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ryqoshay · 2 years

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Tri-Arame: Braiding Away

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Words: ~2k Rating: G Fandom: Love Live Nijigasaki Time Frame: The evening after the stinger at the end of Episode 5, Season 2 Event: Femslash Friday Event Source: @femslash-friday-prompts Prompt: Braid ***SPOILERS*** for Episode 5, Season 2

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Author’s Note: My first foray into a wonderful new source of writing prompts. I would like to make a habit of writing something for most, if not all prompts for this from here on out. And there is an archive with a couple dozen that I’ve missed that I may peruse at my leisure.

Also, for those unfamiliar with my writing style, I tend to flip back and forth between using Nana and Setsuna, not just between scenes, but in the middle of them as well, depending on when she changes.

Summary: Nana realizes she forgot something and ponders how it happened

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Ah, it’s good to be home. Nana thought to herself as she removed her shoes before heading toward her room. It had been a long, but productive day for both Nana and Setsuna.

The student council was ramping up its preparations for the upcoming combined events of the second School Idol Festival and the Cultural Festival, which had Nana running around to check on various individuals or having them come to her. She had also spent several cumulative hours on the phone when in-person meetings were not possible for whatever reason.

All the while, the School Idol Club was also getting busier. And now, in addition to more intense training for the Festival, Setsuna was setting aside time to rehearse a mini play with Ayumu and Shizuku.

At least no important tests were coming up soon. Still, Nana knew she needed to get some studying in tonight. And maybe reread a few chapters of one of her favorite novels, since the next book in the series was slated for release later in the week.

Nana paused as something in her mirror caught her eye.

Wait…

Oh no…

Slowly, she reached up to confirm, as though perhaps her eyes were deceiving her. Unfortunately, her fingers confirmed the truth.

Setsuna’s gold triangle clip was still in Nana’s hair.

How had she been so careless? Had she really been so busy as to overlook such an important detail? Or was she simply that much out of practice?

Ayumu…

No.

No. No. No. She was not going to blame Ayumu for this.

Nana had been enjoying the recently developed habit of letting one of her closest friends help her change back and forth between her identities. But obviously, she had become a bit dependent on it, such that when she needed to do so herself, she was now prone to being sloppy.

Memories filled Nana’s mind as she thought about some of the key events that lead to this potential disaster.

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Setsuna couldn’t stop smiling if she wanted to. She loved a good morning practice session as not only was it related to the school idol activities she adored, it also helped rev her up for the day. But now it was time to get ready for class, to which she also looked forward.

Even though the first School Idol Festival was over, there was no reason to let up. No other Live events were currently planned, but the Club, or any of its members, could decide to set up something at any point. As such, it was best to keep a steady routine of practice. And of course, Setusna did love practice for its own sake, so there was that as well.

With her school uniform donned, it was time for her hair.

“Would you like help with that, Setsuna-chan?” a voice asked from nearby.

The offer was followed immediately by a snicker from someone else.

Setsuna turned to find a gently smiling Ayumu and a smugly grinning Yuu. “You want to braid my hair for me, Ayumu-san?” She asked, despite being pretty sure that had been the offer.

“Yes, if you don’t mind.” Ayumu confirmed.

Mind? Of course, she didn’t mind. Over the last few months, Setsuna had come to love when Ayumu worked with her hair. But she had never considered asking her to do something as simple as help her with the loose braids she used when in Nana mode.

Suddenly, Ayumu lurched forward. “Y-Yuu-chan?” She questioned having apparently been pushed.

Yuu laughed. “Oh, just go do it already. We all know you want to. And Setsuna-chan loves when you work with her hair, just like I do. And I love watching the transformations between Setsuna and Nana.”

“Thank you, Ayumu-san.” Setsuna said as the redhead stepped behind her.

“Mm.” Ayumu replied happily as her deft fingers began their work.

Unsurprisingly, Ayumu was faster than Setsuna herself in creating the braids. Although, despite the significantly shorter session, compared to when Ayumu would dry and brush her hair after bathing during a sleepover, it was nonetheless quite enjoyable.

“There we go.” Ayumu said upon completion. “Shall we head to class, Nana-chan?”

“Mm.” Nana nodded in agreement before putting on her glasses.

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Setsuna finished securing her ribbon before glancing over to see Ayumu doing the same. The other girl looked up and smiled when their eyes met. It was that time again.

In just a few short days, it had become somewhat of a tradition that if Ayumu was present when Setsuna needed to transform back into Nana, Ayumu would be the one to braid her hair. And occasionally Ayumu would even help with Nana transforming to Setsuna, though not all of the time; sometimes Setsuna felt like doing that transformation a bit more dramatically.

“Ne, Ayumu.” Yuu suddenly spoke up. “We have a bit of extra time this morning. Think you could teach me to braid Nana-chan’s hair?”

“Eh?” Ayumu blinked. “Uhm, sure, if Se… Nana-chan is fine with it.” She seemed momentarily confused with Yuu’s name choice as Setsuna was still Setsuna, for the moment.

“It’s fine.” Setsuna assured, finding herself curious as to how it might feel to have Yuu work with her hair instead.

“Yay!” Yuu cheered before bouncing behind Setsuna.

“Alright, first you divide her hair like this.” Ayumu started.

Two hands, guided by two others, began the braiding process. It was unquestionably slower than when either Ayumu or Setsuna performed the process. However, Yuu’s fingers, made dexterous by all of the piano practice she had been performing over the last few months, adapted quickly to the new skill being learned. And it didn’t take long for Setsuna to realize she quite enjoyed Yuu’s handiwork as well.

“And there you go.” Ayumu said after a couple minutes. “Good work, Yuu-chan.”

“Thanks, Ayumu.” Yuu replied. “I know I’m still nowhere near as good as Ayumu with such things, but maybe I can still learn enough to help you all prep for Lives and such.”

“Well, if you want to practice more, I do change a lot.” Nana offered.

“Thanks, Nana-chan.” Yuu acknowledged. “I may take you up on that. But not too much, as I wouldn’t want to take too much away from one of Ayumu’s favorite pastimes.” She winked at her childhood friend beside her.

“Y-Yuu-chan…” Ayumu protested mildly, earning a laugh from the twintailed girl.

And with that, the tradition had been augmented. Yuu would occasionally step in for practice or would make the offer if Ayumu was elsewise unavailable. And with how much time she spent with the two in general, Setsuna found herself rarely braiding her own hair to transform into Nana. It became almost entirely limited to her morning preparations at home. Not that she minded in the slightest.

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Setsuna’s phone vibrated on the kotatsu, so she reached over to pick it up. Noticing the caller, she quickly retrieved and donned her glasses before answering. She was also grateful that Yuu tapped a key on Ayumu’s laptop to pause the music that had been playing.

“Yes, Nakagawa speaking.” She said. “Yes. … Yes. … I see. One moment.”

Setsuna muted her side of the call. She then slid her glasses down her nose so she could open her eyes and not have the double correction of both them and her contacts affect her vision.

“Ayumu-san, Yuu-san.” she addressed the other occupants of the kotatsu. “This call may take a while. Is there somewhere else I may go so as not to disturb you?”

The three girls were once again gathered in Ayumu’s room for a study session, as they did at least once a week as of late. And sometimes, like tonight, they gathered on the weekend as well. That meant they could spend that much more time studying, without Setsuna needing to keep track of time so she could catch a train back home as she would be spending the night here. Plus, there was the added bonus that they would reward themselves for their hard work by gathering around Ayumu’s laptop to watch anime.

But Shioriko had just requested a conference call with Nana, the student council vice president and whoever else from the council could join. Apparently, some new challenge to the preparations had arisen and needed to be addressed as soon as possible.

Ayumu smiled and shook her head. “You’re fine, Setsuna-chan.”

“Yeah, it’s probably time for a break anyway.” Yuu said, leaning back to stretch. “Say, you guys want a snack or something?” She pushed herself out from under the table.

“Mama made a fresh batch of cookies for us to eat tonight.” Ayumu pointed out.

“Hee… I know.” Yuu grinned. “That’s what I was gonna get. And I’ll grab some juice or something as well while I’m at it.” And with that she left the room.

“Are you sure you’re fine with me staying here?” Setsuna asked again.

“Mhm.” Ayumu nodded, also pushing herself out from under the kotatsu before crawling over behind Setsuna.

“Ayumu-san?”

“You said the call may take a while.” Ayumu said, running a hand through Setsuna’s hair. “So, let’s get you as fully into Nana as possible.”

“Oh… alright. Thank you, Ayumu-san.” Setsuna agreed before pushing back up her glasses and closing her eyes. She then unmuted her call to reply to something the vice president had asked.

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So, that is what had done her in. Nana sighed in realization as she removed the clip and undid her braids so as to resecure her hair in the loose twin-tails she wore in the evening.

It hadn’t been Ayumu or Yuu’s kindness in offering their aid over the last couple months. Rather, it had been her own complacency as she focused too much on enjoying the kindness instead of remembering to stay sharp when swapping between and maintaining her identities.

This afternoon, Ayumu had to run an errand for her parents before going home and had left practice early. Also, Yuu had been unable to attend idol practice as she was busy with something for her music course. Thus, Setsuna had been left to her own devices to ensure she changed back to Nana before leaving the clubroom and heading to the student council room. And she had failed to do so properly.

On the plus side, it had been quite late, so the school had been mostly empty. But that was still part of the problem, it hadn’t been completely empty. There had still been potential witnesses to Nana’s errant display. She scoured her mind to form a list.

There had been Junko Ouchi, a second year in the information course who she passed on the stairs, though Nana didn’t think she noticed anything. Nori Yamane, a first year in the general course was running in the halls, so Nana stopped her, though she seemed too distracted to have noticed. And then there was…

Mifune Shioriko…

Shioriko had a discerning eye for detail. And she had been on the right side to have ample opportunity to notice the clip. And worse, she was familiar with both Nana and Setsuna.

Would Shioriko say anything if she had noticed?

Was it alright if one more person knew her secret?

Should she talk to Shioriko about the incident? Try to get ahead of any possible scandal?

But what if she hadn’t actually noticed? Should she risk mentioning it at all?

“Nana!” Her mother’s voice dragged Nana back to reality. “We’re home.”

“Welcome back.” Nana responded, heading toward the entry of the apartment. “Something smells good.” She commented upon arriving.

“We picked up some of your favorite on our way home tonight.” Mrs. Nakagawa said, motioning to the takeout bag in her husband’s hand. “Have you eaten yet?”

Nana shook her head. “I just got back myself.”

“The student council really has been keeping you busy these days, hasn’t it.” A statement more than a question.

“Mm.” Nana nodded.

“But your father and I know the student body is in good hands with our daughter in charge.”

Nana smiled at the compliment.

“Would you mind bringing the food to the table while your father and I get ready?”

“Of course.” Nana took the bag from her father and headed to the dining room.

It wasn’t the most common of occurrences that all three of them were able to share a meal together, so Nana thoughts now turned to a nice evening with her parents.

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Author’s Note Continued: First off, I’ve no idea if this will conflict with the events of Episode 6, as it has not aired yet as of originally posting this. As such, at least over on AO3, I will be sorting it into a new Event collection for Femslash Friday and will wait to see what Episode 6 reveals, or doesn’t reveal for that matter, before integrating it into TA proper. How I handle possible discrepancies here on Tumblr, I guess I’ll figure that out later, if I need to.

Next, the names Setsuna lists of girls she encountered in the halls of the school are not actual characters in the Love Live franchise, at least not as far as my knowledge is concerned. I just grabbed them from an online random name generator set to Japanese.

Third, yeah, this is yet another chapter about Ayumu working with Setsuna’s hair, but what can I say? I love the concept. And I really like the idea of Ayumu starting to help Setsuna swap back and forth with Nana.

As for Yuu, I’ve been looking for an excuse to write about her learning about styling hair. And what better way than for her to start with someone to whom she is close, like Setsuna? I will probably explore this idea further in future chapters.

And finally, I doubt I will ever cease being amused by Setsuna putting on her glasses, presumably while still wearing her contacts, just for the sake of answering the phone as Nana. And I will almost certainly well end up bringing that aspect of her over to my other fics as well. Ar at least MA, as I’m still figuring out how she feels about Nana in PoH.

#YuuAyuSetsu #Takasaki Yuu #Yuki Setsuna #Uehara Ayumu #Femslash Friday #Tri-Arame #Love Live Nijigasaki #fanfic

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saphirered · 3 years

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HIIII! It's me again (Eldritch knight reader) sorry I kinda dipped out but I hope you are having a great day! I was wondering if you could do one last request for that mini series of requests, where Essek finally asks reader on a real date and it's going great (Knight could notice some figures following them *cough* M9+verin *cough*??) there's some flirting/teasing but sadly the date comes to an end and reader walks essek home, they say their goodbyes for the night but not before reader finally kisses Essek and whispers a goodnight!

Hi! Welcome back. Now of course this wouldn't be me if halfway through writing I realised this was turning way too long so it'll be a two-parter again to keep it readable. Hope you don't mind. Any way, here's the first part so I hope you enjoy! 😘

A long day of disasters with the Nein returning just in time to be thrust into more relentless hours of study with Essek wasn’t exactly how you envisioned to spend your day and luckily for you Essek is a merciful soul, when it comes to you that is. Seeing how battered and bruised you were, and mentally exhausted he refused to let you touch his precious tomes or even scribble a single note on paper. He had even gone as far as making said smaller items disappear into the nothingness. Damn wrist pocket spell. Essek was determined. You needed rest. He’d make sure you got it.

So instead of hours upon hours spent at Essek’s home he opted for staying with you retreating to the upstairs of the Xhorhaus and finding the both of you a comfy spot to spend your time in a more relaxed environment. Essek sits, back against the tree while you lay sprawled across the floor next to his outstretched legs eyes closed as the wizard reads to you. He may not have allowed you to read for yourself as to not overwork yourself but the compromise you convinced him to was agreeable. More than agreeable if you’re honest.

It’s no secret you like spending time together as you do so a lot. You may be a little more affectionate with each other than say for example with Caleb or Jester. It doesn’t go unnoticed Essek likes you, if anything the man’s made it pretty clear and vice versa. Neither of you have just ever acted on it. With everything going on in your lives, how could you? You’re a ragtag adventurer with no allegiance to kingdom or country. He’s the bloody spymaster of the Dynasty. It’s not exactly a conventional prospect of a future, nor is it likely to succeed with the kind of lives you live. Could you really afford that kind of struggle? Maybe, if you were willing to take the risk but lately things have been hectic and this moment of relaxation beneath the tree at the top of this tower is the first moment of peace either of you have known in a long time.

You swear, you’re paying attention. You might still have to reread the whole book again as you’re just entranced by the sound of Essek’s voice. The man could make anything sound interesting. Give him those pages from that Iva lady back at the Chastity’s Nook in Zadash and Essek could make even that sound like a master piece. Though in hindsight, maybe best not as you think he might not be able to get past the first few sentences himself. The cringe.

“Are you still listening?” Essek’s reading voice breaks in favour of the question as he watches you drift off with a smile on your face. He’s almost afraid to ask the question but is unsure if that’s because you’ve grown tired or the subject bores you too much.

“Hm?” You perk up turning your head to the side and looking at the wizard. The exhaustion is written over your face but doesn’t diminish the content smile you present.

“Perhaps that is enough for the day?” Essek suggests closing the book and sits up a little straighter. He places the book by his side as you sit up and go to reach for it. Essek’s quicker and places his hand firmly on top of it and prevents you from taking it. He’s very sure you’d have no trouble retrieving the book if you really wanted to and maybe he’d like you to try, just a little, but you’re tired and need rest. Not fill your mind with pages of knowledge attempting to cram in the words. You’re a good study but even the best of studies cannot combat the banes of exhaustion.

“It is getting late anyway.” Essek says as you roll back and find yourself, head leaning against his thigh, looking up at the drow with a pout as he insinuates he’ll have to leave soon. You catch him off guard but he’s not opposed to the sense of affection and comfort you radiate. Physical affection is rare between the two of you especially since he’s very new to it in such contexts. He’s still getting used to it and he’d be lying if he said it’s unwelcome.

“If you say so.” You stay like this for a few more minutes before the ruckus downstairs pulls you out of your moment and you’re reminded Essek needs to head back to his own home. He still has business to attend to, business he’s been procrastinating in favour of spending more time with you. You sit back up, swing your legs beneath yourself and rise to your feet offering Essek a hand to help him to his feet.

“Essek, do you have a moment.” Caleb calls over as he enters the living space. The drow looks at you as if to ask if you know what this might be about or more like your permission to allow himself to be whisked away by the wizard interrupting your goodbye. You shrug.

“I should probably try and prevent this kitchen fire waiting to happen. I take it Cad’s still out getting groceries?” Caleb nods and you sigh shudder preparing for the oncoming disaster rushing into the kitchen like a valiant hero, albeit a little more domestic than your usual adventures, valiant no less.

A conversation between two wizards in one room and a homemade fluffernutter dismantled in another you reunite with Essek. There he is floating in all his glory, cloak back around his shoulders you see him off. Essek seems a little… nervous? Is that the right word? So you give Caleb a look but he acts all innocent. You know better than to trust that. Nevermind, you’ll have an easier time getting it out of Essek than Caleb if you need to. Caleb sends the others off to their own business persuading them to clean up before Caduceus returns and finds his precious kitchen in disarray or any other state he didn’t leave it in before he left. The firbolg is quite protective of his pride and joy. You lead Essek over to the hall but interpose yourself between him and the door crossing your arms and tapping your foot expectedly.

“So is this where you tell me what you and Caleb talked about or am I going to have to work for it?” The look you give Essek makes him want to spill all the beans right then right there but he wants to do this the right way and not be a blabbering incoherent mess. He has to do this the right way. You deserve that much; if not for the way he feels then simply for every effort you’d put in your actions to do with him.

“It’s to do with you.” Oh? Now you’re curious. “I asked Caleb for some advise.” What in the worlds would he need to go to Caleb for to get advise on to do with you? Essek’s not one to admit lacking either skill or knowledge when it’s about people and even less so to confide in another in such a way because by all means, his little side bar with with the redhead was anything but an interrogation to get information about character, motives and possible leverage like he would have navigated a political encounter.

“And what, pray tell could Caleb be lecturing you on?” You grin with he gentle stroke at Essek’s ego. If you know one thing, sweet-talking will get you everywhere with this man. Not that you’d minded. Not that you were lying. You’d never lie about such things. But you’re also not against using your opinions to gently persuade the drow in revealing what he’s hiding.

“Matters of heart. It seems I am at a disadvantage when expressing them to the subject of my affections.” Essek admits and you watch the skin of his cheeks to become a darker shade of purple. Damn, this is not going the way he envisioned it. Like a rock being tossed into the elemental plane of water, sinking into that eternal ocean.

“Oh really, now? It seems to me you’re doing perfectly fine.” Essek laughs awkwardly and looks to the floor to gather his bearings but when he feels your hand rise to his cheek and lift his gaze to look you in the eye, when you step in a little closer to him. He knows you’re teasing, or at least partially teasing. He also knows best to rip the bandaid off quickly and hope you’ll be merciful in your answer.

“I was wondering if you’d join me on an outing, tomorrow if it suits you?” Essek feels the words leave his lips. He doesn’t blurt them out like some lovesick fool and is thankful for that at least.

“Of course, will we be going to the library again? Or another shopping trip? Need me to carry more of those heavy papers again? Please can we do this time without any assassins sent to kill you? I think we could both do with a break for once.” You laugh and it becomes quite clear to Essek his phrasing might have been a little off so he’ll have to correct himself. Great. Just what he needs. Make this more awkward and difficult for himself than it already is. Maybe he would have been better off blurting out the words like a lovesick fool.

“What I had in mind would be more like a planned outing, a break from our usual lives and away from the responsibilities we both carry.” Essek clarifies and the copper drops for you.

“Essek, are you asking me to go on a date with you?” Yes. Yes. For the love of the gods, the Luxon and all that is sacred thank you for speaking the words correctly instead of leaving him to go in circles until he can’t anymore and dies from embarrassment. Why does he always turn into a mess when it comes to you? Because he likes you, a lot, maybe even more than just like. Definitely more than just that.

“That is exactly what I have been attempting and failing to convey, yes.” He admits ashamed. Your laugh makes for a good consolation though, no matter your answer. Up until now the possibility of your answer whichever outcome, had never been a bother to him as he never really gave asking you a thought, for his own sake or this may just have gone much worse with his tendency to overthink. In suspense he awaits. Not even the powers of dunamis at his fingertips could make the passage of time before your answer feel like less when in reality you barely missed a beat.

“Of course. I’d love nothing more.” You caress his cheek. Your smile grows from amusement to joy and Essek couldn’t be happier. He felt himself slipping into a smile of his own. Essek let himself go in that joy and relief you accepted rather than the stress of the actual date tomorrow. He’ll worry about that one later.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #essek thelyss x reader #essek x reader #critical role #mighty nein

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plush-rabbit · 3 years

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Twenty Minutes

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: Honestly, yall,, never stop giving me Tenko requests, I love him so much (also like if the current series wasn't going to happen, there was gonna be a tenko series but I felt like it added too much character to the reader but then I started thinking about it another way and ahh, too much talking, ill stop, okay enjoy!!)

Tenko is anxious. He can feel his skin crawl and he's desperately trying not to pick at it with nails fisted over a newly folded blanket, the chilly air from outside coming in from an open window to let any lingering smells dilute or fan out. The candle that you got him for his birthday is lit, the sweet scent of peach filling the room and fading before it can get too strong and overwhelm him. The flames flicker in and out, wisping against the gentle wind that enters through his window and coming to a still along with the leaves on the tree that stands outside his window.

Everything in his room is clean and in an orderly fashion. Figurines in place, posters straightened, sheets made and any lingering smells have been dealt with fresh air and the power of a candle. Everything is clean and tidy for when you arrive.

He shuts the window with a sigh. He turns and leans against the wall, a hand rubbing mindlessly over the gloves that cover his ring and pinky finger and wraps around his thumb. He stares at the floor, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and he runs over his mental checklist, desperate to find something else to fix so he isn’t alone with his thoughts.

"You're going to ruin your lips if you keep doing that," a sweet voice says and he startles, peeling himself off of the wall, a smile on his lips, only to fall when he sees that it isn't you.

He rolls his eyes and pulls out his chair, letting it roll as he comes to sit on it. "Aren't you and the rest supposed to be gone by now?"

Hana gasps, a look of offense written over her face. "Here I am doing you a favor by taking the family out of the house and you're going to rush me? Oh Tenko, and here I thought we were family."

He sighs and stands up from the chair, walking to the door and gently shoving his sister out. "You know family doesn't mean shit in this house," he states in a flippant tone. "Can you hurry up? I don't want them to think I want to introduce them to my family."

He hears her sigh but she doesn’t respond to his statements, choosing to walk in silence as they descend down the steps.

"We're already in the car, I just came to say bye." Her hand is placed on his shoulder in a comforting gesture and his face burns, the corner of his lip twitching. "We should be back in a few hours. I'll message you before we do, okay?" Her tone is sisterly, caring and fretting over him as if she’s the mother, gentle and eyes that crease with too much worry and it makes him sick. He gives her a look as they stand by the front door, the sound of a honking horn interrupting the quiet atmosphere. "So you can get them out and not have them meet us," she says with a slight laugh. There's another honk and Hana groans. "All right, I'll see you later. Be good," she says in a sing-song tone, letting the front door close with a soft click.

He sits on the couch, phone pulled out of his pocket to wait for your message that you're arriving. He rereads the messages you sent confirming today's plans. As much as he wanted to cancel, he also wanted to spend time with you and he's been looking forward to this ever since you offered the idea and he might owe Hana a lot after this but it'll be worth it.

His foot taps nervously on the floor and he's just so nervous waiting for you to arrive. Realistically he knows you wouldn't cancel on him but he can't help the awful, twisting feeling that he'll wait for hours for you to never show. His face already burns with the thought of you not showing up, humiliation settling in deep within, his neck aches and fingers twitch, crawling up his body to pull taut against his neck. He hisses, tears springing in his eyes as red lines begin to mark him.

There's a knock on his door and he startles. His hand falls from his neck and immediately the palm rubs over in a soothing motion, his rough hand irritating at the skin. He stands and takes a look at his phone, an unread message from you stating that you'll be over in five minutes and true to your word, it's been five minutes since that message.

He pats at his skin and runs a hand down his hair, twirling at a dark strand and letting it unfurl from around his finger. He sucks in a deep breath and opens the door with a lazy smile.

You stand in front of him, backpack in hand and he can smell the fruity scent of your perfume on you. He clears his throat and offers a breathless hello, scrambling to move over to the side and welcome you in. He can feel heat pool around his body, face burning with sudden self-consciousness, as he failed to spray himself in cologne.

You give him a soft smile as you enter, taking your shoes off and placing them beside the door. "No hug, Ten?" You ask with a fake pout, lips turning into a smile before too long. He sees your eyes flicker to his neck, the slightest fraction of your eyes opening as you take notice of the welting spots.

He stiffens and looks away from you, eyes narrowed and red dusting at his cheeks. "I'll get you slippers," he murmurs and flinches when you grab at his wrist, coming to a still.

"Tenko," you say softly, "relax. It's just me." You let his wrist go and he stands in place, sucking in a deep breath through his nose, your hand coming to hold into the back of his shirt. "Let's just go study in your room."

He swallows his anxiety and turns to face you, your hand falling from his shirt and back to your side. You give him an encouraging smile and he steps close to you, wrapping his arms around your body, head buried into the curve of your neck where the perfume smells stronger. It's a hug that lasts for less than minute but one where you return it with the same intensity as you always have, arms tight around him, humming into him, as you press yourself close to his body, the brush of your lips ghosting above his skin and he’s left breathless, pulling away too soon for his liking, grabbing you gently by the hand and leading you through to his room.

His eyes widen when he sees that he left the candle on, hurriedly scrambling to blow it out, blinking and wincing when the smoke floats to his eyes. He turns to see you give him a knowing smile, eyes flashing back and forth between the candle and he gives you a halfhearted shrug.

“Smells nice,” he mumbles, clearing his throat. “Thanks for it.”

“I’m just glad that you used it,” you chirp, holding the straps of your backpack and teetering between on your soles before rocking back to the front. Your socks are printed with fruit, a soft gray with red cherries printed all over. “If I had to be honest, I was afraid you weren’t going to use it.” He gives you a raise of his thin brows, coming to grab at his chair, offering the seat to you. “You just didn’t seem like the type to light up candles, is all.” You take the seat with a thankful smile and pull out a book, flipping through the pages flippantly. “I felt like it would’ve been better if I had given you one of those car pine trees.”

He snorts and grabs at his own book bag, pulling out a matching book. “Funny. Car things are more of Takami’s style.” He hears you chuckle and he thinks it's enough to end the conversation there.

“Where are you sitting?” You look at him with your book in your lap, your head tilted as you look around as if waiting for another chair to pop up.

“Huh?” he says gracelessly.

You give him a tired smile. “Where are you sitting?” He blinks at you and you laugh this time, rich and filling his room with pure joy. “Do you have another chair? I don’t want you sitting on the floor- doesn’t seem becoming of an up and coming hero. Unless,” you give him a coy smile and his face burns, “you want me to sit on your lap? Or you on mine?” He chokes on his spit and you laugh louder, wheezing between breaths and clutching the book until your knuckles turn white. “Shit Ten, I’m sorry,” you say through a fit of giggles. “But seriously,” a burst of laughter breaks your sentence, “where are you sitting?”

He hadn’t thought about that. He could go get Hana’s chair but that would require too much effort and it would be awkward to have you see him struggle to fit a chair through his door. He can’t risk letting you see him as a stumbling and awkward person. He turns to his bed and he knows that it’s a dumb idea- horrible, really- and the chance of you two actually studying is low but it’s already low and- well fuck, he clears his throat and sits on the edge of his bed.

“Let’s just study on my bed.” He ignores the way your smile grows into something less of teasing and more genuine, filled with excitement as your lips curl. “It’s more comfortable-” he looks away from you and onto a pillow that was recently fluffed- “and we can share notes and-”

“You’re okay with having me on your bed?” He turns to look at you and your smile is softer now, excitement contained at the seams. You rise from where you sit and stand in front of him, hand gripping the book in front of your chest and he stares at the book, unable to meet your eyes. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Tenko.”

Hearing his name leave your lips always makes his heart skip, a light squeeze around the organ and he nods. “You never make me feel uncomfortable,” he mutters.

He assumes it must have been the correct thing to say from the way you kiss the crown of his head and sit beside him, head on his shoulder and he nods his head against yours, letting his eyes close for just a moment while you twi sit in silence, your hand coming to hold his and he wishes that he didn’t need the gloves, he wants to hold your hand fully in his, no fabric in between, just skin against skin.

“Then let’s get studying,” you whisper and he nods.

The bed creaks as the both of you fix into a comfortable position, shoulder against shoulder, sticky notes plastered against the textbook, pages turned in synchronization as he reads the text and you write down his examples. Black hair accessorized with bunny themed clips keeping the bangs away from his vision. He lays next to you, books outstretched and your head buried into the space between your crossed arms, your eyes blinking slowly, trying desperately to stay awake. He calls your name and you answer with a hum, your eyes slowly falling to a close. The room lingers with a light peach scent, mixed in with your own fruity scent and he risks a glance towards you. Your book lays open on a page that you both have long passed, pencil in between the pages and your eyes on his hands.

“Tenko,” you murmur, stretching your legs, your socks hitting against his calf and he gives you a grunt of acknowledgement. “I’m tired.” You yawn as if to emphasize your words, your hand leaving from under your arm, indents from your clothes printed onto it, and you reach over to hold his hand, interlacing his hand with yours. “Can we take a nap together?”

“We have a test on Monday,” he whispers, staring at the interlaced hands.

“And you’ll do great on it,” you yawn, stretching out the last word. “Just a twenty minute one.” You close your book, a space where the pencil keeps your page opened. “I’ll play with your hair,” you tempt, grabbing his pencil and mimicking your book, pencil placed between the pages and closing it, shoving it towards the pillows.

“You’ll fall asleep before you do,” he retorts, slipping his hand away from you, turning on his side and opening his arms, the corner of his lips twitching as you bury your face into his chest. “You’re going to fail if you don’t take this seriously,” he warns, pressing his lips against your temple.

“And then I can get you as a tutor.” He bunches the back of your shirt as you press your lips against his chest, right over his heart, feeling it quicken its beat under the thin fabric.

“And I thought I sucked at school,” he says under his breath, his arm bending to rest his head against, eyes slowly coming to a close.

“You’re smart,” your words start to slur, softening and pausing in between, “you just turn in things late.” He opens his mouth to retort, bitterness laced into the unspoken words, already leaving an aftertaste in his mouth, throat feeling as if it’s on fire. “I don’t like it when you start saying mean things about yourself. You’re smart Ten, you just find the work boring.” Your legs come between his, knotting them together, your hand reaching to the back of his head and lightly pulling against the dark tufts. “Twenty minutes and then we can wake up,” you murmur, your hands already slowing down their movements, starting up again in short intervals where you stroke quickly only to slow.

He lays next to you, keeping you wrapped up in his arms, your face squished against his chest, hands coming to a final slow as they part through the ends and fingertips brushing gently against the back of his neck, and grifting to his back. He’s covered in goosebumps, eyes half lidded as he strokes your back and plays with the end of your hair, nose buried against your head as he lays staring at the candle that you bought him.

“Twenty minutes, huh?” He says to himself, taking a peek at your still frame, and soft murmurs of your sleep. “I guess this isn’t so bad.” He swallows the lump in his throat, kissing the top of your head and resting against you.

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cptsdstudyblr · 3 years

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Cults & Religious Abuse PART 2: So you’re in a cult?

If you don’t want to see this series, you can block #cptsdstudyblrreligion

tw// cults, religion, religious abuse, religious trauma, mentions of other types of abuse

PART 1: Q & A

In this post I will be speaking somewhat specifically about my experiences that led to religious trauma, so please be cautious when reading this post. The tips and resources are at the bottom and are bullet points, so feel free to skip to there if you aren’t comfy with the post itself.

Maybe you were raised in a religion, maybe you or your family joined a religion later in your life, or maybe you’ve gotten involved in a cult in some other way. But one day you wake up and you realize that you need to get out. But how? In this I’ll be sharing the basics of my experiences in a cult-like fundamentalist religion, how I got out, and some resources I think are helpful for people in similar situations.

Before I get into the details, I want to make one thing clear: I am not a woman. I am non-binary. However, I was raised a woman and that was a huge part of the way these experiences affected me, so I will be including that perspective in this post.

I also want to make it clear that I am not against religion in general or against people practicing religion. This post is not intended to attack religion as a concept, but to shed light on specific extremely harmful religious practices.

My family’s relationship with religion is on the complicated side, but I’ll briefly explain it for context. Both of my parents were raised fairly generically Catholic. My grandparents on my dad’s side are now loosely Catholic, but don’t explicitly practice religion. My grandmother on my mom’s side has since converted to protestant Christianity at my mom’s suggestion. My dad has been either apathetic or even hostile towards religion for as long as I can remember and rarely attended church with me and my mom, but my mom has always been religious. These are the primary influences in my life, as I’m not close enough to any other family members for their religious beliefs to have had significant impact on me.

My mom is where it gets complicated. Although she was raised Catholic, she explored protestant Christianity starting a few years before my birth and quickly converted. For most of my actual childhood my mom was a pretty average protestant Christian. We moved a lot, so we attended churches in a variety of denominations, including several more charismatic and prosperity-gospel based megachurches, but when I was around 9 years old, my mom fell down a rabbit hole of Messianic Christianity through one of these churches, which I believe is where it all started to fall apart. Just to clarify, although this group of beliefs is technically referred to as Messianic Judaism, I refer to my experience with it as Messianic Christianity as I am in no way Jewish (and thus feel uncomfortable calling my religious experiences Judaism) and the messianic movement is harmful to actual Jewish people.

This move into Messianic Christianity pushed my mom to start rereading and reinterpreting the Bible and she consequently decided that she was not enamored with the teachings of the church we attended at the time. I strongly believe that her understanding of that study was also heavily influenced by the domestic violence and instability going on in our home at the time, as she was unable to connect to the overwhelmingly positive messages that our church preached. So, she moved us to another church. This was a church we had attended some in the past while trying to find a home church after a move, but hadn’t really stuck with, so it wasn’t an entirely new church. Because of this, I generally say that I attended this church from the age of 9 although we did not attend this church consistently until I was around 11. This church was a nondenominational Bible church closely associated with Grace Community Church in Sun Valley, CA, which is pastored by John MacArthur. I’d encourage you to take a look at the basic teachings of John MacArthur and of this church in some depth as they are already quite problematic. The linked article is really just one example of the kind of teachings that are prevalent here, and I’d encourage you to follow this rabbit hole as far as it takes you because it’s fascinating.

The church that we moved to was extremely fundamentalist. Unfortunately, I’m not comfortable linking the actual church for fear of doxxing myself, but the teachings of this church are pretty much exactly in line with those Grace Community Church and the other organizations I will mention soon. This church also unofficially followed the teachings of the Institute for Basic Life Principles (IBLP). When I say unofficially, I mean that my church was not publically associated with IBLP, but they were definitely associated with IBLP in reality. And again, I’d really encourage you to browse through their website to get a feel for their teachings. However, as a basic summary, if you’re familiar with the Duggar family from the TLC reality show 19 Kids and Counting, they are members of IBLP and everything they teach was taught fairly similarly at my church. I won’t go into the details of what the teachings were, but they were about as fundamentalist Christian as you could come up with. Sexism, racism, homophobia, transphobia, abuse, etc. but turned up to 11/10. And it was a very closed circle. So how did I get out and end up where I am now - a bi-romantic asexual non-binary university student studying STEM at an incredibly liberal university?

It wasn’t easy. But I did get somewhat lucky. Unlike 90% of the kids at my church, I was not homeschooled after 8th grade. Instead, I went to a private Christian school - this was definitely still harmful and contributed to my trauma but it did give me opportunities to be exposed to people and ideas outside my fundamentalist Christian bubble. It also encouraged me to attend university, as it was expected of all graduates from that school. My dad wasn’t religious, and he and my mom divorced right before I graduated from high school. Additionally, my mom did encourage me to continue my education despite the teachings at our church. I’m not sure why she encouraged this, but she did. So I got lucky that things in my life pointed me in a direction of further education. And I got further lucky that the main school in my state is the school it is. It’s a school that is incredibly left-leaning and secular, and ultimately it pushed me extremely far outside my comfort zone.

I am extremely grateful for the opportunities that made it easier for me to get out of this situation, but I did still have to work for it. Here are my suggestions for surviving a cult-like environment and for eventually getting out:

Do everything you can to expose yourself to other ideas and beliefs. I assume that if you recognize you’re in this type of situation and want to escape, you already know that you disagree with the beliefs that are being forced on you at some level. But it’s important to further educate yourself where possible and figure out your beliefs. Figuring out what you believe and being committed to it is key in being able to stick to leaving your environment. If you know you disagree, but you can’t articulate why you disagree or what you believe and you aren’t committed to your beliefs, you will be very easy to convince that you are wrong and you will be very easy to manipulate.

If you’re on tumblr reading this, you probably have access to the internet, so use that to your advantage. Research things, read articles, and involve yourself in discussions. If you struggle with internet access, you can read books, magazines, and newspapers at your local library and potentially even join clubs through your library or school. Not everything you learn has to be political or about religion. Reading and learning will broaden your horizons, give you concrete interests outside religion, encourage you to learn about things that make you uncomfortable, etc.

If you are involved in a religion that has a text, read it critically and read nonreligious analyses of it. You don’t necessarily have to agree with these analyses, but thinking critically about the text you’ve been raised to take as complete fact will help you realize what you actually believe.

Find others who agree with you. In high school, I had a couple of friends at church who were “rebels” too, and we’re still friends to this day. We moved on together, and it really helped me be able to get out because I wasn’t doing it alone.

If you have to physically leave to get away, make sure you have enough money and have a backup plan. If you leave and are forced to come back for any reason, leaving again will be infinitely harder. If you leave, make sure it can be for good. It doesn’t necessarily have to be permanent, but if you come back it has to be on your own terms and not out of necessity.

Don’t get yourself kicked out and be safe no matter what.

Some resources I think are helpful:

Find an LGBT Center (US only) - LGBT centers are incredibly helpful for issues that go beyond being LGBT+, and if you’re eligible to use them they can be a great resource

The Trevor Project - LGBT+ resources and crisis lines

Tumblr post describing what to do if you’re homeless - It’s from Tumblr, so take it with a grain of salt, but it seems like pretty solid advice.

How to leave a cult - Very basic guide, but has some good advice.

Quiz to help you figure out your political beliefs (US based, but has some other countries as well) - I’d suggest taking this a few times as you develop your beliefs, and I’d also suggest clicking “more questions” as many times as possible in every category to ensure that you cover a broad range of topics.

How Ideology Colors Morality - about how morality frames US politics

Ethics - a good place to start when looking at different ways of analyzing ethics. My high school ethics class is a huge component in why I questioned my own beliefs. Ethics is an eye-opening topic.

List of all the religions - exploring different religions and belief systems helped open my mind to new ideas and ways of thinking about the world

If you want me to help you research something or find resources for a specific situation, feel free to message me or send me an ask and I’m happy to help (you can also ask me other questions, my asks and DMs are always open!)

And as always, if I made a mistake or linked a bad resource, please feel free to let me know so that I can correct the issue ASAP. I always try to do my research thoroughly, but things can slip by since I am but a human. Thank you!

#cptsdstudyblrreligion #cptsd #ptsd #trauma #religious trauma #religious abuse #religion #christianity #fundamentalism #ex fundamentalist #cult #ex cult #fundie #ex fundie #ex christian #christian

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chilly-me-softly · 4 years

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Little One • James Maddison/Ben Chilwell

A special happy birthday from me for a special person x

"Wake up, November is heeere!" the boy jumps on the bed hugging -or almost suffocating- his friend under the covers.

James loves November. First of all because it's his birth month and he loves his birthday, being able to look back and think about how his life has changed in those twelve months. The ability to set new goals to be achieved during the next year. The unpredictability of everything but the certainty of being better and better every day.

Ben complains. "How did you get in?" the boy mumbles, buried under the weight of the boy who is crushing him, rubbing his cheek along the arm of his friend.

"I slept here Chilly, remember?" he murmurs in a soft tone very close to his ear and the brunette should really add a blanket to his bed because the temperature dropped dramatically in those days.

Ben sighs as he passes a hand over his face, usually in the morning it takes him a whole minute to wake up completely. And sleeping with James, who is constantly hyperactive, doesn't work in his favour. Not at all.

"It's November, Ben" repeats the blonde again, this time more calmly but always as excited as a child, and straddling Ben's legs who is turned on his side and watching his eyes shine for a reason he can't catch.

"I know, Madders. Just yesterday it was Halloween" he says knowingly, earning a pinch on his side that makes him twitch.

"Beeen" he complains by jumping slightly on his side while the boy giggles slightly below him and tries to stop the rush of pinches that are inevitably coming on his body.

"Okay okay, enough" he murmurs frantically after a while, in the action he managed to move and put himself in a more comfortable position and now he finds himself just trapped between James' legs. Looking down on him and the heavy blankets should be in the guest room closet. "Why are you so excited?"

"Really you don't remember?" murmurs James looking down. For a moment his face loses its smile, then peeps out again shaking his head as if nothing had happened and jumping back on his legs. His hands open to hold on to Ben's chest, who may suddenly not need all those new blankets. "Can wait for my birthday, little one" he hums slightly forward.

And the guttural sound that comes from Ben causes a shake along the back for both of them. “Don’t. Not the time yet”

The truth is that growing up and goals were something James had always done since he was a child. Like New Year's resolutions, only his year had always begun since his birthday. Setting goals was challenging and he had learned that even if he couldn't get them all off his list during the year, the important thing was to try and do his best. Always be satisfied even with the smallest and most insignificant goal achieved because overall it's the small things that make a person great. He kept them all in a box in his closet and doesn't deny that when he is down, he reread them to have a laugh and find his focus again. The purposes to hold on to in order to overcome the moments of vacillation.

But since Ben had become part of his life, November had also become something else. He was anxiously waiting for his birthday because from there to Ben's, on the 21st of the following month, he would be older than him. And it may have seemed like a nonsense to strangers, and probably it was. But seeing him roll his eyes with that smirk that betrayed his fun. The slight shade of pink on his cheeks when the others playing alongside with him. His fake bothered face at which he always tries not to burst into laughing because come on, how can a face so sweet get so angry?

Twenty-eight days. Twenty-eight days in which to act as a 'big' when in reality he’s only looking for attention from his little one. Twenty-eight days of pure madness, when everything was forgiven. Because no matter how annoyed he seems, there are still a lot of attention from James. And those twenty-eight days always passed too fast.

The first message he sees on the phone as soon as he opens his eyes is from Ben. By midnight he had text him, nothing so sappy or mellow. A simple 'Happy Birthday Madders x' and he had smiled because he was practically two rooms away and yet when he touched a soft surface, it was difficult to get him up. ‘Thanks little one xx' had been his answer and the conversation had continued with a series of angry and crying faces from Ben, to whom he had responded with a smiley face sending kisses and a smile on his lips. And at the bottom left there is a huge red heart beating, the brunette had sent him a few minutes before, and he remains staring at him like a fool. As the phone continues to vibrate for the various messages and notifications that are coming.

They have an away game that day and he is ready to wear his club's shirt and represent it, doing his best, even on that special day for him.

Breakfast proceeds in the confusion of having a room booked only for them. The boys sang him the usual birthday song, replacing the cake with a croissant. The inevitable cheap candle that had almost melted on the food and some photos taken for the occasion. Then everyone had returned to focus on the game, there would be time for the celebrations. Hoping with an extra victory on the belt.

They had come to pick him up and, in a hurry, he had crumpled up the blue sheet and left it on the table. He would have thought about it when he came back. He certainly didn't want to be fined the day before his birthday. The list could have waited, if nothing else it would have removed certain thoughts from his head.

But he had to know that things didn't always go as planned. His grandmother always told him, haste makes waste. And many times he had paid the price. Without ever learning the lesson, you could add.

He had opened the door to his house, entering with Ben in behind him. The boy had made a small stop at his house just to put down his small suitcase and then spend the evening with James as planned. But he really felt the need for a hot shower and so he left Ben alone, as if he were at his own home.

It had taken him about ten minutes, and when he went down to the kitchen he swears his heart stopped beating for a second before he threw himself at the boy and literally pulled the note out of his hands.

"I..." he's out of breath, his throat is closing and the air hardly reaches his lungs. And fortunately his brain is able to force his legs to run away from that room, which seems to be getting smaller as the seconds pass. And he goes to lock himself in his room.

His chest rises and falls irregularly, he can't calm down. He knows he's ruined everything, it's so obvious. How did it occur to him to write that thing? Taken by a moment of anger, he throws the lamp against the wall and stays still, staring at the countless pieces that are scattered around the room.

A bit like him at that moment. Only that the lamp is broken, it's no longer useful. He will throw it away and probably replace it. But he can’t do this with himself, he’ll have to live with that broken piece inside his chest forever.

He doesn't know how he feels at the moment, he just knows that his heart continues to beat so fast and his ears make a dull, almost annoying sound.

"James" Ben's voice comes muffled through the door as he tries to lower the handle and enter, "James, please let me in" he prays from outside, but he shakes his head passing a hand through his hair and lets himself fall to the ground. His back rests against the bed and his head between his legs, just like when he was a child and no one chose him in his team because he was too small.

On the list he had written for his 22nd birthday, almost all the point were checked. He had managed to be called into the England senior squad and have his first game time, to have a good season at Leicester, to work hard and be a volunteer. But there was one point on which he couldn't and would never put a line on top. It was a point he would continue to write forever. It meant friendship, support, health, companionship, love.

He remembers clearly when he added it. They had hastily returned home after a thunderstorm had caught them in the fresh air and his eyes had looked at him differently while the boy was intent on rubbing his hair with a towel. Smiling, showing his white teeth and with a special light in his eyes. He'd been on those lists all his life and never once had he fervently wanted to add a point like in that moment.

Three letters on the bottom of the sheet, hastily written with the interested person in the next room. Nothing else.

But he had suddenly filled in the new one and, once it was over, going to check again he had actually realized what he had written. Kissing Ben. He had panicked, convinced that someone would have been able to read it -even though it had never happened in the almost ten years before- and had erased the point with countless lines, crumpling the paper and throwing it on the table away from him. And well, then everything went wrong.

Of all the people with whom he might even have made up some stupid excuse. No, it had to be him. A choked scream comes out of his lips, muffled by his legs. But it's audible to the boy sitting out there who stands up and walks away with an idea in his head.

In the room, James hears the steps moving away and goes into full panic mode. Now he really thinks that the brunette has gotten fed up with him and his behaviour and has definitively left his house and his life forever.

Well done James, now everytime you’ll think about your birthday you- but he’s forced out of his thoughts by a sheet of paper slipping under the door. With his eyes still glossy, he crawls towards it and takes it. Ben on the other side smiles slightly as the sheet disappears and takes a shaking breath.

To do list:

Persuading James to always call me little one (I love it btw x)

Having James around for the rest of my lif

Play alongside James forever

Kissing James

Asking James out for a date

That's what he reads on the paper once it's in focus and he has to double check to make sure he hasn't got it wrong.

That's when he locks the door and Ben opens it. The two are sitting on either side of the door with crossed legs, looking into each other's eyes looking for something. Truth, mock, hesitation, love, words. No one knows. There are only their eyes establishing a new contact between them, studying themselves shy as if they had never seen each other before.

#james maddison #ben chilwell #james maddison imagine #james maddison imagines #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell imagines #football imagine #football imagines #james maddison/ben chilwell #happy bday james

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rosalind-of-arden · 4 years

Text

Sword and Pen Reread, chapter 13 part 2

Or: now I babble about Wolfe more.

A bit of superstition: Wolfe thinks of Orpheus as he’s leaving the Necropolis, and not only does he not look back himself, he makes the kids go ahead of him.

In the prison in Smoke and Iron, Wolfe didn’t recognize Troll right away. Here, he does. A sign of just how out of it he was in prison?

Getting into the carrier, Wolfe feels tired. When did Wolfe last sleep?

“It was the gamble of it he loved, more than anything else: the pure will of those ancients who’d understood that without knowledge, there could be no truth.” This is so Wolfe. He likes defying the odds and he values education. This is why he loves the kids so much: they’re doing the same thing.

“he suddenly wished for peace, for the days and nights he’d spent traveling with Nic on the way to some dire crisis or another” Only Christopher Wolfe would define peace as the travel time between war zone missions.

Things Wolfe likes doing: “days they spent talking, or not talking, making love or just lying together, reading. Playing a nightly game of chess, or Egyptian sennet, or the board games of ancient Ur.” I do appreciate that sex is on the list, not only because I write Wolfe/Santi porn, but also because it’s such a completely normal thing that the text treats as completely normal - media tends so often to get weird about sex where gay couples and parents are concerned, so it’s nice to see this. The whole passage is just so sweet, and I am now craving Wolfe/Santi fluff.

Alexandria isn’t built to handle storms, which Wolfe describes as rare. The streets are flooded, and that’s apparently what always happens in weather like this.

Going into the conference room, Wolfe is already uncomfortable. He can tell something is wrong. And he looks to Santi for comfort, taking a brief moment to appreciate seeing Nic, and then addressing him by his first name even though this is obviously a Curia meeting.

A lot of denial once Wolfe hears what happened. “Santi did not fail.” Not admitting to himself why he would be invited to this meeting. Some part of him knows what they’re about to ask, and he’s fighting it.

“He stared at her. His eyes burned, and for a moment, he thought it was with tears, but no, no, it was anger. He couldn’t speak. Could hardly breathe for the pressure of fury building in his chest.” He’s furious, yes. But also, don’t these sound an awful lot like panic attack symptoms?

Wolfe turns to Nic for support, but Nic won’t look at him. Part of that is Nic being caught up in his own distress, but I suspect there’s also an element of not wanting to interfere. Wolfe and Santi have very recently argued about Wolfe being able to make his own choices, and that gives Nic a very strong motivation to stay out of this so that he doesn’t influence Wolfe’s decision.

Wolfe and Vargas were in the same class. They didn’t like each other. Probably because they’re too much alike - Vargas sounds like the cranky snarky sort, too. What I want to know is how Santi and Vargas got along.

Very satisfying to see Wolfe call the Curia out here. He knows they don’t really want him as Archivist, and he’s not mincing words.

Here’s Wolfe’s first moment of considering and rejecting something he wanted in the past. It’s never stated directly that he wanted to be Archivist, but we’ve had hints that he was ambitious. He imagines himself on the throne, but it’s “disorienting”, “it made him want to laugh, but he knew it would come out as half a sob.” He recognizes how much he’s changed since he was young and ambitious, and he’s also grieving what he’s lost.

“What a sour joke this was, that the same colleagues who’d looked the other way when he was dragged off in the night, when his work was scrubbed from the shelves and his body broken in the cells in Rome... those same colleagues wanted him to be their shelter. Their scapegoat.” And here’s why Wolfe rejects his earlier ambition: he can’t stand to work with the people who did nothing when the Library tried to destroy him. In a way, what the Curia is doing here is the same as what they did when Wolfe was arrested. They’re afraid, and they’ll let him be hurt rather than risk their own necks. They let him be tortured and erased rather than speak up for him. They’d rather let him be murdered or take the blame for anything that goes wrong than put themselves in that position. After everything he’s been through, he can’t tolerate that.

Best fucking moment in the book. Wolfe accepting the robe just to put it on Khalila and announce his retirement. Turning things around on the Curia and simultaneously putting leadership in place that won’t stand for the kind of corruption that resulted in his imprisonment. Khalila is young, idealistic, and stubborn enough to handle the Curia’s shit, and Wolfe knows it.

Still calling Nic by his first name. Wolfe doesn’t just want to hear from Lord Commander Santi, he wants to know what Dad Santi thinks of putting their kid on the throne, and this more intimate form of address subtly signals that.

Dad Santi supports Khalila for Archivist, even though he’s worried about her.

Morgan knows how to make an entrance. Does Eskander really agree, or is Morgan doing this on her own, knowing the Curia won’t ask questions?

Wolfe is aware of Morgan’s corruption. This suggests he could sense it in Ash and Quill, too.

“Beautiful, but fading like a winter rose, and seeing that hurt. I failed her, he thought. But he knew he couldn’t have helped her, either. Sometimes there were no good choices to be made. Only costly ones.” Wolfe’s guilt over Morgan’s corruption is very different than his guilt over Jess’s poisoning. What happened to Jess was a mistake that Wolfe could potentially have prevented. Asking Morgan to overuse her power was a more conscious choice on Wolfe’s part, and one that he knew the risks of when he made it. He knows he’s losing both of them, and both losses hurt, but he blames himself less for Morgan.

Apparently, a gold band is the only requirement to be Archivist.

“I agree with Wolfe; he hasn’t the inhuman patience necessary for the job. Neither do I, Christopher.” Vargas, being simultaneously friendly and insulting. Wolfe actually appreciates this, which is interesting, since he’s just expressed a profound distaste for the Curia and he usually prickles when called by his first name by people he dislikes. He may get along with Vargas better than he lets on.

Santi felt guilty enough over losing Murasaki to resign as Lord Commander. Under the circumstances, I really don’t think that’s a rational response. Of course there will be traitors in the ranks right after forcibly removing the old leadership, and it’s impossible to account for everything. But Santi isn’t thinking rationally. In his view, he’s had one failure after another for the past few months: betraying his company in Rome, failing to protect the pack in the Iron Tower and London, being too injured to do anything in Philly, failing to protect Wolfe and the kids in Castle Raby... The current battle isn’t won yet and the outcome is still uncertain. Losing the Archivist to soldiers the thought he could trust was just the last straw for him. But also, potentially, this could be a sign of some kind of pre-series friendship with Murasaki.

Lord Commander is eligible to be Archivist. Not that Nic wants anything to do with it. Under better circumstances, would he feel differently? Probably not; he knows what he’s good at, and that’s military leadership, not politics.

South American Vargas says “gods”, plural. Standard Library rhetorical polytheism or a sign of some form of polytheism being a major religion where she’s from?

Wolfe has a total dad moment, being simultaneously proud that his baby is the Archivist and terrified that he can’t help her.

The Curia stands respectfully for Khalila. “Wolfe leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.” Nice try, Wolfe, but we already know how much you care.

Santi feels better when there’s a job to do. Now that Khalila is Archivist, he needs to protect his kid, and he’s ready to get to work on that.

Wolfe knows Santi’s failure to protect Murasaki “would haunt him forever.” How many other past failures still weigh on Nic?

The only ones who can Translate into or out of the Archives are Morgan and Eskander. She now has equal access to him. They’re effectively sharing the Obscurist Magnus position, really.

Morgan has already planned to copy the Archives. Khalila has researched the Library’s history of making copies and is prepared to argue for it. And neither of them gives a damn what the Curia has to say about it. Wolfe suspects Morgan has already started the copying, and Khalila has no problem wielding her authority as Archivist to authorize it over any objections from the Curia.

As soon as Khalila calls on Santi to start planning defense strategies, Wolfe heads out. Interesting timing. Not being part of the Curia, he’s probably a bit uncomfortable being there, but I think this is also a gesture of trust in Nic’s ability to handle this.

“That was not the voice of his student. It was the voice of his queen.” Love this line. Nice sign of how Khalila inhabits her role. Also, somebody needs to include this in a Wolfe/Khalila fic.

And the chapter ends with Wolfe now having one more kid to worry about. Thomas is missing.

#the great library #sword and pen reread #sword and pen spoilers #long post

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

Text

791.

1. What made you pick up the last book you started reading? >> I’m not sure why I’m back into my Dark Tower reread (which I’d originally started like a year-plus ago but then abandoned once I got to Wizard & Glass, predictably). Maybe it’s just that time. But god, are these books fucking long-winded (and not even for good reason, if you ask me). 2. Have you received any bad or troubling news lately? >> No. 3. When was the last time you were relieved about something? >> I’m not sure. 4. What about your life concerns you the most? >> The only major concern I have right now is whether my income is going to remain the same now that I’m part of a household, and since Social Security takes a dog’s age to fucking process anything, having to wait for months to find out is not helping. 5. Is there a common thing most people seem to do without trouble, but it scares you (talking on the phone, driving, interviews, etc)? When was the last time you had to do one of these kinds of things? >> I am horrible with phone conversation, I can’t drive, and I have no idea how I would perform in an interview because I’m generally unemployable enough that I haven’t had a chance to experience an interview. So those three examples are actually pretty good ones. I also have trouble with connecting with people even superficially, navigating relationship dynamics, managing my emotions without resorting to destructive impulses, dealing with the ups and downs of being an organic creature (this encompasses a lot of mundane shit that I’m sure most people don’t even think twice about), and properly managing sensory input.

6. Is a pen pal something you would enjoy? If so, what kinds of little things would you send your pen friends? >> I don’t know. I’m just not sure what-all I would have to say to a pen pal. 7. Describe a time when you were there for a friend? >> --- 8. When was the last time you went somewhere for the first time? >> January was the first time I went to Texas (aside from layovers in the DFW airport). 9. What is a situation that makes you feel especially confident? >> I’m not sure. 10. What was the subject of your most recent conversation? >> Can Calah and I were just talking through something I was going through. 11. Hypothetically and generally speaking, how would you go about breaking up with someone? Is there anything you would make sure to say, or perhaps not say? >> I don’t know, man. The last time I broke up with someone it was a pretty quick and vicious affair on both ends. I don’t know when, if ever, I will be in that situation again but I guarantee you it won’t be any time soon. 12. Are you more of a night person or a day person? What is it about the night/day that you favor? >> Day. I like to see the Sun (or at least experience the possibility of seeing the Sun). Also, I sleep at night, so it’s not like I see much of it... 13. What do you find particularly offensive? Would you say you’re easy or difficult to offend? >> I’m not sure what I find offensive, aside from, you know, bigotry. I guess that means I’m difficult to offend? I really just don’t have room in my head for most people’s bullshit, I’ve got my own bullshit to deal with. 14. Is there a belief you have that most others around you don’t have? Do you share this belief with others, or do you tend to keep it to yourself? Have you ever offended anyone with this belief? >> I don’t know if I have a belief that most others around me don’t have, particularly because there aren’t many other people around me in the first place. 15. Do you consider internet friendships as important as offline friendships, or do you view them differently? >> I think a friendship is a friendship, and the importance of said friendship is simply based on how committed the people involved are. 16. When was the last time you visited relatives or friends of the family? Is visiting family something you enjoy? >> --- 17. What did you do for the last holiday or event you celebrated? >> I don’t celebrate V-Day, but we did go out to an event simply because it looked fun (and it was). 18. If you’ve moved out from home, what was the scariest thing about it? What was/is your favorite thing about it? >> The scariest thing about it was that I ended up homeless and stayed that way for a long time. The best thing about it was that my life was finally my own. 19. Are there any fictional characters you like even though they’re “bad” or “evil?” What qualities draw you to a character? >> Well, yeah, those are the ones I usually gravitate towards. I just greatly appreciate a good villain. Also, the people in stories that have qualities that I relate to -- unresolved trauma, difficulty managing emotions, feelings of alienation and of being monstrous, coming off as aloof or impenetrable to others, an insatiable hunger for something, etc -- are often the “bad guys” of the story. Because, you know, gods forbid we be anything else. 20. What are your thoughts on “forgiving” murderers, rapists, attackers, etc? Do you think it’s even possible to forgive these people? >> I mean, the only person who is in the position to forgive or not forgive is the person who was wronged. It’s not up to me to forgive a murderer unless the person he murdered was a loved one of mine; it’s not up to me to forgive a rapist unless I was the raped, etc. If I was the victim of one of these crimes, then I guess I’d find out whether it was possible to forgive the attacker or not. 21. What was the last series you finished watching? Do you have any plans to begin another? >> Damn, what was the last series I finished watching. I’ve been in the middle of several shows for a long time. 22. What is one way in which you are different from a year ago? What is one way in which you are still the same? >> I’m not sure. Not enough time has passed for my hindsight to be able to knit a narrative out of it. 23. When was the last time you had to walk somewhere in the rain? How about the snow? >> It was raining when I took a walk this morning. Not heavily, though. It was actually kind of nice. 24. Are there any types of survey questions you dread or don’t like answering for whatever reason? What kinds of questions do you like best? >> Yeah, there are plenty of questions that I sigh when I encounter them, either because I’m tired of giving the same answer all the time or because I never have an answer for it in the first place. Or because it’s yet another “what is your favourite [x]” question. But I accept that as part of taking surveys. It’s never going to change, lol. Generally I just like questions that I don’t recall having answered fifteen times in the past week, it doesn’t even matter what the question is about. 25. If you could learn about anything without the stress of grades or cost, what kind of classes would you take? >> I mean, I can learn about anything without the stress of grades or cost. The Internet is a wonderful place and so is the library. 26. What was the last item of clothing you purchased? Do you wear it often? >> Two pairs of sweatpants from Old Navy. I will be wearing them often when the weather gets cooler. 27. Has anything made you feel nostalgic lately? >> Yeah, probably. 28. What was the last chore you completed? >> Uh... I don’t remember, but at some point I’m going to have to empty the dishwasher and vacuum. 29. Name a song you’ve listened to today? >> Skeksis by Strapping Young Lad. 30. Is there anything you’ve promised yourself you’ll never do again? >> Probably.

#surveys #survey #random survey

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cooltrainererika · 4 years

Text

Alt-talia x Evillious Chronicles: The Key to Zorn (Part 1 v. 1)

Couldn’t come up with a better title.

This is for Alternate Universe/AU, or Angst, it can qualify for both.

Okay… so… holy hell.

This is the longest fic I’ve ever written. And it isn’t even finished.

I thought “Superbia” was long. But… I outdid myself. Over FORTY FREAKIN’ PAGES IN GOOGLE DOCS. And again, this is not finished, I’m splitting it so I at least have the hope of releasing something! With two routes! This is a novel, folks!

I’m probably going to repost this for the Christmas event since I want as much people to see them as possible. Because there are some Christmas elements here. So yeah, you can take this as an early Christmas fic too.

This will be a movie, folks. Grab a seat and some popcorn.

Also, look, it’s goddamn Ludwig torment again! For the fourth time in the span of a month! And this might just be the most elaborate way I’ve tormented the poor guy yet. But I didn’t really have many options.

So I wanted to enter Mirror Week, but in the main canons write in, Alt-talia and Hetalia Emblem, I haven’t come up with any use for 2Ps, and in the former case I can’t see how I could use them.

However, there was one Alt-talia spin-off AU I had been thinking they would exist on; I didn’t know whether I wanted to release media to it so early, and due to a reason I will explain in a moment, I was reluctant to release media about it in general. But… I went with it.

This is my Evillious Chronicles AU. Yes, an AU of an AU. What about that.

Basically, the Evillious Chronicles is what started as a series of Vocaloid songs telling a much larger story; it has since ballooned into a vast, tangled network of light novels and other such media. It’s as confusing as it sounds. Some of you may have heard of the songs “Daughter of Evil” and “Servant of Evil”; those were the first songs to be released in that series. Those two songs weren’t self-contained, oh no.

The thing is, for this AU I wanted to write just based on the seven sin songs (and Servant of Evil), with accompanying Hetaloid covers, and leave the rest of the story up to the audience. I’m still planning on that. However, I still wanted to enter the event, so here I am presenting a version of events for one of the arcs; however, it is merely the route that hews closest to Evillious canon from what I can gather of it. So yeah, NONE OF THIS IS HARD CANON. Especially since I wasn’t sure on the roles of some characters here.

Also, if I somehow ever get to publishing my main Evillious x Hetalia fics sometime in the future; first of all, hi. But more importantly, please, I implore you, do not read this before reading The Muzzle of Ludwig. Especially the second half. I tried to avoid spoilers, but someone becomes extremely obvious with contextual clues.

Also… it’s not like I wanted to write Ludwig torment again. But he was basically my only option, since he was the only one whose sin most likely overlaps with… well, it’ll become clear as this goes on. Ludwig’s story here is based on Nemesis Sudou’s story. Though since Nemesis and Ludwig are vastly different characters, there may be some plot holes, unfortunately.

And THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT: for those who have read none of my other works yet, Alt-talia has often vastly, vastly different characterizations. I based most of these characterizations off of their late 19th century to very early 20th century personalities in Alt-talia. Special OOC warning for the following characters: Austria, Hungary, and Prussia. Minor OOC warning for Germany. I used @askimperialludwig ‘s version of the character as a reference, along with my personal perception and research. may add more later.

Also, credit to my friend @tomboyjessie13 , my Evillious consultant, for helping me through this!

I can’t let this be too long, since the fic is long already. Let’s go!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

(Also... people who read my fics, please reblog them. I work hard on them, and want many to see them!)

And since I forgot to add this above the cut; this canon is also one of the few times Nyotalia characters canonically exist as their own entity in my works, if not the only one so far. It’s kind of necessary, since otherwise it’ll turn into a complete sausagefest. However, as I have no set personality for them in main Alt-talia canon, I basically write them the same way as I would their male counterparts, with maybe some minor changes. I do have some ideas for Nyotalia characters in “what if” stories for main Alt-talia canon, but since this would be an Alt-talia spinoff, most of my theoretical audience would be there for the Alt-talia characters who appear in most Alt-talia media. Not to mention male stereotypes for countries are usually more fun anyway. However, in this universe two counterparts of the same character can co-exist. I try to avoid that though.

Also, a character named “Arendt” is briefly mentioned; this is Brandenburg. He isn’t really that important though, and really I’ve barely fleshed him out, so that’s all you need to know.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Key To Zorn

In a certain continent, there was a forest.

A serene, peaceful forest, where inside one could almost feel mystical energy in the clear, unpolluted air.

Until, under the evening sky, a gunshot sounded.

Ludwig Beilschmidt, a boy of merely 8 with innocent, cornflower blue eyes, ran through the forest he knew so well, a basket of wild berries and herbs in his arms and a small sack over his back.

Soon, in his view, among the trees and wild cornflowers was the only place he had known all his life, the little wooden cottage he called home.

The boy immediately checked his old, somewhat rusted mailbox, a look of anxiousness on his face - one which immediately turned to disappointment upon finding there was nothing there.

He sighed.

“Nothing today either...”

He reached up somewhat, twisting the doorknob and opening the wooden door.

“I’m home!”

No one answered back.

As per usual.

He didn’t expect one anyway.

Ludwig went to the dining table, setting the basket and sack, as well as his small, old-model pistol, down on his side of the table. Inside the sack was a small rabbit; the poor little thing. He hoped it didn’t struggle for long after he had shot it.

He prepared dinner as he always did, the bubbling as the ingredients stewed the only sounds other than the cries of the wildlife outside.

And he ate in silence by the light of the lamp, staring at the empty, vacant other side of the table, the light of the sun dim and faint.

“Mutter, is it good?”

Nothing.

Ludwig sighed again, going back to shoving the stew into his mouth.

——-

Ludwig tucked himself into bed after a bath and a change of clothes, now in his old, almost too small pajamas, having finished the book in his hands an hour ago - while he had reread it and others several times already, it was a window into a world different from his, where friends supported each other and families told stories in front of the fire - but now that it was over, here he was, once again, stuck in loneliness, on his own, within the cold, dark walls of a small cabin.

Once again, it was quiet. All too quiet; except for the sounds of the forest.

Now as he had nothing to distract him, every rustling of the underbrush, every animal cry made him bristle. The forest was his comfort by day, almost a second mother, but by night, it was dark, feral.

He pulled his blankets up to his face, curling up, shaking like a leaf. He felt any moment, a beast could break through the walls and tear him to shreds.

He missed his mother so much, oh how he missed her. Her harsh but protective voice, her calloused hands squeezing his wrists. He missed his onkel Arendt, who told him stories of the battles he and Mutter had been through.

She’s dead. She’s dead, accept it.

No, no she wasn’t.

She couldn’t be. She had to be alive.

She was too strong to die.

She would come back. She always came back.

His mother wouldn’t want to see him like this anyway. He was being pathetic.

“Einz, zwei, drei...”

He took a deep breath. He was stronger than this.

Imagining his mother was standing by his bed, staring at him with disapproval at his fearful behavior, finally his shivering started to lessen ever so slightly.

He needed to make it so that when she came home with another medal shining on her chest, she could come home to a son she could be proud of, after all.

“Good night.”

He said to no one in particular, as he let the faint moonlight be his comfort, finally closing his eyes.

Lu li la la lu li la la la...

A soothing, calming melody played in his mind; Ludwig didn’t know where he knew it from, but as it surrounded him in soft, almost familiar gentleness, the shivering stopped, his muscles loosened, and he was finally lured into the welcome embrace of sleep.

Lu li la la lu li la la la…

Lu li la la lu li la la la...

———-

“FIRE!”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Birds flew away in massive numbers, disturbed by the sudden noise.

Ludwig blew the steam off his pistol, seeing that the bullets had all landed near-target. Almost there.

Not bothered by the recoil anymore, he lined up the shot again, swearing he would get it right this time.

Every two days he did this, before 10 sets of running, marching, and every parallel bar routine; this wasn’t how most children his age passed their time, willingly anyway, if the books he read were any indication, and surely he felt sorry for the animals who had to hear such things, as they were the closest things to friends he had. But it broke the silence.

And most of all, he could almost sense his mother beside him during these practice drills; he could feel her hands on his arms guiding him in his aim, and hear her voice shouting in tandem with him as he shouted “FIRE!”. In fact, sometimes he swore she actually was there, by his side.

He took a deep breath and aimed again.

“FIRE!”

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

When he came home, he once again saw a basket of supplies.

They always puzzled him. They came at such random, unpredictable intervals, filled with food, a few bottles of milk, several cartridges of bullets, and even occasionally a book, toy, bar of soap, or other extra, but by the time he found them no one was ever there.

He should be grateful. Though he wished someone would explain to him.

Oh well.

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

Days passed, then months.

Once again, on the night of his 9th birthday, Ludwig laid alone, the weak moonlight unable to brighten his gradually deepening pit of despair.

The silence was maddening. He craved for any touch, for any warmth of another person, for anything. But even that simple wish was too much to ask.

He bunched up the worn blanket, the cold, frigid winter air seeping into the cabin.

Every day, he wondered if he was slowly going mad.

Holding a cornflower and his mother’s black cross necklace to his chest, looked out into the moon, to the night sky peeking from a clearing in the trees.

A star shot through the night sky, and Ludwig was quick to make his wish.

I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.

She had always told him that believing in such things was foolish.

But what was the pain in hanging onto the little light he could find?

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

Now’s your time.

Alright. I’m going in. See you.

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

One cold, chilling day, towards the final days of the year he turned 9, Ludwig stepped outside to check his mailbox again.

Snow lightly dusted the ground, softly landing on his old, worn coat.

He had checked his homemade calendar; Sancbruma. Such a lovely holiday. But now, just yet another cold, freezing, lonely day. Oh well. He had known Pater Natalis wasn’t real for years to need confirmation.

But this day, after creaking the old thing open, he found something.

His heart almost stopped.

Immediately, he ripped the envelope often, his heart pounding in his ears, his breath quickening, and he immediately glued his focus to the words, written specially to be understandable to a child.

Ludwig Beilshmidt, we are sorry to inform you that…

Time seemed to stop. He swore his heart stopped.

Dread shot through his body like lightning.

He read on, clinging onto the little hope that still remained with him all those years as they escaped from him, flying away as he fell deeper.

…

Tears fell from his face.

She was gone.

She was really gone.

Finally, suppressed despair replaced dread, filling every corner of his mind and body, every nerve, every muscle.

But mixed with it, and eventually almost overpowering it in the concoction of emotion, was wrath.

Pure, unbridled wrath.

He tore the paper and screamed, his screams piercing the serene forest air.

Tears fell from his eyes like a burst dam as he cried into his hands, cursing whoever had killed her, her fate, the cruelty of the gods.

If only he could get his hands on whatever bastard killed her, he would strangle them, he would gouge out their eyes, he would shoot them in the leg and watch them bleed to death, how dare they take his mother away!

He had always been told the best came to those who were patient.

He was proven wrong that day.

All those years, waiting, hoping, hoping for nothing.

Nothing.

His mother was never going to come back. Ever.

Grief, anger, and sadness gripped his small frame as he shook, on the ground, his young brain besieged with intense emotions and reality, dreaded, painful reality.

Don’t cry. How pathetic. Is that how I raised you?

Ludwig forced himself to take deep breaths, desperately fighting his tears and holding back the flow of the concoction of emotions any further.

No, his mother wouldn’t want to see him like this. He couldn’t let her be honored like this.

“Einz, zwei, drei, einz, zwei, drei...”

He took a breath with every word, forcing his emotions back and attempting to lock them away, until finally once again he could think somewhat coherently.

It was here he noticed something wet poking his hand.

There was something in front of him.

A dog.

A medium-large dog with pointy, perky ears and snout; a magnificent, beautiful coal-black Fernirhund, its bright, intelligent eyes a rare violet.

He didn’t notice it before in his panic, but now the dominant emotion in his mind was confusion.

As he sniffled, the dog nudged him again with its nose, looking up at him with its soulful eyes.

“...A dog?”

The dog stared at him back.

Ludwig’s mind immediately jumped back to the beginning of the year.

I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.

“Are… are you from my Mutter?”

Silence.

Immediately, he embraced the dog, making it yelp, crying into its fur.

“It’s adorable! I love it Mutter! Thank you!”

It let him cry into its fur, as the boy’s short arms wrapped around it in the first living thing it had embraced, nay, touched, in years.

He was actually holding something living. Oh, it had been so long. Oh so long.

He had almost forgotten what it felt like to hold life in his arms, to feel its warmth, to feel its gentle rising and falling, to hear the subtle sounds of another’s breath in his ears.

For the first time in years, despite the unforgiving cold of the winter morning air, warmth reached Ludwig’s heart, happiness brewing with and overpowering now subdued despair and rage.

<Sure… Whatever makes you happy, kid.>

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

“Oy vey… I was too late again.

...This world is fucked.”

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

Ludwig put a saucer of stew in front of the dog, which surely enough it soon started lapping up.

“It’s good right? What should I call you… I’ll have to give you a name.”

He stared at the dog, deep in thought.

“Oh, I know… Schwarzchen!”

The dog looked at him.

“You like it? Then Schwarzchen it is!”

<...I didn’t say anything. ’Blackie’? You cannot be serious.>

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

That night was different from usual.

Ludwig nestled his head in Schwarzchen’s fur, holding onto him like a stuffed animal, running his fingers through his soft coat. It had seemed reluctant at first, clearly not used to such close contact but as Ludwig begged it to stay, as if it understood him, it decided to stay with him.

The dog’s breathing neutralized the deafening silence he had gotten so used to, its warmth protecting his small body from the frosty air.

It was like heaven.

Oh, he almost forgot something.

He took his mother’s necklace from his bedside table, putting it around the dog’s neck like a collar.

“There. Perfect. It suits you.”

He barked.

“Good night, Schwarzchen.”

That night, sleep came to Ludwig easier than usual, as he was surrounded by his new companion’s soft breathing and warm fur.

----------

“Hallo. Kid. Wake up.”

Ludwig awoke, his eyes fluttering open.

Once his eyes focused, he almost yelped in shock.

He was somewhere he didn’t recognize, some formless void; Schwarzchen was nowhere to be seen, nor were the walls of his cabin or even his forest, all that remained was his bed.

In front of him was a man clad in what seemed to be a long white lab coat and some type of mantle, or at least Ludwig assumed, his clothing style almost resembling that in illustrations in one of his novels, ostensibly chronicling ancient legends; but not just any man.

A man who looked almost exactly like how one would imagine Ludwig would look like when he was older, save for his unnatural purple, almost magenta eyes that shined with a calculating glint, a scar under his left.

“H… hallo?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you.”

“I… Who are you?”

The man smiled at him softly; despite his harsh features, it calmed some of Ludwig’s nerves, just a little.

“That isn’t important. But you’re lonely, right? And it’s causing you pain, yes?”

His voice was deep; much lower than Arendt’s, the only other reference he had for an adult man, surprising Ludwig a bit.

The boy nodded.

The man dug into one of his pockets, taking out a key.

“Here. I’ll be your friend; all you have to do is take the other end of this key, and you won’t feel any of that loneliness and pain any more…”

Tentatively, Ludwig took it.

The boy gasped as he suddenly felt something overwhelming and indescribable other than energy blitz between him and the strange man through the key; it was painless, in fact almost manic energy, bright lights flashing in his vision.

Ludwig woke up.

The boy laid there, his eyes wide, his mind mulling over what he had just seen.

“A dream… it was a dream… Who was that man?”

He turned, and there Schwarzchen was.

“Never mind… Good morning, Schwarzchen.”

Ludwig blinked.

“...Did you just…”

Ludwig’s eyes widened. He held his head; it seemed to be coming from within his head, like a thought, instead of from his ears.

“...Schwarzchen? Is that you?”

<Yes, this is the dog. And I have a name.>

Ludwig took a few seconds to process the information.

“...What? ...Mein Gott, I’ve really gone crazy…”

<No. This is real. I’m speaking to you through something called telepathy. Speaking to you through your mind. I could explain all the intricate details but it would probably short-circuit your child brain.>

“I know what it is. But it’s just like in the stories! Wow! I didn’t know they really happened!”

Ludwig sat up on the side of his bed.

“You keep insulting my naming sense. So what is your name?”

“Schwarzchen” looked him directly in the eyes.

<Well, well, it’s the same as yours, funnily enough. Ludwig.>

“We have the same name? What a coincidence.”

“Alright… Lutz it is. ...I liked ‘Schwarzchen’ though.”

<...Whatever, kid.>

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

Like that, Ludwig and Lutz became friends.

His 10th birthday had been the best birthday he had in years, even if it was just the two of them.

Over time, Lutz taught the boy how to use telepathy; and without him saying a word, he became a third hand to him.

...Sometimes. Other times, the dog merely yawned, telling him to “Do it on his own.”

Ludwig wondered if all dogs were like this. But even then, he didn’t mind. Even if Lutz was a cold, snarky jerk sometimes, it didn’t matter.

Every day, they ate together, went hunting together, bathed together, and at the end of the day slept together.

He could almost forget his loneliness, and the fact that his mother would never return.

Almost.

——————

As Ludwig braced himself on his bed, he once again counted his breaths.

The wrath he felt that day; it was coming back. From within, it seemed to spread to his entire body, to the point it was unbearable.

He would never forget that pain. He couldn’t. But mindless rage was for the foolish.

He wouldn’t forget. But he would remember, silently.

When he looked to Lutz, Lutz didn’t seem afraid at all. He merely stared at him with those violet eyes.

Ludwig embraced Lutz, not letting go.

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

Lutz stared at the young boy as he slept, his chest rising and falling.

It was easy.

A bit too easy.

What did he expect from a child though.

<Still, would have liked a bit more of a challenge.

Oh well. Sleep tight, kid.

...Though why do you have to use me as a pillow?>

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

Over the next year, Ludwig grew. Now on the cusp of puberty, he became stronger, he could run faster and further, and he could shoot with more and more accuracy.

On the morning of his 11th birthday, Lutz presented him with a query.

<Kid.>

“Huh? What is it, Lutz?”

Ludwig froze.

<Don’t cry on me.>

“I wasn’t going to”

<Yes, yes. In anyway, since you know you mother isn’t coming home, what’s the point staying in this place anymore?>

The boy pondered it.

<I’m a dog and even I think it’s pointless waiting for someone if they’re clearly dead. Well maybe I’m not the one to talk here.>

He was right.

“But… This is all I have ever known.”

<Don’t worry about it. You’re smart. I think. You should find out what to do soon enough.>

“...Jawohl. I don’t know what my purpose is being here forever too… It’s not like this place will disappear either. And it’s not what Mutter would want me to do. ...We’re leaving tonight.”

————-

Ludwig opened his drawer.

There it was; the notice he had torn up all those years ago.

Why did he still have it?

Just so he would never forget, probably.

Ludwig sealed the notice into a pouch before the rage became too much to bear, stuffing it into his bag, going to fetch his clothing. He had a sailor suit saved up for “special occasions”; he hoped he hadn’t outgrown it already.

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

Ludwig looked behind his back one last time to the small cabin, the cornflowers, the trees he had known for his entire 11 years of living.

It felt so odd to know he would be away from it.

He quickly ran back, Lutz grumbling behind him, and picked a few flowers, pressing them between the pages of a book.

“Jawohl. Coming, coming!”

-----------

When Ludwig entered the capital, the little truly important belongings he had on his and Lutz’s backs, he was in awe.

It bustled with energy, with people, rickety, clanking automobiles and trolleys spewing steam or smoke that made him cough if he went to close, radio commercials resounding through the air, as well as delicious smells the likes of which he hadn’t known in years, some never before, but mixed in with the inexplicable smell of whatever was coming out of the automobiles.

Ludwig wasn’t quite sure whether he liked it or disliked it, but most accurately he would describe it as a strange mix of the two; but more than anything, everything was so new.

He marveled at the sight of a trolley passing by, when he heard honking behind him.

“Get out of the way brat!”

Ludwig stepped back, hopping back to the sidewalk, and an automobile clunked on, its driver looking at him irritated.

But its movements fascinated him, how the machine seemed to move magically, how it seemed to have a life of its own.

“...Where should I even start?”

<Well? Do you have any relatives?>

“Not that I know of.”

Lutz pointed in the direction of some other children, in a way much like how a pointer or setter dog would.

“...Oh.”

Ludwig sighed. He may as well.

————-

“Shoo! Shoo!”

“No money? We aren’t a charity, sorry.”

“Outta the way!”

————-

Ludwig slept in an alley that night, huddled in his old blanket, snuggling against Lutz, who had gotten used to the close contact years ago.

He was so tired. He just remembered he hadn’t slept for an entire day, and it was finally catching up to him.

He had gotten some attention due to being cleaner-looking than the rest, though Lutz was far more charming in their eyes. But more often than not, the overwhelming message in the air was clear; he wasn’t welcome here.

“Lutz?”

Lutz looked up.

“Why didn’t you tell me I needed money for everything?”

<Didn’t you read about it?>

“I didn’t know it was this necessary.”

“...Lutz?”

<...What now?>

“There’s so many people here. But I still feel so alone.”

“Jawohl… Good night.”

————

Seeing no reason not to, Ludwig had decided to explore the city a bit more the next morning, after having helped himself and Lutz to a piece of bread and some beef jerky he had bought, plus the miscellaneous items he had been given the day before.

After a long while of walking, taking in the different sights, from the historical landmarks and building to new projects, some even in the midst of being built, neatly separated or together, working in at times harmonious and at times chaotic tandem. Every so often he saw stray animals run about. After some time he started to see schoolchildren, some about his age, run to school with their friends, adults dressed in suits on their way to work.

Until, Ludwig started to feel the air change.

It felt somewhat... sticky? The breeze seemed stronger. And inexplicably salty.

For he had reached the city harbor. Birds, they were called seagulls he believed, cawed above. Fishermen had far since left the dock, and in the distance, trade ships were being loaded to go who knows where. And they were floating on a vast, open field of water, water, nothing but water.

“Lutz... is this...”

He had heard his mother’s stories about the ocean; while she had never been a woman of the seas per se, she was in the army, not the navy after all, he had heard her describe growing up near it. It was odd thinking that she, too, had been a child once like him.

This ocean was to her like the forest was to him, quite possibly.

She had also spoken about a rumor; a rumor that a wish put into a bottle and cast into the sea would, eventually, be granted. She had dismissed it as childish of course. And she did say that she much preferred the land after growing up.

Though according to Onkel Arendt, she would at times, despite this, just go to her childhood home, staring out into the eternal ocean.

He wondered what she had thought as her red eyes stared out into the distant horizon, the salty breeze flowing through her silver-white hair.

It was strange, imagining his mother like that. The sea was so free, almost careless; the complete opposite of her. But maybe that was exactly what drew her to it.

Ludwig started running along the dock, letting Lutz chase him, the briny wind rushing past him and through his hair. People had started to come to swim, and the city was starting to fully come to life.

Even if life was hard, at least he had some way of entertaining himself when everything was so brand new.

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

One day, a duo of teenagers spotted Ludwig.

And being the thugs they were, Ludwig suddenly found himself in confrontation with two kids much larger, older, and stronger than he; even if Ludwig was tougher than most 11-year-olds, these two seemed to be about 14 at least, if not, and probably, 15.

“Hey street rat, where’s your mutti?!”

Ludwig tried not to pay them any heed, even if he bristled at the rude words.

“...What business do you have with me?”

The shorter one grabbed him by the collar.

“I asked you a question, shorty!”

After the initial shock and fear, Ludwig felt a flash of anger. His fists clenched as he tried to struggle his way out. And worst of all was that he couldn’t do anything.

<Kid. Listen.>

“What?!”

“Of course! ...Intimidate, Lutz!”

————-

Ludwig stood there, dumbfounded at what he had just witnessed, as the teenagers ran away, screaming “DEMON DOG! DEMON DOG!”.

And there Lutz was, looking terribly bored, as if nothing had happened.

“How… how…”

<I’m a Very Amazing Dog, you could say.>

————

A week passed; Ludwig counted, as he always valued timekeeping, no matter what. The other street children left him alone, eyeing him strangely. Occasionally, he heard extortionists threatening some unfortunate soul.

That was when, however, Lutz told him something vital.

<Hey. Have you ever considered asking the police if you have any relatives?>

Ludwig looked at the dog, puzzled.

“What?”

Lutz pointed at a building.

<There. It says “POLIZEI”. Can’t you read?>

“...Why? Won’t they throw me in jail or something?”

Lutz looked up to see Ludwig’s dumbfounded face staring back at him.

“...Why didn’t you tell me that, you mutt?!”

<Thought it would be interesting to observe you. Also don’t be too loud. Everyone will think you’re a crazy person.

Ludwig took a look around, and indeed there were some passerbys staring at him.

Ludwig loudly sighed, his palm on his face.

“...Fine. Thanks anyway.”

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

“Your name?”

“Ludwig Beilshmidt.”

The officers looked at him for a few seconds.

“...As in Julia Beilshmidt? General Julia Beilshmidt?”

“Jawohl.”

They were in shock.

“...Excuse me? Is something wrong?”

“Erm… We apologize. Ja.”

“Do I have any relatives? I need some place to stay.”

“...Ja. We will search immediately. Please wait here. But it may take a while.”

————-

“Hallo? Is this the police? Why must you be calling?”

“Well, you see, sir… It appears that a relative of yours has suddenly shown up out of nowhere. ...He claims to be Beilshmidt’s son.”

“...Mein Gott. Julchen did say she had a son… I knew she wasn’t the type who should be able to take care of a child. I will be there as soon as I can.”

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

“I know, Lutz. Shut up.”

Lutz yawned.

“He should be here soon-”

It was then that the door to the police station opened with just enough force to be noticeable without slamming.

Standing there was a dark brown-haired gentleman with a large, curly cowlick, probably in his thirties, most likely affluent from his clothing.

“Excuse me, I hear there was someone waiting for me here?”

Ludwig stood up, and their eyes met.

“Hallo. ...You are Ludwig?”

He adjusted his glasses, then his tie.

“Ja?”

He looked him over.

“Ah, I can see some of the resemblance. Though you’re actually somewhat adorable, unlike her.”

“...Is that an insult against her?”

Realizing his mistake, the man cleared his throat.

“Ah, sorry.”

He outstretched his hand.

“I am Herr Roderich Edelmann. Your mother’s cousin. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard about you, but it is nice being able to see you with my own two eyes.”

Ludwig took the hand, shaking it.

“Ludwig Beilshmidt. Nice to meet you, Sir.”

Then, suddenly, Roderich’s formal facade dropped and he pulled the boy into a hug.

“You’re so precious! You may call me Onkel Roderich! Don’t worry, we will take great care of you!”

Lutz looked on in amusement as Ludwig’s cries of shock became muffled in the man’s chest.

Ludwig was flabbergasted. It had been so long since he had been hugged. He only could relive them in his memories, and they weren’t frequent, but here he was, feeling it yet again, surrounded by warmth; he didn’t know how to process it.

But if there was one emotion he was certain about as the man smoothed his hair and cooed over him, it was that he felt loved.

————-

Ludwig held on tightly as the automobile rocked around them. Roderich didn’t seem to mind it whatsoever, but Ludwig had only heard of an automobile once, and had seen, much less ridden, none. Roderich was happy to make him comfortable next to him though, warning him whenever a bump or “pothole” was coming up.

“I forgot to ask… what is that dog doing with you? A purebred Fenrir no less?”

Lutz was lazily sprawled out in the back seat behind them, his ears pricking somewhat at the mention of him.

“Oh, that’s Lutz.”

“...Lutz? As in…”

“Jawohl.”

Roderich looked puzzled.

“Erm… Mutter named him.”

Roderich huffed.

“Ah, Julchen, of course…”

“He was my last Sancbruma present from her before she died.”

Roderich quieted for a few seconds.

“Oh… I see. We will accommodate him too. Do not worry. ...Also, no need to ‘jawohl’ around me.”

“Jawo… ja.”

—————

Onkel Roderich was a renowned musician; he was a master of many instruments and even knew how to compose, but his main forte was the piano. He was sought after for his talents across the land.

And he had the house to show it as well.

“Welcome to your new home, Ludwig.”

Ludwig took it all in; the house was already larger than average compared to others in town, and as a boy who had grown up in a small log cabin all his life, it seemed especially enormous.

A woman with long, light brown hair came up to them, looking from Roderich to Ludwig.

“Ah, Erzsébet! This is my nephew, Ludwig. He will be staying with us from now on.”

Roderich bent his knees so he was at Ludwig’s level.

“Ludwig, this is Erzsébet, my wife.”

“H… hallo. Nice to meet you, Tante Erzsébet.”

Ludwig outstretched his hand.

The woman merely eyed him for a few seconds.

“Hallo. I guess.”

She said, gruffly, with a distinctly foreign accent.

Roderich sighed.

“Erzsébet, why do you have to be like this?”

“Why do we have to take in this ratty-looking kid?”

Ludwig scowled.

“Hey!”

Roderich held Ludwig closer, glaring at her.

“Erzsébet! He’s a child! Have you no heart?!”

“Fine, fine.”

She shook his hand, roughly.

“But the dog is cute though. And wow, a Fenrir?! Hallo, come here!”

Lutz merely yawned.

Ludwig couldn’t help but snicker as an unamused frown crept across Erzsébet’s face.

“...Whatever. Make yourself at home I guess.”

She walked off.

“Prepare the bath and extra room for the boy! Come on now!”

Roderich commanded, and soon after servants bowed and quickly ran upstairs in single file.

“Don’t mind my wife. She wasn’t exactly enthusiastic to hear from you. But she will warm up to you eventually. Though… you are in need of new clothes, aren’t you?”

He gave the boy a once-over, making Ludwig look down to his old, beaten-up and washed out child-sized military uniform.

“Sadly, we do not have any clothes your size as of now. I will have a servant hire the tailor immediately. Meanwhile I will order them to wash what you have now.”

<He’s awfully happy to see you, isn’t he?>

“Ja… he seems like a nice person.”

————

That might, Ludwig had the best dinner he had ever had.

He could only marvel at the dishes in front of him; even those he had heard of before looked so refined. And there was so much of it! The variety of bread available was amazing.

But he couldn’t let himself forget his discipline. Even if it took all his willpower not to start gorging himself on everything like he had been possessed by some demon of gluttony.

“Onkel, what is this?”

“A chocolate torte, you see. A type of cake.”

Ludwig remembered actually having a cake a grand total of once. He still remembered its sweetness so well and it was probably the best thing he ever had eaten. And then there were two other things he had only read about before.

...And Lutz seemed unusually interested in it.

He couldn’t blame him though, it’s aroma was mesmerizing to Ludwig’s senses.

“Chocolate? Is that what the brown is?”

“You have never had chocolate before?! Mein Gott, Julchen, What have you done?”

Ludwig was quick to take a bite, and he froze.

The mellow, deep sweetness melted on his tongue, spreading throughout his mouth in such an indescribably perfect way, a tinge of bitterness within that instead of detracting from the experience, somehow harmonized with the sweetness in such a heavenly way.

“...Ludwig?”

“...It’s amazing.”

Roderich seemed somewhat amused by how floored the boy was.

“Even your mother was quite a fan.”

<Hey, hey. Kid.>

Ludwig was surprised by the unusual agitation in Lutz’s thoughts. He didn’t think he had ever heard anything like it before.

“Lutz? What is-“

Ludwig almost panicked, giving a piece to the impatient dog.

“Ludwig!”

“I… erm… It was unfair to have it to myself!”

“...Wasn’t chocolate poisonous to dogs?”

Erzsébet questioned.

“Wait wha-“

<Don’t worry. ... Ahh, bliss...>

Ludwig smiled nervously.

“He’ll be fine.”

The couple just stared, confused.

“Erm…”

“Trust me! I know him well. ...Can I have more? Please?”

“Absolutely.”

His face absolutely lit up at that, and in the corner of his vision Ludwig saw quite possibly the most genuine expression of joy he had seen from Lutz in all the time he knew him.

“Why’s it that everyone in your family loves chocolate so much?”

Erzsébet asked as her husband took another piece.

“Why don’t you is the better question.”

“...Actually, yup, you two definitely are related. Leave some for me though!”

————

Roderich doted on the boy; he made sure he had the nicest clothes and the nicest food that he could afford.

He had made sure the room was in absolute best condition, that his pillows were always fluffed and bed always made, even if Ludwig insisted he wanted to do it on his own.

He taught him everything about the basics of civilization, how to read more complex sentences, how to play the piano and the violin, even how to dance. He took him with him to work, across the city and sometimes even country to places he had at best read about and to meet so many new people.

His next Sanctbruma and 12th birthday were the most extravagant he had ever had.

Yet…

Yet something was missing.

Despite the man’s kindness, he felt something wasn’t right. Ludwig couldn’t put a finger on what, and he felt awful about it to be sure; he did so much for him, what more could a boy ask for?

But yet…

Sure, Erzsébet never completely warmed up to him; even if she wasn’t as cold to him, according to Lutz she was merely tolerating him. And the same was true for many of the servants.

But that didn’t change the fact that Roderich himself was nothing but loving towards him. Even if he had curfews and other such rules, he never had trouble with rules. His mother raised him to obey rules. And while he was often busy, he still tried his best to spend time with him.

Finally, he actually had someone who resembled a parent after all those years. He should have been thankful.

But he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

Someone had to be doing something wrong.

At times, he still lay awake at night, those lonely days and nights and that fateful Sanctbruma playing back in his mind; as well as the accompanying emotions of pure hatred and wrath.

Once, Roderich has entered the room at an inopportune time to Ludwig curled up in his bed, seething, growling at him to leave him alone.

While he didn’t say anything about it at dinner, it was obvious he was disturbed by it.

“...Lutz. Why can’t I be happy? I still feel alone, but I don’t even know why.”

“At least I have you.”

<Whatever.>

———

“Ludwig.”

“Ja, Onkel Roderich?”

The man sighed.

“It has been over a year since you started living with us. What is it with your standoffish behavior? Is something wrong? I will listen to it.”

“...I just can’t, Onkel.”

“Excuse me?”

“I… Something just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know why.”

The man looked so disappointed.

“I try my best to make you happy, Ludwig. I really do. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to satisfy your needs.”

“Nein. It isn’t that.”

Roderich shook his head.

“As I was saying… the chords for this piece are…”

—————

Ludwig continued to do his practice drills whenever possible, even if they had taken a different shape; makeshift targets became proper shooting galleries, improvised exercises became possible using an open space between buildings and proper equipment. And as he grew more and more by the day, his physical abilities took leaps and bounds above what he had been capable of before. He just wished he could go more than weekly. At first, Roderich objected, but it didn’t take long for him to cave in.

After all, he had to keep himself in shape, especially as he now had access to all the candy and chocolate that could be plausibly afforded.

After a while, Roderich started to continuously try to ask him to consider other options in this weekly time slot. He was never too forceful, however. And after a while, as Ludwig expressed his clear annoyance, it finally ceased just as it had begun.

There was another episode that irked Ludwig.

One night, as he went to get a glass of water, he had seen Roderich, seemingly sneaking away from his room.

“...Onkel?”

The man bristled as soon as he turned on the lights.

“Erm… Ludwig, I didn’t expect you to be awake..

Then, Ludwig saw it.

In his hands was his mother’s necklace.

“...What are you doing with Mutter’s necklace?”

He immediately stuffed it inside his pocket and turned around, a fake smile on his face.

“What necklace, my dear Ludwig?”

“I know you’re hiding it.”

The man sighed, taking it back out again.

“I… I wanted to put it in a place it will be safer in.”

Ludwig tried not to grill him further, even as he felt something fueled by doubt start to boil within him.

“I’m sure it will be safe with me. It’s been so for all the years I’ve had it. Can I have it back now?”

“...Ja.”

Ludwig swiftly took it back, going down to get his glass. He really needed one.

“You could tell a servant to get it for you?”

“No. I prefer to do it on my own.”

When Ludwig had returned to his room, he had quite the things to say to Lutz.

“Lutz. Why did you let him take it?”

“It’s from Mutter. You should know. ...Lutz. If anything, protect this with your life.”

“I’m serious. It’ll be the last thing I ask of you.”

<Alright, alright. Whatever.>

“You aren’t sincere, are you?”

——————

One day, as Ludwig overheard some servants speaking to each other in hushed voices, glancing at him every so often.

He was able to catch two things; “Miss Erzsébet” and “barren”.

He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. But for whatever reason he didn’t like the sound of it.

That night, after some shouting, once again Roderich stormed out of the master bedroom, telling Erzsébet to “Get a hold of yourself already, you indecipherable woman!”, to his own separate room, as Erzsébet shouted some words back that sounded really angry and probably inappropriate.

Lutz thought, as Ludwig tried to sleep. Lutz, meanwhile, had no trouble.

————

13-year-old Ludwig stood outside of the bar, alongside Lutz, as always, and other members of his gang.

It was in a seedy, rough part of town. And it was where their rival gang frequented most often.

It wasn’t the most well-to-do of bars, to say the least; as soon as they entered, the air smelt pungently of alcohol, and ambiently of various nasties.

<Ergh. Try coming here as a dog.>

They immediately saw their target; the offending gang’s leader.

Their leader went up to confront her rival, fists clearly ready to fly.

“Hey! We know ya killed him!”

“Who?”

The rival boss said, with a cheeky grin.

“Ya know who!”

The two continued to escalate their argument, until they became close to blows.

“Enough yammerin’! Get ‘em, boys n’ girls!”

Suddenly, they were grabbed by the rival gang bangers, including Ludwig, who held back a yelp.

“We didn’t kill one of yer ratpack, asshole! Now get out or we’re gonna force ya out!”

“...You better tell us.”

Ludwig said, tersely, utilizing his now lowering voice and copying his mother’s tone.

The rival boss laughed.

“Or what, kid? What are ya gonna do, huh? Man your recruiting standards have gone down!”

His boss smirked.

“Ya better listen to the kid.”

“Or what?”

They laughed uproariously.

“Lutz. Restrain.”

Their laughing instantly stopped, their faces going sheet white, all the other bar patrons, the bartender, and staff turning to gawk.

For they bore witness to the gang boss being pinned down, on the floor, between the claws of a giant, terrifying hellhound, its eyes glowing, its fangs bared, its breath in the unfortunate gangster’s terrified face.

Ludwig walked up to the rival boss with measured steps, the gangsters holding him having let go out of sheer terror, the thumping of his feet the only sounds other than his companion’s breathing and the squeaks and sputtering from bystanders and rival gangsters, and pulled out his old pistol, aiming it at the thug’s head, glaring daggers so sharp that they could gouge eyes out.

Show your enemy no mercy.

Once again, he thought he felt his mother voice in his ear.

“Tell us the truth.”

The rival boss sputtered, shaking like a leaf, looking awfully smaller than the much younger boy.

“We… we… d-d-di…”

Ludwig cocked his pistol.

“Speak in a real language!”

The rival boss flinched, and the rest of the rival gang huddled, terrified.

“W-we didn’t do anything! I-I swear! I swear!”

Ludwig lowered his pistol slightly.

“...Really?”

“J-ja! I swear! I swear by both the Heavenly and Hellish Yards! P-p-please let me go, Sir!”

“...Alright. Lutz, release.”

The dog shrank back down to size, returning to his original, fluffy, cute self.

His boss grumbled.

“Whoop. That was pointless. Lud, let’s get outta this dump.”

They turned to leave, the other people in the bar still staring at them.

“W-Wait.”

Ludwig and his boss turned back to the humiliated rival boss.

“We might’ve not killed ‘im. But I-I have a good idea who might’ve.”

———-

“So, Lud. Good job today. We’ve got ourselves a lead.”

“Jawohl.”

Their boss patted Ludwig on the head and gave the group a once-over.

“Ok. You’re all dismissed.”

Ludwig was quick to leave, the others staring after him.

“What’s it with him? I swear, it’s like he doesn’t wanna be associated with us.”

“He said something about a curfew.”

“Really? Kid still follows curfews? What is he, 10?”

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

When Ludwig came back, Roderich was waiting for him.

“Ludwig.”

“Onkel Roderich?”

Roderich’s expression was serious and stern.

“...What have you been doing?”

“What do you mean, Onkel Roderich?”

Roderich held Ludwig’s shoulders.

“Let me state this plainly.”

He took a deep breath.

“You’re involved in gang activity, aren’t you?”

Ludwig was in shock.

“How…”

Roderich shook his head, his hand on his forehead.

“Ludwig. I am sure even Julchen taught you to obey rules.”

“I… I don’t want to depend on you for everything. I feel like a leech.”

Roderich was shocked.

“You’re only 13, Ludwig! It is alright! It isn’t worth putting yourself at risk like this!”

“I don’t know how to do anything else.”

Roderich shook his head.

“Don’t say that. You could deliver newspapers, or use those piano skills I taught you-“

“And they’re my friends.”

“Friends?! I care for you, why do you need them?! Do you even know any of their names?!”

“...”

“You’re going to get into trouble eventually, young man.”

“I… I know!”

Roderich flinched.

Ludwig looked down and stormed back into the house, Lutz running behind him, into his room, throwing himself onto his bed.

“Hmph, teenagers...”

Erzsébet mumbled.

—————-

“Ludwig?”

Roderich opened the door to Ludwig’s room that night, peeking in.

Ludwig couldn’t bare to look him in the eye.

“I’m sorry.”

Roderich sighed.

“Is it because I’m not Julchen?”

The boy felt a pang of guilt.

“I’m sorry! I don’t hate you, I’m thankful for what you’ve done, and-”

“I see. Just try to forget about her, alright?”

Ludwig froze. He felt like someone had stabbed his heart.

“But…”

“I do so much for you. I give you everything. What was it that she had that I don’t? I’ve been a far better parent than that stone-hearted, cruel, cold-”

“DON’T SAY THAT ABOUT MY MUTTER!”

His voice cracked terribly, but he didn’t care.

Roderich stumbled back, his face pale, horrified.

Silence.

“Ludwig… I’m sorry.”

Ludwig buried his face into his pillows.

“...I’ll tell the servants to bring you dinner. I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Leave me alone!”

“...I’m happy with any path you want to take. Just please stay safe.”

Roderich sighed and closed the door.

From that day on, Roderich started informing Ludwig of where police may find him, and locations of stations across the city. Anything for his safety, he had said.

But from that day on Ludwig knew; he knew that his suspicions were true, that all this time he was trying to make him forget about his mother. He couldn’t let that happen. It was only confirmation when he heard him brutally disparage her one night in a drunken stupor during one of his binge-drinking sessions.

Once again, Ludwig could trust no one.

And once again, wrath simmered within him.

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

Their boss summoned Ludwig and the rest of the gang to a gathering; to sort out their clues, they had said.

Ludwig was appreciated for his abilities; but outside of the action, he sat somewhat removed from the rest. He couldn’t connect with them much either.

His mother had despised lawbreakers; “scum”, “rats”, she would call them. If she knew what he was doing now, she would have caned his palms until they were raw and bleeding. She would have told him he was better than this. He never would have imagined he could stoop this low too. After all, he was his mother’s only son. He should have been destined for greatness.

Quite honestly, he didn’t fully understand what he was doing here either. How did he even get here? Was it just a business affair? Were they really his friends?

Maybe it was because this was the closest thing to military service he could find. Even if it were on the other side of the law.

A girl a year or so older than him, the second youngest in the gang, came up to him attempting to speak to him. Ludwig hesitated, but in the end continued to be fascinated with the clues they had and Lutz.

“Hey give up on Herr Stick-In-The-Mud already! Bet he’s never even kissed a girl!”

A gangster said, using the nickname they often used when ribbing him.

“What’s with him? He to good for us?” One of them muttered when Ludwig refused a drink.

“Ja. Imagine being one of us and caring about drinking ages. Never can understand Herr Stick-In-The-Mud.”

“Ja. Where was he raised, His Majesty’s Elite Imperial Barracks?”

“Hey, hey, did you hear that Boss might have the hots for him too?”

“Why don’t you fuckwits shut the fuck up?” Their boss barked at the last one. “The kid’s basically an infant!”

<You’re the most rule-bound gangster I’ve ever seen.>

“Why do they treat it as a bad thing?”

<You’re the one who joined a street gang, genius. They’ve got different rules.>

Ludwig looked at the bottle of cheap moonshine he had been offered again, sighed, and took a gulp.

He immediately gagged.

The last time he’d had booze was when Roderich had allowed him to try beer, and even then he had basically diluted half of it with water and it definitely didn’t taste like... whatever this bottle of horse urine was.

“Ack! This is awful! ...I did it, are you happy now?”

“That’s the spirit!”

“Doesn’t count! He gagged!”

Ludwig took a deep breath.

“Let’s get back on topic. We are discussing the murder of a fellow comrade. This is no time for inane chatter.”

Finally, the air became solemn.

“Ja, reasonable, I guess…”

“Now, onto the information Scout 2 gathered...”

—————-

Ludwig, more than anything, considered himself a logical person.

He and his mother both despised vagueness. It seemed pointless, really, all the dancing around the true meaning of your words in the name of “politeness”. While apparently many in this part of the continent were considered similarly blunt and practical, it seemed even then he was exceptional.

So his own emotional turmoil, how he could never seem to explain himself, frustrated him more than anyone else. It angered him.

But one thing he knew for sure was that he looked forward to stopping by the library on the way home. Thank goodness Roderich had taught him to read to a level more appropriate for his age; it was difficult at first, but he was also fortunately a fast learner.

He always had taken a fascination with the sciences. They were at first glance unpredictable, but once broken down and observed, logical. They made sense, they were rational. Recently, he started finding them more investing than fiction, in fact. And his new reading skills finally made the higher levels of it beyond simplistic drawings attempting to explain the laws of physics and magic accessible.

Which was why today he sat outside the library in his usual spot, looking through a medical encyclopedia, munching on one of many bars of dark chocolate and a small loaf of bread.

Lutz licked up pieces of chocolate Ludwig had given him, peeking from under him.

“HERS?”

Ludwig looked to Lutz in shock.

“How…”

“Though… Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome? Who names this stuff?”

<Hey. They probably had their reasons.>

“Why do you care? Did you come up with it?”

<Maybe. Plus, that’s rich coming from the kid who literally named me “Blackie”.>

Ludwig sighed.

“I... Fine. And wait... are you reading with me?”

<Yeah, I can read. I never told you?>

Ludwig continue to stare at him.

“I... I just didn’t think you would...”

"Maybe you could try reading a novel, Lutz?”

<Don’t care. Why should I care about what you flesh-apes think, much less fake ones? No one in the world knows what I’m thinking anyway.>

Ludwig closed the encyclopedia.

“You mean you feel that no one understands you, right?”

Lutz looked up, his ears erect.

His words struck him like a spark of lightning.

“That makes two of us”

An awkward few moments passed. For once in his life, Lutz had nothing to retort back.

Why was he so shocked?

Ludwig blinked, confused.

“Lutz? What’s wrong?”

<...Nothing.>

Lutz didn’t know what he had just felt.

“That makes two of us”

It should have meant nothing, coming from this brat.

But yet...

Whatever. It probably still meant nothing.

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

“We’ve got our guy! Rich bastard’s not gonna know what hit ‘im.”

Their boss said, confidently, gesturing to an assassin she had bought into their abandoned factory hideout.

The assassin looked across the crowd of gangsters.

“So. Which one of you brats wants to come?”

“Actually, we’ve got a good clue already for who’s gonna be a good fit for this mission.”

Ludwig waited, anxiously. He would gladly take the job of avenging his fallen comrade, of course.

“Ludwig!”

Ludwig stood to attention.

“...You’ll be providing nice clothes for us to blend in!”

Ludwig was speechless.

“How… Why?”

But when all had left, he went up to his boss. He needed answers.

“Why am I excluded?”

She looked at him as if he was stupid.

“I don’t think ‘Giant Enemy Dog’ is a viable weapon to use on a cruise ship.”

“But… I can shoot well too! You said I was a great marksman!”

“You’re good. Gotta say that. Still, don’t know about your skills in stealth yet. Can’t risk it. Now, see ya.”

Then, she abruptly cut him off and left.

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

Three days later, Ludwig and the rest of the gang not chosen for the plot awaited at the dock.

Soon, they spotted the assassination party, coming towards them.

One person was clearly missing.

“Hey! Boss! ...Boss? And where’s...”

Her face was dire.

“Shot dead. ...He spotted us.”

“He saw all our faces. All of you are fucked. We’re all fucked.”

More silence.

“...WHAT?!”

Silence immediately gave way to panic.

Ludwig stood, frozen.

“How… Why…”

He clutched his head, overwhelmed.

“But it can’t…”

Emotions swirled inside the boy, overpowering all of his senses, all of his thoughts.

What was going to happen to him? His friends?

“No, no, no, nonononononono…”

Suddenly, he bolted.

Along the harbor, he ran.

Then, in a burst of emotion and without much thought, as if on instinct, he acted immediately as Lutz took a running leap into the sea.

“SIC ‘EM, LUTZ!”

He didn’t even bother with the telepathy.

Everyone could only look on in shock and horror as Lutz became an utter behemoth of a beast, seemingly not completely solid and with a godlike glow, his tail alone twice the size of the ship; to those who were watching from afar, it would have looked as if a demon dog had risen out of the sea itself.

The ship was no match for the beast. Before anyone could fully comprehend what was going on, the ship had been sunk, every single person on it with it.

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

Ludwig walked back to the gang, who all stood staring at him, utterly horrified.

Finally, someone broke the silence.

“...Holy shit.”

Another turned to him, their eyes wide.

“...Lud? Did you just…”.

The boy’s mind was blank. What could he even say?

He had killed all of them. Every single one of them.

But in the end...

“Mission accomplished…?”

“Am I trippin’?”

“Did we just witness a massacre?”

“...What the fuck?”

Ludwig took a deep breath.

“But we accomplished our mission. ...I did what I had to do.”

“Ja, but… Holy shit.”

“In anyway…”

Their boss cleared her throat.

“Let’s… Let’s go with this loot before the cops find out.”

The rest could only muster a “Ja” in unison.

Lutz trotted up to Ludwig, as unbothered as always.

“Lutz…”

In the dog’s jaws was a doll; an eerily faceless, unusual, porcelain-ish doll of indeterminable gender.

<Here. I brought a present.>

“What is…”

“It’s… it’s probably from a dead child, Lutz!”

<Don’t be ungrateful. Oh, and your buddies are waiting. You should go.>

“...Ja. I did what I had to do. We killed him. That’s all that should matter…”

————-

The news of the shipwreck was all over the radio. They had listened to it in their hideout, huddled around the device.

“The perpetrator is currently unknown. However, many claim to have heard the voice of a boy or young man scream for the dog to attack…”

————-

When Ludwig came home, Roderich was standing in front of the door, in shock.

“Ludwig…”

“Onkel?”

“...It was you wasn’t it?”

Ludwig looked down to his feet.

“Lutz, specifically…”

<Hey.>

Roderich pulled him into a protective embrace.

“You could have put yourself in so much danger! What if the police find out about you?! Don’t you dare do that again.”

"...”

Roderich pulled him in.

“Now, come in before someone recognizes you.”

—————

Roderich rarely ever let him join the rest of the gang since that day; it was too dangerous, he had said.

He went out in mostly in a dark hood for a disguise, at times without Lutz, for over the radio, one expert had identified the beast as “a black Fenrir transformed with powerful magic.”

Later that year, a month before Sancbruma and two months before his 14th birthday, he had heard something unusual.

<Ludwig… Ludwig…>

“Huh?”

Telepathy. But Lutz wasn’t with him; it came from the doll in his bag.

Ever since that fateful day, Lutz had told him to carry it for some vague reason he couldn’t understand; his alleged simple explanation was “It’s amusing to see you carry around a girly doll like that.”

<Ludwig...>

He took the bag off his back and looked in.

“What?! How do you…”

He slung it back over his shoulder.

“Lutz!”

He had to get Lutz. Now.

But by the time he had gotten home, it was too late.

“No, Sir, he is not here. You will not find him here…”

“There he is!”

Two figures stood with Roderich; two figures he didn’t recognize.

A tanned, sturdy-looking man in a black suit, probably from the south of the continent, turned his attention away from Roderich, and pointed at Ludwig, gun in hand.

“Ludwig Beildshmidt! You are under arrest!”

Ludwig’s eyes widened. Emotions and stress once again blitzed through him.

“Lutz! Restrain! ...Lutz? Lutz?!”

His eyes darted next to the man to the other figure, what Ludwig thought to be a long-haired, somewhat tall foreign woman in eastern attire, her dark, raven hair pulled back into a ponytail; seemingly holding Lutz back without touching the dog, but clearly struggling.

“Hurry!”

She shouted, in a foreign accent Ludwig didn’t recognize.

Ludwig bolted.

“Don’t you dare, you-“

“Herr Edelmann! Stop, or you will be arrested as well for interfering with police procedure!”

“Don’t touch him!”

The mysterious man finally shoved the weaker-looking man off him and gave chase, but Roderich grappling with him had given him some extra time...

“Ludwig! RUN! RUN!”

But before Ludwig could escape, all of a sudden he was blindsided by a third person, jumping on his back and pinning him down, the boy’s small body no match for the adult.

“LUDWIG!”

“Let me go, LET ME GO!”

That was the last thing he remembered saying before he had been slammed on the back of the head.

Ludwig blacked out.

To be continued in part 2...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Author’s notes:

So I had to split this thing in half since it became much longer than I expected. Wow this is a monster. You will see the parts listed here after I write them. Parts, because this will have two different routes! Hopefully! Then again it seems like no one read this...

Also, the scene with the sea is even more ambiguous “canon” in this already ambiguously “canon” story, but I wanted to write it in because I liked it, having seen the idea that Prussia has some kind of connection to the sea before and liking it. I wish I could find it now. I think Alt-Prussia would have grown up with the sea when he was younger, and while he would stay very strictly a land fighter (in fact the Prussian navy was never all that good, being mostly a merchant fleet. Even the German navy, while it did go through a growth period in the 1880s in competition with Britain I believe, by WWII at least their Kriegsmarine kind of sucked. It’s why the invasion of Britain never happened, their navy would have been laughably curbstomped), and I still associate England, Netherlands, or Portugal way more with the ocean, maybe the North Sea has some kind of soothing effect on him.

Also adorable child!Germany is adorable. Why do I love this kid so much? Why is he so damn cute?!

#Mirror Week 2019 #aphmirrorweek2019 #Day 3 Alternate Universe #Germany pair #evillious chronicles #aph #hws #hws Germany #bringbackhetalia2k19 #Key to Zorn series #Evillious Chronicles x Alt-talia series #alt-talia #hetalia

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graciest · 4 years

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Quarantine Books!

To put it simply, I read a lot. Whenever I find my personal reality to be lacking I search for an escape to a far off land with magic and love and adventure. And lets face it, my personal reality is pretty tedious, especially since I’ve been stuck in quarantine due to COVID-19. As everyone else is also practicing social distancing and might find themselves with a bit of free time, I thought I might encourage you all to turn off Netflix and seek out an alternative form of escapism.

Below is a list of some of my favorite and recent reads! Fair warning, they are all very much of the fantasy/romance/save the world genre.

Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling

Need I say more? This series is a classic and if you have’t read it yet I’m not sure why you’re still on this page GO READ HARRY POTTER. Even if you have read it before I would really encourage you to reread it! I got so much more out of it the second and third (and fourth and fifth) time around! The boy who lived, loved, suffered, endured and smiled is a story worth hearing over and over.

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas

This series is amazing and is directly responsible for reconnecting me to reading in college. It follows the story of 19 year old Feyre, a certified badass. And the story doesn’t stop after the first book but gets SO MUCH BETTER. The second book, A Court of Mist and Fury, touches on depression and abusive relationships while continuing with an exciting plot. You won’t want to put this series down!

Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas

Buckle down because this series is long af, but so incredibly worth it. It begins with probably the most badass character I've come across, Celaena. Her journey throughout 8 books is filled with multiple plot twists, amazing characters and story of sacrifice, love and acceptance of who you truly are.

City of Bones by Cassandra Clare

This complete universe created and perfected by Clare will always have a special place in my heart. Watching Clary and Jace’s story unfold throughout 6 books, 2 wars and trying times is so worth it. The author does an amazing job of weaving her fantasy universe throughout one of the most interesting places on Earth- New York City!

Clockwork Angel by Cassandra Clare

The prequel series to City of Bones takes place in 1800s London! The three main characters create a truly unique love triangle that I’ve never seen before, or since. Each character is so easy to love and I always, and I mean ALWAYS, cry at the end of the final book.

Lady Midnight by Cassandra Clare

The sequel trilogy to City of Bones takes place 5 years after the end of the Mortal Instruments series. I just have mad respect for Clare creating an entire universe and 3 different series within it that keep the readers interested. I wouldn't read these until after you have finished both of the two previous series mentioned!

Circle of Shadows by Evelyn Skye

I loved this book just because there’s nothing like a warrior best friend team that takes the matter of saving the country into their own hands. The second book in the series was just released and I’m planning on reading it as soon as I can.

Abandon by Meg Cabot

Perhaps not my favorite book, but it was a very easy read and is good if you’re looking for something short and simple. It puts a fun modern twist on the tale of Hades and Persephone. Not to mention it takes place in Florida!

The Crown’s Game by Evelyn Skye

Three interesting characters make for a fun read about magic in imperial Russia! I haven’t read the rest of the books in the series but am planning on it!

Twilight by Stephanie Meyer

It doesn’t get better than Forks, Washington. Even if Bella Swan isn’t the most sensational girl I've ever met, I dream of the day I have two extremely hot supernatural boys fighting over me. But seriously, is Bella like always crying or is it just me?

Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo

One of those ordinary-girl-discovers-she’s-extraordinary books which makes for a fun read. I’m currently on the second book. Netflix recently wrapped filming for season 1 of this upcoming TV series but hasn't released its debut date yet!

Snow Like Ashes by Sara Raasch

Awesome series set in an interesting fantasy world! It’s about a main character who has to come to terms with who she is and figure out how to save her people against all odds. Two cute boys definitely enhance the plot.

The Cruel Prince by Holly Black

A twist on stories of the Fae, it follows the tale of Jude as she tries to be accepted in a world that is not her own. Plus, nothing gets your blood going like a hot enemy.

Some classics I love:

Peter Pan

Pride & Prejudice

The Swiss Family Robinson

Treasure Island

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

The Great Gatsby

The Call of the Wild

The Hobbit (+ Lord of the Rings)

The Chronicles of Narnia

Bonus: Poetry!

100 Selected Poems by E.E. Cummings

Milk and Honey

Mother Love by Rita Dove

The Complete Poems by John Keats

Odes by Sharon Olds

The Essential Rumi by Jalal Ad-Din Rumi

I HIGHLY recommended starting with one of the books that looks like this because they are truly some of my favorite! Finally, I thought I would include my personal reading list in case you weren't interested in any of the above.

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Renegades by Marissa Meyer

Carry On by Rainbow Rowell

An Affair of Poisons by Addie Thorley

House of Earth and Blood by Sarah J. Maas

Serpent & Dove by Shelby Mahurin

An Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir

Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson

The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway

Little Women by Louisa M. Alcott

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

#books

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icecoldflames · 5 years

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The Pinnae Flower Chapter 4, Part 1

Masterlist

Underneath Sidney’s Cloak?

We have made plenty of posts about this subject. The longest mystery in the Pinnae series, probably. What is under Sidney’s cloak?

If you just Google searched the topic you’d probably find enough posts and theories about it to make your head spin and take you weeks on end to read all of them through.

Previously, we’ve theorized that maybe Sidney was hiding some kind of tattoo that belonged to one of the rouge sprite gangs. We’ve also theorized that perhaps maybe Sidney wasn’t hiding anything under his cloak and perhaps it was the cloak itself that was important. Maybe a dead relatives' creation or a love interest. We also said that maybe Sidney was hiding a battle scar or something like that that he was embarrassed of due to the fact that he’s petrified of dragons and the thought of them.

But now we’ve got a new theory: what if Sidney used to be a fairy?

We’ve all sensed that Pinnae: Spelunca might take a turn to the dark side. What if Sidney used to be a fairy and his wings were ripped off? Maybe by a dragon (which would again explain his dragon phobia). Or another fairy or sprite ripped them off?

It would make complete sense.

Sidney’s cloak is used to hide the remains of his wings. His wings were maybe ripped out by dragons which would have an everlasting effect on him and making him scared of them.

Might I point out an excerpt from Pinnae: Exsul?

The tree is massive. It’s branches are thick and twisty and the leaves look almost too green. It soars above Exsul with it’s mushroom houses and I swear that I could probably see Magus and Parisa.

“Arel, come on,” Sidney calls out to me. When I turn to look, he has begun to climb the tree. The wind is ruffling his hair yet his cloak doesn’t move. For a split second I wonder what’s beneath it. I’ve heard the rumours from the other sprites.

But I shake those thoughts out and begin climbing the massive tree. I wonder how Sidney feels—that small and climbing this thing. I find it huge, I can’t imagine what it feels like climbing this tree while being a quarter my size.

It takes us some time (and some tree bending on Sidney’s part) to finally make it to the top. The sky is so blue I wish I had a camera and I can hear birds chirping nearby. It’s peaceful. It’s the most at peace I’ve been since the fairies’ pinnae flower was cut.

Sidney perches on one of the smaller branches and I sit on a thicker branch to hold my weight. The wind is stronger up here and I wonder what my kite at home would look like flying and soaring through the endless blue.

A raven flies past us and Sidney watches it, enraptured.

“Have you ever flown before?” I ask curiously.

Sidney’s face is shocked when he looks at me—almost panicked—and I wonder what I said that made him react so strongly.

“I mean, you know, on the back of a bird or something.” I add in quickly, trying to make amends. I run a nervous hand through my hair.

Sidney’s face relaxes and he turns to look back to the raven, now only a speck in the distance. “Yes.”

Ah, the famous tree scene. This is such a nice scene for multiple reasons. For one, Sidney isn’t as rude and closed off. It really shows how much Sidney likes Arel. Secondly, it’s just so beautiful.

In any case, we can see that Sidney has flown before. Although Arel suggests on a bird and Sidney says yes, we can all tell that Sidney might not actually mean on a bird.

When Arel first pops the question, he’s shocked. Only when Arel specifies on a bird does he finally relax and answer the question.

Which brings us to the conclusion that Sidney thought that Arel was talking about something else—something that he shouldn’t know. Like maybe how Sidney used to be a fairy with wings?

It would explain so much and why Sidney’s character is so bitter and cold. It also explains the cloak too.

So that’s the new theory for what’s underneath Sidney’s cloak: remnants of wings.

Thanks for reading my loyal plebeians,

Prince Roman Falco

~~~

A couple of days passed before Roman could bring it up. It was late evening and him and Logan were in their hotel room, sitting on their beds while silently looking at the screens on their computers. The TV was on the news for background noise.

“Logan, I’ve been thinking,” Roman began hesitantly, “I don’t think I necessarily want to figure out Raz’s identity anymore.”

Logan paused his typing and looked over at Roman curiously. He shifted his position on the bed and cocked his head to the side. “And what changed your mind now?”

Something told Roman that Logan already kind of knew the reason for the change of heart but just wanted to hear it from him.

“It’s just that, I was there when Jo was trying to flirt with Virgil. And I got to thinking that that’s what Raz feels like—all this unwanted attention that you don’t want. It must get scary, people constantly trying to figure your identity out.” Roman said, trailing off. Virgil’s terrified, pale face was burned into the back of his eyelids and he wasn’t sure if it would ever go away.

Logan pursed his lips and didn’t say anything for a long time.

Roman’s eyes widened as his thoughts came to the startling conclusion: Logan wanted to figure out Raz Keeran’s identity.

Roman knew Logan enough to know that he wasn’t in this for fame like he had been. He was in it for the sake of solving a mystery.

Roman’s favourite series was the Pinnae series. Logan’s was Sherlock Holmes.

Logan wanted to be Sherlock Holmes. He wanted to solve a mystery. And the mystery has presented himself once he was forced to go on a summer trip at Roman’s request.

Logan’s voice came out meek and Roman wouldn’t have believed it was coming out of him if he hadn’t seen it with his own two eyes. “I really want to find them though.” He looked incredibly conflicted with himself. “But not for fame—for me.”

Roman didn’t know what to say. Was this how Logan had felt when he was obsessed with Raz and finding his identity?

Roman no longer wanted to find out who Raz was. Yet Logan had no intention of releasing the knowledge to the public.

He crossed his arms and legs and then immediately recrossed them. “I’m not so sure about this anymore, Logan,” Roman finally said.

Logan looked flabbergasted. He didn’t speak for a long minute and Roman wondered if he too realized that the roles were now reversed.

They stared at each other, blinking occasionally.

Roman had no idea what to say. If Logan did continue his search, Raz wouldn’t be affected because Logan had no plan to tell the public. But it was still wrong. But Roman would feel bad if he barred Logan from trying to find Raz.

Logan seemed to be in the same boat—unable to speak and unsure what the next move should be.

Finally, when Roman couldn’t handle the thick silence, he managed to form some words. “I...I won’t tell you no but I won’t help you anymore.”

Logan nodded. “Okay.” Was all he said.

To be honest, Logan would probably find Raz quicker without him. He was smart all on his own and Roman got distracted easily. It was probably for the best anyway.

They soon went back to their own business—Roman rereading Pinnae: The New Era and Logan doing whatever he did. Probably research or work from home. Maybe responding to emails.

When Roman finished his book he closed the computer and stood up. He couldn’t stand the silence anymore. Even with the TV on and the clicking sounds from Logan’s computer, it still sounded like an empty room in the dead of night.

“I’m going to go over to Patton’s.” Roman muttered, grabbing his phone and wallet before exiting the hotel room. He breathed deeply as the door clicked shut behind him.

As soon as Roman walked into Patton’s, he wondered if maybe staying at the hotel was the better option because Jo was sitting in Virgil’s spot in the corner.

Patton emerged from the kitchen as he walked in and his eyes immediately looked over to Jo, quietly typing at the computer with such rigor Roman was afraid the computer might break.

“Hey Roman,” Patton said. His voice didn’t have the usual pep it did when he came in.

“Hi Pat.” Roman greeted, trying to walk normally towards the counter. “Could I have some churros?” He needed a taste of home right now.

“How many?” Patton asked, opening the sliding door and gripping the tongs in his right hand.

“Uh, three please.” Roman was tempted to ask if Patton had any edible glitter—preferably pink—but decided against it. He doubted Patton had it anyway.

After Roman paid he found a spot in the middle of the cafe. It’s wasn’t too close to Jo to make him uncomfortable but not too far away that Jo might think he hated her. Which he kind of did. But that wasn’t the point.

“Roman!” Jo exclaimed and both Roman and Patton’s head shot up. “Come here for a moment, I want to get your opinion on something.” Her voice was light—not noticing the tension in the cafe.

Roman glanced at Patton worriedly before taking his last churro with him as he crossed the room. “Yeah?” He prompted, taking a bite of his churro.

Roman glanced at Jo’s screen. The churro went down the wrong way and he began coughing up a fit. The screen. Oh my gosh.

Jo looked at Roman worriedly and Patton quickly hurried over. “Are you alright?” She asked.

“Do you need a glass of water?” Patton said.

Roman coughed one final time, pounding a fist to his chest before saying, “I’m fine. Really. It just went down the wrong way.”

Jo, seemingly not worried anymore now that she knew Roman was fine, gestured to her screen. “You look like the kind of guy to have a knack for dramatic and punchy titles, so what do you think? I’ve narrowed it down to two.”

Roman looked at the screen once again, feeling sweat beginning to pool at his hairline.

AUTHOR RAZ KEERAN: REVEALED

MYSTERIOUS AUTHOR, RAZ KEERAN, FINALLY UNVEILED

Roman felt Patton still behind him.

Jo cocked her head to the side, unsuspecting of everything. “The first one is shorter and gets to the point quicker but the second one is much more dramatic.”

The words came out of Roman’s mouth before he could think them through. “You shouldn’t do this.”

Jo’s eyes narrowed. “Oh. You’re one of those Pinnae fans. ‘Raz should be able to do what he wants.’” Her voice went up a pitch in mocking. “Oh, he should have the freedom to choose, he doesn’t have to be in the spotlight, Raz has his freedom to do what he wants…” Jo gave Roman the death stare and he wondered how someone could be so rude to a practical stranger.

“It’s wrong.” Roman stated once again and it was like Logan’s brain was attached to his own. “Raz does have the choice to choose whether to stay out of the public eye or not. Just because they’re a famous author doesn’t mean they’re obligated to tell their real name and show their face. The public is so cut-throat. You should know this. Raz might not want internet strangers behind a screen picking them apart and stalking them and making them uncomfortable.”

Jo made a disgusted noise and rolled her eyes. “Raz Keeran gave himself up to the press and any scrutiny on a silver platter as soon as he published his first book.”

“No he didn’t.” Roman shot back. Was this how Logan felt, trying to smack some sense into him when he has the same opinions as this woman? “Raz Keeran can do whatever the heck they want. Who’s the famous author again?”

Jo’s eye twitched. “If he has the right to hide under a pseudonym then I have the right to tell the world.”

Roman opened his mouth to make a biting remark but Patton beat him to it. “That is not the same thing.” His voice was the sharpest Roman had ever heard from the man and he was slightly scared. “You have the right to wear your hair however you want. No one has the right to tell you otherwise. As a child, you have the right to education. No one has the right to take that away from you. I have the right to express my opinions, you don’t have the right to silence me.”

If it had been appropriate, Roman would have applauded.

Jo pursed her lips. “If I knew you two were one of those fans, I wouldn’t have asked you for your opinions. Although, I suppose it makes sense.” She shrugged nonchalantly and if she had been chewing gum Roman would have expected her to chew it obnoxiously loud. “You are buddy-buddy with Raz anyway.”

“What?” Roman’s voice went hoarse. “What are you talking about?”

Jo put the face of pure innocence on but Roman could see the malice behind her angelic eyes. “Oh? Virgil hasn’t told you?” She put a hand in front of her mouth like she had just spilled something. “My bad.” She flicked her head around, her ice blonde hair smacking Roman in the face.

Roman felt stone cold and rooted in place. It was only when Patton began pulling him away that his feet finally decided to move, however clumsy.

Virgil was Raz Keeran? Virgil? Roman felt shocked and stunned yet, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

That was the reason why Virgil was hesitant about revealing his opinions about Raz. Because he was him.

No wonder he could afford to spend all that money to get 40 of the rock collectables. Because he was a famous author.

Patton dragged Roman into the kitchen. He looked panicked and frightened. “What do we do?”

Whenever Roman needed help he always went to the same person—his best friend Logan. He always seemed to know what to do.

Even though Roman and Logan weren’t on the best of terms at the moment, this dire situation trumped over everything.

So Roman dialled Logan’s number.

“Yes?” Logan prompted, always straight to the point. His voice didn’t sound annoyed.

“You have to come over to Patton’s immediately.” Roman hissed into the phone.

“Through the kitchen door.” Patton piped up.

“Yes. Through the kitchen door.” Roman repeated.

He could head the springs of the bed squeaking and the rustle of blankets on the other end. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay? What happened?”

“No, everyone’s physically okay.” Roman said. “It’s just that Jo is going to reveal Raz Keeran’s identity. I don’t know what to do. I panicked so I just called you.”

Roman heard Logan suck in a breath. “What? When? How soon?”

Roman heard even quicker shuffling on the other end then a click of a door. “I don’t know. She asked me for options on a title for her article so I would say quite soon.”

“Keep her occupied until I get there. I’ll be over in a second.” Logan said and then the phone went dead as he hung up.

Roman glanced at Patton, his eyebrows drawn downwards. “You can stay here if you want.”

Jo was still at her computer, her forehead creased and her whip straight hair was pulled up in a messy bun. She was typing furiously. A still full cup of coffee was next to her, no longer steaming.

“What do you want?” Jo snapped, not looking up from her computer. Her voice was bitter and strained and reminded Roman of when Logan was immersed in a project. He always hated when he was disrupted.

“You can’t do this, Jo,” Roman pleaded, sliding into the seat across from Jo. “What are you trying to gain from this?”

“Fame. Glory. The title of first person to figure out Raz’s identity. The first person to get it right...” Jo’s voice trailed off.

Roman cringed—this is exactly what he had wanted back then. It was like looking into a mirror. Except, now he was better. He was a changed Pinnie.

If he changed, surely Jo could too.

“You should know how internet fame works, Jo,” Roman said, honing in his inner Logan, “you’ll be top trending on social media and maybe have a Twitter moment but, in a few days time, no one will remember your name. You’ll have a couple news articles about you but soon they’ll be buried by newer news. You’ll have fifteen seconds of fame. That’s it.”

Jo’s sucked in a breath, pausing her typing for just a moment. “Fifteen seconds is better than what I have now.” And she continued her vigorous typing once again.

Where is Logan? “Come on, Jo. Think about this rationally. It isn’t worth it. You’re ruining someone else’s life to give yourself fifteen seconds in the spotlight. Imagine if someone were to do that to you.”

“That would never happen ever because I will always embrace fame, no matter what.” Jo snapped.

Roman was beginning to get desperate. He couldn’t imagine Virgil being yanked into the spotlight like that. So unannounced and forcefully. So, he pulled out his last card. He reached his arm out and slammed the computer shut, Jo just managing to avoid pancakes for fingers. “What the—“

“—Please, Jo. I’ll do anything. Please. Just don’t tell the world about Virgil.” Roman pleaded.

Jo, who had been about to re-open her computer suddenly stopped. “Anything?” She repeated.

“Anything.” Roman confirmed. He cared so much about Virgil, he would do anything to protect him. “What do you want? Money? Life-long groceries using my pocket money? A personal maid—“

“—I want ‘The Prince’s Crown’.”

Roman blinked. “The—?“

“You heard me.” Jo said icily. “I want your blog. All of it. Forever. I want your followers. I want your email list. I want your place in the Pinnae fandom. And, you aren’t allowed to notify your followers of your absence.” Jo looked defiantly into Roman’s eyes.

Roman’s throat parched and his brain seemed to suddenly stop. “The Prince’s Crown”? His baby? This woman wanted that? His pride and joy?

But, through Roman’s halted yet swirling mind, one thought came through crystal clear. Yes. Of course. It makes sense. His blog was popular in the Pinnae fandom. They sometimes got sponsors. If Jo wasn’t able to get her fifteen seconds of fame, owning an incredibly popular blog was the next best thing.

Roman was tempted to say no. But then he thought of Virgil who chose to write under a pseudonym so he wouldn’t be under the scrutiny of thousands of people.

He thought of Virgil—who he really liked—and thought of that intimate moment in the alleyway when Virgil was touching his shirt. It would affect him so horribly. He could barely take Jo’s advances...what would happen when there were thousands of Jo’s?

While Roman could never really assume Virgil’s reaction to being dropped into the spotlight on his head, he could certainly guess. And guess he did.

Roman’s blog was pretty much his everything. But could Roman really keep his blog while Virgil’s life fell apart because of it?

“Deal.” Roman’s voice felt far away and he noticed Patton and Logan in the kitchen doorway. How long have they been there?

Jo grinned a winning smile. “Thank y—“

But Logan interrupted Jo, mid-sentence. “I’ll create the paperwork.”

“What?” Jo spun around to look at Logan. “Why would you need paperwork?”

“It’s good to have things official.” Logan sniffed, walking closer to Jo and Roman’s table. “And the deal set in paper.”

So he did know about Roman’s deal.

Jo frowned. “You don’t think I’ll follow through.” Her voice was accusative and she pointed a finger at him.

“No, I just think it’s good to have a paper copy of the deal. So you both know the limits and you both have something to show if you break them. It goes both ways,” Logan enunciated.

“Actually, that sounds like a great idea.” Jo chirped. Roman hated her happy-go-lucky voice.

Logan gave a tight-lipped smile. “Okay, just hold on while I go get my computer.”

He was gone and back again in less than a minute and, again, Roman wondered what had taken him so long to get to Patton’s the first time.

They talked through the terms of the transfer what Jo and Roman could and could not do.

The only terms Roman could come up with was that “The Prince’s Crown” had to stay a Pinnae series blog and Jo would never expose Virgil to the press or any other kind of media.

Jo, on the other hand, had many terms. Roman wasn’t allowed to tell his followers of the switch of ownership, he wouldn’t say anything about “The Prince’s Crown”, he couldn’t tell anyone about this he knew personally, the email list had to be given to her, he couldn’t do a lot of things.

“And he isn’t allowed to create a new blog surrounding the Pinnae series.” Jo added in.

Roman had every intention of just nodding and agreeing with everything Jo said like the past terms.

However, Logan spoke up about this one. “Oh, come on, Jo. That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

Jo sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She huffed. “He’s allowed to create another Pinnae relegated blog after...ten years.”

Logan glanced at Roman apologetically.

Roman shrugged apathetically. “Fine by me.”

Logan quickly typed this up. “Is that all?”

Jo thought to herself and Roman braced himself for another term to slap him in the face. “No...I think that’s it.”

Roman breathed a sigh of relief. It could be worse, he thought. It could be worse…

Logan smiled grimly and closed his computer, standing up. “I’ll go print this at the library. I’ll be back soon.”

Jo grabbed her phone. “While you do that, I’m going to book some plane tickets to get out of this dump.” She rolled her eyes and began dialing numbers.

Logan left and Patton must have retreated back to the kitchen so Roman was all alone in the cafe with Jo who was arguing with whoever was on the other end. Roman felt sorry for the poor bugger.

Roman flinched when his phone buzzed in his jean pocket. He unlocked his phone and glanced curiously at the text from Virgil.

Wait until she’s super impatient and seconds from blowing her head off. Then, text me “now”.

Roman read and reread the text over and over again.

What are you talking about?

Virgil’s text came back almost instantly.

Wait until Jo is about to blow her top. Then, text me “now”. Just trust me oh this.

Okay. I trust you.

Roman had no idea what Virgil was doing but he did trust him wholeheartedly.

Jo got off the phone and leaned back smugly in her chair. “I’ve got a plane ticket to Alabama in four hours. Enough time to get to the airport and through security.”

As the time ticked by, Jo’s smug smirk slowly fell away. “Where are they? I thought they were going to print a couple sheets of paper?” Her voice was growing annoyed but Roman could tell she wasn’t an overflowing volcano yet.

More time went on and soon Jo asked Roman to text Logan to see what was taking him so long.

What’s taking you so long? Jo wants to know.

The printer’s malfunctioning. I should be able to get it working in a couple more minutes.

“The printer’s not working…” Roman said. “But Logan said he’d get it working in a couple minutes.”

Jo huffed. “Show me.”

“What?”

Jo sighed and made a ‘come here’ motion with her hand. “Show me the text. I want to make sure you’re not lying.”

Roman flashed his phone screen to Jo who read it over at least three times before finally coming to the conclusion that the text was legit.

More minutes passed. Jo made him text Logan three separate times, Logan not answering either one of them.

“I’m going to miss my plane!” Jo exclaimed, furiously typing on her phone. She had her suitcases surrounding her, ready to go the minute she signed the contract.

Three minutes and 43 seconds passed when Roman finally thought Jo might blow.

She was cursing up a storm and Jo was about to stand up to find Logan herself. “I swear! I am going to find that man and—“

Now.

Roman texted the signal to Virgil and instantly Logan hustled in.

Roman blinked. Had Logan been waiting outside the door all along?

“Sorry, sorry, sorry…” Logan trailed off. He had his computer under his arm and papers in his hands. “The printer wasn’t working so I had to go all the way across town and—“

“Just let me sign the dang papers!” Jo snapped, her arms outstretched and a black ink pen ready in her hand. “I have a flight soon and I still have to drive to the airport!”

Logan gave Jo two sheets stapled together. “Here’s your copy.” He passed Jo another two stapled sheets. “Here’s Roman’s copy.” And another. “And here’s my copy.”

“Why do we need three copies?” Roman asked as Jo skimmed through the first paragraph and skipped through the lines and sentences before signing her name on the two lines. The “I have read the terms and agreements” and the simple “I agree with all terms and agreements”.

“In case one of you guys lose them. It’s always good to have a backup.”

Jo signed the other two copies in record time.

“Good doing business with you.” Roman said, signing his own name on Jo’s copy.

“Can’t say likewise,” Jo muttered, snatching the copy out of Roman’s hands and scurrying out the door.

The cafe felt eerily silent and empty. The fact that “The Prince’s Crown” was no longer his gourged a piece out of his heart. It was gone.

Roman should have been happy. Jo wasn’t going to tell the world about Virgil. And he was.

But his blog was gone.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal. It was just a blog. Just a simple blog.

But it was his blog. Not just any blog. His.

Logan sat down in the chair Jo had just left and Patton emerged from the kitchen.

“I said to keep her occupied,” Logan said quietly. “Not barter away your blog.”

“It’s the only thing I thought of.” Roman muttered, hanging his head and crossing his arms.

The bell rang signalling a customer but Roman didn’t look up.

“Thank you for doing that for me,” said Virgil’s voice and Roman’s head shot up. “Your blog must mean so much to you.”

Roman shrugged, trying to play it off and ignore the aching in his heart. “Eh. I can make a new one in ten years.” He paused. “It could be worse.”

Virgil drew closer. “Seriously though, thank you.” He pulled up a chair and sat next to Roman. He grabbed a copy of the terms of transferral. “Listen, you phoned Logan the first time he came to find me.”

Roman nodded hesitantly, unsure as to where this was going. However, this now did explain why Logan was so slow getting to Patton’s in the first place.

“And I came through the back with Logan and heard everything.” Virgil’s shoves his left hand in his hoodie pocket and ran his right hand through his hair nervously. “And then I got the idea…” he trailed off.

Virgil passed the paper to Roman. “It isn’t much but...sixth paragraph.”

Roman took the paper and counted down to the sixth paragraph, reading the middle sentence.

Roman Falco will be able to create a new Pinnae series-related blog in exactly one month after the signing.

Roman blinked to make sure it was true and wasn’t a trick of the light.

But it was still there—in ink. On the official papers.

His heart soared. One month. That was nothing compared to ten years.

However, Roman thought of Jo and what she could do if she figured this out. This wasn’t one of the terms they had agreed on. “What about Jo?”

Logan smiled and pointed to the line where Jo had hastily scribbled down her name. “The line she signed says she read the terms of agreement.”

Roman’s eyebrows raised and he looked between Virgil and Logan. “Oh my gosh.” He said. “Oh my gosh.” He repeated.

24 notes · View notes

ryqoshay · 3 years

Text

Tri-Arame: Sitting Sasuke

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Words: ~3k Rating: G Time Frame: Late in the first trimester of their 2nd year Story Arc: Stand Alone

———-

Author’s Note: Ever since myon included Sasuke in her SetsuAyu doujin, I knew I needed to include Ayumu’s pet in my fic as well. And I had to borrow a certain idea from the doujin as well, because it fit so well with headcanons I already had for the girls.

I’ll link the doujin as well as another source of inspiration in my followup post so tumblr doesn’t drop this one from searches; the tag is barren enough as it is...

----------

Setsuna hummed happily to herself as she entered the clubroom and turned toward her hidden stash of manga with the intent of getting a chapter or two read before the others arrived. The next book was being released soon in one of her favorite series, so she wanted to reread the previous book to remind herself where everything had left off. Of course, the series was so good that any of the books warranted a reread on their own merit as well.

However, something on the other side of the room caught Setsuna’s eye. Strange, she didn’t remember an aquarium there before. Her manga quickly forgotten, she made her way over. Oh, it wasn’t an aquarium as it wasn’t filled with water, rather it just had a bowl of it in the middle. What was the term used for… terrarium, that was it. So, what critter had one of her friends decided to bring to school?

Setsuna hunched down to get a better view into the various structures in which an animal could hide within the terrarium. At first, she didn’t see anything, so she shifted her position to check through one of the side panels. And that was when she finally spotted it, a purple snake, coiled up inside something that resembled a pink rabbit.

“It’s so~ cu~te!” Setsuna couldn’t help saying aloud as she stared, transfixed at the animal.

Though she’d never considered herself a fan of snakes, she wasn’t exactly afraid of them either. She’d seen larger snakes at the zoo and smaller ones while out hiking but had always been indifferent toward them. This time, however, instead of a neutral reaction, she found herself wanting to hold this one and see it up close. As such, Setsuna had to resist the urge to pull off the top of the terrarium and reach in. It would be best to ask permission from the owner, she told herself. After all, she didn’t know if it was venomous or if it would be afraid of strangers or whatever and the last thing she wanted to do was to scare or hurt the cute little thing.

“Setsuna-chan?”

Setsuna jumped and let out a startled cry as she whirled to face the door, twisting awkwardly from her position and throwing herself off balance. “Yuu-san? Ayumu-san?” She uttered, catching herself on the bookshelf.

“You found him…” Ayumu’s expression was apologetic.

“Eh?” Setsuna was confused. How was she expected to not notice such a sizable addition to the clubroom?

“Sorry for not asking permission first.”

Oh. Yeah, it did actually violate one of the school’s policies. But Setsuna hadn’t even considered that earlier as she had been so distracted by the adorableness. And of course, he belonged to Ayumu, the pink rabbit enclosure should have been enough of a giveaway.

“It’s fine. I’ll let it slide this time.” Setsuna assured.

Relief took over Ayumu’s posture. “Thank you.”

“So, to what do we owe the pleasure of his visit?”

“Construction.” Yuu said.

“Hm?”

“That storm last week did some damage to the exterior of our apartment complex.” Yuu explained further. “So now they’re fixing it.”

“And the noise has been stressing out Sasuke to the point where he’s not eating or even wanting to be held or do anything other than hide.” Ayumu continued.

“So, poor Sasuke-san is scared?” Setsuna turned her attention back to the terrarium. “Awwww…”

“Under different circumstances, I’d give him to Yuu-chan for a little while, but she’s right next door, so that wouldn’t be much of an escape.”

“That makes sense.”

“Plus, I’ve temporarily banned Yuu-chan from feeding Sasuke because she…”

“Ayumu~!” Yuu suddenly whined. “That’s supposed to be a secret! And besides, it’s not my fault he keeps looking at me with those adorable, pleading eyes. How could I not give him a second serving?” She blinked and covered her mouth as she realized she had just been the one to divulge the details of the supposed secret.

Both Setsuna and Ayumu laughed a little at the cute behavior.

“Anyway,” Ayumu continued “I was hoping I could either leave him here for a little while or maybe someone from the club could…”

“I’ll take him!” Setsuna offered before realizing she was interrupting. “Sorry, I mean…”

This time, it was Yuu who chuckled at the reaction.

“It’s alright.” Ayumu dismissed with a shake of her head and a smile. “But are you sure? Do you want to check with your parents first?”

“It will be fine.”

“Have you ever taken care of a snake before?”

“No, but surly I can look up what I need online, right?”

“I’ll just write up a list of things that Sasuke is used to, like feeding times and temperatures and light and such.”

“That works too.” Setsuna nodded. “Say, uhm… you said he didn’t like being held…”

“Oh, no, he usually likes it when I hold and play with him, but he’s just been so stressed by the noise…”

“I see, do you think maybe I could…” Setsuna’s gaze drifted back toward the terrarium.

“Well, he’s pretty shy around strangers.” Ayumu admitted. “It took him a number of visits to get used to Yuu-chan. You’re welcome to try, of course, but don’t be too disappointed if he doesn’t respond.”

Setsuna couldn’t help smiling as she lifted the hinged portion of the lid. “Hey, Sasuke-san.” She cooed as she reached her hand toward the pink structure.

A curious purple head poked out at the mention of his name and a forked tongue flicked out to taste the scent of the new person invading his home. Setsuna paused a few centimeters away, remembering Ayumu saying he might be shy and hoping Sasuke would be the one to close the distance. Thankfully, her instincts were right and a moment later he was coiling around her hand and wrist. She giggled at the strange sensation of scales sliding over her skin.

“Wow…” Yuu breathed in awe.

“I think he likes you, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu said happily.

“He really is adorable…” Setsuna swooned as she pulled her arm out of the tank and moved it closer so she could better inspect the creature.

As if in response to the praise, Sasuke slithered farther up the raven-haired girl’s arm and held his head up close to her face.

“Uhm, forgive me for asking, Ayumu-san,” Setsuna started as she reached her free hand up to pat the snake gently on the head “but what made you choose a snake for a pet? He’s adorable, but I would have thought you would go with something…” she paused to decide the best word “fluffier? Like a rabbit or something.”

“It was all Yuu-chan’s fault.” Ayumu responded with a smile that indicated a wealth of warm memories were welling up within her.

Of course. That made sense.

“Rabbits are definitely one of my favorite animals,” the redhead continued “and Yuu-chan has known that since not long after we met. So, for my birthday one year, she saved up and tried to buy a stuffed rabbit she knew I would like.”

“But it turned out to be a bit too expensive.” Yuu added with a slightly embarrassed chuckle. “So as a last resort, I found a plush I knew I could get from a crane machine, a purple snake. I was worried she wouldn’t like it, but…”

“I’m sure Ayumu-san would like any gift from Yuu-san.” Setsuna thought aloud.

“You’re right there, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu confirmed.

“Working hard to obtain a gift but ending up having to get something else that is still loved by the recipient because the thoughtfulness of the giver is more important to them is a classic trope.” Setsuna explained. “Some of my favorite episodes and chapters have been centered around such a plot device.”

Both Yuu and Ayumu laughed lightly.

“So that made you fall in love with snakes and that’s why you got Sasuke-san?” Setsuna pondered.

Ayumu shook her head. “No, that was Yuu-chan again. She spotted him at a pet store and set up a plan for me to get him.”

“Like with the plush from years before, he was more expensive than I could afford.” Yuu admitted. “But I had the store hold him for a few days and between Ayumu and I, and with some help from her parents, we were able to get him.”

“Mmm, that sounds nice.” Setsuna said with a smile, despite a small pang of jealousy. But who could blame her? Who wouldn’t want to be with someone so obviously devoted to them? “Hehe.” She suddenly laughed as a completely different idea came to her. “If I put him over my shoulders, instead of a feather boa, I’d be wearing an actual boa.”

“He’s a python actually.” Ayumu corrected. “A ball python. But he does like riding on my shoulders at home.”

“Want to ride my shoulders?” Setsuna asked of the snake on her arm as if he might actually understand. “I’d wear him through practice if I wasn’t afraid of him falling.” She continued as she coaxed Sasuke into position.

“He’s pretty good at holding on as I walk around.” Ayumu said. “But the sudden movements of our dances might scare him.”

“Mmm.” Setsuna nodded in agreement. “But still, wouldn’t it be fun to design a costume around him?”

“Maybe write a song about him?” Yuu chimed in.

“Yeah, something like a ballad with slow, graceful movements.” She hummed a random tune and made gentle wave motions with her arms, carefully monitoring Sasuke’s response. “Though I suppose if he’s shy, he may not like the crowd too much…”

“Or the flashing lights and effects.” Ayumu added.

“Well if that’s a concern, why not a small, private show?” Yuu suggested. “Like just the three of us?”

“That might work better.” Ayumu seemed to be warming to the idea.

“Sounds like fun.” Setsuna said with an excited smile.

“Oh, and if we do want to share it with others,” Yuu shared in the excitement “we could always film it and make it a PV to post online.”

“That’s an amazing idea, Yuu-san! We should try that someday.”

“Semp… AAAIII!” Kasumi’s call for her senior turned into a scream.

“Kasumi-san?!” Shizuku exclaimed as her fellow first-year spun and barreled into her as though she had forgotten she was there.

“S-s-snake!” The ash blonde cried in a panic, trying to push past the brunette to escape the clubroom they had just entered.

“Kasumi-san, wait!” Shizuku called before giving chase to her fellow first-year.

“Uhm…” Setsuna pondered as she moved back toward the terrarium. “Do we have anything here that we could use to cover this thing until I can bring it home after practice?”

“I think Kanata-san has a blanket or two…” Yuu thought aloud.

“We probably shouldn’t borrow them without her permission.” Ayumu dismissed. “What if she is scared of snakes as well and it ends up bothering her to have her blankets used in such a way?”

“Perhaps we can leave him in the student counsel office for the time being?” Setsuna offered.

“That sounds good.” Ayumu nodded.

“Back in you go, Sasuke-san.” Setsuna guided the snake down her arm and into his terrarium. “Everything will be alright. One short little move now and another big one in a bit, but then you’ll be in a nice quite apartment. Sound like a plan?”

For his part, Sasuke slithered into his rabbit enclosure and coiled up. However, after a moment, he poked his head out and stared at Setsuna for a few seconds before pulling back in.

“Looks like he agrees.” Ayumu commented before lifting the tank to take it to the student counsel office.

----------

Everything was not alright.

Setsuna sighed as she stared at the snake in the terrarium she had just finished setting up in her room.

She really should have checked with her parents first. Or perhaps she should have made sure she knew everything about caring for a snake before she jumped at the opportunity to do so. While she maintained confidence that she was able to do everything on Ayumu’s list, it took quite a bit of convincing before her parents let her store the frozen mice in their freezer.

And what the heck was up with this one instruction on the list? Was it normal for snake owners to sing to their pets to encourage them to eat? Or was it simply something special Ayumu did for Sasuke?

Well, Setsuna did recall reading at some point about some study performed with music as an aid in plant growth. And it was true that music had a power that transcended the need to understand the language of the lyrics. Babies and many mammals responded positively to music. So why not reptiles? Suddenly, the practice no longer seemed strange to Setsuna.

She got up and quickly made her way to the bathroom to retrieve the mouse she had left thawing in the sink. Ayumu had mentioned that since Sasuke was well past his scheduled feeding, that Setsuna should make an attempt as soon as possible.

“Ready to eat, Sasuke-san?” Setsuna asked, pulling the mouse out of its bag with a large pair of tweezers and opening the lid of the terrarium. “Here comes a cute little mouse.” She moved the food as though to pretend it was alive.

When Sasuke did not seem to repond, Setsuna leaned down to check. Sure enough, he hadn’t budged at all. His eyes were open, so he was undoubtedly aware of Setsuna and the presence of food, but he remained still.

Well, music it is then. Setsuna stood straight and took a breath.

“Hashiridashita! Omoi wa tsuyoku suru yo.” Setsuna began, keeping her volume low so as not to disturb her parents. However, she almost forgot the next line when Sasuke’s head popped out of his enclosure. “Nayandara kimi no te o nigirou.” The snake seemed to be ignoring the mouse and stared directly up at her. As there was no music accompanying her, Setsuna skipped a few beats ahead to keep the song going. “Daiji na kimochi maru de uragiru you ni sugoshita…”

Setsuna continued through the first verse, watching Sasuke for any further response beyond occasionally flicking out his tongue. Upon reaching the chorus, she began moving the mouse again. This time, it caught Sasuke’s attention. Just inside the enclosure, Setsuna could see scales sliding past each other as the snake shifted its position. Then, right as she reached the end of the chorus, Sasuke struck.

Startled at the swift movement, Setsuna almost dropped the tweezers. Her mental record scratched for second before she recovered and continued into the second verse. She then withdrew the tweezers and gently closed the lid before watching with fascination as Sasuke began the process of slowly swallowing the mouse.

Only a bulge behind Sasuke’s head remained as evidence of his feeding by the time Setsuna finished her song. Smiling, she retrieved her phone and snapped a quick picture to send to Ayumu.

“Good boy, Sasuke-san.” Setsuna cooed a she hit Send.

UeharaAyumu: He ate!

UeharaAyumu: Oh thank goodness

UeharaAyumu: I was so worried

UeharaAyumu: Thank you so much Setsuna-chan!

ScarletStorm: You are welcome, Ayumu-san

ScarletStorm: But no thanks are truly necessary.

ScarletStorm: I merely followed your well-written instructions.

UeharaAyumu: But I do need to thank you

UeharaAyumu: For providing Sasuke with an environment where he felt comfortable

UeharaAyumu: He trusts you

UeharaAyumu: And that is enough to be thankful for

ScarletStorm: Very well then.

ScarletStorm: On a related note, your instructions say that I should not hold him until he is finished digesting?

UeharaAyumu: That’s right

UeharaAyumu: I think most of us might need a rest after eating basically a week’s worth of food in one meal

ScarletStorm: That makes sense

Though it made sense, Setsuna found it a little disappointing. While her primary reason for agreeing to watch Sasuke was to help a friend in need, she also had a selfish reason of wanting to experience what it might be like to have a pet, even if just for a week or so. And part of having a pet was petting it and holding it and the like, right?

UeharaAyumu: But don’t worry, Setsuna-chan

UeharaAyumu: He should be good to go in a day or two, depending on a few factors

UeharaAyumu: But given the circumstances, I would bet on the lower side of that range

UeharaAyumu: Just check in on him when you get home from practice tomorrow

UeharaAyumu: He trusts you so if he’s ready, he will come to you if you put your hand near him like you did earlier today

Setsuna chuckled. It almost seemed like Ayumu had read her mind though the phone.

ScarletStorm: Alright, I will try that tomorrow.

ScarletStorm: Thank you, Ayumu-san.

UeharaAyumu: I’m the one who should be thanking you

UeharaAyumu: For agreeing to take care of Sasuke

UeharaAyumu: And for getting him to eat

ScarletStorm: You already thanked me for that.

ScarletStorm: And the pleasure is mine.

ScarletStorm: Anyway, I need to get back to my studies.

ScarletStorm: But I wanted to give you an update on Sasuke-san first.

UeharaAyumu: It was very much appreciated

UeharaAyumu: Have a good night, Setsuna-chan

UeharaAyumu: See you tomorrow!

ScarletStorm: Yes, you as well. See you tomorrow.

Setsuna set down her phone and turned her attention back to the terrarium, only to find Sasuke staring up at her. Oh dear… was this what Yuu meant when she meant by adorable, pleading eyes? She suddenly empathized with the plight the twin-tailed girl faced. The temptation to go thaw out another mouse was ris… No. She shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Sasuke-san.” Setsuna apologized. “Ayumu-san said you can only have one at a time. She was very clear on that. But… she didn’t limit how many songs I could sing to you… Would you like me to sing something else?”

Sasuke lifted his head and flicked his tongue as if to respond that he was interested.

“Alright.” Setsuna said with a smile. “How about an old favorite of mine from one of the best groups in school idol history?”

----------

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

#YuuAyuSetsu #Takasaki Yuu #Yuki Setsuna #Uehara Ayumu #Tri-Arame #Love Live Nijigasaki #fanfic

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fencer-x · 5 years

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Hello! I’ve been looking for some good books to read and was wondering if you had any recommendations? I seem to just wander around the bookstore not knowing where to start.

I confess I’ve been reading nothing but fics on fics on fics (Drarry exclusively lol) for a good year now, so I haven’t touched original works in ages, though I have several of the latest installments of my favorite series waiting until I run out of good Drarry fic... (please...god...free me from this hell........)

I’ve made several recommendations for excellent M/M original works (you can always check out my reccs tag for any recommendations as well, though it includes original novels as well as manga and fic). I pretty much only read M/M fantasy (with the very VERY occasional M/M scifi or supernatural book thrown in), so I hope that’s what you’re looking for XD

Here’s a “””””””brief””””””” recap of series I particularly enjoy and go back to reread often, along with details on who might like these books and why. They’re all available via Amazon (most as Kindle reads, but some as paperbacks; some are also available from other sources as well in other formats if you prefer, for example, epub) and at reasonable prices (all but one series are under $10 per book, some under $5).

It is entirely possible you’ve read all of these, since I’ve gushed about them many a time before, and if that’s the case, I apologize I can’t rec you anything new! But maybe it’s been a while if you’ve read these before and it’s time for a reread!

The Lord of the White Hell series, by Ginn Hale - [GOODREADS BLURB: "Kiram Kir-Zaki may be considered a mechanist prodigy among his own people, but when he becomes the first Haldiim ever admitted to the prestigious Sagrada Academy, he is thrown into a world where power, superstition and swordplay outweigh even the most scholarly of achievements. But when the intimidation from his Cadeleonian classmates turns bloody, Kiram unexpectedly finds himself befriended by Javier Tornesal, the leader of a group of cardsharps, duelists and lotharios who call themselves Hellions. However Javier is a dangerous friend to have. Wielder of the White Hell and sole heir of a dukedom, he is surrounded by rumors of forbidden seductions, murder and damnation. His enemies are many and any one of his secrets could not only end his life but Kiram’s as well."]

Read this if you like... magic and science working together, religion-borne racism and the difficulties of interracial as well as interreligious relationships, snarky aristocrats and a good mystery. And read the second book in the series definitely if you liked Yokozawa Takafumi no Baai or Sore Nari ni Shinken nan desu (I've found I really like stories where the rejected third-party from the main series gets his own happy ending, and Book 2 of this series is one such, building an entire new couple with the midway-through-the-story return of Book 1 couple so you get the best of both worlds.)

The Magpie Lord series by K.J.Charles - [GOODREADS BLURB: "Exiled to China for twenty years, Lucien Vaudrey never planned to return to England. But with the mysterious deaths of his father and brother, it seems the new Lord Crane has inherited an earldom. He’s also inherited his family’s enemies. He needs magical assistance, fast. He doesn’t expect it to turn up angry. Magician Stephen Day has good reason to hate Crane’s family. Unfortunately, it’s his job to deal with supernatural threats. Besides, the earl is unlike any aristocrat he’s ever met, with the tattoos, the attitude… and the way Crane seems determined to get him into bed. That’s definitely unusual. Soon Stephen is falling hard for the worst possible man, at the worst possible time. But Crane’s dangerous appeal isn’t the only thing rendering Stephen powerless. Evil pervades the house, a web of plots is closing round Crane, and if Stephen can’t find a way through it—they’re both going to die."]

Read this if you like...magic and 19th century UK settings and snarky aristocrats who guard their hearts fiercely. The dynamic is fantastic, and the writing itself is gorgeous.

Whyborn & Griffin series, by Jordan Hawk - [GOODREADS BLURB: (Summary of Book 1) “Love is dangerous. Ever since the tragic death of the friend he adored, Percival Endicott Whyborne has ruthlessly suppressed any desire for another man. Instead, he spends his days studying dead languages at the museum where he works. So when handsome ex-Pinkerton Griffin Flaherty approaches him to translate a mysterious book, Whyborne wants to finish the job and get rid of the detective as quickly as possible. Griffin left the Pinkertons after the death of his partner. Now in business for himself, he must investigate the murder of a wealthy young man. His only clue: an encrypted book that once belonged to the victim. As the investigation draws them closer, Griffin’s rakish charm threatens to shatter Whyborne’s iron control. But when they uncover evidence of a powerful cult determined to rule the world, Whyborne must choose: to remain safely alone, or to risk everything for the man he loves.”]

Read if you like... magic and the supernatural and 19th century US settings and Eldritch monsters and mystery and intrigue and adventure and era-appropriate treatment of homosexual relationships but with happy endings (and also couples of all types).

The Nightrunner series, by Lynn Flewelling - [GOODREADS BLURB: "When young Alec of Kerry is taken prisoner for a crime he didn’t commit, he is certain that his life is at an end. But one thing he never expected was his cellmate. Spy, rogue, thief, and noble, Seregil of Rhiminee is many things--none of them predictable. And when he offers to take on Alec as his apprentice, things may never be the same for either of them. Soon Alec is traveling roads he never knew existed, toward a war he never suspected was brewing. Before long he and Seregil are embroiled in a sinister plot that runs deeper than either can imagine, and that may cost them far more than their lives if they fail. But fortune is as unpredictable as Alec’s new mentor, and this time there just might be…Luck in the Shadows."]

Read this if you like... magic, spies, fantastic female characters, adventure, and intrigue. Read also if you love looooong series, as it's complete at 7 books!

Scarlet and the White Wolf series, by Kirby Crow - [GOODREADS BLURB: "Scarlet of Lysia is an honest pedlar, a young merchant traveling the wild, undefended roads to support his aging parents. Liall, called the Wolf of Omara, is the handsome, world-weary chieftain of a tribe of bandits blocking a mountain road that Scarlet needs to cross. When Liall jokingly demands a carnal toll for the privilege, Scarlet refuses and an inventive battle of wills ensues, with disastrous results. Scarlet is convinced that Liall is a worthless, immoral rogue, but when the hostile countryside explodes into violence and Liall unexpectedly fights to save the lives of Scarlet's family, Scarlet is forced to admit that the Wolf is not the worst ally he could have, but what price will proud Scarlet ultimately have to pay for Liall's friendship?"]

Read this if you like... weird twists on old fairy tales with amazing world-building, provided you're willing to put up with a little bit of a slog until the couple really gets on the same page.

Captive Prince, by C.S.Pacat - [GOODREADS BLURB: "Damen is a warrior hero to his people, and the rightful heir to the throne of Akielos, but when his half brother seizes power, Damen is captured, stripped of his identity, and sent to serve the prince of an enemy nation as a pleasure slave. Beautiful, manipulative and deadly, his new master Prince Laurent epitomizes the worst of the court at Vere. But in the lethal political web of the Veretian court, nothing is as it seems, and when Damen finds himself caught up in a play for the throne, he must work together with Laurent to survive and save his country. For Damen, there is just one rule: never, ever reveal his true identity. Because the one man Damen needs is the one man who has more reason to hate him than anyone else..."]

Read this if you like... phenomenal skill with the written word (I mean REALLY TOP NOTCH), fantastic characters with real evolution in relationships, amazingly intricate political intrigue (guaranteed to keep you guessing the whole way), enemies-to-friends-to-"I think if I gave you my heart, you would treat it tenderly"-to-...well, I won't spoil things 8D Please note the 'slavery' aspect that is heavily featured in Book 1. There is NO RAPE between the main characters, but there are forced sexual scenes between Damen and another minor character (n.b. minor as in not major, not minor as in a kid), and well, Laurent just isn't a very kind 'master', nor does he pretend to be. This is not your typical 'omg the slave falls in love with the master and vice versa!!' dreck, but do be aware that the first book deals intimately with those themes as Damen must play his part.

Wytch Kings series, by Jaye McKenna - [GOODREADS BLURB: (Summary of Book 1) "Prince Garrik is the Heir Presumptive of Altan, next in line to be crowned Wytch King. There’s only one problem: in order for Garrik to be crowned, he must possess Wytch power of his own, and thus far, whatever power Garrik might possess has shown no sign of awakening. As things stand, it is Garrik’s younger brother, Jaire — a dreamer completely unsuited to wear the crown — who will take the throne after their father. Concerned about the future of his kingdom, the Wytch King demands that Garrik’s power be forcibly awakened. Hoping to protect his brother from the burden of rule, Garrik allows the attempt — with disastrous results. Now, Garrik must learn to control the fiery dragon that rages within him before he destroys everything he loves. Wytch Master Ilya has been alone for years. Learning to control the icy beast slumbering within him has already cost him his family and his lover, and Ilya will never open himself up to that kind of pain again. Summoned to Altan to avert disaster if he can, Ilya has no intention of allowing anyone to thaw the ice in his heart. When he meets Prince Garrik, sparks fly, and Ilya finds himself fighting feelings he thought he'd buried, long ago. Can Garrik’s fire melt Ilya’s icy heart? Or will Ilya be forced to use his ice to quench the flames that burn within Garrik once and for all?"]

Read if you like... DRAGON SHIFTERS. There's really not much more I can say to encourage you to read this series (there are five so far!) other than to say HERE THERE BE DRAGONS, AND LOTS OF THEM, AND HOT GUYS WHO TRANSFORM INTO THEM. The plots are interwoven, with side characters from previous books showing up as MCs in subsequent ones, so you get to see major characters fleshed out, even if not right away.

Mermen of Ea series, by Shira Anthony - [GOODREADS BLURB: (Summary of Book 1) "Taren Laxley has never known anything but life as a slave. When a lusty pirate kidnaps him and holds him prisoner on his ship, Taren embraces the chance to realize his dream of a seagoing life. Not only does the pirate captain offer him freedom in exchange for three years of labor and sexual servitude, but the pleasures Taren finds when he joins the captain and first mate in bed far surpass his greatest fantasies. Then, during a storm, Taren dives overboard to save another sailor and is lost at sea. He’s rescued by Ian Dunaidh, the enigmatic and seemingly ageless captain of a rival ship, the Phantom, and Taren feels an overwhelming attraction to Ian that Ian appears to share. Soon Taren learns a secret that will change his life forever: Ian and his people are Ea, shape-shifting merfolk… and Taren is one of them too. Bound to each other by a fierce passion neither can explain or deny, Taren and Ian are soon embroiled in a war and forced to fight for a future—not only for themselves but for all their kind."]

Read if you like... MERMEN SEX. Again, not much more I can say to encourage you to read this XD There's mermen having sex in mer form, there's mermen having sex in human form, there's just lots of mermen and rather a lot of sex too. But there's also interesting plot! Though lbr if you're going to read this, it's for the mermen XD

#gay fantasy #reccs

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whiskynottea · 6 years

Text

An interruption in the 1st law of thermodynamics.

Previously, Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35

@theministerskat, thank you for being my awesome beta for this story!!

Chapter 36. Almond and Cherries

Spring break.

My last spring break as a teenager. The one in which my suspicion that adults can be just as ridiculous as teenagers was confirmed. And that they’re especially ridiculous when they think themselves funny.

Another silly bit of knowledge I also learned overt spring break was that adults - particularly my uncle - find young love adorable. And because of that, they think it’s quite funny to tease young lovers about it.

“Claire,” Lamb said from his spot in front of the bookshelf. He had been standing there for more than ten minutes, inspecting the books with a frown on his face, his index finger drumming against his chin. “Can you please get me the volumes on the Jacobite rebellion from my desk? Those ones, with the red leather cover,” he pointed towards his desk and my gaze followed his finger across the room, landing on the large hardcover tomes on his desk, their covers a deep burgundy, carved with black letters.

“That’s burgundy, not red,” I playfully snipped, then I rose from the couch, sighing. I walked to his desk, slipping my phone into my pocket just a second before I picked the books up in my hands.

“Well, look at that now,” Lamb said with a cocked eyebrow and a crooked smile. “I would swear that phone was glued to your hand!”

I shot him a glare before rolling my eyes. “Ha, ha, ha. What a funny uncle I have.”

Lamb chuckled at his own joke and extended a hand to take a volume from me. “Yer a lucky lass,” he said, his Scottish accent even worse than mine.

Remarks like that had become a staple in our interactions during spring break because, apparently, I was always texting, half my mind focused on Jamie. The fact that I took a new selfie every two minutes didn’t help with Lamb’s teasing much, but there was nothing I could do about it. Lamb just went on with his hilarious remarks and I thought my eyes would get stuck looking skywards from being rolled all the time.

My phone buzzed with hundreds of messages every day – and every night: the night texts being the reason I never let it out of my sight. Lamb’s teasing of me was bearable, but I couldn’t risk him accidentally reading Jamie’s texts about what he planned to do to me once he was back from Lallybroch. I, however, found myself scrolling up every night before sleeping, reading and rereading his texts, feeling an ache in my chest and a tightening low in my belly. It was like getting drunk on him. I usually fell asleep with a silly smile on my face and one of Jamie’s pictures on my phone’s screen.

Jamie’s pictures. In just a few days my phone was full of them, to an extent that proved detrimental to my phone’s free storage space.

Jamie in bed, with tousled hair and a sleepy smile.

Scot: Moooorning, Sassenach.

And then, after a long silence on my part because I was obviously still sleeping,

Scot: Wake up, babe! Don’t leave me alone!

The porridge Jamie had for breakfast – extremely similar to the one he had had the day before, but still worth sharing.

Scot: Breakfast! Have to eat fast, da waiting to leave for the distillery.

Jamie at the distillery, making a goofy face in front of the copper stills.

Scot: Hard working man, here. You like?

His distillery picture - every time at a different place of the distillery - came through at approximately the time I woke up.

Sassenach: Mmmm. Morning!

Another picture showing half the ceiling and half Jamie’s face, taken from a weird angle.

Sassenach: What’s this?

Scot: Da watching. Was the best I could do.

Jamie’s time at the distillery was the only part of the day when we didn’t text. Brian was serious about his son’s training concerning the family whisky, and Jamie soon realized that since he was going to be there, he better make it count. It would be a few hours later when another picture would arrive.

Jamie back home, grinning broadly to the camera next to Bran, his deerhound, patiently awaiting his favorite human to stop with the nonsense and play with him.

Scot: Back home!

Sassenach: Play-time?

Scot: Going to run up the hill, Sassenach. Train to keep up with the lack of swimming ☹️

Jamie with Bran again, the human feigning sleep, while the dog slept on his lap.

Scot: DEAD

Sassenach: Oh what a pity! You’re not coming back, then?

Scot: YOU WISH

Sassenach: In fact I’m not.

Scot: Can’t wait to kiss you again. To lick you, to touch you.

Sassenach: OMG CAN YOU STOP IT?

Scot: I’ve big plans for you when I get back. 😏

Sassenach: Have you now?

Scot: Wait and you’ll see. What are you doing?

Sassenach: Studying! Won’t YOU study??

Scot: Ffs

Jamie in his room, my notes and the book in front of him.

Scot: Not the same without you.

Sassenach: I know…

We’d study together then, usually until our eyes hurt and our yawns took the better of us. The last picture he always sent me was of him looking just as sleepy as the first picture of the day.

Jamie’s face covering the whole screen, sending me a goodnight kiss.

Jamie, Jamie, Jamie. He was everywhere, and yet I missed him insufferably much.

Apart from texting with Jamie - that took more time than one could imagine - my spring break was quiet, and I finally found time to catch up with Joe. It was unbelievable how the two of us were perfectly synchronized in finding love. And we both fell face first into that buzzing feeling that took hold of all our senses.

Two days before going back to school, Joe and I finally arranged to meet. We had so much to tell and texts seemed insufficient. I sent my morning selfie to Jamie, teasing him about staying at home to study while I went out. A series of angry emojis arrived seconds after my message was seen. After a bunch of hearts of all colours from me, he suggested we go to his favorite bakehouse, and I texted Joe with the address.

Sassenach: Are you sure you don’t want to be the one who’ll take me there for the first time?

Scot: Nah, Sassenach. It’s okay. If you like it we can go as many times as we want.

Scot: Try the cherry and almond tart!

I was getting dressed and didn’t reply. When I checked my phone again, I had two new messages.

Scot: Try the tart. Seriously.

Scot: It’s the beeeest. My fav.

Smiling, I texted back.

Sassenach: Okay! I’ll order your tart!

One hour later, I was sitting at a small cute table in the corner of the shop, a big piece of the cherry and almond tart in front of me, next to my cup of chai. I had three major subjects to discuss with Joe, and we jumped from one to the other several times every minute.

Jamie. Gail. Our exams.

I knew he was madly in love with Gail – actually the whole school knew, one glance at the two of them and everyone could see it – and my heart swelled when I heard him talking about her, his voice low and mellow, her name bringing a soft curve to his lips and a sparkle in his eyes. He got dreamy when he told me how they were spending their days, how they loved the same things, how her left cheek had this infinitesimally small dimple when she laughed. We talked about her family and her ideas, the way she saw the world – which had clearly affected Joe. Long gone was his cynical side, his absolute beliefs. He was softer somehow, his edges smoother.

“I certainly need to get to know her better! She sounds so awesome, Joe!”

“She is,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“We’re lucky, aren’t we?” I asked, beaming. “Who would imagine that Scotland would be this good. I got to meet the most amazing people - you included,” I smirked, and Joe smiled back.

“I know, LJ. Pretty awesome, ain’t it?” He then took on one of his teasing looks, and I knew I was in trouble. “Amazing people… Who would have guessed,” he said and I raised an eyebrow. “If I remember correctly, I have a text here… somewhere...” he unlocked his phone, pretending to search for the text. “Saying ‘Jamie Fraser can go fuck himself’ or something along these lines?”

I scoffed and narrowed my eyes at him.

“And here we are now,” he continued, “With you unable to stop babbling about your dashing Highlander.”

“Well,” I shrugged. “He turned out to be a bit better than I thought.”

“A bit,” Joe smirked. “So did he fuck himself? Or did you help him with it?”

I burst out in laughter, feeling my cheeks burn crimson.

“Oh I see,” Joe said, winking at me.

The bastard.

After the enormous amount of time it took me to catch my breath, I decided the best I could do was to change the subject. “So,” I said. “Universities. Where will you apply? Do you still plan on going back to the US?”

“Hell yes! Scotland is great, lass,” he said winking at me – again –, “But we’re definitely going to the US, bae!”

“Where?” I asked smiling at the thought of studying in the US.

“New. York. City.” Joe said with a smug grin. “At least we hope so,” he added, sobering up a bit.

“That’s so cool! School of Medicine and…?” I trailed off, not knowing Gail’s goals.

“Silver School of Social Work, for Gail. She’ll be great, she’s made for it.” Joe took a big bite of his chocolate brownie. “And you?”

“Oxford University, both of us.” I said, proud of our choice. “I’ll miss you so much,” I added with a pout. “But it’s going to be so good, Joe!” Joe’s smile became broader, just a second before I heard an all too familiar voice, low and deep, coming from behind my ear.

“Oh yes. It’s going to be amazing, Joe.” I could hear the grin in his voice, but I couldn’t turn, my eyes wide looking at Joe. “Hello, babe,” Jamie said, and I felt his lips warm on the tender skin of my neck. He lingered a bit, breathing me in, and then moved away, making me long for more.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice high pitched with excitement.

“I told you I missed you,” Jamie answered, plopping himself down on the chair next to me.

I shook my head, taking his face in my hands. “You’re incredible.”

Jamie smiled and kissed me, and I lost myself in the sweet taste of his lips – or was that the dessert on my lips – and the heat that rose in my body - an effect Jamie always had on me when so close.

“Ahem.” Joe pretended to clear his throat before he laughed. We broke the kiss, smiling sheepishly.

“My cherry tart!” Jamie said, licking his lips as he reached for my fork. The last bite was still on my plate.

“So, what do you think you’re doing?” I asked, trying to hide the smile I felt springing up on my face.

“Eating my order?” He smiled smugly and I realized the reason he insisted on me ordering his favorite dessert. “At least ye left me a bite!”

“You fool,” I said, pinching his ribs.

Jamie swallowed and kissed me once more. His hand trailed up my thigh until it found mine on my lap and our fingers intertwined, finally in the right place. He told us that had taken the morning train from Inverness and came back – alone. His coach had called, asking him if he could at least be there for Sunday training and after the exemplary behavior he’d shown during the break, his dad allowed him to go. Ian and Jenny would return the next day. My mind ran so fast, thinking of the possibilities over and over.

Was Murtagh at home?

We left the bakehouse almost half an hour later, parting ways with Joe who was headed to meet Gail at the library.

“Finally,” Jamie breathed in my ear.

I shot him a knowing glance but he spoke before I could say anything.

“Dinna get me wrong, Sassenach, Joe is a verra fine lad and all, but I haven't seen ye in twelve days and tis making me crazy.”

“Crazy?” I asked. “Crazy, how?”

I found myself pushed into a close, my back flush on the rough stone, my lip taken hostage by Jamie's teeth.

“Crazy,” he said and our tongues collided, thirsty for each other. “Like,” He bit me lightly and his hand snuck under my coat, then under my sweater, until it was resting on my bare skin. Goosebumps rose in his fingers’ wake, and I didn’t know if they were from his cold hand or the heat of being touched. “That,” he concluded, one hand cupping my breast and the other my butt. Searching for connection, as much connection as possible. It was a need, a reaction necessary for survival and we couldn't but surrender to it.

“Oh God, Jamie.” His mouth left mine and he licked a trail down my neck, making me shiver.

“I want you,” he sighed. “I need you. I need to get my hands on you, on all of you, and feel your skin burn under my fingers and feel your breath come faster in my mouth. Ye wear,” he said, squeezing my butt, “too many bloody clothes, Sassenach.”

I moaned and laughed, and I opened my eyes, realizing where we were. People were passing by the close. Just a slight turn of their heads and they would see us. Burning.

“Jamie,” I stopped him, regretting it the moment I did it. “People are passing by right next to us.”

He opened his eyes and looked around, as if taking the place in for the first time. He took his hands off me with great difficulty, leaning his forehead against mine. “Ye’ll be the death of me,” he whispered, a small lopsided smile on his face. He breathed twice; full, deep breaths. “Claire,” he said then, his thumb running on my cheek, and he moved a strong arm to envelope me in his warmth. My body responded immediately, my hand coming to rest over his heart, feeling it pounding. “My training is tomorrow and Murtagh is in Glasgow. He will be there for at least four more hours. Come home with me.”

I felt my body melting into his, flesh igniting, our hearts beating to a rhythm that was ours alone. I nodded and kissed his soft smile; a kiss that tasted like almond, cherries, and happiness. Jamie took my hand and led me back to the main street, and I wondered if I could walk all the way to his house, my breath already coming short and shallow. Burning with love.

Chapter 37

#thermodynamics #The first law of thermodynamics #high school AU #jamie x claire #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction

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inknerd · 5 years

Text

May Wrap-Up 2019

I’ve had so much to do this month; reading wasn’t really my first priority^^ Still, the last week I took the time to catch up to reading, and I read a lot of books I’ve wanted to read for awhile, and I feel like I’ve read a variety of books from ya to poetry to nonfiction, so that’s fun!

POETER TÄNDER BARA LAMPOR by EMILY DICKINSON (translation by ANN-MARIE VINDE) ★★★☆☆

| 130 pages | 3 weeks to read | Published 2017

So this is a collection of some of Dickinson’s poetry, who I haven’t read anything of so this was fairly exciting! It had both the English version and the Swedish translation together with notes from the translator, and so it took me awhile to read... + The more I read the more I liked it? I’m very happy the Swedish translation was available, because sometimes I just didn’t get what Dickinson was writing until I read it in Swedish and then reread the English one again. - With that said, I don’t think I will read any more of Dickinson soon. It was good but not really my kind of poetry.

DISORDER IN COURT: GREAT FRACTURED MOMENTS IN COURTROOM HISTORY by CHARLES M. SEVILLA ★★☆☆☆ | 256 pages | 1 day to read | Published 1992

You might have seen the funny tumblr post about this one. I did, was intruiged but waited to buy it until my friend told me she planned to study law. I saw the opportunity, bought it, read it, and then gifted it to my friend. + So some of these stories were hilarious, and it just shows how silly humans are even in serious situations like being in court for a crime. - Unfortunately, I didn’t find it as funny as I thought I would? Some things flew over my head because lawyer lingo/a bit more complicated English, sometimes it took some time before I got the joke and then it’s not as funny, y’know? Also, some of the jokes were quite dated.

A VERY LARGE EXPANSE OF SEA by TAHEREH MAFI ★★★★★ | 310 pages | 1 day to read | Published 2018

So I was excited for this one, and then people seemed to have mixed opinions on it (not disliking it, just not loving it as much as they’d expected to) so I waited until it came to my local library and then finally started reading it. And I LOVED IT! + PEAK ROMANCE! The main relationship is so cute and heart-wrenching, I wasn’t annoyed at Shirin’s family which is usually the case for me with more contemporary/romance-styled novels. This book had an important story to tell and it succeded in my opinion. - Idk, can’t come up with something totally obvious but I’d hoped for a more closed ending rather than the more open one I got.

CHILDREN OF BLOOD AND BONE by TOMI ADEYEMI ★★★☆☆ | 544 pages | +2 weeks to read | Published 2018

So I finally read this book! I’ve been sort of struggling with if I should give this three or four stars but in the end... *sweat drop emoji* I feel like I might have hyped this up a bit too much in my head. But in the end it was an enjoyable read and the reason it took my a while to read it was because I was busy, not necessarily that I found it boring. + i loved the worldbuilding, the magic system was interesting and it was explained in a way that didn’t feel forced. - The romance was...not overly good and the ending was...meh. And while the worldbuilding and so on made the story more spectacular the general plot was nothing special.

AVENGERS: DESTINY ARRIVES by LIZA PALMER ★★★☆☆ | 304 pages | 1 day to read | Published 2019

So this is basically Avengers: Infinity War in bookform, and I ordered because I wanted to read it before Endgame came out. Sadly! It showed up on the day of the premiere and I just skimmed through it the first time. Now I read it more carefully and, yeah, it was basically what I expected. + So most of it was just like in the movie, but the artistic take Palmer did on the characters thoughts and emotions during the battle was very interesting to read! And the illustrations were very nice too! - I can’t confirm this without checking the movie (and I don’t have the time) but some small things I remember being slightly different. Just small things, but considering it’s a book of a movie I feel justified in being somewhat picky.

CAPTAIN MARVEL: HIGHER, FURTHER, FASTER by LIZA PALMER ★★★★☆ | 246 pages | 1 day to read | Published 2019

Bought this at the same time as Destiny Arrives, because the cover just looked so pretty and the premise looked cool! + This was a surprisingly refreshing read. Some of the things Palmer came up with herself in Infinity War really resonated with me, and here she has the chance to come up with things on her own without being restrained by a movie (this book happens way before the movie Captain Marvel). It felt like this book had some important things to say. - I wished this book stretched longer, if so only to touch more on the story of Carol becoming Captain Marvel - but at the same time I was fine with how the book ended.

THE PRINCESS SAVES HERSELF IN THIS ONE by AMANDA LOVELACE ★★★★☆ | 156 pages | 1 day to read | Published 2016

This was a reread for me! I’ve worked with poetry together with my students this past month and I was motivated to read this again after seeing that the third collection in this series came out not too long ago. I reread this mainly because I wanted to see if my feelings on it had changed, and was pleased to see that they hadn’t! It’s still an interesting read.

I plan to reread the second one as well before I buy the third one!

THE TRAVELLING CAT CHRONICLES by HIRO ARIKAWA ★★★★☆ | 256 pages | 5 days to read | Published 2012

+ This is one of those books were you know what will happen, yet it still carries enough emotional impact that you cry when it ends. Reading from a cat’s perspective was very interesting and overall, this was such a nice read!

KVINNOR I KAMP: 150 ÅRS KAMP FÖR FRIHET, JÄMLIKHET OCH SYSTERSKAP by MARTA BREEN & JENNY JORDAHL ★★★★☆ | 119 pages | 1 day to read | Published 2018

This is a graphic novel depicting some of the history of the women’s rights movement. + The art was nice and they choose to include not only stories from Sweden and the west but also other parts of the world, which was great.

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE ★★★☆☆ | 175 pages | 1 day to read | Published 2011/1598

My reading of Shakespeare’s plays continue! I remember watching the movie from ‘93 with Emma Thompson and Kenneth Branagh in class and really liking it! So when it came to choose the next play this is one I really wanted to read. + Beatrice and Benedick is so funny and charming, this made me want to rewatch the movie! - Outside of Beatrice and Benedick it was a pretty classic, background Shakespearian story going on, that was interesting but not as much as forementioned.

CRAZY RICH ASIANS by KEVIN KWAN ★★★☆☆ | 467 pages | 1 day to read | Published 2013

Finally read this! I wanted to see the movie since I’d heard so many good things about it, but it turned out netflix didn’t have it... I might watch it some other time, though! + I really flew through this. The descriptions of the luxury all around the characters was so much fun to read and the story had so many colourful characters to cling to. I might continue on with this series! - Despite getting through this very quickly, there were definitely parts full of information that I wasn’t interested in reading. I also expected this to be way funnier than it was. For some reason I was under the impression this was a sort of romance-comedy but while some things were funny (or, absurd?) it didn’t really meet my expectations. Some things about the romance parts didn’t click with me, either.

THE POET X by ELIZABETH ACEVEDO ★★★★☆ | 361 pages | 1 day to read | Published 2018

+ I liked that it was written in verse and I liked the story in itself... I don’t know what more to say.

TIGER LILY by JODI LYNN ANDERSON ★★☆☆☆ | 292 pages | 2 days to read | Published 2012

I’d heard shifting opinions on this one, but decided the premise sounded too interesting to not give a chance. I liked this book well enough, by the end, but it was far from a new favourite. + and - The reasons I liked it was also the reasons I disliked it. I liked some characterisations or aspects of them, and disliked some of them. I found the mix between Neverland and the real world somewhat confusing and wished the author would’ve either sticked more the original story or less, if that makes any sense. As far as Peter Pan-retellings go, I think this was interesting, still.

VIPER by BEX HOGAN ★★☆☆☆ | 400 pages | 2 days to read | Published 2019

This was is a brand new ya fantasy trilogy that I probably won’t continue reading... + While the first half of the book was pretty boring and predictable the second half was way better. I liked the main character the best in the middle of the book, same with the romance. - As mentioned, the start of the book was pretty lackluster. The main character seemed pretty meek considering the circumstances, the romance was bleh and the plot unoriginal. This book had several things that I’ve seen before over and over again and it didn’t work too hard on making them seem different than normal. Overall this story lacked any real depth.

#books #julia reads #reading wrap-up #reading wrap-up: may 2019 #book recommendations #book recs #book reviews #ya #booklr #my post

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phantomarchive · 5 years

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A couple years ago, I wrote a starter for a friend who RPed as Nate, and now I’m posting it here. It also functions as just a piece of (hella long) writing, but ultimately takes place during UC4 under the assumption that Elena doesn’t go back for Nate, but is still concerned about him, so Sully gets in touch with Chloe to see if she’ll go find him and make sure his dumbass is safe. We’d had a whole plot planned, but alas.

Anyway, writing under the cut!

Victor is damn lucky he catches Chloe when he does.

His call comes late in the afternoon, after she’s been passed out for hours after a too-long flight home. The job in Kagoshima was quick, nothing to get too excited over, in and out within four days and hardly even a scrape to her knuckles. Easy. She loves the job, though, regardless of how short it is, of how little danger there is, of minimal risk and moderate reward, but still it feels good to be back in a warm bed, in a temperature controlled apartment, with locks on the door and eight floors of residents below her to act as a buffer between her flat and anyone potentially trying to reach her. The thrill of the adventure can still, at times, be outweighed by the comforts of home. Of familiarity. Of the quiet hum of the air conditioner soothing her ears after days of near perpetual gunfire when things go bad (and so often do they go bad; it’s almost not enjoyable if they don’t, to a degree).

She can’t sleep on flights, though, never could, and when she finally landed back in Key West after three layovers and too many in-flight movies, her eyes too heavy to even read her notes anymore, she managed to wrangle a taxi ride home, barely making it out of her jeans and onto her bed before sleep won and she slipped into a series of meaningless dreams for a solid eleven hours. It isn’t unusual for her to crash so hard after a job, but it’s the flight that really took it out of her this time. For the amount of trans-oceanic flights she takes, she thinks she should be used to all of this by now, might know how to relax and shut down on a flight - and yet here she is, pushing her mid-thirties, more than half her life spent in the business, and still unable to to do more on a plane than close her eyes and slow her breathing and try to imagine the thrum of the engine is her air conditioner at home, but to no avail. Frustrating, but it’s why she plans a few extra hours on either side of her trips for the red-eyes and long flights.

She hadn’t planned anything after this job. Maybe a couple weeks off to let her aches recover, to start working on selling some relics from recent jobs, maybe start poking around for her next one. So when she’s woken up by her cell phone vibrating near violently beside her pillow, Victor’s name illuminated through the spiderweb of cracks in the screen, she knows it’s one of two things: an invite to drinks, or something with Nate. Both of which end up being time consuming, and he’s lucky he caught her now.

Her mouth is thick with sleep, and she has to clear her throat a few times before she can clear the hoarseness from her voice, but even then she still sounds tired.

“Victor?” She tries to sound alert, or at least more so than she actually is, pushes herself onto her elbows to clear her head, blinking sleep from her eyes. But it isn’t anything she does that has her mind snapping to attention and her heart pounding so hard it might break through her ribcage. It’s what he tells her. It’s Nate, because of course it is. It’s been a long time since this brand of call has come through to her, but she can’t say she hasn’t been expecting something like it eventually.

She can still remember the last time she’d visited the Drake household, the look on his face when she mentioned where she was headed next - Uruguay, at the time, to look into the credibility of La Luz Mala. The way his eyes widened slightly, brightened, and she could damn near see the wheels turning in his head as he already tried to figure it all out, where he’d start, what clues would fit, historical facts and tidbits they had once spent countless days and nights poring over together - and how those wheels slid to a sharp stop when he forced himself to change the subject. He can’t follow that train of thought. He has a wife and a house and a relatively normal job. He’s left the life of fortune hunting behind in favor of the normalcy he didn’t get growing up. It broke her heart to see the light dim when he moved on to other topics and pushed a smile into place. He’s happy, but he’s also not, and the lure of adventure is a tempting mistress they’ve both spent their lives giving in to the siren song of.

He resisted, but she knows how goddamn easy it is to go back.

“You mean…even more stupid than usual?” A pause as she listens, and she forces herself into a sitting position, dragging her hand over her eyes, down her face, back through her hair. She tries to play it off like a minor annoyance, but the truth is, she knows the recklessness that can come with spending time away, and she’s terrified for him. Keeping herself under control is easy, even in the vulnerability of the aftermath of sleep, but she feels the rising panic make her chest ache. Her only audible sign of it is the sigh she gives, heavier than she’d intended and carrying more worry than she could put words to.

“Of course, Victor,” she says, pulling a pen and whatever scrap of paper she has towards her to take down the notes. Coordinates, last known location, where he’s headed, the destination itself - Avery’s treasure? She damn near scoffs into the phone. Son of a bitch went looking for it without her. Another sigh. “Yeah, I’ll go drag both Drake asses home.” The phone balances between her cheek and shoulder, tongue pressing against the flats of her teeth as she scribbles notes to herself. She falls silent for long seconds, rereading everything, ensuring she has it all before speaking again.

“I’ll leave as soon as I can catch a flight out.” Another short pause. “Love you, too, Victor.” She pauses, then lets the phone drop to the bed, hearing the audible beep of the call disconnecting.

And then she lets herself feel everything she tried not to on the call.

Fingers tremble only slightly as she books the flight, paying extra to land in a small, out of the way airport that’s closer to the island Nate’s headed to, and good god, what has he gotten himself into? She knows Sam’s at fault here, no one else it could be, but that’s a strange recent history of prison visits and delivering rare books on pirating to him behind the corrupt backs of bribed guards (and learning about him was something else entirely, a series of six-degrees-of-separation connections that led her to him, and fucking hell, Nate, a brother?). She’d thought Sam was just bored, but apparently he’d been serious about the lost treasure. She should’ve been more suspicious of the calls he made to her in the middle of the night, his attempt at casual still sounding panicked, but she’s had a little too much on her own plate to worry much about his.

And now it involves Nate. (And Avery’s lost treasure, christ. She’ll find time to be more annoyed about that later.)

It takes less than hour for her to pack a spare change of clothes and basic toiletries into a travel bag and get to the airport. Waiting for the flight only adds to the stress itching her skin, and it’s sheer willpower that keeps her from pacing in the terminal until it’s time to board. She sits instead in a chair at the end of a row of chairs, fingers pulling at a loose thread in the hem of her shirt while she holds a compilation of what notes she has about Avery in her other hand. Brushing up on her knowledge of the man barely holds her attention, her eyes steadfastly focused on the pages though her mind is far from rapt, focused instead on Nate and what the hell he’s doing. It’s been a good while since she’s seen him, and she’ll be damned if the next time she sees him is dead, not unless it’s both of them dead together. (A stupid promise made five beers deep in the middle of the night when humidity wasn’t the only thing keeping them warm. A stupid promise, but a promise anyway, right?)

At this point, it’s become routine to suppress her feelings, move on and not acknowledge them anymore. Years of pretend and fake smiles until it was too much to bear and avoidance became her best ally, and even that gave way to caving in and seeing the entire crew again. They’re her friends, dammit, and she can’t lay claim to many of those. So she pushes it aside. A semblance of ‘moving on’ she’s never quite reached. And it’s things like this that bring it all back to the surface. Chloe doesn’t get these calls when it’s a simple fix, or when Nate is in just a spot of trouble. She gets these calls when it’s gotten bad, and even if getting bad is fun, there’s a line that even she doesn’t want crossed, and she can’t help but feel that this is one of those lines Nate’s leapt across with both feet.

Her hand abandons the loose thread and instead her thumbnail fits between her teeth, brows pulled in, eyes not even comprehending the words on the page, and fucking hell, is the plane leaving yet?

It takes too long, too long, before the flight starts boarding, and she should’ve taken Victor up on his offer to fly her there, but she’s here now and waiting in line is frustrating, and she has to remind herself not to clench her teeth and to take deep breaths to stay calm. She has a several-hour-long flight ahead of her, and she’s really only thankful that she slept as much as she did beforehand. Not that she’d take any rest after she lands, not with everything that’s waiting at the other end of this all, but at least she won’t be dealing with tired eyes and the irritation that sets in when she’s awake for too long. Small mercies.

She finds some sort of solace in steady breathing and the knowledge that she’s on her way, she’ll be there to help him soon. He’ll be with her, where she can know he’s safe. It’s a small comfort, but it allows her mind to settle as she finally gets to her seat and waits for the plane to take off.

———-

If nothing else, on landing, she’s learned more about Henry Avery and his connections than she knew going into all of this. Her resources were limited on the plane, but she’d packed her phone with anything she could download on the taxi ride to the airport, and even the unreliable sources had some entertainment value, even if they were incredibly inaccurate. Part of her would eventually find it suitable to be annoyed that he’d figured so much out already, that the connections were made without her, but that can wait. A storm is brewing and the little plane she switches to is barely fighting against the growing winds. He gets her as close as possible, but the landing isn’t as soft as she’d like, and somehow she thinks it’s drier in the ocean she landed in than in the rain insisting these islands join Atlantis.

“Dammit, Nate,” she sputters as she pulls herself ashore, barely, the water pulling at her boots and jackets as if reluctant to let go of her. The travel bag secured around her is waterproof, but she’s sure everything inside will be drenched when she checks. Of all places, of all times, the storm hits now.

“You better be alive.” He has to be. He’s survived a hell of a lot of shit until now, there’s no chance a mountain and a storm could take him from her. (From them, she corrects herself.) It’s a promise she repeats to herself as she starts the trek through wet grass and mud until she has to start climbing. The rocks are slick, and he’s definitely alive. Her hand slips a few times and she has to take it slowly, carefully, and he has to be alive.

The path isn’t easy to see, but she knows his style well enough to feel confident in the path she’s taking. They make sense, even when the ledges are small. Nathan Drake may not always take the easiest routes, but he takes the ones that make sense, and she can see the handholds he would take as if he were pointing them out to her himself. It’s a slow process and the storm refuses to let up. In fact, she’s positive it’s gotten worse, though how to tell through sheets of rain so thick she can barely see her outstretched hand, she isn’t sure. It doesn’t show signs of letting up, though, and it drives her to move just a touch faster. Careful. But faster.

How long has he been here? Has he been wandering through the storm at the same time as she has? How much of a head start has he had? Is Sam impatiently trying to make him go faster, or are they taking it slow together? Concern buries itself in her mind, and she presses on. Mud and rain and battered knuckles and bruised knees, and it’d be like old times if Nate was here with her and they eventually took refuge from the storm in one of these small caves, bandaging up wounds as best they could while resting weary limbs.

He’d better be alive, dammit.

She loses sense of time as she moves determinedly forward, one hand in front of the other, boots securely in place before shifting weight. Her arms and stomach ache, legs are exhausted, and it’s been a while since she’s gone long enough to wear her down like this. Nothing could have prepared her for this, and for long moments, she clings to her handholds, fingers numb and bruised, legs shaking, and she clenches her teeth to keep herself strong. She’s so tired, though. Surely Nate would’ve called things to a halt soon, right? Had she missed him? The wall ahead looks broken, and she’s eyeing for a path across - and she sees him. Below. Unconscious and on his back, and that’s a hell of a ways to fall. The panic she’d manage to suppress earlier rises in her chest again, heart hammering and hands trembling, and she lowers herself as carefully as she can to where he is.

“I swear to god, Nate, if you’re dead…” She leaves the threat open-ended, fights back the stinging in her eyes, and has to drop the last six feet down to get to him, the bend in her knees making the fall easier, but there’s no waste of time in rushing to his side. One hand above his mouth, the other pressing two fingers against his neck and pausing, waiting, feeling for any sign of life-

And there, a slow heartbeat, strong beneath her fingertips. He’s alive, he’s alright, and she lets out a laugh, leaning her forehead against his chest as relief sweeps through her. “Bloody hell, you asshole,” she breathes, taking only a few moments to gather herself. He’s alive, but he’s also freezing and in direct path of the rain. He isn’t a light man, years of muscle compounded on that frame of his, but she hooks her arms beneath his, lifts, and drags him into a dry section of the cave, beneath an overhang. No way to make a fire, but that’s why she wore the bigger jacket over her own. It’s wet, but he’ll warm it up. She drapes it over him and sits close, pulling her arms into her own jacket and tucking the sleeves into the pockets to keep cold air from getting in, and she settles in for however long it takes for him to wake up.

“Remember that time in Colombia?” she asks softly, her voice barely carrying over the rain. Not that he can hear her anyway, but that isn’t the point. Maybe the point is to keep herself calm while he rests, to keep the concern from working its way deeper in case he doesn’t wake up. “It didn’t rain this much, but it sure could give this place a run for its money.” A pause and a sigh, and she tucks her mouth and nose into the neck of the jacket.

They’d taken refuge in a cave there, too. Ground level, entry hidden by plants, rain so thick they probably wouldn’t have needed the plants to keep them out of sight of the small group of mercs hunting them. It’d been dark tucked in the back corner of the little cave, the sky almost as dark outside. They’d sat side by side, legs and arms touching, heads leaned against each other. The sound of her breathing a steady rhythm to the quiet story he told her. The warm press of his lips to her temple, to the the curve of her cheekbone, to the smile that so easily crossed her face when she was with him. It’d been different then, the feel of his hand in the curve of her waist familiar and comfortable, and did it still feel the same now?

Stupid, Chloe, she thinks with a deep sigh. She tucks her face a little deeper into her jacket, but keeps her eyes on him. “Don’t die on me,” she demands of him, determines she’ll be pissed if he does.

———-

The rain eventually stops its attempt at flooding the entire island, and she puts her arms back through her sleeves and stands, stretching the stiffness from her legs and walking around a bit. The sky is starting to clear up, still not visible, but also not deep grey, either, and she squints slightly as she looks up at the sky through the hole Nate fell into. Where the hell is Sam? In her worry for Nate, she forgot that Sam was supposed to be with him. Had he left him behind? Chloe barely knows the man, isn’t sure what kind of person he is. Would he abandon his brother in the middle of a storm in search of Avery’s gold? Chloe could have her moments of abrasiveness, but to be that cruel? If that’s the case, Sam had better hope Chloe doesn’t catch up with him, or there’ll be a different sort of hell to pay.

She’s starting to muse over how serious she is on that threat, when she hears movement behind her. Turning, she watches as Nate slowly pushes himself up, grunting through the aches from the fall, waiting for his eyes to land on her. Gives him a friendly smirk when they finally do. “Morning, love,” she says as she moves the six steps it takes to get to him, and now that she knows he’s alive, that he wasn’t injured so badly he wouldn’t make it out of this cave, she can’t help but to let her mild bit of annoyance at what he was even doing here in the first place seep in.

“You know, if you wanted to get yourself killed while looking for Henry Avery’s lost treasure, you could have at least called me beforehand.”

#(we'd also plotted that chloe met sam while sam was in prison. during the time between uc3 and 4)#(sam wanted to get some reading material on avery and he knew a guy who knew a guy-)#(who knew a guy who knew chloe and she became sort of a contact with him)#(later learning who he is and being like ???? a brother??????)#(but anyway here's this longass piece of writing that i still absolutely love)#long post #〘 Treasure hunts make better stories when there’s treasure at the end 【Ｃｈｌｏｅ　Ｆｒａｚｅｒ】 Muse 〙#〘 Treasure hunts make better stories when there’s treasure at the end 【Ｃｈｌｏｅ　Ｆｒａｚｅｒ】 Writings 〙

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