden only rarely, but it did seem like long trips in the GAV really brought it out.

Maybe they made her remember the whole Youngblood thing. Who knew? Not Danny.

“I’m not going to jump out of a moving vehicle. That’s more of a ‘you’ thing.”

“I can’t really dispute that,” said Danny, remembering all the times he had, in fact, jumped out of a moving vehicle. “In my defense, I can fly.”

“Why you can fly completely negates that as a defense.”

Danny held up a finger. “Okay, so, first off, reality is not a moving vehicle.”

“Anything can be a moving vehicle, depending on your reference frame.”

“I agree on the moving part, but I dispute the vehicle part. Vehicle comes from the Latin vehiculum, which is ‘a means of conveyance.’ Reality is not a means of conveyance. Ergo, it cannot be a vehicle.”

“Not so fast, brother dear. Words change meaning over time.”

“Yeah, but that’s still what vehicle means,” said Danny. “Unless you’re doing the medicine definition, anyway. I think.”

“Reality is a metaphorical vehicle.”

“Well, if it’s metaphorical, it doesn’t matter whether or not it’s moving. Does it?”

“I’m… not sure.”

“I think this is the place!” exclaimed Dad, pulling into a parking lot. “Golding City University Medical Research Lab.”

“He doesn’t live here,” said Danny, slowly, “does he?” They weren’t ambushing this guy at work, were they? Even if he did turn out to be just as bad as all of Mom and Dad’s other friends, that was kind of mean.

(Except, the Keens had been acceptable, once they were no longer possessed, and even the ghost possessing them hadn’t been too terrible.)

“He’s in the building behind the lab,” said Mom. “They let the teachers live on-campus, here. He’s expecting us, anyway.”

Right. Because they had called ahead, giving warning to their potential enemy. Curse you, common courtesy and sundry social conventions.

Jazz was glaring at the small name sign on the building, which was just barely visible through the rain. “Golding City University,” she said, eyes narrowed.

“Uh, is something wrong?”

“Frankenstein,” she said.

“Um,” said Danny. He looked more closely at the name. “Golding City. Ingolstadt.” Oh, no. Now he was glaring at the name, too. Because Jazz was right, and it would be his luck. Their parents’ luck. Whatever.

“Do you feel anything?” asked Dad.

“No,” said Danny.

“Well,” said Mom. “We’ll have to run a bit, try to stay out of the rain. It’s too bad there isn’t a closer parking lot…”

“I could also just make us all intangible,” said Danny.

“What?”

“I could make us all intangible. I do it all the time to miss the rain when no one is looking too closely.”

“Huh,” said Mom.

“It isn’t as if my powers disappear when I’m not fighting ghosts,” said Danny. “I get to use them for other things.”

“I know, I know, it just seems… petty.”

“Petty is one of the best words to describe ghosts with,” said Danny.

Frank Stone did not look like a Frankenstein. Not the monster, and not the ‘doctor.’

(Because Victor Frankenstein had not, in fact, become a doctor, had he?)

He was actually pretty average looking. The same age as Mom and Dad, of course. Brown hair. Glasses. Skinny, but not that skinny. Could Dr. Stone rob a grave? Probably. But carrying the loot away without some mechanical advantage was probably out. Unless it was old loot. Dried out. Maybe just bones.

Corpses were heavy.

(No, Danny was not going to elaborate.)

Dr. Stone appeared to be somewhat confused about why Danny and Jazz were there. Evidently, Mom and Dad had managed to give the man the impression that they wanted to fund his research with the fortune they had inherited from Vlad.

Which, incidentally, had been inherited by Danny, who couldn’t really do much with it until he was twenty-five. Not that he was particularly keen on funding… Whatever it was that Dr. Stone was researching.

Maybe that would be different if he could tell what Dr. Stone was talking about. Danny wasn’t stupid, far from it, and had a good background in any number of esoteric subjects, but, well. It was hard to rival an adult lifetime of learning and research. Especially when he didn’t have any context.

Mom and Dad’s briefing on Dr. Stone had generally focused on what he had been interested in as a member of the Paranormal Research Club, not his true field of study.

“Oh,” said Mom, suddenly, “this is about your organ transplant project, isn’t it? You really need to provide more context. When you just jump right in like that, even we’ll get lost!”

Okay. Danny felt better.

“Well, yes,” said Dr. Stone. “I have been working on this off and on since college, you know how it is. I know you kept up with that portal business!” He flashed a nervous smile and set his coffee mug down on his coffee table. It made a soft chinking sound against the glass. “But the university gave me a grant, Vladco’s been donating some supplies—From their chemical division, mostly—and I’ve been having a lot of success! I can’t wait to show you. We’ve actually got a few specimens in near-stasis right now, all from mice. We’re going to be implanting one tomorrow. See how it functions.”

“Have you implanted any before?” asked Mom, leaning forward.

“A few, but, well. I can’t say they were resounding successes. The most recent subject only lasted a few days… Although, that is better than the first! We’ve been adjusting some of our ratios.”

“Say, Frank,” said Dad. “What chemicals are you using for this, anyway? I know you’re using them in conjunction with low temperatures, but keeping crystals from forming in the flesh—”

“Yes, yes, that’s always been the problem with cryogenics,” agreed Dr. Stone. Then they dove back into jargon and technical language.

Danny glanced sideways at Jazz, uneasy. Chemicals. From Vladco. Yeah. Not suspicious at all.

He leaned over. “Ten dollars says that he’s using ectoplasm to reanimate dead bodies.”

“I’m not taking that bet. Do you feel anything weird from him?” Jazz whispered back.

“Weird, yes, but…” Danny bit his lip. “I’m not sensing any… doors. Or ghosts.”

“Okay,” said Jazz. “So, when we do find his mad science lab full of dead body parts, what do we do?”

“Well… Nothing? As long as they’re legal dead body parts, I guess. You know, from organ donors, or people who donated their bodies to science. I mean…” He shrugged. “You’ve read Frankenstein, too. And met Ellie.”

“Hm. True,” said Jazz. “I have to check my biases. I’m still quitting, though. As soon as we find his Frankenstein stuff. Just so you know.”

“No, you aren’t.”

Jazz just sighed.

Danny walks silently through the halls of the research facility. True, Dr. Stone was planning on giving his family a tour of his workspace first thing tomorrow and had implied that other researchers would be doing the same, but Danny believed in being prepared.

Well. Sometimes. He was allowed to be inconsistent and contradictory. Like any teen, he was still learning how to exist.

Maybe he should stop comparing himself to ‘any teen,’ though. It was beginning to feel dishonest, even in his own head. Even though, technically, it was true.

Anyway.

This place was kind of creepy. At least, he presumed a normal person would find it creepy. Too bad he didn’t know any normal people. Sam would think it was cool. Tucker would be freaking out because it was a medical research lab. Ancients, Danny was as bad as his parents.

It did have a number of features that one would typically only find on the set of a horror movie, however, so he felt fairly confident in his assessment of its creepiness. Also, he had encountered at least five different crimes against nature and sanity (it took one to know one), and he hadn’t even gotten to Dr. Stone’s lab yet.

He was impressed. He hadn’t expected such a high concentration outside of Amity Park or Vlad’s hideouts.

At the thought of Vlad, Danny drooped. Yeah. He still wasn’t over the stupid fruitloop. Still hated the fact that he had died.

Back to the crimes against nature. Ectoplasm was definitely a component, if a small one. Hard to get things to glow that precise, reality bending shade of green otherwise. Also, well. Danny can sense ectoplasm.

And… Now he was in a room of jars full of diluted ectoplasm and… He sniffed. Formaldehyde? He frowned and decided the number, size, and arrangement of jars was suspicious. He walked around the table. Yep. That was in the outline of a human body. Yep.

Honestly, this wasn’t any more alarming than the living mice impaled with various glowing needles, or the disturbingly brown heart beating in a fish tank a few rooms back. It was, also, significantly less alarming than the prosthetic face (mainly because, dang, that thing looked realistic), the (fresh) skeleton someone had been injecting ectoplasm into (yikes), and the weird flesh… blob… thing that someone had just left out in their workspace.

Still. This was another point for the ‘someone is building a Frankenstein’s monster in this building’ theory, and Danny had kind of been hoping that he was wrong.

He walked out of the room, on alert for random murderous corpse monsters (or sad corpse monsters that needed a shoulder to cry on, a restraining order against their creators, and a loving home). Or mad scientists. Because, at this point, he was fairly certain that everyone who worked here was crazy, and not necessarily in the fun way Mom and Dad were.

He was glad they had decided to sleep in the GAV and ignore Dr. Stone’s invitation to stay in his apartment.

Dr. Stone’s office was just next door. His lab, just beyond that. Danny approached cautiously, his ghost half on high alert, and his deeper self stirring uneasily.

He laid a hand flat against the door, and that stirring became wakefulness.

Crimes against nature. Hubris. Pride.

Superbia. It had to be.

A hole. A wound.

Well. This was fast. Even with the Keens’ list of Paranormal Research Club members they had encountered while possessed, Danny hadn’t expected to find another thing like Gula so quickly.

He hadn’t wanted to. Despite his outward pessimism, he had hoped that there weren’t any more.

After several frozen moments where Danny braced himself for an attack, he realized one wasn’t forthcoming. The tear beyond the door had not noticed him, was not trying to consume him.

So, he had a choice. He could either try to deal with this alone, right now, or he could sneak away and tell his family what he had found. Both choices had pros and cons.

Before even a second had passed, Danny was easing away from the door. He hadn’t quite promised to share if he felt anything strange, if he had detected anything bad, but… It was a near thing, and he didn’t want to be dishonest with his family after they had been so accepting of all his… Stuff.

Yeah. Call it stuff. Nice and generic. Covers everything.

Plus, his encounter with Gula had confirmed that he needed backup.

He refrained from calling on his powers on the way out. He didn’t want to draw attention. The limits of the doors to the place which should not be mentioned were largely unknown to him.

Luckily, the doors weren’t alarmed, and he got back to the GAV without a problem. He poked Jazz awake first.

“Hey,” he said, “we’ve got a problem.”

“This portal is just… Sitting there,” said Mom.

“Yep.”

“In Frank’s office.”

“Well, I think it might actually be in the lab, but yes. It’s kind of freaking me out.”

“Is Frank sleeping in his lab?” asked Dad, stroking the stubble on his chin.

“No, I checked that before I went in,” said Danny. “He’s in his apartment.”

“You just… broke into his apartment?” asked Mom.

Danny shrugged. “I didn’t break anything,” he said. “But, I mean, what else was I supposed to do?”

For a moment, it looked like Mom was about to argue or scold him, but she shook her head. “Alright, then someone else is in his office.”

“Maybe. I’m not sure if these portals need a person attached or not. Using person in the very loosest of senses, because…” He made a gesture he hoped would be interpreted as a soul being forcibly removed from a body without killing the body.

“You don’t think it’s in the, um,” Jazz also made a vague gesture.

“You mean the hypothetical Frankenstein’s monster he’s made? Yeah. I think that’s likely. Also, judging from the sheer amount of, um, weird stuff in the other labs, I’d say it’s influencing everyone and everything around it, too.”

“Is that a thing it can do?” asked Mom.

“I mean, I can do that,” said Danny. He paused. “’I’ in this case being the portal. Yeah. That’s why Amity Park is so… Amity Park.”

Mom breathed out, slowly. “Sweetie, trust me on this, Amity Park was strange long before we made the portal.

“Well, yes?” said Danny, not seeing what that had to do with it. “So?”

“So, that strangeness couldn’t be caused by the portal.”

“Mom. I’m—It’s a hole in reality. Do you think it’s going to obey the laws of cause and effect? You went to Amity Park because it was already a ‘thin spot,’ right? I was already there.”

Mom looked vaguely ill.

“Okay,” said Jazz. “Let’s table that discussion for right now. What are we going to do about this? Break in? Wait for our ‘tour’ tomorrow?”

“I don’t like the idea of waiting for Dr. Stone to give us a tour,” said Danny. “I don’t want to give them time to prepare for us.”

“He doesn’t know what we’re here for, though,” said Dad. “Does he?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny. “I can’t read minds.”

“Yet,” added Jazz.

“Do you think he even knows about the…” It was Mom’s turn to enter the gesturing game.

“Let’s just call it a hell portal for the sake of communication,” said Danny, despite the fact that the term did not do the actuality justice. “Or Superbia for this particular one. I think this must be Superbia, anyway.” He didn’t want to imagine the possibility of even more of these things out there.

“I’m not sure how he couldn’t notice that something strange was going on,” said Dad. “Even if he was using ectoplasm and other supernatural elements in his research, we gave him a good grounding in what to expect from ectoplasm in college.”

“Yeah,” said Jazz. “But not everyone is like you and Mom. Your college days were over two decades ago.”

Something moving in the dark and rain beyond the GAV windows, catching Danny’s eye. He pushed past his family to get a better look, blinking to adjust his eyes.

“Heck,” he said. “We have a mob.”

“What?” exclaimed Dad, rushing to the console to turn on the GAV’s exterior floodlights.

They illuminated Dr. Stone and a crowd of college and graduate students quite nicely. Their eyes reflected a dim red. The GAV was, as far as Danny could see, surrounded.

Very briefly, the thought of gunning the GAV and crashing through the crowd crossed his mind. It was just as quickly dismissed.

He didn’t know what the line between influenced and mind controlled was, or how easily Superbia could cross it. It was even possible that the ‘hell portal’ could vault over both of those and land directly in possession.

“Ghost shield?” suggested Danny.

“Will it do anything?” asked Mom.

“Won’t hurt,” said Danny with a shrug.

Mom flipped the switch.

“What are we going to do?” asked Jazz, softly. “Wait them out?”

“Realistically,” said Danny, “we don’t have enough food and water to do that. With this many people, they could take turns watching us.”

“Call the police?” suggested Maddie. The other three turned to look at her. “They are still human, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, frowning. “But I don’t know how much, um, agency they have right now. If we were in Amity, I’d say sure, our police understand, mostly, but… Also, bringing extra hostages into this might not be a good idea.”

“If it’s the campus police that would get called, they might be affected, too,” said Jazz.

“They have campus police? How do you know?”

“This college sent me a brochure once.”

“Right. Um. I could always just fly us out of here,” said Danny.

“Assuming they don’t have ranged attacks,” said Mom, dubiously.

“Hm. Yeah. I think I could lift the GAV, and then we could just leave the shield on.”

“Assuming the shield does anything.”

Danny shrugged. “I can always just try to fight them outright. I’d prefer not to do that, though.”

Mom inhaled as if she were about to say something but was cut off by a loud noise from outside.

“Jack~ Maddie~ I know you’re in there.” That was Dr. Stone’s voice, warped by a megaphone speaker. “Why don’t you come out and see what I’ve done? I dare say I’ve exceeded even our wildest dreams from college.” A long pause. “I even made a portal… Weren’t you trying to get one of those? Isn’t that what got good old Vlad hospitalized?” There was laughter. Too much laughter.

The mob was laughing, too.

Superbia. Pride.

Danny knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to walk out and deal with the threat that was grating on his every sense. But… He knew that prideful actions were contraindicated under the present circumstances.

Influence. Right. How much could Danny be influenced?

How much could his family be influenced?

He looked up at his parents, seeking guidance. They seemed uncertain, too.

“I didn’t destroy any lives- I made new life. New life! Powered by an interdimensional portal, oh, yes… Can you imagine the application? Can you imagine a new world?”

“Okay, he didn’t seem like this in the apartment,” muttered Jazz. “We have human nonlethal weapons, right?”

“Still have to worry about running people over,” said Danny. He looked back at the lab building. “We could try to cut this off at the source. They aren’t protecting the building. They’re using it as part of their perimeter.”

Eyes turned to the dimly lit building.

“We can cover you,” offered Dad.

“I don’t like this any better than you flying off with us,” said Mom. “But… It offers a more permanent solution.”

Danny should have gone after it when he was in the building the first time. Well. Time only rewound for one ghost, and that ghost wasn’t him.

Unless he counted… Never mind. The point was, despite all his other wonderful and troubling features, Danny couldn’t go back and change a decision he’d already made. Agonizing over it was a waste of time and brain power.

Dad got behind the wheel. Jazz crawled up into the well-disguised turret. Maddie manned the other weapons.

Danny stood at the door, ready to run, ready to transform as soon as he was through the shield.

Family bonding activities. So much fun.

The mob attacked before he got the door open. He still made it to the building.

Danny didn’t bother with doors or windows or halls. He remembered what floor Dr. Stone’s office was on, and, now that he was sensitized to it, he could feel Superbia. He went through the walls, straight as an arrow.

(He wondered, briefly, if he was being as bigoted as he’d often felt his parents to be. If he was ascribing more evil to the portals to the Red Country than was warranted. If he was simply holding up a dark mirror and seeing what he feared from himself.)

(But no. He did not command like that. He did not force his people to assemble armies in the night or attack people. He kept them safe. He had rules.)

The lab was awash in sick red not-light that burned in Danny’s mind. It was barely physically perceptible, more present in senses that couldn’t translate to human terms than anything to do with Danny’s eyes, ghostly or not.

In the center of the lab, on an operation table, was a stitched-together corpse. Perhaps, under other circumstances, it would have been a very pretty corpse. A young woman with long dark hair and broad shoulders.

Its chest had been torn open. Half-in half-out of the cavity was a red orb, the source of the not-light, like some sick imitation of a ghost core.

(It reminded Danny of Freakshow’s staff, and he realized that he never did find out where that horrid thing had come from.)

They had been trying to make something like Danny.

He felt like he had eaten those blood blossom pancakes.

Danny gritted his teeth and let his light, white-green and clear, fill his hands. Ectoplasm fought against the miasma in the air, an oddly purifying presence. It wasn’t enough to chase away the wrongness. This wasn’t his space.

The fight against Gula was different. Both he and it had been within nominally living bodies. They had been next to the heart of Danny’s territory, his home ground. Danny had been tricked and trapped, taken off guard, unable to use the tricks he had grown used to while fighting ghosts and Vlad.

(He could feel Superbia in his mind, pride urging him forward towards error. Pride in his abilities, in his mind, in his family.)

Danny drifted sideways, watching. Listening. Other things in the building were stirring. Sparks of wrongness growing and twisting, warping into fountains and springs. This whole building was full of it. Rotten to the bones. It pressed against his teeth.

Careful.

He had to be careful.

The orb shone.

(Too much like Freakshow’s staff.)

(Influence, Danny remembered. Just how close was it to mind control?)

Doing this as a human was impossible. Trying to fight that as a ghost was unwise.

The always-open always-closed door that both contained and laid within Danny’s soul shifted. So did the corpse on the table, its constituent parts sliding over each other gruesomely. Death had lost its hold, lost its meaning. The ghost that was Danny twisted, and he was too human, too alive.

Special little thing. You think you can defeat us.

He could. He could open himself and wash all this away in an instant. He could burn with electric fire and the cold of deep space. He could reach out. The orb would be as dust under his hand.

He didn’t move.

In thinking you become…

Un-light burned up from the grooves in the tile floor. It didn’t reach the soles of his boots, didn’t reach his soul. He gritted his teeth.

US.

YOUR VICTORY IS OURS.

“Wow, you picked the wrong person to use that strategy on,” said Danny, out loud. Internally, he pulled on the delicate and frayed strands of reality that persisted even here. “I have so much imposter syndrome and anxiety that it isn’t even funny. I know I can’t beat you. Not here.”

But then, he didn’t have to.

He found the right string and pulled. He found the key and opened the door. Death was in the room again. Danny could move again. Not so much the pile of flesh in front of him. It was hard, it hurt, to keep hold of something like this, but half of Danny was this, was dead, even if he had far too many halves to ever be whole.

Ice coated the floor, the tiles cracking under the sudden temperature change. He dropped to the floor and was human.

An impossible thing.

And behind the human—

Well. Danny didn’t have to defeat Superbia. It wasn’t like Gula, didn’t have that strength, that experience. He just had to make it so the things that would, could.

(Danny had rules. Some of them were to protect himself.)

He walked over to the orb. Ultimately, it was just a representation, not Superbia itself. Still. He put his foot down on it and slowly transferred his weight to it until it cracked. Until it splintered. Until it shattered. Until he ground its dust under his heel.

Then, the building collapsed. Danny didn’t move, didn’t have to move. He was a ghost again, floating in the air, exactly where he had been, all the floors having passed harmlessly through him.

Outside, the faculty and student body of the college were sprawled in piles on the ground. The GAV was, somehow, halfway up a tree. A shockingly sturdy tree. Several statues were in pieces.

The sun was coming up.

Danny put a hand to his chest and assessed himself. Yes. Still here. Still himself. The Ghost Zone still sang in his bones, in his core. He was still anchored in Amity Park. Everything in order.

This place, though… This place would be tainted for years, a thin spot forever. He could feel it, now. Why couldn’t he feel it before, when they drove in?

He shuddered. Then he flew down to the GAV and knocked on the window. Mom rolled it down.

“Want me to fly us away to somewhere secluded before the cops get called and we get asked a bunch of awkward questions?” he asked.

Mom closed her eyes. “Please do,” she said.

#danny phantom #ectober #ectober week #ectober week 2020 #ectober 2020

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omiscurls · 3 years

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night sky - atsumu miya x reader

the volleyball player you're gonna be falling for today: miya atsumu

word count: 3900

summary quote: "See, Angel Eyes, there are some things that cannot be whispered, some feelings too strong to be degraded to the level of being silent."

and lets go!

***

"You were very endearing while you were half asleep, you know that?" he laughed, touching your nose with the tip of his cold finger. Your body shook, freezing a bit when the train door opened, and the icey night air flooded the inside. The girls' school uniform, mostly the skirt, surely wasn't designed for such weather conditions as the november nights provided.

"What time is it?" you just asked, still sleepy from the nap you took on his shoulder.

"Six thirty" he laughed quietly, putting you head back where it was previously resting. You didn't mind at all, after all, he was comfortable. "We're getting off in eight minutes, so try not to sleep" You nodded slightly, watching the city landscape change in a matter of seconds just outside the dirty window in front of you. The raindrops were creating lively patterns on the glass, changing every now and then due to the blowing wind. Kobee's lights were already on, because, as it was november, six thirty was already a mid-night hour. You looked around the smelly train, noticing only few people left, as the route was already coming towards it's last stop. You noticed two people you knew from school, going home as well, altough it seemed they were not riding together, as they both listened to music with headphones in.

You growled, pouting, when it was finally time to leave the warm train and walk four blocks home. At least you got your boyfriend with you, because walking alone in such darkness would definitely scare you, though you would never say that to his face, no, that would boost his ego too much. You smiled unconsciously as he took your hand into his, as if he was worried you'll get lost.

You followed him out of the train and into the station. You lowkey enjoyed the blue light of the the screens, showing which train will arrive next, the people rushing in every possible direction, as Kobee was a huge city, some of them waiting with their suitcases, coffee mugs in their hands, and some just going home with their backpacks, talking on the phone or listening to music. The shops on the main station were already closing down, but you two managed to get to McDonald's and order large fries, which Miya payed for, then insisting for you to eat them, because "he's suddenly not hungry anymore".

It stopped raining, when you finally got out of the train station, and walked into the cold night. He took your hand once more when you finished the fries.

"Ew, yer fingers are all greasy. Omi-kun would've freaked." he joked, glancing at you. You turned red, snapping away from his grip.

"Don't hold them, then, dumbass" you adjusted the scarf on your neck so it covered your cheeks. Like a stubborn kid, he got the hand out of your pocket and intertwined your fingers once more.

"Nah, you're gonna get cold if I don't, and we can't have that, can we, Angel Eyes?" you blushed once more at the nickname, facing away from him, so he doesn't get to satisfied with the impression he caused. All of the sudden he appeared in front of you, smiling widely.

"What's that, Angel Eyes, does the new nickname fluster ya in some kind of way?" You looked at him with pure irritation in your eyes, as he pulled you into a slight hug. "Hey, yer shoulders are shaking, are you cold?" suddenly he didn't sound like a douchebag, but concern took the place of confidence. You stayed silent, really hating to agree, but before you could disagree, he took of his jacket and put it on your shoulders. "Wait" he added, realizing one mistake, he made and took the jacket back for a second, grabbing your schoolbag and piled the strap on the one of his bag, resting it on his arm.

"That's heavy, give it back" you said, trying to reach for his shoulder, as he was way taller.

"Hell no, what sorta boyfriend would that make me?" he grinned, catching your wrist as you were halfway through to reaching your bag, already standing on your toes. "Aaand another point for Miya for blocking that!" he yelled, immitating the TV sport's commentator.

"You're not a blocker, though" you giggled, getting back to a comfortable, standing position.

"Aww, my Angel Eyes remembers what possition I play in? Well don't you deserve the best girlfriend award"

"Only because you never shut up about being the prettiest setter in Japan. And even that opinion is biased" he gasped dramatically, putting a hand over his forehead, as if he were about to faint.

"Well excuse me, I have to win a bet with an old friend of mine from a little village next to Tokyo. AND YOU COULD SUPPORT ME IN DOING SO, YOU KNOW" he pouted way too loud. You just rolled your eyes.

"And hey, I know you always watch me from the first row, I have eyes."

"I watch Osamu"

"Now THAT hurted" he looked at you with theatrical heartbreak in his sight. "You know what, you're walking alone for that" he added, leaving you there, next to the station, disappearing into the night. You laughed, at first, knowing that he still has your bag and has to come back, but then you shivered, feeling the cold wind against your bare skin, and remembered that he wanted to give you his jacket. You knew he was probably around the corner, waiting to scare you as you were walking around in search for him, so you decided to look.

But the longer you kept going back and forth around the fifteen metre distance he could possibly walk, there was no sight of him anywhere.

"Cool, Miya, now would you please get out? Or else I'm walking home!" you shouted, hoping that would get him to come out of his hiding spot, but you received no response. You held your arms against your chest to keep warm.

You heard footsteps behind you, and turned around, relieved, actually, that he'd came back.

"Finally, you dumba-" you didn't finish your sentence, noticing the person behind you wasn't Atsumu.

"What're you doing out here, freezing alone?" you heard the boy in front of you ask, but you were too distracted by his sudden appearance to respond.

You knew that boy, you knew him damn well, he was one of your closest friends, growing up, but then moved, because his father worked for the army and have to reposition every few years.

"Sato-kun? What're you doing here?" you asked in shock, looking at the boy you had seen for the last time around 4 years before, now standing in front of you, all grown up, so much, in fact, that you barely recognized him.

"Hello to you too, honey" he smiled, hugging you. You felt slightly uncomfortable, not liking to be touched by strangers, but then you remembered he wasn't a stranger. He was a guy that knew you to the bone since diapers.

But also the guy who then promised to keep in touch and disappeared from your life completely.

"Now would you mind explaining what're you doing here alone?"

"Oh, uhm, I am actually not-" you tried to explain, tilting your head around, searching for that idiot, Atsumu, but again, he was nowhere to be found.

"You do seem alone, though. Who would leave you here?" he said with a polite smile, but even so started to get on your nerves. You were not some pretty doll to be LEFT somewhere, what if you were just waiting for someone to show up?

"Well, it's a long story" you replied, but he insisted on keeping the conversation going.

"Mind telling me over a walk home? I do know where you live, obviously." You were still in too much shock to turn him down, mixed feelings flowing in and out of your head.

"Sato-kun, I am really interested in knowing your side of how the last 4 years have passed, but I am really with somebody right now" you answered, but noticed something else got his attention, like he was looking just above your shoulder.

You suddenly felt arms tie around your neck in an embrace, and felt someone bending over to match your level. The cologne you smelled was so iconic you'd recognize it from a mile away.

That idiot finally came back.

"Hi there, buddy!" he smiled politely, resting his chin on your shoulder. Considering the height difference, that must've been really uncomfortable, but what wouldn't Atsumu Miya do for a good first impression.

"Hi!" Sato responded, also smiling, but now less vividly than he did a while ago. "Who're you to lean over her like that?" he added, and the sound of possesiveness in his voice freaked you out. He wasn't in a position to say that, he left you here for four whole years.

"Oh I?" you boyfriend broke the embrace in order to straighten up and walk over to your childhood friend. It was safe to say he was at least fifteen centimetres taller. "Miya Atsumu" he said with such fake sweetness in his voice, that you couldn't help but smile a bit. "And do you mind explaining who you're to tell me I can't hug my girlfriend?" he scratched the back of his head, smiling from ear to ear, looking absolutely adorable, except from the fact that you and Sato were both scared to death. The taller boy reached out to Sato, wanting to shake his hand.

"Miya? Are you the spiker or the setter?" he asked, gripping Miya's hand. "See my brother plays volleyball and I think they've played against you on-"

Atsumu didn't let him finish. First he turned his head back to look at you with a pitiful expression in his eyes, then back to the boy.

"Did he now? I think I would've remembered seeing a face just as annoying as yours on the other side of the net" he laughed, patting his shoulder in a true "big brother" style. "I appreciate the recognition, I really do, but I have many people knowing my name on a daily basis, you know. Let's talk about you, instead!"

You were slightly freaked out by Atsumu's sudden sarcasm and bitterness, as you weren't used to seeing him... jelous? Is that how you'd describe it? He was a very confident person so he never got insecure about your relationship. He knew how crazy about him you really were, even if you tried to hide it as much as you could. You also knew about his affection to irritating people, but it was all jokes and nothing serious most of the time, and even if it was, he always managed to be lowkey and funny about it, but now it seemed as if he was dense and really pissed.

Did he have a bad day? Did you fail to ask him? Countless quesitons ran through your head, but you couldn't seem to recall anything like that. After all, what brought you two together was the fact that you always seemed to know what was happening in his head, even when he tried to hide it as much as possible.

"Sato Yakeru" he said, deadly glaring at Atsumu. "But why do you want to know, Miya-kun?" the boy put his hands on his hips, trying to gain back his confidence. "Are you really that insecure about the fact I took three minutes of you girl's precious time?"

This was not the Sato you remembered. That one was a sweet, sure, confident, but still sweet boy who always walked you to your house when you finished your classes, helped you with chemistry and played with your little sister when she interrupted your study dates. He always listened to all your problems, been there through all the ups and the downs and stood up for you whenever you needed that.

But now you've realized, he was always like that. He was always such a chauvinist, wanting to be the prince charming, wanting to rescue you out of any opression there was, but then you didn't mind, you didn't even notice, because you were percisely the little scared girl he wanted. And now that that's changed, he was suddenly irritating. Miya glanced back at you, concerned when he noticed you weariness. He looked Sato up and down with hatred in his eyes. Now, that's a look you hadn't seen in a very long time.

"Now, now" he laughed with pity. "Don't get too full of yourself there, little one" he said reffering to the fact that he was significantly taller than the boy "It takes a lot more than just a pipsqueak like you to make me loose my composure"

He came back to you taking both your cold hands into his.

"Was that boy bothering you, Angel Eyes? Do you know him?" you looked him deep in the eyes only to find him trying to mask his obvious irritation by acting calmly. You hesitated before answering, not wanting to deteriorate his mood even more.

"That's actually my childhood friend, 'Tsumu. I was just suprised to find out he was back in town"

He nodded, facing away from you, as if he was trying to calm down for real before letting you look into him again.

"What, didn't she tell you about me? Aw, that sucks, man" Sato laughed under his breath.

"What was that, munchkin? Couldn't hear ya." he smirked, proud of the childish insult. Once, you hear Osamu say that Atsumu's mental age decreases for about five years when he plays. Well, it decreases for seven when he gets angry. "Alright, honey, take the jacket now, you're trembling" Miya added much calmer, putting the fabric on your shoulders and adjusting it a bit so it covers the front of your body as well. You loved how big it was on you, you could literally fit your arm twice in those long sleeves of his. "Anything in particular ya want to do, or should we just head home?

You raised an eyebrow, not sure what he was getting at. You already agreed to go to your place and just chill, since it was friday, why was he asking now? And then, looking at the mixed expression painted across his face, you realized, he tried to show the other boy how different than him he truly is. You couldn't help but laugh.

How childish.

"Let's go, I'm getting tired" you responded, standing up on your toes, trying to match his eye level, knowing how much he adored that.

"Aight, we'll be going then. Pleased to meet ya, Sato-kun. Hope I'll never get the opportunity to speak to your annoying little face again." When you two walked passed the boy, he patted his shoulder. You heard giggling behind you.

"Fine then, short stuff, if you want to go somewhere and catch up this weekend, call me!" Yakeru shouted, already going his own way.

You froze upon hearing the nickname you've been called by him so many times in the past, and suddenly tears formed in your eyes, coming along with the memories you forgot you had.

"She won't!" Miya yelled back, putting his arm around your shoulder. You instinctly rested your head against his body.

Silence fell upon you two, nobody wanted to start the conversation, and to be honest, you already moved on from that little, ridiculous fight, and were now dwelling in your own thoughts, remembering all the happy times with Sato, back when you were kids and life was simpler.

"Short stuff, really? Out of all nicknames?" Atsumu finally said, out of nowhere, faking laughter. "It's the lack of creativity for me"

You didn't respond, barely even hearing him speak.

"I mean, it was obvious the guy was all pure vanilla and no flavour, but still, pathethic." he went on "And the nerve of this dude! Would ya believe? Who is he now, your prince charming coming to the rescue? Since when?" Atsumu started to get really worked up over something he should pay exactly zero shits to, but you chose not to interrupt him, afraid your voice will break, which was highly likely, judging from the tears, still present in your eyes. "Hey, Angel Eyes, shouldn't ya be telling me to shut up by now?"

He suddenly stopped walking, lifting your cheek with his finger, and noticed the little wet mark going across your cheek. Now quiet and worried, he wiped of it off, turning you around to be facing him directly.

"What's up?" he just asked, not knowing how to react. You were always the one to calm him down, not the other way around.

"Nothing's up, can we keep walking? I feel bad about you freezing without your jacket, I'll make you tea"

"I'm counting on that, but first stop with the bullshit and tell me" never once had he even sworn around you, so you guessed that he was still angry, even though he was being kind of supportive.

"It's just that... Oh, it's stupid. Forget it." You started walking again, causing him to have to run up to you.

"It's not stupid, come on. Was that guy bad memories?" he frowned, walking backwards to keep eye contact with you. You didn't respond.

"Or was it me? Did I overreact? Are you mad?" damn, you really didn't think you could shake him this much just by not reacting to what he was saying. You had trouble remembering when was the last time he ask if it was him that made you upset.

"No, nothing like that." you finally decided he'll blow up if you kept on staying silent. "That pathethic nickname you're so stressed about, it just brought up the version of him I'd much rather remember, instead of this <I'm a nice guy> piece of crap I've witnessed today."

Shock came across his face, hearing you get upset like that. He stayed silent for a while, going back to walking by your side, and not in front of you.

"So, uhm... is that why I never heard of him?" he asked quietly, it was almost a whisper. You glanced at him and noticed he was looking away, probably hiding how much it must've costed him to skip his pride and ask that. You took his hand in a reassurring gesture, finding that his fingers were pressed hard against the inside of the hand, so hard his knuckles were probably white by now. It took you a bit to untangle that, but he finally let you hold his hand, still not looking.

"No. I was just trying to forget that guy." your level of voice matched his, giving the conversation an intimate vibe.

"Why?"

"Well, he was my best friend all my life, but then moved away and cut me off, even though he promised never to do that" you kept staring at the pavement, holding back the wave of emotions.

"Was he always such a prick?" you giggled, hearing the noticeable accent on the word "prick". Miya looked at you and smiled as well. "What, does the word <prick> amuse ya? What're ya, five?"

You kept laughing even louder.

"What? What did I say?" he broke into laughter watching your eyes light up, but a clueless expression still decorated his face.

"Remind me why do I love you again, you brat?" you mumbled between bursts of uncontrollable giggling.

Something suddenly held you back from walking. You turned back to see Atsumu, staying still, pure shock in his eyes, red colouring his cheeks. He kept glaring at you as if you just came back from the dead.

"What is it?" you asked, holding back the amusement, still smiling widely.

"You... do?"

For a short while you didn't understand what he was reffering to, but when you finally got it, it shocked you as well.

Did you really just...? Was it really the first time? You knew that for so long it felt as if you'd already said it a thousand times before.

"Oh god, sorry, sorry, forget I said anything" you apologized, remembering his fear of commitment. You broke the grasp and started walking fast, but heard a loud "no wait!" behind you.

Miya managed to catch up with you and put both his hands on your shoulders.

"Wait, just... do you really...?" what, couldn't he say it? Didn't he feel the same way? Why would he be with you for so long if he didn't? Were you just a playtoy? Really, you wouldn't be suprised, judging by the stereotypes going around about him, but you really hoped you guys were different than that.

"I'm sorry if that's a bother to you" you said, tears forming in the corners of your eyes again. You heard him laugh almost histerically.

"God no, it's not, Angel Eyes, how could you think that?" he lifted your chin to look you in the eyes, but you faced away. He shook his head in disbelief, pulling you into a tight hug. You suddenly felt at home, burying your face into his t-shirt, smelling the cologne you so liked.

You didn't want that moment to end. Whatever he had to say, you were now sure it wasn't positive and you didn't want to think of him any different than right then and there: as you precious little saltshaker of a boyfriend who was unbearable to be around for most of the time, but you still adored every single word that came out of his mouth and loved him alltogether so much it hurted your brain to process it.

He probably felt his shirt becoming wet, though, because he leaned over just a bit, to be able to whisper something in your ear. You clenched your fists, waiting for the inevitable.

"Well if that's the case... then that makes all my previous possesiveness out of place, doesn't it?"

You didn't say anything back, not really knowing how, but you were sure, that in an embrace as tight as that one he surely felt your heart jumping out of your chest even more every growing second.

"Hey, Angel Eyes" he then said, pulling away from the hug, and smiling upon seeing your hands still squeezing his shirt, from how much you didn't want to let go. "Relax, I just want to look into those eyes. Also, I don't want to whisper, that's sorta out of character for me, right? See, Angel Eyes, there are some things that just cannot be whispered, some feelings too strong to be degraded to the level of being silent. So I wanted to use my full voice to say — and it's not an easy thing to say, because, ya see, not only did I fall for you, but I am in fact, still falling! And that feeling creeps me out every single day. I guess that's why I was so afraid to tell you this. But I got it now."

He cleared his throat, looked you in the eyes, and put your hair behind your ear, which caused you to shake, due to his fingers being extremly cold.

"I love you to the point where no words are enough."

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fakecrfan · 3 years

Note

You say that a lot of people see the other's plan as wronging Jon specifically, more than the people in other worlds, and while I disagree with that reasoning, I think it's unfair to use that as proof of pro Jon bias (or, well, there being more pro Jon bias than pro other characters bias) when a lot of people's objections to Jon's actions are along the lines of "he betrayed the group!" or "he betrayed Martin!" (hell, look at the complaint about him "not listening" - which, yes, is first said in canon, but echoed a lot in fandom. Surely you agree that whether he was right or wrong, he should have based his decision on which choice was morally better, not on "listening" to the rest of the group.)

Ah, I think a lot of people took my reply to my friend’s post musing “I have seen people make arguments for Jon that irritate me, and gotten into arguments with people who excuse Jon in ways that they don’t other avatars like Daisy” as me saying “I think Jon was wrong in the finale episode and the others are right.” (Edit: Or that I am saying everyone who thinks Jon was right is just biased in Jon’s favor.)

That is not true. I think that the well-being of the countless people we don’t see is waaaaaaaay more important than that of Jon, Martin, Georgie, or any of the other group. And, as I have said in another reply, I think that Jon’s idea at the end was better, even though he was trapping his friends in an objectively horrible situation. (Here is the ask where I elaborate on those feelings.)

It’s just that most of the discussion I have seen on the morality of the finale is all about “Is Jon A Good Person Or A Bad Person, And Was Everyone Else Being Mean To Him.” And that frustrates me. But that could just be that I have had Bad Luck with what side of the discussions I have seen, and that most of the takes are something else.

As for whether Jon should base his decision on the group or on what is “morally correct”... hm.

Well, let me ask you this: what do you think about democracy?

Like, in general, most people I have talked to agree that some sort of democratic decision making is better than a single person making a decision on what gets to happen to everyone. Generally, this is how people agree societies should be run and decisions should be made. If not everyone gets to decide, then surely people who represent the groups of the people unspoken for should get to make the decisions.

Here’s another question: how do you feel about peer review? or scientific consensus?

If 20 scientists say X is the answer, and 1 scientist says Y is the answer... do you think we should trust the group more, or the single scientist? If you think the former--congratulations, that’s how science works, generally. Things are done in groups, because the idea is that multiple people are more likely to correct each other’s biases than one person alone who doesn’t take the perspective of other people into account.

(Of course, it is still possible that the single person gets vindicated by time and the group of 20 was wrong. But generally speaking--there is a reason that science works by consensus.)

So, with that in mind, tell me this: how can Jon know he is right?

Because when you say “he should choose what is morally correct over what the group wants” that sounds like a perfectly simple idea when you phrase it that way. But since morality isn’t something with an objective measure, what that comes down to, in practice, is “Jon should choose what he thinks is morally correct over what everyone else agrees is morally correct.”

Jon is currently being psychologically pulled to do what the Beholding wants. It’s a pressure that has, in the past, caused him to hurt innocent bystanders and justify it to himself. Can he trust his own judgment, given that is directly being influenced by a horror entity that feeds on suffering? Can he trust his own judgment given that, a few episodes ago, he was gushing to Martin about how he could rule the hell world and make the suffering fair--and he clearly mostly wanted to do this for the power/pleasure, and was using morality as a justification?

(It turns out fine when he does it but how can he know it will--was it really a safe bet, or did he just get lucky?)

Is it a good idea for him to trust his own idea of right and wrong over that of... the other people who are available to make a decision? Over the people who he would be trapping alone in a world where everything else dies screaming around them--while he gets to ascend to a position of pleasure and power?

And see--I say all of this still thinking that Jon’s idea is better.

It’s just--the idea that one person alone shouldn’t get to decide what is moral has a lot more merit than I think you are giving it credit for. Jon is not infallible. No single person ever is infallible. There is a reason to make decisions in groups, especially decisions that will effect so many people.

When is it better to trust your own idea of what is moral--over the people you are condemning to suffer? It’s not really something you can know objectively. You just have to make a bet.

Jon bets on his own idea of what is “morally correct.” I think he is right in the finale--but he hasn’t always been in the past. So I think the idea that he should defer to the group has merit even if I (at time of writing this) currently disagree in this instance specifically.

#moral philosophy day never ends #thank you for the ask!#my post #my meta #I need to make a moral philosophy tag #or maybe a finale tag #hmmmmmm #will think about this #intpdreamer

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hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.20

a/n: i... smell... drama...

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19, part 21

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito @meximorrita @awesomeee19 @celestial-kanzakii @laure-lo @team-wang-puppy @aydience-world @choros-main-hoe @colorseeingchick @but-kairis-not-that-smart(i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

Keeping both your palms rested on your thighs, it took a lot of energy to regulate your steadily increasing blood pressure. Not seeing Overhaul for almost a week made you realize just how gorgeous his face was, despite it being partially covered by the beak. From time to time, you would send a death glare to Tsukauchi.

It also took a considerable amount of dedication not to look at him. Thankful that peripheral views exist, you were sure how his golden eyes would linger on your silently panicking figure. Tapping your foot was definitely not helping.

“So that’s the rerun for later.” Tsukauchi ended the presentation and closed the projector. He, too, could feel the increasing tension in the room. Yet, this had been a part of his plan. Seeing how you were down made him move and decide that it was time for him to intervene. He also took note on how Overhaul made zero effort in concealing his stares. “Any questions?”

“The back route seems a bit faulty.” One of the officers commenced making Tsukauchi reach for the printed copy. “Is there an alternate route?”

“We can opt to use the fire exit but it would be too obvious on our part. I specifically chose this route since there are less hindrances along the way and it would be easy to be lost in the crowd.”

“I’m pretty sure the Fukuo Kai will be heavily guarding the back route.”

“On the contrary,” Overhaul spoke up. Each person jumping at the sudden intrusion of his muffled voice. “The back route will make things easier. If your lot wants to narrowly escape then being cornered will be a good thing. Those bastards aren’t the best when they get separated from their mother hen.”

Hearing him speak sent shivers down your spine. Gritting your teeth, you pushed your quirk a bit more to relax yourself. Personal emotions aside, he had a point.

“He just sided with Tsuka-kun.” Shinezu leaned in and whispered. “Is this a fever dream?”

“No. Take the sociopath away, he’s relatively stable.” You praised him. “One of the best villains to work with, in all honesty.”

“Oh right, you were paired up with him before the… holy smokes this guy’s got balls. Entering a precinct despite having the heroes planning to capture him? What I’d give to have his confidence.”

“You’ll get there, Shinez. Just get out of the office more.” You squeezed his shoulders and earned an enthusiastic huff.

With the briefing now finished, Overhaul excused himself and left the room. The way he turned around without a care in the world, or at least the people in the room, made the butterflies in your stomach tingle with a certain longing that only he could fill. Chewing on your inner cheek, it was getting difficult to stop yourself from standing up and drag him to that one secluded area to pour your pent up emotions.

Shaking your head, you shifted your attention back to the meeting. It had not registered that there were still a few small talks happening. Luckily, no one took it to themselves to converse with you. Listening to their conversations, one of them addressed his concerns about having to work with a villain.

“It goes beyond our belief.” He commented. Forehead wrinkling at the thought of having Overhaul as a team mate.

“He does the job rather well.” Tsukauchi defended him. His words bore no ill-will. “His quirk will be of help later. Also take into consideration that your group will not be in the same area as him. (l/n) and I will be with him guarding the premises.”

“Still. I bet right now, he’s listening in on our conversation. Doesn’t that bother you?” His eyes slid to your silent mouth. Almost as if asking for validation. One that he would not be getting anytime sooner.

“I digress. I’ve worked with him a bit longer than Nao.” You caught his stare and shrugged. “As long as you don’t question his motives, he’ll cooperate. He does what he wants and what we want as long as boundaries are present.”

“Suit yourselves.” Standing up, the 4th division officer commanded the others to follow him into the garage.

Once it was only Tsukauchi, Shinezu, and you inside the room, one more small conversation ensued.

“Do you want him to ride in your car or mine?” Tsukauchi asked.

“Am I missing something?” Shinezu asked with eyes wide open. Head going back and forth from his coworkers.

“You’re the head of the case.” Smiling at your partner, you would respect whatever decision he would make. “Surprise me. I’ll wait by the lobby.”

Leaving the room, you immediately proceeded to your desk and grabbed the necessities. Knowing you would gear up at the site, the trip was short and you were now seated in the driver’s seat. Key inside the ignition hole, the engine warming up to be put to good use. Getting a message that you were to wait by the entrance, you followed suit and squinted when sunlight hit your eyes.

Turning your hazard lights on, you stared at the entrance of the building. Who would be seated beside you in the minutes to come? Hearing your ringtone, you tore your gaze away and grabbed your phone.

“Gei?” This was the last person you’d expect to call you at this time. Gripping your phone a little harder, you waited for him to speak up.

“Yes yes yes, I know! And relax, I’m fine!” He assured you. “I just called to inform you that next week, my schedule will be cleared due to some conference that got rescheduled. I was thinkin we could head out and have some quality time together?”

“What do you have in mind?” Reaching for your planner, you checked your own schedule next week and found you could squeeze in a few hours for him. Looking into your rearview mirror, your eyes widened at the sight of the reflection. “Holy smokes. I gotta go. I’ll call you later, Gei.”

“Is your mission starting? Oh shit! I’m so sorry for disturbing you! Take care and stay safe, (n/n).” He managed to spit out some words before he could hear the door opening through the line.

“I apologize for making you wait.” Overhaul said as he seated himself in the backseat. Closing the seat, his sight remained glued to the outside world. His fingers now playing with the hems of his white gloves.

“GIRL?! IS THA-” Before you would let Overhaul hear what your friend had to say, you ended the call and closed your planner.

Half expecting that Tsukauchi would let him ride your car, you felt your chest tighten at the fact he was in the backseat and not beside you. Perhaps things were really different after that Ackerman name drop. Remembering he had apologized for making you wait, you placed the planner back into your bag and thanked the seat for covering your flushed face.

“It really wasn’t that long.” Seated properly again, you caught his intense golden eyes staring at your mirror. Not one to back out from a staring game, it shocked yourself when you tore your gaze first. A mission was at hand and personal feelings should now be set aside. “You ready?”

With no response, you began the trip to the rendezvous point.

What usually was filled with small talks and easy flowing conversations, the car ride proved to be longer than you wanted. Whatever comfortable silence shared before was now replaced with thick tension. All it takes would be one word to break the ice and perhaps mend the splitting relationship, but intuition told you otherwise. Giving him what he wants would only make things worse.

If it wasn’t for Tsukauchi’s car appearing into view, you would have caved and threw your pride. Parking the car, you watched as he opened the door and immediately closed it. Memories of 6 nights ago flooding your brain. Shaking the thoughts away, you grabbed your phone and made sure to hide the burner phone in the glove compartment.

Once you were met with Tsukauchi and Shinezu, you were bombarded with questions.

“How was the car ride? You’re alive! Did he share any of his ideas and ways of life?” Shinezu asked away.

“It was a silent ride.” You gave your partner a shrug. “He sat in the backseat so I was his chauffeur for the entire duration.”

“Oi, you three! Get in here!” One of the officers from the 4th division called your attention. Gesturing you three to approach the small tent, Tsukauchi nodded and led the group. Inside the small tent were a bunch of monitors displaying the camera footage of the targeted building. “Birdman has entered the building and is heading to his position. So far, the targets are where they’re supposed to be.”

“Keep us updated. It won’t be long before their meeting will start.” Tsukauchi reached for an earpiece and handed each one of you as well. Giving Shinezu final instructions, both of you watched as the shy man exited the tent and appeared on one of the monitors. “He may be shy but he does undercover well.”

“Couldn’t agree more~” You smirked at how Shinez rolled his shoulders and took much more confident strides.

“Ah, (y/n), a word…” Tsukauchi opened the tent doors and led you to his car. “First off, I’m sorry for the sudden intrusion of Overhaul. I just hate seeing you so down these days. I thought that if he were to see you, whatever you see in him might come out and things might turn out for the better.”

“Don’t mind, don’t mind~” Scratching your neck, it was honestly the thought that counted. “I got to see him so I guess it ain’t all that bad. Plus, spoiling him wouldn’t do us any good so…”

“Just talk to him later. Truth be told, he didn’t want to come.” Staring at the building, Tsukauchi couldn’t help but wonder, what would happen once the earpiece would finally establish connection. “When I told him you’d be there, he changed his mind before ending the call.”

The rest of the hours flew by and the meeting finally began. Tsukauchi was listening carefully through the earpiece while you monitored Shinezu. Every now and then, you would glance at the monitor which focused on Overhaul. If things were still the way before, you would bet your money that Overhaul would be texting you on how the meeting was a waste of his time.

Feeling your chest tightening and your shoulders getting heavier by the minute, you focused back on Shinezu’s camera. It was only for a second but you caught how the man flinched. Furrowing your brows, you asked the person in charge to zoom in on Shinezu. Pointing towards the communication device, the officer quickly grabbed it and handed it over. With your thumb grazing the small button, you waited till you were sure the man was in distress. Seeing how he put his hand in his pocket, you clicked on the button.

“Calm down.” Heartbeat slowly picking up its pace. “Scratch your cheek if you’re in need of back up, touch your chin if it’s urgent.”

Hearing what you stated, the officer stood up and ordered the back up team to prepare..

The moment Shinezu touched his chin, you put the device down and gave them the go signal. Jogging to Tsukauchi’s station, you updated him of the current events to which he relayed to Overhaul. Continuing the task, you went back to your seat and pushed the button.

“Backup is on it’s way, Shinez. Leave now.” You watched as the conversation between him and the other man continued. With your finger tapping on the jagged edge of the device, your focus was now on another monitor. Letting out your held breath, relief flooded you when the other man turned his back and made his way back to whatever business he had. Once Shinezu was in a clear spot, the button was pushed once more. “What the heck happened?”

“I heard a gunshot. Presumably on the floor above.” He was now running towards the elevator while loosening his tie.

Looking at the other monitors, the mentioned floors looked fine.

“Shit. Nao!”

“On it.”

Leaving your posts to the other officers, Tsukauchi and you geared up before jogging towards the entrance. Careful of your surroundings.

“How long did you think they rigged the footage?” You asked as you entered the building. It was oddly and unsettling. Focusing on whatever noise would suffice, all you could hear were each of your footsteps on the floors. Clicking your earpiece, you tried to communicate with whoever could be reached. “Anyone from 4. Do you copy?”

“One injured. 5th floor.” One officer managed to reply.

Giving you a signal, Tsukauchi went towards the stairs while you were left to further inspect the ground floor for any possible civilians or members in hiding. Sighing at the turn of events, you took out your handgun and cocked it. Cautiously taking one step after another, you began to check each room and corner till you were sure the vicinity was clear.

Heading to the fire exit, you made your way to the 4th floor. Just as you were about to open the door, the ground shook. Staring at the ceiling, you took note of the looming cracks. Not wanting to remain in the cramped area, you entered the hallway. Not expecting the floor to be somewhat of a wreck, you covered your nose and squint at all the dust.

It took a while to adjust, but the floor was now clearer to your eyes. Coughing a bit, you took more steps forward. Before turning the corner, you stopped in your tracks when you heard a familiar voice.

“Where is he?” The way it was muffled only gave him away. “Tsk. You made such a mess.”

Peaking, you saw his tall figure. Hands void of any gloves.

Hearing a crunching sound behind you, your eyes searched the premises only to be met with emptiness. With your finger resting on the trigger, you were more than ready to defend yourself. Even if it meant shooting a person, the only thing you hated about the job.

“Answer me, you rat. The meeting was going well till that little gesture you did with your hands.” Bending his body down, the tip of his mask touched the trembling person’s cheek. “Don’t make me ask again.”

“H-he went to the rooftop.” The man answered.

“Did you get that?” Overhaul touched his earpiece. It was quiet again. “Hmm? No one’s on the rooftop? Well then, that’s not my problem anymore now is it?”

Taking the small device from his ear, he stared at it before overhauling. Adjusting his jacket, you watched as he knelt and stretched out a hand towards the other person’s neck. Not wanting a mess of things, it was time you intervene.

“I wouldn’t kill him if I were you…” Stepping out of your little corner, you felt your throat parching when he peered at you over his shoulder. Putting the handgun away, you showed him your palms and walked closer to the two men. “We can bring him in and question him in the precinct.”

“This has nothing to do with the Fukuo Kai case.” His gaze now back at the man. “Stay out of it.”

“As much as I want to stay out of it, this man is still a part of the Fukuo Kai. We need him in one piece.”

“I thought you swore not to, I quote, snoop around.” His hand now wrapped around the other person’s neck. Standing to his feet, you watched as the helpless man struggled for oxygen. “Leave.”

“I’d rather not.” You stood your ground. “The others already think negatively of you, despite you lending a helping hand. Just give him to us and I’ll even give you the privilege of asking a few questions.”

“Do you think I actually care about what you people think? All of you are mere pawns in my game.” Tightening his grip, his golden eyes bore holes into the choking man. Not for long though, a second after, the deafening scream was replaced with the sounds of blood splattering on the walls. Turning around to face you, Overhaul wiped the blood off his hands onto his jacket. “Listen, I may have agreed to work with your lot, but there was no agreement regarding my actions and its consequences.”

“I’m well aware.” Lifting your chin up, you continued. “But this doesn’t revolve around you. You’re my pawn in this case. Remember, if you want out, go ahead. I can pull a few strings and solve this case without you.”

“Then so be it.”

- - - - -

a/n: oops. did yall like this chapter? this was pretty difficult to write since ive never really written this kind of scene (save for BLEACH because i may or may not have a Hitsugaya x Reader couchcough) but i hope yall like the increasing drama! :*

#overhaul x reader #overhaul #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #chisaki #chisaki kai x reader #chisaki kai #bnha chisaki kai #mha chisaki kai

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official-weasley · 3 years

Text

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 2, Ch. 9

PART 2: THE YEAR OF MISCHIEF AND SNEAKING AROUND Chapter 9 - The Bittersweet Goodbye

Nova

I couldn't believe that another year at Hogwarts has come to an end. Oh, listen to me, sounding like Dumbledore! We had only a few more days before Hogwarts Express was going to take us back home.

Unlike last year, when we could just do whatever we wanted the last couple of days, in Penny's opinion that was packing, we had 2 things to do this year.

First, was going down to the Quidditch Pitch and cheer for Charlie as he got a tryout invitation the week before exams started!

Apparently, the Gryffindor Charlie spoke to at the beginning of the school year was right about their Captain not picking Charlie just because of his little brother who cost them the Quidditch House Cup! The team was fed up with the Captain picking favorites as he blamed the rest of them for losing, so they kicked him off the Team with McGonagall's approval. The Gryffindor Chaser that thought Charlie was better than the ex-captain's younger brother invited him to try out for Seeker again and it was all happening in a few days! Bill, Penny, Tulip, Tonks, Jae, and I decided to go and watch his tryouts and give him a confidence boost from the stands.

The other thing the Second Years had to do was pick their Elective Classes for our Third Year. We had to choose at least two and we could pick between Muggle Studies, Divination, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, and Study of Ancient Runes.

The one subject I was sure to choose was Care of Magical Creatures but I was rather indecisive about the other one. Tulip decided to go for Ancient Runes and Divination. Tonks picked Divination as she thought it could be fun making up predictions with Tulip and she chose Care of Magical Creatures as well. Penny chose Arithmancy and Muggle Studies as she said that her dad would be proud if she would learn about his 'culture' as well.

It looked like I wasn't the only one who struggled to pick their second subject as Charlie was first debating between Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies. But the very next day at breakfast announced that he was thinking about Divination instead.

—

As I couldn't decide for several days, I decided to owl Bill and ask him for advice. He was more than happy to meet me in the Great Hall and he dragged Charlie along as he changed his mind to Muggle Studies again.

“I picked Ancient Runes, but as I want to become a Curse Breaker that was an obvious choice.” I nodded as my dad, who was a Curse Breaker, took Ancient Runes as well.

“I wanted to stay far away from Divination and Arithmancy but later found out that both could help with my career too.” He rubbed his chin.

“I was also thinking about taking Muggle Studies as my dad would just love that.” He chuckled to himself, remembering how much his dad is interested in anything Muggle related.” In the end, I decided to take them all as I was hoping I could learn as much as possible since you never know what I could encounter during my career.”

“And you have time for all the subjects?” That seemed like a lot of work.

“It's...manageable.” Bill said slowly and I had a feeling he had a trick up his sleeve for attending all the subjects.

“So, Ancient Runes it is.” Charlie said, obviously not as ambitious as his brother. He just wanted the subject that would help him become a Dragonologist and that was Care of Magical Creatures.

“Charlie, really think this through.” Bill frowned. “You are stuck with the subjects you pick until the end.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. “And we are back to square one.” I chuckled.

“I never thought this was going to be so hard. But I think I wouldn't be good at Divination or Arithmancy so it's either Muggle Studies or Ancient Runes.” I scratched the top of my head.

“Even though, neither would come in useful if I become a Magizoologist.” I continued. Charlie beamed at my career choice as if he had just heard it for the first time and was extremely proud of it.

“Perhaps, Ancient Runes wouldn't be so bad for you. You might need to rescue a creature from a cave or come upon a cursed cage or something like that.” Bill thought out loud.

“Ancient Runes it is!” Said Charlie again.

“We don't have to take the same subject, you know.” I chuckled.

“C'mon, Charlie! Don't you want to take Muggle Studies?” Bill mocked him and ruffled his hair.

“And have dad send me letters twice per week asking for me to describe in excruciating details what I have learned? Are you mental!” Charlie frowned at him.

We debated Charlie's subject for another hour before he decided to take Divination. The next morning I sat next to him at breakfast and pulled out my Elective Subjects form. I wrote down Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes. I peaked at Charlie's paper and he had written the same.

“Didn't you decide on Divination?” I asked, smiling.

“I changed my mind.” He answered sleepily. I couldn't help but giggle.

—

The next morning, the group and I went to the Quidditch Pitch to watch Charlie become the next Gryffindor Seeker. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that he wasn't going to get the position.

Besides us, there were quite a few Gryffindors on the stands. Apparently, the Team wasn't the only one who wanted to change their Seeker. To mine and Bill's surprise, Professor McGonagall came to the tryouts as well.

She greeted us with a smile and we sat down next to her.

“A big Quidditch fan, Professor?” Bill grinned.

“I would rather not be reminded of this year's season, Mr. Weasley.” She pursed her lips. “I spoke to Madam Hooch as soon as I found out that your brother was going to try out as our new Seeker. She told me that he is on top of her class and that, without being biased, of course, said that with him on the Team, we might get a chance to win the House Cup next year.” She tried hiding her excitement but at that moment I think she forgot she was talking to her students.

The Gryffindor Quidditch Team flew to the pitch and opened the giant chest in which all the Quidditch balls were held. They first wanted to see Charlie fly around, then he had to do a couple of really fast laps and some weaving which of course was no problem for him. Then the Captain asked him if he has any tricks up his sleeve and he flew high in the air and performed the Wronski Feint.

I only knew about the move because Charlie told me about it and showed it to me proudly last Summer at the Burrow.

I chuckled as I saw that he left the Gryffindor Captain with an open mouth as it looked like he was about to crash but flew up at just the right time. We all cheered, including McGonagall, who winked at Bill.

After performing a few more tricks and catching the Snitch twice the Captain has decided and Charlie officially became part of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team!

We waited for him in front of the Gryffindor tent in order for him to change.

He was startled by Professor McGonagall, who walked to him as soon as he came out, shook his hand, and said something that sounded like: “Congratulations, Mr. Weasley.” She then said goodbye to us and walked towards the school.

We waited a bit not to look like complete animals and then ran to Charlie shouting and cheering.

“Nice job, mate!” Jae said to him.

“Mum is going to cry when we tell her.” Bill grinned and ruffled his hair.

“I knew that old captain was a fraud!” I said as I hugged him.

It was finally time to board the train and head back home. Bill decided to be in a compartment with his friends this year so Jae could join us. We couldn't stop laughing when Tonks told us her plans for the Summer and we realized that they were just like last year's: not giving her parents a rest for naming her Nymphadora.

Tulip said that she was going to be a 'good girl' and work in her mum's shop again as she wanted to get as much money as she could because next year, we were allowed to go to Hogsmeade. Jae, Tulip, and Tonks then started debating what they would get at Zonko's Joke shop and how they could use each thing to prank Filch and Snape.

Charlie and I listened to them for a while, then we started to daydream about Care of Magical Creatures. We couldn't believe that we were going to finally be able to take the subject and finally see who will buy Butterbeer to whom as we will get to explore the Creature's Reserve at Hogwarts and see who got more creatures right.

Then we turned to Penny, reading a book until now, as we asked her about her plans for the Summer, and she told us that unlike last year's Muggle Vacation, they were going to visit some old family friends of her mum's. She couldn't decide who was more against it her or her dad as the Muggle Beach adventure was apparently an annual thing and they were going to break it this year for the first time.

Penny and Tonks then made a bet on who was going to be better at predicting as Penny chose Arithmancy which was all about predicting the future with numbers and Tonks took Divination. Charlie and I decided it would be a shame if we didn't get in on the bet. I bet that Penny was going to be better because she looked rather suspicious as to why she agreed so quickly to make a bet with Tonks. Charlie bet that Divination was Tonks' secret talent just like Herbology. Whoever wins the bet, gets free Butterbeer from the other person, of course.

All of our bets and most plans for our free time in our Third Year revolved around Hogsmeade and Butterbeer as we couldn't wait to explore the little village, especially in Winter as we heard it was so beautiful when covered in a fresh sheet of snow.

The train ride was over as quickly as it began. I couldn't believe how much time Charlie and I spent daydreaming. As we were waiting for the crowd in the corridor to get thinner Charlie asked me if I was coming to the Burrow this year as well. As much as I wanted to come and spend time with him and his family again, I had to decline.

Last week before the exams ended, my mum sent me a letter saying that both her and dad were getting more time off this year and that we would get to spend a proper vacation together as a family. She also told me that much to my disappointment we were going to America to spend some time with our pompous relatives. A few days after my mum sent me the letter I also got one from my aunt from Scotland, inviting me to stay with her as her Abraxan was expecting babies again.

It was cute seeing Charlie trying to hide that he wasn't sad at all that he won't be able to see me during the Summer. Before leaving the train I hugged him and whispered that I would try to convince my parents to come to the Burrow for a visit and I was happy to see that that cheered him up a bit.

We were all making our way through the crowd when I spotted my mum standing next to Mr. Weasley, I mean Arthur. I ran into her arms and felt her fingers brushing my hair immediately. She also gave a hug to Charlie and for that, his cheeks turned pink.

He blushed even more when my mum told us that she and Arthur were thinking of our families getting together for a picnic this Summer as my dad would be delighted to see his old friend again, now that he'll be able to get some time off work.

I also had the opportunity to introduce her to Penny and Tonks, as she already met Tulip when we visited her mum's coffee shop, and as I watched them converse, I couldn't decide who was more excited to meet who. Tonks was asking her a bunch of questions about being an Auror and Penny wanted to know if Aurors ever need to use their knowledge of Potions and where.

On our way home, she told me that they were exactly as I described them to her and that before they introduced themselves to her, she knew exactly which was which. My mum was quite proud of it, while I chuckled as I couldn't help to think that their hair was what gave them away.

END OF PART 2

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skepticalcatfrog · 4 years

Text

Among The Stars Chapter 8

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Summary: Logan Watts is a famous scientist, known by almost everyone in the galaxy. His most famous invention is his friend and assistant, a healthcare android named Patton. When they are called to another planet for a meeting with the local ruler, they're expecting a completely normal trip. Little did they know, this trip would send them into a daring adventure to protect their galaxy and stop a war. Teamed up with unlikely friends, including a runaway gladiator and an infamous crime trio, Logan and Patton have to figure out how to make peace and save their universe (and beyond) from being destroyed.

Pairings: (Eventual) Prinxiety, Logicality, and Demus

Word count: 2,161

Author's Notes: This one is definitely a shorter one, but a lot happens, so I'm sure you guys won't be disappointed!

"I have something important that I think you need to know. It's about Roman." Dalton had just barely finished his sentence when the elevator doors opened again. Roman (with Virgil at his side) entered the room and positioned himself between Logan and Dalton, his hands clasped together.

"Dalton, please. You don't have to do this." He pleaded. "I'm sorry, I really am. But I'm begging you, don't say anything."

"You just don't get it, do you? There's no coming back from this." Dalton pushed past him. "Roman's been lying to us. He's not a prince, he's a fugitive. He's just been a stowaway on this ship until he finds a safe place to ditch the dead weight and go into hiding."

"...What?" Virgil looked up at Roman, but he couldn't bring himself to meet Virgil's eyes. "You… you lied to us?"

"Roman, is this true?" Logan asked, raising his eyebrows.

Roman sighed, closing his eyes. "Yes. It is."

"I see." Logan said monotonously. The lack of emotion was, somehow, worse than anger. "Well, Dalton, I appreciate that you thought to tell me."

"Yeah, well, he had it coming anyway." Dalton hissed through gritted teeth.

"So all that stuff you said. All the promises you made. None of them were real?" The pure pain in Virgil's voice made Roman want to run himself through with his own sword. At least that would hurt less.

"I-" Roman began, but was cut off.

"Remember to tell the truth this time, asshole." Dalton crossed his arms.

"I… had to sell my story." Roman admitted, his posture slouched and his tone ridden with guilt. "If you didn't believe I was really royalty, I would've been out of here. I needed you to trust me."

Dalton watched as Virgil's sadness morphed into rage. "Great fucking job then. You really had me going." He punched Roman in the stomach. Hard. He doubled over, arms covering the spot where he'd been hit. Then Virgil started towards the door. "Remus was right. We should've thrown you through the airlock when we had the chance."

He slammed the door behind him.

"Okay, I deserved that…" Roman muttered as he straightened himself out again.

"Damn right you did." Dalton nodded. "So, Logan. What are we going to do with him?"

"I believe you're forgetting a vital piece of information, Dalton." Logan adjusted his tie. "I own this ship. Meaning that, while I appreciate you informing me of the situation, you still have no say in the outcome. I will be discussing this further with Patton, and the two of you are instructed to stay a minimum of five feet apart in order to avoid physical conflict. You are dismissed."

He turned back to what he'd been doing previously. Dalton and Roman shared a confused glance. Then they left, given the fact that Logan probably wouldn't be answering any more questions.

~~~

Virgil had gone directly to his room, absolutely fuming. He sat down on his bed. He couldn't believe what had just happened. That is, he didn't want to believe it. How could he have been such an idiot? Dalton had told him, over and over again, that Roman couldn't be trusted. But did he listen? No! And look where that had gotten him.

He punched the wall. Then he punched it again. And again, and again, and again. His fists just kept going, letting all of his anger flow out of him like a waterfall. He thought about that stupid jerk and all of his stupid promises.

One day, I promise, I'll give you the grand tour. You can count on that.

So much for that. He didn't even have a kingdom.

I personally think that glitch gives you character.

At least Virgil had character.

I wouldn't put that one on the list. Since it's an easy fix.

To think, Virgil had actually kissed this guy.

I… had to sell my story.

Well, he'd done a good job of fooling everyone, hadn't he?

I needed you to trust me.

Virgil wouldn't make that mistake again.

He stopped beating up the wall. It had been dented beyond repair. He stared at the damage he'd done for a moment, surprised that he had that much power in him. A single black tear rolled down his cheek, leaving a mark. He didn't even notice it until it splattered on the white bedsheets. He didn't even know he could cry. It was probably just another feature used to make him look weak.

Easy to manipulate.

He hugged his knees to his chest and rested his head on them, letting out silent sobs that stained his clothes like ink in small drops. He only looked up when the door opened. A small, twisted, broken part of his brain hoped it was Roman. He silenced that part quickly. Dalton stepped into the room.

"Hey, kid. How're you holding up?" He asked gently as he sat down next to Virgil.

"Not well." Virgil sniffled, trying to dry his face with his sleeve. "I just don't know why he would do that."

"Who knows. People act out of self preservation. Doesn't make lying to us any better, but he thought he had to." Dalton traced circles on Virgil's back. He noticed the dents in the wall. "Got some of that anger out, did you?"

"Mhm." Virgil nodded. "It didn't help much. I wish we were back home, away from all of this shit."

"I do too, Virge. I do too." Dalton agreed.

"I just… I loved him, D. I know it was stupid, but I did." Virgil rested his head on Dalton's shoulder. "You were right. I should've listened to you in the first place."

Normally, Dalton would be celebrating. He'd maybe say an 'I told you so' or two. He should've been happy that Virgil was finally seeing the truth. But… he wasn't. Virgil sounded so broken up. He sounded absolutely crushed. And Dalton couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't done the right thing after all.

~~~

Roman was taking a walk. He needed to clear his head. Maybe he should've just told them the truth, maybe it wouldn't have been as bad as he thought it would've. It definitely wouldn't be worse than this. He found himself back in the training room, hacking apart drones and yelling into the abyss. He took satisfaction in the sound they made when he swung at them.

"I've really screwed up now, haven't I!"

Crunch.

"'There's no coming back from this', he said!"

Crunch.

"Sure, maybe I deserve their distrust!"

Crunch.

"But I definitely don't deserve all-"

Crunch.

"-of-"

Crunch.

"-this!"

Crunch.

He looked around at the wreckage of the practice drones. He'd already gotten rid of every last one. He sighed and retracted the blade on his sword. There wasn't any use in messing anything else up, he'd broken enough things that day. He clicked the hilt of his sword back into its place on his belt. Not even bothering to clean up after himself, he left the training room.

He walked through the halls of the ship, passing by room after room. He hesitated in front of Virgil's. He momentarily considered going in, but decided against it, continuing with his dejected walk. He traveled past Dalton's room, Remus's room, his own room, and finally Logan's room. He was just about to turn and go back the other way when he heard muffled voices. He stopped and pressed his ear to the door of Logan's room. Eavesdropping wasn't his usual go-to, but this was important.

"... can't just leave him behind. He could be dangerous, so we would want to monitor his behavior." That was Logan.

"But he could just be looking for a place to call home!" And Patton. "I can't imagine what I'd do if I were him, I would be so scared!"

"But you aren't him. You were programmed to be trustworthy, meanwhile he could be deceiving us at any time." Logan was pacing. His footsteps could be heard through the door.

"My point still stands. Think about how terrified you were when you struck out on your own for the first time!" Patton pointed out.

"That doesn't matter now." Logan said.

"Of course it does! You have to put yourself in his shoes and remember how it felt to only have one person beside you." Patton reminded him. "That's how I bet he feels right now."

"I… I suppose you're right." Everything was silent for a moment. "However… we still have to take into account the safety of the majority. And of right now, the majority seems to want him gone. Dalton and Remus were unsure of him from the beginning. Virgil is on their side now as well. I am a neutral party. Roman is the person in question, making him biased, so he is automatically a neutral party as well. And you seem to want him to stay. Which means that there are three no's and one yes. So I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that if this really is the opinion of the group, he's going to have to go."

Roman took his ear off of the door. He'd heard enough. He thought that more that just one person would have his back, but apparently not. He scowled as he went back to his room, putting up a facade of anger in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. After closing the door, he leaned back on it and slid to the ground.

Dalton hated him. Remus hated him. Logan didn't like him. Virgil hated him. He hated himself. At this point the only one who was still on his side was Patton, and that wasn't saying much. If they all wanted him gone so much, what was the point of staying? He got up and went to the nightstand next to his bed. A digital notepad had been placed there. He assumed that everyone had been supplied with one, so he didn't think much of it. He picked up the notepad, sat down on his bed, and started typing.

The rest of the night went by in eerie silence. Everyone was shut into their rooms, no one really wanting to face anyone else. The first one to get up in the morning was Dalton. He left his room and walked to the elevator, taking it to the kitchen to get coffee. He would never admit it out loud, but he was beginning to regret telling Roman's secret. Virgil was happy with him, and that should've been all that mattered, wether Dalton liked it or not. But no, he just had to intervene, and now everything was going to shit. He sat on the kitchen counter until he'd finished his coffee. He was glad that no one else was awake. If anyone walked in, then he would be forced to rant to them about his emotions, and that was the last thing he wanted.

After he'd finished his morning routine, he decided to go for a quick walk. It was a prime time to do it, he wasn't at risk of running into anyone. He wandered through the floor that the kitchen was on, noticing many rooms that he'd never even been to. One was a dining room that looked like it hadn't been touched in at least a year. Another was a storage room full of boxes. Once he was done going through those, he returned to the elevator and descended to the lowest floor. He absent-mindedly meandered through rows upon rows of escape pods. But one made him stop in his tracks. The airlock was closed, the exit was open, and there was a digital note tacked up next to it. He got a little closer to read what it said.

'I don't know if anyone will see this note, but I figured I'd leave it anyway. After yesterday, I decided that the most beneficial thing to do would be to leave on my own. Despite the slim chance that I would've been allowed to stay, I would've rather left on my own accord than have been shunned by those I trusted. My time with you all was fun, and given the chance, I gladly would have remained part of the group. But that just isn't how things went. My only request is that you tell Virgil that I'm sorry. -Roman'

Dalton stared at the note, dumbfounded. This was all his fault. There was no denying at that point that he'd made a huge mistake. He glanced at the elevator behind him, considering letting the note be someone else's problem. But it wasn't. He caused this mess, he'd get them out of it. He turned back towards the escape pods, pressing the button that opened the airlock. He climbed into the pod and fastened the seatbelt. The airlock automatically closed behind him as the exit opened. Then he hit the accelerator, and that was it. He was on his way.

Taglist: @idkwhyimhere0o0 @icequeenoriginal @mostpeopleannoyne @007ardra @multifandomnightmare @queerlyfabulous

#sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders #ts logan #ts patton #ts deceit #ts roman #ts virgil #ts remus #prinxiety #logicality #demus #fanfic #scifi #among the stars au

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graffitibible · 4 years

Note

14 (killjoys only), 26 any kj fic, and 29 fuck. that last one is purely bc i think itd be funny and easy

If you were stuck on a desert island with only two characters, which would you pick?

easy, fun ghoul and the girl. ghoul and the girl both fix up trash to make a radio out of it and then the girl's our broadcasting signal. we flag down help and get the fuck outta there. its like free wi-fi why would you not pick that

Which part of [x fic] was the hardest to write?

picking mayhem cause thats the one thats consistently messed me up most on writing it. i definitely had Moments that were hard to write for both memory and starry-eyed but mayhem was tougher in general because ghoul is way less of a compartmentalizer than poison and jet are in terms of pov. the way i set up that fic means that the psychic distance between ghoul and the reader is as minimal as i could get it so almost all of the narration is being filtered through ghoul’s worldview and therefore biased as fuck. when they feel things he feels them very intensely and it can be rough to get into that mindset. writing a screaming constant positive feedback loop of perpetual self-loathing can be kind of taxing, who knew

there was an early bit in part i that i remember being hard to write in particular. lemme slap up a cw real quick

cw suicide mention, discussion of overdose

------------------

but the scene was ghoul basically deciding to overdose on his meds when they were just a kid. it wasn’t the attempt itself that sucked to write, but again more the mindset. the fact that it’s so uncommitted and so offhand and so easy. ghoul’s train of thought just ended up there and they decided to go through with it on the spot. it’s pure circumstance that saves him. it spoke to just the kind of state ghoul was in on a day to day minute to minute basis that they didnt need to be in a bad place to contemplate ending his own life. didn’t need a push or a real catalyzing incident or anything. they already lived in that full-time.

it’s not technically difficult for me to write characters in states of emotional distress, since i do that basically all the time lol. but certain situations can be rough to depict and since that situation in particular is one that sits close to home with me i wanted to make sure i did it right.

Send me a word. If it’s in your WIPs, include the sentence and a short summary of the fic.

lol it sure is! it sure is. present wip is part iv of mayhem and there are currently. uh 358 instances of the word “fuck.” according to this word count. and thats just for part iv so im questioning my abilities as a writer at this point but if you dont do that a hundred times every time you write something then what the hell u know

here’s a snippet featuring that word at length:

It's in the way they look at you like they're way the hell older than they actually are, older than they look, which ain't much older than you, maybe a year or two at the most. They look at you like they're piecing together all the different parts of you and you ain't never been looked at like that before. You been looked at like you was fucking subhuman (true) and like you was scum at the bottom of someone's foot (also true) and you been looked at like a dozen other variations on that same fucking theme but that weird interest, that fucking ferocity they've got to their stare, that's a new fucking thing and you think that's pretty fucking suspicious of them. You think it's a sharp set of eyes today and it'll be a knife in your back the next. Like they're sizing you up. Bet that's what this is. That's all this fucking is. Fucking convenience. Ain't it always.

not saying who that passage is about but i’m p sure yall can guess lol

#ask #anon #z speaks #im already staring at that paragraph contemplating how i want to change it when it comes to revisions lol #i really am so very predictable

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queenvidal · 4 years

Text

Reuinons

- 6 months are a long time, they have a lot of catching up to do -

- Work on AO3 -

Chapter 1:

Shepard escapes the elevator to go for the cockpit, Joker pinged her, said she needs to see it herself. What it is, he did not elaborate but she went nevertheless. Quickly she hurries to her spot to the left side of the pilot seat. “What’s wrong?”

Joker activates his console. A small map of the cluster opens up with three glowing dots on the left corner. This must be the Dalatrass, Victus men and the krogan Clan-Chief. “See that?" Joker asks, his voice barely over a whisper, he is nervous. "They are all just far enough from each other to be not in weapon range. I’m mean no pressure Shep but that is next level tense.”

“Yeah, Wrex told me they could not agree on a neutral meeting ground until now.” She could hear the tiredness in Wrex voice on their last vid-call. When she told him about Victus suggestion of holding the negotiation meeting here on the Normandy, he visibly relaxed. Certainly he would never admit it but Shepard assumed or hoped, it's been mostly because they would be able to finally see each other in person again.

Joker clears his throat, not knowing how to express his concern. “Shep, don’t get me wrong but with you and Wrex… you know, aren’t we considered biased technically?”

Shepard sighs. Not only technically. “Yup, but in the end all three of them agreed. So either they don’t know or don’t care. In worst case though, they will use it against Wrex. We’ll see.” She and Wrex kept their affair private but they didn't hide, still from Shepards point of view, it doesn't seem too likely for Victus and the Dalatrass to know about them. And even if they did, with their consent to the meeting ground and Shepards presence, they agreed on letting private matters slip.

Joker turns his head back to his console again. With a few hand movements over the screens he sends all three fleets a notification of their arrival and their location for the meeting. “I don't like this.” He mumbles. “I really don’t, Lex.”

She pats him on his shoulder lightly, careful not to injure him. “Me neither, Joker. Let’s hope we don’t cause another war.”

All three lights on the map start to move, Shepards sign to get moving as well. She turns on her heels to go back to the elevator. As comfortable as her leggings and the training jacket are, she can’t hold a diplomatic meeting dressed this way.

When she arrives in her cabin, she hangs her jacket over her desk chair. Her long black locks are getting fumbled into a bun before she takes the captain attire out of her small closet. After all this time it still feels wrong to wear what should have been Andersons uniform.

Shep takes a look in the mirror for a second, trying to calm her nerves. As much as she dispides the idea of her being the one who has to beg the other species for help, all of this bullshit has its perks, she'll finally see Wrex again.

But even though Alexis is looking forward to it, she wished it would be under different circumstances. This is going to suck, no matter the outcome. And she has to stay neutral and diplomatic, both are attributes she was always lacking of. She is a soldier, not a politician, she should be fighting alongside with Anderson on earth and not trying to form a alliance between three species, that are hostile towards each other for centuries.

Traynors voice sounds over the speakers, breaking the Shepards train of thought. “Commander, the salarian Dalatrass and the krogan Clan-Chief are ready to come aboard.”

“Have them brought to the conference room, I’ll join in a second.” Shepard buttoms up her formal jacket and checks her reflection one final time before turning to leave her cabin.

Usually she’d be mad that their elevator is taking so long but right now she is thankful for every second she can stay in its small space. But eventually it opens its doors with a woosh, releasing her.

Traynor nods at her Commander with a compassionate smile on her face. Shepard smiles back but it doesn’t reach her eyes. It's uncharacteristically quiet on the deck, everyone is on high alert. The tension is sickening. The two Privates in the scan area salute Shepard as she slowly passes them. They are also absolute quiet.

When nearing the final door to the conference room, Wrex and the Dalatrass can already be heard arguing. Loudly. Alexis takes a deep breath before she opens the door to join them.

The Dalatrass is pacing around. “The krogan is in no position to make demands!”

Wrex just folds his arms unimpressed. “The krogan has a name, Urdnot Wrex. And I am not just some junkyard varren you unleash whenever you’re in trouble."

Perfect. They've just stared and are already on each others throats. Shepard takes her spot at the table, returning to her commander face but the moment her grey eyes lock with Wrex red ones, Shepard can't help but let a tiny smile slip through. The krogan acknowledges her arrival with a nod. Not what Shepard expected after they have been apart for almost six months but considering the circumstances and the audience it is more than she can ask for.

Wrex eyes stay on her a few seconds longer before he continues. “I’ve got my own problems. Reaper scouts have arrived on Tuchanka. So why should I care if a few turians go extinct?”

Primarch Victus mirrors Wrex posture, not impressed either. “Trying to draw out negotiations will get you nowhere, Wrex. I have no time for it! Just tell us what you want for your help.”

The Clan-Chief leans on the table and turns his red eyes to the Dalatrass. “I’ll tell you what I need. A cure for the genophage!”

The eyes of the salarian go wide in shock, everyone at the table is surprised by Wrex demand. Alexis decides to keep her mouth shut, but not so the Dalatrass. “Oh, Absolutely not! The genophage is non negotiable!”

"Wanna bet? Sur'Kesh is still untouched but I wonder how long that will be the case." Wrex voice is dropping even lower. It almost sounds like a threat, making Shepard finally join in.

"Dalatrass, the genophage should be discussed. You can't expect Wrex to sacrifice the krogan race like that! I understand you are opposed with the idea but we are past problems like the krogan rebellion. We have worse to fear.”

But the other woman waves her off. “You are not in the position to say that, Shepard. My people know them best.”

Wrex sneers at her. “According to you no one is in the position to do shit. You used us to fight a war you couldn't win. It wasn’t any of your species or the asari that stopped the rachni. It was krogan blood that turned the tide!”

“Yes.” The Dalatrass admits. “And after that you ceased to be useful! The genophage was the only way to keep your ‘urges’ in check.”

If Wrex eyes could light fire, the salarian would be a pile of ash. Shepard can see how hard he is holding himself back. Back in the day, he would have jumped over the table and snap the womans neck.

Victus interferes, “Dalatrass, you may not like him but Wrex is right. Insulting him won’t change that."

But she just waves him off as well. “I won't apologize for speaking the truth. We uplifted the krogan to do one thing: wage war. It is all they know because it is all we wanted them to know.”

Shepard has to sigh in annoyance again, this is leading nowhere. “Yeah, I think we all went to school and learned about the rachni war, your people's morals behind their actions is a matter to debate but not here-

“I won’t let history repeat!” The Dalatrass interrupts. “Cure the genophage and you doom us all.”

Shepard has enough of this overly dramatic woman. “Whether you like it or not, we all need krogan help to win this war! And obviously and quite understandably they won't fight to extinction, not for you, not for me. They and with that we need a cure!"

“And then what once it is over? We'll simply trade one enemy for another. There won’t be peace because krogans don’t know how-”

Victus slams his fist on the table in frustration “Enough! This is all theoretical. It would take years to formulate a cure. Time we simply don’t have.”

Wrex huffs a sarcastic laugh. “My information says otherwise.” He moves from his spot to the small console on the desk in front of Shepard. While typing in some codes he continues. “A salarian scientist, Maelon. He was on my planet testing a cure on our females.”

He turns his face to Shepard. “You met him.”

She nods. “Yeah and I remember his methods to be baberic.”

“But what you didn’t know is that other females survived his experiments.” He opens up a file and the screen behind them starts to play a video. It shows secret recordings in a salarian laboratory, krogan females locked away in small glass cabins.

“So…” Wrex continues. “The Dalatrass sent in a team to clean up the whole mess and to take them prisoners.”

Oh no. That’s not good. Shepard and Wrex turn to the Dalatrass who seems to be lost for words. “Where did you get this? This could be just a fabrication!”

Wrex storms to her, glaring at her with fury in his eyes. “Don’t dare to insult me! Those are my people and they are immune to the genophage. And you. Give. Them. Back!”

Shepard steps in between them before it escalates, she gently pushes Wrex back who looks at her for a moment before he retreats.

The Primarch leaves his spot as well. “Dalatrass, is this really true?”

But she isn’t answering, instead she ignores both men and turns to Shepard. “How will a cure benefit my people?”

Okay, fuck diplomats and fuck being biased.

“What the hell, are you really that blind? Pallavan is burning right now, Earth is burning right now! And so will Sur'kesh, Thessia and every other damn planet in this galaxy if we won’t cement this alliance. The genophage is going on for almost fifteen-thousand years, the krogan paid for the rebellion, a lot has changed since then! They deserve to be cured.”

The Primarch agrees. “She is right. The hard truth is we don’t have a choice.” He steps closer to the salarian. “Give Wrex what he wants.”

But the Dalatrass just keeps looking at Shepard. "I'm the blind one? Actually I'm afraid your 'sympathy' towards krogans is clouding your judgment."

And here they go. Shepard figured it would be only a matter of time for one of them to bring up their relationship. She wants to answer but Wrex is faster than her.

"Shut the fuck up! Dragging private affairs into this discussion to save your own skin, we all agreed for the Normandy to be the neutral ground, so treat it that way!"

Shepard tries again, in a now calmer voice. “Dalatrass, see that way. Either a cure or a harvested galaxy. Your call."

The salarian woman sighs, finally realising she has been defeated. “The females are being kept at one of our STG bases on Sur'kesh.” She turns to face Shepard again. “But I warn you, Commander. The consequences of this will be felt for centuries to come!”

“Fine by me.” Shepard simply says as she rounds the table to get to the exit “They’ll be nothing compared to what happens if the Reapers win.”

Wrex smiles at his human. “Let's get the my women.”

But the Dalatrass interferes again “You are not setting foot on Sur'kesh! This will take time to-”

“Now!” Victus growls. “It happens now. As a Council Spectre, Shepard can oversee the exchange.”

After a moment of silence all three turn and leave the Dalatrass alone but she speaks up again one final time to threaten Shepard. “I won’t forget this, Commander. A bully has few friends when he needs them most!”

Now it's Alexis time to wave the Dalatrass off with her hand before the door closes behind her. It won't be Shepard, who’ll have to face the Reapers on her own, it’s the salarians if they won’t cooperate.

When the they enter the CIC, both Victus and Wrex turn around to talk to her at the same time. Wrex glares at Victus while trying to dwarf him by looming over the turian. It's obviously a threatening attempt and Victus is getting the hint. He tells Shepard, that he has important business with her to discuss and asks her to see him once she and the Clan-Chief are 'done'.

Both her and Wrex are looking after him, waiting for him to get out of earshot. When the krogan is certain no one dares to listen to them, he returns his focus back to the Commander. “I have to talk with you. One to one, business related, but that can wait.”

Shepard raises an eyebrow in question. “Uhm, okay. Then why did you scare off the Primarch?”

He comes a step closer, entering her personal space. “Private matters.”

Alexis can't help but snort a laugh. “Very smooth, Wrex.” She hopes no one can see the blush of her face when she's making her way to the galaxy map to order Traynor to set course to Sur'Kesh once the Dalatrass passed the exact position of the lab with the krogan women.

Wrex is already standing in the elevator waiting for his human. His eyes are not leaving hers. The blush intensifies and her heart is picking up speed. Wrex ruby eyes always did things to her but right now it's all her mind can think about.

Finally dropping her Commander face, she joins him, smiling from ear to ear. The Clan-Chief slams his fist on the button for Shepards cabin, not paying any attention to the startled humans on deck. Once the doors are closed, they can have the reunion both were looking forward to.

#ao3 #mass effect #mass effect 3 #shepard x wrex #Wrex #urdnot wrex #sfw #fanic

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evalinkatrineberg · 4 years

Text

Questions

A/N: This is the product of challenge 3 side RPs done with @hugo-stanton and @arin-schreave . I feel compelled to mention that Evalin has definitely NEVER read 50 Shades of Grey before. With that, I’ll leave you to it!

I really didn’t have much of a clue as to what was going on. The note, once again, had arrived while I was out of the room - probably when I had been in the library studying, or perhaps when I had been out running, or talking to Idalia, or doing other tasks that demanded my attention. Regardless, all I knew was that my maids were now getting me ready for someone to take photos of me this afternoon at the beach. I couldn’t help but wonder why photos were only being taken now, so far into the Selection already, but perhaps it really wasn’t my place to question this. There must be a good reason, anyway.

The other question I had was how appropriate my appearance was for the setting of these photographs. Grace had insisted that I needed to wear heels to this photography session, but I was having trouble discerning a logical explanation for her assertion. The photos were to be taken on a beach, after all. Grace must have never tried to walk in a pair of heels in the sand, because it was near impossible to do. I had managed to take all of three steps before stopping dead in my tracks and leaning down, undoing the thin straps of the heels and deciding to just walk barefoot with them in my hand until I found this photographer.

The other issue with my appearance at the moment was the fact that my hair was completely down, loose and unbound, the wind tossing it every which way, specifically right in my face. A few strands kept finding their way to my lips, which led me to believe that my makeup was probably wonderfully smudged already. The whole look was rather impractical. That was fine, though. I supposed I just had to get this over with.

Shielding my eyes from the sun, I caught sight of someone - a man - crouching by a log, holding a camera up to his face. Deciding that he must be the photographer, I dropped my hand, tucking the same loose strands of hair behind my ears for the umpteenth time and looking down at the sand as I walked, intent on avoiding stepping on anything sharp. I really didn’t need to bleed in front of another man while I was here. Once was more than enough. I didn’t need to make that a habit.

“Hello,” I called as I approached, offering the photographer a small wave as my eyes flitted between the sand beneath my feet and his face. Something about him was unsettlingly familiar, but I couldn’t quite place what it was.

It’s probably nothing.

The photographer lowered his camera, looking up at me and rising to his feet with a smile on his face. “Hi, Evalin,” he began, extending his hand towards me. “I’m Hugo.”

So he knew my name, then. Funny how some people were good with that sort of information, whereas others had only learned my name after a few weeks of us living under the same roof. Hugo probably met a lot of people in his line of work, though, I figured, so he had probably had to get good at memorizing names.

“It’s nice to meet you, Hugo.” I shook his hand, offering him another smile before pulling my hand back and leaning down to put on my shoes, not dropping his eye contact as I did. My fingers fumbled with the straps. Damn them for being so tiny. “Sorry about this - sand and heels don’t mix, apparently!”

Hugo simply shook his head and waved his hand dismissively at my shoes. “Oh, you can leave them off if you like. I imagine they’re not very comfortable.”

“Oh.” I had to laugh at that. He was right, of course, but his answer still surprised me a little nonetheless. I wasn’t about to argue with him, though, so I placed my shoes in the sand, quickly making a mental note of what they were near. There was the log, and a small grouping of rocks. It shouldn’t be too hard to find this spot again. “Okay, yeah, that’s a lot easier for me, thank you!” Looking at him once more, I clasped my hands together in front of me. “So, is there something in particular you want me to do right now? I don’t really know how this works.”

I didn’t even know what I was doing here, to be honest. Was this something I had signed up for? I had no memory of doing so, but maybe I had signed some paper or another without even thinking about it, distracted by the million and one other things I had to do. The policy proposal was demanding most of my mental focus at the moment. I didn’t feel like it was as far reaching enough as it could be, or far reaching enough to make much of an impact at all, but I couldn’t come up with a solution that would rectify that before the damned thing was due. I could only hope that what I had come up with was satisfactory enough to keep me around here for at least a little while longer.

Long enough to receive another kiss from Arin, maybe.

God, I was the hopeless one, wasn’t I?

I snapped back out of my thoughts as Hugo nodded, smiling at me. “Why don’t you sit down on the log and we’ll take it from there?”

I was pretty confident in my ability to do that. “Sure.” I smiled back at him, brushing the wrinkles out of my dress once I had taken a seat on the log. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable chair, but it wasn’t too unbearable. I could handle it. Still, chatter might be a welcome way to distract myself, and it seemed like Hugo might be a better conversationalist than some of the other people I had been talking to recently. It was worth a shot. “So, what got you into photography, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Hugo took a few steps backwards before taking a seat on the sand, crossing his legs like a pretzel. He began to fiddle with his camera, instantly drawing my attention to the device. It looked nice, though I didn’t know the first thing about photography, so I could have been very incorrect about that. I was willing to bet that he was adjusting the settings, though, to account for the lighting of the beach. “My aunt used to be in the film industry,” he finally answered, “so that’s where it came from, I think.”

“That’s so cool!” I responded with a smile. Had his aunt worked as a camerawoman, then? I was close to recommending that he talk to Indie, since that seemed right up her alley, but something had me biting my tongue, keeping my advice at bay. “You’ve been doing this for quite a while, then?” I asked instead.

“A few years,” he replied with a shrug, lifting his head to look at me once more.

“Oh.” I inclined my head slightly to the right, narrowing my eyes at him ever so slightly, as if I could pull the answers I sought out of him with my vision alone. Most of the Fives I had met had begun pursuing their craft at a younger age, in their early teens, mostly, in order to perfect it by the time they were young adults. My own mother had done just that, based on the stories of her childhood that she’d shared with my siblings and I. How had he made a living before finding photography? He looked young enough, sure, but definitely a good few years older than me. Maybe he just looked older than he actually was, though.

My curiosity got the better of me. “Did you have another job before this, then?”

Hugo shook his head, looking at me with an expression that showed me that I had just caught him red-handed. So, he hadn’t, then. Interesting, indeed! “Does being a student count as a job?”

I was only growing more confused with each answer he gave me. He had had enough money to go to school for photography, or at least that was what I assumed he had studied, and yet he hadn’t held a job before then? That was practically unheard of for a Five. I could only imagine the reaction my mother would have when I shared this story with her.

I laughed a little at his response, then, pushing my own prying questions aside in the interest of being polite. “I’d argue yes, but as a student myself, I think I’m a bit biased.”

His camera was already up, the shutter flashing, as he captured his desired image. Still, he continued the conversation nonetheless. “What are you in school for?”

“Biology, actually.” Maybe I can use this as a segue into my own questions. “What about you - what did you study?” Perhaps he was simply an insanely wealthy Two or Three - a lawyer, or an engineer, perhaps - who had discovered he had a passion for photography, and had picked it up as a hobby. I was interested in why the palace would hire him, then, as opposed to a Five who did this sort of work to make a living, especially since Princess Mélanie seemed so sympathetic to the plight of the lower castes, from what I had seen and heard of her work.

“Arts,” Hugo answered, snapping another photo before continuing, “but some strings had to be pulled to make that happen, so I’m not sure how fair it is I had the opportunity.”

“Well,” I began, unsure of how to respond to that. All I knew was that I could not allow myself to frown, even if it was only in consternation. That would not look pleasing in a picture. I shifted my position a bit, doing my best to keep my face down and hidden as I considered my next words. “If that’s your passion, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to pursue it.”

I wholeheartedly believed that statement. It was actually somewhat related to the policy proposal I had saved in my drafts on my computer, though different enough that his experience couldn’t be used as an example of how my proposed policy could be beneficial to Illéa as a whole.

Once again, Hugo shrugged. “I’m happy enough,” he reassured me, smiling as he pulled the camera away from his face.

“That’s good.” I nodded back at him, my smile falling a bit and my eyes narrowing as I considered his words. Happy enough, but not happy. What was holding him back from that last bit of contentment, then? Did he really feel so guilty about studying the arts in university that it kept him from being completely happy?

The sound of waves crashing against the short pulled my attention away from him then, and I turned to watch them roll in, and then flow back out, pulled by a force none of us could see. As if in response, some strands of my hair flew out from behind my ears, blowing in the direction of the waves. I smiled a bit as I pushed them back where I wanted them to be, though it was starting to get on my nerves. Despite that, I could hear the shutter of Hugo’s camera, and decided it was best to keep my negative emotions at bay for the time being. Maybe I needed more sleep, or maybe just more time to relax, but either way, I shouldn’t take it out on Hugo, or the photos. He had been nothing but kind, no matter how confused his tales of his life left me.

I heard him standing up, and before I could fully drag my attention away from the waves, he had already made his way over to me, his hand held out towards me, palm upwards. “Why don’t we go down by the water?”

I placed my hand in his, feeling a faint blush form on my face at the touch. His hands were smooth - practically uncalloused. This man hadn’t done a day of hard labor in his life, and he definitely had never played a string instrument, that much I was almost one-hundred percent certain of. Who was he?

I pushed that aside yet again, instead offering him a, “Thank you,” as I rose to my feet, shaking my head as I looked back at the water. “That’d be nice. It’s been so long since I’ve actually been to the beach. I don’t know why I haven’t come down here sooner.”

“It’s pretty nice down here,” he agreed, looking out at the water himself now. He pointed a finger off towards the expanse of beach that lay to my right. “If you go down that way maybe ten to fifteen minutes, there’s a little lagoon.”

I followed his finger, squinting as if that would somehow magically bring the lagoon into view. It was definitely too far for me to see. It was foolish to even try. Still, maybe I could incorporate it into some of my morning runs, if I could find it. It’d be nice to shake up my route a little bit, anyway, and dipping my feet in the water would probably feel really good after running in the dry, Angeles heat. “I’ll have to keep that in mind, thank you!” Turning to him then, I smiled, and asked, “Are there any razor clams around there? Those things used to scare me like nothing else whenever I went to the beach as a kid.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the memory. Maybe scared wasn’t the right word - startled was more like it. As a child, I had somehow managed to convince myself that being hit by the water those stupid little clams squirted into the air whenever somebody got too close would hurt like a bee sting, or being hit by a water balloon. I had often clung to my father’s arm whenever one of my brothers called out that they had found some razor clams, doing whatever it took to circumnavigate my way to the ocean, just to avoid being hit by the clams’ water. It was so silly of me, but I had been a rather skittish kid.

Hugo sucked in a breath before answering. “Gosh, I don’t know. I’m not the right person to ask. That’s more Arin’s thing.”

Arin had a thing for marine ecology? I raised an eyebrow, remembering the questions Reggie had asked me in the library all those weeks ago. Was that somehow related to this new revelation about Arin’s interest? Hell, the fact that he had actual interests outside of running the country was news to me. I chucked a bit as I stepped into the water. “Really? Interesting! I’ll have to keep that in mind then.”

Wait a minute. How does Hugo know that?

I narrowed my eyes at the photographer, furrowing my brows. “How do you know him?” If he had only been a photographer for a few years, he couldn’t be the one responsible for most of the royal photographs I had seen prior to coming here. He shouldn’t have had enough time to build up such a casual rapport with Arin - comfortable enough to call him by only his first name, with no title or honorific.

Who the hell was this guy?

He shot me an expression that was somewhere between sheepish and guilty as he admitted, “We’re cousins.”

Oh, maybe that’s why his face looks kind of familiar, then.

My eyes went a little wide, and I covered my mouth with my hand for a moment, trying my best to hide the shock that was undoubtedly still evident on my face. Once I had taken a second to compose myself again, I pulled my hand away from my face. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! I had no clue!”

“Why are you sorry?” His confusion was written all over his face. Unlike his cousin, he wore his emotions openly, it seemed. “If I ran into one of your cousins, I wouldn’t know who they were unless they told me.”

I looked around for a moment, attempting to come up with a response. “Yeah, but…” I trailed off. My family isn’t famous, or royalty, and I don’t have any cousins. I couldn’t blurt that out without thinking. I had to learn to stem the flow of my words before they seriously got me in trouble one of these days. So I looked at him again, offering a small smile and waving my hand through the air. “Never mind,” I decided, turning to look down at the water as it lapped at my feet. It was a lot colder than I had expected it would be.

Hugo didn’t respond, instead taking a few steps backwards and fiddling with his camera again, which now hung around his neck. I looked back over my shoulder at him. Maybe I should try a new topic of conversation, then. “Have you lived in Angeles your whole life?”

He shook his head, his body going still as he lined up his next shot. “No, I was born in France, actually. Have you lived in your province your whole life?”

For someone who had supposedly grown up abroad, he didn’t have much of a discernible accent, at least not to me. Then again, maybe I was just used to my grandfather’s thick Northern Swendish accent. There were times that I could barely understand what he was trying to say when he endeavored to speak English. Hugo didn’t seem to have that difficulty, though. He must have had a great education, then.

I nodded in response to his question. “During the school year, yes. When we were younger, though, my parents would send my siblings and I to Swendway with our grandparents for the summer. They still have this little cabin near Tromsø, but they don't like to live there year round because of how cold it gets. It’s fun in the summer, though, because the sun never sets.”

I could feel my smile growing as I spoke, the memories of my childhood summers flooding back all at once. My grandfather loved to take my siblings and I out on a little sailboat he had docked at the local marina. We’d all do our best to distract him so he didn’t realize how late it was getting, and then whenever he did realize, we’d inform him that we couldn’t possibly go to bed yet, because the sun was still up. He’d always chuckled at our mischief, but I was sure he must have gotten tired of it after a while. Yet, neither he nor my grandmother had ever reprimanded any of us. I missed those summers. It had been ages since any of us had been back, thanks to the ongoing conflict with Swendway. It wasn’t exactly the safest place for an Illéan to travel at the moment, much to my own disappointment.

A new light shone in Hugo’s eyes once I had finished regaling him with the tales of my summers past. “That must be beautiful. I only ever visited Swendway once before…” he trailed off, leaving his sentence unfinished.

What had happened when he had gone to Swendway?

I tilted my head a bit to the right, keeping my smile in tact as I asked, “When?”

“I was a teenager,” he answered, his own smile reappearing now. It wasn’t much of an answer, seeing as I didn’t know how old he was, but I assumed that that had to mean it was before the relations between Illéa and Swendway had taken a turn for the worse.

“Me too,” I replied, laughing a little, “though I guess that’s not saying much in terms of how long ago it was. We stopped going once my older siblings started heading off to college. Timing got too complicated, and all that. So it’s been a few years.” Or so that was the reason my parents had fed me when I was fourteen. It felt like a safer explanation to give him, somehow. “Where in Swendway did you go?”

“Geirangerfjord,” he answered smoothly. A hint of hesitation crept over his face then, and in a more tense tone of voice, he added, “and Stockholm, of course.”

“Naturally,” I replied, nodding. It only made sense that he had been to the capital of Swendway. My own father had grown up there, mostly, thanks to my grandfather’s job. It was a lovely city, based on what I had been told by both my father and his parents, with cobbled streets and some buildings over hundreds of years old. Now, though, I could understand why visiting there could be a point of contention. I’d better change the subject again. “Sounds like you’ve had the chance to travel a lot!”

He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I have, and I’d love to go back.”

“Me too, one day,” I agreed, looking up at the sky and gesturing around a bit with my right hand. “I’ve got other things to do first, though.” I looked back at him then, laughing a bit, though it felt more forced than it had before. There was so much to do at this point in my life. Weren’t you supposed to gain more freedom as you grew up? It certainly didn’t feel that way to me.

Hugo laughed along. “I think we all have a lot we want to do.”

“Of course,” I replied smoothly, flashing him a joking smile as I turned to face him more, gently kicking a little of the water in the process. “We just need a time machine to do it all.”

“A time machine?” He cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit as he looked at me.

“I mean, there’s just so much to do, and so little time to try and do it all,” I attempted to explain. It was an age-old problem, I had supposed, but maybe it wasn’t as relatable as I had thought. I cleared my throat, looking up at the sky, holding my left hand over my eyes to shield them from the sun. My hair tickled the bare skin of my neck as the wind blew it backwards this time, out of my face. That wasn’t my main concern as I took in the rapidly darkening sky, though. “Are those storm clouds?”

He looked up as well then, nodding once as he took in the sky. “Looks like it. That blew in quickly, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I frowned as I made my way back out of the water. In Carolina, it wasn’t uncommon for storms to pop up and then dissipate within the span of a couple of hours, especially during the summer, but I hadn’t seen that happen here, yet. I had a feeling we were in for a long afternoon and evening of much needed precipitation. “I think this will actually be the first time it’s rained since I’ve been here.”

Hugo glanced down at his camera, a frown forming on his face. “Maybe we should head back.”

“Yeah, that seems like the best idea,” I agreed, already making my way up the beach towards my shoes. “Your camera looks very nice, and I’d hate for it to get damaged.”

“It’s just a thing, but I’d love it if it didn’t get wet,” he called after me, following me up the beach. So, he wasn’t incredibly materialistic, then. Each word that came out of his mouth was like another piece of a puzzle, but instead of the pieces coming together to form a clear picture of Hugo, none of them seemed to quite fit together.

I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Entirely understandable.”

“Well,” he began, his pace speeding up as he attempted to close the distance between us, “if we’re quick, it won’t be an issue.”

A bit ironic that that’s coming from the guy who’s trying to catch up with me, isn’t it?

“Good thing I like to run, then!” I replied with a laugh.

Hugo just made a face at that. “I don’t run. Speed walking is the most you’ll get from me.”

At this point, I had kind of figured that out, but I laughed anyway as I looked at him over my shoulder once again. “Ah, but you’re tall.” It was true. He couldn’t have been more than an inch shorter than Arin. “That makes up for the speed difference.”

“I’m pretty sure multiple people would disagree with you,” he replied with a small laugh.

I raised an eyebrow, my chest still rising and falling with silent laughter. I hadn’t met his entire family yet, but they didn’t seem like giants compared to him. “What, are you a stop and smell the roses kind of guy?”

He waited a few seconds before responding, and then settled on, “I’ve never had anyone say that about me, but I guess I am.” With that, he began to hum thoughtfully, his mind no doubt embarking on a small journey of self-reflection over a sentence I hadn’t even thought about as it had flown out of my mouth.

I offered him a reassuring smile. “Nothing wrong with appreciating the small wonders of life! Sometimes it’s nice to just be able to take your time and really enjoy something.” That was quite possibly the most hypocritical thing to ever come out of my mouth. “Though, it doesn’t seem like many of us get to do that anymore.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed, glancing over his shoulder to check on the clouds, which were blotting out more of the sky now. We really needed to get a move on to save his camera. Yet, he turned back to me, and asked, “What do you take your time on?”

I pursed my lips, mulling it over. What did I take my time to enjoy, anymore? Sure, I enjoyed my studies, and could easily lose myself in the details of them, but it was still something I did in part out of necessity, and not entirely for fun. “I used to like watching ballets,” I admitted, attempting to remember what it had felt like to watch one, years ago when I had in high school, “and taking time to enjoy every detail that went into making the production as a whole so breathtaking, but I’m afraid it’s been a while since I’ve done that.” I too turned to look up at the clouds now, rubbing my right forearm with my left hand. I didn’t know why admitting that one detail about myself had left me feeling so exposed - vulnerable, even - yet I found myself half tempted to find an excuse to run away from the conversation.

“Angeles has a pretty fantastic ballet company, if you ever have the time to go.” The corners of his lips tugged upwards into a grin, something sparking in his eyes as he spoke. “You could have Arin take you sometime.”

Bold of you to assume that I “could,” have Arin do anything he doesn’t explicitly want to do himself.

Despite the fact that I was beginning to wonder if Hugo and I were in fact referring to the same person when we said, “Arin,” I found myself smiling at the idea. “I would quite like that, if he ever has the chance. He seems pretty busy, usually, though.” When he’s not drinking, or kissing girls. “Not that I can blame him! It’s just difficult to get to know someone when you’ve only accidentally bumped into them twice, and been on one date that was more a series of unfortunate incidents than it was a date.”

God, why was I telling him this?

He raised an eyebrow at me. “I don’t catch what you mean, sorry.”

That was probably for the better. I waved my hand through the air as best I could while still holding my shoes. They bounced against each other, the sound of them knocking together hollower than I had thought it would be. “Don’t worry about it! The ballet sounds lovely, and I really hope I get the chance to go at some point.”

“Just ask him,” he reiterated, flashing me a reassuring smile, “it can’t hurt.”

“Fair enough,” I said with a nervous laugh. Maybe he was right. Was it worth the risk, though, was the question holding me back.

Something wet landed on my arm then, prompting me to stop where I stood, only a few meters away from the palace doors. Rain. When was the last time I had felt the rain on my skin? May, maybe? Definitely sometime before I had come to Angeles. That felt like so much longer than only a little over a month ago.

Beside me, Hugo had stopped as well, looking up at the sky as a few drops landed on his face. A stop and smell the roses kind of guy, indeed. That much was painfully obvious now. I looked away, revelling in the feeling of the rain on my own face. Without even thinking, I wandered a little further away from the doors, walking in a small circle as I looked upwards at the clouds. I had never noticed how much I had taken something as simple as the rain for granted.

“As much as I’d love to stay out here in the rain, my camera wouldn’t.”

I spun around to look back at him, my skirt swirling around me as I did, only to find him staring right back at me, a small smile on his face. “Right, of course.” I felt myself begin to blush again, though I was doing my best to convince myself that the blood wasn’t rushing to my face simply at the thought of him watching me as I was lost in thought. I walked over towards the doors, intent on getting the door for him, since he was holding something valuable, and I only had my shoes in my hands, which I should probably put back on now, anyways. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen the rain, and I got a little distracted.”

“You can stay, if you like,” he offered, shrugging and then laughing a little. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your chance to see the rain.”

I shook my head as I reached for the door handle. As much as I would have liked to stay in the rain, I knew it would be a poor decision to do so. “I appreciate it, but I shouldn’t. I’m afraid there’s other things I should be doing instead.” A certain policy proposal was still sitting on my laptop, having undergone only one round of edits thus far. I really wanted it to be as good as I could possibly make it, if only to make a lasting impression on whoever was judging our proposals. Maybe they’d put in a good word for me. That’d be nice.

“Well, then hopefully it rains again sometime when you don’t have things to do.”

I looked down, attempting to hide my frown at his words as I opened the door and stepped inside, holding it open with one hand for him to grab. What did he mean by that? Did I really seem that obsessed with the rain? It was probably nothing. I was probably overthinking it. “One of these days, maybe.”

I let go of the door once I felt that he had grabbed it. “Thank you,” he said from behind me. I turned to face him then, watching him shake his head like a dog in an effort to dislodge some of the raindrops that lingered in his hair as the door closed shut behind him.

I brushed my fingers through my own hair, smiling a bit as I watched him. What an odd man. Still, he was rather nice, and that was very much appreciated. “Well, I know that didn’t go exactly as planned, but thank you.”

“No, thank you,” he responded, smiling as well. “I really appreciate how willing you were to help out.”

I felt my smile widen a bit, even as I slowly began to back down the hallway, clasping my hands in front of me. “Right, well, I should probably get going, but thank you again!”

“Have a good rest of your day, Evalin.” He turned to head down the hallway in another direction, looking over his shoulder at the last moment to add, “I'll see you around.”

“You too!” I turned away then, intent on making it up to my room and changing out of my slightly damp dress as quickly as possible. My thoughts kept flitting from Hugo’s words, to the advice he had given me about asking Arin to take me to the ballet, and then back to the work I should undoubtedly be doing instead of thinking of all this. Maybe I could multitask, though - write Arin a letter, and then get some work done as I waited for his reply. Yes, that seemed reasonable.

As soon as I was changed into a dry, more casual dress, and no longer wearing heels, I began drafting my letter to Arin. A letter seemed like the way to go - it was more polite than just barging into his office unannounced, that was for sure. Plus, it gave Julia the time to braid my hair as I wrote, which was probably for the better, since my hair had gotten more unruly than usual, after getting wet. I smiled down at my letter after finishing, looking it over briefly for any spelling errors.

Your Highness,

You never did get around to giving me your book recommendations. We should rectify that quickly, I think.

Sincerely,

Lady Evalin

PS - I have some questions about local marine life, if you have a moment or two to entertain them.

Hugo’s comments about Arin being knowledgeable about marine life had stuck with me. It would be kind of nice to see Arin speak passionately about something other than his woes or his own moral dilemmas. Seeing him so enthralled by my notes in the library had been fun, for sure, but that had been more of my passion than his. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was a topic that got him talking like my work got me talking.

Satisfied with my letter, I smiled at Christina, beckoning her closer with a hand gesture. As she approached, I folded the letter in half, smiling at her again before handing the letter to her. “Could you please take this to the prince?”

Christina raised an eyebrow back at me, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. “The prince? Why, of course, Evalin! It would be my pleasure.”

I laughed a little, drumming my fingers along the top of my computer and saying a quick, “Thank you! I knew I could count on you,” as she departed.

Julia had just finished with my hair, and I had barely even gotten my computer booted up when Christina scurried back in, stopping beside me and placing a small, folded square of paper on my keyboard. Her grin was infectious, and I found myself chuckling as I unfolded the letter.

Evalin,

What kind of book are you looking for?

P.S. I’m not an expert on marine life but if you’d like to ask me I’ll do my best to answer.

-Arin

I had to snort a little at his formatting. What fool put the post-script before signing his name? Still, it was nice of him to offer to answer. Pulling out another sheet of paper from my desk drawer, I quickly scrawled a reply, before folding it and handing it to Christina to repeat the process again.

Arin,

I believe you said you could recommend some books on history?

The marine life part came up in a recent conversation where I asked somebody about whether or not there are razor clams on the beaches here, and I was advised to ask you.

Thank you in advance,

Evalin

Mentioning Hugo by name felt wrong, somehow, as if admitting I had spoken with Arin’s cousin would somehow put Arin on edge. I knew it was ridiculous to think that, but I still couldn’t help but feel like I should be careful about dropping names.

Christina returned with Arin’s reply in a matter of minutes. It appeared I wasn’t going to get much editing done on my proposal, at this rate.

Evalin,

“2024: Wallis’ War” might be an interesting place to start. It gives you a peek into what life was before Illéa.

As for razor clams, no. The furthest south you can find them is about 20 miles north of the Angeles and Sonage border.

-Arin

I quickly wrote the name of the book down on a post-it note, and then pulled out another paper to write a reply.

Arin,

I’m assuming I’d be able to find this book in the library? It sounds quite interesting! Might I send some light reading your way while I’m there - only if you’re interested, of course!

Ah, sad about the clams!

Thank you for your reply,

Evalin

I truly wasn’t sure where I had even planned on going with the line of questioning about the razor clams. Was I going to drag him out to the beach with me, to watch me laugh as they squirted up water? How ridiculous! It was probably for the better that they weren’t native to this area.

Evalin,

Yes.

-Arin

I assumed that his reply was to both of my questions. It looked like I was going to the library, then. With a small sigh, I closed my laptop, rubbing my hands on dress once before picking the post-it note with the book title off my desk. Life before Illéa. It was such a strange concept to me. Obviously, I knew Illéa hadn’t been a country since the dawn of time, but 2024 didn’t sound like it was that long ago, if I was being honest. It was only six years before my father was born. Had he been alive before the creation of Illéa? I frowned, wrinkling my nose as I realized that I’d never thought about that before.

It didn’t take me long to find the book once I got to the library. Despite the gargantuan size of the palace library, it was still organized using the same system as every other library I had been to during my lifetime. The book itself seemed decent in size - not huge, but thick enough to keep me busy for a couple of days, for sure. Once the book was safely tucked under my arm, I made my way over to where I expected the scientific journals to be. Arin had seemed somewhat interested in my notes, the last time we had spoken. Maybe he’d enjoy some of my the work I had helped publish under Proctor.

I knelt down, immediately finding the first two articles I had contributed to. Those were the two I had expected to find. Both of them - one with a red cover, and the other with a blue cover - contained the results of experiments that Proctor had come up with. I had merely helped her with the analysis and by proofreading her findings, once she had written them up. I was almost surprised to find the third, though. It’s black cover caught my eye just as I was about to turn around and stand again. That journal contained the results of an experiment that I had come up with, that I had practically begged Proctor to let me run in her lab, under her guidance, of course. It hadn’t been a success by any big, discernable margins, but having her say yes to my proposed experiment had still been one of my proudest moments to date. I quickly snagged that journal off the shelf too, stacking the three journals on top of the book Arin had recommended me.

I debated just heading back to my room, and having Christina just run the journals down to Arin’s office along with another note. It wasn’t like they were particularly heavy - they were rather flimsy, as a matter of fact. Yet, I still felt a pang of guilt about making her run what would likely turn into yet another chain of messages between Arin and I. It was probably just easier for me to bring him the journals myself.

I stopped outside the door of his office, taking a deep breath. He had seemed so adamant about not wanting me in his office the night we had drank bourbon together in the hallway. Maybe this was a bad idea. It was too late to turn back now, though. I knocked three times, staring at the door as I waited to see if it would open.

“Come in!”

It seemed he wasn’t going to come get the door, then. With a small frown, I juggled the books in my hands, shifting them so they were held up by my left hip and arm, opening the door with my right hand. Arin was sitting at his desk, his head down, pen in hand.

Oh, crap. I just hoped whatever he was working on wasn’t classified, or super important.

I kept my voice soft as I spoke, taking care to close the door as quietly as possible. “Hi,” I began, tossing a timid smile in his direction, even though he wasn’t looking at me. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, but I came by to drop off the reading I mentioned to you earlier. There’s three different articles in these journals that I contributed to, and since you seemed interested in my notes and textbook the last time I saw you, I thought you might be interested in these, too.”

At the sound of my voice, he looked up, his eyes going wide for the briefest moment as he shot to his feet so quickly I thought he might knock over his chair. “Evalin,” was all he said, brushing his hands on his pants.

I felt my own eyes go wide as I laughed a little at the speed with which he had risen to his feet. It was rather entertaining how startled he always seemed to be by my presence. First in the library, now this. A small part of me hoped it would become a consistent pattern.

“I’ll be sure to be clearer about when I’m coming by next time, I suppose.” Taking a moment to shuffle the books I was holding, I tucked the book he had recommended me under my arm again, and then held the three academic journals out towards him.

He seemed a bit fidgety as he made his way around his desk, coming to a stop in front of me and taking the journals from my hand. What had he been working on before this? What had I interrupted? I was more curious now, seeing his reaction, than I had been before.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt you in the middle of something too important!” I was being genuine, in the sense that I had had no intention of disrupting work that required his utmost attention, but I also kind of hoped that by saying something, I might be able to get him to explain his nervousness, a bit. I had to wonder why he was acting so on edge as it was. He had been the one to tell me to come in, after all. Regardless, it was still fun to see him caught off guard yet again. “I could just go, if you’d like! I just wanted to drop these off for you!”

He looked down at the books that were now in his hands. “Um, thank you.”

“No problem!” I laughed a little again, more nervous this time, but then shook my head. He hadn’t asked or told me to leave, after all. I looked over his shoulder towards his desk, narrowing my eyes at the papers that sat atop it, as if I would somehow be able to make out what was written on them from this distance. “What were you working on, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh,” he began, glancing over his shoulder at his desk before turning to face me again. “Nothing interesting.”

Fine, then. I supposed he was entitled to his secrets.

“Ah okay, just curious! Wanted to make sure I hadn’t interrupted anything important!” I’d already said that, hadn’t I? Shoot! I must have looked like a total fool, desperate for attention.

“Nothing that can’t be done later,” he reassured me, nodding at the journals I had given him. “Besides, this is much more interesting, I’m sure.”

“Ah, it may be!” I offered him a sheepish smile, hoping I hadn’t completely misread his interest in my notes in the library that day. Was he actually genuinely interested in my work, in what I was studying, or had he just been looking for an excuse to kiss me? Perhaps I was a bigger fool than I had thought. Still, the hole I had dug myself was too deep for me to climb out of now. “I only assisted in the articles my professor published in the first two, but I actually came up with the experiment in the third one - the journal with the black cover. I practically had to beg her to let me run it! I bought her coffee, did her busywork, ran her scantrons - anything to get her to say yes!” A small laugh escaped my mouth as I reminisced about those few weeks. Proctor had to have known what I was doing. I was terrible at deceit. I wore my true intentions all over my face every time I interacted with someone, I was afraid. She had still given me the go-ahead in the end, though, so I supposed that all’s well that ends well, and all that.

“That’s dedication,” Arin acknowledged, raising his eyebrows. He then turned away for a moment, setting the journals on his desk in a neat pile, aligning them just-so, similar to how he had carefully placed his book on the library table all those days ago. I was so fascinated by his near obsessive precision that I almost didn’t hear him add, “I’m not sure I’d have the same level of persistence.”

The corners of my lips tugged further upwards at the compliment. He was really feeding my ego today, it seemed. “I was really passionate about that experiment. I thought it’d be the greatest thing since sliced bread, I swear.” I chuckled a little at my own joke. I had come damn close to letting that experiment consume me, if I was being honest, practically living in Proctor’s lab for a couple of months. I would likely never do that again, I realized, my smile falling as I let the thought sink in, even as I continued rambling. “We didn’t think it all the way through, though - like how hard it would be to apply what we did in the lab in an actual human body - so there’s still a lot of future research to be done.” Future research that I likely won’t be allowed to assist in, despite coming up with the original idea. I’d brought that upon myself though, ultimately.

“What’s it on?” He asked, leaning back against his desk.

“Cancer research,” I answered without thinking, my eyes darting between him and the journal for a moment. Was it worth attempting to explain it to him? Looking back at him again, I decided to go for it. “The theory behind it was that maybe if we removed the gene in cancer cells that codes for their rapid reproduction, and inserted the gene that codes for apoptosis - spontaneous cell death - maybe we could stop or slow the spread of the cancer.”

He blinked. That alone told me that there was no way he had completely understood what I had said, but he nodded along regardless. “You think it could work?”

“In theory, yes. In actuality, probably not,” I admitted, shaking my head. “It would be extremely difficult to target individual cells within a person’s body. One solution I proposed to my professor was that maybe we could introduce some virus cells that would only target the cancer cells - like HIV targets immune cells only, kind of - and see if that would kill off the cancer cells. I’d bet actual money that she’s working to put her name to that idea right now.” Even though, once again, I was the one who came up with it. I laughed a little wryly, wondering how I had put up with Proctor’s behavior for as long as I had as I gazed at the journals.

Arin simply nodded. “Well, that’s a shame, then. It could so a lot of people good.”

“Yeah,” I replied, looking back at him then, “that was my hope.” With a shake of my head, decided to change the subject, flashing him a closed-lipped half smile. “But back to your previous point, about persistence - you mean to tell me that there has never been anything you felt like you would do whatever it took to achieve?” The concept of someone not feeling that passionate about anything seemed impossible.

“Anything I want to do will always be on the back burner,” he replied with a shrug. Right, I hadn’t considered that. Maybe that’s why he was so insistent on finding a wife, after all - he needed someone to relieve him of some of his workload, so he could pursue something he actually enjoyed, for once. That would likely be good for him, if I was being honest. He continued, oblivious to the thoughts churning in my mind. “At least for now. So, I find it's not efficient to focus on it too much.”

I offered him a sympathetic smile, close to offering him my help so he might be able to explore his own interests. Something held me back, though. That might be too much too fast. He was a hard nut to crack, and I didn’t feel like ruining what little progress I had made in getting to know him. “That makes sense. I tend to get the same way with work.” I gestured towards the journals I had given him, a single laugh escaping my lips before I added, “I think I saw my professor more than I saw my parents when we were running those experiments. Though in my case, I still definitely wanted to do them.”

“Well, you should try being employed by your parents. It’s interesting, to say the least.”

Ah, right, that. I hadn’t considered that, and yet, now that he mentioned it, I couldn’t help but wonder if we had more in common than we thought. I angled my head slightly away from him before admitting, “In a sense, I am. My professor and my father are co-heads of the biology department at my university, and both of them have to sign off on any students working in the labs, and place them in a position that corresponds to their interests. I just got lucky that my father and I aren’t interested in the same subfield.” I shook my head, looking down for a moment. Okay, maybe I had been wrong. Maybe we weren’t as similar as I thought. I met his gaze again, adding, “I can’t imagine how it must be for you, though.”

He shrugged. “I can’t imagine how it would be otherwise.”

I frowned, narrowing my eyes at him with curiosity as I inclined my head a bit to the right. “I take it you’re not someone that deals in hypotheticals, then.”

“Hypothetically, if anything was different then I wouldn't be me.”

A simple enough answer, and one that I could get behind, I realized as I shook my head. “No, that’s fair. I feel the same way.” I should say something more, to show him that I understand. The only example that was coming to mind, however, was the conversation I had had with Proctor the day before I had left for Angeles. Was it worth the risk to mention it? I bit my lip, attempting to come up with a way to word it that wouldn’t sound incriminating. I may not like Proctor at this point in time, but I didn’t want her ideas on the caste system to get us both in trouble, somehow. I would not let that woman take me down with her. “My professor asked me once what I would want to do with my life if I could choose absolutely any path, regardless of how realistic it was, and I swear it was like my mind just shut down. I just can’t really imagine being anything other than myself, you know?” I shook my head again. He must have thought that I was insane.

“I’m sure I could imagine it if I really tried,” he admitted, “but there’s no point in wasting time on impossible things.”

“Agreed,” I said simply, nodding once before biting the inside of my cheek. “But in a sense, everything is theoretically impossible, until it’s done. I mean, that’s how most technological advances are made, but that’s different, I suppose.” I shrugged, glancing back up at Arin. I was rambling again. I needed to figure out how to stop myself from doing that. It was getting out of hand. Exhaling through my nose, I decided to continue regardless. “It’s a shame that the world exists in nuanced shades of grey instead of clear-cut black and white. It’d make some things so much easier.”

“Grey is a perfectly wonderful color,” he replied with a soft smile.

I mirrored his expression, turning his words over and over again in my mind. “I suppose I’ll have to search for more pleasing shades of grey, then.”

For whatever reason, Hugo’s advice popped back into my mind at that moment, maybe because Hugo seemed like the kind of person who could see the hidden beauty in anything. I could hear his voice clearly, urging me that it couldn’t hurt to at least ask Arin if he would take me to the ballet. Was it worth the risk - to get my hopes up, only to have him potentially shoot them back down? Or maybe Hugo knew something about Arin that I didn’t. He was Arin’s cousin, after all.

It couldn’t hurt to try.

I looked back up at Arin, my head still inclined slightly to the right. “There was something else I wanted to ask you as well.”

He blinked once, a look of surprise flashing across his face. “What?”

Here goes nothing.

“Okay, well, I’m kind of spitballing here, but,” I stopped mid-sentence to take a deep breath, attempting to pull myself together, “theoretically, if I asked you to take me to the Angeles ballet - if you had the time, of course - would you say yes?”

I really was terrible at hiding my intentions, I realized yet again, as I smiled up at him with a glimmer of hope that he might say yes. My nerves got the best of me as I watched him tense up, and then let out a sigh.

Oh, no. It had not been worth it. Why had I thought it was a good idea to take Hugo’s advice? I had thought it was ridiculous the first time I had heard it! I should’ve trusted my instincts.

“Evalin,” Arin began. I felt my heart drop in my chest. “That’s not really my sort of thing.”

I knew my face had fallen, and I scrambled to cover it up before he noticed, in a vain attempt to save any shred of my pride I had left. What had I been thinking? I nodded once, my mind reaching for words that felt completely foreign at the moment. “Understood. Just thought I’d throw it out there, but, uh, forget it, I guess!”

“Sorry,” was all he said in reply, dropping my gaze.

Oh, God, what had I done? The little progress we had made towards getting closer was all falling to shreds right in front of me. I was such a fool.

I shook my head, offering him the best impression of a reassuring smile I could muster up at the moment. “No, no need to apologize! It was a silly idea to begin with,” I lied, shaking my head and rolling my eyes at my own stupidity. I never should have gotten my hopes up. Arin wasn’t someone I could count on to not let me down. I should’ve known as much by now.

“Maybe you could see if Safiya would want to go with you,” he offered, glancing back at me. “That’s up her alley.”

I was pretty sure Safiya was away for the week on some trip or another, if I remembered correctly, and the thought of asking her was borderline mortifying, considering we weren’t very close, but I offered Arin a small smile regardless. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Pointing over my shoulder at the door with my thumb, I added, “Anyways, I should probably get going. I’ve still got some work to finish.”

Arin nodded, pushing himself off his desk, to his feet. “Oh, yeah, of course. I shouldn’t keep you.”

We had really reversed our roles over the course of this conversation, it appeared.

“Right.” I slowly began to back towards the door, sliding the book he had recommended me out from under my arm and into my hands, holding it in front of me as I took another step. “Sorry again for interrupting. I’ll see you around, then.”

“It’s fine, really,” he reiterated, quickly walking towards the door himself. I stopped dead in my tracks, watching him as he made his way closer to me, brushing past me as he closed in on the door and opened it. “Don’t worry about it.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, offering him one last smile and a nod as I walked towards the door. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something else, but then clamped it shut. So this was it, then. What a rocky conversation this had been. I just smiled at him one last time before quickly making my way down the hallway, not waiting to hear the door close behind me. I just needed to get back to my room. I just needed to lose myself in this proposal that was due soon. That was the best use of my time. The least I could do was make sure I sounded more intelligent on paper than I did in person.

The proposal couldn’t be any worse than that conversation had been, at the very least. I had that much going for me. Now I just had to hope my idea for the policy wasn’t as silly or fantastical as the ideas I had had during that conversation.

#selectionoc #((to quote swendie/my own typo...NUGO))

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lastbluetardis · 4 years

Text

Family of Six (13/14)

After James and Rose bring their newborn twins home, they work to find a balance between all four of their children, and each other. Ten x Rose AU, Soulmates AU.

This chapter: Teen, 6600 words

WARNING: trigger for body image negativity

Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 39, Rose: 34, Ainsley: 9, Sianin: 6, Twins: 4.5 months

If you like reading my stories, consider leaving me a tip? Or leave a reply on this post to tell me what you thought? And as always, reblogs are very much appreciated so more people can see this.

Next (final!) update: November 21st

AO3 | TSP | FF | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14

Thankfully, when James went to work the Monday after his disastrous evening out with his coworkers, it wasn’t awkward or confrontational. Rodney stopped by his office to apologize, claiming that the divorce was giving him a shorter temper than usual, but also to alert James to the fact that his behavior was rude and hurtful. James didn’t particularly think he had been out of line, but he apologized nevertheless and offered his condolences and well-wishes for Rodney as he rebounded from his divorce.

No matter, James more or less kept his head down at the university. He did his job and helped his students, but looked forward to going home to his family at the end of the day. He also enjoyed going on vacations with his family throughout the summer. He and Rose regularly took the girls out for weekend adventures. They stayed fairly close to home, as travelling with the twins was tricky, but they planned a longer trip to the beach, enlisting Jackie and Robert’s help with child management.

Ainsley and Sianin were thrilled to have their grandparents on vacation with them and often spent a majority of their time playing with them. Since Jackie and Robert looked after Ainsley and Sianin, James and Rose only had to worry about keeping the twins happy.

They’d booked two rooms at a hotel not too far from the beach. Jackie and Robert shared one room while James and Rose bunked with all of their kids in the other room.

For it being the height of summer, they lucked out with the weather. It was hot and sunny, but the cool ocean breeze kept it manageable. James adored playing with his children in the sea. The twins thoroughly reveled in the new experience, shrieking and splashing their fat little legs whenever James and Rose dipped them into the water.

James also appreciated doing absolutely nothing. He loved being able to lay down beside Rose on the shore and simply soak up the sun, content to let Robert and Jackie entertain his eldest children while the babies napped.

“You’re going to have the weirdest tan line,” Rose remarked, jutting her chin towards the baby lying atop him.

“At least I’m going to get tan,” he said, eyeing her t-shirt and shorts.

“My legs are tanning,” she said, smoothing her hands up and down them for emphasis.

“Come on, why don’t you take your shirt off?”

Rose shrugged. “I haven’t exactly worked on my figure since the twins were born.”

James furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about? You look great.”

A small smile tugged at her lips. “Thanks. But you’re a bit biased. I don’t think the rest of the beach wants to see my fat tummy and stretch marks.”

“Fuck everyone else,” he said. “Your body has grown four perfect children. You are beautiful, Rose.”

“My body is amazing and I’m so proud of myself for carrying and giving birth to four humans. And I would do it all again to have our girls. But that doesn’t mean I like what it looks like.”

James frowned. “But… you’re beautiful.”

Rose laughed. “I know you think that. And I love you for it. But I’m having a self-conscious day, so please leave me be about it, yeah?”

He wanted to argue. It killed him that she didn’t like what she looked like. But he also didn’t want to coerce her into something she didn’t want to do. However, dropping the subject made him feel like he was agreeing with her assessment of her body. Sure, she was still carrying around a bit of baby weight, and she had stretch marks around her stomach, thighs, and breasts, but he would never tire of seeing her body, blemishes and all.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the universe,” he said.

“I know. Thanks, love.”

He settled back into his seat. A few minutes later, however, Sianin ran up to him and begged him to play in the water with her.

“Go ahead,” Rose said, holding out an arm for Hannah. “Besides, I need to feed these two.”

She stripped off her shirt and freed a breast from her bikini top. James deposited Hannah into the crook of her arm and stayed long enough to help her get settled to nurse.

“I’m going to do one at a time,” Rose told him as he attempted to help her situate the twins. “It’s easier to stay covered in public if I’m just worrying about one tit.”

James snorted. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yep, go have fun,” she said, waving her hand at him.

She smiled to herself as she watched her husband and children frolicking in the sea. She watched James crouch low into the water until Sianin clambered up his torso to stand on his shoulders. She wobbled precariously for a moment when he stood to his full height, but then she regained her balance, bent down, and sprang off of her father and into the water.

Rose was surprised when James let Ainsley do the same thing. Though she was still small for her age, it was getting harder and harder to lift Ainsley up. Rose supposed the buoyancy of the water helped, but when James stood up, he alone supported Ainsley’s weight.

Gracefully, Ainsley leaped off of James and splashed into the water.

Again and again, her children used their father as a diving board to plunge into the water. Rose wished she could record the moment forever of everyone playing lightheartedly in the ocean.

Her attention was brought back to the baby at her breast when the subtle tugging sensation stopped. Hannah had unlatched and was nuzzling her face into the side of Rose’s breast, content to drift back to sleep.

“Let’s get a burp out of you,” Rose cooed, bringing her daughter to her shoulder.

She was aware of a few quickly-averted eyes as her breast was exposed to the beach, but Rose ignored the slight burning of her cheeks and instead positioned Hannah over her breast to rub and pat her back. She was rewarded a few seconds later with a couple of deep burps and a relieved sigh.

“Bet you feel loads better. Your belly is nice and full, and you’re soaking up the sunshine. Where better to nap, eh?”

Before setting her baby back onto the towel by her side, Rose slathered on a bit more sunscreen. The twins’ skin was as fair as their newly-grown hair—which looked like it might come in red, though James was convinced it would be blonde—and as such, she wanted to keep as much of the sun’s rays off of her babies’ delicate skin as she could.

Hannah smiled sleepily at her mother as Rose rubbed sunscreen into her chubby arms and legs, giving her an impromptu massage as she went. Rose pressed a kiss to Hannah’s brow, then placed her on her tummy on the blanket. She next grabbed Maddie, who seemed more interested in playing than eating. Maddie beamed again and again at her mother, squealing with delight as Rose tickled her belly and bounced her in her lap and pretended to eat her fingers and toes.

“It’s lunch time, sweetheart,” Rose finally said. “I know you must be hungry. Mummy’s got your food all ready to go.”

She exposed her other breast for her daughter.

“Don’t you have a cover?”

Rose glanced up and saw her mother standing beside her.

“Nah, she’ll latch on in a minute,” Rose said, then she returned her attention to trying to get Maddie to nurse. Maddie grinned at Rose’s breast and reached out to sink her little fingers into it. Rose winced; the baby needed her nails trimmed. “Yes, thank you for that. But your mouth is on your face, not your hands.”

Maddie pinched and pulled at Rose’s breast, causing a drop of milk to well up. Maddie was delighted to see it, and she gurgled and grinned.

“I love that you’re so amused right now,” Rose told her child, “but I really need you to cooperate with me, sweetheart.”

She took the back of Maddie’s head in her hand and guided her face forward. Maddie writhed and squawked, but after a few seconds, she stopped struggling and decided she was hungry after all. She opened her mouth and leaned forward as Rose guided her nipple into the baby’s searching mouth.

“There we go,” Rose murmured as she felt the letdown of milk and Maddie began nursing in earnest. “See, I told you you were hungry. Mummy knows best, eh? Well, most of the time anyway.”

She caressed her fingers across Maddie’s scalp, then turned her attention to the shadow still looming above her.

“Are you gonna sit?” Rose asked, gesturing to the chair James had recently vacated.

“I was waiting ‘til you got her settled,” Jackie said, eyeing Maddie with what looked like disapproval. “You weren’t in any rush to get her to latch and I didn’t think you wanted the whole beach seeing you with your tits out.”

Rose rolled her eyes and disregarded the comment. Instead, she lounged back in her chair, tilting her face up towards the sun. Her skin radiated heat, and she had to admit it felt nice to feel the sun on her arms and stomach. She exhaled and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the flabby weight of the skin of her stomach. It couldn’t be helped; besides people tended to avert their eyes upon seeing a breastfeeding mother, so people probably weren’t looking closely enough to see the red and silver stripes adorning her abdomen.

The shadow of her mother moved. A second later, she felt a towel being draped across her shoulder and stomach, concealing Maddie beneath the course, heavy sheet. Maddie startled and thrashed, clawing Rose’s chest with her nails and she squirmed and shrieked. Rose bolted upright and flung the towel off of her baby.

“What the hell…?” she snapped, glaring at her mother. “What did you do that for?”

“I thought you could use a cover,” Jackie spluttered, going wide-eyed.

“I told you I don’t have a nursing cover,” Rose spat. “I don’t use one, so neither of the twins is used to having their head covered while they feed!”

As if to prove the point, Maddie began crying in earnest, her face pinched and red. Rose turned her attention to her distraught child and brought her up for kisses and cuddles.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Rose whispered into Maddie’s ear. “I’m so sorry. But you’re okay. Mummy’s here. I’ve got you.”

“Everything all right?”

James crouched down beside Rose and stroked his fingers across Maddie’s back.

“Yes,” Jackie replied tightly.

Rose glared up at her mother. “Yes? Are you bloody kidding me? You just suffocated my child!”

James gaped, staring in confusion between her and her mother.

“I didn’t suffocate her,” Jackie said impatiently. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“It is blazing hot and you just put a towel over her face. How would you like to eat your lunch with a blanket over your head?”

James touched her thigh gently, but his voice was tight as he said, “Let’s all cool down. Jackie, why don’t we go get ice cream for Ainsley and Sianin?”

“I was trying to help,” Jackie said, not moving from her chair. She crossed her arms tightly across her chest. “I was trying to protect your modesty. People were staring.”

“Then let them stare! My babies needed feeding. I’m not flashing the entire bloody beach for the sake of showing off my goddamn tits!”

“We’re used to getting stared at in public when Rose breastfeeds,” James explained, trying to keep his tone even. The fact that he was so calm—or at least sounded calm—set Rose’s teeth on edge, and she wanted to rage at him, too. “Though most of the time, people tend to mind their own business.”

“Does it bother you that I breastfeed my children in public?” Rose demanded to her mother.

“Of course not. I breastfed you when you were a baby. But I did it discreetly.”

“Have you seen how big their heads are?” Rose gestured down to Maddie, who was nursing lazily by now, her prior distress forgotten. “Nobody can see anything. Besides, we’re on a bloody beach; everyone is half-naked.”

“I was trying to help,” Jackie snapped again. “Not only with keeping your chest covered, but I didn’t think you wanted anyone to see…”

Jackie fluttered her hand vaguely at Rose’s stomach. A hollow noise echoed in Rose’s ears and something hard clenched her gut. She was suddenly conscious of the commotion they’d caused; everyone in the vicinity was watching them out of the corner of their eye. Mortification flooded through Rose, and she knew that if she sat there a second longer, she would burst into tears of anger and frustration.

Wordlessly, she stood with Maddie in her arms and stormed away from her mother and husband. Through the ringing in her head, she heard James’s voice hissing at her mother.

As she strode along the beach, Rose was cognizant of the eyes on her. She realized how ridiculous she must look. Her bikini top was half-off and an infant was latched to her breast, not bothered that her mother was walking as she nursed. Rose was also painfully aware of how her legs and stomach and breasts jiggled as she walked.

She wanted to go home. She wanted to be in her home with James and her girls, to be somewhere that nobody could see her. Heat welled through her eyes, but she roughly brushed away her tears and tried to ignore the people she passed.

She finally found a bench to sit on, and positioned Maddie to hide as much of herself as she could.

“Hi there!” A woman about Rose’s age dropped onto the bench beside her. She was a couple months pregnant; her bikini showed off the slight swell of her stomach. Rose’s throat closed as she glanced down to her own belly, saggy and striped and hideous.

“D’you mind if I keep you company ‘til you finish?” the woman asked. “People can be arseholes about a woman nursing in public and I don’t want you getting harassed. People can go fuck themselves, in my opinion.”

“I’d like that,” Rose managed to croak, embarrassed by the tears she could hear in her voice.

But the woman didn’t seem to notice. Or if she did, she said nothing. Instead, she asked, “How old is she? What’s her name? Got any more little ones with you? Gorgeous weather for the beach, eh?”

“Maddie. Er, Madeline,” Rose amended, smoothing her fingertips through the baby’s fine hair. “Nearly five months. She’s a twin. And I’ve got two older girls as well: nine and six.”

“Twins? Oh, me too! You look absolutely amazing.”

Rose snorted, and the woman frowned.

“You do! God, I can only hope I look as good as you after having twins. Especially after popping out two other ones, no less!” The woman stroked her tight belly. “I’m having one of each, a boy and a girl. They’re our first kids, and I’m not sure if I should be scared shitless or thankful I don’t have any other reference to judge by.”

Rose cracked a small smile. “For what it’s worth, my husband and I haven’t found twins to be much harder than a single baby. Sure, it’s twice the nappies and twice the laundry and twice everything else, but honestly, it’s not too bad once you get used to it.”

The woman beamed, though it slipped when she glanced over Rose’s shoulder.

“Oi, keep walkin’ mate,” she snapped, folding her arms across her chest. “Nothing to see here.”

Rose turned her head. Her bones went weak with relief when she spotted James stalking towards them. The harsh expression on his face relaxed into bewilderment as he glanced between the stranger and Rose.

“He’s my husband,” Rose said.

The woman looked at him warily for a minute, then turned her attention to Rose. She lowered her voice until nobody else could hear her. “He looks cross… Do you need me to stay?”

Rose furrowed her brow in confusion before she comprehended what the woman had thought. “Oh! No! No, no, no. No, we just got into a spat with my mum, is all. Probably chewed her out before coming to find me. No, I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

The woman smiled cheerfully then stood up. “It was nice meeting you!”

Rose barely managed, “You too,” before the woman skipped away.

James sank onto the bench beside Rose.

“I am so, so sorry,” he breathed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Rose burrowed her face into his neck. “Are you all right?”

Rose inhaled deeply, smelling sea salt and sunscreen on his skin. “Why did my mum have to make such a fuss? Why here, of all places? Why right then? And why…?” Her voice caught in her throat. “Do I look that bad?”

“No,” James whispered fiercely, hugging her tighter. “No, Rose. No. Believe me, I gave your mother an earful about that. You are the most beautiful person on this beach.” He hesitated for a fraction of a second before he admitted, “Your mum explained what she was trying to do.”

“Oh?”

James nodded. “She knows you’ve been… self-conscious. And she thought you would appreciate covering up a bit. Not that you need to, obviously. But that was all she meant by it, love. Not that I’m agreeing with her. She went about it very poorly, and I told her as much. And she understands how you took it. But… her heart was in the right place, I think.”

Rose sighed. “Why did she feel the need to cover up Maddie when I explicitly said I don’t use a cover to nurse?”

James shrugged. “She was just trying to help.”

Frustration seeped through Rose. “If I wanted help, I’d ask for it.”

“She’s a mum, Rose. How many times have we helped our kids without them asking for it?”

“Why are you defending her so much?” Rose snapped. Then she gritted her teeth and pressed the heel of her hand into her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you further. I’m only trying to explain what your mother told me,” James said, his voice unendingly gentle. “I’m not taking her side. I’ll always be on your side. You know that. But I also want to make sure you know all the facts, too.”

“I know. I just… I don’t like how I look right now,” Rose confessed. “I didn’t realize how much I don’t like how I look. I’ve been so busy with the twins… It’s been almost five months since I gave birth, and I haven’t done anything to try and get my old body back.”

“Your body is right here; there’s nothing to get back. But I know what you mean. I love you no matter how you look. I still find you incredibly attractive, no matter how toned or untoned your body is. Nothing could ever change that opinion. I love you, and I love your body. However, I want you to love your body, too. So if you want to work on strengthening it or toning it or whatever, say the word and I’ll occupy the kids so you can work towards looking like how you want to look.”

Tears leaked from her eyes. “Thank you,” she rasped. “God, I feel so daft and so… shallow. I mean, I knew what pregnancy would do to my body. And I wanted it so badly. I’m so grateful for our babies, and after what we went through trying to conceive them, it feels wrong to complain about anything regarding the twins.”

“You’re allowed to not be okay about everything,” James murmured, his heart breaking for her. “It doesn’t mean you love the twins any less. How long have you been feeling like this?”

Rose let out a watery laugh. “Honestly, today has been the worst it’s ever been. Figures, right? I’ve had moments where I’d catch a glimpse of myself and make a note to start exercising, but it was always a fleeting thought, y’know. I don’t know why it all hit me today like this. I’m sorry.”

“Why on earth are you apologizing?”

She lifted a shoulder. “This is our family vacation. I want everyone to have a nice time. You should be out playing with Ainsley and Sianin, not listening to me whine and moan.”

“You’re right, it is a family vacation,” he said. “And one of my favorite family members is not having a good time at the moment, and if my mere presence can fix that even a little bit, then I am right where I want to be.”

Rose offered him a weary but grateful smile, then rested her head on his shoulder. They sat in silence beside until Maddie finished nursing. After getting the baby burped, Rose stuffed her breast back into her bikini top.

“I promised the girls ice cream,” James said, watching as Rose made silly faces to make Maddie grin. The baby also attempted to mimic the facial expressions, though it often got distorted through a smile. “Do you want to come along?”

She bit her lip. “Mind if I borrow your shirt?”

He stripped off his t-shirt and took Maddie into his arms while Rose donned it. She then linked her arm loosely through his and together they walked to the ice cream shop further up the beach.

There was a stifling layer of tension between Rose and her mother when they returned. Sianin was utterly oblivious to it and too focused on her ice cream to care. Ainsley, however, kept glancing between Rose and Jackie until finally she sidled up to her father and whispered, “Are Mum and Gran okay?”

James wrapped his arm loosely around her waist and stole a lick of her ice cream cone before saying, “They had a tiny little argument. Nothing to worry about, darling.”

“Mum looks sad,” Ainsley said.

Indeed, Rose did look glum from where she sat, absently bouncing Hannah and Maddie’s feet against the sand.

“She’ll be all right,” James said, smiling at his child.

“I’m gonna see if she wants my ice cream,” Ainsley said with a little nod to herself.

James’s throat constricted as Ainsley pushed herself to her feet and plopped down beside her mum. Rose’s smile was genuine as she took a bite of Ainsley’s treat, but let their daughter finish it.

That evening, the family went out for dinner and then took a walk along the beach front. The heat of the day had burnt off, but the sand and water was still warm as they walked along the shallows.

They came across a group of musicians that was playing along the shore, and James pulled Rose into his arms for an impromptu dance. She laughed at him but let him spin her around in the sand.

After a minute, they saw Ainsley and Sianin dancing together, their bodies moving very badly to the beat of the music. But both girls were shrieking with delight, not caring how they looked. James and Rose cut in, dancing with each of their daughters in turn, before somehow managing to come together to concoct a strange four-person dance that was mostly them moving however they wanted to.

“Daddy my legs are tired,” Sianin puffed when they finished dancing. “Can I have a shoulder ride?”

“Sure thing,” he said, crouching down. He helped Sianin clamber onto his back, which was already exhausted from hoisting his children around in the sea that afternoon. When she was seated across his shoulders, Sianin leaned forward and pecked a kiss to his forehead.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she said.

“You are very welcome,” he replied. “Hold on tight.”

She dutifully wound her fingers through his hair and adjusted her balance as he began the walk back to their hotel. Rose watched him out of the corner of her eye. She fell into step beside him and threaded her fingers loosely through his.

“Love you,” she murmured, rubbing her thumb along his.

James was glad when the hotel came into view. He squatted to let Sianin hop off of his shoulders, groaning when his sore muscles were relieved of their burden.

“Can Ainsley and I have a sleepover with Gran and Grandad?” Sianin asked as they entered the hotel lobby.

“That’s up to Gran and Grandad,” Rose answered.

Sianin turned to her grandparents. James, knowing exactly how well Jackie and his dad could say no to her pleading face, was already looking forward to how quiet and empty his and Rose’s room would be that night.

Robert and Jackie both agreed, and Sianin squealed with happiness. Ainsley and Sianin gathered up all of the nighttime necessities they needed, then kissed their mum and dad goodnight before following their grandparents into the room next door.

“So… we have this giant room all to ourselves,” James purred as soon as the door snicked shut.

“Well, not all to ourselves,” Rose said, gesturing to their two slumbering babies.

“We can stuff them in the closet,” James mused, earning him a false glare from his wife before they each cracked a grin.

“What on earth are we to do with ourselves?” Rose asked, tapping her finger against her chin.

“Sit in utter silence then fall asleep in separate beds?”

“While that sounds like loads of fun, I think I might have a better idea,” Rose said, stepping into his personal space. “An idea that involves us being in one bed together without any clothes on.”

He looped his arms around her waist. “I think I like your idea better.”

They moved at the same time, with Rose tilting her head up as James ducked down, until their mouths met in a soft kiss.

It took a few minutes for them to shed their clothes since neither of them could be bothered to break their kiss. Instead, they fumbled with clasps and buttons and zippers, only parting long enough to haul their shirts over their heads.

James shivered as the length of his naked body came into contact with Rose’s. He backed her towards the bed until they were close enough to clamber onto it. The full moon shone through the open window, casting her skin aglow with silvery light. She was absolutely beautiful.

“I love you,” he said, settling his weight atop her.

Her body shifted automatically, her legs parting until his hips fit into hers. She draped her arms lazily over his shoulders, running her fingertips through the fine hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Let’s hope Ainsley and Sianin don’t come back,” she said with a wry smile.

“Best get this over with quickly, just in case.”

Rose giggled and pinched him, but hauled his head down to meet her for a languid kiss.

They kissed each other for a long while, not caring about anything but the press of their mouths, the slide of their bodies, the caress of their hands. They joined together when they absolutely couldn’t stand it anymore. With every thrust of their bodies, their love and pleasure mounted before reaching a crescendo of bliss and euphoria that left them panting and clinging to each other.

Basking in the afterglow, James kissed every inch of his wife that he could reach, delighting in the sleepy, sated expression on her face and the hum of satisfaction she let out every couple of seconds.

“I love you,” she slurred as he made another circuit of kisses across her collarbone.

“I love you, too.”

“Thank you for tonight.”

He lifted his head to smirk at her. “I could say the same.”

She snorted. “I meant… you made me feel better after what happened today. You made me feel… special. Cherished. Safe. Thank you.”

James brushed a rogue tendril of hair from her brow, then leaned down to press his lips lightly to hers once, twice, three times. “I am so sorry today was a bad day.”

“Me too.” She sighed. “I just want one day where my mum and I aren’t at each other’s throat. Is that too much to ask? I want my mum to be able to spend time with her grandkids, but it’s getting so hard for me. I don’t know what changed all of a sudden, but it’s like it was when I was a kid, and my mum disapproved about everything in my life. And I swear to God, if she starts picking at Ainsley or Sianin, I will cut off all contact with her. I will not let her take her foul mood out on my children and upset them.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t come to that,” James soothed.

“I wish I knew what happened that has made her snipe at me all the time now. Because something has changed, right? Are you seeing it too? Please tell me I haven’t gone mad.”

“No, I’ve noticed it,” he said. “And I wish I knew. It’s so hard to talk to her about it, either because it’s awkward to bring up the fact that she’s been rude and hurtful lately, or because as soon as I begin to imply something, she gets defensive about it.”

“Maybe we should move to the other side of the world,” Rose mused. “Give us all a bit of breathing room. But I can’t move away from your dad. Our family would literally not function without him.”

“Oi, give us a little bit of credit,” James whined, poking her tummy. “We would make do. But you know that he would follow us to the end of the world, right? If we wanted him to, he would uproot and move with us, no matter where we went.”

“I don’t know whether to feel guilty of grateful about that. Or whether I should feel pathetic that I always want him close by. Which now makes me feel like a terrible daughter ‘cos I want my father-in-law in closer proximity than my own mother.”

Rose pushed her face into a pillow and let out a frustrated scream. James patted her head reassuringly.

oOoOo

The rest of the vacation wasn’t as uncomfortable as James had feared it would be. He saw Jackie and Rose talking quietly the following morning and was relieved when both women embraced. They spent most of the day together on the sand with the babies, and no further arguments appeared to break out.

When they got home, James was glad to see Rose in better spirits. She began taking morning runs again and had signed up for a Pilates class. While he didn’t particularly notice any immediate changes in her physique, he was happy that she seemed happy about her body once more.

And she truly was happy. Rose was mortified by her reaction at the beach, both with her short temper with her mother and with her hatred of her body image. Getting active again helped with her mood, she was pleased to find. She took solo runs in the morning before James had to be at work, then at night after dinner, the whole family would take a leisurely walk through the neighborhood or to the park, if the weather was nice.

It seemed that everyone was in a great mood. She didn’t know if it was from the weather—which was comfortably warm and unusually sunny—but she was glad to see her family doing so well. Her kids were all getting along nicely during their summer holiday from school, and James was enjoying his work more and more. She was pleased that the situation with his coworker had more or less blown over.

Or at least, she had thought it had blown over.

When James informed her that the department was going out for drinks after work one night, she was more than happy to have an evening alone with her daughters. Rose took all four of them out for dinner and ice cream, then they came home to watch a film together.

However, the front door opened much earlier in the night than Rose had anticipated. She instantly knew the outing had not gone well, and a sense of foreboding slithered through her as she stood from the couch.

Sianin was faster and sprinted to the door to greet her father. When she reached him, she stated, “You smell gross, Daddy.”

“Daddy had a little accident and spilled some beer,” James replied. “I’m going to get a shower and wash it off.”

Rose frowned at her husband’s retreating form as he slinked off down the hallway. It wasn’t like him to not pop his head in and say hi. She padded after him.

“Daddy spilled beer on himself,” Sianin explained, passing her mother on her way back to the living room.

“Yes, I heard,” Rose said. “Go sit with Ainsley and watch the film. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He had to have heard her footsteps trailing after him, but James didn’t acknowledge her as he trekked to the bedroom. Rose followed James inside and latched the door behind them.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

He finally turned to look at her. His entire shirt was soaked and the stench of alcohol wafted from him. That definitely wasn’t an accidental spill.

“Rodney,” he said tightly, pulling his shirt over his head. “He threw his bloody glass at me.”

“Are you hurt?” she asked, alarmed. She took a step towards him, inspecting his upper body closely for cuts or bruises. There was nothing on his fair skin.

“He threw the contents of his glass at me,” he amended.

“What happened?” she repeated, silently fuming at Rodney.

“I’m the biggest wanker in the history of wankers, evidently,” James said. His voice oozed nonchalance, but there was a flicker of grief in his eyes.

“Start from the beginning,” Rose ordered.

And so James told her how his evening had gone. How he had mostly stayed clear of Rodney, electing to chat with Mark and some of his other work friends. But Rodney had bought drink after drink until he was properly drunk by the time the food was brought out. He moaned loudly to anyone who would listen that his wife had left him and taken their two children with her, and how he hadn’t seen his kids in three weeks.

That was when James had asked whether his wife was intentionally withholding them, or if he simply wasn’t making the effort to see them.

“I’ll admit, my wording was awful,” James said. “I hadn’t meant to imply it the way Rodney took it. But it didn’t matter. The words were out and Rodney began shouting at me for being a condescending knob who sneers down his nose at all other dads because they aren’t holier than thou like me.

“Then he started calling me a pansy who has no balls, et cetera, and that I’ve basically turned into a mother. He went on to make fun of me for taking the offered paternity leave that the university gives. He said he doesn’t remember a man every taking more than a couple of weeks, and here I’ve taken months when each of my kids were born.

“He then said my daughters are growing up without any masculine influences, and they’re in for a rude awakening when they’re introduced to real men. I told him that he can’t have it both ways: he can’t be angry that he isn’t seeing his children when he never made an effort to be with them. And then my mouth got the best of me, and I said I didn’t care what he said about me, because at least I’ve got my children to go home to tonight.” James rubbed his fingers into his eyes. “That’s when he chucked his beer on me.”

Rose’s pulse was pounding in her ears, and she had the inclination to stalk down to the pub and give Rodney a piece of her mind. She had no idea what to say to her husband. He looked so lost and defeated, so she wrapped him in a tight hug, not caring that he reeked of stale beer.

“And d’you know the worst part?” he whispered into her ear.

“There’s a worst part?”

He snorted, but it was a humorless sound. “I could tell a lot of my mates agreed with Rodney. At least on some level. When Rodney made the jab about me taking so much paternity leave, I saw the agreement on their faces.”

“Oh, James…”

“I’m not embarrassed or ashamed of how much I love you and our children,” he said fiercely. “I’d never be ashamed of that. But… it hurts so much that someone would tease me about it. Why is it considered so odd that I love my family? Why is it so odd that I want to nurture my daughters and be a safe place for them to come to? Why is it so odd that I enjoy spending time with you and our girls?”

“I don’t know,” Rose rasped, tears burning behind her eyes. Tears of sorrow, yes, but also tears of rage. She wanted to scream at anyone who dared make James feel badly about the most important part of his life. He was such a gentle soul, and she hated anyone who belittled him for it, or made him self-conscious about it.

“I thought we were friends. And not just Rodney. Everyone. All of my work mates. But how long have they thought this about me? This whole time, was everyone laughing at me behind my back?”

She squeezed him harder, wanting to fix his breaking heart but knowing she couldn’t. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he murmured. “How am I supposed to face them all on Monday?”

“Don’t. Just quit. Up and leave. To hell with those arseholes. Stay at home with me and the girls and never go back to work again.

She was only partially kidding, but was pleased when a laugh bubbled out of him.

“Unfortunately, children cost money and I can’t in good conscience eliminate our sole source of income.”

“I’ll find a job again. We’d manage. Seriously, James. If you want to quit, we’ll figure out a way to make it work. I will not have you sacrificing your happiness at a job you used to love.”

He exhaled raggedly. “I appreciate that. Truly. But I do love my job still. I love teaching and working with my students and doing research and building instruments. I love all of that. But the people…”

“Get a new job at a new university,” Rose suggested.

“Tempting. But my job now is so good with letting me take time off for family reasons. I got so lucky with that.” He sighed. “No, I’m going to stick it out. Let this whole fiasco blow over. Things will go back to normal soon.”

For James’s sake, Rose hoped that was true. She gave his middle a final squeeze before backing out of his arms.

“For what it’s worth, I love how devoted you are to our children,” Rose said, smiling at him.

His face softened. “That’s worth more than you know. Thank you for listening.”

“Anytime,” she said. “I love you with everything I am, James.”

His smile broadened. “I love you, too, Rose.”

“Right, go on, get a shower. You stink.”

“Way to ruin the moment,” he muttered petulantly, though a small smile still tugged at his lips.

She winked at him, then turned and strode out of the room.

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