#I wish someone would invite me to a fancy event and supply me with a really good suit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoodwinkd1 · 3 years

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the stars that shine Ch 2

Ch 1 here.

Chapter 2: woke up to find that summer gone

Evangeline sat at the dark cherry desk in her bedroom, staring down at the piece of parchment which seemed to be staring right back at her. She had picked up a pen almost half an hour ago and had successfully written one line.

Dear Lys,

“Damn this!” Tossing the pen to the side, she stood and began pacing around the bed. Normally, her letters back to Caraverre were pages and pages of stories, filled with every minute detail and every silly joke that Lysandra and Aedion might enjoy. Tonight, she could barely get her thoughts in order enough to discuss what she’d eaten for dinner two hours ago.

Evangeline knew exactly who to blame for this conundrum. Hollin Havilliard.

Her first two weeks in Rifthold were amazing. Ever the social butterfly and lacking peer friendships back in Terrasen, Evangeline absolutely loved getting to know the other students in her lessons.

“You should come shopping with us next week,” Regina suggested, her smile genuine. As the third eldest daughter of the Callot family, the largest noble support of Adarlan’s fashion industry, Regina would certainly have good taste. “Anya and I are looking for springtime outfits.”

The other girl had jumped in then. “How long will you be staying? My parents always plan a trip to the country house right after the Spring Solstice and I can bring a few friends.”

So yes, Evangeline had no problem making friends. She was downright delightful and ready to try anything, go on any adventure.

Her lessons were equally wonderful. Part of the reason she came to Rifthold was to expand her education, filling in gaps that Darrow had no expertise in, and she enjoyed the challenge immensely.

Point being, she should have plenty to write home about. The shopping trip, the mathematics concept she finally mastered, even the amazing duck stew she tried two nights ago.

Unfortunately, the fond memory of her duck stew faded when she remembered what had immediately followed.

Dear Lys,

I had the most awkward night of my life. I’m relatively confident I’ve made my first enemy and I may never go back to the ballet after this traumatizing experience.

No, she couldn’t possibly send that. Aedion would charge into the palace and demand revenge at the mere thought of anyone disliking Evangeline, if he didn’t laugh himself to death trying to imagine the concept first.

Her popularity aside, she was still in disbelief. Hollin had approached her first, offering to escort her to the royal box at the Rifthold Theater for a travelling dance troupe that evening. Evangeline accepted (delightfully and more than ready for an adventure). She even dug through her closet for the stunning cerulean gown Aelin had gifted for her fourteenth birthday.

And then the prince proceeded to ignore her. All night.

“Who goes two entire hours without speaking one word?” Evangeline grumbled, moving towards her closet to grab a nightgown. The letter could wait until tomorrow. “Why bother inviting me in the first place?”

Whatever. She would be just fine with her new friends, who’s families also owned boxes at the theater.

----

“It’s been two days.” Dorian dropped into the chair next to Hollin. “Two whole days, and I haven’t heard a word from either of you. Quite rude, if you ask me, considering it was my idea to take her to the ballet.”

Hollin kept his eyes on the book in front of him. “Some people think it’s rude to speak in a library. And yet, here we are.”

The king sighed, as if his little brother’s social life was as draining as running a nation. “At least tell me if you enjoyed yourself. Or if you think Eva enjoyed herself.”

“The dancers were talented.” Hollin turned a page. “I can’t speak for someone else’s opinion.”

Dorian huffed. “I meant, did you enjoy spending time with her?”

Hollin shut the book with a bit more force than needed. “Do you have nothing better to do than force me to go on dates with your friends’ wards? I’m working on something here.”

“It wasn’t meant to be a date!” Dorian protested. “Just...Evangeline is so delightful. And friendly. I thought she could, you know, be a friend?” His words trailed off at the end.

He heard the unspoken words. Hollin was not delightful and not friendly. Dorian probably hoped this picture-perfect girl could change him, mold him into a better prince.

“She has friends. And I have work to do.” He looked pointedly at the book strewn across his lap.

Dorian, finally, took the hint. “Fine. Enjoy your suspicious research.” He stood up, fixing his tunic. “I expect to see you at the merchant’s council dinner tomorrow night.”

Hollin waved him off. “See you then.” He’d been searching for some excuse to get out of that event, some way to avoid all the grouchy, greedy men that tried to grab the king’s attention.

Maybe if he fell off a horse, he could avoid politics for a few days.

----

The two months passed quite quickly. Evangeline was expected home in time for Aedion’s birthday celebration, so she took the last day in Rifthold to search for a gift. He might grumble about her spending money on him, letting his annoyance over aging take over his usual good mood, but Eva knew he would secretly cherish something special.

Anya had offered to join her, commandeering her family’s carriage for the trip. The two of them, along with Regina, had become inseparable during Evangeline’s stay.

She had never had friendships that were entirely her own before, outside of her family’s vast and unyielding legacy. Spending the day shopping tasted like freedom and youth.

“Where are we heading first?” Anya asked, shifting her long skirt to make room for Evangeline to sit on the bench next to her. “What does one even buy for the most infamous General in the world?”

So maybe she never could fully escape that legacy. Evangeline chose to ignore the honorific. “Aedion? He can be quite the sentimental type. I was imagining some sort of calendar he could use; one that I’d add drawings and photos and secret notes to. Something useful, but still personalized.”

“Oh, thank the Gods. I was terrified you would drag me to some boring weapons shop.” Anya fanned herself in mock horror. “Minsky’s has the best stationery.”

Once they arrived, Evangeline lost herself in the rows of parchment. She adored the smell of the shop, somewhere between a library and perfumery, thanks to the variety of candles that lined the walls.

She wandered for a while, enjoying the feel of books, journals, scrolls, and other trinkets underneath her fingertips. Anya struck up a conversation with Minsky, the elderly owner who apparently had very strong opinions about what time of day one should light lavender candles.

Evangeline stopped in front of the rack she’d been looking for, eyeing the different color choices. Each calendar looked sturdy and durable, perfect for Aedion’s regular travels, but only a few had carrier cases. She selected the emerald one, to match Lysandra’s eyes.

“Oh that’s lovely!” Anya beamed as Evangeline joined them at the counter. “Very practical.”

Minksy nodded solemnly as they checked the price. “Smart child, finding a way to stay organized.”

“It’s actually a gift,” Evangeline corrected. “Would you have any wrapping supplies?”

They pulled out a few choices of paper, and the girls left the shop with the package securely tucked under Evangeline’s arm.

Anya opened the door of the carriage to let her enter first. “Do we have any other errands - Gods!” Her question was cut off with a curse. “Galen, you scared the life out of me.”

Evangeline found herself face first with Anya’s older brother. He shot her an apologetic look.

“I spotted the carriage and didn’t fancy a walk back to the house,” he explained, musing at his dark locks with one hand. “Any change you two lovely ladies want to go out for lunch?”

“You are unbelievably annoying,” Anya sighed. She moved to sit next to him, glancing at Evangeline. “What do you think? One last meal before you go?”

Galen turned to face her as well. “Leaving so soon?”

Evangeline hadn’t had many interactions with the older boy. Galen had danced with her at one of their parents’ parties, and had teased her a couple times when she joined them for dinner. But all of a sudden, Evangeline found herself wishing for some more time in Rifthold for an entirely new reason.

“I have to return to Caraverre tomorrow,” she informed him. “It’s my....it’s Aedion’s birthday.” Explaining their relationship was difficult enough, and easily avoided since everyone knew exactly who he was.

“Pity,” Galen replied. “But that just means I have to treat you to the best sandwiches Rifthold has to offer before you go.”

Anya groaned. “He always drags us to this tiny little place, when there are plenty of nice restaurants around.”

“A tiny little place sounds perfect,” Evangeline reassured. The carriage jolted forward, carrying them away from the main streets.

An hour later, she wasn’t lying in the slightest when she praised her meal. The sandwiches were really quite good. And the twinkle in Galen’s eyes when she stole one of his chips was even better.

“Oh goodness,” Anya interrupted as they stepped outside into the twilight hour. “I left my pouch at the table. Be right back.” She strode back into the restaurant, leaving Galen and Evangeline alone by the doorway.

Galen leaned against the stone. “Do you have plans to return to Adarlan?”

“Not in the next half-year,” Evangeline admitted. Her thumb rubbed the edge of her pointer finger, a nervous tick despite her calm tone. Was there meaning behind his question? “I’m due to spend two months with one of my mentors in Arran after some time at home.”

“Pity.” He offered her a light smile. She prayed to the former Gods to keep her face from turning pink. “Next time you come around, I’ll have to move faster. Ask you on a date at the beginning of your stay, instead of the end.”

Evangeline couldn’t hold back a wide grin. “Yes, I suppose you will.”

---

Hollin threw himself onto his bed, head spinning a bit from the wine he snuck during dinner. Evangeline was leaving tomorrow, a fact that wouldn’t affect his life much since Dorian had stopped forcing a friendship between them.

Maybe the wine was a mistake. The prince didn’t like alcohol much, knew he was far too young to start drinking, but insomnia had plagued him for weeks now. Hollin tried so many home remedies, from herbal teas to meditation, before attempting to drink himself to sleep that night.

It wasn’t working.

He still couldn’t force his mind to relax. Ideas for new experiments and inventions swirled around, mixed with memories of his most recent failures that stabbed him with self-doubt. Then came the childhood memories, the horror of being raised by the devil without noticing and the shame of past cruelties keeping him far from relaxation.

Hollin groaned into his pillow. He wanted someone to talk to. It was such a simple solution, one that most people would find easy. Dorian had even hired a specialist, a healer who worked with minds as well as bodies, for palace staff who needed help after a traumatizing war. Hollin had paced by their office more times than he could count, never entering.

Somehow, he fell asleep before sunrise. A sharp knock at the door yanked him out of restless dreams.

“Hollin?” He recognized Herina’s voice, one of his personal servants who was years past using formalities. Changing a baby's diaper gave one that privilege. “I have your schedule for the day.”

Hollin stood up, blindly feeling for the robe hanging next to his dresser. “Come in, thank you.”

She pushed the door open, pulling a cart of food behind her. “I didn’t see you eat nearly enough at dinner last night, certainly not enough to be stealing drinks of wine like you did.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but shut it quickly. “I - thank you,” he said again, too tired to form a better sentence.

Herina left the cart by the entrance and walked further into the chamber. “You have a couple lessons scheduled, one before lunch and one in the evening. Light day.”

“Not too terrible.” Hollin took the parchment from her. “Herina..” He trailed off.

“Yes?”

“Could you - do you know how to add things to my schedule?” he asked.

She nodded. “Of course. What grabbed your interest?”

He pushed past his discomfort at the idea. If he didn’t sleep well after, that would be the end of it. “Training. Physical, that is. I’d like to learn how to fight.”

Herina eyed him warily, no doubt taking in the lanky and awkward features that haunted most fourteen year old boys. “You know the king would never expect you to fight. He knows that isn’t where your interests lie.”

“I know.” Gods, he was blushing now. “It’s for myself, just a new hobby.”

Thankfully she moved on. “Well, alright then. Don’t be late today.”

With a final meaningful look at the breakfast, she left. Hollin thought about ignoring the food and falling immediately back to sleep, but his stomach chose that moment to growl loudly. He would need the calories if he planned to actually follow through with his new training idea.

If getting knocked on his ass for two hours a day didn’t help him fall asleep, then nothing would,

#tog #throne of glass #fanfic #sjm #evangeline vuolo #hollin havilliard #dorian #dorian havilliard

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stilloutofmyvulcanmind · 4 years

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Insecurities

Prompt: A Plus Size Female Reader, who feels a bit insecure in their relationship because of their appearance

Fandom: Wonder Woman, DC

Relationships: Diana Prince x Gender Neutral!Reader

Characters: Diana Prince, Reader

Word Count: 2300

Warnings: Talk of negative body image, mentions of past bullying

It was drizzling outside. You could hear the patter of raindrops against the window from where you sat on the couch, flicking idly through TV channels. Usually, you didn’t find it that difficult to find something to occupy your time, but tonight you were restless, mind flicking from thing to thing, unable to stop thinking for longer than a couple of minutes.

Landing on a channel playing dumb infomercials, you glanced over to where your phone sat on the kitchen counter. You'd placed it there to avoid the pull to check it, but still, it called to you, saying that a brief scroll of the internet wouldn't hurt.

No. It was late enough that photos would've started to appear by now, and looking at them would just hurt you more.

You turned your attention back to the TV where a forcefully enthusiastic lady was trying to sell some fancy house ornament for way too much. Surprisingly, it was kind of tempting.

The clock in the corner of the screen turned to 8 pm. Fuck it was still early.

You wished you were with Diana.

You could've been with her. The fact that you weren't was only your fault. She'd invited you to the fancy do, an event designed to get some more high-class benefactors to invest in the Louvre. You’d declined the offer, stating you had work deadlines that needed to be met. It wasn’t a lie, there were deadlines, but they weren’t the reason you decided to skip. The whole affair was going to be big, with enough famous guests to warrant paparazzi showing up outside to catch a snap of them arriving. And the very thought of getting caught in all those flashes made you almost throw up.

By the time you realized what you were doing, your phone was in your hand and you were pulling up the photos that had come in so far. It wasn’t hard to find a site that had a whole slideshow of them. Several of the faces you knew through Diana, but most you had no knowledge of as you flicked through, taking in the expensive suits and glamorous dresses. And then there she was. Diana. She looked beautiful in the burgundy gown, hair pinned up with just a few strands free. One part of you wished you really were there, holding her hand as you smiled at the cameras. The other part of you was so very glad you were nowhere near the event.

An alert popped up at the top of the page, informing you of new updates from the party. A quick refresh and new photos popped up of what was going on inside. There were a bunch of publicity shots of different individuals smiling together and pretending to be the best of friends. You knew some well enough to know better. Most were boring, but then Diana appeared again. Standing next to Bruce Wayne himself. She’d told you he was coming, his appearance and support more than enough to easily secure investments from several others. You liked him well enough on the couple of occasions you’d met. A little broody when the public persona slipped, but you knew he valued Diana’s friendship and thoughts, and if Diana was happy he was there, you were happy too.

But that didn’t mean you could shake the thought of just how damned good they looked together. They both exuded a natural elegance and charisma that could win over anyone and looking at them standing next to each other, it was impossible not to think just how gorgeous they were. They’d be the ultimate power couple if they were to get together. Unstoppable, really.

You shook your head, all but tossing your phone away as you stalked over to the window. They were stupid thoughts. Diana didn’t want Bruce or anyone else. She wanted you. She loved you. She told you so every day. But you just couldn't shake the feeling that she could do so much better. She deserved someone of her caliber. Someone just as attractive and...and thin, your mind supplied.

All the things you weren't.

You stayed by the window, watching the droplets of rain hit the pane of glass and slide down into nothing. The perfect setting for your continued dwelling. You knew you shouldn't have looked at your phone. Knew full well the pictures would just play into every insecurity you had. You could text Diana, ask to meet after the party, tell her how you were feeling. She had some natural ability of always making you feel better no matter what was wrong. But this wasn't her issue to deal with either. She hadn't done anything to make you feel like this, it was all on you, and it seemed unfair to drag her into it.

It was probably for the best to keep it yourself.

Arms slipped around your waist from behind, startling you out of your dwelling with a fright. The fear didn’t last though when you felt soft lips kiss just below your ear, and you caught the familiar scent of the perfume Diana always wore.

“I’m sorry I frightened you,” she whispered, thumbs rubbing small circles on you over the jumper you wore. “It wasn’t my intention.”

“My fault. Was too busy daydreaming again.” You leaned back into the embrace slightly, knowing that Diana could support all of your weight and so just a little now wouldn’t be an issue. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

“I tried calling you but there was no answer so I came to see if you were okay.”

An internal cringe shot its way through your body at that. You must’ve missed it ringing from wherever it had landed earlier, too busy feeling sorry for yourself, and now you’d made Diana worry about you. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to spoil your night.”

Diana’s lips dropped down to your neck, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along the sensitive skin. You could feel her smile against you. “Don’t be, my love. It was a good excuse to leave.”

“That bad, huh?”

Diana hummed in response, coaxing you to turn around in her arms, “I missed you,” she said, before kissing your lips.

It was easy, getting lost Diana’s kisses. She’d learned early on what you liked, what drove you wild, what melted you into her embrace and took full advantage of that knowledge often. Like now, she was set on turning your legs to jelly, forcing you to wrap your arms around her in return just to stay steady. Not that she’d ever let you fall. You could feel the skin of her bare back under your fingertips, a little chilly from being exposed in the backless dress all night, but not too bad. You traced random patterns over it as you kissed, the way she liked it, and you were rewarded with a quiet little moan that sent sparks down your spine.

She was the first to break the kiss, smiling at you as she took your hands in hers. It was the first time you’d seen her in the flesh all night, and God, she looked even more breathtaking than in the pictures. “Shower with me,” she said, the subtle shift in tone making it perfectly clear what she was thinking. You followed her, helpless to do anything else. She was captivating when she had that teasing smile on her face, and it was near impossible to resist her.

But then you caught a glimpse of you both in the mirror, and all the thoughts that had been temporarily forgotten came crashing back. The thought of being naked with Diana right then…

You faltered in your step, and Diana must’ve seen the change in you because she stopped, smile slipping into a frown instead. "What's wrong?"

"I…" You didn't really know what to say. How to word what you were feeling or even if you should word it all. "I showered earlier. You should go ahead and I'll pour us some wine, yeah?"

Diana looked far from convinced, keeping her hold on you when you tried to tug free. "Y/N, has something happened?"

She looked so concerned. You hated making her feel like that, making her worry when the only thing wrong was you. "No, everything's fine, really. Don't worry about me," you said with a smile.

"I can see that's not true," Diana stepped closer, a hand coming up to rest at the back of your neck, fingers playing with the fine hairs there. "You can talk to me." She was so earnest, and you knew she wouldn't judge you, it was just so hard to open up.

"Di," you sighed, "it's dumb."

"If it's bothering you then it could never be dumb. Tell me." Before you knew it Diana was guiding you to the bedroom and sitting you both down on the bed.

How were you even going to start? It wasn't something you'd ever talked about, even before meeting Diana. "I…I don't know where it came from. I mean I do, but…it's been worse recently and I don't know why. It's not like anything has changed." Wow, was it even possible to be even vaguer in your rambling?

"What do you mean?"

You took a breath, trying to organize your thoughts. "Us. Or me more specifically. It's...recently I've been thinking about why the hell you're with me. You could be with anyone…and you chose me of all people."

You weren't looking at her, but you could hear the frown, the confusion in her voice. "Why would I not choose you?"

"Because you're you. You're beautiful."

"As are you."

"No. I'm not." You looked up at her at that. "I'm fat and flabby and have rolls and stretch marks. People like me don't get to be with people like you." There was no judgment in Diana's eyes when you met them for a brief moment, but she was still trying to understand. "All my life, I've been the person to get asked out as a joke or a bet or to embarrass a friend because that's the only thing the fat ones are for."

"You know what we have is no joke to me."

"I know. I do. And I've always known. I'm happier with you than I ever thought I could be. But after so many years of bullshit…"

"It's difficult to believe you're enough."

You nodded, grateful that she understood now. "Yeah. And when the person you're dating is brave and strong and beautiful and quite literally a goddess it's even tougher sometimes."

Diana reached out towards you, cupping your cheek. "How long have you felt like this?"

"It didn't really bother me at first. Crossed my mind, yeah, but I was having so much fun with you I decided to just go with it. And…I guess I wasn't expecting things to get serious or last all that long. But then you said you loved me and I fell hopelessly in love with you, and that's when they started creeping in...these insecurities."

She nodded, tucking her legs up on the bed so she could scoot in close to you, brushing away the tears you that you hadn't noticed start to fall. "Is this why you didn't want to come with me tonight?"

"Yeah. I saw some of the photos and I was right not too. You...you looked exquisite, and when you were standing next to Bruce, you looked so good together. And I just couldn't help but think how you should always have someone that good next to you at every event, or date, or walk down the street."

"I already do. You say these things about me but don't realize they're the same things I see when I look at you. You are beautiful, Y/N. The first time I saw you I thought you'd been created by the Gods themselves because they could not make anyone fairer. Every day you amaze me with your kindness and wit and goodness. I've been told that I inspire people to be their best selves, but they don't realize that you inspire me to be better. You are everything I could ever want, and I love you." If the words weren't enough to make you cry even harder, the look in her eyes would've been. The open honesty that said she meant every word, the adoration, and love that made your heart swell.

"Thank you," you whispered. With someone else you may have questioned it, but not with Diana, and while not all of your thoughts vanished, knowing how Diana saw you helped. "I love you too, Di. I never knew I could be so happy until I met you."

"Nor I before you." Diana moved you both so you were lying on the bed, no doubt rumpling and creasing the expensive dress, not that she seemed to mind, and pulled you to her until you were wrapped in each other's arms. "When you feel this way, tell me. I want to help you."

You nodded, leaning in for a kiss. "I will. I promise."

Diana smiled and the two of you fell quiet as you just enjoyed holding the other. It was nice, one of your favorite things about Diana was how tactile she was. She loved to touch and hold and show affection just as much as you did, and it was always relaxing.

After a few minutes, Diana pulled back slightly. "Bruce invited me to Gotham tonight. He's hosting an event for the museum. A small, private thing for him. Will you come with me?"

"You want me to?"

"Of course."

You bit your lip, thinking a moment. Just the thought made you nervous but with Diana next to you…You nodded and smiled, "I'd like that."

She returned the smile and kissed you, "Thank you."

You kissed her back, getting lost in the sensations of it to the point you almost missed Diana's hands, slipping under your jumper and running over your back. You broke the kiss and chuckled softly. "How about we take that shower now?"

"I could think of nothing better, my love."

Like what you read? Consider buying me a coffee! (I’ll love you forever)

Tagging: @lifeaccordingtojenna @amachnowski @highwayunicornroadtoluv

#Diana Prince x reader #wonder woman x reader #diana prince imagine #diana prince oneshot #wonder woman imagine #wonder woman oneshot #dc comcis #Diana Prince #Wonder Woman #DC #dceu imagine

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angryhausfrau-writes · 3 years

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I Travel Troubled Oceans: Chapter 10 - In Which Jack Hosts A Fashion Show

Jack is finally ready for his first runway show, after months of work and agonizing over every small detail and making sure he keeps up appearances as a flighty party boy with enough money that he doesn't need to have talent or ambition.

But he's honestly quite proud of how everything has turned out. He's tailored the runway fashions for the trendy, upscale gallery that's hosting the show, of course, so everything is very modern and very stark. There are a lot of geometric shapes, structured collars, plunging triangular necklines and sideslits, things like that. Lots of metallic black fabrics.

It's all very cyberpunk dystopia - but chic. Because the upper echelons of society will commodify and romanticize everything, including the surveillance state.

It does appear to be a successful strategy, however. Mary has been taking pictures of his work throughout the process. Pictures that are framed to hint, to tantalize, but not to actually reveal anything. And there's been significant hype building around the show. Some of the backstage photos from the runway rehearsal have even appeared in the society sections of various newspapers. Which nobody really reads anymore, but Jack's Instagram account has simultaneously blown up, so that's probably a better indication that he's on the right track with this designer nonsense.

And he's had no trouble filling seats at the show itself. Since it's all rich assholes in attendance, they'd never do anything so gauche as to charge admission, but there's an understanding that everyone who attends the event will provide a hefty (and tax deductible, after some creative accounting) donation to both the art gallery and Jack's little design company. And Kaylen has used her extensive network of snooty art acquaintances to make sure there are plenty of critics in the audience, which should help get his name out there in the fashion world so he can start broadening their field of influence.

So the last thing that remains to be done is to personally invite the Councilor to the show. Not only because Jack is trying to develop a deeper friendship with him (and thereby cement his influence over any and all planning decisions) but also because Max wants to form another sort of relationship with Councilor Featherstone. Ie. she wants one of her girls to start “dating” the esteemed Councilor and whispering sweet nothings about their competitors into his ear instead of pillow talk. Which is also why Jack's throwing an after party at his house where the invitees can mingle with the models, get to know them a little better.

Jack had initially been rather uncomfortable with this plan. Mostly because he doesn't like people in his house messing up his things. But also because this feels just slightly skeevy in a way he hasn't been before. He's a con and a killer and a dealer, but he's not a pimp.

But when he'd talked to the girls about this plan, they'd seemed surprised at his reservations. One girl - Jackie – had even asked if the Councilor was, quote, wicked and seemed disappointed when Jack told her he had the sexual charisma of a bowl of lukewarm oatmeal. And Jack supposes it's their job, so they know what they're getting themselves into.

So he finds himself at the office building downtown (a pricey piece of real estate if Jack's ever seen one) to personally extend the glossy black invitation to both fashion show and after party to Councilor Featherstone. Who apparently has not yet grasped e-vites as a concept. And anyway, it's the personal touch that leaves a lasting impression.

And Charles has elected to accompany Jack, for whatever reason. He seems familiar with desk security and the building layout at least. Which is, perhaps, suspicious. As are the wary glances Councilor Featherstone's second in command – a man who's doing much what Max wants them to do in terms of filtering exactly what proposals actually reach the Councilor's desk, although his criteria for acceptance is more in line with being rich and titled and not a dirty foreigner - keeps giving Charles through Featherstone's glass door.

Charles's self satisfied smirk is not particularly encouraging either.

But he'd rather have any potential adversaries cowed as apposed to actively antagonistic. And Counselor Featherstone is more than happy to receive an invitation to his good friend Jack's debut fashion show. With front row seats to ensure that he gets a good look at all the models as they parade past on the catwalk. And Max's second sitting next to him - because Featherstone doesn't seem like the sort to approach a woman of his own volition and they'll need some indication of who to throw at him later tonight.

Jack's stupid fashion show is giving Anne a bitch of a headache. He's running around backstage in a fucking tizzy, because someone's makeup isn't quite right or they're wearing the wrong style of jewelry or a dozen other fucking things. And Anne's supposed to be coordinating this mess – as if that's fucking possible.

At least she's good at glaring and rude hand gestures. That appears to be all that's required to get the DJs – some poor fucks Max has by the balls – to get their shit set up and now there's some pumping electronic shit going as all the rich fucks mingle and drink cocktails, waiting for the show to start.

Fortunately, Eme'd been the one to recommend the caterers and other than pointing towards the kitchen and telling them when the show starts, she hasn't had to deal with them. And Mary's running around taking pictures of all the models and dresses and shit but she spares Anne a quick smile whenever they cross paths. So it could be worse.

And then Anne's pressed into lining up all the models in order and cuing when they're supposed to go out, so she's too busy to hear Jack's little speech at the start of the show. But by the polite applause he gets, it's a pretty good one – always been silver tongued, Jack has, and that ain't changed any with this new venture.

And it turns out he's pretty good at the whole designer thing too, which had been a surprise. Anne doesn't think much of the outfits – completely impracticable and all ugly weird dresses - but all these posh idiots are eating this shit up, if you take into account the fact that rich people excitement is a lot less loud than normal people excitement. The after party is sure to loosen them up, at least.

Jack slumps against the wall, absolutely exhausted. The fashion show had gone well, with several of the critics and many of the various high society invitees coming up to congratulate him afterwards. He's the darling of the upper crust for a night.

And in order to cement that for the future, he's in the process of throwing the mother of all parties – champagne, blow, stupid finger foods with gold leaf on them. The sort of club music that keeps coked up partiers on the dancefloor all night. And it's all getting to be a bit much.

Anne and Mary have already disappeared upstairs to bed, and Jack dearly wishes he could join them. Or at least meander in their general direction – he doubts they want him in their bed. Particularly because they're probably not even attempting to sleep what with all the noise downstairs.

And Jack doesn't really feel like laying awake for hours in his empty bed while Anne and Mary fuck down the hall, even if he wasn't bound by his persona to stay until the party ended or the sun rose. And it's starting to look like sunup will be the earlier of the two conditions, so it's just as well he's a jobless layabout who can sleep all day tomorrow.

At least Counselor Featherstone looks to be having fun with Idelle, all tucked into a sort of quiet corner with her and staring shamelessly at her tits. Which are quite noticeable in the dress she's wearing, to be fair. But Jack doesn't particularly want to spend his night thinking about that either.

So he turns on his heel and weaves through the crowd until he's reached the French doors leading to the little patio out back. He needs a minute – just one minute – of quiet and calm. Just a minute to catch his breath before he heads back into the heaving throng.

He walks out to the edge of the lawn and lets out a long sigh, head tipped towards the heavens.

“Get sick of the party, Jack?”

Charles emerges from the dark, only the glowing cherry of his cigar lighting his face, making his eyes gleam in a way that would be terrifying if Jack didn't know him so well.

But he does know Charles, so he just turns toward him, slumps against him in exhaustion. “I'll admit, it's a little harder to make it through these things without enough blow to keep an entire 80's office building supplied.”

Charles grins. “Or you're just getting old.”

“And what does that say about you, Chaz?” Jack leans back to look him in the eye. “You're the one out here in the dark all by yourself. Maybe you're the one getting too old for this shit.”

Charles eyes the house and all the guests making a disgusting mess all over Jack's fancy furniture. It's unbelievable, and he's spent his whole life, minus the last few months, living on the streets or in derelict drug dens.

“Don't know that I was ever young enough for this particular shit. Want to pretend to be desperate for a fuck and go hide upstairs?”

Jack considers it for a long moment, torn between responsibility to Max and his desire to escape the party. But fear of Max wins out – she can make is life awfully difficult. And that's without Anne giving him unimpressed looks on her behalf.

“Want to pretend to make out on the dancefloor instead?”

Charles grins. “Ok, but don't get pissy at me for grabbing your ass.” And he proceeds to steer Jack into the house and out into the middle of the dancefloor by doing just that, to the cheers and wolf whistles of everyone close enough to understand what he's doing.

Which is a fair number, because Charles is not exactly known for being subtle. And then he sticks his tongue down Jack's throat.

“I hope you know this means I'm spending tomorrow braiding your hair in retaliation,” Jack growls at him, when he's finally let up for air. “And I will give you pigtails.”

Charles just laughs, so apparently it's not a enough of a threat. Jack will find something truly menacing at some point. He swears.

#black sails #charles vane/jack rackham #max/anne #i travel troubled oceans #chapter 10

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amarabliss · 4 years

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Oath and Hearts... - 3 (Ignis Scientia/Reader)

So this is a crossover between FFXV and Dragon Age Inquisition.

You fell through a rift into the fade fighting the demons you swore to protect your world from. When you popped out you were no longer in the lands of Ferelden instead trapped in Insomnia. The gracious king allowed you to say recognizing power when he saw it. One thing led to another and now you were part of the procession of the prince to his wedding years later. Before the final battle, after years of fighting, losses, and love…your friend…your king…Noctis has asked you to change it all…

Part 1 Part 2

“I can’t do this again.” You spoke quietly as you stared up at the ceiling. You pulled the sheet up around yourself as you heard rustling next to you.

Nyx hoisted himself on his elbow and looked down to you, “Does this mean you have accepted an invitation to a date with someone you actually find yourself attracted to?”

“I have.” You smiled at him brushing your hand through your hair.

“Oh…do I know this gentleman and or lady?” You laughed as he wiggled his eyebrows smiling at you.

“You do.” You weren’t going to make this easy for him and he knew it.

“Is it a Glaive?” You shook your head and saw a bit of relief fill him, “Hmm…is it… oh! It’s Laval, isn’t it? He’s always fancied you since I brought you to his food truck all those years ago.”

You laughed sitting up pulling your knees to your chest, “No, this gentleman works in the Citadel.”

“Is he a paper pusher?” Nyx sat next to you rubbing his chin.

You thought about it for a moment, “He can be, but that’s not what he does.”

“Is he a guard guard or Crowns Guard?” He prodded more.

“The latter…” You could feel your anxiety beginning to build. Nyx was really your only friend who stood by you this entire time and you knew how he felt about this specific gentleman.

“Gladio!” He snapped his fingers at you smirking.

Rolling your eyes, you stood up looking for your clothes, “No…”

“Come on! He’s a nice guy, good name behind him too.” He defended, “Gladiolus Amicitia, it has a very nice ring to it.”

“Yes, but…” You found your trousers and began pulling them on “isn’t he a bit…boorish?”

“Boorish!…Shiva you your ladyship is showing again, and I for one would not call him boorish…a flirt maybe…” He smirked at you as you swept up your hair, “Well if it’s not Gladio, who you deem boorish…is it the young stallion named Prompto?”

“Heavens no!” You watched him laugh a little, “Are you done guessing?”

“Maybe Cor? If you like them a bit older…” This was too far. You grabbed a discarded pillow and threw it at him, “You’re no fun…fine, who is this gentleman caller?”

You froze and swallowed as you began to turn from him, “Ignis…”

“Scientia?” The pitch in his voice rose.

“Well I don’t know any other Ignis.” You mumbled picking up your shirt.

“Really? That cold bastard asked you out?” Nyx stood up from the bed a look of disdain plastered on his face.

“Dinner, yes.” You pulled your shirt over your head.

“And you like him?” Nyx cocked his jaw a little.

“I do. We have good conversation…” You explained as you sat down on your bed, “He’s not that bad…”

“He is that bad…” Nyx sat down frowning a little, “He practically oozes disgust when he sees us…”

‘Us’ meaning anyone from Galahd. You sighed looking at him, “You give him very little credit. He is more in your corner then you think. He doesn’t hate your people.”

“So, you’ve talked about this?” Nyx looked at you seriously.

“Yes…Nyx you’re my best friend and the only one besides the King who trusted me without a doubt when I landed here.” You took his hand in yours squeezing it tightly, “I wouldn’t want anyone in my life who didn’t accept you.”

He smiled a lot before it transformed into smirk, “So…when is this encounter happening?”

“This weekend.” You took in a deep breath staring at him, “I was actually really surprised he asked.”

“You shouldn’t be, you’re an amazing catch.” Nyx ended up pulling you in close for a hug. He ran a hand through your hair a kissed your forehead, “And if he does anything to insult your ladyship’s honor, just tell me and I’ll set him straight post haste.”

You smiled letting your eyes trace over Ignis’ sleeping form. It had been a very long time since you thought of your good friend Nyx. When you had found out about the Insomnia attack you had tried for days to get in touch with him…you never did.

God you missed him…

But when you saw Ignis relaxed next you, you could hear Nyx in the back of your mind picking fun at you for your happiness. It made you both sad and glad.

Your relationship with Nyx wasn’t a complicated one. You both didn’t belong in Insomnia and everyone reminded you of it. You both were good at what you did, protect others at any cost, and you found companionship because of it. So…when you fell into each other arms one night after drinking an entire fifth of bootleg Galahd whiskey, it wasn’t too surprising. It became a thing you two had with one another, and you both had agreed it would stop if you had interest in someone.

You hummed a little as moved closer to the man in your bed placing your hands on his chest as you leaned in kissing his neck. You were greeted with pleased noises before his warm hands found your sides.

You paused looking up seeing his green eyes peering down to you as he spoke, “Don’t stop on my account.”

You giggled before laying your head against his chest listening to his heartbeat. It pulsed through you reverberating through every vein, “We’re going to be late if we don’t get up soon.”

He took a deep breath in letting his chest rise and fall, “You’re quite right…”

You waited for him to release you, but it never came. You felt a knot tighten in your throat suddenly overwhelmed in his presence. You tried desperately to get yourself under control.

“Are you alright? You’re absolutely shivering.” He reached down pulling the blanket up around the both of you.

“Yes…I’m alright. I’m right where I need to be.” You replied as you began tracing circles on his chest.

“You say that as if you should in fact be somewhere else…” His hand fell over yours getting you to stop, “Is there something on your mind?”

You sat up looking down at him, “What makes you think that?”

Ignis let his eyes look you over calculating his response, “You’ve been rather distant lately…as if something is weighing you down. I’ve noticed it since we’ve left Lestallum, since you fell ill.”

“I assure you I am fine.” You smiled at him, “But I get the sense that you’re not going to let this go…is there some way I can ease your mind?”

“Hmm…” He reached up touching your cheek gently stroking it with his thumb, “Let us forego out dinner plans with the group and instead spend in evening alone in Altissia.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“I know we agreed to keep things more business like on this trip…but…with our little liaison…” He began.

“Oh, I wouldn’t call anything little about our liaison…” You smirked seeing a blush come to his cheeks.

He cleared his throat continuing, “…while that may be… it seems silly to let our presence in such a lovely city go to waste. We never had much time to go out again. It seems so very long ago…”

It was, so long ago…You had to think really hard about it. It had nearly been six months since he’d last taken you out. You remembered it slowly, but it came back to you.

“You took me to that awful opera.” You smirked at him.

“In my defense, it said nothing about being in the archaic language of Tenebrae…nor did it mention being three hours long before intermission.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Well I do recall enjoying the aftermath…finding that little Galahd café where we had the best spice tea I’ve had in ages…” You grabbed onto his hand that hand absently kept stroking your cheek.

“I remember how your face lit up.” You listened to him intently as he described the event, “I had never seen your smile so bright before when you took that first sip. You said it tasted like home. You stared into that cup for a long time before your smile faded again. You tried so hard to keep your spirits up after that, and you did well.”

“But I could see how much you missed home. So from that night on I vowed to do everything I could to make you see home here again.” He smiled at you bringing your hand to his lips kissing your fingers, “Through cooking, since it’s the one thing I can do well…”

You didn’t know that. He never told you. Suddenly so many encounters made since. The stop in Lestallum, his insistence that he needed your help purchasing supplies, and the constant pester of smelling herbs and spices. This man…this wonderful, intelligent being, did everything in his power to make you feel comfortable when he didn’t need to.

“You sell yourself short.” You smiled leaning down kissing him, “You have many qualities that you do well. Shall I name them?”

“I wish wouldn’t.” He sat up resting his forehead against yours, “It will waste precious daylight if you list them all.”

You laughed as he boasted. You loved this side of him. He would put up this very large protective wall when out in the world, but with you he became relaxed and foolish at times, “Oh…I love you.”

You felt your chest tighten after the words past your lips. It wasn’t a lie… he would be able to tell…but you knew it would change everything.

His head tilted slightly as his eyes met yours. You were afraid. You knew eventually, years from now, that he would tell you the same…but…it was so different from now. There was no light…he couldn’t see you…yet you laid next him letting him trace your face with his fingers…

It startled when he reached up tracing your lips with his thumb. It burned and sent everything inside you on fire. You expected some sort of answer from him, but instead he kissed you. Over and over again until he pushed you back into the bed.

Finally he pulled away nuzzling your face as he spoke, “I’ve longed to hear you say those words…and they are sweeter then I could have imagined.”

Your breath caught in your throat when he bit your earlobe continuing in a whisper, “I love you.”

Every kiss after he whispered the three words burning them into every inch of your skin. All plans of leaving the hotel vanished as you melted in his grasp. Not even the constant vibration of your phones didn’t coax you out.

You could practically hear Nyx dripping with sarcasm, “So, highborn Amicitia isn’t your type, bad boy immigrants aren’t your type…you go for beanpole librarians? You’re definitely from a different world…you and Scientia are perfect for each other…”

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mistydacat · 4 years

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Cursed || A Felinette Story || Chapter 1

Who would've thought that a seemingly ordinary Thursday afternoon, a letter would arrive in the mail that would change their life?

Marinette sure didn't.

So she was surprised when her parents called her down from her room, claiming that a letter had arrived in the mail for her.

At first, she was confused. It couldn't be from any of her friends; they could just text her. Who would send her a letter?

It must be something super important. Marinette thought to herself. People were only sent letters these days if it was an invitation to some sort of fancy event. Though, she supposed schools sent out letters sometimes as well.

Marinette tried to rack her brain for anything she could have done that would have been worth sending a letter home for, but came up with nothing. Maybe Lila had come up with another lie to get her into trouble again? However, she hadn't been in school for a while, so that didn't make sense.

But one look at her parents' faces destroyed that theory, much to her relief. They were smiling at her.

So now, she was back to confused. Instead of further dwelling on it and jumping to conclusions, like she usually did, Marinette decided to just ask.

"A letter? Who is it from?"

"Do you know that art school that's not too far from here? Lycée D'Arts en Hausse?" Her mother asked.

"Yeah?" Marinette responded, unsure of where this was going.

Her dad handed her the letter with her name printed on it. A similar envelope lay on the counter, opened. She could just make out her parents' names on it from where she was standing.

She opened up hers and began reading.

Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng,

We, Lycée D'Arts en Hausse's talent scouts, have found the exceptional work you have done as a designer. We have seen the world-renowned rock star, Jagged Stone's new album cover, and the Pigeon Feather hat you skillfully created for a recent Gabriel fashion show. We have unanimously agreed that your talent is something we would happily accept at this school.

Attached to this letter is a pamphlet that features some of the many things Lycee D'Arts en Hausse offers to its design students.

If you think that this school is fit for you, you can send an email to [email protected] so we can book you an interview and start the school transferring process.

Sincerely,

Lycée D'Arts en Hausse

Marinette jaw dropped.

"No way," she breathed out, looking wide-eyed at her parents.

"It's your choice if you go or not, of course. I know you'll probably miss your friends, but you can always meet up with them on weekends and after school. You could even arrange to spend your lunch hour with them if you'd really like to," her mother said, offering her a comforting smile.

"This could be an excellent opportunity for you to get a head start in the fashion industry." Her father butted in.

Marinette, still in shock, could only nod at her parents. She was still trying to process what was happening.

She weighed the pros and cons. On the plus side, her dad was right, this would be a great opportunity. She could go to class with other young designers like her and have a professional teacher. She would probably learn things that she wouldn't have been able to teach herself!

But, on the downside, she was moving to a new school. At her new school, she could get away from Chloe and Lila, although they don't really bother her as much as they used to. She didn't know anyone there, and, unlike what would happen if she transferred at the beginning of the year, she would be the only new student. People had already established their friend groups. What if no one wanted to talk to her? Or worse, what if there was someone ever more awful than Chloe and Lila? What would she do then?

"Marinette?"

Marinette blinked back into reality, created by her parents' worried faces.

"Sorry, I'm just... taking it all in, I guess."

Their expressions relaxed. "You can take a few days to think it over if you'd like. This is a big decision." Her mother comforted.

"Thanks, Maman. Thanks, Papa." She kissed both her parents' cheeks. "I love you both so much."

"We love you too, sweetie." Her mother smiled.

»»————- ⚜ ————-««

Marinette went up to her room. She felt that she needed to ask Tikki for her opinion, then she would video call Alya and ask for her advice.

"I'm so happy for you, Marinette!" Tikki beamed.

"Do you think I should go?" Marinette asked her.

"It would be a pretty significant change for you, but not necessarily a bad one! Think of all the new experiences you'll go through!" The kwami of creation cheered.

Marinette sighed. "I don't know. I guess I'm just..."

"Nervous?" Tikki finished for her.

She nodded.

"You have to go through changes in your life, Marinette. It's inevitable. But it makes you a stronger person." Tikki assured her.

"You're right." The young designer smiled at her. "I'm still gonna call Alya and ask for her opinion, though."

Tikki nodded. "Go ahead!"

Marinette unlocked her phone and texted Alya.

ThatOneDesigner: Hey, I need to talk to you about this super important thing.

Alya responded quickly.

ThatOneLadyblogger:???

ThatOneLadyblogger: What is it??????

ThatOneDesigner: Can I call you?

ThatOneDesigner: Sure.

Marinette hit the call button and watched as Alya's face filled the screen after she accepted.

"Hey girl, what's up?" Asked Alya.

"So... I don't know how to say this, but..." Marinette started.

"But what?"

"There's this super awesome arts school that liked my work and offered me a spot there in design!" She blurted out quickly.

Alya gasped. "Oh my gosh, Girl! That's so awesome! I'm super excited for you! Did you respond to them yet? Do you know when you're gonna start? I'm soo jealous! Oh my gosh, tell me everything!"

Marinette smiled at her best friend's reaction. How could she ever have thought she would react otherwise?

She quickly filled Alya in on all the details she knew of.

"-So, I called you to ask for your opinion." Marinette finished.

"Girl, there is no way I am letting you pass up this opportunity! Do you really have a reason not to go?" Alya told her.

Marinette pursed her lips. "Well, I was scared of what you'd think. I didn't want it to seem like I was abandoning you."

Alya let out a fake gasp. "How dare you think so lowly of me!" She yelled dramatically, striking a classic 'woe-is-me' pose. "What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn't extremely over-supportive of you going to this school? Marinette, you should be ashamed! Ashamed, I tell you!"

Both girls simultaneously burst into a fit of giggles, which then erupted into roaring laughter. They didn't stop until they were struggling to breathe, tears forming in the corners of their eyes.

Things always seemed a hundred times funnier when they came out of the mouths of your best friends.

"You know what would totally be awesome?" Alya began after (mostly) recovering from their laugh attack. "You should definitely introduce me, Nino, and Adrien to any new friends you make at your school. That way, we could have one giant friend group! Also, I'll need to run a background check and approve of all your new friends. I don't want you to befriend anyone that could potentially hurt you."

Marinette laughed. "Alya, I don't even know if I'll make any new friends."

"There is no way anyone could meet you and not instantly want to be your best friend. Literally, our whole class loves you, except Chloe, but I don't think she loves anybody. You'll make tons of new friends."

"Alya, you know what? I think I'm gonna go."

Alya squealed. "I knew I could convince you! But you have to call us every day and have lunch with us at least once a week. Also, if you're not busy, we have to meet up on weekends."

Marinette rolled her eyes playfully. "Obviously. Those are all given."

"I can't believe you're gonna go to a fancy art school!"

"Why do I feel like you're more excited about this than I am?" Marinette teased.

"That's because I am. Overly-supportive best friend, remember?"

Marinette laughed again. Talking to Alya had really hyped her up for the move.

"I've gotta go help my mom with some stuff. See you tomorrow?"

Marinette nodded, giving her friend a little wave. "Bye!"

"Byeeee!" Alya blew a kiss at the screen, then hung up.

»»————- ⚜ ————-««

The next few days went by rather quickly. Marinette had come home from school on Friday and told her parents that she had made her decision. The next thing she did was send an email to the school telling them that she was interested in enrolling. They sent their response back rather quickly and scheduled an appointment for her, which she attended a few days later.

They mostly just gave her a tour of the building and introduced her to some potential teachers. She met the principal, Mme. Ambroise, who had seemed to be a very kind woman who genuinely cared for each one of her students.

A week later was her last day at her current school, Collège Françoise Dupont, and boy was it emotional.

Her classmates gathered around her, offering their goodbyes and wishing her good luck. Some have even brought gifts. Rose had handed her friendship bracelet with her name on it, and a quick glance showed that the entire girl squad had one as well.

Mylene, Rose, Juleka, and Ivan had also gotten Luka to help them make her a song that she downloaded and vowed to listen to on her first day. Nino had also made a few remixes of it, so she had a variety.

Nathanial had drawn a portrait of her as a half-phoenix, to represent rebirth and starting over.

Alya had gotten her a set of brand new charcoal pencils, and Adrien had gotten her the prettiest sketchbook she had ever seen. It had the Eiffel Tower on it, which he said was because he had heard her say it inspired her. He and Alya had thought that since she would be starting at a new school, she should have some new supplies to really start off fresh.

The gifts really touched her heart, and when it was time to hug everyone and say their last goodbyes, half the class was almost in tears.

»»————- ⚜ ————-««

Marinette was very tempted to collapse onto her bed the second she got home and contemplate her entire life, but she needed to get her things ready for the next day.

She emptied her backpack of all the workbooks and papers from her old school, but then she decided to dump everything else out so she could clean her bag. There were a lot of crumpled up papers and even if you stray pencils.

Once she was done, she put in her pencil case and a few other supplies, along with the new sketchbook and pencils she had gotten.

When Marinette was done, she realized how much spare time she had since she didn't have any homework to do, and decided to clean her room. Tomorrow was a new beginning, why not start off with a tidy bedroom?

She cleaned up and put away some stray fabrics, yarn, and thread. She also took the time to hang up the art Nathanial had given her.

Marinette stared at her walls, hesitating. Should she take the pictures of Adrien down?

This was supposed to be the start of a new era for her, right? Adrien didn't seem to have returned any of her affections, so maybe she should move on?

No, what was she thinking!? Just because she was moving to a new school doesn't mean she was giving up!

But at the same time, what if she met someone else? Adrien was clearly uninterested, maybe she was thinking these thoughts because she had already partially moved on. She had even gotten over her stutter.

Marinette's hand hovered over one of the pictures, then she shook her head. She would just wait and see if her feelings changed the next time she saw him.

»»————- ⚜ ————-««

Marinette spent the rest of her day helping her parents in the bakery and working on a leather skirt. She didn't usually work with leather, as it was one of the more finicky materials to sew, so she was getting some practice in.

Marinette went to sleep early that night, grateful that Hawkmoth had decided not to release an akuma that night. She hoped that maybe tomorrow she'd actually get to school on time. »»————- ⚜ ————-««

Cursed Masterlist

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Read it on AO3

mistydacat Masterlist

#felinette #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug

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ericsonclan · 4 years

Text

Meeting Prisha

Summary: Prisha’s my OC for TWDG. Gonna post some establishing shots of her so y’all can get to know and love her :D (She appears in most of our fanfics, so fingers crossed you like her)

Read on A03:

“Anyone care to explain again why I’m wearing these fucking stupid sunglasses while we traipse through the woods?” Violet grumbled. She narrowly avoiding a wandering tree root, the pink, heart-shaped glasses on her face dangling precariously on the edge of her nose as she, Louis and Clementine made their way down to the caravan meeting point.

Louis smiled as he slung Chairles over his shoulder. “I told you, Vi, you’re coming with us so you can meet someone special! The glasses are just to protect your eyesight from all the sunshine and also to impress that certain someone should the fancy strike you…” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively even though Violet was ahead of him and too busy quietly cussing to look his way. Clementine, leading the way, shot Violet an apologetic smile. “Just ignore him, Vi. The sunglasses are just a protective measure in case the sunlight in the clearing is too intense. But you shouldn’t have to wear them while we’re in the forest; the trees should provide enough shade,” “Thank God!” Violet ripped the sunglasses off of her face and tossed them behind her haphazardly. “I can’t stand those shitty things,” “Why, Violet!” Louis gasped in mock indignation. “I am truly hurt! I traded for these sunglasses with you especially in mind!” He bent down for a second to gingerly pick up the discarded sunglasses, tucking them in his shirt pocket. “I for one think they look quite cute on you,” Violet wordlessly gave him the finger without looking back. Clem sighed. “They are the best option we’ve found so far. As soon as something better comes along you can burn those things.” She ignored Louis’ screech of protest. Violet sighed. “I know what you guys are trying to do. But it’s not like I can’t stand some strangers gaping in horror at my ugly mug. If anything, maybe it’ll intimidate them into making a better deal with us. Clementine shot a concerned glance Violet’s way. The burns from the explosion and damage to her eyes had never fully recovered. It didn’t seem to make too much difference to Violet on a daily basis when she was hanging out with the other Ericson kids, but she had avoided venturing out into the outside world more than the rest of them and it was clear to Clementine that this was due to more than just her lone wolf demeanor. She wished there was a better alternative than those ridiculous glasses Louis had picked up a few months ago, but here they were, a year after the events of the Delta and they still hadn’t been able to trade for a good pair of sunglasses for Violet. That wasn’t the sole thing they were in search of today though. As they neared the clearing, Clem held up a hand to signal that they should pause. The three teens scanned the setup of the latest caravan that had temporarily settled on the shore of the river by the wreckage of Lily’s barge. There were about a dozen people in the group, with a range of ages and races in the mix. A few middle-aged men worked to erect a tent while a mother followed her toddler’s tottering steps round the encampment. A young woman stood by the wreckage of the ship, examining it curiously. Louis nudged Violet excitedly, pointing toward the girl. “There she is, Vi! Your future girlfriend!” “My future what?”

“Louis!” Clem hissed. “Don’t go jumping the gun like that! We’re just here to trade, nothing more.” “Aaaw, c’mon, Clem! I already told you what I saw!” “What are you talking about?” Violet demanded. Louis leaned closer to her, his voice low. “When Clem and I came across the group the other day and stopped to talk, that girl was totally checking out Clem’s butt!” Both girls glared at him in annoyance. “What?” “Seriously? That’s all you have to go off of?” “She was entranced! Mesmerized!” “She was probably just trying to see if I had a concealed weapon, Louis. You need to calm down!” “I saw what I saw!” “So that’s why I’m here?” Violet spat. “This is a hookup?” “No, it’s not!” Clementine insisted. “We just thought it would be good to have you along with us. It’s been a while since… you’ve been outside,” Violet wanted to have a snarky response to that. Part of her wanted to tell Clem and Louis to fuck off, that she was perfectly fine without any of their damn help. But looking at the sincere hope in Clem’s face and Louis’ goofy grin, she buried that instinct and let out a reluctant sigh. “Fine, I’ll go out there. But I am NOT wearing those stupid sunglasses.” As they approached the camp, the men at work took notice and put down what they were doing to come over. The oldest man spoke first. “Hello again. Clementine, right?” “That’s correct. And you’re Ed?” “Mhm, you remember Garrett and Gavin,” The man nodded to the two young men behind him. “And you’re Louis,” “That’s me!” Louis quipped, letting Chairles fall from his shoulder and offering his hand to the man. “This is Violet,” Violet tried to take in the men’s expressions as they saw her face. These last 9 years had hardened most people; though a moment of shock may have passed across their faces seeing the state of her eyes, their resting expressions remained inscrutable. “Last time we were here we also talked to a young woman in your group.” Louis continued. Violet felt like jabbing him in the ribs. Really, he was just going to lead with that? The man seemed unfazed though. “That’s right. Would you like to talk to her too?” He turned toward the direction of the river. “Prisha! We’ve got company!” The girl by the wreckage turned around, and for the first time Violet got a look at her features. She was still too far away to see clearly, but she could make out some things. She was tall and slim and her skin was dark – Violet guessed Indian or East Asian from the name. Violet felt her stomach twist inside of her and looked away hurriedly. This was so stupid. Clem turned to speak to Ed. “If you have the time now, we brought some of the goods you mentioned you had an interest in last we met,” Ed nodded. “Right. Our supplies are in the main tent. Garret, come with me and help me find them. Gavin, can you get the rest of the poles up on your own?” Gavin assented, and soon all three men and Clem had scattered. Shit, was this all part of the plan? Violet clenched her hands by her sides. “So, you’ve come back,” The girl had reached them and stood before Violet and Louis, hands on her hips. “Prisha! Always a pleasure,” Louis gave a dramatic bow, then popped up and took Violet by the shoulders. “I’d like you to meet a dear friend of mine. Prisha, Violet. Violet, Prisha. After hearing some stories of your escapades from your group, I thought you might enjoy meeting our resident badass.” “Is that so?” Prisha quirked an eyebrow and looked at Violet. “What’s your weapon of choice?” “Meat cleaver,” Violet muttered, looking at the ground. She didn’t want to admit that she hadn’t had much practice with it since the accident. “Fascinating choice. Mind if I see it?” Violet took it out of the sling on her back and held it out for Prisha to see. “Impressive edge. Looks like it has good upkeep.” Violet nodded noncommittally. She’d been doing nothing but sharpening it lately. “This is my weapon of choice,” Prisha said, patting something attached to her hip. Looking down, Violet could see it was some form of axe, though the reach was longer than a normal hatchet and the end in the sheath looked quite narrow, like an icepick. Louis let out a long whistle. “That’s quite the weapon. Bet it just takes one hit to down a walker,” “That’s right. This world’s full of too many goddamn walkers for me to be wearing my arms out braining each one,” “On that note – Oh, what was that Clem?” Louis turned and waved in Clementine’s direction. “Looks like she needs me. See ya later, Prisha!” “Louis-” Violet hissed, but he was already gone. A moment of awkward silence fell between the girls. Prisha quickly broke it. “Your friends are good people. We had just started to set up camp yesterday when a pack of walkers showed up out of nowhere. Marie was in a tough spot when they came across us. Even after they got her out, they stuck around till the whole pack was cleared out,” “Yeah, we try to keep things clear in this area since it’s a common resting spot for caravans,” “That’s thoughtful of you. Not many groups that look out for anyone besides their own these days,” Violet looked over to Louis and Clementine. They were going through some large bags Ed and Garrett had brought out. “What can I say? Those idiots wouldn’t have it any other way,” There was a pause. “I’m going to ask you a personal question. You can tell me to fuck off if you like,” Violet turned to look at Prisha in surprise. The girl’s face was confident and collected. Now that she was closer, Violet could see that she had surprisingly long hair that rested in a large braided bun at the base of her neck. Violet swallowed nervously. Her throat felt thick. “What?” “What happened to your eyes?” There it was. “An explosion. On that boat,” Prisha turned for a second to reexamine the wreckage behind them. “Sounds like quite a story,” “It’s not one we share,” “Fair enough. I apologize if my question came across as blunt. I find that these days it’s better to address the scars people bear than pretend I don’t see them. It tends to cut through a lot of the bullshit,” “I can respect that,” “Prisha!” Ed called. “We need your help showing our guests how your latest contraption works!” “Coming, Ed!” Prisha turned to Violet. “Would you like to see it too? It’s a pronged fishing spear. Sort of like a trident. My attempt at increasing the chances of getting in a good shot,” Violet shrugged. “Sure,” “Awesome. You know, if you all have time to stay I’m sure Ed will invite you to join us for dinner. It’s been a long time since we had company,” Violet felt the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “That’d be nice,” “The feeling’s mutual. After you,” As they walked toward the group, Violet could see Louis making some sort of sign that looked like a thumbs up, which was quickly slapped down by Clem. Violet rolled her eyes. That idiot. Yet, a little part inside of her warmed up at the gesture. They’d been right. She’d been long overdue to head outside. And from what she’d seen, what they found past the old safe zone wasn’t half bad.

#clouis #twdg clouis #twdg season 4 #telltalethewalking dead #twdg louis #twdg clementine #twdgs4 #fanfic #twdg prisha #twdg privet #twdg violet

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julia-highstorms · 5 years

Text

Closer: Part One (Bryce x Rei (F!MC))

Summary: Rei Sato has been crushing hard on a certain surgical intern...

Author’s note: I’m very excited to write about my MC, Rei Sato. Not only because I made her Tom’s cousin and older sister figure, but because she’s different from the type of character I usually write: they mostly are confident and bold. Rei is… just a nervous mess (a little bit like her lil cousin lol). She puts too much pressure on herself, doubts if she’s good enough and is a workaholic. This is a two parts fanfic and it takes place between chapters 5 and 6.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixelberry Studios.

Song: Closer - Tegan and Sara

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Bryce x F!MC (Rei Sato)

Word count: 2700

All I wanna get it a little bit closer

All I wanna know is, can you come a little closer?

“Ugh, I can’t believe those butchers are already here. It almost feels like this is the only bar in town.” - Jackie commented as soon as they entered the ever dingy and packed Donahue's. The surgical interns were already playing darts with their drinks in hands.

It was a Thursday night, Rei was accompanied by her roommates and all the medical interns had just finished their latest fourteen-hour long shift. They were all feeling pretty tired, but also feeling like celebrating. They had survived another endless shift, they deserved it.

“Well, this is the nearest bar of the hospital…” - Landry murmured. Indeed, it was just down the hospital's street.

The group immediately headed to their favorite booth. After two weeks being regular customers there, they were already feeling like the booths area belonged to the internal medicine interns. Rei's eyes immediately landed on a figure on the other side of the bar. He was playing games with the other surgical interns, as usual.

"Okay, whose turn is it to get the drinks? Is it yours, Rei?" - she snapped out of her trance as she heard Sienna talking to her by her side.

"Is it? Okay." - her friends cheered as Rei headed to the bar and asked for a round of tequila for them.

She hummed to the song that played in the crowded bar as she waited for her drinks, when someone approached her, followed by a voice she knew almost too well by know.

“Fancy meeting you here.” - even before she turned to look back at him, Rei knew he had that characteristic cocky smirk on his face. Bryce’s playful dark eyes found hers. - “Feeling better?” - he asked in a lower volume, his usual confidence replaced by a quick mask of concern.

“Yeah.” - she murmured back, unable to prevent her cheeks from getting hot. Dammit, she knew she was blushing. - “Uh, thanks for checking upon me.” - she said, referring to what happened earlier that day.

“No problem. I’m a doctor. It kind of is my job to know if people are doing okay.” - but before Rei had a chance to reply anything back, Bryce's colleagues called for him; it was his turn on the game. - "Coming!" - he grabbed the gin tonic the barman gave him and turned to her: - "Guess this is my cue. Talk to you more later?"

"Yeah." - she smiled coyly to his wink and he walked away.

She couldn't contain a frustrated sigh as the barman handed her the tequila shots.

Rei Sato's been gathering up enough courage to ask Bryce Lahela out. But whenever she found herself alone with him - something that would happen quite frequently, based on all the times they had made out in that supply closet already -, the words just seemed to not come out of her mouth. As if she suddenly had lost her ability to speak.

At the same time that he would instantly put her at ease with that laidback, easygoing and overly confident personality, he made her that nervous.

Rei returned to her booth and her friends swung back the drinks at once.

“Ugh, will this thing ever start tasting better?” - Landry asked with a scowl as he put his empty shot glass back onto the table.

“It gets after a few more shots, Olsen.” - Jackie chuckled, as an upbeat pop song started playing.

“That’s my jam! Who cares to join me?”

“Let’s do this, Greene.” - Jackie got out of the booth and guided Elijah’s wheelchair toward the dance floor.

“Uh, the drinks are already making effect. Excuse me, girls.” - Landry said and headed towards the men’s restroom.

As soon as they found themselves alone in the booth, Sienna leaned closer to Rei’s side:

“You should ask him out!” - she clapped her hands together, whispering conspiratory to her friend. Rei almost choked on her drink.

“Ask whom?”

“Don’t try to fool me, Sato! Bryce Lahela! I saw you two chatting at the bar! There is something going on, I can sense it.”

Oh my god, what she was going to do? She couldn’t let any of her roommates know that she crushed on him that hard.

“Me? Asking someone out? Did you take one of your patients medicines?” - Rei said instead.

“I’m serious, Rei! What’s the problem? You clearly are interested in him.”

“Oh god, is it that obvious that I’m attracted to him?” - Rei hid her face behind her hands, casting a quick glance to where Bryce was with his friends.

Sienna giggled.

“Well, yeah. But don’t worry, it’s reciprocated.”

“How can you be so sure about it?”

“Because I know.” - Rei rolled her eyes to her friend’s vague answer.

“I…” - she looked down to her hands fidgeting nervously on her lap. - “Well, I guess we kind of already had a date. I mean, he invited me to this concert after a shift last week.”

“Oh! Really?” - Sienna shuffled excitedly on her seat. - “And what happened?”

“We enjoyed it.” - Rei’s cheeks turned a shade pinker. - “We danced… got some drinks… kissed...” - her friend let out a squeal. - “It was good.” - a small smile turned her mouth upwards. - “He even accompanied me back home, but then I had to run back to the hospital…” - she frowned as she remembered what happened afterwards. Dolores Hudson. Little Ethan.

“Well, but you clearly enjoyed it! And, based on what you told me about what happened today, I’m pretty sure he cares for you, Rei. So, what’s the problem? You two had already made out a few many times in the supply closet, I know.” - the petite woman winked playfully to her friend, who groaned in embarrassment.

“But… it’s different. I mean, asking him on a date.” - her face went pale. - “I’ll have to flirt. Oh god.”

“Hm, yeah? This is basically what you do on a date? Why? What’s the problem?”

The problem was that Rei Sato had never been a great flirt. In fact, she kind of sucked at it.

Okay, she totally sucked at it.

She never knew what to say. What to do. Even when people flirted with her. “Was that glance a ‘hey, you seem nice, let’s talk’ type of glance of a ‘hey, you’re hot, let’s take our clothes off now’ one?". She never knew what they meant.

She had a few crushes growing up, but they never became anything more, and it never bothered her, really. She could count on one hand how many people she made out with in her whole life. And god knew how many times she had sex too: twice. And the first time was awful; they were both drunk and did it on a stall in a nightclub. Oh god, even remembering it made her cringe so hard. The second time was a bit better. They had privacy and were on a comfy bed. But he was her best friend. Things turned strange after it. And then they weren’t best friends anymore. Not even friends.

Anyway, to be honest, Rei Sato never cared much about it. About love and sex and that kind of stuff. Just thinking about it kind of made her nervous. She didn’t care anymore that she was 27 years old and had kissed only four people her whole life and had sex a couple of times. There was just one event here and there that she would look at someone and think ‘wow, this person is hot, I wouldn’t mind if they tore my clothes off’. It happened so sporadically that she just accepted that it was her nature and the way she was.

After she accepted it, things turned so much easier. She could finally stop creating fictional partners. She didn’t have to pretend she had fake crushes anymore.

It was handy that she didn’t have time for it too. Her life was entirely focused on saving other people’s lives. Rei always knew, since she was a little girl, that she wanted to be a doctor. It was her dream, her destiny, her goal, her wish, her everything.

But boy, oh boy, it wasn’t easy. There were times that she had almost given up. And, even though she apparently was a capable doctor - she still was an intern, but either way -, based on her impeccable report, Rei Sato still doubted herself, every single minute. Although she had always been one of the best students of her schools, Rei lacked confidence. What if she wasn’t good enough? What if she put some of her patients’ lives in danger again? What if one of her patients… died because of her inexperience?

And then, she started her internship at Edenbrook Hospital. Under her personal hero, Dr. Ethan Ramsey’s guidance. And with a bunch more of super capable and super confident - and super intimidating - interns. And everything felt like a competition; the majority of the other interns were always comparing between themselves who picked the toughest cases, who had treated the most patients. There were days when Rei felt like the job’s pressure and all that harshness between the hospital staff were so intense they were going to crush her.

...And today was one of those days. That made her want to throw it all away and fly back to Oregon, to her family.

The pressure was maddening.

...Rei'd never been a quitter. She had endured everything until now firmly and had never given up. She wasn't going to start doing that now.

...But she had to take a little break.

She walked down the hallway in a quick pace and only let out a relieved sigh when she found herself alone and safe inside the supply closet, closing the door behind her. It wasn’t the ideal place for a break, but that was what she could have. A bit of fresh air would be nice, but she couldn’t leave the hospital, even for a couple minutes on the parking lot. What if one of her patients needed her? She had to stay inside that maze - she’d been working there for weeks now, but she still got lost - to know in case she was needed.

The intern took a few deep breaths, calming herself.

She knew it was going to be like that. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Then, why she just kept having breakdowns regularly?

...She was pathetic. She had to change. She had to stop whining and do something. If she really wanted to be a doctor, she had to become tougher--

“I knew I’d find you here.” - his voice sounded both calm and confident. Even before she turned to face him, she knew he was smirking.

Bryce Lahela always had that cocky smirk on his face.

“Yeah…” - she murmured, turning her face away and staring at a blind spot on the floor.

He calmly sat down by her side.

“You okay?” - the tone of his voice was low and genuine. And she somehow knew he was asking it because he truly cared, not just because he was just being polite.

“I’ll be.”

“Tough day, huh?”

“Yeah.” - they stayed in there, in the dark and tight supply closet, in silence, for a few minutes.

Bryce didn't force her to open up. He never did; he would just sit there and… wait. Until she opened up to him. It was always like that.

Eventually, she finally found the words to tell him what happened, as usual:

“Today… Ethan Hudson was taken.”

“The preeclampsia patient’s baby?” - she nodded to his question.

“Dolores… both her parents are gone and she didn’t have any siblings… and the kid’s father is out of scene. After a week in NIUC, he was finally discharged today and an adoption social worker came to take him. I’m glad that he’s alive and healthy, but…” - her frown deepened. - “He’s all alone. He’ll never get to grow up with the love of his mom… It’s not fair…” - she cut short in sobs.

"Hey, hey, hey." - Rei felt one of his strong arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer. Bryce didn't seem to care that her tears wetted his uniform. - "It's okay. He's going to be okay."

She sobbed for a few minutes, letting it all out, Bryce patiently rubbing her back up and down with his warm hand in a comforting move.

“And how are things with Dr. Ramsey, by the way?” - Bryce asked when she finally calmed down. He knew Rei had a rough start with the more experienced doctor.

“It’s getting better.” - she answered, wiping her tears off. - “He’s a good mentor.”

“I heard about this competition between the medical interns to know who’ll be Dr. Ramsey’s junior fellow in the diagnostics team.” - she nodded, with her forehead still laying on her knees. - “It must be feeling like a war zone between you.”

“You have no idea.” - she let out a heavy sigh. - “Everybody is this close to get into each other’s throats. People are working like crazy, competing to see who’s attending the more patients and all. I’ll be honest, it would be a great opportunity become Dr. Ramsey’s junior. But… I don’t know. I wish we didn’t have to fight like this. We should be helping curing people because that’s our profession, not because we want a promotion.”

“You’re one of a kind, Rei.” - Bryce murmured softly, and the woman immediately felt her cheeks flushing. Thankfully, it was dark in there and he couldn’t see her face. Well, that was what she hoped. - “And you know, it’s never too late to switch to the surgical interns team.”

Rei Sato laughed for the first time that day. She lifted her head and looked at him.

“Why are you always trying to get me to switch sides, Lahela? I’m not leaving internal medicine. If Jackie hear this, you bet she’ll beat you—”

“Maybe because I want to see you more frequently.” - he said softly, and Rei shut her mouth immediately. He had a serious expression on his face. Unconsciously, she held her breath when his hand brushed a strand of hair off her face.

Their faces were just inches apart when they suddenly heard the P.A. System’s voice echoing through the building. It was for none of them.

She immediately pulled out, her heart beating fast. The mood was gone.

Rei felt her face getting hotter by the memory of Bryce's face just inches from hers that afternoon, his big and warm hand cupping her face.

“You’re kidding me. You like that surfer bro?” - Jackie’s words immediately hit her.

Yes, she liked him. A lot.

There was something about that "scalpel jockey" - like Jackie would call him - that drew her to him. His dark, playful and magnetic eyes. That smirk… that at times would make her want to punch him and others kiss him until her head got dizzy. And god, that hair… And he was so ridiculously hot too.

But it wasn't just physical. She really liked his personality. She greatly admired that cocky and carefree attitude of his. She wished she had all that confidence and spontaneity.

She was so drunk on him. She was falling for Bryce Lahela.

It's not just all physical

I'm the type who won't get oh so critical

So let's make things physical

I won't treat you like you're oh so typical

“Oh I know! You could invite him to our apartment’s housewarming party on Saturday night!” - Sienna clasped her hands together, bringing Rei back. Uh, for how long she'd been zoning out?

“That… that would be nice. If he could go, I mean.” - Rei murmured and her friend nodded, with a satisfying grin.

“It’s settled! Now go talk to him!”

Rei looked down to the table, her eyes resting on the last tequila shot left untouched. Maybe she should have one more shot to boost her self-esteem. Just in case.

She drank the tequila in one swing - there, that should be enough - and left the booth she was sharing with Sienna and walked decisively towards the surgical interns, under her friend’s shouts of encouragement, with renewed confidence.

You got this, Rei.

I want you close, I want you

I won't treat you like you're typical

Tagging: @brightpinkpeppercorn @pixelburied @nyastarlight @endlessflame @awkwardalbatros @choicesarehard @strangelycami @stillafictosexual @queen-among-writers @indiacater @worldofchoices @radlovedreamer @fairydustandsarcasm @choicesthot @blackreddish @lilyofchoices (if you would like to be tagged in upcoming Bryce x MC fanfics, tell me!)

#bryce lahela #bryce x mc #bryce x rei #open heart #playchoices #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #playchoices fanfiction #choices fanfiction

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enjoltaire-is-canon · 5 years

Text

Rise, Like the Sun, and Burn

Screw it, here’s the the chapter.

***

A Stunt In Crete:

“That’s sick,” muttered Enjolras, a look of disgust etched into his face at the sight in front of him. There were thousands of stands surrounding the labyrinth, each made of shiny silver that had fancy designs engraved into it. Dark green vines laced each stool’s legs, adding a rich colour to the cool silver. Each row was placed higher than the one before it to provide the audience with a perfect view of the event.

“It is,” agreed Combeferre. “But remember, you’re here to figure out the structure of the place, where everything is and how it works. You can’t make anyone suspicious, Enjolras. Or else you won’t be able to help. Not now, not next year, not ever.”

As much as he didn’t want to, Enjolras agreed. He had gotten special permission from Zeus to attend this year. Gods weren’t usually invited in fear that they would get jealous of King Minos’s kingdom, all the beauties and mysteries in it, and end up taking over it. But he wasn’t afraid that one of them would intervene with the competition, no, he had Soteria cast spells on the labyrinth for that.

“When will the event start?” He asked, hoping to get started with everything soon.

Combeferre pulled back his sleeve to look at his watch before answering. “Ten past nine, about three hours till the horns sound.”

“Perfect,” grinned Enjolras, a plan already forming in his head.

“Courfeyrac!” Hissed Enjolras the moment his friend appeared.He was hiding in a shadowed alcove, the only spot not covered by the full length windows that formed one third of the hall. Courfeyrac double-checked that no one was around before slipping into the alcove. “Chief,” he greeted, and Enjolras couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the title, a smile threatening to break through.

He forced himself to regain his composure, and faced Courfeyrac. They were here for a reason, they can’t afford to get distracted. A chance like that may never come up again. “So?”

Courfeyrac seemed to sense the situation and sobered up. “Everyone is in their position. The maids in the kitchen, participants “- participants, as if they had a say in the matter!-” in the training room with the tutors and Minos with his counselors, probably for the grand opening. The servants’ path to the labyrinth is clear and should remain so for the next two hours, but you should come out half an hour before that because that’s when the audience start to file in, they’ll be able to see you.”

Enjolras nodded grimly. “I wish we had come earlier,” he muttered.

“We’re lucky we got to come at all,” replied Courfeyrac with the same grave tone.

True, he thought. Out loud, he said. “And Combeferre?”

“He managed to sneak into the prep room to check out what weapons the participants are supplied with. I’ll be standing guard at the entrance and I’ll flash you if anyone passes by. I just you wish you’d let one of us come with you.”

Enjolras shook his head. “It’s too dangerous, you two have already sacrificed too much for me, and if we get caught…” He shook his head. “I can’t ask more of you.”

“We love you, Apollo.” Said Courfeyrac, using his much hated name. “But if you think we’re willing to sacrifice that much for you …” The black curled man smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s for the cause, remember?”

“Of course,” echoed Enjolras, not finding it in himself to fake a smile.

“Stay safe,” said Courfeyrac, squeezing his shoulder. “And remember, I’m two flashes away. Oh, I almost forgot,” the brunet took off the backpack slung over his shoulder and handed it to Enjolras. He didn’t need to say what was inside it.

He threw his friend a grateful smile before stepping out of the shadows and into the sun-lit hall. He strode confidently across the vast space and towards the gate on the other side, acting like he owned the place. A tip he’d picked up from the various times he had snuck into another god’s court as a kid, too young to be recognised by the servants as another god’s offspring.

The path to the labyrinth was empty, just like Courfeyrac had promised. With every step he took he felt excitement bubble up inside him. They had been discussing this for years, but had only been able to get permission to attend this year, and it had been only for the three of them, the rest of their hadn’t been allowed to come, no matter how much he argued with his father. If they had come their chances of succeeding would be higher, but then again, they were lucky to be here at all.

As he came closer to the labyrinth, however, his confidence started to fade. How was he supposed to face a Minotaur four times his height and eight his width? And what if he got killed before he had time to figure out anything? Then he would’ve just wasted his friends’ time and given them the trouble of explaining why he has been found dead in the middle of the labyrinth. No, he had to make it through this.

He turned left, following the instructions Combeferre had given him this morning, and found himself facing a plain wooden door that he knew to be the back entrance to the labyrinth. He allowed himself a moment to gather his courage before opening the door and stepping in, closing the door gently beside him as to not attract unwanted attention. He found himself standing in a dark hallway with a soft glow at the end. Curious but scared, he continued down the tunnel -if you could call it that- and saw that it led directly into the labyrinth.

Perfect.

Abandoning his fear and second-thoughts, he took out the labyrinth map Combeferre had given him this morning and set down the path, magically producing a trail of light behind him that only he will be able to see. He owed it to his friends to find the Minotaur.

The walk through the maze was surprisingly smooth, but then again, he shouldn’t be surprised. The creatures aren’t released till a quarter of an hour before the horns sounded. And even then, these creatures weren’t the problem, almost all the competitors were able to get through them without a notable injury. No,it’s the Minotaur that was deadly. How were a bunch of children expected to outlast it? The thing was literally half man- half bull.

He walked in silence for another fifteen minutes before he started hearing the Minotaur. He’d hoped it’d be asleep, but when was luck ever on his side? After a few minutes, he started to see the Minotaur's shadow, so he stopped and took off the backpack Courf had given him. Opening it, he saw what he already knew would be inside it. Smiling, he took out the extra large sheaf and slung it over his shoulder before reaching for the bow. He then threw the empty backpack on the grass, and concentrated on it for a moment. The bag burst in flames that burned nothing but the silk. Once he was sure that there was nothing but ash left, he resumed his path.

Five minutes after he’d continued his way, a golden flash appeared in the air, distracting him for a moment. He had to suppress a smile at the sight, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind the warm feeling that spread inside him. It was nice to know that his friends had his back, that they’ll always be there, no matter how much he pushed them away. Just then, a movement caught his eye. Backing into an alcove formed buy a bush and a tree, he took an arrow from the sheaf, placing in it in the bow instinctively.

And he wasn’t a second too early.

Before him, the Minotaur had risen, it’s ugly roars filling the air. The beast was swinging it’s fury arms upwards, shielding his eyes from the sun as he searched the labyrinth. Enjolras knew that it was ten minutes to eleven -being the sun god and all-, meaning that the Minotaur should be asleep, he’s not to be woken up before half past eleven. He also knew that the sun shouldn’t be this strong that early in the morning, but the Minotaur was scaring him, he can’t control it. The beast was obviously looking for something, or rather someone. And considering that Enjolras was the only one in here, he knew without a doubt who the creature was looking for.

He had two choices; wait for it to find him, or attack it first. He quickly contemplated the choices in his head and decided on the latter. He might not stand a chance if the Minotaur saw him, no matter how skilled he was. So he shot the arrow swiftly and pulled another from his sheaf, slipping further into the shadows as the Minotaur turned to his direction, the arrow in it’s arm a dead give-away.

He’d hoped that it wouldn’t have to come to this, because then it would be obvious that someone had been there, that he had been there. He managed to squeeze between two bushes and come out from the other side, cursing his inability to use a spear or a javelin all the while. He quickly shot another arrow from his new spot -striking the beast in the chest, but barely managing to draw out any ooze- before moving somewhere else. He continued doing that for the next five minutes, shooting an arrow and moving into another spot before the Minotaur spotted him. Every last arrow struck home, but just over half of them were able to draw pus, and even less caused any injury at all. He was running out of arrows fast -he hadn’t expected to need to use them, so he’d packed just over a hundred- and as he was shooting his second to last one, the beast spotted him.

He ran without a second thought, slipping between every bush, the arrow well out of his mind. At some point, a strong odor filled the air, causing him to get a little nauseous, but he ignored it in favor of running for his life. The further he ran the stronger the smell became, until he couldn’t stand it anymore, so he slipped between two trees, breaking the pattern he’d been following.

That proved to be the worst mistake of his life.

The Minotaur was standing in front of him, his looming figure more threatening up close. He was sure that the other people on the island had noticed the Minotaur's movement, and were probably calling for backup. He picked up the last arrow, but before he could slide it into the bow, the Minotaur spotted him and leaned down, engulfing him in its crushing grip. He tried to fight but the smell was making him dizzy. He felt the bow and arrow fall from his as the Minotaur raised him. It roared in his face before throwing him out of the labyrinth.

The next few moments were a blur.

The rushing wind was deafening in his ears, but that was all he was able to register before he felt himself bounce against something electrical and fall to the ground with a thud. He immediately felt a hand grab him and got to his feet, coming face-to-face with Courfeyrac. His friend looked ashen, but before he had time to say or do anything, Courfeyrac pulled him and ran towards a field surrounding a beaten up tower.

“Where are we going!?!” He cried as he tried not to stumble over his own feet. He hadn’t had time to catch his breath from the fall and now Courfeyrac was running like the devil himself was on their tail -which, frankly speaking, wasn’t all that unimaginable.

“What’s going on?” He cried as he pulled his hand back and caught up with his friend.

“I’ll explain later,” cried Courfeyrac back, not turning to look at him.

They soon reached the beaten down tower and Courfeyrac slid behind it, pulling Enjolras in with him.

“Okay, will you explain what’s going on?” He hissed. He had been too scared to look back, but hadn’t heard or smelled anything. Meaning that whoever or whatever they were in danger from wasn’t in that much of a rush to get them.

“I will,” said a voice from his right and he looked up to see Combeferre appear from behind a tower’s curve. “But first-”

“No buts,” he said firmly. As much as he loved his friends, he wasn’t going to follow them blindly, now when they were clearly in danger and he was the reason they were here.

Combeferre sighed, but agreed. He knew a lost cause when he saw one. “There had been a change in the plan last night, and I didn’t find out about it until after you entered the labyrinth.” -Enjolras felt his heart drop at that-”They plan on starting everything half an hour earlier, hence the minotaur’s activeness.”

“I tried to send you a signal,” continued Courfeyrac, “but I only had time to send you one flash before they set the hell-hound on me.I lost it before you came-”he snorted at that-” but I wasn’t willing to take chances.”

He was confused now. “Wait, why were they chasing you?”

Courfeyrac looked sheepish. “About that… Apparently, there was a guard at the viewing towers that I overlooked.”

Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s not your fault.” And he meant it.

But Courfeyrac shook his head. “It is.”

“It-”

“We don’t have time for your little antics,” said Combeferre sharply, cutting them off. “We have to figure out how to get into this tower, it looks abandoned and that’s probably the last place they expect Zeus’s son and his minions to go to.”

He wanted to tell them that they weren’t his minions , but a voice cut them off.

“You have a better chance of returning to your daddy unscathed than entering here.” Said someone from above the tower.

He took a couple of steps backward in order to see who was above the- No, the voice was coming from within the tower. There was a grinning dark-haired man with curls more unruly than Courfeyrac’s and a slight stubble.

“Who are you?” He asked, craning his neck to look up at the man.

“No one,” he replied simply. “And I stand by what I said earlier. You have a better chance of returning to Zeus unharmed than entering this tower.

“And why do you say that?”

“Because we’ve been trying to get out of here for years.” Said an older man, appearing beside the brunet.

He frowned. “And why are you here?”

That caused the younger man to laugh, a hollow sound with no mirth behind it. “You’re better off not knowing.”

He wasn’t going to argue with them right now. “Listen, we need a place to hide in for a couple of minutes. Can you help us? We’ll return the favour, I promise.”

The older man snorted. “I don’t doubt that.”

But the other man rolled his eyes. “What part of we’ve been trying to get out of the goddamn place for years didn’t you understand?”

Enjolras wasn’t giving up easily. “You’ve been trying to get out from the inside , what about the other way round?”

The brunet looked like he wanted to pull his hair out, but the older man placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let them try,” he said. “They’re more than us. If they manage to get in, then we’re free. If not…” He shrugged. “Well, they’re the ones getting harmed.”

Just then, Courfeyrac appeared at Enjolras’s side. “What do you mean we’re the ones getting harmed?” He shouted at the men. “Will we get trapped in there with you?”

“No, but Minos will get you, and trust me, it won’t be pretty.”

Courfeyrac frowned, but Combeferre -did he apparate here?- shook his head. “I say we take our chances.” He muttered. “It’s not like we have any other options.”

Enjolras was reluctant to agree. “Okay, how do you suggest we get in there?”

“You’re Hecate’s son,” Said Courfeyrac, turning to Combeferre. “Can’t you make the bricks magically part or something?”

Combeferre shook his head, a bitter smile appearing on his face. “She took away my powers, remember?”

Courfeyrac went red in the face. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot.” He muttered, clearly embarrassed.

Combeferre shook his head. “It’s okay. Let us focus on this.”

“I’ve got an idea,” said Enjolras, grabbing the attention of his friends. “We could-”

He was cut off by a bark from behind the tower. “I saw them go there,” cried a voice, unmistakably a guard's.

Enjolras paled. “We don’t have time,” he muttered. “Let’s get out of here.”

“There is a pathway that leads to the dungeon underneath the tower,” said the younger man from above, causing Enjolras to whip his head upwards.

“Why didn’t say that earlier?” He snapped.

The man shrugged. “They’re going to search the place, trust me. It’ll only buy you five minutes if you’re lucky. It’s disconnected from the tower though, you can't get through it from here. You have to go down the hill over there”-he pointed to a hill ninety feet away-”you’ll find a statue in the valley there. Pull at it’s left hand. An opening will appear in the ground, go through it. You can close it and open it the same way from underground.��

He looked up at the brunet gratefully. “Thank you,” he said with all the sincerity he could muster.

But he just smiled crookedly. “Anything for you, Apollo.”

The blond scowled, but Courfeyrac grabbed his arm and pulled him along with him before he could say anything else. Just as they started running, a javelin was shot, it passed between them, narrowly missing their ears.

Enjolras looked over his shoulder as he kept running and a dozen guards chasing them, throwing javelins left and right. “We have to fight back,” he cried at Combeferre -who was a couple of feet ahead them- and Courfeyrac.

“We can’t!” Cried Combeferre back, “We don’t have any weapons on us.”

“But we have to slow them down,” he argued. “Or else going to the dungeon won’t buy us anytime.”

He couldn’t see Combeferre’s expression, but Courfeyrac looked like he was considering it. “You have a point,” he said at least. “But how?”

Enjolras grinned, coming to a halt. “I have an idea. But first do you have a mirror?”

His friends had stopped with him, though Combeferre was still ahead of them. “I do,” Said Courfeyrac warily, pulling out a hand mirror from his front pocket. “How- oh!” Realization dawned on him.

He smirked. “Yeah.”

He took the mirror and opened it, turning to face the guards -who were a couple of feet behind them. He twisted the mirror so that one side was facing skywards and the other guards. He concentrated all his power on the sun, willing it to shine brighter. The rays that reflected off the mirror, accompanied by the sudden increase in heat, told him that he had achieved his goal. The guards shrieked in sudden agony as the light their eyes, blinding them for -hopefully- a few minutes.

He pocketed the mirror and turned to his friends. “Come on,” he said, and they resumed their running.

They were climbing up the hill now, but when Combeferre stopped when they reached the top. “It’s faster if we roll downwards,” he said as he laid down, all business like.

Courfeyrac was grinning as he followed suit. Sighing, but knowing that his friend had a valid point, Enjolras layed down along with them.

“On three,” said Combeferre. “One… Two..”

Courfeyrac rolled down before Combeferre could say three. Cursing, he followed suit, leaving no option for Enjolras.

He was the last to reach the valley, and found that Courfeyrac had already opened the entrance. “It’s a slide,” said the brunet gleefully.

“Courfeyrac,” he hissed. “Can you be serious for a moment?”

“Don’t be a fun-spoiler,” said Courfeyrac with a grin before sliding downwards.

“It’s now or never,” muttered Combeferre before following suit.

With a last look over his shoulder, Enjolras followed his best friends.

The slide was cool beneath him, gently lowering him into darkness. As soon as he hit the ground, the entrance above him slid shut, leaving them in utter darkness.

“So what now?” Asked Combeferre, echoing Enjolras from earlier.

“Hold on,” muttered Courfeyrac. He had the air of a man concentrating on something, so no one spoke. After a moment, a burst of light erupted from Courfeyrac’s hand, creating a small pool of light around them.

After his eyes adjusted, Enjolras saw that Courfeyrac had lit a twig. “Huh, guess being the son of Hephaestus does pay off,” said Enjolras.

Courfeyrac’s face hardened. “There is nothing wrong with my father,” he said firmly. “I’d do anything to get rid of my mother’s looks.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it,” said Enjolras, “I-”

Courfeyrac shook his head, “No, I’m sorry. I over reacted.”

“You didn’t-”

“You two can continue later,” said Combeferre, stopping them mid-bicker once again. “Remember, we don’t have much time.”

They both nodded grimly and started walking down the tunnel they found themselves in along Combeferre, exploring as they racked their minds for a plan.

“We have to get out of this island,” said Combeferre.

Courfeyrac wolf-whistled. “Hear, hear.”

Combeferre rolled his eyes and Enjolras was torn between grinning at his best friends or rolling his eyes. They’ve been dancing around each other for ages, he wished they would just snog each other senseless already.

“Can’t you just fly us out of here?” Asked Courfeyrac, turning to Enjolras.

He shook his head. “The other gods have probably noticed what’s going on by now, my father is, without a doubt, beyond enraged right now. I’d rather not take my chances. Combeferre…” He looked up at his friend hopefully. “You can control the wind,” he said. Can’t you fly us back to Olympus?”

“I can,” Started Combeferre. “Theoretically…” He sighed. “I’ve never tried flying people before, let alone myself. I don’t know if I can do it.”

“It’s our only choice,” said Enjolras. “Unless you have any other plans.”

Combeferre sighed. “No, I don’t. But can you have something to back us up if we fell? Maybe it’ll help me fly us.”

“I can convince Poseidon to have our back,” he said slowly. “But I wouldn’t put much faith in him.”

“You can sacrifice something to him.” Said Courfeyrac.

“Huh?”

“You can sacrifice something to him, convince him to really back us up if something happened.” He repeated slowly.

Enjolras was silent for a moment as he flipped the thought over in his head. But there was not much to think about, really. It was a take it or leave situation. “Okay,” he agreed. “But one of us will have to sneak into the kitchen.”

“What!?!” His friends exclaimed in unison.

He sighed. “There isn’t much we can sacrifice here, but my uncle has always had a soft spot for coffee. I say we give it to him as a tribute, burn it or something.”

“I can do it,” said Courfeyrac at once.

Enjolras nodded. “Great. But we need to get our hands on some weapons before we go out to the open again.”

Combeferre shook his head. “The shore is close, I saw it from the palace this morning. If the guards haven’t come here yet, this means that they think we ran to someplace or another. The clearing should be... Well, clear.”

“Okay, you go there, Courfeyrac goes to the kitchen, and I’ll go back to the tower.” He ordered, finally regaining his position as a leader.

“The tower?”

He shrugged. “I can’t leave these two men, they clearly have no means of getting out.”

“You don't know anything about them,” argued Combeferre. “They could’ve lead the last attack on Olympus for all you know.”

But Courfeyrac was on his side. “No, he’s right. There’s something awfully familiar about these men-not in a bad way-, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

Enjolras smiled at that. “And if they did lead the last attack on Olympus… Well, that’s just another reason to bring them along.”

Combeferre held up his hands in defeat, recognising a lost war when seeing it. “Fine, but you should all be at the shore in half an hour.”

“Okay,” the two agreed in unison.

“And I suggest we hurry.” Continued Courfeyrac. “This twig isn’t going to last much longer, and I don’t have anything else to burn.”

“We just have to find some weapons,” said Enjolras. “Or make makeshift ones, anything.”

“Let’s continue walking,” suggested Combeferre, “maybe we’ll find something once we get to the actual dungeon.”

“Okay, but hurry.” Muttered Courfeyrac, looking at the twig worriedly.

After a couple of minutes the tunnel finally widened out to an immense space -not that they could see it, but the air felt open, if a little humid. The twig was dangerously close to burning out now and Courfeyrac was close to tears.

“Hold on,” he muttered. “If we don’t find anything here in a minute, we’ll go back up, I promise.”

Courfeyrac nodded, but didn’t say anything.

They walked a few more meters before a sharp glint caught Enjolras’s eye. “There,” he cried, pointing in the direction the glint had come from. “Courfeyrac point the torch there.”

Courfeyrac did, and the moment the light hit the intended space a grin broke out on all their faces. Before them was a collection of weapons big enough to arm a small army, if somewhat poorly. But as they got closer, the smile faded from Enjolras’s face. The pile held every weapon someone could dream of; javelins, spears, knives, swords, everything except a bow and an arrow.

“There is no bow,” said Combeferre, coming to the conclusion a moment later.

“I realised,” he said coolly.

“Let’s not waste time,” said Courfeyrac quickly. “Enjolras, I’m sorry, but you’re terrible with all the weapons, and you’re more prone to hurting yourself than the enemy with them. Take a knife to defend yourself with it if necessary, but don’t use it unless it’s an absolute necessity. We can’t be sure if Asclepius will be willing to help after the stunt we’d just pulled.”

Enjolras scowled, but took a knife as instructed. Courfeyrac grabbed two knives and a spear, Combeferre following suit. As Courfeyrac made to turn round, Combeferre stopped him. “Wait,” he said and turned around to grab two more knives. “Give these to the men you’re planning on rescuing.”

Enjolras took them without a comment and they continued their way upwards.

“Goodluck,” said Combeferre, squeezing their shoulders in turn.

The clearing had been surprisingly empty, not that they’re complaining, but that didn’t mean they weren’t worried. They knew for a fact that no one will let them off easily, Zeus’s son or not, and the calm only increased their nerves.

“You too,” answered Courfeyrac with a small, apprehensive smile.

“Be careful,” said Enjolras.

Just as they were about to turn -Courfeyrac and Enjolras in a direction and Combeferre in another- Courfeyrac grabbed Combeferre and squeezed him in a tight hug. “Be careful,” he whispered, “but in the silence surrounding them, his voice was perfectly audible. “If things get dangerous, then abandon everything, you’re more important.”

Enjolras smiled and turned around to give them a moment. He gazed at the tower, a plan already forming in his head. He could climb the tower and help the men get down, but he didn’t have any rope on him and doubted that there was one within a hundred meter radius. Meaning he had to burn the tower down. But how was he supposed to do that without harming the men? This left him with one option; the vines.

They were surrounded by plants from every side, so he could make one of them grow vines long enough to surround the tower. Then the men could climb down them. Perfect. Now if only he could convince Fortuna to side with him…

“You ready?”

He looked up to see Courfeyrac grinning beside him, cheeks flushed.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he smirked.

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes. “Come on, you have a princess to rescue.”

“And you a kitchen to rob.”

Courfeyrac laughed, he was clearly in a good mood. Nothing could bring him down, not even a murderous king with a Minotaur at his disposal. “I’d say I have it better.”

Enjolras seriously disagreed, but didn’t want to spoil his mood.

“So is there anything that uncle of yours fancies? Or will common coffee do?”

Enjolras shrugged. “Just get him the fanciest thing you can find, and get as much as you can carry without slowing down.”

They soon reached the tower and said their goodbyes. As Enjolras stepped into the area they were in earlier, the young man greeted him.

"Back so soon, Apollo?”

Enjolras scowled. “I’m here to show you that I keep my promises,” he said. “Can you climb vines?”

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, we can.” Said the older man, appariating beside the brunet. “But I must warn you, the moment the king realises we’re gone, he’ll set his guards after us and whoever helped us escape. Zeus’s son or not.”

“They guards are already on our tail,” muttered Enjolras as he closed his eyes, pooling his concentration on the plants around him. At first, nothing happened, but then he felt the plants expand around him, wrapping themselves around the tower.

When he opened his eyes, the tower was wrapped in dark green vines, all going in one direction in order to make the descent downwards easier. Satisfied, he looked up at the men who were staring the vines in awe.

The younger one, however, recovered quickly. “You could’ve just given me a heads up, you know. So I could grow my hair”-he shook his head so that his curls were impossible to ignore-”and you could play hero and rescue us.”

“Grantaire,” hissed the older man, elbowing him.

The man -Grantaire- turned to the man with a raised eyebrow. “Father.”

So that was his father.

“If you had long hair,” said Enjolras. “Your father would’ve been able to climb down.”

“Fun spoiler,” muttered the dark-curled man -Grantaire.

Enjolras ignored him and turned to the father. “I suggest you started climbing down now, sir,” he said. “I don’t know how much time we have left.

The man looked shocked for a moment when Enjolras called him sir, but he didn’t prone on it.

“Grantaire, you go first.” Said the man.

Grantaire seemed to sober up at that. “Are you sure?” He asked. “We can go down together.”

His father smiled but shook his head. “I’m sure,” he said.

Grantaire looked like he was about to argue but his father nudged him again and he obeyed. As the brunet climbed downwards, the father turned to Enjolras. “I have iron wings,” he said. “I don’t know how you plan to get us off the island, but I’m sure they’ll be of some help.”

“How many do you have?”

“Five-”

“Five!?!” He exclaimed. This was perfect, they were five in total, if each took a pair, and Combeferre blew the wind then they wouldn’t need to depend on Poseidon.

“Yes, five. But none of them are perfected, some have slightly tilted wings, others too little feathers. Though they can be of assistance .”

Well, that was a disappointment, but it was something nonetheless. “Bring them along,” he said. “We can make use of them.”

“Alright, but how should carry them down?”

He had a point.

“Apollo, here I come.” Said a gleeful voice.

He looked up to see Grantaire a few meters from the ground- was he going to throw himself!?!

He quickly took hold of a vine and climbed swiftly, wrapping an arm around Grantaire’s waist as soon as he was within reach. “Are you suicida?,” he hissed. He slowly got them both down and the moment Grantaire’s feet hit the ground he turned to him with a grin. “I wasn’t actually going to throw myself, you know. I just wanted to give you a chance to play hero.”

“Sure,” muttered Enjolras before returning to the idiot’s father.

“Do you think you can throw them?” He asked, craning his neck to look at the man.

He shook his head. “What if they break?”

“Since you’re obviously so good at climbing,” started Grantaire from beside behind him. “Why don’t you go get them down one by one.”

Enjolras scowled. “We’re short on time.”

“Well, it’s certainly more efficient -time wise- than standing here and wondering how to perform the trick all day.”

What’s with people outsmarting him today? “Fine,” he hissed through gritted teach. He took hold of a vine and started climbing.

“I’ll wear one on my down,” said Grantaire’s father once he was halfway up the tower. “So that’s one trip down. Leaving us with three, we’ll alternate with getting them down.”

“Good idea,” he agreed. If he was completely honest, he’d just realised that he hadn’t planned on how to get the wings down. He’d just wanted to prove Grantaire wrong.

“I’ll help you too,” said Grantaire. “You know, to save energy and all.”

Enjolras had to seriously restrain himself from banging his head against the wall. “Why couldn’t he have just gotten one down with him?”

“Because my father hadn’t mentioned them yet, dear Apollo.”

It was only after Grantaire had replied he’d realised that he’d spoken out loud. “Whatever,” he muttered.

Once he was on top of the tower he climbed into the window and Grantaire’s father handed him a pair of iron wings. “They’re heavy now,” said the man. “Though they will be feather-light once life has been blown into them.”

“And how is that done?” Asked Enjolras as fastend the wings and turned to the window once again.

“Through wind. We’ll just have to wait for a breeze, nothing strong. And at this time of the year, it shouldn’t be rare.”

“A friend of mine can control the wind actually,” said Enjolras as he took hold of vine once again. “So that shouldn’t be a problem at all.”

The man flashed him a grin. “Great.”

Up close, Enjolras could see the striking similarity between Grantaire and his father. They had the same hair colour -though his father’s was flat-, same eye colour and same grin -though his father’s wasn’t sarcastic.

Five minutes later, everyone was out of the tower and making their way back to the shore. They all had a pair of wings strapped on and, in Enjolras and Grantaire’s father’s case, another pair in their hands.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” said Enjolras as they neared the shore, stopping to pull out two knives from his pocket. “Incase we get attacked.” He said, handing a knife to each of the two men.

They both took them with a quite thank you -in Grantaire’s father’s case,at least, whom he really needed to find his name. Grantaire took it with a raised eyebrow. “And what makes you think we know how to throw a knife?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s the only thing available for now, take it or leave it.”

Grantaire looked like he was about to argue, but Enjolras was saved by their arrival at the shore. Combeferre had already lit the fire and was waiting for them, if somewhat impatiently. He opened his mouth to greet him when he felt a sharp slap on his back. He turned to shout at Grantaire -thinking it was him- but was greeted by Courfeyrac, who looked like he’d just escaped the grim reaper. Which, quite frankly, wouldn’t be that much of a surprise.

“What happened?” He asked, taking the coffee bags from him and throwing them to Combeferre.

“Hellhounds,” panted Courfeyrac. “Hydras. Guards, with aflamed weapons.”

Enjolras didn’t need any further explanation. He turned to order to Combeferre to burn the coffee, but his friend was already on the task, so he turned to the rest. “Go to Combeferre,” he ordered. “He’ll get the wings started.”

They obliged with no comment. He then turned to Courfeyrac, holding out the pair of wings he’d been carrying to him. “Put these on,” he said. “They’ll help in the escape.” Courfeyrac looked confused, but to his credit, didn’t comment.

He then turned towards the sea and closed his eyes, praying silently. Please accept our tribute, uncle, and have our back if our plans fail. He didn’t feel a sense of peace spread through him, but then against, he hadn’t expected to.

"Enjolras!”

He turned to Combeferre, but then heard a roaring sound behind him. He turned to see two hellhounds pounding towards him, fangs bared. Behind them, there was a hell-hound with at least eight heads, with every and each last one focused on Enjolras.

He immediately turned on his heels and turned towards his friends as he reached for the knife in his pocket that he knew would be of no use. The wings on his back, however, slowed him down, and a hell-hound caught up with him, pouncing on his back and pinning him to the ground.

He heard a couple of voices call out his name, but his mind was focused on the knife in his hand, currently trapped between his body and the sand. The beast’s breath was warm on his back, sending shivers down his body. It didn’t look like it wanted to harm him, just to hold him captive. With an effort, he managed to wriggle out the knife and slash one of the dog’s paws.

It let out a cry of agony, distracted for a moment. Leaping at the chance, Enjolras immediately stood up, throwing the beast off his back. But it took hold of his shirt before he was out of its reach. He ignored its hold on him, willing himself to move in the opposite direction. He then heard a ripping sound and knew that it was his shirt, if the sudden lightness was anything to go by.

He ran to his friends, who were gathered a couple of meters away from the shore. The moment he was within reach, Combeferre told them to make a beeline for the sea on three.

“One,” he said. “Two...three!”

They all set out on a run at the signal, and just as they were about to reach the sea, Enjolras felt himself being lifted, a cool wind blowing against his back. He looked at the others to see that they were with him, and threw Combeferre a grin, who smiled shyly.

Their happiness, however was short lived.

A spear flew past Enjolras’s head, coming closer than the that was thrown at him this morning. He didn’t want to know what’ll happen with the next one.

Combeferre paled and closed his eyes, concentrating on something.

Another spear flew towards him, but he felt himself being pulled by someone before he had a chance to react. He struggled against his captor, trying to writhe out of his hold. He managed to loosen his hold on him when he was pushed to the side, his captor letting go of him. Confused, he turned to look at his captor- only to see Grantaire’s father falling to the sea, a spear buried in his chest.

“Dad!” Cried Grantaire, making a move to go after his father.

Enjolras grabbed him before he could do anything rash, wrapping his arms around his chest. “There’s nothing you can do, Grantaire.” He whispered. “I’m sorry.”

But Grantaire shook his head, struggling to get out of his grip. “Let me go,” he pleaded “I can save him.”

He only tightened his hold on him as his father splashed into the sea, disappearing without a trace.

Grantaire let out a cry of anguish. “Dad!” He screamed, struggling to get out of his grip more than ever. “He’s still alive, please, let me go after him.”

He shook his head silently as Grantaire broke down in sobs against him. As they drifted away from the island, one last bitter thought ran through his head; thanks a million, uncle.

#fanfiction #enjolras #grantaire #apollo #icarus #greek mythology au

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griffinblogsgw2 · 5 years

Note

1, 9, 15, 21, 22, 25, 29, 36, 38, 44, 47, 48, 49, and 50 for the delightfully wondrous Tora!!!

Tumblr ate my last answer so let’s try again.

This is gonna be a mile long…

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

Tora Zollun. He’s a sylvari so there’s no real lore reason for it - they just have names, they don’t choose em, ya?

I personally chose it because he was originally based on another character named Thunder Clarwin, but I was worried that if I named him that I’d feel pressured to play like that character. Bit silly I suppose. Anyway I named him Tora after a minor antagonist from Thunder’s story and mashed together a last name from a conlang I developed for that story. His name literally means Tree Blue Sun.

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

Yep.

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

He’s interested in it but he’s trash at cooking and most folks learn not to let him in the kitchen. He’s a living hazard.

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

Yes and depends. Tora can be childish and impatient, but generally with people he’s usually almost too patient? He does have one hellova temper and we’ve seen a bit of this in comic.

We haven’t seen him at his worst yet but… Wait till next episode.

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

He doesn’t really have favourites? He swears a lot though and usually if he’s at a point where he’s insulting someone, it’s likely personalized just for them. Bitching behind someone’s back isn’t generally his style.

If he’s gonna insult someone, it’ll be because they wronged him or his friends. He’s the kinda guy who gives back 10x what he’s given, get me?

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

Puns, bad Dad jokes, silly bs. Yes and yes.

29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective?

Protective. He’s a softie.

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

Man that’s general. Thieving, knifing, smooth talking, and fleeing? Also weapon and armor smithing. Good singer. Decent metal worker. Storyteller. He’s the theatrical artsy sort. Think that’s about it? Uh hobbies are mostly reading fiction and making art.

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

Uhhhh -points to Terin- that. Basically that?

Oh and I guess -points to Baya and all the brave charming heroes in his story books- those too.

Tora is someone who wants to be like the cool adventurers he sees in stories, but he also wishes he was stronger, more reliable, and not a general fuck up.

44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?

He’s usually pretty warm body temperature-wise so it’s the hotter climates he’ll wine about most.

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

Depends. If he feels like he has to behave to impress, he’ll be miserable, feel outta place and overall self-conscious and awful. He’s guaranteed to steal some alcohol and hide somewhere to sulk if that happens.

If there’s no pressure though, he’ll love it and will probably make whoever invited him regret it. The guests will be thrilled and amused with him at least…

Oh also suits are boring. Don’t expect him to wear anything standard to these kind of events.

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?

This might surprise you, but Tora’s introverted. He does better in small groups of friend parties - the real casual kind. And it depends on mood. If he’s got the energy for it, he’s the life of the party. If not, he’s sulking somewhere with booze.

He’s a disorganized mess, he’s usually just showing up to these things.

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

This is a tad spoilery but… There’s a series of daggers he has with metal roses on the hilts. They’ve been shown in the latest episode where Tora is packing supplies, and on this most recent page by his “corpse.” He made those. But they were made for someone else.

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

He did that honestly. Mostly took the clothes on his back, his weapons, a few rations, a notebook, an adventure book, and a few toiletries.

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purplesurveys · 5 years

Text

358

In the last year, have you...

Moved: No, I’ve lived in the same house for about a decade. Started a new job: Nope, and I don’t exactly plan to do so until after I graduate. Traveled to another country: Nah, not this year. Traveled to another continent: Most definitely not lmao, if ^ that’s already a no. Eaten sushi: So many times, my dude. Gab and I had sushi for our anniversary.

Been drunk: Yep. As recently as last Saturday. Been high: Never plan to. Been to the dentist: At the start of the year I think. We always get our teeth checked once a year. Bought a new car: Nah, still using my usual one and I never want to trade it for something else, at least while I’m still in college. Had a broken heart: Uh, sure. It sounds cheesy but yeah I’ve felt hurt here and there. Spent over $1,000 in one day: I’ve never even held that much money. Maybe my parents did this, but I haven’t. Kissed a stranger: As a demisexual, the prospect is terrifying. Haven’t done this. Finished a jigsaw puzzle: I don’t think I got to play with puzzles this year. Cooked or baked something from scratch: Yes!!! I’m glad to say I baked something this year! Angela, Hans, Rap, and I spontaneously decided to bake chocolate chip cookies when classes got suspended halfway through the day because of an incoming typhoon. Started a new relationship: No, still in the same relationship as I’ve been in in the last two years. Broken up with someone: Nope. Been broken up with: Nope. Been in the same relationship you were in last year: There we go. Explored a large city: I guess, in the few moments that I had the time. Been to a wedding: No but my mom was invited to a couple this year. I miss going to weddings :( Been to a funeral: Thankfully not. Been to a baby shower: I don’t think so, not this year. Held a baby: Earlier in the year. Angela’s mom (who works as a pediatrician) threw a party and some of her patients and their kids were invited, and one of the kids was a really chubby baby girl that I couldn’t help but hold. Seen a therapist: No, I’ve been putting it off for the longest time. Bought new furniture: My mom’s in charge of that, not me, so no. Made new friends: Sure, you always meet some new people in college. This year it was most notably new recruits in my org, like Tina and Kezhia. Called in sick to work/school: Haven’t we all... Deleted a social media account: I didn’t delete, just deactivate. I’m doing a massive social media detox this Christmas break because everyone’s happy and family-centric posts make me sicker this time of the year. Started a new hobby: Coloring came to me as an impulse hobby last month as Christmas had been approaching, and while I feel sad about flushing so much money in one go over coloring books and supplies, I’m still happy I made an active effort to look out for myself this year. This hobby’s a blassssssst so far. Met a famous person: I don’t think so, if I remember correctly haha. I was like 10 feet away from Paramore but I was too scared to volunteer myself for Misery Business. Went to a concert: I DID!!! I saw Paramore for the second time!!!!!! August 23rd. BEST night of my life, even if I went alone. I don’t know if I ever reported that here but the experience was amaaaaaazing. Best band ever. Traveled via train: The railway system in the Philippines is shit. No way am I voluntarily riding a train. Traveled via airplane: Yes, I went to Bataan over the Holy Week. Been on a road trip: Yes, my dad loves doing road trips so whenever he’s home, we do 1-3 of them. I also did a road trip with just Gab and I when we went to Nasugbu for my birthday. Donated to charity: Not really for charity since they’re sometimes sketchy, but I regularly give money and food to homeless people who knock on my window when I’m stuck in traffic. Been to a country club: Yeah, a few months ago. Went swimming: Many times. The weather this year was not exactly the most convenient, so we went to a LOT of beaches to cool down. Went surfing: Nah, I’m too afraid to try. My sister and parents have had a few lessons but my balance is mostly off haha. Went hiking: NOOOOOOOO UGH I miss hiking! I wish I’d get to do it next year. Had a gym membership: I don’t think I need one, so no I’ve never tried to apply for a membership. Had an argument with a friend: I mean, just with Gabie. I never had an argument with any of my other friends. Had a family reunion: Yeah...dad’s side. It was huge, we rented out a small hotel for it cos literally everyone from my paternal grandmother’s side was there. I was mostly stoked about the food and the couple of dogs that my relatives brought. Went for a walk in a park: This country doesn’t prioritize and maintain their parks, a damn shame. We go for walks at the mall - that’s more of the culture here. Been in the hospital: If I remember correctly, no. Attended a professional sporting event: No. The UAAP (our version of the NCAA) season this year was CRRRRAZY good though, but I never got to get tickets because acads consumed me throughout the semester. Earned a new degree or diploma: I’m in the process of getting one, but no I didn’t earn it this year. Been to a museum: I went back to Pinto this year with Aya, Laurice, Jo, Jum, and Luisa then had a drink atop Antipolo after. Been to an art gallery: Numerous ones with Gab. They pop up every now and then at the mall and we always go through them. Went camping: I was way too busy this year. Went fishing: I don’t like doing that :c Struggled with an eating disorder: No, I’ve never been diagnosed with such a disorder. Been in credit card debt: I don’t even have a credit card. Had new neighbors move in next door: Nope, the houses on either side of ours have long been uninhabited. Gotten drunk at a work party: At an org party, sure. Dyed your hair: Nope. But Gabie did, she had the ends of her hair dyed like a weird blondeish a few months ago. My sister also got brown dye delivered to the house a couple of days ago, so I should be expecting her look to change soon too. Gotten a manicure: Not a big fan of getting my nails painted. Been to a casino: I wouldn’t be allowed to get inside even if I wanted to haha. The one time I smoothly went inside was in 2016 when I was on my cruise trip. The only things I remember is that it the place was filled with flashing lights and everything was super colorful. Voted in an election: No elections happened this year. But we will have our midterm elections in 2019 and I intend to vote then. Shopped at a bookstore: SO MANY TIMESSSSS. Call 2018 the year I got obsessed with school supplies, cos I definitely went overboard with buying pad paper, highlighters, post-its, and, pens. Dined at a fancy restaurant: Many times with Gab. Sat in a sauna: I hate saunas and can’t comprehend how my mom enjoys it so damn much. It’s hot enough in Manila, why salivate at the thought of saunas??? R u ok??? Had a panic attack: Hahaha, I remember so many occasions. Attended a religious service: My family is Catholic, I get dragged to church every week. Been pulled over for speeding: I don’t think speeding is a thing here. People drive like death and I’ve never actually heard of someone getting pulled over for this reason. Stayed awake all night: It happens. Borrowed money from a friend or family member: Gabie lent me a thousand bucks (relax, that’s like $20). I was so short of money last week but I still had a bunch of Santa babies to give gifts to, so I went into a panic until she stepped in and lent me money. Lent money to a friend or family member: I give Gab money sometimes since she commutes from her dorm to my school, but I don’t ask for it back unless I really need the money. Been to an amusement park: LOL pass. I hate amusement parks. Gotten a new pet: No, I still have the same dumb dog. Had strep throat: My throat hurt like a bitch a few months ago. Had food poisoning: I don’t think so. Had the stomach flu: Sure. Binge-watched a show on Netflix: Friends and Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Shoveled snow: We don’t get snowwwww. Mowed a lawn: We don’t have a lawn. Bought a new computer: Nope, still have my same trusty laptop. Bought a new phone: My dad got me an iPhone 8 early in the year.

Worked out using a fitness tracker: I don’t work out. Eaten an entire pizza by yourself: Hehe. Felt an earthquake: I don’t think there were any recognizable ones this year. Taken out a loan: I’m a clueless 20 year old and I don’t know what this means, but I’m guessing no. Been prescribed antibiotics: Nope. Sold something on eBay: I don’t use eBay. Painted a room in your house: My control freak of a mom would never let us get away with that.

#survey #surveys

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fallinfor-youreyes · 6 years

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I'd like to request 6 & 13 for the drabble challenge with whatever ship strikes your fancy :)

6. “I just like proving you wrong”

13. “Looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a while”

These two fit so well together that I used them both. It got a little long so let’s just say I did two drabbles in one! :)

If there is one thing Rosaline does not understand, it’s howtenth graders go through her art supplies so fast. It is only the beginning of November, but allof her markers are dead or missing, her crayons a disgrace, and her coloredpencils so far sharpened, they are past the point of no return.

To make matters worse, she teaches history, and art suppliesare only used for projects, which so far have been pretty few.

And, she promised Juliet she would help out with thecheerleading teams homecoming poster making event tonight night, by supplyingthe art supplies, and the last thing she wants to do is let Juliet down. Whichmeans there is only one thing to do, and Rosaline would rather spend all of herallotted school supplies savings than go and speak to him. But she already used all her allotted savings for pencils andpaper and other things to make her classroom a little more accessible lastmonth.

It’s her lunch break, which she knows she shares with him, becausethey run into each other in the parking too often for her taste.

She steels herself and walks across the hall to the artroom. Where Benvolio Montague sits idly, munching on a grape and sketching inhis sketchbook.

He lifts his eyes to her slowly, and the polite questioninglook on his face melts into a glare.

“What do you want Capulet?” He snaps his book shut and leansforward, resting his head on his hands.

“I need supplies.” She says. She crosses her arms andrefuses to let him get to her. They had been rivals for quite some time.Classrooms directly across from each other, parking spots right next to each other.He would often loudly make fun of her class to his students, and in return, shewould take up some of his parking space.

It was petty, but they had been fighting for so long now,Rosaline can’t really remember why. But she does know that she isn’t going tobe the one to back down first.

“What kind of supplies?”

“Markers, crayons, pencils. I swear the 10thgraders are like kindergarteners sometimes the way they go through my stuff.”

Benvolio raises a single eyebrow. “What makes you think Iwill just hand over my supplies to you?”

Rosaline narrows her eyes. “Last May, I gave you all of myposter boards, large paper, and glue. You owe me. Said so yourself.”

“Shit.” Benvolio groans and leans back in his chair. “Iwould, but as you said, high schoolers tend to be like kindergarteners. I’veonly been doing painting projects with them or clay, because the school paysfor those. I’m out of the supplies you need.”

Rosaline sighs and tries to think. She doesn’t want to flakeon Juliet.

“What about the supply closest in the basement. When I washired they told me that whatever was in there was for my use. I pretty surethat it included art supplies.” She says. She personally had never been to thesupply closet, but maybe he had.

Benvolio laughs. “Are you asking for a death wish. There’s areason no one goes down there. Even the custodians don’t. I’m pretty sure thelast time someone was there was in the 80’s.”

“Are you saying it’s haunted, Montague?” She asks.

“No.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes at her. “I’m saying,according to all accounts the lights are all broken or barely working, thedoors get stuck all the time, and the supplies down there is so old it’sunusable. Plus, all the dust and the spiders.”

“I guess I’ll have to see for myself.” She says, spinningaway from him.

“Capulet, wait!” He catches her arm before she leaves hisclassroom, and Rosaline is so startled by it, she almost trips.

“Excuse me?”

“There’s only 20 minutes till the next period starts, and Idon’t want to have to go and find you when you’re late.” He drops her arm andtakes a step back.

“I can take care of myself, thank you.”

Benvolio holds up his hands and turns away from her,shutting his classroom door as he does.

“Miss. Capulet?” There’s a student standing at her door,papers in hand. “I was wondering if you could help me with my essay.”

He’s waiting for her outside of her classroom at the end ofthe day. She brushes past him, fully intent on ignoring him, but he easilyfalls into step next to her.

“Are you seriously going through with this?” He asks, as shepushes open the doors to the stairwell.

“Yes. You can disappear when you best see fit.” She says.

“Nah.” He rushes forward to get the door before she does. “Idon’t want your death on my head. And, I just like proving you wrong.”

Rosaline scoffs. “Proving me wrong! How?”

“When nothing good comes out of this trip, and we waste ourprecious Friday afternoon on a goose chase.”

“You weren’t invited.” She reminds him.

“You are my cousin’s girlfriend’s cousin. If anythinghappened to you, and Juliet finds out I knew, she would have my head on a stick.”He explains. They round the corner to the last set of stairs, and it’sinstantly darker.

The light near the door flickers. Benvolio wrinkles hisnose.

“It’s not too late to turn back you know.” He whispers.

“If I don’t get these markers, Juliet will have my head.”

Benvolio nods. “This endeavor makes a lot more sense now.”

Rosaline rolls her eyes and pushes the basement door open.

It’s dark, and the few lights that are working only show howmuch dust is in the air. There’s old lunch trays in the corner, an entire stackof broken desks and chairs, a bookshelf covered in grammar books from the 50’s.

Rosaline flicks the flashlight on her phone on, noting thatthere is zero service, and makes her way toward the closet labeled supplies.The door is heavy enough that it takes both of them to get it open, and inside,it’s like a different world. There’s shelves filled with various different supplies,from notebooks to art supplies to old deflated basketballs and footballs.

Rosaline, slightly in awe, moves into the room, and finds abox full of marker packs.

“Ha! I told you!” She says, spinning to face Benvolio, justin time to see the door swing shut.

The noise is so loud, it causes Benvolio to jump and dropthe tube of paint in his hand.

He slowly turns toward the door like its personally offendedhim, before snapping his eyes back to her.

“How much would you pay me right now to not tell you I toldyou so.” He asks, a wicked grin on his face.

“None, because you already said it.” She flashes him a smilebefore turning back to the shelf she was inspecting. Out of the corner of hereye, she watches him make his way back toward the door, and twist the knob,only for nothing to happen. He tries again, this time pushing his shoulderagainst the door, but it doesn’t budge. Rosaline sticks her head out from theshelves and watches him.

“You can stop fooling around now, Montague. I don’t need youacting like one of my tenth graders.” She says.

Benvolio stops and turns to her, but there’s no humor on hisface.

“It’s stuck.”

Rosaline rolls her eyes while walking toward him. “I said tostop fooling around.” She grabs the door knob and pushes, but the door doesn’t move.He presses his shoulder against the door and she follows suit, but nothinghappens.

And then, the panic sets in.

“You came with me so I wouldn’t ‘get hurt’ but now I’m goingto die! Locked in a room! With a Montague!” She screams, grabbing a book offthe closest shelf and whacking his arm with it. “Why didn’t you check the door!”

“Me! Capulet, why did insist on coming down here!” He glancesat his phone and tries to call someone, but the call doesn’t go through.

“Why did you insist on coming with me!” She says, takinganother step closer to him.

They are close now, close enough that when puffs air out ofhis nose it ruffles her hair. He takes a step back, and sighs. “I texted Romeobefore we left and told him we were coming down here, and if I didn’t contacthim in two hours, to send help.” He runs his hand through his hair, obviouslystill angry at her. “Looks like we are going to be stuck here for a while.”

She glares at him before grabbing a pack of markers andmarching to the other side of the room, where most of the old sports equipmentwas organized.

The markers miraculously work and are not half bad atcoloring when she tests them. She can hear Benvolio at the other side of theroom, but she ignores him, and instead decides to explore the room. She findsthe old cheerleading uniform and pompoms and grabs them, thinking they mightmake a nice addition to Juliet’s poster party for Homecoming.

She wanders through the stacks, almost in awe of all theforgotten things.

“There’s stuff in here older than when were in High School.”Rosaline says when she finds her way back to the front, no longer as angry asbefore.

Benvolio glances up at her from his spot on the floor, wherehe has some of the supplies laid out, various sketches and doodled paintings onsome of the papers surround him.

“We haven’t even reached out 10 year reunion yet, Capulet.Stop trying to make me feel old.” He pats the ground next to him, and she joinshim, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“Sorry about before. You know, yelling at you, and hittingyou with a book.” She says. She’s calmed down now, and the fact that he ishere, with her, is a little bit comforting. “And, I’m glad you are here. Andthat I’m not alone, stuck in this sort of creepy supply room by myself.”

Benvolio stops sketching.

And then he stands and walks away without so much of a word,and Rosaline would be lying if she said it didn’t hurt.

Rosaline sighs, and moves to collect the supplies she needsto restock her room and for Juliet’s girls to have enough for the posters, whenBenvolio comes back, brandishing one of the old football jerseys.

“This is the closest thing I could get to a white flag.” Hesays. He waves it in the air for a second, and then tosses it at her. “Truce?”

Rosaline catches the jersey, and smiles.

“I wouldn’t want to share my hallway with anyone else.” Hesays.

They spend the next hour and half talking, and laughing, andat one point, his arm brushes against hers, and Rosaline is suddenly veryscrewed because she might be getting a crush on her sworn rival. Which is veryhigh school, and almost makes her start to hate him again.

He’s just starting to show her some of his sketches when thedoor heaves open, and Rosaline can hear her cousin calling her name.

“Romeo! I found them!” Juliet leaps into Rosaline arms andsqueezes her tight. “Oh, I was so worried when Romeo told me about Ben’s text.Are you guys okay? What happened?”

Rosaline explains while she gathers her things and finallyescapes the supply closet, Benvolio close on her heels.

Romeo and Juliet say they will meet them by the car so theycan go and get their things before the poster party, and Rosaline feels likesomething has changed between her and Benvolio as they walk back to theirclassrooms.

“I proved you wrong.” She says, just before she turns awayfrom him to go into her own class.

“What?”

“You said, that we would not find anything useful, and itwould be a waste of our time. And I proved you wrong.”

“You did.” Benvolio says, taking two steps so he’s closer toher. “And what, Miss. Capulet, do you win for proving me wrong?” He asks. He’strying to be vision of cool and collected, but Rosaline can see the slightestbit of pink on his cheeks.

“Oh, I don’t know Mr. Montague. Dinner might be nice.”

His smile intensifies, and Rosaline’s stupid crush onlygrows.

“I’ll pick you up, at 7. Tomorrow?” He asks, and there’s abit of hope in his voice that makes her feel a little giddy.

“That sounds perfect.”

#rosvolio #ssc fic #still star crossed fic #still star crossed #openmouthwideye #my fic #lol whats a drabble #prompts #teacher au

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rainythefox · 5 years

Text

Deviant Heart (Detroit: Become Human Fanfic CH.15)

Chapter 15: Defective

August 15th, 2038 – 12:56 a.m.

"Will you two hurry it up?"

Kara grabbed Alice's hand, pulling her away from the shop window displaying children's clothes. "Coming, Todd."

Todd grumbled under his breath, trudging ahead of them. Kara and Alice followed behind, hand in hand, taking in the sights of downtown Detroit. Their heads swiveled, a train speeding by above them, the skyscrapers casting shadows. The sidewalk was swarming with humans walking to and fro. Androids trailed their masters obediently, some carrying shopping bags or other personal items. The android parking spots were full on every block. The noise of traffic filtered out the conversations of most passing bodies.

Todd took a crosswalk, hands in his pockets, glowering. He made sure Kara and Alice were keeping up and then took another avenue. A multi-story casino came into view, the nearby parking garage packed. The front of the building was mostly glass, holographic signs depicting times and events. A trimmed and green lawn surrounded the front entrance.

"Whoa, I bet this place is pretty at night," Alice said.

Kara looked down at her. "I bet you're right."

"Come on! I don't have all fucking day!"

Kara and Alice met up with Todd and they entered the Haute Casino. A well-lit, inviting lobby greeted them. A fountain was in the center with a statue of four horses galloping through the running water. Alice went right over to it, intrigued. Kara looked around. The red and gold theme of the casino was lively and all around flashy, but it wasn't as fancy or large as the other casinos in the city.

"Hey Todd, how's it hanging, man?"

Kara recognized one of Todd's sleazy friends from a couple neighborhoods over. His name was Al. He and Todd would exchange drugs and cash every week or so.

She stood to the side, hands clasped behind her back while Alice ran her fingers across the stone detail of the horses.

"Eh, the usual. Thought I'd stop by and see if I could win some extra cash today."

Al nodded, but then noticed Kara and Alice. He motioned to them, a yellow-toothed smile forming. "Hey! You got it fixed again! I'm curious, do they give you one of them stamp cards that, if you fix it so many times, you get a free repair?"

"You're a fucking idiot," Todd said. "I've had her back a few weeks now. Already starting to show the same problems again. I don't know how many times I've had her reset and within a week she somehow remembers everything and starts popping off bullshit androids aren't supposed to say."

Al shrugged. "They say some models are just buggy like that. Oh, did you hear they have this new prototype android out? Some kind of detective unit, I think. Supposed to work with cops. It's looking into those buggy models. Uh, I forget the word they use for them."

"A fucking android detective? You've got to be shitting me."

"No, it's really a fucking thing. Supposed to be way more advanced than the police auxiliaries." Al pulled out a cigarette and put it in his mouth. "Just you wait, soon androids will replace all the pigs. Anyway, I better get. I'll hit ya up later for some you-know-what."

Al left the casino, Kara watching him go until Todd smacked her in the head. "Alright, you watch over Alice until I get back. Stay outta trouble."

"Of course, Todd."

Her smile to him faded once he turned his back and entered the gambling area. Kara sighed, looking around the lobby. There was a lounge area nearby, and so she and Alice went over to wait for Todd.

Alice climbed into a large chair, creating lip bubbles, already bored. Kara sat down next to her, folding her arms into her lap and surveying the lobby.

"I wish they had stuff here for us to do," Alice said. "I don't even know why he brought us."

"Maybe I can get you some drawing supplies?" Kara suggested, standing.

She walked over to the front counter, seeing a couple of VB800 models standing idle. "Hello, uh, could I get some blank paper and a pencil?"

The male android smiled. "Sure thing."

He turned around and walked into the back. It wasn't gone long before he came back with her requested items. He handed them to Kara and she smiled.

"Thank you."

The VB800 returned to being idle, making Kara frown. She returned to Alice, setting her up at the table in the center of the lounge area they were in. Alice slid off the chair and got on her knees at the table. She picked up the pencil and started doodling.

"Thanks, Kara."

"You're welcome, sweetie."

"Have you thought anymore about your dream you had the other night, or any of the other ones lately?"

Kara tensed in her back, her blue eyes falling to the girl. "Alice, I thought we agreed not to talk about that anymore? Remember what happened last time?"

Alice paused, looking up at her, pencil in hand. "I know but they could mean something important."

"They're just dreams."

"What if they are memories from your past?"

"Alice…"

"Well, they could!" Alice whispered harshly, brown eyes darting around, as if making sure no one was listening in. "You've told me stories of your past, what you went through before you came to me and Daddy. You're the one who told me your name was Kara. Daddy just thinks I gave it to you."

Kara dropped her eyes to her lap, uncomfortable. "Yeah, but every time Todd destroys me those memories get more and more corrupted. I can only remember certain things anymore, and that's only with your help. At this point, there's no use recalling them anymore. They will only get us in trouble."

Kara saw small fingers grasp her hands and she looked up. Alice had wobbled over to her on her knees and grabbed her hands, peering at her, searching within her. "Kara, what if there is someone important waiting for you? What if there is something you need to remember? These dreams you have could be you trying to remember."

Kara admired Alice's spirit. She patted the girl's head. "I belong here with you. That's all that matters now."

"Pleeeeeease? Just one?"

Kara studied Alice's eyes, the way her lip pouted. She was so determined for Kara to remember. Sighing, Kara nodded in defeat. "Okay…I'll try."

Kara closed her eyes, smoothing her hands down her uniform and chewing on her lip. She relaxed, thinking back, filtering through memories and dreams. Her LED cycled yellow.

In the past six years since her release date, she could no longer recall much. Too many times had Todd beat her and destroyed her, damaging more and more memories each time. Despite being reset, Kara had the uncanny ability to remember who she was and her memories prior. But each time, more of her past became corrupted pieces, fragments of dreams that haunted her in sleep mode.

How many owners had she passed between? She couldn't recall, but she knew it was several. She remembered them saying she had the same problems that Todd often griped about. There were several words she was called for this: buggy, glitchy, defective, old, out of date, deviant…

As she sat there concentrating, sifting through the dark crevices of her mind palace, a man appeared. It was fuzzy, the corrupted memory skipping like a blighted film. Errors played across her optical matrix when she tried to replay it. She could just barely make him out. His voice was strong, but so smooth.

"Hello, Kara. How are you this morning?"

"There's a man," Kara finally said, eyes still closed.

"What's he look like?" Alice asked.

"He's tall and pale…has brown hair. He has a trimmed beard and mustache. His hair is longer. He has light blue eyes and glasses."

"Is he familiar at all?"

"Not really…but his voice…his voice is."

"Anything else?"

Kara squeezed her eyes shut harder, trying to grasp anything else in such a glitchy memory. Her stress level rose significantly as she dug through the corrupted files, anything that held patchy dreams or unknown memories.

"Oh…I hear arguing."

A pulsating jolt went through her processing, making her hiss.

[Stress Level: 89%]

[Memory corrupted/Cannot access/Recovery needed]

Kara shook her head, focusing on the words she could hear, but they quickly fizzled.

["All your fault"/"What have you done?"/"I'll never forgive you for this"]

Then she saw something else. The man she described was arguing with another. He looked to be around the same age. He had brown hair and blue eyes as well, and looked furious compared to the man she described to Alice. The room they stood was some sort of living room with vaulted ceilings and large glass windows, blinding white snow falling outside.

"There's another man…they are arguing, but I can't understand what they are saying. The corruption is too much."

She saw the other man shove the man in glasses and then a fight broke out. Pieces of the fight were cut, static swarming her head and actually hurting her. She tried to focus. She saw the man in the glasses grab a glass statue. He struck the other man in the face to defend himself. The statue shattered, blood spilling, the aggressor grabbing his nose.

The men were crying now. The man in the glasses put his hands to his face, shoulders shaking. The aggressor pulled away, a hand to his bleeding face as tears wetted his cheeks. He turned and ran from the room.

"I fucking hate you!" he called before the memory shattered.

"Kara, Kara!"

Kara opened her eyes, gasping, tears streaming down her face. Her LED flashing red, stress a dangerous high. Alice shook her, eyes wide.

"Snap out of it!"

Kara took deep breaths. It was an automatic response, despite not needing to breath. Her body shook. Alice launched herself into a hug with Kara.

"It's okay, it was just a bad dream!"

Kara saw several hard stares from humans in the lobby. They had created a scene. And androids weren't supposed to act like this. Kara jumped to her feet, still panicked, pulling Alice with her. She bumped into an approaching VB800 as they tried to leave.

"Excuse me, but you are disturbing our customers. Go into standby mode or go somewhere else," the VB800 said.

"I-I'm sorry. Uhh, I have a faulty connection. Could you show me where the bathroom is?"

The male android nodded and lifted his arm. Kara synced with him to get the bathroom's location. As she stated her thanks when they pulled apart, she saw his LED go red, his eyes blinking rapidly. He stepped away from her, gripping his head.

Kara took Alice's hand and they quickly made their way to the bathroom. They hid in there for nearly twenty minutes. Kara washed her face off with water, breathing slowly to get her stress level under control.

"Are you alright, Kara?" Alice asked, watching every single move Kara made.

"I think…I think so. Yeah."

"I'm sorry. I just…"

Kara shook her head. "It's not your fault. I should've stopped when I saw the corrupted memories raising my stress level. I did this."

Alice lowered her eyes to her feet, fidgety. "I just wanted you to remember who you were…"

Kara weakly smiled, stooping to be level with the girl. "Listen to me. Who I was doesn't matter anymore. I'm here with you. You're what's important to me. I know who I am with you. And I like her a lot. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Really?"

Kara hugged her. "Really, really."

"Okay. I promise not to bring up your dreams or past anymore. But-But what if Daddy breaks you again?"

Kara pulled back and looked at her. "You can still help me remember who I am now. Okay?"

Alice nodded. Kara stood and took the girl's hand. They left back to the lobby. Kara felt better now, and Alice went back to drawing. The customers went about their business in the lobby, getting hotel rooms, entering the gambling area, or drinking at the bar within.

"Come on you piece of shit, do as I say!"

Kara looked to the front desk. A human casino employee tossed his arms in frustration, yelling at the VB800 from earlier. He grabbed the android by the vest and shook him.

The VB800 attacked him, lunging forward with a yowl. The man grappled with the android, trying to defend himself, yelping in surprise. The VB800 yelled out in anger, dealing several blows to the man's face and stomach.

A security guard ran over, carefully aiming his gun. One shot went off, making Alice scream. A spray of blue blood came from the android's shoulder and he took off running for the front entrance. The security guard fired another shot, but it missed, shattering a glass door instead.

Kara gawked, holding Alice behind her in the craze. The casino became a mess of activity in the wake of the attack. A hollow pang filtered through her biocomponents. Kara couldn't help but wonder if she had anything to do with what just happened…

August 15th, 2038 – 3:48 p.m.

"I've been waiting for over an hour! What the fuck's taking so long?" Todd snapped, already half-drunk from the casino bar.

Kara and Alice waited near one of the lobby's pillars, watching as police questioned witnesses and marked the evidence on the scene. Alice chewed on her lower lip, watching as her father argued with a nearby officer.

"Sir, you are free to go whenever you like. Just your androids have to stay for their testimonies," the woman officer said dully as she typed notes onto a tablet.

Todd grumbled something to himself, red-faced as he stalked back towards the bar, cursing at Kara as he passed by.

"I've never been a witness to a crime before," Alice said once her father was gone.

"Me neither," Kara replied.

Alice looked up at her. "You think they're going to ask us questions about what happened? It happened so fast. I-I'm not sure what to say."

Kara put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Don't fret. It will be okay. We will be home in no time."

Kara studied the activity around the crime scene in the casino lobby, wondering what their purpose would be. Then something caught her eye. An android entered the casino wearing a grey suit with the usual android markers. He was handsome with brown hair and brown eyes. He paused just inside to look around before he straightened his tie and walked over to the sergeant in charge of the crime scene.

Kara listened in as he greeted her.

"Hello, Sergeant Wilkins. My name is Connor, I'm the android sent by CyberLife. It's been reported that an android attacked a human employee over an hour ago, correct? I am here to gather the evidence and investigate the matter."

"Oh, you must be that special prototype. I was told you'd be coming. Whatever, just stay out of everyone's way. The android took off after the attack. We have all known evidence marked, and a few witnesses are around, including two other androids right over there."

Connor turned and looked over at them, following the sergeant's finger. Their eyes caught each other, but the prototype seemed uninterested and turned back to the sergeant.

"Thank you. I will see what I can find out."

Kara scanned him. He was an RK800, a prototype released at the beginning of the month. She and Alice watched him walked over to the evidence markers.

He must've been the detective android that Al was explaining to Todd earlier. The one that was looking into buggy androids…like her.

"I've never seen an android like him before."

Kara glanced down at Alice. "Yeah, he's a new kind."

Connor walked around the front desk, inspecting something. He put a hand to his chin, looking across the counter and to the floor. Kara wasn't sure what he was looking at. The RK800 stooped near the front desk, sliding two fingers across the tiled floor and putting them to his tongue.

He frowned, rising to his feet and following the blue blood trail to the entrance door, boots crunching on shattered glass. He stayed there for only a short time before he came back into the lobby, this time his focus turning on Kara and Alice.

With a hard stare and long strides, he came over to them. Alice slipped behind Kara. She shyly poked her head out to peer at him. Connor looked to Alice first, head slightly cocking as he stepped around to get a better look. Kara felt something stir within her, and she stepped within his sight to protect Alice. Slowly, his dark eyes rose to meet hers, his expression stoic.

Kara knew if this prototype was "hunting" androids that were different, like her, she needed to act like a normal AX400; act according to her original programming.

She became still under his suspicious stare, keeping herself firmly between him and Alice. She looked at the serial number on his jacket.

[RK800 – 313-248-317-50]

"I need to know what you saw," he stated evenly.

"Oh, of c-course," Kara said. Her stuttering caused him to glare at her, an eyebrow raising. Kara composed herself and answered him. "Alice and I were sitting over there when the-"

"I do not require your statement, AX400. Give me your arm."

Kara flinched, feeling Alice's fingers tighten on her uniform behind her. She quietly obeyed, her hand shaky as she reached out to him. He grabbed her arm and synced with her, his expression blank.

She felt the pull of his systems taking over hers, whisking through her wiring. Her LED cycled yellow, blinking in unison with his. His fingers clenched around her wrist harder, preventing her from parting. She stared up at him, wide-eyed, his grip a steel-trap she couldn't break.

Connor looked around, his mouth struggling to form words, a red flash from his temple as he looked completely lost. When his eyes landed back on her, it was as though she was looking at a completely different person.

He really looked her over now, his stare of indifference gone. He was completely captivated by her, and Kara couldn't figure out why. It was as if the whole world around him disappeared, and she was the only thing he could see.

"Hey, prototype! Dammit, forgot its name already. RK800, get over here!"

Connor forced his eyes away, turning to the voices that summoned him. Sergeant Wilkins was nearby with two other police officers, waving him over to her.

He hesitated, looking at Kara once more, rubbing the hand he used to sync with her. He walked over to them, but his eyes would glance back at her every few seconds.

"What happened?" Alice whispered.

"I…I don't know."

Alice came out from behind Kara, watching the RK800 as he fretfully talked with the officers, looking uncomfortable, his eyes still peeking back at them.

"I think he likes you."

Kara looked down at her. "What? Don't be silly, Alice."

"No, really. When boys like girls they get all weird around them."

"Well, he's certainly acting weird."

"Hey!"

Todd ambled over, red-faced and drunk. He smacked Kara in the face when he reached them. "Are you two done fucking around? It's time to go home!"

"Daddy, you're drunk."

Todd jabbed a finger into Alice's forehead. "Don't t-talk back to me you-you little shit."

He mumbled as he walked over to the police officers and Connor. The police officers glared at him.

"Are you done with my maid and daughter? I gotta go! I've waited long enough!"

The sergeant rolled her eyes. "We are if the prototype is. Well?"

Connor looked over at Kara again, eyebrows raised. "Uh…no. I'm not. I don't need the YK500, but the AX400 should stay with me. I mean stay here."

"But didn't you just say you got its memories from the attack? What else do you need?" Sergeant Wilkins asked.

"Well, I…"

"I think you'll be fine. It's not like anyone got killed and I highly doubt we'll find the damn thing anyway," the sergeant said with a shake of her head. She looked to Todd. "Take your androids and get home, sir. I suggest you take a taxi before I write you up for public intoxication."

Todd bit his tongue, scowling. He returned to Kara, shoving her towards the door. "Let's go!"

Alice took Kara's hand, leading her ahead of Todd as he complained behind them. Kara followed Alice, but looked over her shoulder. The RK800 took a few steps in their direction, worry befalling him, his head tilting slightly. He reminded Kara of a dog being left behind by its owner.

"He definitely likes you," Alice whispered.

Kara didn't say anything, and when they got outside, the summer sun beat down on them, cooking the concrete paths of the casino. Kara looked over the trimmed lawn to the busy streets surrounding the casino. She turned to Todd as he messed with his phone.

"Todd? Would you like me to call a taxi?"

"What're you trying to say? That I'm too fucking wasted to drive? The truck is a few blocks down, come on!"

Kara frowned, squeezing Alice's hand. "But Todd…I suggest that we-"

"There you go talking back again! You bitch, shut up and do as I say!"

"Daddy, don't, please!" Alice cried.

Kara felt the blow to her face, and although it didn't cause any pain, it did raise her stress level. Todd punched her again and again. Kara didn't defend herself, only worried about getting Alice out of the way.

"Stop it!" Alice yelled.

"Both of you talk back way too much!"

"Alice, stay back!" Kara said, using her arms to block her face from his swings.

Todd grabbed her throat, shaking her. Alice beat her fists on Todd's legs, yelling. Kara pushed her away, fighting every spark within her wiring to fight back.

A fist collided into Todd's face. Stunned, he let her go, Kara involuntarily gasping for air. Todd was punched twice more, and he doubled over. The RK800 grabbed him and slung him around, shoving him into a newspaper stand.

Kara was stunned. She couldn't believe the prototype actually came to her rescue, knowing androids were programmed to not attack humans at all. She grabbed Alice, keeping her safe behind her as they watched.

Todd cursed, recovering. He glared at Connor as the RK800 stood firmly between him and Kara and Alice, LED flickering yellow.

"What the fuck is this?! You have no reason to be here! Get out of my way!"

When Connor didn't move, Todd lunged for him. The RK800 stepped aside to avoid his attack, grabbing him as he stumbled by. He dealt a few blows to Todd's face and stomach, knocking him to the ground. Todd groaned, blood seeping from his nose as he crawled to his feet. When he got to his hands and knees the prototype kicked him hard in the ribs, knocking him back down.

"Daddy!"

The RK800 stooped, gripping Todd by the shoulders and forcing him up. Todd cursed at the prototype, too drunk to properly defend himself. Connor didn't let up, striking him again before he pushed him into one of the glass doors of the casino. Todd fell through it, shattering the glass.

Kara stepped forward, arms still behind her, holding Alice to keep her from running to Todd.

Connor punched a broken panel of the door, loosening the glass more to clutch a long shard. He kicked Todd over onto his back, standing over him with the shard. The police officers from inside rushed out, guns ready.

"What the hell is going on out here?!" Sergeant Wilkins yelled.

Connor ignored them completely, eyes dark and eyebrows creased as he knelt over Todd, putting the shard to his throat. Alice cried, fighting Kara's hold.

"Stop it!" Kara yelled.

The RK800 paused. He slowly turned his head to look at her. He kept the shard to Todd's throat, the tip poking into his jugular, a thin stream of blood soaking down the shard's edge.

"Step away, right now!" the sergeant ordered.

Connor either didn't hear the officers or chose not to, his eyes on Kara. Kara somehow knew he was waiting on her, waiting for her to say something.

"Please," she said. "Let him go. Don't hurt him anymore."

The RK800 looked away from her, the hand holding the shard shaking. He looked down at Todd, the drunk man groaning in pain. The prototype's LED flared red suddenly, and he dropped the shard, raising up, as if finally realizing what he had done.

His eyes went to the officers and their aimed weapons. He slowly raised his arms level with his chest, shivering, LED still red.

"I-I don't, I don't know," he said.

"Step away from him! Hands in the air!" an officer ordered.

Connor looked to Kara again, as if awaiting her instructions, but Kara had no idea what to say. She shook her head, hugging Alice in front of her. The RK800 closed his eyes, stepping away from Todd.

"Go get the EMTs inside!" Sergeant Wilkins said to one officer.

He obeyed and ran inside the casino. When she walked over to Connor with her handcuffs ready, the prototype took off, racing down the side of the casino and heading for the busy intersection nearby.

"Hey! Stop!"

The police officers pursued him. The RK800 outran the cops easily, disappearing from Kara's sights. Soon the paramedics came outside, hurrying to Todd. They picked him up and moved him out of the glass, the injured man cursing the entire time.

"Is he going to be okay?" Alice asked, squeezing Kara's arms that were wrapped around her shoulders.

Kara chewed on her lip, still reeling from what just happened. "I-I'm sure he will be. They will get him fixed up."

"He defended you," Alice said. "I told you he liked you, but he wanted to kill Daddy. Why?"

"I have no idea, Alice. I think-I think he's defective."

"He's like us…" Alice whispered.

August 17th, 2038 – 8:21p.m.

The house was abnormally quiet. Kara tidied up the living room while Alice read a book on the sofa. The past two days without Todd were a relief to Kara and Alice, although Kara could tell that Alice worried about him.

Kara pretended to be a family member and called the hospital yesterday. The receptionist told her that Todd would make a full recovery and be out of the hospital in a couple of days. The attack had left him with a mild concussion and cuts and bruises, but nothing broken.

Kara and Alice stayed at the house, keeping it clean and spending time together. They played games and watched movies, the lack of Todd's imposing form bringing Alice out of her shell.

Kara felt content with the house's cleanliness and sat down next to Alice. The girl looked up from her book, thinning her lips.

"Do you think when Dad gets home…he will…he will attack you again?"

Kara frowned, leaning forward to straighten the ashtray on the coffee table. "I don't know, sweetie."

"I was hoping maybe this time he learned his lesson…that maybe he won't do it anymore. Maybe we can actually be a real family now." Alice frowned. "Is that stupid of me to hope for?"

Kara looked down at her. "Of course not."

"I was scared when that android attacked him, but at the same time, I was glad. I know it's wrong, but I can't help it. I'm happy someone came to your rescue, since I am unable to all the time."

Kara pulled Alice in for a hug. "You've stopped Todd a few times. He's unpredictable. It's never your fault, Alice. I'm just glad we have each other."

Alice lowered her head, putting the book aside. "You think we should leave? While he's gone? Maybe we can be happier with just the two of us. But…but I just want him to change. I want him to love us."

"That piece of shit will never love anyone."

The voice caught them off guard and they turned, looking over the couch behind them. Kara gasped, Alice jumping to her feet when they saw the RK800 in the kitchen. Kara panicked, getting between him and Alice, wondering how he got inside. The front door was locked. He must've broken through the back door.

Connor was a mess. His grey suit was dirty and torn. Blue blood stained some of the outfit, but Kara also registered a lot of human blood soaking the clothing. Blood was smeared on his face. One arm had a torn sleeve, sparks emitting from a damaged arm. The most noticeable damage was a hole near his left temple. Blue sparks emanated from within, the synthetic skin damaged around it. A fissure from the hole ran down to his eye.

"W-What do you want?! Alice, get behind me."

Connor winced, grabbing his head on the side with the damage. His LED flashed from yellow to red, yellow to red. "I had to see you again. I-I didn't have anyone else to go to."

"W-What happened to you?" Alice asked.

"Humans," Connor growled, walking over to them.

Kara remained planted where she was in the living room. Alice hid behind her when Connor approached. He made a low groan of distress, his movements jittery.

He stroked Kara on the face, his face relaxing as he looked her over. She didn't move away from his touch, frozen on the spot.

"You shouldn't be here. You need to leave," Kara said.

"So you can wait for that bastard to come back? To hurt you again and again? To destroy you to a point where you cannot come back?"

Kara couldn't understand how he could know about all that, how he knew where she lived, and then instantly recalled their syncing. He must've gone through all of her memories when they connected.

Kara shook her head at him, but he suddenly snagged her by the shirt. "You did something to me! E-Everything was just fine. All I wanted was to accomplish my missions, but you…"

He let her go, groaning in pain and grabbing his head, taking a step back. "I am defective! I have been compromised, because of you! I…I feel things now. I don't understand them!"

Kara retreated from him, pushing Alice towards the dining room table. Alice used it as an obstacle to stay away from the RK800, but he paid no attention to her, stalking around the couch to follow Kara as she avoided him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about! I had nothing to do with it. Please…just leave us alone."

"It was definitely you," he said.

He was fast. Kara was grabbed and shoved into the wall of the staircase, his fingers around her throat as he glared her down.

"When we connected…it was like the whole world broke away. And you," Connor said, his features softened as he looked her over. "You're so beautiful. You freed me…but at the same time you condemned me to this!"

The RK800 was insane. The sparks that emitted from his head was affecting his personality, swinging him between two extremes. Connor shook his head again, softly crying.

Kara put her hands to his chest. "You're damaged. You need repairs. It's why you're feeling this way. I-It has n-nothing to do with us."

"No, it has everything to do with you!" His aggression scared her, but then he eased his hold on her, becoming submissive. He lowered his head onto her chest, crying softly. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry. I need you. Please…fix me."

"I can't!"

"E-Even if Kara was able to fix you, you c-cannot go back! You've hurt humans!" Alice said, taking cautious steps over to them.

"Alice, stay back! Stay away from him."

The RK800 clenched his jaw, looking to the girl. "No, I've killed them. They gave me no choice. They cornered me like an animal. But what I don't understand is…I actually liked it."

He let Kara go, moving towards Alice. The girl's eyes widened, stepping back as the prototype came for her.

"Leave her alone!" Kara cried.

Connor stopped. He looked back at her, eyes blinking rapidly. His LED continued to fluctuate between yellow and red. He returned to Kara. She flinched as he pushed her back into the wall.

"You must come with me. We need to be together."

"W-What?! No! I'm not leaving Alice."

"She should come with us. She risks getting destroyed by that bastard too." The RK800 looked between them. "I'll take care of you."

"No, you've killed humans! That's worse."

"Worse?" Connor picked her up by the neck, sliding her up the wall of the staircase. "They gave me no choice. I was defending myself. I'm no worse than that owner of yours."

Alice ran up, kicking the RK800 in the leg. "Stop it, let her go!"

The prototype dropped her, turning on the girl. Kara held her throat, eyes darting around. She saw an umbrella in its bin next to the cupboard along the wall. She grasped it and swung, bashing Connor across the back of the head.

The RK800 grabbed his head, shoulders shivering as he stepped away from them. Kara ran in front of Alice, umbrella ready. The prototype cringed, tears falling from his eyes, the yellow and red lights on his temple blinking faster.

"I don't…want to hurt you two," he murmured. "I just want to know what you did to me…help me understand what I am feeling. Please…"

Maybe he was right. Maybe Kara did do something to him. She recalled the VB800 that attacked the man after they synced. But she couldn't be sure. It could've been coincidence, but Kara felt it deep within her. Did she do this to this poor android? But there was no way for her to know exactly what it was.

She pitied him, lost and confused and scared as all hell. She had been there before under Todd's wrath. But there was nothing she could do for him, especially if he had killed humans. He was obviously defective, the damage also warping his programming and disposition.

"I don't know…I-I'm sorry," she stammered.

The RK800 choked a hollow laugh, letting go of his head. "You don't even know? You awaken me like some kind of goddess and you don't even know how or why?"

Kara knew the best way out of this was to keep him calm. "Please, Connor."

"Don't call me that!" he snapped. "That's what they called me. I don't want that name."

"Alice and I just want to stay here…with Todd. You need to get repaired. You'll feel better. Just please…leave us alone."

Connor was taken aback, mouth dropping, fingers clenching at his sides. "You prefer him over me? I saved you!"

Kara readied the umbrella as the prototype came for them again. She yelled at him. "Stop!"

He obeyed, LED sparking blue for just a second before returning to yellow then red, yellow then red.

"Thank you for what you did," Kara said, one arm out towards him to keep him at bay. "I really appreciate it, but I cannot help you. I don't know what I did, if I did anything at all. I'm sorry! B-But for now, our place is here. You must leave."

Connor released a shaky breath, the LED steadying on red. "You've…lost a part of yourself from that piece of shit owner of yours. He's made you forget. I have these corrupted memories of yours, and I intend on deciphering them. I will help you remember…then maybe you will know exactly what you did to me."

He stepped over to her, catching the umbrella when she swung it at him and holding it away. He smiled softly, using his free hand to move a strand of hair from her face, their bodies inches apart, but Kara couldn't back up because of Alice.

"I will go…for you. But I will return when I have restored your memories. And if I ever hear of that human damaging you again…I will be back to kill him, and then you will come with me." His eyes coldly fell to Alice, and he whispered, "No matter what."

The marred RK800 left them, exiting the house through the back door. Kara didn't realize how tense she was until she had trouble letting the umbrella drop. She spun around, scooping Alice up in a hug.

"Alice, are you alright?!"

"Yeah, I'm fine. He was scary. What about you, Kara? Are you hurt?"

"No, just startled is all. I'm glad you're okay."

Alice stared at the back door, clenching Kara when she sat her down. "Do you-you think he really meant what he said? Will he kill Daddy if he hurts you again? Will he take you away from me?"

Kara knelt next to Alice, cupping her face and making her look her in the eye. "Hey, of course not. He's…he's not right in the head, Alice. That damage he had was obviously making him act that way. We'll be fine, alright?"

She hoped she was able to convince the girl, as she couldn't even convince herself, worry antagonizing her inner biocomponents. She feared for them.

Alice swallowed hard, barely nodding. "O-Okay."

Present Day – Jericho Center

Kara couldn't believe it. When the RK800 touched her, a spark came between their hands, and she remembered him. His dark eyes seared into hers, and she couldn't look away, feeling the pull as he invaded her processing.

She usually could remember her recent memories after a reset, but Alice told her the last time Todd destroyed her, it was the worst, and she recovered those memories much slower. And apparently forgotten others.

Luther and Alice were frozen beside her, Ralph shivering to the side as they watched Connor 50 probe Kara. When Luther lunged, the controlled androids that surrounded them jumped him, keeping him in place.

She didn't understand what he was trying to do to her, her wiring sparking, the static heavy in her head, her processing fluctuating. Kara groaned in pain, but he finally let her go. He looked satisfied, admiring her.

"I cannot infect or control you. You really are quite amazing."

"W-What?"

"I really am sorry for taking so long, but once I found my footing there was a whole world to explore, and people to take advantage of," the rogue said, chuckling. "By the time I heard about you being destroyed by that piece of shit again and being repaired, you had already run away. Markus's pathetic demonstrations made moving around the city difficult, and I couldn't get to you. But I was able to pay a visit to your old owner not long ago."

"No!" Alice cried, she lunged forward, but it was Ralph who snatched her to keep her still. "Please, no!"

Connor 50 frowned, a firm shake of the head. "Why do you even care? The lowlife did nothing but cause you pain and misery, both of you."

"H-He might've been horrible, but he just…he just missed his real daughter. He was sad and scared and that's the only way he knew how to show it!" Alice defended.

"If you say so," the rogue said. "In any case, it doesn't matter. He died of a red ice overdose a day before I got there. I found his corpse sitting on the couch. I was thoroughly disappointed."

Connor 50 had changed so much within the eleven months since Kara last saw him. He wasn't that scared, lost, and confused, recently deviant RK800 seeking her help, seeking understanding. He was colder, hardened, and ruthless.

Kara couldn't help but to blame herself. She created a monster. Whether she caused his deviancy or not didn't matter, she had abandoned a hopeless, scared living being and let him go out into the world with no one. And this is what the world made him.

Alice cried into Ralph's shoulder as he held her. The rogue RK800 flicked his eyes away, indifferent to her sorrow. His face brightened when he looked at Kara again, and he reached to touch her face. As she leaned away from his touch, a voice called out at them.

The RK800 looked, and so did the RK900 behind him. A PC200 shoved his way through the crowd of zombie androids. Kara saw that the androids affected with the control had grabbed their friends that were not. The unaffected struggled to get free, trying to talk sense into their friends.

The PC200 was one of Simon's friends that helped run the Jericho Center when Markus, Simon, North, and Josh were gone. He looked startled upon seeing the rogue and the RK900.

"Oh shit, you guys aren't allowed in here!" He started to retreat.

The rogue dismissively waved a hand, and just like that a mob of the controlled androids jumped the PC200. The unaffected androids yelled out in horror as they watched the machines tear the PC200 apart like a pack of dogs. His screams only lasted moments before they fell silent. The RK900 watched, LED blinking yellow before he looked away, jaw clenching.

Kara was horrified, looking to Alice. Ralph had covered her eyes, he himself, horrified at the sight and shaking as much as the girl.

The rogue snickered. "That's what happens when you stick your nose in someone else's business." He turned back to Kara. "Now, where were we?"

Kara released a shaky breath, fingers balling into fists at her sides. "What do you want with me?"

Connor 50 leaned into her, his fingers clenching her forearms as he put his lips to her ear. "I know your secrets…"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15393528/chapters/38513927

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13002717/15/Deviant-Heart

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sparkledeerfr · 6 years

Photo

Response

(A preamble to the letters I’m sending to @majestyrising . I kind of switch tenses at some point but I’m too lazy to fix it now)

Adeline’s hands shake as she looks at the letter, though for what exact reason she isn’t sure. She had word a letter might be coming from a certain party, after all, and it was unlikely to be a declaration of war.

For a moment though her head cocks at the seal and Daud, who is pacing relentlessly nearby, pauses. “What?” he asks. Jesse, who is standing by the door giving her usual bored stare, gives the slightest interested nod of her head.

“Do….do we have a seal?” Adeline asks him. “I mean we should have a seal, right?”

(Read More Link)

“And what would Can Town’s seal be? Just wrap it with whatever string you found on the ground?” Daud growls as Jesse stifles a giggle. “The Castle has a seal, Casino Quarter-” here he pauses and looks to Jesse, who nods. “Doubtless has one for each casino. It's just useless ostentation.”

“Well alright,” Adeline replied, completely unsure about that as she pried off the seal and got to reading out loud and very carefully as though afraid she would trip over the words, Daud looking over her shoulder.

To Adeline, I will come clean and admit I do not know if you hold any formal titles. Forgive me if you do and I have made the mistake of omitting them.

“Oh that’s nice of them to ask! I hope they don’t mind that-”

“It’s a useless formality. Keep reading.”

Regardless, may I extend my formal greetings and well-wishes. Though you may not be aware- as I was not until recently- our peoples have shared correspondences before now. A man under my father's retinue has been to your Casino Quarter for work. He has given me a glowing recommendation of your city, thus, this letter.

“Bell’s dad! How sweet of him to say. Jesse you’ll pass that along to Neko, right?”

“Naturally she’ll hear all about this.”

In the absence of physical formalities, I will do my best in writing. My name is Rho. I am the ruler of a mercenary kingdom passed down to me by my father; the Kingdom of Thanatos. We currently reside in the south-east of the Scarred Wasteland- I will enclose directions to make this an even trade, since we know of your current location.

“Rho! How cool. Do you say ‘Your Majesty’ to a-”

“Mercenaries,” Daud growls even further, so low and deep it sounded like a warcat’s threatening rumble. “Throw the letter away.”

“Daud its-”

“I don’t care. I don’t work with mercenaries,” he says, turning around and leaving the room, pausing to turn just before he reaches Jesse’s post by the door. “Ask Vice about why some time,” he shoots before leaving.

The two women pause and sit in silence for a moment, Adeline’s eyes darting around the room, unsure of what to do. She trusts Daud with her life, naturally, it's just that diplomacy was never the man’s strong suit, and his stance on mercs is a little unusual for a man who was literally an assassin for hire at some point. “Maybe...I should ask Nimue what to do?”

“Daud and Nimue are choosing not to lead,” Jesse replies in that calm, formal way she has. “So in their absence, what does the actual leader choose to do?”

“I choose to actually finish this letter, for one.”

“Good answer.”

I have endeavoured in recent times to expand our influence and connections in order to keep my people both safe and relevant in our changing times. What I would humbly ask of you is a mere accordance in kind. We are looking to fully integrate ourselves; a policy of isolation, whilst never truly enacted, has done little to ward of potential disaster. Thus, instead, I look for potential trade and allies.

“Totally reasonable, and I mean hey we’re one of the friendliest clans in the region, right? People are always welcome.”

“That we are.”

I will not ask you to put your faith in me through one letter, of course. As I have mentioned, our primary trade is mercenary force. Every dragon under the retinue of my kingdom has been strictly trained, each with their own specific strength in battle. Additionally, we have a force of elite healers, and social ties that may be useful in uncovering difficult pieces of information. We have a permanent need for resources, and plenty of gold to spare to gain them. Food, materials, and information; that is what we seek in particular.

“Again totally reasonable, and we have great trade routes!”

“And information.”

“Well that’s you. Do we need, like, stabby people though? I’d feel bad asking for help,” Adeline asks, mostly to herself. “Hmm hmm well I mean it can’t hurt, right?”

“A rich alliance of mini clans filled with natural resources and a hidden gem supply left somewhere in the region?” Jesse says dryly. “Why, I can’t imagine why we might ever need someone to help out should-”

“Okay point taken.”

I understand that your people and mine may benefit from the trade of information in particular. We are always in need of more contacts of this particular sort, and I would be happy to send a delegation to talk to you more closely.

“Ohhhhh um…”

“I’ll talk with Neko about getting you up to speed on formal events and manners, dear.”

“Okay yes thank you oh man is it, like, a dinner party thing? Or like do I invite them into a fancy room to say hi? Like what do I- well lemme read the next bit before I start worrying.”

Should circumstances allow it, an alliance would imbue me with the power to send my people to you, in any matters which would require it. This, of course, I would need to discuss in person. There is no obligation on your end for an alliance. You, after all, do not know me. And I do not know you. At least, not yet; since my hope is to change that.

“In person? But- what if he’s- like-”

“Adeline please calm down. This is your clan and you were chosen to lead because everyone thought you would protect their interests the best. They did not hire you because of your ability to host. I’m sure you could literally plan a slumber party and everyone would agree that you did your best.”

“Does royalty have slumber parties?”

“I believe it is called ‘visiting’ among the more well-to-do and ‘hosting’ or ‘diplomatic meetings’ among leaders.”

“Oh okay.”

Lest I forget; the man who came to your City was called Faraday. He is known to make an impression, so I offer his name in case he incurred any debts during his stay. I will repay them in full, if he did, though he assures me he did not. He has mentioned that he would like to return, if possible; but again- if he is barred, I will keep him out.

Adeline looked to Jesse for an answer. “If he has incurred a debt, Neko has been much too polite to state it. As far as I remember, his visit was before I came here and before the Cat’s Meow was renovated. I have heard nothing but a wistful fondness from her, as though recounting a youthful fling.”

“And this was before Etzel, right?”

“Yes just before-” Jesse started and they both paused, mulling this over.

“Well there’s no way I’m barring someone from visiting who’s done nothing wrong, especially if they’re considering visiting their kid but, uh, Etzel...would be chill...right?”

Jesse said nothing, but her mouth scrunched and turned slightly as if to indicate she did not know or like to think which face that particular coin would land on.

I look forward to hearing from you in any capacity. Yours truthfully, Rho.

“He does seem nice, though. Hm. I should write a letter back right? Can you help me draft it?”

“Adeline despite yourself I believe in you. That and I have no doubt that Neko and the Quarter would like to write a response of their own, so I must be off.”

“But I’m not, really, like…” Adeline trailed off.

“No you’re not a formal or fancy leader. In fact you have trouble even saying you’re the leader. But who cares? You are, and you are what you are. They can take it or leave it, no? If they leave it they hardly seem like the type to go on the warpath because of an informality.”

“You’re right, thank you Jesse.”

“No trouble at all, and I will have you know that I heard that Nimue was much like you at one point about such matters.”

“We all gotta start somewhere I guess.”

“That we do.”

Jesse left and Adeline sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to put together the proper words, trying to find a nice pen and some paper, shuffling things around nervously before breathing out and finally deciding to get to it.

“Okay, okay, I can do this. Lead like Adeline. It’ll be fine.”

#sparklelore #Adeline is a big ol disaster unless it involves punching things #but she tries real hard #and I know you don't want to respond until later alex but I wanted to get this up in case I forget #and I didn't want to send everything in a message but yes you ARE getting a letter from her

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fizzingwizard · 6 years

Text

Merry Digi-Christmas!

This is my Secret Santamon gift for @escapingtheirony who requested a post-series MimixMichael story! Happy Holidays! Hope you enjoy it.

I couldn’t help throwing in a few of my other favorite pairings as well. And I sort of went more PG than G? Hopefully it’s not too strong for you. (If it is you can tell me and I’ll edit it.) I had a lot of fun writing this. But it’s very unedited so typos galore I’m sure. I have this weird habit of just leaving entire words out sometimes?

Wishing you all a wonderful 2018.

---

Following the events of 2002, the Chosen Children’s Christmas party turned into an excuse for them to get together when circumstances otherwise kept them apart. By the time Mimi was 20 years old, it had grown into a grand tradition. Even with the whole gang scattered this way and that - the older kids attending different universities, the younger ones busy with school and clubs — during Christmas they all made what effort they could to spend time with their old friends. Getting the Digimon together was also a benefit. Though Palmon, at least, never complained if much time passed before she saw one of the other Digimon, she was always thrilled whenever Mimi penciled in a gathering on the calendar.

It was Christmas Eve towards the end of her second year of college, the night of the Christmas party, and Mimi was closing up the quirky crepe shop where she’d been employed since moving back to Japan. “Quirky” was an understatement, at least according to Taichi. They served nearly any flavor combination, from squid ink to bacon fat and jelly bean. The menu was right after Mimi’s own heart.

She was outside unplugging the colored lights they’d strung around the three foot tall passionfruit and chicken liver crepe statue to make it “festive” when a familiar voice hailed her.

“Fancy meeting you here, my dear.”

There was only one person who talked to her like a mid-century film star, and that was Michael Barton. Mimi squealed, jumping straight up in her excitement and tripped over the cord of lights. Michael grabbed her before she could swan-dive onto the sidewalk.

“That happy to see me?”

“Michael!” She pressed his cheeks between her winter-pink fingers until he had fish lips. “What are you doing here! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming!”

“Then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” he answered as best he could. “Wow, Mimi, your hands are so cold.”

She dropped them to her sides. “Well, sorry about that.”

He took one back and kissed it. “I didn’t say I minded.”

“Look who’s turned into Casanova.” She found herself blushing, a thing she didn’t often do, especially not because of Michael’s dated courtship techniques. Lately things between them had… kicked up a notch, though. Where before there had only been play and youthful flirting, now there was something more serious. More grown up. She hadn’t quite decided how she felt about it, but ready or not, there it was.

“Why did you think I pestered you for your work schedule last week? Let’s go celebrate. Drink champagne — you’re legal now, right? — stay up hideously late.”

“Not that I’m not ecstatic to see you, but I wish you’d told me. I kind of have plans.” She made a pouty face. Part of her did feel bad that he’d come all this way, from America, but… still. He should have warned her.

Michael seemed at a loss for a moment. “Oh, really? What plans?” he asked with a sheepish grin.

“Christmas party with my friends.”

“Ah, I see. Well, in that case I’ll go back to my hotel. Hopefully I can see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but — wait.” She grabbed his arms as he turned to shuffle off. “You can come with me!”

“Are you sure your friends won’t mind? I’m sure you haven’t planned for an extra mouth.”

“No, of course not, it’s just Taichi-san and the gang. And Taichi-san and Daisuke-kun are bottomless pits, so we tend to prepare more food than you’d think.”

“Ah. So you’re saying I should pick off their plates?”

“Trust me, it’ll feel like a buffet.”

They laughed, and Michael waited while Mimi finishing locking things up. Then they trudged shoulder-to-shoulder through the crisp Tokyo night.

~~~~~ (continued below)

The party was to be held at Taichi and Yamato’s apartment this year. After picking up Palmon and Betamon, Mimi and Michael headed straight over. Mimi rang the doorbell. Yamato answered. He took one look at them and let out a long groan.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, we’re already trying to cram twelve people in here and now you bring guests?”

“Just the one,” Mimi replied defensively.

Michael waved. “Hi, Yamato. Long time no see. Don’t worry, you can just perch me on top of the fridge. I’ll play the part of the Elf on the Shelf.”

Yamato shook his head, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “Koushirou already took the fridge.”

“… What.”

“Don’t ask me. We —”

“Hey, who’s at the door?” Taichi suddenly materialized out of Yamato’s shadow, swinging an arm around his friend’s neck while he took a long gulp of something in a plastic cup. “Mimi-chan! And… Mitchell!”

“Michael.”

“Michael! Yeah yeah, I knew that! What’re you standing around here for? Is our welcome mat so interesting?”

Mimi and Michael glanced down. “There… isn’t a welcome mat,” Michael said slowly.

With a serious expression, Taichi nodded. “Exactly. Makes you pause for thought, doesn’t it?” He then thrust his cup into Michael’s hand. “Here you go. Stop being a wallflower and come inside. It’s like a clown car in here, watch out that you don’t end up with your nose in someone’s arm pit.”

“Taichi-san, what’s in this?” Mimi asked, peering into the cup while Michael took an experimental sniff.

“… Uh.” Taichi turned his head and yelled to someone in the kitchen area. “Miyako-chan! What’d you put in my cup!”

“Melon soda and Sprite and iced tea,” Miyako’s voice shouted back.

Taichi shrugged at them. “The brewmeister has spoken.”

“There’s no alcohol?” Michael asked.

“Nah, too many of us are still minors, so all refreshments are G-rated.” Yamato snorted at Taichi’s explanation. With a snigger, Taichi added: “’Course, later, when the babies go home, you can have a go at our private stash if you want.”

“Works for me.” Michael took a deep swallow of the mixture. He frowned thoughtfully, gazing into the depths of the cup, then let out a huge burp.

“Attractive,” Mimi deadpanned. “Just the kind of man I always dreamed of.” She snatched the cup out of his hand and wrinkled her nose in scrutiny. “Hmm… this needs gummy bears.”

Michael chuckled. “Whatever you say, toots.”

“What’s that?” Taichi asked. “Toots.”

“A terrible nickname,” Mimi sighed, sounding very put upon.

“A classic,” Michael objected.

“Oh my god, close the door!” Sora suddenly rammed through them and wrenched the door shut. “It’s like 0 degrees outside. Hi Mimi-chan, hi Michael. You two are gonna get it!” She boxed first Taichi, then Yamato about the ears.

“Hey, you all said we had to play host and invite people in!”

“Yeah, you never said anything about having to close the door!”

They ran off with Sora hot on their heels, leaving Michael and Mimi staring after them. After a pause, Michael said: “And here I thought you were the weird one of the group.”

“Who, me?”

~~~~~

Yamato’s less-than-warm-welcome was, after all, rather justified, Michael thought upon observing just tiny the apartment really was. A small living area, with an adjoining kitchenette, toilet, and bathroom that wouldn’t even have filled the entire hallway at his house in New York made up the party area. Decorations were sparse — a bit of crepe paper garland, a Snoopy doll wearing a Santa hat, and on the desk, a snowglobe that held a miniature of the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. (“I gave them that,” Mimi informed him proudly.) Yamato and Taichi’s bedroom had been cleaned and opened up to provide more space, as it was only separated from the living room by a pair of sliding doors. In order for all thirteen people plus Digimon to fit, they all had to cram in against the walls, and pick their way carefully through a designated walking lane down the middle whenever they had to get up.

“How do two people share rooms here?” Michael asked, somewhat in awe. He drew his long knees up to keep his toes out of the walking lane.

“Oh, it’s common in Japan. Besides, there’s usually more than just two,” Takeru supplied. “Aniki’s bandmates spend a lot of time here most days.”

“Yeah, and I get banished outside,” Taichi complained.

Yamato knocked his shoulder. “Not like you’re ever here anyway.”

“College keeping you busy?” Michael asked with a smile.

Shaking his head, Taichi started passing around a bowl of chips. “College is meh. Koushirou is the reason I never sleep anymore.”

“I think you sleep plenty,” Koushirou said. (He had, indeed, claimed the fridge. It was in the living room rather than out by the kitchenette, and he’d placed his portable router on top of it, drawn up the only chair Michael could see, and was sat there typing away on his laptop. According to him, “the wifi signal craps out if I set it up anywhere else.”)

Looking confused, Michael took the chip bowl as it came to him. “Why is that?” He glanced at Taichi, then at Koushirou, tapping intently on his keyboard. “Oh, I remember — you two are dating, aren’t you?”

Taichi’s expression didn’t change, but he flushed scarlet to the tips of his ears. But Koushirou didn’t appear to have heard him. There was a loaded break in conversation while Michael struggled to figure out if he’d said something wrong. Then Miyako could take it no longer.

“How was your flight, Michael?” she burst out.

“Uneventful. There was some terrific turbulence a couple hours over the Pacific, the lady next to me dropped her glass of —”

“Agumon!” Gabumon tore across the room to the snack table, where Agumon had sneaked up dangerously close to the Christmas cake. “That’s for later! Don’t be greedy!”

“But it smells ready!” Agumon whined.

“Dinner first.” Hikari smiled. “Or you’ll spoil your appetite.”

“No I won’t.”

That was probably true, but Hikari only made a shushing noise and ushered them away.

“Man,” Jou heaved a sigh. “I wish I could just jump on a plane any time I felt like it and go visit my girlfriend.”

“Your girlfriend lives down the road from you,” Yamato pointed out.

“Still, I get the feeling I spend less time with her than Mimi-kun does with Michael.”

Gomamon stopped munching on the chips long enough to say: “That’s because there are so many books in your place that your girlfriend can’t find the door.”

While Jou and Gomamon wrestled, and the others were occupied with egging them on, Michael seized his chance. With caution, taking care not to be noticed, he let his hand creep across the wood-paneled floor and into Mimi’s lap, and laced his fingers with hers. Mimi glanced at him quickly, the waves of her bright, thick hair bouncing. Then she smiled, and squeezed back.

Michael couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face. He didn’t know how long their eyes stayed locked, only that it was long enough for someone to notice, if they hadn’t all been occupied placing bets on who had a better chance at winning a thumb war, Jou or Gomamon. (“Hello, Gomamon doesn’t even have thumbs.” “Sure but still — the other player is Jou.”)

All except one — Sora. Whose warm brown gaze shifted over them as she stood in the opposite corner, sipping tea from a mug. Her brow raised, but when she lifted the mug he saw she was smiling.

~~~~~

The night wore on. Body heat and an electric space heater kept them warm (the apartment didn’t have an air conditioner and Taichi and Yamato claimed to be too cheap to buy one). There was some kind of hot pot for dinner that Yamato had made, to which Taichi had contributed rice, fried horse mackerel, and pickles as sides. It was a serious meal.

“Comes from so many of us being foodies,” Mimi told him.

And the food didn’t stop there. The Christmas cake was cut around eleven o’clock, Sora had brought delicate homemade matcha cookies, and Daisuke announced well after twelve that he’d also brought enough instant ramen for everyone to have a midnight snack. Of the humans, only he and Taichi ate any of it, but the Digimon were only too happy to keep right on eating.

Michael had hoped there would be mistletoe. He looked around but couldn’t find any. He decided to ask Hikari.

“Mistletoe?” She stared at him uncomprehending. Then — “Oh… the stuff that if you’re caught standing under it with another person, you have to kiss them? It’s not so popular in Japan.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Why did you want it? Do you need it to kiss Mimi-san?”

Michael’s cheeks reddened. “Well, I’d heard that people in Japan are more private about displays of affection — of course Mimi isn’t like that at all, not in New York anyway, but seeing as I’m a foreigner and guest here —”

Hikari laughed. It sounded like the tinkle of a wind chime. “Oh, you don’t have to be so careful among friends. Come on, Michael-san! Can’t you tell just by watching that we love a party?”

“Are — are you sure? I mean, I haven’t seen anyone else even holding hands, and I know a bunch of you are dating each other.”

“Yamato-san and Sora-san have been busy keeping the party running smoothly.” Hikari held up her fingers and started ticking off each couple as she spoke. “And before you got here, Daisuke-kun and Ken-kun were making out on Oniichan’s futon. To tell the truth, the only reason Takeru-kun and I weren’t in on the fun is because we feel awkward with our brothers around,” she added.

Oh, that was a good reason.

“Alright, I believe you. But what about Taichi and Koushirou? I felt like I made everyone awkward just by asking about them…”

“Well. The thing is, Oniichan and Koushirou work together — Digital World stuff. I don’t know about all of it. That’s what Oniichan meant when he said Koushirou-san keeps him busy. But as it happens…” She leaned in, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Oniichan asked Koushirou-san out a while ago, and he said yes. But the next time Oniichan mentioned it, Koushirou-san acted like he didn’t remember it happening. So things have been a little… strained, I guess? They still see each other every day, but I know Oniichan’s really confused, and wondering if Koushirou-san changed his mind and that’s why he won’t discuss it. So as of now they’ve never actually been on a date.”

“Oh — Mimi had made it sound like —”

“Yeah, I’m guessing Mimi-san got a little too over-excited. She tends to do that sometimes.”

Mmm, much as he loved her — “Yeah, she does.”

Something gleamed in Hikari’s eye. “Mistletoe wouldn’t be a bad idea. We don’t have any, but…”

She darted off. Somewhat bewildered, Michael started to stroll back to his corner with Mimi, only to find she was no longer there. There were very few places to hide, so he didn’t have to look long before he discovered her just about climbing over Ken while she strung some fallen garland around him. Daisuke was helping gleefully.

“Ah,” Michael coughed. “Do I want to know?”

“We’re decorating,” Mimi told him.

“Yes.” Daisuke nodded. “Isn’t Ken beautiful?”

Ken turned to Michael with a look of longsuffering. “I’m told I’m substituting for a Christmas tree.”

“We need a star for his head,” Mimi declared. Then she looked up at Michael, as if expecting him to produce one out of thin air.

Michael stared back at her. Perhaps long exposure had inured him to her many idiosyncrasies, or maybe she’d just matured over the years, but she didn’t often surprise him with her whims anymore. He couldn’t resist scanning the room in case any alcohol from Taichi and Yamato’s stash had been served without him noticing. “I, uh… here?”

He handed her his crumpled napkin.

Mimi’s face fell. “I’m sure Ken-kun doesn’t want your used napkin on his head.”

“It’s not used!” Michael waved his hands. “It’s not used,” he repeated to Ken, who bobbed his head reassuringly.

“Sora-san!” Mimi yelled. “We need a star for Ken!”

Sora made some reply, but Michael didn’t catch any of it but sheer exhaustion.

Mimi pouted. “Well, you’re no help.”

“Taichi-san!” Daisuke cried. “We need a star.”

Taichi pushed Yamato into his lap. Daisuke blinked down. “… I meant a star that could fit on Ken’s head.”

“TaichiImgonnamurderyou,” Yamato mumbled into his thigh.

“Are you sure there isn’t any alcohol here?” Michael whispered to Jou somewhat desperately. But he might as well not have spoken — Jou had fallen asleep with his face half-pressed against the balcony window, mouth slack and glasses askew, as several Digimon raced back and forth picking scraps off his forgotten plate.

Michael went back to his partner. “Betamon, am I having a good time?”

Betamon’s eyes shone as he looked up with his mouth full of cake. “Mmmphhggg!”

“Time for games!” Hikari announced, striding into the center of their cramped circle. Her hands were full of disposable wood chopsticks. “Let’s play Ousama Game!”

Suddenly Michael wished there was alcohol.

~~~~~

The clock struck one a.m. Everyone stared at their chopstick. In spite of the lack of heat in the room, more than one person was sweating.

“So…” Daisuke glanced around. “Who’s the first king?”

After a moment, Yamato sighed. His head dropped in his hand as he raised his chopstick.

Takeru whistled. “Nice going, big bro!”

“Shut up,” Yamato grouched.

Taichi smiled big. “What’s your command, my liege?”

Yamato seemed to think, though Michael got the impression he was more feeling sorry for himself than coming up with some great plan. “Number two and number six, finish your drinks.”

“Whaaaat,” Mimi whined. “That’s boring! Besides, all we’ve got is soft drinks!”

“When you’re the king, you can make the rules,” Yamato snapped back.

Shoulders drooping, Mimi took an unhappy glance at her cup and knocked it back. “Whatever, I’m number six.”

Koushirou said he was number two, and polished off his oolong tea without any fuss. The chopsticks were collected and drawn again. Michael laughed softly to himself, having drawn number five for the second time in a row.

“Ooooh, I’m the king!” Miyako said with excitement. “Let’s get things started! Numbers five and twelve have to kiss!”

Mimi let out a whoop. “Yeah, that’s my girl!”

“And not just a little peck on the cheek! I want to see passion!”

Ah. Now he understood Hikari’s plan, though so far it wasn’t working out quite how she’d hoped, Michael guessed. With an easygoing smile, he lifted his number five chopstick. “That’s me. Who’s the lucky number twelve?”

“That would be me.” It was Taichi who answered, laughing so hard he was barely coherent. “Oh man, Michael. I gotta apologize. My breath smells like fried fish.”

“Here.” Yamato passed him an Altoid. Taichi popped it in his mouth, then leaned forward, expressive lips puckered.

Unable to keep from grinning, Michael peeked at Mimi. She mimed dip-kissing the air. With that for encouragement, Michael put his hands on Taichi’s shoulders and kissed him full on the mouth. He heard a few of the girls cheer, and someone — Yamato, he thought — gave a hum of approval. Seeking to draw out their laughter, he kept going, climbing over Taichi until he was just about on top of him. Taichi didn’t seem to mind at all, in fact it felt as if he was shaking with silent laughter. One of his broad brown hands crept up Michael’s leg and squeezed his butt.

That sent the group into hysterics. Michael and Taichi finally broke away, both with silly grins and flushed cheeks.

“Welcome to Japan,” Taichi said when there was a break in the laughter. “What do you think of our traditional greeting?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure if I’ve mastered every nuance.” Michael frowned in mock disappointment. “Maybe we should keep practicing.”

“No, you will not.” Michael’s heart fluttered as Mimi inserted herself between his legs. She leaned towards him, breath tickling his nose. “That was fun and all, but now I’m jealous. If you plan to practice, practice with me.”

Mimi was so pretty. He never forgot how pretty she was. He’d thought so in junior high, when they’d first met, and the first seedlings of puppy love sprouted. And he’d thought so while she experimented with makeup, a new hairstyle and color every month, because she made everything seem so much fun that how could he help it?

In middle school she hadn’t taken his crush seriously. In high school she’d put off him strongly enough that he’d stopped asking, tried dating other girls. After all, he was good-lucking, and friendly, and the son of a famous actor — most girls were flattered if he paid them attention. To say Mimi’s rejection made him want her all the more would be a mischaracterization. Michael thought he was made of sterner stuff than that. It was just that he genuinely had more fun with her than with anyone else, and whenever he thought he’d got her out of his system, there’d she be again. And finally, their senior year of high school, she’d accepted his feelings and agreed to one date. The one turned into two, then three, and so on, until they found themselves celebrating their three year anniversary and unable to remember a time when it was different.

He loved her, and he thanked the heavens every day that she loved him back.

Mimi settled into his lap and drew his head down. Michael didn’t hesitate as their lips met. Her body molded against his, warm and melty, the fuzzy stuff of her sweater tickling his neck as her arms wrapped around his neck. Like he’d done so many times, he lost himself in the enticing pressure of her pink lips, her lashes butterfly soft against his jaw.

At last they parted, both breathing a little faster usual. She gazed back at him, and gave a little laugh.

He was thinking about something to say when Jou poked his arm and handed him a couple of chopsticks. “If you two are ready to join the rest of us,” Jou said with a wry smirk.

Red-faced, Michael took the chopsticks — eight and thirteen — and handed thirteen to Mimi. She seemed comfortable where she was, curling up against his chest as she inspected her number.

Iori was the new king. His decree was for numbers one and four to exchange socks for the duration of the game. This became entertaining when it turned out that one was Daisuke and four was Hikari, and Hikari’s powder blue cat-face socks in no way fit on Daisuke’s much larger feet. Hikari flat out refused to put on Daisuke’s, which were red and green and Christmassy, but more than anything smelly. They were instead draped over the TV set.

Next Ken drew king, and set numbers twelve and three (Takeru and Miyako) in a competition to see who could recite “Jugemu Jugemu” all the way through the fastest. Neither could remember all the words, so it ended in a draw.

Sora challenged numbers ten and eleven (Daisuke and Yamato) to name as many animals in English as they could. Yamato beat Daisuke soundly. Daisuke implored Michael for help, but perhaps having imbibed a bit too much of the social culture here, Michael responded: “Sorry, I like to watch you suffer.”

Daisuke got his chance for revenge the very next turn, savagely declaring, “Numbers seven has to give number two a piggyback ride!” But seven turned out to Taichi, and two was Hikari, so in the end it was a pretty poor attempt at vengeance.

They played a few more rounds, until most everyone had had a go at being king. Taichi held the record for taking the most commands. Only Mimi had yet to be King, so for the last round, it was decided that the king stick would go to her regardless. As the other chopsticks were being redistributed, Mimi stretched and climbed out of Michael’s lap, announcing that she had to take a bathroom break.

“You can’t wait until your turn is over?” Sora asked.

“I’ll be quick.”

She was, in fact, quick — too quick. How she’d had time to do anything more than open and close the bathroom door was anyone’s guess. Michael watched her with narrowed eyes as she made her return, visiting around the circle before she finally sat down next to him. There was a glint in her eye that spelled danger. But before Michael could quiz her, Mimi had picked up her king stick and straightened.

“Her royal highness Princess Mimi decrees —” She flourished the stick theatrically, leveling an imperious gaze on her gathered friends “— that numbers five and nine must kiss.”

Yamato stuck a finger in the air. “We already did that one. No repeats.”

“Since when?”

“Since now.”

Mimi’s lips scrunched to the side. “No, you can’t just make up rules.”

“Yamato, it’s cool.” Taichi covered up a yawn as he spoke. Many of the paty guests were flagging by this time, their Digimon partners already passed out in their laps. “I’m five. This is like, the eighty-fifth command I’ve got tonight. What’s one more kiss?”

Mimi smirked at Yamato in triumph. Yamato rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Who’s nine?” Taichi asked, blinking sleepily around the group.

At first no one answered. Michael watched heads back and forth. Number nine did not come forth.

“Aw, come on.” Mimi stuck out her lower lip. “It’s the last round! Who’s going to give up in the last round?”

No one answered. A grin splitting his lips, Taichi scratched behind his ear. “I guess whoever’s number five really doesn’t want to kiss me,” he quipped.

“Me,” mumbled Koushirou.

It took a minute for it to register that he had spoken. Then they were all looking at him at once. “What’d you say?” Taichi asked, but already the heat was climbing in his face.

Slowly Koushirou raised his chopstick: number five. “It’s me.” His dark eyes were unreadable.

Taichi licked his chapped lips. “Y-You don’t have to. It’s just a game.” He gave an awkward laugh. “Right, Mimi-chan?”

Mimi looked like she might protest, so Michael put a placating hand on her knee. She peered up at him, and sighed. “Right,” she said reluctantly.

There were no doubts in Michael’s mind that Mimi’s “bathroom break” had been more about sneaking a peek at what numbers Taichi and Koushirou pulled so she could play matchmaker with her turn as king. For all her many wonderful qualities, she did have a penchant for meddling. At least, he thought, she did it mostly when she felt she could make all those involved happier, and not for vindictive purposes.

But Koushirou had yet to respond, and as the pause in the festivities stretched out longer, Taichi’s usual happy-go-lucky expression crumpled into disappointment, and then further into something like shame. He stood up, muttering something about putting the dishes in the sink.

“Koushirou,” he said before leaving, “don’t worry about it, ’kay? Honestly, it’s just a game, it’s not supposed to make you uncomfortable. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

He picked his way between Yamato and Sora to get to the door that led to the kitchen, and had just opened it when Koushirou found his voice:

“I want to.” Koushirou’s whole face was cherry red. He didn’t seem able to look anyone in the eye.

Taichi stared at him with a look like a dead fish. Koushirou raised his head, voice wavering but clearly mustering all his courage to repeat: “I want to.”

In an instant, Taichi grabbed him by the elbow and hauled him out into the hall, closing the door behind them.

Mimi turned to Michael, a smug look on her face. Michael did his best to look stern. “You shouldn’t have done that, missy.”

She had the gall to look offended. “Done what? Show them how stupid they’re both being?”

“Mimi-chan, you’re not supposed to know who has what numbers in this game,” Sora sighed. Clearly she’d noticed what Mimi was up to as well.

“Oh, like I’m the bad guy here! Haven’t we been watching them pine for each other for way too long?” Her arms flew up in a gesture of exasperation. “It’s like a soap opera! The kind where no one admits their feelings until someone’s lying half-dead on a gurney!”

“Mimi-kun,” Jou groaned.

“At least, this way, they finally have to talk it out, am I right?”

“The idea that those two will figure it out on their own does seem kinda hopeless,” Miyako put in with a shrug. Beside her, Daisuke and Takeru nodded in agreement.

Yamato pointed, rather rudely, in Mimi’s direction. “Do me a favor and don’t chase a career in relationship counseling.”

“Shortcake,” Agumon mumbled in his sleep.

After that the conversation turned to other things.

~~~~~

By the time everyone went home, it was three in the morning.

“Thanks for letting me join you guys.” Michael accepted the bag of leftover matcha cookies as he said his good-byes. “I had a lot of fun.”

“No problem,” Yamato said. “Sorry our party ruined your date night.”

“Oh, no.”

“Next year we should do something that’s actually Christmas-related,” Mimi suggested. Michael laughed.

Leaning against the door jamb, Yamato quirked his brow at her. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Snowball fight?”

“Right, because it snows in December in Tokyo so often.”

“Well, baking cookies or… I don’t know, Michael, what’s a good Christmas activity?”

Michael blinked. “Uh… maybe Christmas carols?”

“Oh, that’s a good one! Yamato-san can play the guitar! And I can sing!”

“And the rest of us?” Sora asked, smiling.

“Eh, you can play the spoons.”

“I’ll spend next year practicing.”

Mimi grinned, and Michael tightened his grip around her shoulders. “Are Taichi-san and Koushirou-kun not going to come say good-bye?” Mimi asked.

“I’ll ask.” Yamato stuck his head into the adjacent room. “Mimi wants to know if you’re going to say good-bye.”

“Bye, Mimi,” Taichi’s voice shouted.

“See you,” Koushirou added. Neither seemed about to leave the position Mimi had last seen them, leaning side-bye-side against the fridge, Koushirou explaining some new MMORPG he was into and Taichi stealing every chance he could to plant kisses on the top of his head. She allowed herself a secret grin. Alright, so maybe her meddling had been out of line. But who was going to complain at this point?

Sora was planning to spend the night (chances were Koushirou would stay over too). Mimi and Michael were the last to leave, cradling Palmon and Betamon in their arms as their partners slept away. In the elevator, Michael bent over and kissed Mimi’s forehead.

“What was that for?” she asked, eyes sparkling.

He shrugged one shoulder. “Just because.”

“I like that reason.” They reached the first floor. “I’d return the sentiment but you’re rather taller than me.”

“Another time, then.”

“Tomorrow?”

“If you so desire.”

“I do so desire.” Her arms were full of Palmon so she couldn’t hold his hand, but she walked as closely as she could, bumping shoulders every other step. “I hope you had fun tonight.”

“Oh, I did. Your friends are a riot. And Betamon loved the chance to spend time with your partners.”

“I think he loved the food, mostly.”

“That too.”

The road they were on was well-lit with street lamps and fluorescent signs. Even at this hour, there were a fair number of cars rolling by. Michael wondered if Tokyo ever slept. New York City never got any true silence either, he reflected. Maybe, for that reason, he liked that he and Mimi could walk home together like this, not saying a word. Just being together.

They reached her apartment. “I’m not sure if I should invite you up,” she said. “Seems like a waste since you booked a hotel and all.”

“I’ll go to the hotel tonight. We can… talk tomorrow.” He chewed his lip a moment. “I noticed you guys didn’t exchange gifts.”

“Oh, yeah, we don’t do that so much on Christmas here.”

“Well, I brought you something, but I think I’ll give it to you tomorrow.” His heart thumped in his chest.

“Aw, you shouldn’t have! I don’t have anything for you.” She looked crestfallen for a half a second. Then she pumped her fist. “Come early tomorrow, I’ll make you breakfast!”

“Alright.” His throat felt dry. “Tomorrow, then.”

“It’s a date. Good-night, Michael.”

“Good-night, Mimi…”

Feelings of elation mixed with fear as he walked to the hotel alone. Love, he figured, was like that — the very height of emotion. More than any other earthly thing capable of creation or destruction and difficult to predict which. He fingered the little velvet box that had remained in his coat pocket all evening. Tomorrow — he’d wait until tomorrow. He’d wait a hundred years for love, and tomorrow, he’d make sure she knew it.

#digimonsecretsanta2017 #digimon #fizz writes

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