#exhibit Ch your honor

[juanabaloo]

Exhibit Ch - Your honor they love each other! (fuffy)

This is a pro-fuffy BTVS rewatch series. Kendra Appreciation Post! Exhibit Ch is a bonus / catchup review about Scott Hope, Kendra, and a few non-Faith episode recos. Long post.

1. Remember how I wanted Scott Hope to get one more episode so Buffy could prioritize Faith over him? Scott is literally never seen again after 3.03. I wanna review Scott Hope. In exhibit B.10 I mentioned that Scott does seem particularly insightful. Here’s a text montage of all the great Scott moments. Imagine “I will remember you” playing in the background.

“Uh, I'm sorry. I'm a bad liar. It's not good for the soul.” (3.03)

“You're friends with Buffy, right?” - to Faith (3.03)

“Faith has been telling me tall tales.” (3.03)

“my mom says that therapy can be completely helpful.” - to Buffy (3.04)

“I hope you realize I don't actually know these people.” - jokingly about Pete and Debbie (3.04)

“It's just that you never really know what's going on inside somebody.” - about Pete and Debbie after they both die (3.04) Y’all he realized he didn’t actually know them.

“Before we were going out, you seemed so full of life, like a force of nature. Now you just seem distracted all the time, and… I’m really sorry” - dumping Buffy (3.05) Buffy agrees she has been distracted.

2. Scott - in what little we see of him - is very honest. He says he’s a bad liar, he realizes Faith’s stories are at least exaggerated, he’s pro-therapy. And he’s not just honest but he verbalizes it. The way he dumps Buffy, Scott’s so fucking honest. Scott is mentioned again in the show 3 times, twice more in S3 and then once in S7.

3. Remember Buffy’s traumatic therapy experience in 3.04? Well her next therapy session is to Holden the psych major and new vamp she very vaguely remembers from high school. In 7.07 (Conversations with Dead People) Holden says: “Scott Hope said you were gay… He says that about every girl he breaks up with. And then last year, big surprise, he comes out.” Buffy acts surprised at hearing this news, that he called her gay. 

4. Granted, I could buy that Scott was repressed and gay in high school. But just because he came out eventually doesn’t mean he was lying. Also the “he says that about every girl” bit sounds OOC to me. Scott was insightful and honest when we saw him. I think this is the show queer-panicking again. “Oh no wait, Buffy can’t be gay! Or queer! Uhm….. yeah let’s add that Scott says that about every girl, oh yeah because he’s actually gay and therefore a lying liar.” Homophobic much? Silly show. Also am I picking and choosing to fit my argument? A little bit.

5. So in summary, Scott Hope is insightful and honest and calls Buffy gay, aka calls Buffy queer. She is so repressed / panicking that she is visually surprised by this in 7.07. Oh Buffy.

Alright, enough about Scott, let’s talk about Kendra!

6. Kendra is the Jamaican slayer that appears briefly in S2. The BTVS writers room was super white. There are several things they don’t do a great job with IMO, including the LA homeless scenes (3.01), queerness (in general and also being bi just doesn’t exist?), judaism, and sexual assault (*rages at multiple epis*). Sometimes the show is a little misogynistic (but not as bad as Angel, holy fuck that show) and a little racist. Or a lot. The racial diversity of the show is laughable, I mean late 90s California? Even in the LA episode (Anne 3.01) LA is just - mostly white? *cackles* (As a palate cleanser here’s a nice gifset featuring POC characters on BTVS and ATS.)

7. Interesting Black characters are given the short shrift, including Mr. Trick in S3. Kendra deserved better but at least we got a little glimpse of her. If you’re following along at home and but also trying to limit your BTVS intake, I recommend the following non-Faith-appearance catchup episodes: 2.09 (Kendra appears), 2.10 (Kendra heavy), 2.11 (the Ted episode), 2.21 (Becoming Part 1 - Kendra re-appears), 2.22 (Becoming Part 2 - to finish off the season). And 3.01 honestly, because limiting intake can be difficult, LOL.

8. ifeveristoday lays it out in this good short post on Kendra’s role / lore on the show, and how it could be better.

9. herinsectreflections explains Kendra is not one of Buffy’s shadow selves. This gifset by fuffygifs shows the scene parallel.

10. Kendra locks up Angel. Delight in her power over him, the way she laughs at him.

11. I vividly remember the scene where Buffy slow-motion runs through the school, it’s in the show openers. But what I had forgotten until this rewatch was that it’s her running to get back to everyone in the library, after her chat with Angelus in the cemetery, and she finds Kendra dead. (Because of Dru’s hypnosis powers.) My memory of the slow-mo was that Buffy’s so badass, but now it’s tinged with sadness bc she was trying and then fails to help / save her friends, including Kendra. Although really the only long-term damage is Kendra. *grumble*

12. OK the main scene I want to review is when Buffy and Kendra say goodbye in 2.10. Buffy calls herself a freak, which is a real insult in her mind. Kendra reassures her “not the only freak.” And then Buffy goes to hug Kendra, but Kendra doesn’t hug. So Buffy doesn’t. Can you imagine where this didn’t happen, like Kendra is OK with hugs. And then when Buffy meets Faith she hugs her at some point (not right away). Gah! They never hug right? Or Buffy isn't feeling like she caused Kendra's death and she's more open with Faith? (spuffygifs has the full gifset)

I gotta admit they did have chemistry.

OK, a smattering of links to Kendra gifsets I found:

nerd4music

dailybtvs

original andremichaux

andremichaux with tags people left

13. OK, a few thoughts on 3.01 Anne. Already unrealistic when it aired (Buffy somehow affords a studio apt on a waitress salary?) it’s achingly unrealistic now, in terms of money. Like Buffy would need 3 waitressing-type jobs and she’d still have 4 roomates in a craaap 2 BR apt that was falling apart.

14. SMG is giving a master class in acting in SO much of BTVS. The moment when she revolts is brilliant. Check it here (credit to deansmom and harrietvane and isagrimorie) proof that SMG made the acting choice, that it wasn’t that detailed in the script. (read the prev tags too, all of this is brilliant) Also we already know Buffy but this introduction of herself is great, on par with Faith-introducing-herself levels here. (the whole deansmom gifset and tags really sets the mood pre-"aggressive chipper shit talker" Buffy introducing herself)

I am not great at finding gifs on tumblr. Here are some bonus ones for prev exhibits:

Faith accidentally punching Buffy in 3.04. (Eliza apparently actually punched SMG IRL)

Faith shooting her shot in 3.05

Buffy’s unsure reaction in 3.05

No rating for this exhibit bc there’s no Faith. (Exhibit C had a they love each other rating of 2 out of 5.) Next exhibit will cover episode 3.07 Revelations. Exhibit Ch has been submitted, the prosecution rests for the day.

#buffy rewatch #fuffy #buffy x faith #your honor they love each other #exhibit Ch your honor #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #kendra young #buffy summers #long post #chosen two #bonus post #your honor series

[polarisgreenley]

A Bouquet of New Beginnings Ch. 16 "Peony I"

Floriography - Life & Honor

Summary: The First Trial of the Keepers and Other Traumatizing Events

[AO3]

Below is an excerpt of the chapter. Full chapter can be viewed from AO3 link above!

*There are trigger warnings listed within the end chapter notes on AO3, but the below excerpt is the section without any of the triggers involved.*

The steam smelled of honey and peony as the silver ladle created calm ripples across the magenta liquid. Sleeves rolled up of her sky-blue uniform, Artemis hummed her mother’s lullaby as she leaned over the Potions station before she stopped stirring and picked up the pestle and mortar. Mornings when she was tasked to brew and restock the apothecary were a boon, wherein she required just enough focus on a straightforward objective to not be distracted by unwanted thoughts.

“Professor Fig informed me that you were going on an exhibition this afternoon for your independent study.”

Her heart thudded loud against her ribcage as she lifted her gaze from the crushed myrtle petals. The gruff Potions professor’s eyes were lifted as he sat at his desk - a silent insistence to observe her brewing.

“Yes, sir. He was kind enough to offer to show me some of the ruins in the area for History of Magic,” answered Artemis succinctly.

That was technically true – Professor Fig did in fact state that the destined tower was heavily weathered, and they were going under the pretext of catching up on some sections of History of Magic. They couldn’t very well say that they were going to an old, abandoned tower that served as some sort of trial for ancient magic.

“I presume you are aware of the increased activity in the area?”

Again, Artemis nodded as she sprinkled in the crushed myrtle petals and adjusted the fire. The liquid was brought to a roiling boil as the mixture slowly rendered into a viscous pink whilst she stirred seven times counterclockwise.

“Inverto.”

The inversion magic left her wand, and the viscous pink shimmered before the colour dissolved into a milky white. Potent fertility inverted to a potent contraception – a simple idea with complex application. The binding spell in place, and the potion was complete. She poured a sample and gave it to Professor Sharp to test. A single drop of the potion coated the testing strip, and offered the visual of an upside-down peony – a success.

“Good,” commented Professor Sharp as he corked the vial. “Not many would get this potion right to this… potency.”

Artemis bit her inner cheek and bit back her comment; Professor Sharp lifted an eyebrow as he waved for her to finish up. The potion vials clinked together as she packed up, though her mind was now on the trial she’d undertake that afternoon. She hoped that whatever it was, she was ready.

“Miss Loreley,” cut in Professor Sharp as she was about to leave with the box filled with cushioned potion vials balanced on her hip. The professor made his way to her, a sealed roll of parchment in his hand.

“You are to work on this for the upcoming weeks. Ordinarily I wouldn’t be concerned but you… you ought to be prepared.”

“Sir?”

The parchment was tucked into the box.

“You are to work on these during the next few office hours. It would do well to bolster your arsenal other than just spells and Healing potions.”

Artemis blinked twice as she managed to dumbly nod.

The parchment was unfurled amidst Professor Binns’ monotonous review on a goblin rebellion in the 1300’s. Snores weren’t bothered to be concealed, and once again Artemis and Amit were the only two that seemed to remain remotely awake. Leander and Andrew fell asleep within five minutes. Poppy and Natsai made valiant efforts before they too succumbed; Ominis’ dark blond locks glowed softly in the spilled sunlight as he lasted perhaps a minute. Garreth and Sebastian, once again, did not show up.

Her eyes scanned over the parchment as she read the harsh calligraphic handwriting of Professor Sharp, and tilted her head. Sticky Solution was written on the top with a list of ingredients and directions. This looked like an original recipe. Giddy excitement bubbled in her chest at the prospect.

Ominis shivered slightly next to her even as he slept. She envied that he, and frankly every other person, could take a nap. Professor Binns glided by, and a pleasant coolness settled around them. Or rather, it was pleasant to her; everyone else seemed to shiver in their varied states of slumber.

She snuck another look at Ominis, who’d taken to using his arm as a standing pillow. He’d kept her request to keep silent about her embarrassing panic; she knew Sebastian would have relentlessly asked otherwise. She still wondered what she’d missed between the two of them when the topic of where to practise the spell came about, but that was beside the point. The point was that Ominis didn’t need to keep silent, and yet he did.

Her mind flitted to the purple hyacinth that now stood atop her desk in its vase. She sent a gentle warming charm from under her desk toward him, and Ominis’ shoulders relaxed. With a small smile, she continued to read up on the new potions recipe.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #a bouquet of new beginnings #aesop sharp #eleazar fig #the keepers #percival rackham #charles rookwood #ancient magic #artemis loreley

[saizov]

mint : does your muse view themself as virtuous & moral ? what do these words mean to them ?

⊱⊳『 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆. 』

LONG. ( So under a cut. )

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃.

( REVELATIONS. CH. 11 )

Saizo: Kotaro of Mokushu...you will answer to me. Kotaro: I answer to no one. Who are you to suggest otherwise? Saizo: I am Saizo the Fifth, servant to the Hoshidan royal family. Kotaro: Saizo...that's familiar. I believe I've murdered others of your pitiful lineage. Saizo: You--! How dare you. My father was an honorable man. Kotaro: Honorable? Maybe. Weak? Definitely. That balding old fool had the audacity to lecture ME! So, naturally...I put an end to his life. Saizo: I knew you were the one responsible for his death. Coward!

( CONQUEST. CH. 17 )

Saizo: A fitting end [said about Kotaro]. Father...you have been avenged. May you rest in peace now.

( &RYOMA ; SUPPORT CONVO. )

( B SUPPORT ) Ryoma: It can't be easy, working in the shadows. Some of your job are ethically dubious. But you discharge your duty without complaint. Saizo: I do what is expected of me, my lord. Ryoma: But the high risk you undertake ought to merit a correspondingly high reward. And right now our army does not have the funds to compensate you properly. I thought this might be cause for some dissatisfaction. Saizo: Never, my lord! These things couldn't be further from my thoughts.

( A SUPPORT ) Ryoma: But it's normal to consider the well-being of my subjects. Especially my retainers. Saizo: You call it normal, but it is not common. The great ninja who have borne the Saizo name pass into legend. Samurai boast that they will die for a truly honorable master, but so too will a ninja. To know ourselves and to serve a master who knows us is our greatest calling. For your part, simply continue to walk the path you have chosen. I find no greater joy than to help you down it from the shadows.

𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐒.

OVERALL, Saizo exhibits very little regard to himself about things outside of his work and his ability to do said work. This is made apparent in the way he hassles Laslow in their support ( although it is not listed in the BACKGROUND. section ) over what Saizo deems the man's incompetency to be able to defend his lord. Otherwise, Saizo's first thought is not himself -- it's his liege, whether or not someone's made some unsavory comment about his liege, is Kaze still alive and kicking out there somewhere, Kagero better not have gotten captured again : those sorts of things. Work-related things. He displays a haughtiness over his own abilities, but only because they relate to his work.

As for his morality and opinion/beliefs on right vs. wrong, his face-off with Kotaro ( the dialogue, specifically ) suggests that he comes from a line of honorable ninja, seeing as he declares that the last Saizo was an honorable man. With this in mind, you could assume he was raised under honorable principles and with a generally conscious upbringing of what was and wasn't considered honorable.

Furthermore, the Conquest quote still occurs during his fight with Kotaro ( who killed his father ), but it's the only version of that quote where Saizo adds, "may you rest in peace now." Saizo didn't see living on in his father's name as something that would give his father peace after death ; he saw killing his father's killer as something that would. That's not . . . really honorable. That's murder, if you look at it realistically. That's not honorable, but, to Saizo, it feels honorable because it's revenge. That doesn't make it honorable, despite how it feels.

This is where the divergence becomes apparent: he believes in honor, but his version of honorable isn't moral.

Then, in his support with Ryoma, his liege makes notice that doing ethically questionable things may not sit well with Saizo, which Saizo dismisses almost instantly with the good ol' "I'm merely doing my duty. If it must be done, consider that I'll have it done." There's no obvious declaration from Saizo's side that what he's doing makes him uncomfortable. It's just what has to be done. Why doesn't it bother him? This is the same guy that thought killing his father's killer would avenge his father. Doing something dubious with good intentions is perfectly fine with Saizo, whereas doing something dubious may be off-putting to others. It doesn't bother him.

WHY this doesn't bother him becomes clear in his A-support with Ryoma: it's a ninja's calling to serve an honorable master, even if Saizo himself has to do dark things. Then, at least his liege is not. That's his entire driving point now: do the dark stuff so Lord Ryoma may rest easy and guilt-free. There's no time to bring morals into play because Saizo doesn't really regard morals, despite how honorable his upbringing was implied to be by the claim that his father was honorable.

Morality, to him, is very gray. It may even be a darker shade of gray. Wrong is right as long as the outcome is right: as long as he's the one hefting the burden and someone else isn't, primarily his liege. But, his support with Kaze ( also not listed ) indicates that he bore the shame of his father's death for quite a while on his own so that Kaze and others didn't. Wrong is right as long as the outcome is right & the people involved on his end are alright. Himself? Not the point.

#⊱⊳『 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐄 』( HC. ) #//really insightful to explore a complex morality. I had so much fun finding evidence for this!

[neoninky]

TWST Fanfic 'Her Ivory Crown': Chapter 1

Hello everyone!

I'm rebuilding my Tumblr from the ground up so I will be reposting the chapters of my two completed TWST Canon x OC stories on here once again, chapter by chapter~

For anyone unfamiliar with this series of stories I have dubbed the Sacred Crown Chronicles, here is the summary of the introductory story, Her Ivory Crown:

"For the very first time, the students of Night Raven College will be hosting a joint festival on their campus not only with their rivals at Royal Sword Academy but their sister school Sacred Crown Hall, a prestigious all-girls magic school, as well. Tensions were already high but will the lovely and lively girls push the boys' rivalry to a whole new level?? The boys of Heartslabyul especially are on edge when news of the Rose Queendom's crown princess is among NRC's enchanting visitors. For better or worse, this will be a festival no one will soon forget."

I welcome all new readers and encourage those of you who have read these stories to definitely share them and enjoy them again and again :)

Ch. 1: The Headmaster's Announcement

The Night Raven College rarely witnessed a boring day. Today was no exception. The dorm leaders listened to Crowley explain the upcoming joint school event in a ring of mixed emotions. Some were confused, others intrigued if not excited, and some were annoyed...or perhaps it was just Leona. Not only would they have to put up with seeing their rivals from Royal Sword Academy for a week but also...

"Yes, that is correct!" Crowley said with enthusiasm, "for the very first time, our campus will welcome the students of the top all-girls magical school in the country, Sacred Crown Hall!"

His enthusiasm was met with short, stunned silence before Crowley switched into a more business-like tone, "With that said, I am counting on all of you to keep your dorms in check. Making a good first impression is key! Impressing the prestigious sister school of that pompous-AHEM er-fine Royal Sword Academy certainly calls for the hospitality of a higher caliber!"

"Of course, Headmaster." Riddle respectfully said, blatantly ignoring Kalim's excited outbursts and Idia's anxious rambling across the room. 

"Uwaaaah! Scarabia will host an amazing party for them!!" Kalim smiled confidently, already making plans, each more over the top than the one before. Meanwhile, the floating tablet next to him seemed to be having a panic attack. A certain lion could only muster a bored yawn in response. Crowley cleared his throat and continued.

"Now then, they shall arrive the day before the opening of the festival to tour our campus and-"

He proceeded to ramble off more and more details regarding the festival schedule and the like. In the past, Night Raven College would take part in culture, academic, and sports festivals along with their rival school but this year for the first time, they were hosting an all-inclusive event combining activities from previous ones such as academic and research presentations, exhibits from various culture clubs from all three schools, a Magift match, and even a music contest throughout the week. On the final day of the festival, a newly added event was added to the roster: a mixed formal dance between the three schools. This also received a myriad of reactions from the dorm leaders. 

"It's bad enough we have to put up with those prissy princes from Royal Sword but now we have to entertain a bunch of stuck-up princesses too?" Leona yawned, "Can't they just dress up and twirl around with those Royal halfwits instead?" 

"Kingscholar, you will keep such thoughts to yourself," Crowley sternly scowled at the unimpressed lion, "while not all of the Sacred Crown students hail from royalty, we will be HONORED-"the Headmaster forcibly emphasized-"by the presence of such royals as the newly chosen heir of the Rose Queendom. Whom I am told is the very reason we are even having this dance, to begin with. So again, I cannot stress enough how important it is that no one makes a fool of me-AHEM-the-themselves!" 

Riddle visually stiffened at the mention of his homeland's crown princess. Her Highness? Here?! The small crimson head would sooner die than let his dorm out of everyone make utter fools of themselves in the presence of their future queen! The roses must be perfectly saturated! And of course, only the best tea sets and the high-quality tea-but which was her favorite?! But above all else, ball etiquette lessons for the entire dorm are a MUST!! His mind was traveling at light speed, so quickly to the point that Crowley's questions regarding the planning committee's progress went completely unheard.

"Mr. Rosehearts? Are you still with us??" Crowley wasn't sure if he should be annoyed or concerned, judging from the dead-serious yet worried expression on Riddle's face. Riddle suddenly snapped out of it and immediately back into his usual collected poise, "Yes Headmaster, forgive me. I have the reports right here."

As soon as the meeting was finished, Azul turned to the small dorm leader to swap notes regarding the food booths that would be in attendance but Riddle had seemed to vanish immediately.

-

Back at the Heartslabyul dorm, the usual crew was in the gardens tidying up after the last croquet match while Riddle was in his meeting. Cater nearly dropped his phone into the closest teapot when Riddle suddenly appeared in the gardens with a shout, "Everyone stop what you are doing! We're having an emergency meeting IMMEDIATELY!" While it was true that Riddle had lightened up considerably over the year, Trey and Cater both were shocked to see him so...frazzled?? After an intense albeit rushed explanation, the frazzled sensation quickly spread to the rest of Heartslabyul.

"The rose princess is a student at Sacred Crown?! And she's coming HERE?!" Cater temporarily forgot his phone upon this revelation. Deuce and Ace were still stuck on the first detail, however.

"They're letting female students visit Night Raven College?!" Deuce felt his head pounding from all the alarms going off inside his brain. He could barely even make eye contact with ONE normal girl, much less several highly ranked - and no doubt - very attractive girls! Ace was more excited at the thought than nervous. The smirk on his face quickly disappeared under the sharp scowl from Riddle.

"Correct. The students of Sacred Crown Hall are the top female magician students in the country so it stands to reason that Her Highness will not be the only member of high rank in attendance," Riddle paused to carefully stare down each member of Heartslabyul in front of him, "Naturally, I expect every single one of you to be at your very best during the festival. Whether you are participating or just a spectator, it doesn't matter. If anyone from Heartslabyul does ANYTHING to make our visitors uncomfortable, I won't hesitate to use 'Off With Your Head' and assign proper punishments. Is that clear?"

Trey had never seen his juniors in such a frozen state of terror. And that was saying something. Across the waters on a much smaller island offshore, the dorm leaders of Sacred Crown were also fighting to contain themselves under the ethereal gaze of their headmistress. The white-haired fairy godmother turned school administrator spoke in a gentle voice laced with a bit of sternness.

"As you know, my dears, this will be our social debut with the students of Night Raven College. Our brother school, Royal Sword Academy, will be in attendance as well. Therefore, I expect all of you to uphold yourselves and the students of your dorms to the highest standard of Sacred Crown Hall. No funny business, understood?"

A couple of the leaders gave each other mischievous grins as they all chimed sweetly in unison

"Yes, Headmistress."

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

@foxwitchaine

@iscarlettappel

@1ndigowitch

@nuitthegoddess

@wysteriadelights

@aiimee9

#neoninky #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #twisted wonderland #twst oc x canon #sacred crown chronicles #twst oc schools #twst dorms #sacred crown hall #night raven college #her ivory crown #ch 1 #reupload

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Sunday, July 3

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Roadblock (Giles, Buffy, T) by il_mio_capitano

Just Call My Name (I'll Be There in a Hurry) (Crossover with Guardians of the Galaxy 2, T) by

Therapy in Session (Crossover with Teen Wolf, M) by skargasm

Come into My Parlor (Buffy/Spike, E) by cawthraven

Do You Like My Lips of Spike? (Buffy/Spike, T) by cawthraven

Just Tell Her (Buffy/Giles, T) by ElleV

Skinnydipping (E, Faith/reader) by winifredsandersonsbitch

From Here to Eternity (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by honeygirl51885

[Chaptered Fiction]

Something Blue's Clues, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, G) by cawthraven

Infiltré, Chapter 6 (French language- Buffy/Spike, K+) by MissKitty28

waiting on you, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Angel, T) by bonniesfire

Well, what do we have here? Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Blackmysteria

Deeper than Blood, Chapter 21 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Blackmysteria

Inhuman Behavior, Chapter 7 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by violettathepiratequeen

Exquisite Clarity: Part 2, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by yellowb, sandy_s, all_choseny, sweeprincipale, acekoomboom, SzmattyCat, IceBlueRose, Dusty, Cosmic Tuesdays, and Yummysushi17

The Sin That Binds Us, Chapter 4 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by bramcrackers

Across Ages, Chapter 20 (Buffy/Spike, R) by Isabeau

Anything We Want, Chapter 26 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by scratchmeout

You Can't Fight Fate - But You Can Go Around Him, Chapter 32 (Crossover with Young Justice, FR15) by Hermionetobe

A weapon of victory, Chapter 5 (Crossover with Lord of the Rings, FR7) by fpb

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork:Stylized Fuffy by gh0stlypup

Artwork:Stylized Spike by k1lljoys-make-some-noise

Moodboard: Willow Rosenberg by fallensapphires

Manip gifset:TOP 10 BTVS EPISODES (AS VOTED BY MY FOLLOWERS): Welcome to the Hellmouth by usermaxie

Manip gifset:5.12 | “Checkpoint” by spikedaily

Manip gifset:TOP 10 BTVS EPISODES (AS VOTED BY MY FOLLOWERS): The Gift by usermaxie

Manip gifset:Great quotes - 3.11 | 5.03 by summersblood

Video: Willow Rosenberg Best Moments | Season 1 | Buffy the Vampire Slayer by Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Video: Anya Hating BUNNIES | Buff the Vampire Slayer by Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Video: Imagine Dragon - Believer (Buffy the Vampire Slayer edit) by K-you

[Reviews & Recaps]

SHE'S A KEY?? - Buffy the Vampire Slayer Reaction - 5x5 - No Place Like Home by TheLexiCrowd

Buffy 2x11 Ted (REACTION!) by Big Time Knights

Buffy The Vampire Slayer 3x21 - "Graduation Day (Part 1)" Reaction by DodoReactions

SEASON 5 OH MY! Buffy, the Vampire Slayer 5x1 'Buffy vs. Dracula' Reaction! by Elie Moses

PODCAST: Checkpoint S5 E12 by Buffy and the Art of Story

[Fandom Discussions]

Buffy Summers would be so into the living wage idea and actively work to get all active Slayers a living wage... by isagrimorie

On Xander's lie in Becoming by coraniaid

Exhibit Ch - Your honor they love each other! (fuffy) by juanabaloo

Angel Season 5 rewatch - #4 Hell Bound continued by Stoney and GoSpuffy

Angel Season 5 Rewatch - #5 Life of the Party (SPOILERS) by multiple authors

They completely wasted Sunnydale High in season 7 barely used it by jdpm1991

Anyone else feel like Lorne shouldn't had been in season 3-5? by multiple authors

I’m honestly a little conflicted to finish Angel after 10+ years by multiple authors

About Empty Places.... by kurtney_ and multiple authors

What are some episodes you hate that you think most fans would be surprised by that fact ? by multiple authors

The whole "Im broke" arc in S6 and 7 was unnecessary. by multiple authors

First Watch (vaguely anti-Bangel) by multiple authors

Spike and Angel's accents by multiple authors

Anyone like 4x13, The I in Team? by multiple authors

What do you think would’ve happened if Riley heard Buffy and stayed? by multiple authors

who are two characters that never met but would make great friends? by multiple authors

your first episode by multiple authors

Favorite small, almost forgettable moments that are actually brilliant. by jim25y and multiple authors

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

PUBLICATION: The Vampire Slayer Introduced a Killer New Spin on a Buffy Icon via CBR

PUBLICATION: Stranger Things Characters & Their Buffy The Vampire Slayer Counterparts via ScreenRant

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[brightstar1001]

Quality Anaheim Hills Garage

top 5 Most well-liked Garage open Styles for Anaheim Hills

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[blackswan18]

Too Good To Be True - Ch. 12 | kth (m)

Summary: Kim Taehyung is a world famous idol in the hit K-pop group, BTS, and you are his personal stylist. Per your contract with BigHit, he is absolutely, 100% off-limits, and yet, you are completely and hopelessly in love with him. You’ve spent years trying to shove your feelings down, but it’s getting harder and harder to ignore and hide them, especially considering the way Tae always treats you. He’s affectionate and protective and sometimes outright flirtatious, but that’s how he is with everyone, right? Confused, frustrated, and lovesick, you find yourself wondering if it might finally be worth risking your career and your heart to find out.

pairing: Taehyung x reader

genre: Idol! au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, friends to lovers, slow burn

rating: 18+

word count: 2.1k

warnings: cursing

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Chapter 12: The Way Things Are - Part 2

It was rather dark in the room with the main source of light coming from overhead spotlights which illuminated six large statues along the perimeter. There was scaffolding along one of the walls, and a heap of equipment in one corner, which explained the construction tape outside. In the middle of the room were several rows of display cases filled with what looked to be very old, very delicate, and very precious artifacts; there were ornately-carved sculptures, jewel-clad vases and gold-plated war relics. However, the doors to all of the cases were surprisingly wide open, the pile of cleaning products at the base of one suggesting that the museum was taking advantage of the exhibit closure to spruce things up.

The fact that all of those artifacts were just sitting there out in the open made you shudder; you were most definitely not supposed to be here with access to them.

“Tae,” you whisper-shouted, a slight hint of panic in your voice. “We really shouldn’t be in here.”

“Wow, these are incredible,” he said, clearly ignoring your warning as he walked over to one of the statues.

Growing increasingly nervous, you went over to where he was standing on the far side of the room.

As you walked over to him, you thought back to the warning Mrs. Choi had given you and the rest of the stylists earlier in the day. She had repeated numerous times that it was an honor for the museum to have allowed the team to film there and reminded everyone to be respectful and considerate at all times. She had looked directly at you when she said that, which at the time pissed you off, but now here you were, clearly taking advantage of the museum’s hospitality and violating its rules.

“Tae,” you said more firmly, tugging on his sleeve as you spoke. “C’mon, we really need to go. It’s definitely against the rules for us to be here.”

“I’m tired of the rules,” he said wearily, though with an unmistakable bite to his tone, as his eyes remained trained on the statue like he was in some sort of trance.

You stared at him blankly, having no idea what that was supposed to mean. When you tugged at his sleeve again, this time much harder, and he didn't budge or even so much as blink, you gave up and let go.

This was definitely not the time or place for him to be having some sort of crisis and staging a rebellion. He might be an untouchable national treasure who wouldn’t get in trouble if someone found him in here, but you certainly weren’t. You needed to get out of this room now.

Having begun frantically pacing back and forth, you were contemplating whether or not you should just walk out and leave him here when he finally broke out of his trance.

“How come you always turn down Hyun?” he suddenly asked, turning to face you with a curious expression.

Your breath caught in your throat as you abruptly stopped pacing. Surely, he had not just asked that question.

“W-What?” you stammered out nervously.

“Hyun,” he repeated calmly. “He’s asked you out several times, but you always say no.”

Immediately, all of the stress you had been feeling about getting caught morphed into stress over how you were going to survive this line of questioning and casually play things off. If you had been anxious before, you were about to have a full-on panic attack now. Even under normal circumstances you would not have been prepared to have this conversation with him, but right now, in your current state, you were so unsettled that it was hard to think straight.

“Like I said,” you replied shakily as you turned away to look at the statue. “I-I don’t have time.”

He didn’t say anything for a few moments and you thought perhaps he was going to leave it at that, but then he spoke again.

“And that’s really the reason?” he challenged. “That you don’t have time to date because of our schedule?”

Your heart stopped.

The obvious reason you didn’t date was because he was the only person you wanted to be with. However, you’d be lying if you said that your crazy schedule didn’t make you feel like it would be near impossible to spend enough time with someone else to truly get over him. You were just with him too much; he was an integral part of your life, one that you didn’t think could be removed even with the help of someone else’s love.

“Yea, it is,” you replied, the admission somewhat truthful.

He seemed genuinely surprised and perhaps even a bit disappointed by your answer so you tried to explain.

“I mean, our schedule is really busy and also pretty erratic,” you went on. “And then we’re sometimes gone for months at a time when we’re on tour or doing a trip like the one we did to America earlier this year.”

“It’s kind of hard to have a relationship with someone you never see,” you concluded quietly.

As you said those words, you were reminded that this was exactly why, even in your fantasies where Tae loved you back, it would still never work. If you left Big Hit you could be with him, but then you would hardly ever get to be with him. If you stayed at Big Hit you couldn’t be with him, but at least you would always get to be with him. It was a lose-lose situation.

However, the decision was one you didn’t have to worry about; it was already made for you. No matter where you worked you were never going to be with him, so the only option was to stay at Big Hit and at least be with him.

He didn’t say anything for a minute or so, he just stood there looking at you, considering your words.

“Yea, I get what you mean,” he finally said rather tiredly as he turned back towards the statue.

“I would hate having to always be away from the person I was supposed to be with,” he then added dejectedly.

You looked over at him to find him wearing an unmistakably guilty expression which made your heart hurt. He told you all the time how bad he felt that you didn’t get to see your family that often and that you sometimes had to miss holidays and important events because of shoots or shows. He was always reminding you to visit people and take trips and do fun things when you had the time. He clearly believed BTS’s schedule to be the reason why you didn’t date and felt at least partially responsible for it.  

“Tae, please don’t get me wrong,” you said earnestly. “The crazy schedule and lack of free time is a sacrifice I’m willing to make. I love my job. I love working at Big Hit with you and the rest of the guys. I’m proud of what we’ve all accomplished as a team these last few years and I know we have even bigger things still ahead of us.”

When you said that, he turned back to face you with a small smile.

“I’ve worked really hard to get where I am right now, especially after how much I struggled in college,” you added quietly. “I wouldn’t want anything to take away from or jeopardize that.”

But, at those words, his smile dropped slightly, no doubt as he thought about everything you’d told him that night in the studio.

“Of course,” he said wistfully. “We wouldn’t want that.”

Silence then fell between the two of you as you both gazed up at the carefully carved stone block before you.

“So you're happy then?” he tentatively asked a few minutes later. “With the way things are?”

You thought about his question for a moment. Were you happy? You didn’t really know how to answer that. You certainly could be happier, but you weren’t necessarily unhappy. You got to spend almost every day with the person you loved most in the world. You weren’t with him, but you got enough of his time and platonic affection that you could survive. At the end of the day, that was still better than any realistic alternative.

“Yea, I am,” you replied contentedly after a moment.

“Well, that’s good then,” he said with a smile, though there was a hint of sadness in his voice. “If you’re happy then I’m happy.”

Feeling that was a good place to end this incredibly stressful conversation, you were about to again suggest that the two of you leave when suddenly you heard the door start to open behind you. Before you even had time to panic, Tae grabbed you and backed you against the wall behind the statue. He had one hand covering your mouth and the other on your hip. Your hands, which had shot up automatically, were resting on his chest.

“Hello?” you heard a man’s gruff voice call out.

Tae quickly took his hand away from your mouth and instead pressed it to his own lips in the shush sign. You wordlessly nodded your head in reply. He then placed his hand against the wall beside your head while the other remained on your hip to keep you from shaking.

“Is someone in there?” the man demanded. As he spoke, he started shining a flashlight into the room. From his authoritative voice, you guessed he must be a security guard, which instantly set you even more edge.

You felt Tae’s grip grow stronger as he stepped forward to avoid being seen, leaning into you in the process. His gaze then found yours as the two of you held your breath and waited.

The beam of light traveled all over the room, stopping several times on the statue behind which you were hiding. You heard the security guard take a tentative step into the room, and for a terrifying moment you thought for sure he had seen you, but then he stopped.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, you heard him click off the flashlight, step backwards, and close the door. You both immediately breathed a sigh of relief, but neither of you moved. Instead, you remained frozen in that tight embrace, your eyes locked.

All at once you became aware of just how close he was; his face was mere inches from your own, close enough that you could feel his breath. The feeling of his muscular body pressed up against yours and his big hand gripping your waist was utterly intoxicating. You felt lightheaded and dizzy and weak as the restraint you had spent years carefully building slowly dissolved.

The urge to kiss him was suddenly overwhelming and your fingers reflexively gripped his shirt to pull him in. His hold on you tightened ever so slightly in response, and for the briefest of moments you thought you felt him moving closer, but then he abruptly let go and stepped back.

“W-We should get out of here,” he said in a hoarse voice, turning away from you as he spoke.

“Yea,” you agreed, trying not to sound breathless. “We should.”

~~~

You and Tae snuck out of the exhibit, quickly walked back to the museum entrance, and then parted ways, all without saying a word to each other. When you got back to the prep room, everything was already packed and loaded into the van. The shoot was obviously over and people were heading towards the parking lot. As you grabbed your one remaining bag and started out the door, you tried to wrap your head around what the fuck had just happened.

There were a million thoughts running through your mind, and you felt wholly confused about virtually all of them, but there were two things that you knew for sure: you had clearly tried to kiss him just now and he had pulled away from you in response.

Your ankle now unbelievably sore and tired, it took you forever to limp over to the stairs. On the way there, you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize Tae had been waiting for you on the first step. He didn’t say anything when you got there, though; he didn’t even look at you. He just wrapped his long, slender fingers around your free hand like he did earlier. The two of you then made your way up slowly, one step at a time, a strange silence hanging between you.

When you finally reached the top of the stairs he paused for a moment like he was going to say something, but then just gave your hand a little squeeze before letting go and wordlessly walking away.

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#taehyung x reader #kim taehyung #bts taehyung #kth x reader #kth series #kth fluff #kth angst #kth smut #kth #bts #btsv #kth tgtbt

[queen-scribbles]

The Long Burning Torch ch 2

Oh, look, there more! :D Second chapter for my Ryn/Red 20s AU brought you by @shepherds-of-haven ‘s summer event 

------

True to his word, Red called just a couple days later--with supremely perfect timing, too; Xaeryn had just returned from following a lead. She was in the process of unpinning her hat when the telephone rang and she ll but dove across the room, hatpin in hand, to answer it.

“Shrike Investigations,” she said with that borderline-cheerful professionalism people expected from anyone running a business.

“Xaeryn?” He sounded curious verging on concerned. “Everything alright?”

“Oh, hittin’ on all eight,” she assured him with a breathless laugh. “I just got back from chasing down a lead.” She left off how literal that was this time as she glared at the mud on her shoes. “He was... more help than he meant to be, I think. I’m just grateful it didn’t turn into another dead-end.”

Red laughed. “Glad to hear it.” The line crackled a bit in the moment’s silence before he continued, “I had a chance to do some research, turned up a few interesting things.”

Generally interesting, or Red-interesting? Xaeryn wondered with a fond smile, remembering his fascination with even the minutiae of everything he read. “Like what?” 

“At least some of what happened to the pendent after the Solimer lost it, and it’s a bit of a mess.” He laughed again, sheepishly this time, and Xaeryn pictured him running a hand through his hair. “It’s better explained in person. Should I come to you--”

“I’ll come there,” Xaeryn offered. “You’re doing me a favor, it’s the least I can do. And besides” --she grinned, even knowing he couldn’t see her-- “it’s a long drive and I wouldn’t want you to forget any of your notes.”

There was a long-suffering sigh, punctuated by a chuckle that made the line pop. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“No more than you let me live down the apple tree,” she retorted sweetly. “Does it work for me to come today? The guild’s getting antsy with the exhibit date drawing closer, but if you’re busy...”

“I have a lecture in... just under an hour.” Red paused, likely doing the same travel time vs lecture time calculations she was. “If you left soon, you’d probably get here just as I’m finishing, we could talk after?”

“Sounds good to me,” Xaeryn said scraping mud off her shoe against the chair leg. “I’ll see you in a couple hours, then.”

“Mm, see you then.”

She took a moment examining her shoes after they hung up and decided it would be best to change them before she left. Wouldn’t want to be tracking mud through Solhadur’s halls.

---

She couldn’t entirely bite back a laugh when she arrived and found Red behind his desk, the pencil woven between his fingers tapping against one of the three books open across the desk’s surface. “Well, I just lost a five lyss wager.”

“Huh?” His hair fell in his eyes when he looked up. “Over what?”

Xaeryn smiled as she leaned against the edge of the desk. “I was certain you would get carried away with jawing about whatever your lecture was on and I would be here first. Fortunately it was a wager with myself” --she leaned over to peek at what he was reading--”so there’s no real loss.”

Red laughed and nudged one of the books toward her. “Normally you would have won. I thought of something I wanted to double-check before you got here, so I made sure to end on time. The students thank you for that, by the way.”

She snickered and skimmed through the presented history text. “They’re most welcome. What did you learn?”

Red pushed out of his chair and circled the desk to give them the same angle on the book she held. “There’s a decade or so immediately after its loss that’s unaccounted for, but there are records from travelers who mention encountering a warlord deep in Jalis territory with a pendent that sounds an awful lot like Solimer’s torch. Here.” He leaned over to flip a few pages back from where she was and pointed at a sketched illustration.

While rudimentary in nature, it did bear a striking resemblance to the photographs Mr. Syndran had given her. Xaeryn hummed a quiet agreement, noting the sketched pendent seemed to be on an armband rather than loose as it was now, as she started reading the relevant text around the illustration. 

“Lean on details,” she frowned, tracing a finger over the words as she read.

“That one is,” Red agreed. “They were more concerned with other things, barely mention the pendent in their description of the warlord. It’s just the only one with an illustration.” He tugged the book away from her, swapped it for one of the others. “Going off the description, I think this is the same piece. But you can draw your own conclusions.” He sat in one of the chairs and Xaeryn stayed perched on the edge of the desk, one foot swinging idly a few inches off the ground as she read.

From the sound of it--bronze coiled around a jet black stone, said to be its owner’s lucky talisman--she was inclined to agree with Red.  The territory of this warlord, however, was rather far from the usual routes ascribed to the Solimer’s desert travels. How did it get there? she mused. Likely during the decade it had vanished, but she couldn’t even begin to guess the method. She’ was just finishing with the account when she caught Red smiling out of the corner of her eye.

She let the book dip to look at him instead. “What?”

Red’s eyes twinkled as he nodded at the hem of her mid-calf skirt. “That lead you mentioned chasing earlier wouldn’t have involved mud puddles, would it?”

Xaeryn followed his gaze and groaned at the mud staining the dusky rose fabric. “I wasn’t expecting him to run,” she muttered, flicking at the mud with one hand as she moved to the other chair.

“Your suspects usually just wait around, obligingly, for you to interrogate them, then?” 

She rolled  her eyes at his teasing tone and briefly debated whacking him with the book. “He wasn’t a suspect, he was a witness,” she retorted primly, setting the book back on his desk. “Potentially. Though with how cagey he was being, it wouldn’t surprise me if he was guilty of something.”

“A mystery for another day,” Red said with a grin.

“Precisely. As for today’s mystery, have you found anything more recent than this?” She tapped the book. “It’s still several hundred years ago.”

“Not much, and some of it’s contradictory; that’s part of why I said in person was better.” He ran one hand through his hair. “That territory is so deep in the Jalis desert, not many go there and come out again. Those who don’t live there frequently die visiting.”

“Charming place,” Xaeryn said dryly.

“Mmhm. It makes getting records difficult, to say the least. There’s a mention of this warlord’s territory being conquered by another, but no mention of what was taken as potential spoils, and the next thing I’ve found resembling Solimer’s torch is is when it was discovered in the grave of a different chieftain, name unknown--though there are theories--a hundred years ago and almost two hundred miles from where the nearest previous records indicated it being.”

“How’s a chieftain’s name unknown?” she frowned. 

“He was buried with the honors afforded warlords and chieftains, but any record of his identity had worn off in the desert wind, if it was there in the first place,” Red explained.

“And these theories about who he was?” 

“Numerous and with various levels of support,” he said wryly. “But if you want the longer version...?”

Xaeryn chuckled. “Always.” 

They spent the next hour or so discussing the myriad guesses people had made as to this mystery chieftain’s name, as well as the other details Red had unearthed about the pendent, and various sources’ credibility. They only got caught up in one or two rabbit trails of good-natured debate over peer review and scholarly reputation or historical patterns of desert travel. (Which was pretty good for them.)

“There are a lot of gaps,” Red acknowledged, thumbing the pages of one book. “But I have a lot more I can read to help with filling them in.” He twirled one hand to gesture at the shelves that lined the room.

“You don’t have to-”

“Xaeryn, have you ever known me to be unhappy reading a book?” he asked with a warm smile.

“Well, no,” Xaeryn laughed. “But you’re so busy now, Headmaster.”

Red arched a brow but didn’t further protest her use of the title. “I always have time for you,” he said with a shrug, then cleared his throat and pushed to his feet even as her heart pounded and she sternly informed herself he hadn’t meant it like that. (She was grateful his circling the desk meant he missed the moment of broken composure that surely flashed across her face.) “And research is even more fun when it’s for a purpose. Bottom line for you so far...” He picked up his dropped pencil and started shuffling through everything on his desk in search of paper.

She grinned and held out her notepad. “Here.”

He flashed a sheepish smile as he took it. “Thank you.” He flipped to the first blank page and started writing as he talked. “Descendants of either that unknown chieftain or the one whose wife originally found the torch would have the strongest claims of ownership.”

“If I can find them,” Xaeryn said dryly. “And if one of them’s not already the owner on record who lent the pendent to the exhibit.” She bit her lower lip. “I think I need to talk to Mr. Syndran again.”

And depending on what he told her, her own research into genealogy might be called for.

“Probably your best next step.” Red finished writing and handed back her notepad, several pages scrawled with bullet-points summation of what he’d found.  “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” Xaeryn smiled when she saw the notes were in their shorthand.  “Nice touch.”

He smiled and raised one shoulder in a shrug. “It takes less space, and you did say this is a secret...”

“Very true.” She flipped the pad closed and tucked it back in her handbag. “I really do appreciate your help, this wasn’t a a small request, and you got me some answers in very short order.”

“I’m not done reading, Xaeryn,” Red said, voice rife with amusement. He waved at the surrounding shelves again. “Like I said, there’s a lot more to check.”

I always have time for you.

“As long as you don’t mind, I would love to hear anything else you learn,” Xaeryn said with a smile. Far be it from her to stand between Liefred Antiqua and a research project he was excited about. She’d sooner snatch an ice cream away from a child. 

“I’ll call if I find anything else useful,” Red promised, already shifting toward one bookshelf.

She nodded, biting back a laugh and hoping he had a very loose definition of the word ‘useful’. “I’ll look forward to that, then.” Her neck and ears warmed and she hastily added, “more information is always helpful.” She stood, flicking at the stubborn mud on her skirt again. Next time she went interview-hunting, she was wearing trousers. “Though you have me off to an excellent start.” She headed for the door, paused with her hand on the knob. “Thank you for that, Liefred.”

“Anytime.” He leaned against the corner of his desk. “You can still call me Red, y’know, Xaeryn. Everyone does, so it’s hardly going to seem too familiar.”

True as that might be here at Solhadur, Haven was a different story. And she wouldn’t want to slip up. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Xaeryn said softly. “Until next time?”

“Mm-hm.” Something flickered in his eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck, then flashed her an easy smile. “I’ll look forward to it, then. I’m glad we reconnected.”

She smiled back as she twisted the knob. “Me, too.”

She didn’t have many friends, it was good to get one of the best ones back.

---

It was edging toward evening when Xaeryn made it back to her office. Which made it a bit of a surprise --fortuitous as it was-- to find Mr. Syndran waiting for her.

“Did we have a meeting I forgot about?” she asked apologetically as she unlocked the door. (They hadn’t, she was positive, but it was a diplomatic way of probing for why he was here.)

“We did not,” Mr. Syndran replied, arching a brow in a knowing look. “I had some other business in the area and decided to stop by in person to see how you are coming along, Miss Shrike.”

Xaeryn laughed and gestured toward the same chair he’d sat in on his first visit. “Then you have very good timing, instincts, or both, Mr. Syndran. I had some things I wanted to ask you; background information.”

His brow creased ever so slightly. “Should you not be far beyond mere background information? Have you not made progress?”

She sighed and sat in her chair behind the desk, pulling her notepad from her handbag and turning to a blank page. “Not of the ‘I’ve narrowed it down to two blocks, I just don’t know which house’ variety, no.” She tapped her pen against the desk. “But I have leads on suspects.”

Syndran gave a grunt that may have been displeasure. “And your questions for me?”

“Like I said; clarifying background information. When the Couriers were contracted to handle transport, how much were you told about the pieces?”

“Only the relevant details.” He brushed invisible lint off his sleeve. “Each one’s value, recorded owner, any special care instructions.”

Xaeryn nodded, pen poised over her pad. “I don’t suppose you recall the owner listed for the pendent?”

He paused to think a moment. “I’d have to have my secretary check to be completely certain, but I believe it was a Ms. Aescar. The name didn’t ring any bells for me.”

“And would I need to speak with the Hall of History and Culture if I wanted to find out how to contact her, or do you know?”

Syndran shook his head. “Whitestone Couriers were merely transporting the relics, Miss Shrike. Any communication with the owners was the concern of the museum curators. Why would you need to talk to her?”

“I might not,” Xaeryn said, scribbling the information down. “I just like to have all my chickens in the coop ahead of time, so there’s no scrambling if something winds up time-sensitive down the road.”

“Smart.” Syndran gave a nod of approval. “So long as you don’t spend so much time preparing for unlikely eventualities that you lose more promising leads.”

She back back a tart ‘I know how to do my job’ and nodded. “Of course.”

He paused a moment, lips pursed in thought. “I did have a wonder, Miss Shrike.”

Xaeryn cocked her head. “Oh?”

“Given the... likelihood this theft occurred somewhere between city customs and the museum and the utter lack of details my drivers have been able to provide about that stretch of the journey” --his expression soured-- “would it be possible for you to... revisit the scene with your abilities?” His brows arched meaningfully.  “You are Argentis, are you not? The benefit of hindsight might allow you to pick up on something relevant that didn’t register in the moment for my people.”

She tapped her pen against her notepad. “I can give it a go, Mr. Syndran, but I’m more a Scryer than a Sage; my strongest talent is finding things in the present, not viewing the past. Though this is the recent past,” she mused. “Perhaps recent enough that with a focus from the caravan I’d have decent luck.”

“I’ll see what I can find for you.” Mr. Syndran pushed to his feet. “Anything in particular that will work best?”

“For viewing the past like this... something from the event is necessary, and the closer to central it is, the clearer a picture I’ll be able to get.” She leaned back in her chair. “Frankly, if you don’t mind my doing so, coming to the Couriers’ garage and using one of the trucks as my touchstone would work best.”

“Oh, that’s very doable,” he said with a nod. “As it’s getting late, what say we do it tomorrow?”

“Nine AM?” Xaeryn suggested.

“Acceptable.” He headed for the door. “I shall see you then, Miss Shrike.”

“See you then, Mr. Syndran.” Xaeryn waited until the door closed behind him to let out a slow breath. Scrying was easy enough, even if she didn’t always succeed, but peering into the past was usually a draining exercise for her. Mr. Syndran was correct, though; it was very likely the best way to glean new leads. Even if it meant she’d need a nap after.

She pushed to her feet and locked the door. One more glance over her notes before she called it a night. So it was fresh in her mind and she could mull it over.

She tried not to get too distracted by the difference between her small, crowded shorthand and Red’s larger, loose scrawl--he had a dreamer’s handwriting, which she’d teased him about when they were younger(he’d rolled his eyes but hadn’t denied it). The memory had her smiling all through dinner.

---

The weather was nice enough the next day Xaeryn opted to walk to the Whitestone Couriers’ garage, though she did take an umbrella in case the rain that hadn’t threatened the last few days decided to make an appearance. Mr. Syndran was waiting for her, looking all the more proper in these rough-shod surroundings. 

“Right on time, Miss Shrike,” he said with a tight smile. “This way.” He led her at a brisk pace to a gleaming black truck, the canvas cover a near-immaculate tan. “This is the one that was carrying the crate with the pendent, among other things.”

“Right.” Xaeryn circled to the passenger side, letting her fingers trail over the cool metal until they rested on the door. “I can’t make any promises, but let’s see if we can find anything useful.”

She pressed her hand flat against the side of the truck and murmured the correct ritual, felt her magic rise to do as she bade.

The scene around her--Mr. Syndran, the garage, everything but the truck--faded into shadow. Her view shifted, as if she were riding shotgun in the truck or hanging out the window as it crept through Haven’s streets. Tings were flickery and dim, the colors bled out and faded as she looked around. I don’t know how long I can hold this. Xaeryn peered intently at  what she could see of the surroundings, the other vehicles, the people, buildings, noting everything she could, no matter how mundane. A woman with a red hat, brim hiding most of her face. A young boy and his dog watching the caravan with interest. A man with vivid green eye and a small smile lounging against a wall, following the trucks’ progress from under his slouched cap. The cat that almost darted in front of the preceding truck before it spooked. The flapper with an armful of bracelets, glancing surreptitiously across the street-

The scene flickered sharply, her grasp on the ritual fading, the images slipping away--

And Xaeryn was back in the garage, leaning against the truck as her knees went to jelly. The few prior occasions she’d played the sage had left her feeling like she stood up too fast when they ended, and this was no exception.

“Are you alright, Miss Shrike?” Mr. Syndran gestured to a nearby worker who’d stopped to gawp and the man scuttled off.

“Just fine,” she said with a nod, turning to sit on the truck’s running board as she tugged out her notepad and rapidly scrawled out everything she’d seen. “Sage work can be taxing if it’s not your main talent, that’s all.”

He watched in silence as she scribbled down the vision’s contents, only speaking again when she finished. “Did you see anything of note?”

“Nothing too blatant, or it would have stood out even to the drivers,” Xaeryn said, leaning her head back against the truck. “But there were some passers-by that caught my attention...”

Mr. Syndran listened to her descriptions with utmost focus, but interrupted when she reached the green-eyes lounger. “Do you remember any other details about him?” he demanded, his hands twitching to a fractionally tighter grip on the head of his walking stick.

“Tall,” Xaeryn said slowly. The worker Syndran had sent away returned with a tumbler of water, which she accepted with a nod of thanks as she dug through the memory. “I think brown hair, but he was wearing a hat. Bright red vest, blue and green scarf ‘round his neck-”

“Thieves guild,” Syndran muttered. Despite the distaste on the words, a panther-like grin curved his lips. “I should have known.” The distaste shifted to satisfaction. “That would be your next lead, Miss Shrike.”

Xaeryn arched a brow. “Do tell.”

“Thieves guild has been a thorn in our side for years,” Syndran explained, “They aren’t even a true guild; more a loose association of ruffians and cutpurses who only call themselves such in another jape at legitimate businesses.” He sniffed. “They make their base in the warrened streets of Ashtown, but I believe I have worked out where their true headquarters are concealed. I can give you some direction, if you’re recovered enough to follow me to my office?”

She nodded, pushed to her feet. “Lead the way.”

It was good to have something tangible to pursue. Hopefully the weather would hold so she could follow it up now. Ashtown was no fun in the rain.

#queens fic #xaeryn shrike #red antiqua #ryn/red #shepherds summer 2021 #shoh #20s au #tlbt

[bluesylveon2]

My My I Could Never Let You Go

Summary: Sasha Zoe just wants her dad to walk her down the aisle. There is only one problem: she doesn't know who her dad is! Sasha invites 3 men in hopes of finding out which one is her father. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairings: Levi x Hange, Sasha x Niccolo, and other background relationships

Disclaimer: This is a Levihan Mamma Mia au. This fanfic is inspired by Mamma Mia which is directed by Phyllida Loyd, written by Catherine Johnson, and uses music from the pop group ABBA. Attack on Titan is a manga/anime series written by Hajime Isayama and published by Kondasha

A/N: Is it too late to say that Sasha’s wedding takes place in the first week of August? (edit: I realized my mistake and I fixed it) Tbh this chapter is short and just filler BUT it does set up what will happen in the next few chapters. You could say it helps with the subplot. I did make a few edits to the fic, especially last chapter because I’m nit-picky like that. 

Need to catch up? Catch up here!

Ch 8: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

2 months before the wedding

It was a beautiful, sunny day in Kalokairi, and Hanami could not agree more as she sips her coffee in front of the Swell Cafe Bar.

The smell from her coffee was wafting her nose, the warm sunlight on her sun-kissed skin, the beautiful view, and the slight breeze that moved her sundress a bit were perfect for her. 

She tapped her foot to the music playing in the background. The owners were playing an old 80's jazz song. Hanami wasn't familiar with it, but she liked listening to the beat. She also noticed the waiter shyly glancing at her every now and then as he worked. 

Aw, she thought. It seems like he's too shy to walk up to her. He kept subtly glancing at her since she sat down. 

Hanami looks in the man's direction and gives him a bright smile and a small wave, causing the guy to blush and look away with embarrassment for getting caught. 

Hanami chuckles to herself. She considered winking at him, but she didn't want the poor guy to blush much. 

She rests her head on her palm, and her gaze returns back to the sea. She reflects on what has happened in the past few months.

2 months ago, during Easter break, Jean approached her with a plan to win over Mikasa. At the time, Hanami was unsure if he would be able to pull it off. Everyone knows how much Mikasa likes (is that even the right word?) Eren. Yet, everyone knows about Jean’s huge crush on Mikasa. 

She only agreed after Jean offered to pay for everything during their "meet-ups" (she insisted that they take turns instead and Jean agreed), assist her with her Maid of Honor duties for the wedding when she had to go back to college (Hanami did her best to exclude him from anything related to Sasha’s dads), and do any other favors for a year. Hanami knew Jean was serious after the conditions. 

You see, Hanami used to not like Jean back in high school. He was cocky, arrogant, and annoying (at least to her and (not)surprisingly, Eren). Hanami made sure to express her dislike for him. However, Jean changed after an incident when Marco broke his right leg and Jean was too late to stop it. He became more mature and considerate of his friends. As a result, both he and Hanami decided they could be friends, and everything went from there. 

And so, Hanami agreed with one condition: Jean must teach her how to dance. 

The reason being is Hanami’s Austrian friends invited her to one of the many balls held during ball season in Austria. Everyone in Hanami’s friend group knows she cannot dance, especially in heels. 

Luckily for her, Jean was the only available guy with a decent enough dance experience to teach her. 

(All the guys agreed that Jean was the best dancer of all of them. Eren is a close second.)

The two would sometimes bicker, but they had each other's backs. They define their friendship as comfortable, per se; they were comfortable enough to actually kiss each other to get out of a sticky situation.

Hanami could remember an incident a few days ago when Sasha decided that the two, plus her and Niccolo, to take a trip to Skiathos to take a break from all the wedding plans. They had settled for a party at a local beach bar at night. Skiathos is known as a party island after all. Niccolo and Sasha had separated from the group to swim in the sea, so Jean offered to buy Hanami a drink since they were alone. 

About 10 minutes had passed since and Jean did not return, so Hanami went out to find him. She did not expect to find him at a table near the bar surrounded by girls without holding any drinks. Despite how cocky Jean looks, he cares about personal space and making sure his friends are ok. He would hate it if someone decided to harass Hanami while he was gone. 

The girls were getting a bit too close to him, so Hanami decided to step in. She strutted to his side while ignoring the other girls and proclaimed how much she missed him. She then grabs his hand and subtly squeezes it, to which he squeezes it back, giving her permission to do what she was about to do. 

Jean had turned to face Hanami, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her close to his body. Hanami looks up at him and grabs the collar of his shirt with both hands. She pulls him down for a kiss while ignoring the other girls who were still present. She wrapped her arms around her neck, while Jean's hands played with the hem of her cover-up. It was nothing sweet and cute like what normal couples do. Their kiss was more heated and was enough for the other girls to leave them alone. 

They never brought it up again just for their own sakes. Jean and Hanami made an agreement to help each other by acting as if they were dating as practice for Mikasa. Hence why they kissed during the party. The two even agreed to squeeze each other’s hands as a sign if they were comfortable to proceed. Jean had no experience with dating, and Hanami had one boyfriend back in high school. She had more experience with dating than him. 

(Hanami only mentioned that Jean had improved on his kissing skills and left it at that).

Hanami continues looking at the view as she waits for Jean. Apparently, he requested that they meet up one more time, and this is very important. Hanami questioned why this meeting was important. Did they not cover everything in the plan? Is there a plot hole they might have missed? She does not turn her head when she hears the man of the hour heading in her direction.

“You’re late. If you came any later, then I would go on a date with the waiter instead,” she teases and turns around to fully face him. He wore a white long-sleeve button-up shirt that he rolled up the sleeves. He also had on slacks and a pair of dress shoes. She found it strange that he decided to dress nicely when it was only 10 am. Usually, he dresses in casual clothes. She eyes the camera in his hands.

Jean sits in the chair across from her and places the camera on the table. “This is not a date, Hanami.” He dismissed with no hint of a laugh anywhere. “I’ve-” he hesitates for a second. “-been thinking about something lately.” 

“Oh,” Hanami says and leans forward a bit. She noticed his hesitation and folded her hands on top of the table. She gestures to the camera on the table, “What’s with the camera?” 

"I’m just practicing for school. I need to take a picture of something I admire and paint it for the school's art exhibit."

Hanami chuckles. "Too bad Mikasa is not here. She is the perfect subject for your painting."

Jean shifts around in his seat uncomfortably. Hanami notices but does not ask about it out loud. Why did he look uncomfortable? She thought he would at least agree with her. 

"About that..the plan with Mikasa..." He trails off, sounding almost uncertain and confused. 

"What’s up?." Hanami asks and raises an eyebrow. She was taken aback. Did Jean notice a hole in their plan? She sits up and stares at him intensely. She's getting the answer one way or another.

“Did we miss something with the plan?”

Hanami knew that Mikasa would not arrive at Kalokairi until days before or maybe the day before the wedding. Jean’s plan was a long shot. Who knows if Mikasa would fall for him in such a short amount of time. Then again, they have been friends for a while now.

“No...It’s nothing,” He says dismissively. Hanami raises an eyebrow. Jean was never this jumpy during their past meet-ups. She is not one to pry, but something is clearly on Jean’s mind and he was the one who insisted on meeting up today. Looks like she might have to play a secret weapon.

“Ohhhkayyy,” she says, holding out the word. She slumps in her seat, feigning disappointment. 

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out of the plan? It would be a shame to put all that time to waste.” Suddenly, she smiles a wicked smile.

 “Don’t you agree, Jeanbo?”

Jean breaks out of his trance and looks at Hanami with shock. He was speechless. Jean could name only two people from his friend group who knew his childhood nickname. Marco, for obvious reasons, and Armin. Armin found out on accident and promised Jean not to tell anyone.  How did she know? 

Checkmate.

“How do you know that?” Jean asks with a hint of fear. 

Hanami places her elbows on the table and rests her hands on her head. “How did I know?” She smiles slyly and raises her eyebrows.

“I met your mother last summer when Sasha and I were visiting Annie in Paris. Sasha wanted to take a road trip around France, and we ended up in Strasbourg as a stop for some sightseeing. You should’ve seen how shocked we were to find your mom in town. She was even shocked when we mentioned that we knew you! It’s a good thing we recognized her from the various letters she sent and the old photos.”

Hanami looks at Jean, who is still speechless. She continues her story.

“You were on your trip in Spain with Marco at the time, so the girls and your mom wanted to keep it a secret. Don't want to ruin the surprise, you know?"

Hanami chuckles to herself.

"Although she did ask if one of us was your girlfriend though. I think she wants grandchildren soon, Jeanbo.”

Hanami laughs at her little joke. Jean was too busy blushing to even laugh at her joke. Doesn’t his mom know that he is too young for that?! He decided to take note to never bring any of his female friends back home. 

“Anyways, she even made us her famous omelets, which were the best I ever had! You have to make me someday, Jean. Don't even try to back out of it. Your mom said you could make it." She looks at him  

She even showed us your baby pictures! You look so adorable!" she gushes. 

Meanwhile, Jean has not said a word. He was too shocked to even talk. 

"It's too bad you changed…" Hanami trails off and glances into Jean's golden-brown eyes. Suddenly, she stands up from her seat and leans forward. One of her hands rested on the table for support, and the other was reaching out to Jean's face. 

Jean only watches as Hanami gently grabs his chin. He was too flustered to make any move to stop her. Her thumb was in the front, and the rest of her fingers were in the back. He doesn't make a move to stop her. He only blushes instead. 

"You just had to grow a beard and your hair out into a mullet. You know, most guys can’t work it, yet here you are. Congrats, I guess."

She tilts his head left and right as if she was examining him. She leans closer to his face that Jean can feel her breaths fan his face. 

"You also got taller and muscular too." She tsks with slight annoyance. "I wonder why no other girls on the island haven't jumped you yet, huh, lover-boy?." She laughs while referring to the fact that Jean harbors a crush on Mikasa for years now. 

Her hand trailed up from his chin to cup his cheek. Jean stays still and continues to watch by looking into Hanami's espresso brown eyes behind her glasses. He hoped she could not see him short-circuiting with how close she was. 

He feels her shift the hand on his cheek to pinch him. Hard.

"Ow! What the hell, Hanami?"

"You just had to lose all that baby fat and get a sharp jawline instead! I’m going to miss the pinchable cheeks I never actually got to see!"

Jean breaks out of his trance and raises his hands up to stop Hanami. 

Two can play this game. What was the best thing to do in this situation? Grab both her cheeks as retaliation.

"You hypocrite! You're the one with chubbier cheeks than me!" 

The two continue pulling at each other’s cheeks and throwing insults at one another. They completely ignored that they were in a public area and people nearby can see them. There was an elderly couple nearby who watched the scene unfold. They couldn’t help but laugh to themselves because it reminded them of when they were young. The waiter from earlier was starting to doubt his impression of Hanami. Who knew she was also childish?

Hanami and Jean’s bickering went on for a few minutes until Hanami gave in.

“Ok. Ok. You win, Jean!” she says after sitting back down in her seat. She rubs her now sore cheek. Yeesh, that guy has a grip.

She looks up at Jean’s face. It looks more relaxed and not as tense as before as a result of earlier. 

Hanami mentally high-fived herself because her plan of getting Jean out of his whatever he was going through was a success. Now it was time to get serious.

“Jean. I can tell something is on your mind.” She reaches forward to place one hand on top of his on the table. She does not make any motion to hold it.  

“It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me specifically. However, just know that I am here for you, and I am happy to listen. I promise not to say anything.” She finishes with a smile.

Jean gulps and takes his hand away to tug on the collar of his shirt. Hanami just watches him patiently. 

“It’s about the plan with Mikasa...I think we need to change tactics.”

Hanami crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. “How so?”

“We...need to get Mikasa jealous.” 

Hanami chuckles a bit. She has never seen Mikasa jealous in all of her years knowing her. Unless you consider that one instance with Annie training him, but Hanami thinks Annie didn’t view Eren that way. Hanami could not help but wonder how they can get Mikasa to feel jealous of a random girl with Jean in a short amount of time. Again, it depends on when Mikasa and Historia arrive.

“How do you plan on achieving that, Jean?” Hanami asks and takes a sip of her coffee. Things are starting to get interesting now.

“How are things with the bachelorette party?” Jeans suddenly ask, changing the topic. Hanami places her cup down on the table and looks at him suspiciously.

“Well, it is definitely going to be at the hotel plaza. Sasha had requested it there. Oh! Hange and her band are going to perform too. Hange wants to relive her glory days, or so she says. Why do you ask?”

Jean presses his lips in a thin line as if he was contemplating what to say next. 

“I need your help with something for the bachelorette party.”

Hanami’s suspicious look never left her face. She takes some time to think about what Jean just said. 

Suddenly, it all clicked in her head. She points an accusatory finger at him and glares at Jean.

“Don’t tell me you plan on inviting male strippers to the bachelorette party?!” Hamani yells and startles Jean as well as some passersby. 

“No! Do you want me to get killed by practically this whole island?!” Jean exclaims, leaning forward in his seat to cover Hanami’s mouth. He keeps it there for a minute before leaning back to take a deep breath. Of course, Hanami would quickly jump to conclusions.

“No.” He says again calmly. “I need your help setting me up with-” He glances around him, looking slightly unsure. “-Rico when she arrives.”

Hanami looks at him dumbfounded. “Come again?”

Jean sighs and looks at Hanami with a serious face. “You heard me. I want you to set me up with Rico.”

“Rico? As in Rico Brzenska, the three-time divorcee? You do realize she is old enough to be your mom, right?”

“Of course I know that! It’s all part of getting Mikasa jealous!”.

Hanami nods her head, trying to understand whatever just came out of Jean’s mouth. To her, it sounded as if he must have gone mad or something. “Uh-huh. Do you plan on going after Pieck next?”

“No! She’s married!” He exclaims while blushing.

Hanami smirks and crosses her arms in front of her chest with triumph. “Exactly.” 

Jean rubs his temples and looks at Hanami with a serious face. “Look, Niccolo came up with an idea about crashing the bachelorette party. Of course, we will make sure to let you have your fun before the guys come in.”

Hanami nods along, showing Jean she is following the story. “So you want me to help you get close enough to “seduce” her (she uses air quotes on the word seduce) that you end up dancing with her at the party and hope that Mikasa notices? Let me guess, you plan on adding more attempts right before the wedding and maybe at the reception?”

“Exactly. You can even try to put in a good word for me when Mikasa comes.”

Hanami nods again in understanding. “Ok, but I won’t do it for every interaction, ok? Only if it is just us two. I don’t want the other girls to raise suspicions if I start complimenting you randomly. Also-” She clamps her hands together. “-I won’t gatekeep Mikasa from Eren. If they want to talk, then I will let them talk. I don’t want to raise any suspicions between the two if that makes sense.”

Jean nods in agreement. “Ok. That sounds like a deal. You will help put in a good word for me to Mikasa, I can try talking to Rico before the party, we will work together to get me close to Rico. You also can't tell Mikasa about my old nickname. It's embarrassing enough that more people know it.” He holds his hand out for Hanami to shake.

Hanami laughs at how serious Jean was. She thought it was kind of funny to see how dedicated he was to this plan. She shakes his hand to seal the agreement. “I promise not to tell Mikasa, Jean. I do have some doubts about the Rico part. I don't mind saying ‘I told you so’ if things go south.”

She places her hand back down on the table and looks at Jean. She smiles, and it even catches him off guard. “You put a lot of effort into this, Jean. You deserve to be happy with Mikasa.” 

“Y-y-yeah. You’re right.” Jean rubs the back of his head nervously, causing Hanami to laugh again. 

Hanami continues smiling as she stands up and grabs Jean’s hand. “C’mon! I paid last time, so it’s your turn to pay for the food and I’m very hungry! I’m craving some walnut pie with ice cream!”

Jean never questioned her request. That woman had a sweet tooth second to Annie’s. He sighs as Hanami lets go of his hand to call over a waiter and start ordering a whole list of food.

This woman is going to be the death of him.

©: This is where I insert all rights reserved stuff. This story belongs to me. Do not modify or republish

I know this is a filler chapter, but I am currently working on ch 9 right now. It is a good way to look at Hanami’s character though.

Updates may take a while because the semester is about to end

I chose Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy because I can see it fitting Jean and the many Nicosasha Tiktoks I used to get with this song. 

The timing in this fic might be weird because I try to make it somewhat accurate with the research I find.

Speaking of research, this fic is basically a list of places I want to go to in the future. Too bad I can’t go now 😭

#levihan #levi x hange #levihan fanfiction #nicosasha #erwin x hange #mike x hange #mikenana #aruani #hitch x marlow #marco x mina #pokkopikku #snk #aot

[juanabaloo]

LGBTQ BTVS t-shirt ideas:

SCOTT HOPE NEVER LIED!

(part 1 / ? for Pride Month) (insp)

#btvs #happy pride #happy pride to buffy summers #fuffy adjacent #text post #the canon show quote is scott hope said you were gay #ep: 7x07 conversations with dead people #exhibit Ch your honor #ex Ch points 1 to 5 your honor #pride tshirt ideas

[scullydubois]

Only the Light: Ch. 21

21/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: mid-s3 (canon-divergent) | T | 4.8k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic 

Hello, here is my ‘I didn’t plan for updates to take two weeks, but it always works out to two weeks’ post, right on time. Almost finished with this journey, thank you for sticking around <3

As Mulder helps care for his ill partner and her child, he enlists the Lone Gunmen to investigate the circumstances surrounding Scully's diagnosis. He and Melissa pay a visit to the three men, then Mulder gets an unwanted surprise back at apartment 42.

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

As Scully’s world has shrunk, the amount of love in it has grown. This is small consolation for the hell she’s enduring, but it is the only antidote. She realizes this now that she’s staring down the abyss: all the knowledge in the world won’t save you, and wealth is nothing but a false comfort. What will live on are the parts of herself she’s left with others. Her goal for her remaining time, however long that may be, is to hold tight to those she loves...not to slip away until her heart stops beating.

This is hard when she already feels like less of herself. She’s doing chemo twice a week at Georgetown, and it’s brutal. She knew it would be...her only other choice is to get that gravestone of hers re-engraved. 

Meanwhile, Mulder pushed all other work aside to get in contact with the Mufon women. It only took him one day to do so, but Scully doesn’t know that, and for now, she doesn’t need to know. He’s keeping what he’s learned so far to himself...Betsy Hagopian is dead and has been since shortly after Scully saw her. Penny Northern is sick and not responding to treatment. A handful of other women, abductees like Scully, have developed rare cancers too.

It’s not something he knows how to talk about, such despondency. His world has always hinged on hope. That’s what his work on the X-Files is to him, one big leap of faith toward his sister. Or was, before Scully came along. It’s not that she diverted him from Samantha...no, she turned a very personal quest into something larger than him. Or her, or any one person they worked with. She pared it down to its core value, its overarching mission: the truth. Because the truth may hurt at first, but given time, it heals. And it is the only path to healing. This is what he’s learned from her. And now, he’s got to do everything he can to pass the revitalized world she’s shown him onto her. 

The arrangement falls into place without any friction: Missy handles the chemo run on Monday mornings, and Mulder leaves work early on Thursdays. Emily spends Mondays with her grandma, and Thursdays too when Missy works the night shift. 

Thursdays become something of a spiritual day for Mulder. The hours of approximately 3-10pm are spent doting on his partner--in her apartment, and then his car, then the hospital and his car again, and finally, back to her apartment. Mama Scully brings Emily back around eight, and if Missy’s not home, Mulder gets the honor of the bedtime ritual. The domesticity of it all tethers him to reality, maybe for the first time in his life. He’d give anything to change the circumstances, but it’s humbling to feel--for once--that he belongs on Earth. 

It is on one of these Thursday evenings that Mulder could swear he feels his whole life trailing behind him, leading him to the present. The end of the year is creeping up in its usual fashion, which means the outside world is a blanket of darkness before the stoves of countless suburban homes have even been started. Having settled her comfortably into bed with a pile of pillows, Mulder carries his partner a glass of water and pulls the wastebasket to her side; this is their routine now. 

“You doing okay?” he asks, lingering as she takes a sip of water. It will soon be time to make himself scarce so she can sleep.

She nods, gurgles a garbled affirmation. Mulder turns to go, and her heart leaps to her throat. “Will you stay?” she spews, embarrassed by her need. 

“Of course.” She’s unaware, apparently, that when he leaves it’s for her, not him. He approaches her bedside, lowers himself carefully beside her knees. “Any particular reason?” he murmurs, examining the sunken spaces beneath her eyes.

“I just...wanted to talk to you,” she says, and Mulder thinks there might be a bit more color in her cheeks than there was yesterday.

“Okay.” He leans in and sweeps a strand of hair off her forehead so lightly that Scully doesn’t even feel it. She’s apprehensive about being touched these days, and he has taken this knowledge to heart. She is grateful, and to show the extent of this feeling, she strokes his hand, allows him to take hers in his. He runs his thumb over each finger as they continue. 

He wants to ask what she’s thinking about, what it is that has so graciously extended his stay in this room. But he knows that she’ll get to it, that she has nothing to keep from him now. 

There’s a sincere serenity on her face that he’s never seen. And after a minute or two, she begins. “I didn’t think it could happen--and it certainly doesn’t make much sense-- but right now, I am happier than I have ever been.”

A string on Mulder’s heart, tightened to its prime, bursts without warning. 

She caresses the back of his head. “It’s so trivial, Mulder. So much of what we call life isn’t living at all. Or at least not the important kind.”

He lifts his gaze, eye contact conveying more than he could with words.

“But I’ve thought about the parts of my life that are living, and all of them, in some way, come back to you.”

Mulder shakes his head, feeling too flattered. “That’s not true…”

“You can believe whatever you need to,” she whispers, “but it is the truth, and I am eternally grateful that you happened to me.”

He tries to cough away some tears, which works about a quarter as well as he hoped it would. “Hold on, little lady.” He pats her hand in response to her smile. “I think you happened to me.”

Scully’s chest flutters in laughter. “Did I?” These subtle things have always been so important to them. 

“You walked into my office, remember.”

“Well, I guess it would depend on who changed the most due to the other’s influence then,” she reasons. 

Mulder just gives her a look. 

She smirks. “Okay, so maybe I happened to you, but you…” she chews her lip, and this could be any other day of any other year if she weren’t bedridden. She picks out her words-- “You completed me.”

Mulder spills forward, finding his footing and spinning into the middle of the room. “Holy fuck Scully, are you trying to kill me?”

“We’ve been searching for the truth. That’s the truth, Mulder. I wanted you to know.”

He sets his jaw. He won’t burst into tears in front of her, not when she has all the reason to cry and yet has been so strong. 

“You should get some sleep,” he tells her, hoping to expedite his exit from the room. 

“I will. And it’s okay to be sad, but not for me. My life is as whole as ever.”

He nods, though he doesn’t agree (what’s new?). He knew Samantha for eight years and has been sad for twenty. He’s known Scully for half that--so he gets at least a decade of mourning. 

“Sweet dreams,” he says, resting his hands on the door frame. “I’ll bring Emily in when she gets here.”

“Okay.” She closes her eyes, smiles. “Love you.”

“Love you too, DKS.” He blows a kiss and slips out, heat flooding to his face. This is the first time she’s said that unprompted, and is that what the threat of imminent death does to you? Pries you open? 

He wonders. Whose love is saving who?

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

The primetime line-up is flickering over the television when Mama Scully arrives with Emily, passing her granddaughter to Mulder like the family heirloom she is. They exchange a few words in short breaths, reserving the air supply for their dear Dana. Mama Scully agrees to come see her daughter this weekend rather than interrupt her much-needed rest now, and Mulder is suddenly single parent-slash-babysitter; the specifics elude him. 

Perfumed with baby powder from her grandmother’s overly enthusiastic hand, Mulder concludes that Em needs neither bathing nor changing. She doesn’t seem very keen on sleep either, seeing as how her little voice keeps calling out Moldy! and her little fists clobber his shoulders. Still, he will keep his promise. He carries her into the room she shares with her mother, stepping lightly lest the floorboards creak. 

As he circles the bed to lay the child beside her sleeping mother, he winces at the mess in the trash can. Good thing he moved it into place though Scully had seemed okay. He hadn’t heard any retching, and it saddens him that he wasn’t there to hold her hair back. He settles Em into place, makes a mental note to rinse the can on his way out. 

Her characteristically light sleep lightened further by her illness, Scully stirs from the shift of Emily’s weight against the mattress. She rolls toward the free side and flutters her eyelids open. Her smile is reflexive. 

“Hello baby girl,” she purrs. She lays a hand against her daughter’s polka-dotted onesie. “Did you have a good day with Grandma?”

Emily answers with some fluttery babbling and gropes for her mother’s nose. 

“I don’t think she’s very tired,” Mulder remarks, hands in his pockets. He smirks. “We should really find out what your mother feeds her.”

Scully pulls her lips into a grin, exhibiting a great deal more effort than she did just moments before. She blinks, rubs her eyes, and seems to go out of the world for a second. Then she sets her gaze on Mulder and speaks dreamily--”Will you tell us a bedtime story?”

“Oh!” Mulder scratches his chin, having expected his dismissal. “Do you think that would help…?”

Scully presses her head into the pillow. “I’m not gonna be able to fall back asleep until she does.”

That is a yes, served with some condescension.  

“Okay, well, let me think.” He perches on the side of the bed. “Regrettably, I did not get my degree in bedtime stories.”

“Just say what you know,” Scully mumbles. “We’re the only ones listening, and the goal is to put us to sleep.”

“I hope that’s not a comment on my conversational skills,” he teases, smoothing the sheets. 

Again, there’s a look of otherworldliness from his partner. She is somewhere else.

“Go on, tell us a story,” she hums, her surprising lack of impatience attributable to an equal lack of wakefulness. 

“Let’s see…” He stretches out, perching on his elbow by Scully’s feet like she did in the first motel they ever stayed in. Emily sits herself up and grasps for him. He laughs, lets her latch onto his fingers.

“There once was a little girl who loved horses and bugging her brother,” he begins. “Now, I’m sure she sounds like just about any little girl out there, but I promise, she was as unique as they come.” 

Scully closes her eyes and tilts her head back to listen.

“She always said she wanted to be a butterfly when she grew up so she could spread her wings and fly. And her parents would scoff and tell her that would never be possible, but she believed. She believed it would happen.”

Emily babbles along, adding her own colorful commentary. 

“I know, I know right?” Mulder muses to the little girl. “The parents were such jerks.”

He tickles Em’s stomach, then remembers that he’s supposed to be helping her go to sleep. He kisses her temple and begins stroking her knee, hoping to achieve a hypnotic rhythm. 

“And so one day, this little girl...well, this little girl got to go on an adventure. She left behind her house and her family, and she got to go up to the sky and see the stars, and it was everything she wished for.”

Scully opens her eyes slowly. Mulder’s focus is centered on Emily, who stares up at him with the awe of a museum-goer seeing the Starry Night. It is as if they are the only two in the room, and this gives Scully great comfort, for she can imagine them having a life after she is gone.

“The girl’s family was sad because they didn’t know where she went. The girl’s brother missed her the most, but it was okay because the girl was happy. She got to fly through the sky like a bird or a plane, and she achieved the dream that her parents thought would never come true.”

Em’s breathing begins to slow into sleep. And thank god, cause he’s running out of story to tell.

“Lay down, little girl.” He guides her onto her back so she can drift off without difficulty, then clears his throat softly. 

“Some say that if you see a light in the night sky, that’s this little girl, floating among the stars, living her dream. And her brother, well, he’s pretty fond of that thought. He just wants her to be happy.”

Silence falls over the room like a throbbing sensation of unknown origin. Emily’s eyelids struggle between open and closed, and Mulder knows she will soon be out. Scully’s baby blues, meanwhile, peer at him with such unflinching intensity that he suspects she has fallen asleep like that. It is haunting, but it becomes much less so when she blinks and he realizes that she’s looking at him, that she heard the whole story.

“Is that what you wanted?” he whispers, half expecting her not to answer.

“It was beautiful, Mulder. Samantha lives on.”

He smiles from his eyes...oh, of course it was obvious, his little tribute to his sister. Scully said to work from what he knew, and this myth is something he’s used to keep himself going since his family realized that there would be no happy reunion with Sam. He’s happy to share his fantasy; such escapes are needed now.

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

Melissa’s heart leaps when she opens the apartment door to an empty living room. The TV drones out its slapstick laugh track, contributing to the ominous atmosphere. She’d expect to see Mulder taking up a restless refuge on the couch, or maybe sneaking a late night snack to Em. Her sister should be fast asleep by now, her little world able to slacken its hold on her. Unless she is no longer afforded such luxury…

Missy rushes toward Dana’s bedroom, her purse still on her shoulder. In the doorway she slows as her eyes adjust to the lack of light. And thank goodness because three silhouettes catch her eye; a medium one buried under the covers, a large one strewn diagonally across the bed, and a small bump barely visible on the far side. A snore of unidentifiable origin is the only disturbance. Missy smiles to herself. All the missing persons are accounted for and well. She can continue with the blissfully bland routine of her night. 

She washes her face and brews some chamomile before settling on the couch with the week’s issues of Mad Magazine and Vogue. Yes, she contains multitudes. She’s up to the Spy vs. Spy comic when Mulder strolls in, yawning. 

“I guess my bedtime story was effective.”

“Mmm.” Missy scoots her mug over so he can prop his feet up. Dana hates feet on furniture, but she’s got a child in the house now, so she’ll have to let go of those judgments. “How is she?”

“Oh shit.” She’s jogged something in his memory. “I meant to grab the trash can on the way out.”

Missy knows what this means. “I’ll get it in a second.”

Mulder nods in silent gratitude, relaxes back into his spot. “She seemed livelier than usual when we got home.”

 It hits him that he said home, not back. And well, it is Scully’s home. What about him? He sleeps on the couch and he doesn’t pay rent...that’s how he lived at Oxford, though he gets the feeling that it’s not as evergreen at thirty-three years old. 

These days, he only goes to his place on Sunday nights to get (what he considers) a week’s worth of clothing--two work outfits (hey, he never really sees anyone but Scully anyway) and one casual outfit that doubles as pajamas. He bought a bunch of fish feeding tablets so all he has to do is drop a few in on Sunday and the fish are set for the week. As far as he can tell, at least. None of them have floated to the top of the tank yet.

“And Em is all good?” Missy confirms.

Mulder nods. “Your mom takes good care of her.”

“I think I know the answer to this, but do you want some tea?” Missy asks, flashing her mug.

“No, no, save it for yourself.”

“Alright.” She flips a page in her magazine. “Just let me know when you’re ready to kick me out. Since I’m kind of in your bed and all.”

“I should be telling you that,” Mulder counters. “You don’t mind me staying here, do you?”

“Not at all.” Missy lays the magazine on the table. “It’s important that you’re around.”

“Really?...For what?”

“For who,” Missy corrects. “Emily needs you to give her balance, and Dana...she just needs you. You’re the safety net under her tightrope.”

“Oh.” This metaphor grounds Mulder better than gravity ever has.

Missy seems to sense this and takes the opportunity to profit off his vulnerability. “So what’s gone on between you?” she asks, an eyebrow arched.

Mulder squints at her. “Huh?”

“I keep waiting for Dana to kick you out or get irritated about you being around all the time,” Missy says with honest simplicity. “But instead, she lets you take her to chemo and fall asleep in her bed…”

“Well, I think the former is more ideal than the alternative, which is that I watch her child,” Mulder replies. “And I fell asleep on the bed, not in it.”

“Okay.” Missy sips her tea, keeps her eyes on him. 

It’s pointless for Mulder to try to keep secrets anymore. He wrings out his hands. “If you must know, when you dropped her off at my apartment after her appointment, we... came to a mutual understanding.”

“Ah.” Missy is not surprised by any of it. Of course it happened. Of course her sister hasn’t mentioned it. 

“Why are you just asking about this now?”

“Cause I expected my suspicions to be proven wrong, and that hasn’t happened.”

Mulder nods, taps absentmindedly on his knee. “Actually, I have something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” She’s intrigued. The enigmatic Fox Mulder, divulging on his own accord. 

“Don’t get excited, it’s not good.” 

Damn. Missy reels herself in. “About Dana?”

“About what happened to her or...what is happening to her. It’s about the Mufon women.”

Missy curls her legs beneath herself. “You reached them?” 

He nods. “Well, Penny Northern’s hospice nurse picked up when I called. She’s got stage four tumors throughout her body that migrated from her nasopharynx.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah. Apparently most of the other abductees have cancer too. And Betsy Hagopian--the woman who Scully saw in the hospital last spring--is dead.”

Missy’s gaze drops to the floor. “So the invasive procedures that the abductors did are killing these women.”

“One doctor’s treating them all--he’s supposed to be a specialist--but it doesn’t look like he’s having much success.” Mulder pauses, his mouth partially open.

“What?” Missy presses.

“The Lone Gunmen and I have been looking into him, and we think that he might have been involved in the abductions.”

Missy barrels forward. “You think he did this to them on purpose and now he’s letting them die?”

Mulder nods solemnly. 

“Well, we have to stop him. We can’t let any more patients go to him, especially Dana…”

“I know. I’m going down to see the Lone Gunmen tomorrow after work if you want to join me.”

Missy contemplates. “I have the lunch shift tomorrow, so I could. What would we tell Dana?”

“I’ll say that Skinner is keeping me late to go over some paperwork. You could say whatever, she’s not going to question you.”

“I hate to leave her alone for so long, but...yeah, we have to do this.” She leans back, takes another look at Mulder. “You might just save a lot of women, you know.”

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

Missy feels unseen eyes bore into her as she and Mulder approach the basement entrance of a helter-skelter building. She doesn’t recognize the part of town they’re in, and she doesn’t ask. 

Mulder hits the button on a call box beside the door. Before he can speak, a voice leaps out at them.

“Howdy Mulderoony.” Mulder recognizes it as Frohike’s voice. “Glad to see you made it safely.”

A variety of locks and chains are undone, the door pulled open. 

“Join our ménage a trois,” Frohike says, ushering them in. 

“We can’t stay long,” Mulder tells them, squinting as he adjusts to the darkness of their realm. “You guys forget to pay the electric bill or something?”

“We’re conserving electricity,” Byers says, a shadow in the corner of the room. “It’s good for the environment.”

“I didn’t realize the environment was on your list of concerns.”

“It should be on everyone’s list of concerns,” Byers throws back matter-of-factly. 

Mulder slides his hands into his pockets. “Touché.” 

Ringo comes forward from the darkness, his hair as tressed and greasy as ever. “Well lookie here. Dana Scully in the flesh.”

Frohike inserts himself between them. “You can’t be serious, pool boy. That’s not her, I’d know her anywhere. It is, however, an equally lovely woman.” He takes Missy’s hand and kisses it. “My lady.”

Missy participates with amusement until Mulder brushes Frohike aside.

“Okay boys, lay off. This is Scully’s sister Melissa. And I believe she’s taken.”

Frohike bows. “A lucky man.”

“Woman,” Missy corrects.

“Oh. Excusez-moi."

Tucked in the darkness, Byers scoffs at the childish antics. “Come on, let’s cut to the chase. Lives are at stake.”

“I’m glad to see someone has a brain around here,” Mulder quips. 

Ringo pats Mulder’s shoulder. “Not all of us got a full-ride to Oxford, but hey, I’d say we’ve done pretty well for ourselves.”

“Calm down, Ringo. You’d still be the smartest member of the Ramones.” 

Like an unleashed dog, Ringo lunges forward, and Byers and Frohike pull him back. They are quite used to this. 

“You can insult me, but never speak ill of the Ramones!” Ringo growls. 

Mulder puts his hands up, smirks at the permission he’s been given. “Happily.”

Missy clears her throat, her amusement wearing thin. She’s like her sister in this way.

Mulder gets the memo. “Right. Can the trash talk, we’re here to catch a criminal.”

“If he is, in fact, a criminal,” Byers remarks.

Missy frowns. “Haven’t you proved that?”

“We’re connecting the dots, but we haven’t completed the picture yet,” Byers replies. 

Mulder circles around to Byers’ monitor. “What have you got?”

“This doctor, Scanlon, isn’t just an oncologist,” Ringo begins, as if Mulder asked him. “His name is associated with the Lombard Research Facility.”

Mulder and Missy both give him a look. More, more!

“A high security medical research center in Allentown,” he clarifies. 

“We’ve hacked into some of the security cameras,” Frohike tells them. “We’d have to get in to see for ourselves, but the activity is rather suspicious. The same men, in and out, at odd times. Whatever they’re storing in there, it’s significant.”

“Then let’s get in,” Mulder emphasizes. “You be the eyes and ears, I’ll be the legs.”

Ringo nods. “We’re working on it.”

“We need to observe their weekend patterns before we make any moves,” Byers insists. “We don’t set up our missions to fail.”

“Fine, but as soon as you’ve reached your confidence threshold--”

“We’ll call you,” Ringo promises.

“What are you expecting to find?” Missy asks, frenzied. “Will it help Dana?”

Frohike drums his fingers on the desk. “That’s the plan.”

Byers nods. “We can’t be sure exactly what we’ll find, but the connection is clear: Scanlon was involved with the abductions, and he’s exploiting these women for his own benefit.”

Melissa shivers involuntarily. “It’s amazing that you’ve figured this out.”

Ringo twirls a pencil through his hair. “We have a lot of free time on our hands.”

Mulder takes a shot at the mini-basketball hoop they have, misses. “And you’d better use it all to implicate Dr. Scanlon’s ass.”

Frohike does a two-finger salute. “Aye aye captain.”

Mulder thumbs toward the door. “Now we’ve gotta get out of here before the smell sticks to us. Scully will know exactly where we’ve been,” he smirks.

“Can’t argue with that.” Frohike shows them to the door. “Give the lady my regards.”

“Will do.” He turns back, exchanges a serious glance with each man. “Sort this out, boys.”

Just as quickly as they came, he and Melissa step out of the chambers and ascend back into the sun’s dominion. Entrusting those three with the well-being of a woman they love so much is far from ideal, and yet, they’re throwing all their faith into it.

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

Mulder slides his key into the door of apartment 42 shortly after seven on Sunday evening. He hasn’t been in for a week, and yet a vivid scent of...smoke sticks about the place. And a wrinkled mess of a man to go with it.

The old man lifts his chin. “I’ve been expecting you.”

Mulder is no longer naïve enough to be taken aback by Cancer Man’s ambush. He shrugs and slides his coat off. “Well, you are in my apartment.”

“I’ve heard that your partner is very sick,” CSM says, his steps so clunky that Mulder wonders whether the downstairs tenants will complain. 

“What grapevine did you get that from?...Or are you the one growing the grapes?”

“It saddened me to hear. Agent Scully is a valuable member of the Bureau.”

Mulder nods. “You here to pass on your condolences? Cause I’m pretty sure you could just send a card.”

“I’m here to propose a solution...The doctors say your partner’s sickness is incurable. This is not true.”

“Smarter than the doctors, are you?”

“In this case I am.”

A bitter laugh rises from Mulder. “So I’m supposed to believe that you were involved in sickening Scully, yet you want to save her?”

“We all have our regrets.”

“And I have no reason to trust you.”

“Upon learning about her child, I feel a deep need to intervene.”

“Mmm.” Mulder begins to pace. “And by learning about her child, do you mean when Scully’s ova were removed and fertilized without her knowledge? Because I have a hard time believing that you didn’t know a thing about Emily until Scully got custody.”

“Certainly I did not foresee Emily ending up in her mother’s custody.”

“What was the purpose then, of Emily? To terrorize a woman by taking away her bodily autonomy?”

CSM shrugs. “That’s not my area.”

Mulder scoffs. “Okay you old freak. Tell me how to save Scully’s life or get the hell out of here.”

The wrinkled man folds his hands. “She had a silicone implant removed from her neck. Put it back in.”

Mulder freezes. “Are you serious? That’s your miracle cure?”

CSM nods. “It is the only way to save her life. Removing the implant is what caused the cancer in the first place.”

Mulder steps forward, getting in the old man’s face like a middle-school bully. He’s ready to throw a punch--honestly, ready to kill the man--if need be. He could do it. Easily. He could.

“What does the implant do, Cancer Man?”

“Believe it or not, it is meant as a sort of inoculation. It offsets the negative effects of any tests performed during the...time away.”

“Uh-huh, and what do you get from it?”

“Who says I get anything from it?”

“How else would you know that she had it removed?”

“I am everywhere, Agent Mulder.”

Mulder loses his thinly-veiled calm, wraps his hand around the man’s saggy neck. “You fucking pervert, I’ll kill you! I’ve killed a man before just like this. Tell me the truth.”

“This is the truth,” CSM wheezes, not intimidated by his rapidly deteriorating air flow. His cold, hard eyes stare into Mulder’s. “You wouldn’t kill a man over nothing, would you?”

Mulder squeezes harder, his fingers gripping the man’s pulse. He watches the light drain from his victim’s eyes. All the old bastard does is smirk at him. 

Angered by this more than anything, Mulder releases the man so suddenly that his bony body is thrown into the wall. He keeps his footing, stumbles forward.

“Get out,” Mulder growls. When he doesn’t respond, Mulder pokes his finger at the door. “Get out now!”

CSM dusts himself off and walks out, the pompous smirk never leaving his face. Mulder slams the door shut behind him. 

There are certain truths he cannot escape. If Scully has made him believe in Heaven, CSM has made him believe in Hell.

#sincerely hope i did the lone gunmen justice lol #also i feel like this chapter is...a normal episode amount of angsty instead of the slow paper cut of the last chapter #the x-files #only the light fic #missy and scully fic #txf #txf fic #fox mulder #dana scully #melissa scully #mine #eww this looks weird w/the tumblr update!! #read it on ao3 lol

[neoninky]

TWST Fic "Her Ivory Crown": Chapter 7

Ch. 7: A Golden Afternoon

The sound of birds singing outside of her window seemed like a happy sign, one she would gladly not question. Reine continued to get dressed into her Rosabyrine uniform with a soft smile and a musical hum. She was feeling much better today and anyone within a mile could see it. Just one last session at the tea garden booth before the real tea party with the Heartslabyul boys this afternoon. The princess started to comb her hair, getting ready to put it in a long braid once again, and looked back to the red and black ribbons on her nightstand, next to the vase of roses. She smiled and mused quietly to herself, "It is the last day of the exhibition. A change would be nice..." 

Alyssa and the other girls had gone ahead without her, telling her to take her time, so when Reine walked down the stairs, only Manari, Jinnah, and the dance team were there. The Almascaber dorm prefect quickly noticed the ribbons and red rose that tied her hair back into a high, wavy ponytail today as opposed to her usual, intricate white-rose clad braid. Not to mention the happy mood completely surrounding her in general. 

"Well, well, don't you look happy, Your Highness," Manari giggled as she comfortably lounged in the parlor chair, wearing her gym clothes, "Big plans today?"

Reine just gave her friend a playful smirk, "Why yes, I've been invited to have tea and tarts with the King of Heartslabyul and his noble court. But first I must away! The Rosabyrine's garden awaits its Queen." 

"Oooo fancy, well have fun rubbing elbows and swapping sugar cubes with His Majesty," Manari and Jinnah snickered to themselves, "us common folk will be busy dancing our butts off for the last rehearsals before the grand battle tomorrow."

"We hope our performance pleases you and brings honor to our glorious school, Your Majesticness!" Jinnah made a dramatic bow to Reine, garnering a laugh from the rest of the dance team, "and good luck to you in your game of flamingos and hedgehogs!" Manari hopped up and joined her vice leader in an exaggerated curtsy, making Reine just laugh and play along before walking out the door.

-

It was too good of a day to ruin for anyone, really. Reine found herself being escorted to the tea garden by her good feline friend and in much higher spirits than the day before. Manari and her girls jogged their way to the NRC gymnasium, chanting with gusto before meeting up with Charlaine who was just as excited to get started. Elise was in her element, smiling and greeting students from all three schools to her exhibit and sharing her favorite legends that had been passed down from sailors in her father's service for generations. Everyone that was either in the girls' company or happened to be passing by them was immediately swept up in their glowing energy. 

Honestly, the only person who seemed troubled...was Riddle.

Across campus in the Heartslabyul gardens, the crimson king was pacing about, checking every minute detail for about the hundredth time that morning. The tea party wasn't for a couple of hours but still, he was beyond restless. It was painfully, if not hilariously, obvious to the two seniors at the garden's edge. 

"I know it's Riddle being...well...Riddle, but this seems a bit excessive," Cater whispered to Trey while trying not to laugh. 

"He wants to make a good impression on the girls, I can't blame him for being a little more...motivated," Trey smiled knowingly which did not sneak by Cater's sharp eye. 

"Oh ho...? You know something else, don't you, Vice Dorm Leader? Come on. What is it? Tell me, tell meeee~" Cater was beginning to sound like an excited jr high girl. 

The clover just chuckled and casually sidestepped his classmate's suspicion, "No idea what you mean. I'm just saying that Riddle may be on edge because this is a very special occasion for him and us as a dorm."

Cater wasn't sold. He side-eyed Trey as he silently recounted the last 24 hours in his head: Riddle picked flowers that no one was supposed to pick before suddenly delivering said flowers that same night...suddenly Trey's making extra tarts for the party that is today....girls are magically invited to said party last minute...also Riddle didn't eat as much at breakfast and now he's acting like this-waaaaaaait...

"Oooh my Magicame GOD! What?!" Cater laughed loudly once all the pieces came together, "Riddle has a CRUSH?!" 

Trey quickly tried to shut the diamond senior up but it was too late. Riddle completely halted his flurried behavior and snapped his head around to where Trey and Cater were, his face bright red, though it was hard to tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. Thankfully it was just the three of them at that moment but Riddle's outburst was so intense that surely the rest of the school also heard him. 

"WH-WH-WHAT NONSENSE ARE YOU SPEWING OVER THERE, CATER?!"

It took a solid ten minutes for Trey to get Riddle to calm down. Trey sighed at Cater's unapologetically eager grin as he whispered-yelled to a very flustered Riddle, "Sooooooo...? Come on, dorm leader, you can tell us. Who is she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about! I merely invited the Rosabyrine dorm because they expressed great interest in seeing Heartslabyul!!" Riddle aggressively whispered back in response.

"Uh-huh...if that's the case then...why are we hiding behind this rose bush, whispering about this right now?" 

The two seniors had been quickly shuffled out of the tea party area by an upset Riddle who clearly did not want to risk anyone else walking into their conversation at that time. And yet, here he was still trying to downplay what Cater, and Trey too honestly, had already sniffed out. Cater was anything but a quitter.

"Is it that first year, Alyssa? She's a cutiiiieeee~ Though I think Deuce might like her too, just sayin'. So that might be awkward but hey all's fair in love and war, right?" Cater winked mischievously in Riddle's direction only to be met with a silent glare, "No? Ok well, the second years are pretty cute too. Ooh or maybe our dorm leader's into older women? If so I did get some numbers of the seniors-"

"Shutup,Cater!It'sMissReine!" Riddle mumbled it so quickly that Cater almost didn't catch it. Riddle wished that was so but judging from the ecstatic look on the senior's face, he wasn't that lucky.

"The Princess???? Ooh ho ho, Riddle, you rogue-I mean ahem-" Cater quickly cleared his throat at the familiar look of rage in Riddle's eyes, "Good for you! She's quite the lady! And what a ballsy choice. I mean it's pretty much common knowledge now, even on our campus, that Cavalier guy is chasing after her-ACK!" Trey glared at Cater as he elbowed him in the side. 

Riddle raised a brow at Cater's less than inspiring commentary but knew that he wasn't wrong. Great Queen of Hearts, just when he thought he might finally feel normal after last night, Riddle felt that sick pinprick in his gut all over again at the reminder. Cater felt a wave of guilt seeing the defeated look on Riddle's face and quickly tried to recover the situation.

"Hey, hey, what's with that look? The princess is a very sweet girl, hell, I'm sure over half the guys in Heartslabyul have a crush on her too. Doesn't mean she's spoken for already though right? It's not like you to give up so easily!" 

"What that said...your secret is safe with us. Right, Cater?" Trey gave his classmate a very sharp look that decided the answer for him. 

Riddle huffed and did his best to return to his usual commanding self, "Not a word of this to anyone. ANYONE. Miss Reine's not some trinket to fight over like a pack of wild animals. She is a guest and a princess. Our princess. We will treat her and respect her as such."

The two seniors shared a serious look before responding, "Yes, Dorm Leader."

The three boys returned to the garden's center, Riddle swallowing his feelings the best he could with each step.

-

"Excellent jobs, girls. Thank you for all of your hard work. You have made me very proud to be your leader and fellow Rosabyrine student." 

The girls all cheered at their joint success. Reine couldn't be more pleased with the turnout of their final tea party even though they did close their booth much earlier than the others. Alyssa quickly went over the ticket sales numbers along with any orders submitted for the Rosabyrine's special tea blends and tea sets with Reine as the other girls cleaned up the area. All of them were just as eager as their queen to get everything settled before they left for the Heartslabyul tea party. Reine signed off on all the purchases and made her own notes for later before checking her pocket watch. She gave a satisfied hum at their time before helping the other girls pack up the clean unused tea sets that would be distributed to their happy patrons later. Noticing a specific name on that list, Reine grinned and set aside one tea set and jar of tea leaves to deliver personally. She finished wrapping them in checkered cloth with a signature white rose just as the rest of her dorm finished their work and cradled the precious cargo in her arms as she followed the others towards the main street. Being the last one out of the garden, Reine turned back and placed an enchantment on the area to protect it from anyone outside their dorm entering it and potentially stealing or breaking any of the merchandise. It was a simple enough spell, for her anyway, but Reine felt a slight cough prickle in her throat and chest after the fact. She ignored the bitter wet taste of ink in her mouth and followed the rest of her dorm towards the Hall of Mirrors. Trey and Cater both stood waiting for the excited girls and helped them enter through the Heartslabyul mirror, Reine entering last...and she was not disappointed in the least.  Each of the girls gasped in excitement at the overall aesthetic of the boys' dorm and their uniforms. Reine especially forgot herself and just took everything in with wide eyes. It reminded her so much of her visits to her aunt and cousins' court when she was little; so much that she felt her heart swell. Trey smiled at her pure fascination, "Welcome to the Heartslabyul dorm, Miss Reine. What do you think?"

"It's...so....wonderful," she said barely above a whisper as if she were afraid her words might break. 

- 

Elise gently placed the last piece that had been auctioned off back inside its box before handing off the boxes to her brother students that had volunteered to help her and her girls. Looking over the numbers, she was less than satisfied. Sure the girls of Sacred Crown were doing fairly well all things considered but even with their final push to make more profits, they were still far behind the two boys' schools. Royal Sword was still in first place...as usual. Elise couldn't remember the last time they ever beat their brother school at anything. She could really understand how the Night Raven boys felt now in a sense. Granted she was also surprised her school did as well as they did in the shadows of two powerhouse schools that were hellbent on out-doing the other. At the very least, Elise was pleased that the silent auction portion of her exhibit went as well as it did. Speaking of which...  The princess looked over the pieces and found the exact one that came to mind. Elise looked at the antique music box, fashioned to look like a seashell wrapped in pieces of coral, sitting on a nest of seaweed, and touched it lightly, fondly. The music box had been in her personal collection for a long time. The only reason Elise was parting with it now was because her club needed more funding and she didn't want to leave the others high and dry after she graduated. Elise was a little sad to see it go but...she smiled at the name on the sold tag.

 "I'm sure you will make Mr. Ashengrotto very happy."

She gently packaged the music box before wrapping it herself and carefully placing it in her satchel to deliver to the Monstro Lounge personally. Once she finished deligating where everything was to be placed and stored until the end of the festival, Elise checked her phone and saw that Manari had sent her a short video of their practice session. The day was still young so she decided to see her friends in action herself, leaving the rest of the booth in her girls' capable hands.

-

The Heartslabyul gardens had never been more lively than they were now. Cater was taking selfies and pictures for his Magicame, left and right. The fashion of the Rosabyrine uniforms went so well with the gardens and the boys themselves, there was no way he wasn't going to get his money's worth of likes and comments on as many pictures as he could. Alyssa was in the same camp apparently.

"Reine! Stand over here! You look so perfect with the roses!"

The princess gladly agreed to model for a moment and let Alyssa, Cater, and a few others take her picture. Stepping into the role of crown princess made experiences like this almost second nature now. She didn't even mind that a few of the Heartslabyul boys wanted to take pictures with her as well. Riddle would periodically look over his shoulder as he was caring for the hedgehogs before the croquet match and try not to glare at his dormmates buzzing around Reine like excited little bees. It's fine. She doesn't seem to mind, he thought to himself. This was the first time they've ever had female visitors to their dorm so it's to be expected that the boys would be excited....he looked over his shoulder again when he heard Reine's laugh. Deuce and Ace were arguing about something, again, before Cater pushed a now very flustered Deuce to take a picture with Alyssa which just made Ace tease Deuce more. The whole time Reine and Trey were talking and smiling about...something. Riddle felt himself begin to sweat a bit. Surely Trey wouldn't betray him, right?! Cater was another story but not Trey! As if he read the flustered boy's mind, Trey looked over at Riddle as soon as Reine was distracted and gave him a reassuring smile before subtly nodding his head in Reine's direction. That's when Riddle noticed the red rose and ribbons in her hair. His heart immediately skipped a beat after he recognized them. He quickly turned back around, hoping no one else saw his face flush. He silently cursed himself, not hearing someone come up behind him minutes later.

 "Riddle?"

The boy nearly fell to pieces at the sound of that oh-so-familiar voice behind him. He quickly composed himself the best he could and stood up to face a smiling Reine, "Miss Reine. Thank you for coming today. Are you enjoying y-yourself?" Stop. Stuttering.

The girl nodded happily and offered the checkered parcel to him, "I wanted to deliver this to you in person. To thank you for your purchase and to thank you for inviting us today. The Heartslabyul dorm is even more beautiful than I imagined!"

Somehow her excitement completely overshadowed any other feeling of propriety Reine may have felt before now. Riddle didn't mind, it was refreshing. He softened a bit as he took the items from her, noticing both the fresh white rose and how much happier she looked today. It put him at ease quicker than he could imagine. It only got better once Reine saw the hedgehogs and gasped in delight, "Aww what cute little darlings!"   The tiny creatures all seemed drawn to her as she kneeled down to get a better look at them. Perhaps attracting small, adorable animals was a power all princesses had? Riddle wasn't sure but seeing the colorful hedgehogs cluster up to her, much like the boys had been doing earlier, made him feel both amused and weirdly envious. Yes, he knew that he was being silly but damn it all...she looked so pleased holding the little critters in her hands and cooing to them in a soft voice. Had it really only been one night that changed everything? Riddle was curious but not so much that he wanted to ruin her mood by questioning it. Instead, he joined her on the ground, properly introducing her to each little hedgehog, and showing her how each one liked to be held or pet or fed certain snacks. He almost forgot that there was an entire party of other people all around them. Unfortunately for him, Cater had already gotten plenty of shots while the two were distracted. 

 "They're so adorable it's almost sickening," he chuckled as he scrolled through the pictures he had taken of the unaware couple, "and look. They almost match, awww~" 

Trey looked at the picture on Cater's phone of Riddle and Reine side by side, both in their dorm uniforms, both looking very content as if they themselves were the king and queen, enjoying their own personal garden. He convinced Cater to respect their privacy and not upload those pictures onto Magicame...but he also asked that Cater text him that specific picture later. He hated to interrupt but it was almost time for the croquet match and he knew how Riddle was about keeping everyone on schedule. 

"Would you like to play as well, Miss Reine?" Trey asked, ignoring Riddle's put-out expression at the interruption. Just when they thought Reine couldn't get any more excited, her face lit up at the offer. 

"Can I?!"

"Of course," Trey chuckled, "do you play back home?"

Reine's excitement dimmed, "Unfortunately no. My mother doesn't allow traditional Red Queen croquet matches in her court anymore. She thinks it's cruel to the animals and just too silly and improper in general. I haven't played a game since I was a child and visiting my cousins." 

Riddle inwardly scoffed at what he just heard, "I don't know about being 'improper', but I assure you Heartslabyul takes pride in our care for these creatures and we also take pride in our matches. I insist you join in our game today, Miss Reine. This one seems particularly fond of you," he nodded to the blue hedgehog that had relaxed in Reine's hands quite some time ago and refused to move. Reine just beamed like a kid in a candy store as Riddle took her to meet the flamingos. Fortunately, the blue flamingo also took to her very quickly.

- 

"Let's run all the way through it one more time!"

Elise sat in the bleachers, watching her friends practice their routine with pride. The music and dance contest tomorrow wasn't nearly as big of an event as the official VDC festival but that wouldn't stop Manari and her team from giving it their all. Normally, the dance team would perform on their own but once the girls caught wind of their competition, they joined forces with Charlaine who had already gained some traction on Magicame for her singing. The petite Oscenellus dorm leader was known for her charming bell-like voice and repertoire of dreamy love songs which didn't really go with Manari and Jinnah's modern take on the fluid dances from their homeland but somehow, they made it work. Charlaine proved to be a fast learner, making the girls' dancing flow together seamlessly as she led with her vocals front and center.   The princess gave the girls a standing ovation as the song ended. Manari called for another short break and joined Elise up in the bleachers with a confident smile, "I know we're going up against both Vil and Neige tomorrow but I'm feeling pretty good if I do say so myself."

"You make it look like you could perform this routine in your sleep," Elise laughed, "the sheer force of popularity and bitter rivalry is against us across the board, unfortunately..." she pouted at the sales stats on the tablet in her hands, "I hate to say it but we're completely outmatched by Royal Sword and Night Raven."

"So gloomy," Manari sighed, "Can't say you're wrong though. Imagine how the Night Raven boys must feel, getting shown up on their own turf, oof...it's the Magift game all over again."

"Speaking of which...isn't this the same headband you wore to the game, Manari?" Elise gave the Kalim replica headscarf a smug grin. 

"Nooo...that one was burgundy and gold with a lot more beads. THIS one is white and gold and doesn't have the same train on it. Totally different, " she ignored Elise's look of skepticism, "besides not only does it bring me good luck, the Scarabia boys keep wanting to take pictures with me. I should start selling tickets. Ooo I'd make a fortune!" 

The girls laughed but Elise suddenly paused and gave Manari a serious look, "Wait...how many boys have asked you so far?"

"Geez, I've lost count. Even some of the boys from Royal Sword have stopped me for pictures!"

Eureka. Elise's face broke out into a smile, "Manari, you just gave me the best idea ever. Jinnah! Charlaine! Come here!"

The other girls formed a circle around the princess as she explained her idea to them in detail. It was very last minute and she would need some help but if they could pull this off...

"We may not be able to beat our brother school directly, but we can help our new friends here at Night Raven get some revenge while also getting a nice profit ourselves...what do you say, girls?"

The excitement spread like wildfire as the plan was passed on to the rest of the dance team. Manari and Jinnah shared a look of mischief before giving a unanimous 'oh yes!' and Charlaine was practically bouncing up and down like a chipper little bird. 

"Excellent. With Manari and Jinnah's combined illusion magic, we should be in business."

"Is this really ok though? The Headmistress is very strict about us using our magic outside the classroom...and this isn't on the photography club's schedule. She's bound to notice something is up." Charlaine wasn't against the idea, just the possible repercussions if they got caught.

Elise's cool resolve didn't even flinch, "Exactly. We need to be discreet and keep the details under tight wraps...which is why I know exactly who can help us."

Manari gave the shorter redhead a sly grin, "Besides...we only get in trouble if we get caught." 

-

The Rosabyrine girls' laughter ran throughout the Heartslabyul gardens as the sun crossed the sky. Reine couldn't hide her amusement as she chased after her mischievous little blue hedgehog as it kept trying to scamper off the field, "Come back here, you adorable little menace! One more swing and I promise I will give you as many treats as you like!" 

Riddle couldn't help but tease her a bit as his red animals had been behaving perfectly the entire time, "Having a bit of trouble, Miss Reine?"

The princess shot him a wry smile, "Why do I feel like you put them up to this, Riddle? Scared of losing your title to a new challenger so soon?"

The Heartslabyul boys were both shocked and amused to see someone so casually test their dorm leader. Cater took this rare opportunity to poke the bear a bit as he waited his turn, "Oooh you gonna let her talk to you like that, Dorm Leader??"

Riddle just snorted and gave the diamond a smug look, "Can you afford to be so concerned about me, Cater? Her Highness knocked you out of the running ages ago." 

Reine finally got her hedgehog to settle down long enough to take her final shot, securing her place in the top three with a gleeful cheer. Sure Riddle was still the champion but she did far better than expected. Cater took his last shot with the same lack of precision as he had been doing the entire game, letting Reine take his spot in second. Only Riddle seemed to notice but said nothing as the senior gave him a wink. The rest of the garden applauded and cheered, congratulating Riddle on another solid victory before the other boys started rallying up the flamingos and hedgehogs. Reine found her ornery blue ball and scooped it up in her hands like Riddle showed her earlier, sweetly apologizing for wearing the poor thing out. Riddle took a moment while everyone else was distracted and walked up to her. She looked up at him with an impish sparkle in her eyes.

 "Congratulations on taking first place. I suppose I will have to come back tomorrow to pour your tea, Your Majesty..."

Riddle's smile was a proud one, "Rule #703 - 'Whoever comes in 2nd place during a croquet match must serve tea to the Queen the next day.' It would seem so." 

Reine grinned slyly, "I shall arrive within the hour of your teatime. I wouldn't want you to break another rule on my account...Rule #228?" she giggled and brushed her fingers against the red petals of the rose adorned in her hair as Riddle's face turned the same shade. This girl would be the death of him, he was now sure of it. He sputtered some kind of response before finally getting enough of a grip to deflect the attention off of himself.

 "Y-You seem much happier today, Miss Reine. I'm glad."

Reine couldn't deny it but the events from the day before were still waiting in the back of her mind. She just decided to let them sit back there for today and as such, kept her soft regal air on and at the ready. Besides, when was the last time she had this much fun and it come so easily? Reine didn't want to ruin it, especially when they only had a few more days of the festival left. The realization felt sad but the princess stood and faced her host with a smile nonetheless.

 "I have you and the rest of Heartslabyul to thank for it," she suddenly became self-conscious now that the party was quieting down, "I..I'm sorry, I've been so flighty today. It's just been so long since I've had so much fun." 

Riddle gently took the blue hedgehog from her hands and smiled tenderly, "Don't apologize. I like seeing you this way." 

Riddle's voice was so quiet just between the two of them in their little corner. His heart was thumping in his chest and yet he managed to speak so earnestly it almost scared him. He felt his face grow warm when he realized how close they were to each other and how Reine was now staring at him...actually more like staring into him with her dark, curious eyes. His brain screamed at him to move away but he was completely frozen. 

 "What way is that, Riddle?" she asked, unmoving herself and speaking just as softly. 

The boy suddenly found it hard to breathe as he struggled to find the proper words, "Uh..just...I just like it when you feel comfortable around me. And everyone else too. It makes me feel good to know that you can be here and be yourself naturally. It feels...special." He felt his internal panic skyrocketing as every word that left his lips made the girl in front of him look more and more surprised. Their faces were so close that her warm, sweet breath tickled his as she hummed happily.

 "You are someone very special yourself, Riddle Rosehearts...I'm so happy that I've met you." 

The redhead nearly fainted as he felt his soul start to leave his body. The next moment was met with both overwhelming relief and internal rage crashing into the other as Cater popped up out of nowhere.

 "Hey you two~ Sorry to interrupt," Riddle wasn't convinced, "but Miss Reine, you have a call on your phone? You left it by your teacup during the game earlier." 

Riddle glared flaming hot daggers at the third year after Reine politely excused herself and thanked Cater for fetching her phone. The senior just grinned nervously at his dorm leader, "Now now, Riddle, let's calm down, shall we? You said you didn't want anyone to know right? You were getting pretty transparent there for a second..." Cater said in a hushed yet amused tone, making Riddle huff in flustered silence, "You're welcome~!"

 Once Reine returned to her seat, she was met with Manari's smiling face via video call, "Helloooooo! You having fun over there, hmm? Well, we can talk about that later. Listen, Elise got an amazing idea for tomorrow and we gotta move fast! Elise is getting things moving as we speak! So...!"

-

The Mostro Lounge proper had a quiet oasis feeling to it after all of the excitement of the past few days. The dorm leader sighed contently in the silence as he sat in at this desk, counting and calculating number after number. His peace was short-lived much to his annoyance once Floyd burst through the door without knocking.

"Azul~ You have a special visitor, heheh~" 

The octopus was about to scold the eel but stopped in his tracks when he saw the smiling girl standing in the dorm frame. 

"Hello Mr. Ashengrotto," Elise said his name sweeter than normal which sent a shiver through him as she approached his desk, "Please pardon the intrusion but I need to speak with you."

The girl laid a stack of what looked like contract papers in front of him, her sweet demeanor never faltering as he looked up at her in surprise. 

"I would like to make a mutually beneficial deal with you." 

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

Tagging:

@foxwitchaine @iscarlettappel @aiimee9 @nuitthegoddess @1ndigowitch @wysteriadelights @victoria1676 @evieyouknow

#neoninky #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #sacred crown chronicles #her ivory crown #chapter repost #ch 7 #twisted wonderland #twst oc x canon #twst oc schools #twst oc dorms #twst oc #night raven college #royal sword academy #sacred crown hall #heartslabyul #octavinelle #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #cater diamond #deuce spade #ace trappola #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #the tweels #reine castilene #elise coralette #alchemi alchemivich pinka #twst chenya

[cordonian-literature]

The Aftermath - Ch. 34

Happy Birthday, Ella

Summary: It’s Eleanor’s 18th birthday

Word Count: ~2.6k

A/N: big time jump! 

A/N 2: ahhh this is the last chapter!! the one before this was sort of a conclusion but in this one is more like... the aftermath of the aftermath, haha. anyway, this was more than difficult to get out, firstly because i absolutely suck at conclusions so if this is terrible, sorry :( and secondly because this is my first fic and i really can’t believe it’s finished! am i crying? maybe... anywayyy, thank you all so much for reading!! i hope you’ve enjoyed this series as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it!! <3

Warnings: mention of character death

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s book, “The Goldfinch”)*

Tags:  @captain-kingliamsqueen @gkittylove99​ @lovablegranny @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @twinkle-320 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @pens-girl-87 @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @cordonia-gothqueen @queenwalton @yourmajesty09 @alj4890 @choicesbutterfly 

- Eleanor - 

I sit at the empty desk across from my bed. There is nothing in front of me, but I stare at my neat piles of notebooks and novels: some that Daddyo had recommended to me, others that I had borrowed from his library.

My bedroom door is open. From the hall, I hear the tapping of Roger’s paws and the light thuds of Fabian’s footsteps. The noise of their arrival lightly raises me from my seat and my tired thoughts. I walk out of my room and go after them.

Roger runs away from Fabian with something in his mouth. My little brother giggles as he runs after our dog, struggling to keep up with him. The dog weaves through crowds of servants, making its way towards the front of the palace.

Fabian sighs, frustrated. I put my hand on his shoulder and urge him to continue on with me.

Once we reach the front doors, we see that Roger has stopped running and is having his belly rubbed by Aunt Rowan, while her oldest son, Rowell, races towards my brother.

Rowell and Fabian run off quickly, already in the midst of a game. Lord Maxwell gives me a side hug, holding his and Aunt Rowan’s youngest son to his side.

I hug Aunt Rowan, then give the little babe a kiss on his chubby cheek. I lead them towards the sitting room, where Mama drinks tea with Duchess Hana and Duchess Olivia.

After the adults are all seated, they usher me out of the room. I giggle, saying that there’s nothing they have to hide from me, but I know what they’re planning and agree to leave.

Outside the sitting room, I decide to go look for Gabe and Daddyo, hoping that their meeting with the dignitary was over. I check my watch and see that they should have been done about a half-hour ago, but I know my brother had probably gone on overtime.

He had started taking his duties more seriously as of late, and I know it’s because of the talk Daddyo had with us at Applewood. He had insisted that I come along into town with them and receive the same speech, even though I said I was fine with staying behind.

Gabriel and I had laughed when Daddyo told us that he was the heir and I was the spare. The silly phrase wasn’t the only thing that sent us into a fit of laughter, but it was also a bit of disbelief. My brother and I weren’t naive; we knew what the people of the court had to say about me being a member of the royal family. Daddyo never failed to remind us that their opinions didn’t matter and that I was his daughter no matter what anyone said, but of course, people kept talking.

Sometimes I wanted to argue with him and say that keeping my last name as Blaise — while Gabe’s had been changed to Rys years ago — would keep me from being fully considered his daughter, even though he had officially adopted me when he married my mother.

But I knew such arguments were ones that broke his heart. The smallest change in my behavior made him fear that I no longer considered him my father, which was heartwarming, in a sense, but also depressing. (When I was about twelve, I had thought calling him “Daddyo” was too childish, so like Gabe I called him “Dad.” One morning he pulled me to the side and with the saddest eyes asked me if I was upset with him, or if he had done something to anger me. I laughed it off but went back to calling him “Daddyo” immediately. Though I cringed every time I said it, it was better than upsetting the only man who had ever felt like a true father to me).

And so most of my daily thoughts were now consumed by the anger I had for my biological father — everything he did to my family, and to the nation and people I had come to love — but I was slowly coming to terms with it. Even though I was ashamed of him, I was accepting the fact that he could no longer dictate my life or the lives of those I love.

These past few months marked ten years after the bombing. When my father had died, and Gabe and I had been in the hospital waiting for Mama to get better, I had been childishly angry at him. My last clear memory with my biological father had been reminding him to take pictures of the new exhibit at The Met so I could get a glimpse of what he and my mother would see. He was never able to show me those photos. That is, if he even took any.

But that was a different kind of frustration. One that, if my little brother Fabian expressed, I would sadly laugh at and explain to him the seriousness of the situation.

Theodore’s actions had controlled all of us, even Daddyo, Uncle Drake, Lord Maxwell, and Duchess Hana.

But now we are all in control of our lives again. Uncle Drake and Duchess Olivia had done honorable work with the King’s Guard. Lord Maxwell and Aunt Rowan had married a few months after my parents did, and a year later Duke Rashad married Hana — around the time Fabian was born. Daddyo eventually mended his relationship with Uncle Leo, and every few months his family would come to visit us.

Any person who was a threat, such as Boris — his betrayal was one that broke my childish heart, but not a day passed where I missed him— and Uncle Drake’s ex-fiancée, Jessica, were spending the rest of their lives behind bars.

It had taken our parents a while to tell us everything, and when they finally did, it took even longer for us to come to terms with it all. But Daddyo and Mama never pushed us away when we needed to talk to them.

As I walk up the stairs to Daddyo’s office, I take deep breaths, allowing the concerns to flow out of me. Before I knock on the door, my mind is clear.

I smile to myself as I reach for the handle, memories of our obstacles so far behind us that I feel foolish worrying about them at all.

Inside, Daddyo, Gabe, Fabian, and Rowell are crowded around something on the desk. Everyone turns to face me.

“Is it time for the party?” Rowell asks.

“Shush!” Fabian elbows his friend while Gabe and Daddyo laugh.

Once the boys are done scolding each other, Daddyo asks, “What do you think about eating out for lunch?”

“Same restaurant?” Fabian questions.

“Unless you wish to go someplace else?” 

I shake my head, then link my arm through his. “No, I like that place.”

As we walk out the doors of the palace, we spot Uncle Leo, Aunt Katie, Hunter, and Heather with bags in their hands. Once they see us, they lightly toss those bags back into their limo, and they join us in our car to go eat lunch.

We had eaten in this restaurant on my eighth birthday, which had been only a week after Mama and Daddyo had come back from their honeymoon. My family came here often, and Uncle Leo liked joining us.

We enter the restaurant and see that the place is empty. The menus are put in front of us, and we order without looking at it. Fabian and Rowell talk between themselves, and Heather tells me about their flight, while Uncle Leo asks Gabe how he’s feeling. 

Gabe shakes his head, an amused look on his face. “You know, I thought this would all be overwhelming. I was scared that the pressure would bring the anxiety back, but it didn’t.” 

Uncle Leo pats my brother’s back. “Now tell me about that girl you mentioned in that course you took.” 

Gabe’s face goes red, and he gives a little laugh. Aunt Katie raises her eyebrows, while Daddyo urges him to talk. 

My brother leans back in his seat, the amusement increasing. “I’m think I’m gonna draft a letter to her.”

“Oh?” Aunt Katie takes a sip of her drink.

“I’m planning on asking her to join the next Social Season. That reminds me.” He cuts off and looks towards our father.

But before he can say anything, Uncle Leo goes, “Gabe, go to your dad when you want to know what not to do. Take my advice instead—”

Hunter interrupts him: “You say that like your advice doesn’t backfire on the regular.” 

“Poor soul is speaking from experience,” Heather whispers to me. Daddyo overhears her, and laughs with us. 

We leave as soon as we finish our meal, not considering dessert. The ride back to the palace is filled with smooth conversations and laughs. As the limo stops in front of the entrance, everyone tells me to exit the vehicle first. 

Tentatively, I crawl out the car and make my way up the stairs. Servants open the doors for me, and the entire room is flooded with balloons, decorations, and sweets. 

My mother kisses my cheek, then Daddyo and Gabe wrap me in a hug. Fabian runs off quickly with Rowell.

The rest of my parents’ friends continue giving me birthday wishes, until Fabian finally reemerges with an envelope in his hand. Everyone crowds around me as I open it and take out a thin, rectangular piece of paper. 

“It’s a bookmark!” Fabian cries as I examine it. I turn it over in my hands, feeling the soft edges against my skin. On the other side, there’s a drawing of six stick figures. Fabian puts his finger on the bookmark, and I bring it to his eye level. 

“That’s you with the books since you like reading,” he tells me. “That’s Daddy and Mom since they have the crowns, and Gabe is the one with the smaller crown, and that’s me and Roger, and that’s our home in the background.” I follow his finger as he points to his little drawings. “I know it’s not very good, but I didn’t know what else to get you!” He giggles as I further examine it. 

“No one knew what to get her,” Gabe comments. “Little Miss—” he takes on a high pitched voice— “Oh, you don’t have to get me anything! No, really, I don’t want anything!” 

The room of friends laugh and chuckle at the mocking voice. 

I go through everyone else’s gifts, which are mostly things that I can use, but don’t need and didn’t ask for; like Fabian said, everyone had wanted to get me something, but I was in need of nothing. I know that Uncle Maxwell was more than frustrated when I told him so, and he must have been even more upset when he couldn’t get any hints out of my parents either. His and Aunt Rowan’s present to me are new pointe shoes. 

Duchess Olivia had started giving me more self-defense lessons, so her gift to me is a stiletto knife, along with stiletto shoes.  

Duke Rashad and Duchess Hana give me a pearl necklace: when the Duchess had taught me how to paint, we had made portraits of each other and had illustrated pearls on our pictures. The portrait I had made of his wife was the Duke’s favorite.

Uncle Leo and Hunter give me new paint brushes and a steel paint easel. Heather hands me a cup with a picture of her and I on it — I had given her something similar for her birthday — and Aunt Katie gives me a cute bag.

Uncle Drake gifts me a new pair of skis: last winter and during the Social Season, we had raced down a slope and I had lost both times. “So you can practice a bit more next time we head to Lythikos,” he tells me with a pat on my back.  

Gabriel hands me a heavy box. My arms burn as I make my way towards a table and put it down. Inside are books that are on my to-read list, candies that we had tried and liked on our last family trip to Italy, a bracelet with charms, and gold earrings shaped like a crescent moon. “You didn’t give me any clues for what you wanted, so I just put all of them in there,” my brother says with a shrug. 

Mama and Daddyo’s gift is next. My father wraps me in a large hug, then holds me to his side as servants roll in a new Baroque piano — it was similar to the one I had seen in a museum the last time we visited Applewood. The old one was being wheeled out; I had played it daily in the last few years, both for the entertainment of my family and for important members of the nobility, and even though it was constantly cared for, the strings had started to become dusty. I knew we wouldn’t get rid of it; I was sure that Daddyo had plans to donate it, but again I felt that there was no need for a newer one. We could have just taken more care of the one we had. 

But I don’t complain. I could never complain for this group of people who love me so dearly. I accept hugs from everyone in the room, and then the cake is brought out. The frosting looks like a painting, and is sweetly smooth as we eat it, the icing staining the corners of our mouths. 

We sit and chat about nothing at all, simply enjoying the blissful companionship that came with family and beloved friends. I had told my parents that I didn’t want a big party, and this was exactly what I had in mind. The room is light and joyful: Uncle Maxwell tells jokes while Uncle Drake rolls his eyes, Mama throws her head back, Daddyo’s arm around her while he tries his best not to laugh, and Uncle Leo, Hunter, and Gabe wipe tears from their eyes. 

The rest of the party is spent like that. The irreplaceable friendships that had went from nothing, to everything, to nothing again, then beyond the meaning of intimacy that came with being understood. It fills the rooms of the palace as it has these last ten years. 

I think about the gifts I’ve been given today, wondering where I would put them in my room — except for the piano, which I will leave in the ballroom — and how I will use them. I smile when I remember Gabe’s joke about my refusing presents. 

I don’t think he understands that I didn’t wish for specific objects because I can’t remember the last time I longed for anything, and if I ever did, there was no request that Daddyo wouldn’t strive to fulfill. My life had never felt lonely or without purpose, and I think that means I’ve found happiness. Like everyone in this room.

Daddyo notices that I’ve zoned out a bit. From the corner of my eye I can see the gentle wrinkles on his face and the graying roots of his hair. He leans towards me and plants a kiss on my forehead. “Happy birthday, Ella dear. I love you.” 

I smile at him, then use my fork to steal a bit of icing off his cake. Fabian follows suit, and soon our dad’s cake has no frosting on it. 

The three of us laugh, and with a mouth full of sugar I say, “I love you, too, Daddyo.”

#the royal romance #choices the royal romance #choices trr fanfic #choices the royal romance fanfic #choices the royal heir fanfic #trr #trr au fanfic #liam x mc #liam x mc fanfic #maxwell x oc #choices fanfic #trr fanfic #choices trr #the royal romance fanfic

[rocksandrobots]

Of Rocks and Robots Ch. 8 - The First Day of School

Today was the first day of school and Hiro had volunteered to show Varian around. Their other friends all had earlier classes and would join up with them later, but for now it was just the two boys. 

While he had received a quick tour with Professor Granville last week, there were still more things that Hiro had to walk Varian through. Like, picking up his schedule, getting him his student ID, showing him where his individual classes were, and walking him through the ends and outs of campus life that only students knew or understood; such as the best places to study or which grumpy teacher to avoid. 

"And this is the Quad." Hiro explained as they walked across a large open field towards a short bridge with a stream running underneath, "Students like to come out here and study or test their inventions. It's usually more crowded than it is. I guess ‘cause it's the summer semester. That’s the robotics building over there and this….this is the new exhibition hall." 

Hiro’s voice became more hesitant as they stopped in front of a building with tall windows surrounded by a small pond that the stream ran into. As Varian surveyed the site, Hiro continued on, trying to ignore the bad memories that wanted to float to the top of his mind. 

“Here you’ll present your final projects and such.” 

Varian walked forward to get a better look, but stopped to peer at a marble block that stood in front of the building. There was an inscription carved into the stone and Hiro’s heart dropped as he knew what was coming next. 

“The San Fransokyo Institute of Technology: Exhibition Hall. This building is dedicated to the memory of Tadashi Hamada, a true hero.” Varian read out-loud in a disquieted voice. He turned to look questioningly at Hiro. 

Hiro heaved a heavy sigh and walked over to join his new friend, never taking his own eyes off of the memorial. He hadn’t had to recount how his brother had died before now. It was just common knowledge to anyone remotely familiar with the school. The event had made all of the local news channels at the time and Tadashi had become a legend among the faculty and student body. Hiro still heard hushed whispers from time to time from other classmates when he was around. They were the usual mix of pity and platitudes. He tried to ignore them as best as he could. 

“There was a fire.” He said slowly, trying to find the words without crying. “Tadashi ran back in to try and save someone...he.. didn’t make it back out.” His voice shook at that last confession, but he somehow managed to keep his composure. He then waited for Varian to go through the usual motions most everyone did; the apologies, the prying questions, the trite aphorisms, the unhelpful but well meaning advice, and sometimes a ‘what can I do?” as if anything could be done. 

But Varian didn’t do any of this. He simply stared at the block of stone as if deep in thought. Then after a while, still without looking at Hiro, he asked, “Did he save them?” 

Hiro looked back at him surprised. He hadn’t expected that response. When he didn’t answer immediately, Varian finally met his eyes and then rephrased the question. “Did he save the person he went back in for?” 

Hiro only stared back at the other boy, stunned. He tried to work his mouth but no sound would come out. How could he explain?

“No.” He eventually said “ Turns out they didn’t even need saving.” Hiro could have laughed at the irony of that statement if not for the stabbing pain in his chest. 

“The guy he went back in to save, was the one who started the fire in the first place.” The bitterness in his voice hung in the air like a dead weight. Once again he waited for Varian to respond to this revelation, but the boy only turned back to looking at the marble inscription; his lower jaw jutted out in thought as his eyes scanned the words again. 

The silence between the two of them was oppressive and Hiro found himself wanting to talk more just to make the awkwardness end. Yet now that he had started he also found that he didn’t want to stop either. 

“The school holds a showcase every year for prospective students. I had entered with an invention of my own. I called them microbots. They were really, really small robots. Super tiny and you could control thousands of them at a time with a neurotransmitter.” Hiro explained as he personally recalled making them, with his brother’s help. The fondness of that memory gave way to resigned anger as he pressed on with his story. 

“Professor Callaghan, the head of the robotic apartment here at SFIT, wanted them for himself. He staged the fire in order to steal them and faked his own death. When we first found out that they were stolen, the police wouldn’t believe us, so that’s when we created our super suits in order to stop him. Aaand we’ve just kept on superheroing since.” Hiro finished and silence fell between them once more. 

“Why did he want the microbots?” Varian eventually asked, still not looking at him.

 “He... wanted to use them to get revenge on Krei. He’s the guy who funded the Silent Sparrow project. Callaghan’s daughter was the original test pilot. She went through the portal, but never came back out. And he blamed Keri for sending her through.” 

“Abigail.” Varian said and Hiro looked at him, once again in surprise. 

“I read the project files you gave me.” He clarified.

“Oh, Yeah.” Hiro remembered. ”Well the good news is Baymax and I rescued her. So she’s back home now, safe.” 

It was Varian’s turn to look at Hiro in surprise. “You mean after everything he did, you still helped him?” He asked in disbelief. 

Now Hiro really hadn’t expected that question. He looked back at the other boy and he noticed a storm behind his piercing blue eyes. But what that meant, Hiro could only guess. 

“Well, yeah, Abigail didn’t do anything wrong and she was the one in trouble,” Hiro paused and mulled over the question again. Then he took a deep breath and admitted a hard truth, more for himself than anything, “Also I didn’t want to wind-up like he did. I didn’t want anger and hate to make me forget who I really was and what’s really important.” 

This time Hiro met Varian’s gaze with resolve, there was something consoling in just saying those words out loud. But Varian eyes darted back and forth as if trying to read Hiro’s face, at war with himself over what to say or do next. Finally he jerked his head back towards the memorial to stare at it once more, or rather to stare past it. 

Hiro followed his gaze and also looked out at the newly rebuilt building. This time he allowed himself to remember things, not the tragic event itself, but small things, like setting up for his presentation, the cheers of congratulations from his friends when he told them he was accepted into the school, his final conversation with Tadashi on the bridge nearby, and the speech he had given a few weeks ago to commemorate it’s reopening and to honor his brother. That was when Varian interrupted his thoughts. 

“What happened to Callaghan?” He questioned. 

“He went to jail. There’s an official court date, sometime next year, but he’s already pleaded guilty so it’ll just be about giving him an actual sentence.” Hiro said with a sigh. He was not looking forward to standing before a judge and jury and having all of this dredged back up again. “I could never get through it, through any of this, if it wasn’t for Baymax, Aunt Cass, and my friends.”

“Yeah, I guess having friends would make things easier.” Varian agreed quietly and then went back to vaguely staring out into the middle distance, contemplating Hiro’s story. As for Hiro himself, he could only look at his shoes, unsure of what to say. Several awkward minutes passed with neither boy looking at each other or saying anything. 

After some time, Hiro broke the silence first. “It’s almost lunchtime. How...how about I show you where the cafeteria is next?” 

Varian finally looked at him and agreed. “Alright.” He said and made to follow him.

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

Varian mulled over everything Hiro had said as he followed the other boy back across the yard. He couldn’t imagine anyone being so noble. Hiro’s commitment to doing what he believed was right was humbling. Varian would have killed the man, had he been in Hiro’s shoes.  

“I didn’t want to wind-up like he did.”

Varian’s stomach churned while recalling those words. Isn’t that actually what he had done though. Had he not hurt other people while seeking revenge against a rich and powerful foe? But what else was he to do? It wasn’t like he could bring the king to trial and have him sent to jail instead. 

Varian wrestled with these questions and not for the first time. He had spent a whole year battling his rage, sadness, and guilt; his darker emotions always bubbling under the surface, threatening to spillover at any moment.  

Sometimes Varian felt as if his cheery demeanor was just like a dam next to an ocean, made to hold back his more violent feelings, which constantly beat against the crumbling structure. Any leak or rupture could bring the whole thing tumbling down and he’d be swept away in a sea of his own hate. Along with anyone else caught in his path.   

In truth this frightened him. But he knew nothing else other than to keep up the facade. So he slapped on a cheerful smile as he entered the cafeteria.

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

The cafeteria was far more busy than the courtyard had been. Students milled about everywhere, eating and talking. The two boys got in line to order food. 

Hiro was just deciding on what he should get, and annoying a very grouchy looking lunch-lady while at it, when he heard someone yell his name out. 

"Hiro!" A taller girl, wearing a turtleneck and with long brown hair tied up in a ponytail, was waving frantically at him as she made her way over to them. 

"Karmi?" Hiro's disbelief quickly turned to joy when realization struck him. "Karmi!" He yelled and ran to scoop the woman into a hug. The forcefulness of which sent them both spinning and laughing in exuberance. 

When they finally untangled themselves Hiro asked, "What, what are you doing here? I thought your parents sent you away." 

"Well, we spent the past two months arguing about it. I didn't want to go. So they agreed that I could come back for the next semester." she smiled and then explained, "I just have to call, like everyday, and go home every other weekend. Also no more internships." She said this last bit sadly. Last term she had been kidnapped and experimented on by the lady she was interning for. Hiro had managed to rescue her, but her parents had unrolled her and took her back upstate to where they lived. 

"Well, I'm glad you're back," Hiro gave her a warm smile and she returned it. "Oh, I almost forgot. This is Varian." He said while turning to his new friend, "He's just moved here from Europe." 

Varian walked over to meet them and Hiro continued with the introductions. "Varian, this is my friend Karmi. She's one of the younger students here at SFIT, like us."

“Hi” He said and held out his hand for Karmi to shake. 

“Oh! So you got into college early too?”Karmi excitedly exclaimed while vigorously shaking his hand. “Are you Hiro’s age?” 

“I’m sixteen.” He answered.

“So am I! Well, actually, I’ll be seventeen in a few months but, still it’s nice to finally meet someone here who is my age. What are you majoring in?” 

Varian looked back down at the schedule he was holding,”Uhh... Applied Physics and Engineering.” He read out-loud. Apparently alchemy wasn’t a major he could study here, and Professor Granville had told him that this was the best one for what he was trying to achieve. 

“So you’re a physicist. I’m going for a Biotech degree. I want to become a microbiologist and right now I’m studying viruses to try and create a new vaccine.” She eagerly explained her ongoing research. 

Varian took a moment to absorb this information, some of the words she used were new to him, but he did understand that vaccines were a type of medicine. “So you’re studying to become a physician?” He asked, putting what she had said into a context that he knew. 

Karmi nodded yes and embolden, Varian tried to use some of the new vernacular he had been learning. “That’s, what’s the word, cold? My mother was a medic.” He added trying to find a point of connection in order to keep the conversation going. But Karmi only looked at him in confusion. 

“Cold?” She said. 

“I think you mean ‘cool’.” Hiro chimed in.

“Oh, right.” Varian realized his mistake, “Sorry I’m still getting used to the slang here.” He chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his head.  

“Oh, that’s right. Hiro said you were from Europe. What language do you usually speak?” She asked. 

“Oh lots.” He replied, happy to brag about something he did know. “English, German, Russian, Latin, Italian…”

He was listing off all the ones he knew, or at least could read, if not speak, when Karmi interrupted him excitedly. 

“Do you speak French?” She blurted out. 

“Oui.” He returned in French and they both started to giggle. 

Hiro looked back and forth between the two of them, unable to figure out what was so funny. He had been watching their ongoing conversation with a growing unease. He was beginning to feel left out and a twinge of jealousy started to cloud his thoughts. Though if you had asked him, he couldn’t have told you why. He should have been happy that his friends were getting along, shouldn’t he? 

“Oh, do you two wanna sit with me at lunch?” She asked, never looking away from Varian. 

Hiro found himself sliding between the two of them trying to get into Karmi's line of sight, if only to get her to stop looking at the other boy for just a moment. 

“No. Sorry, but we gotta go?” He said, his voice going high like it always did when he lied or made an excuse. 

“But I thought we came over here just to eat?” Varian asked in confusion and Hiro’s mind began to race. What was he doing? Why had he said that? How could he get out of this situation and keep Karmi from talking to Varian anymore? And why did he even care? 

“Uh.. we did...but I just remembered thaaaat...I hadn’t shown you the lab you will be working in. We wanna get there and get you set up before the other students come in and , uh… hog all the … tools.” Hiro cringed. It was the lamest excuse he’d ever given. Oh, why did he have to be so bad at lying? 

Varian and Karmi only exchanged questioning looks at one another and shrugged. 

“Okay, just let me grab an apple to go.” Varian agreed and turned back to the line. 

“You, go do that.” Hiro said in a strained but relieved voice. He then turned to Karmi who was giving him a worried look. 

“Is everything ok?” She asked. 

“It’s fine.” His voice squeaked. He then let out a heavy sigh and added, “Look, I’m really glad you’re back. I’ll see you around?” 

“Yeah,” She agreed and gave him a soft smile. Varian walked over to join them again, having procured his apple, when Karmi waved goodbye to them both.

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

Hiro stormed ahead down the hall, his hands in his pockets and his eyes lowered to the ground. He was still embarrassed and angry at himself over the incident in the cafeteria and didn’t really feel like talking. Varian tagged along blithely, munching on his apple. If the other boy had noticed Hiro’s mood he made no show of it. This only made Hiro’s resentment grow, which in turn only made him even more confused about his feelings. 

“You know what?” Varian asked cheerfully as he took another bite of his apple. 

“No, what?” Hiro responded deadpan, not looking at him as he read the numbers on the doors as they passed by them. 

“I read online that there are over three hundred varieties of apples sold in America.” He said and Hiro stopped to look at him confused. What did apples have to do with anything?

“I wanna see if I can buy one of each and take them back home with me.” Varian said with a sly smile. “It would explode Dad’s mind. He’d be so happy!” 

“Explode? You mean, ‘blow his mind.” Hiro corrected. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” Varian took another bite, seeming to ignore his blunder, and then flashed Hiro a winning smile. 

Hiro could only laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, which apparently was the reaction Varian had been hoping for, and they both broke down snickering. 

“Can you imagine? Just a pile of apples taller than my dad, and he’s a pretty tall guy.” Varian said, holding his hand high above his head indicating his father’s height.

“Yeah, he’ll cry with joy.” Hiro agreed through his laughter, and just like that all of his previous anger just melted away and he couldn’t even remember why he had been upset at the guy. 

“Oh, this is it,” Hiro stopped and pointed to a door up ahead. As they walked towards it he continued, “This is the communal lab you’ll be working in. Granville made sure to give you one to share with Wasabi and the others. That way there’ll be people that you know around who you can ask for help if you need it.” 

He opened the door and Varian walked past him to explore the large room. He spun around once and then turned back to Hiro. 

“Will you be working here too?” He asked. 

“Uh, sometimes, but I have my own lab in the robotics building.” Hiro explained. “They give out private labs to students who prove themselves, as like, a reward or something. I didn’t really do anything to earn one, myself, I just got Tadashi’s old lab. I guess Granville didn’t have the heart to clean it out and give it to someone else.” 

He recalled finding Tadashi’s old baseball cap in the office, and sadly looked out into the middle distance for a moment. When he came back to the present, he found Varian frowning at him in worry so he sprung back with a smile and joke. 

“If you thought living with Wasabi was a chore, just wait till you have to work with him.” 

This sent both boys laughing again, knowing how fastidious their friend could be.

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

Behind the two boys loomed a shadow, the owner of which was hidden away in even more shadow. As they laughed, ignorant of the danger they were in, their stalker paused and looked on. It would be so easy, the villain thought, so easy to attack now and rid the world of these two meddlesome pests while they were both alone, unarmed, and unaware of who was after them. But that could upset the balance. There was a needed timing to these things, one couldn’t rush the future, and if there was anything that the occupant in the shadows knew, it was patience.   

#of rocks and robots #varian #Hiro Hamada #karmi #tangled #tangled the series #tts #rapunzel's tangled adventure #rta #BH6 the series #bh6 #big hero 6 #big hero six

[nakey-cats-take-bathsss]

Life As We Know It 

Clarke and Bellamy have nothing in common except mutual hatred for each other and a shared love of their Goddaughter Madi. When the loss of their best friends forces them to move in together and raise Madi as their own, they'll have to come to terms with their relationship and the fallout of Lincoln and Octavia's death.

It may just take a few exploded diapers, pounds of applesauce and 5000 re-watches of Little Orphan Annie for them to figure out they don't hate each other so much after all.

Based loosely off the romantic comedy of the same name

Completed! 

*Ch. 1 posted below + AO3 Link* 

Prologue 

February 2nd, 2019

“What you want to do is capture the essence of his expression. It’s all in the eyes!” Clarke instructed, gesturing to the model in the middle of the room. She took in her favorite view, Friday afternoon charcoal sketch class. The class was aimed at high schoolers, most of whom had dreams of going to art school. They were an enthusiastic bunch, she loved affirming their talent and watching them follow their dreams.

Lost in her musings of high school talent, Clarke didn’t notice Harper standing in the doorway. She took a step into the room and held up Clarke’s phone. Clarke usually didn’t keep it on her while she taught but Harper looked panicked as she pointed to it wildly.

“You guys are doing great! I just have to check up on something real quick” Clarke assured as she took off her smock and followed Harper into the hallway.

“Sorry I normally wouldn’t interrupt you but your phone has been going off like crazy, it’s an unknown number.”

Clarke nodded and quickly took the phone from Harper, just as the phone began ringing again. Confused, Clarke answered and a tinny voice replied, “Arkadia Memorial Hospital, is this Clarke Griffin?”

A pit of dread immediately formed in Clarke’s stomach as she made her way to her office. Her hands were shaking now as her mind ran through all the possibilities of why they could be calling her. The operator paused and redirected her to another line. The dread continued to grow for Clarke until the phone reconnected and she confirmed her identity to a doctor. 

“You are listed as one of the emergency contacts for Lincoln and Octavia Blake, I’m sorry to inform you that there’s been an accident. Is it possible for you to come to the hospital?” A nasal voice asked.

At the word accident, Clarke’s mind whited out and her ears began ringing. Moving on autopilot she grabbed her keys and ran out of the school, forgetting her class entirely.

 She had met Lincoln on her first week of art school. As the two oldest people in their freshman lecture, they became fast friends. Neither of them had any family to speak of, so they kind of formed one together. They supported each other during their starving artist years, their first ugly pieces and celebrated their small victories in a cramped apartment that Clarke’s dad had left her in his will. Clarke had never had siblings, but Lincoln was the closest thing to a brother she had ever known.

He was gruff but kind and the best sculptor she had ever met. His sculpting is what had brought Octavia into their lives. Back when they were fresh out of school and doing shitty gallery shows in the bad part of town, a girl with long brown hair who wore funky sweaters would come to every exhibition to stare intently at Lincoln’s art. She came every week without fail, to every gallery that Lincoln’s sculptures were shown at. Lincoln used to watch her from afar and light up whenever he saw her looking at his work. Eventually, the week before Lincoln’s sculptures hit it big, Clarke convinced him to go and talk to her. The rest is history.

Clarke had never seen two people who complimented one another as well as Lincoln and Octavia, they were truly soulmates. Octavia with her bright smile and long limbs quickly became a staple in their lives. Much like Lincoln, she was a little rough around the edges but she loved fiercely with her whole heart. She never really questioned Clarke, just accepted her as Lincoln’s sister and loved her as such. It seemed logical of course when their daughter Madi was born that Clarke would be her Godmother. 

She reached Arkadia Memorial in record time and ran as fast as she could to the emergency department. When she reached the waiting room she skid to a halt, in front of her was none other than Octavia’s brother Bellamy Blake folded over in a chair wearing a worn Arkadia Fire Department sweatshirt and sporting red rimmed eyes.

    April 11, 2015

“Maybe I should just cancel…” Clarke held the phone between her shoulder and ear as she washed her paintbrushes in the sink.

 “You’ve been single for 3 years and  he just moved here, it's the perfect time for you both to start over.”

“I’m going to give you a code word…if I text you a fireball emoji he’s trying to murder me and you need to come save me,” she said seriously, drying the brushes and carefully placing them back into a chipped mug. 

She readjusted the phone and grabbed a rag to wipe down the paint splattered tables.

“You won’t need a code word...you’re being ridiculous, I've met Bellamy. He's exactly the opposite of that oily soft boy who must not be named, it'll be a nice change.” laughter cutting into Lincoln’s fake exasperation.

 “You can never be too careful…he might be  a psycho murderer.” Clark continued, "But you're right about Finn, he was a greaseball." 

 “Clarke. Bellamy’s a little rough around the edges but he’s great. Plus it'll be nice for you guys to get to know each other before the wedding." 

 “The maid of honor and the best man, tale as old as time."

 "True as it can be." Lincoln continued, the smile evident in his voice, "I think you guys are really well suited."  

 "I'll take your word on this but if he kills me I'll haunt you from beyond the grave.”

 “I’m hanging up. Try to be positive about this.”

Logically, Clarke knew that Lincoln was right and that she needed to start putting herself back out there. Her life had been pretty boring since her best friend had met the love of his life and moved out of their apartment. Her cat shockingly doesn’t make for a sparkling conversationalist.

Since Lincoln moved out and Finn had turned out to be a dick, she had thrown herself into work.

And she was now the proud owner of a small art studio and school. Initially, it had been difficult and sad but after a small feature from a popular art blogger, it seemed that she was finally getting her footing. The small studio had grown immensely in the past year and she was able to bring in her childhood friend Harper as a co-teacher.

Clarke finished wiping the tables and examined herself in the mirror by the door. She would need a shower before she met this tall dark and handsome mystery man. She looked like she had been hit with an acrylic paint tornado. 

On her drive home she listened to her favorite motivational podcast, hoping the affirmation would bring her some confidence for the rest of the night.

As time crawled closer to the date, her excitement grew. It had been a long time since she had gotten dressed up for someone else. After a lot of trial and error she finally decided on her favorite red bodycon, a nice pair of black heels and hoop earrings. She curled her hair into loose waves and perched on her couch to wait out her date.

An hour later, Clarke's optimism was quickly dying down. He was already late. Over an hour late. Fidgeting and checking the clock again, she shifted her dress down her legs and tapped her foot. She was starting to get annoyed, restless and hungry. She considered the Babybell cheeses in her fridge and wondered whether eating one would really matter in the long run. Right as she was about to head to the fridge, there was a loud revving outside and her phone pinged with a text from an unknown number,

 “Hey it’s Bellamy, I’m here.”

Rolling her eyes at the fact that he didn’t even bother to come to the door. Clarke gathered her purse, took a deep breath and headed out.

She was met by two things, a very hot man and a very large motorcycle. 

“I’m not really dressed for a that,” Clarke mumbled as she took in the sleek black bike and the messy haired man in ripped black jeans and frayed olive-green shirt. Dammit, Lincoln was right...he looked nothing like Finn. He was tall, dark, handsome and his arms were deliciously large. 

“Hold on tight, promise I won’t read too far into it if you cop a feel” he winked at her, arms flexing as he fished a helmet out of the seat

“I said I’m not really dressed for this, I don’t know if my leg will get over it," she replied, irritably crossing her arms over her chest. 

His eyes flitted down to her boobs before he snorted, “Don’t be scared babe I gotcha.”

“I can drive us," she insisted, moving her hands to her hips. 

“C'mon baby, live a little," he groaned, pulling the helmet off his head fully. 

“Either I drive, or I go back inside,” she tapped her foot. 

“We can just go back inside and get to it, if that’s what you really want Princess…” Bellamy winked and dismounted the motorcycle, turning to gesture toward the cars lined down the street.

“I’m not a princess,” Clarke argued while fishing through her purse for her keys.

“If the shoe fits,” Bellamy was about to smirk until Clarke clicked the lock on her car and the lights went up on the smallest car he had ever seen. “There’s no way I can’t fit in it that,” he mumbled gesturing at the mini cooper.

Bellamy looked between Clarke and the car in exasperation, “Like I said…I can drive or you can leave” she said with her hands on her hips. He sighed, looked at the car and then back at her before climbing in the passenger seat and slamming the door.

“Where do you want to go?” He asked, adjusting his messy hair in the rearview mirror. 

“Well where did you make a reservation?” Clarke arched an eyebrow, she could feel her temples beginning to throb.

“I figured we would just go with the flow,” he said irritably, adjusting the collar of his jacket. 

“I know a place, it’s owned by a friend of mine and Lincoln’s from art sch-“ right as Clarke was about to finish, Bellamy’s phone began to blare a cheesy Pitbull song.

“Why don’t you get that, I’ll just wait,” she rolled her eyes and looked pointedly at his phone. The song paused and then began ringing again. 

“No it’s okay give it a sec and it’ll go to voicemail”

“I insist go ahead”

With a pained expression on his face, Bellamy answered the phone, "Heyyyyyy what’s up?” he glanced at Clarke while making affirmative noises, “Yeah how about I stop by around 10-“ he looked at Clarke again, “actually make that 9:30”

“SERIOUSLY” she yelled as he hung up

“What?! It was a sick friend!” he answered defensively, throwing his hands in the air. 

"Right, a 'sick friend'," she mocked, rolling her eyes for what felt like the thousandth time. 

"Yes. They umm very ill and need assistance," 

"I would LOVE to know what illness can only be cured by your PENIS," she yelled, she could feel her face beginning to heat up. 

"Oh my god chill the fuck out!" he yelled back, turning his body fully to face her. 

“We don’t have to do this…I know it means a lot to Lincoln and Octavia but you don’t seem to care since you answered a booty call in front of me,”

“I can't believe Octavia said you were cool, suburbia has gotten to her. You’re literally the most uptight person I've ever met,” He smirked

“GET OUT OF MY SMART CAR” Clarke yelled, jumping out of the car and slammed the door behind her. Bellamy followed and hopped on his motorcycle without saying goodbye.

***

After a hot shower to wash away the terrible night, she put on her comfiest PJs and curled up onto the couch with a glass of wine. Sinking into the pillows, she grabbed her phone to call Lincoln. He answered on the first ring.

“I take it your date didn’t go well.” Lincoln sighed, the disappointment evident in his voice.

 “Linc…we didn’t leave my street.”  

 “Did you even give him a chance? Behind the motorcycle he really is a good dude,”

 “HE ANSWERED A BOOTY CALL IN FRONT OF ME!!"  

 “Ugh damn it...Octavia said he had changed. I swear I didn't know."  

“I’m sorry Linc, I know you wanted it to work out but it’s not really salvageable,” Clarke sighed, knowing how much it meant to Lincoln for her to get along with Octavia’s family. Especially since the wedding was coming up soon. 

 “You guys didn’t click. It’s fine. Are you going to be fine for the wedding?"

 “We can share breathing space for the wedding but I’d prefer to never speak to him directly ever again,”

 “Sorry about your night…can’t help but feel a little responsible”. 

“It’s not your fault Bellamy thinks his penis is the best thing since sliced bread. I love you bud. You meant well and that's what matters. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, there's a glass of wine with my name on it,” Clarke hung up the phone and sighed deeply. It stung to know that she had let Lincoln down even if Bellamy was a total asshat.

Clarke closed her eyes and savored her sip of wine, dating sucked and she would honestly prefer to just die alone in peace.

Her phone pinged and much to her surprise it was from Bellamy, “Look…I don’t like you (and you obviously don't like me) but I love Lincoln and my sister so I think we should just ignore each other from now on,” Unfortunately, he was right…they were basically family and she was going to have to see his stupid handsome face at all the time. “Deal”  Clarke replied.  

 February 2nd, 2019

Clarke approached Bellamy, his head was in his hands and he looked like he had been crying. He had balled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt and used them to wipe his eyes. 

"They won't tell me anything and I've been here for an hour," he murmured, his voice was ragged and cracked at the end of the sentence.  

"I'm sorry, I was teaching I didn't check my phone," she answered quietly, not really sure why she was apologizing. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. 

"You didn't miss much, I think I scared off a few nurses," he admitted and something about his expression made Clarke want to reach out and touch his hair. She refrained, shoving her hand in her pocket instead. 

"The waiting is somehow the worst part," she mumbled, not quite meeting his gaze. 

Just as Bellamy was about to answer, a solemn faced doctor approached them both, “Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake?”

They both nodded, and Bellamy stood to stand behind Clarke, sure to maintain a healthy level of distance. She wrung her hands together and shifted from side to side. The doctor's expression was unreadable and it was making her stomach turn. Bellamy was nervously tapping his fingers against his leg and the sound of his skin hitting the denim was starting to grate on her. 

“Lincoln and Octavia were rear ended on the highway by an 18 wheeler. It was a very serious accident.” The doctor grimaced, gesturing for them both to take a seat. The pit in Bellamy's stomach grew as we took a seat on the bench next to Clarke. Their legs were squished together and she reached out, carefully placing her hand on his knee. His skin tingled, this was the first time Clarke had touched him non-violently in years and it felt strange but he placed his hand over hers. Whether he liked it or not, she was the only person who understood how he felt right now.  

"So when can we see them?" Clarke asked, voice shaking.  

The doctor, set his clipboard down on the bench beside him and leaned forward. "Their injuries were very severe, they were both in surgery for several hours and had the best possible care. We truly did the best that we could. But unfortunately, with accidents like this, it's a lot of pain and stress on the body. In the case of Lincoln and Octavia, their bodies just couldn’t handle the damage. I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but we lost them." 

Clarke crumpled, chest heaving and ears ringing. Bellamy wrapped an arm around her uncertainly, he felt like he was frozen. It didn't feel real. It wasn't possible. Bile rose in his throat and a wave of nausea washed over him. Octavia was dead. 

“Their daughter…they have a daughter, she’s one. Is she okay?” Clarke said suddenly, whipping out of Bellamy's grip. Tears filled his eyes as panic set in, he hadn't considered that Madi could have been in the car with them. 

It was only then that they noticed a police officer standing to the right of the doctor. He was equally solemn faced and took a seat beside the doctor. 

The police officer spoke quietly, “Madi is fine. She was in the care of a minor at the time of the accident and has been released to DCFS. We will look into you both being able to see her tomorrow.”

Bellamy let out a sigh of relief as a complex set of emotions washed over him. Grief for his young, vibrant sister and her strong, caring husband, relief that Madi was alive and overwhelming sadness for the parents that she would never know. Shocked that somehow he was the last Blake standing. He placed his hand over Clarke’s on his shoulder, he might not like her but she’s all he had in this mess.

#ao3 fic #bellarke #bellarke fic #bellamy x clarke #bellarke fanfiction

[craby-bouquet]

Interruption {CH}

~part 1 ~

Xu Minghao x Reader

Romance, Royal!AU

3000 words

check notes for masterlist and more parts

Prince Minghao woke up, getting his schedule read to him by Yodi, his butler. He listened in silence to his busy schedule that day, while getting dressed.

He had a meeting in half an hour about tax raises,  a thing he wouldn't agree on; living in Voulux was expensive enough as it was. After that meeting he had about two hours to himself,  two hours he would spend doing paperwork,  before he had to get ready to go to the Voulux Fine Art exhibition where he was supposed to give a speech.

Voulux was one of the most respected countries of Pledis, maybe even the most respected. The whole world knew of its existence,  mainly for its art. The old masters of Voulux had left quite the impression on the country,  and even now the artist who lived here were outstanding.

Prince Minghao couldn't say he wasn't proud of his country. Expensive as it was to live here, Voulux had a good reputation. Wonderful art and a respected heir to the throne.

But,  as the people said,  with an example as the current king, it was impossible for the crown prince not to be perfect. The only thing missing was a great wife to guide the king to be. 

It was a thing the advisors always turned to talk about at meetings. And,  of course,  this meeting was like every other;

“We have discussed the matter and  your highness,  we're of the opinion that tax raises are indeed necessary.” Mister Lee prompted,  he didn't smile but Minghao could clearly see a smug look on his face.

Mister Chang made a noise indicating he thought that mister Lee’s idea wasn't very good “And why, Lee, do you think that is necessary? I don't see why a tax raise is in order.”

Lee sighed and turned to Chang “The money we get from it can go to other things. Important things like-”

At this mister Yin stood up “Like healthcare!”

Lee pointed at Yin and smiled “Like healthcare! Exactly Yin! And to police academies, the army and other important inquiries like that.”

Mister Tao chuckled softly “Last time I checked those departments got enough money to last a lifetime. We took care of those at the previous meeting.”

Prince Minghao turned his attention from the men to Yodi,  who was taking notes from beside him. Minghao noticed him, Yodi, rolling his eyes whenever one of the men started talking about reasons why taxes should raise. It made Minghao chuckle.

Mister Lee turned to his prince “Your highness, please, what do you think?”

Minghao sat up straight, Intertwining the fingers of his hands while laying them on the table before him. He scanned the inquisitive faces from his advisors and sighed deeply “I agree with mister Tao on this. Last meeting we decided our tax money should go to those inquiries. I personally don't think tax raises would make sense this time.” He looked around the table at the nodding faces and stopped at mister Lee's face. He clearly didn't agree.

“Unless…” Minghao raised an eyebrow “You had something else in mind to spend the money on,  mister Lee?”

Mister Lee bit his lip,  eyes focused on Minghao’s chin rather than his eyes “Well… your highness I… I just thought we could use the money for,  maybe, a wedding?”

Minghao had known the conversation was bound to go this way, it had done so over and over.

Minghao sighed and sat back in his chair “How generous I find your will to use our taxes for a wedding,  I doubt it will be necessary. Seeing as there is no one I find worthy to wed.” Harsh as it may sound,  it was the truth. Minghao hadn't fallen in love yet. They had gone over this last time as he had told them he would let them know as soon as he thought a wedding would be in order.

It seemed mister Lee wasn't sure what to do with his hands for a second “I am aware of that,  your highness…” He looked Minghao in the eye again “You know,  your highness,  my daughter is a very eligible woman. I think you two would get along very well…”

Minghao made a mocking sound, though he hadn't meant to make it “I'm sure that is true mister Lee. I think she will make for a fine wife for a man who loves her.” He looked around again “As for me, I'm quite enjoying my title as third most eligible bachelor of the Pledis union.”

The men at the table didn't say a word.

Minghao stood up after a couple of minutes of silence “I think we've decided tax raises would be rather otiose. Let us keep them at the height they are now. Thank you for coming here today gentlemen,  you are dismissed.”

Yodi stood up from beside him,  bowed to the men and followed prince Minghao out of the room.

“The nerve.” Minghao mumbled,  shaking his head as he was far from the room where the meeting had been.  Those men didn't at all seem to know what they word respect meant. They didn't listen, they didn't seem to think straight. All they thought about were their daughters, their own well-being. And,  of course, prince Minghao was sure those ladies were great and all but he wanted to wed someone more than great. Someone amazing.

Yodi chuckled “They sure don't know how annoying they are,  huh? You've told them what? 67 times before that you're not getting married to someone random? And they still don't seem to get it. How they became advisors is a miracle to me.”

Prince Minghao wasn't sure if Yodi was talking to himself or to Minghao. But who ever it was,  Minghao agreed with him. They either were to ignorant to understand that when the words “not” and anything close to “wedding” are in the same sentence it usually means there's not going to be a wedding. Or they were really stubborn and wanted to see the perfect crown prince annoyed. Whatever it was,  prince Minghao hated it.

Yodi shook his head as they reached prince Minghao’s room “I will come pick you up in about,” he checked the pocket watch Minghao had given him for his birthday last month. A faint smile tugged on Minghao’s mouth at the thought that Yodi actually used it. “... One and a half hour, your highness. I know you plan on doing paperwork but please, don't overwork yourself, get some rest.” Yodi bowed before walking away.

Minghao had always liked having Yodi around. Ever since he had come round the castle had seemed… less lonely. Before that no one had really known Minghao, he had never let anyone in before Yodi. This meant that Yodi knew everything there was to know about the young prince and could read him like no other. Yodi often knew what Minghao was thinking even before Minghao knew himself.

Though it annoyed him, he had to finish his paperwork by the end of the week,  he listened to Yodi and drew in his sketchbook instead of doing his paperwork. He didn't draw often, as crown prince he had way better things to do than drawing. Drawing wasn't for princes, drawing was for people who had way to much time on their hands. For people who didn't have to think like Minghao had to. He had to stay on the ground with both of his legs. He couldn't afford to drift off into his own world.

But in a country as Voulux, who wouldn't draw every once in a while?

His sketchbook had been long gone when Yodi came to pick him up to leave for the fine art exhibition. Imagine a crown prince drawing. That just wouldn't be right.  A prince had to be serious. Drawing was for commoners.

“Do you have your speech memorised, sir?” Yodi asked in order to start a conversation in the, until that moment, rather silent limousine.

Prince Minghao nodded, not turning his eyes away from the window “Yes.”

This was a thing Minghao enjoyed doing: speeches. He always wrote his own,  which was rare because important people always had their speeches written for them, but Minghao liked writing it himself. Not only because that way he could put his own opinion into it a little,  but also because it felt more real. It was more sincere.

He stepped out on the red carpet surrounded by flashes of cameras. People screamed for him to look their way, jumped up and down for him to notice them and even tried to slip past the guards standing on each side on the carpet to keep people from jumping over the surrounding fences. Minghao straightened his back to walk over the carpet into the big, artistic looking building. He didn't really smile, he had to look serious.

He entered the large hal filled with people only to be gaped at by everyone already present. He nodded his head at people in greeting and followed Yodi to where the prince was supposed to be.

The Chairman of the art society came walking towards prince Minghao with open arms and a wide smile. It was a small,  round man wearing a nice,  black suit “Your Royal highness, it is an honor to make your acquaintance.”

“The honor is mine mister Ren. Thank you for organizing such a fine exhibition.” Prince Minghao looked around out of courtesy, not really seeing anything.

The chairman beamed at the prince's compliment “Thank you,  your highness. Why don't you look around a bit before we start your speech? I could give you a quick tour if you'd like?” he straightened his back proudly.

Minghao curled one side of his lips up in a slight smile “You must be busy, mister Ren, I wouldn't want to be a bother.”

The chairman's eyes widened “Oh you wouldn't at all be a bother highness, on the contrary, it would be my honor.” without awaiting the crown prince’s answer, the chairman started his tour “We could start right here, at this wonderful piece of one of the old masters of Voulux. “conversation of death” by miss Zhao Zhi. A remarkable piece by a remarkable woman…” He looked off into the distance as if he was dreaming “Notice how she actually worked with some kind of texture.” He pointed at parts of the painting “You'll see that she used big brush strokes for the hay, using clair obscur, making the strays visible, almost touchable. And how she used a small textured brush for death's cloak to make it look soft and-”

Minghao had actually been listening interestedly when the party got interrupted by guards bursting through the door holding a beautiful girl by her arm. It was obvious that she had tried to tidy her hair for the party,  but now there were bits and pieces hanging loose in front of her face, probably because she had tried to hurry away from the guards. In her hand she was holding a quite small, square, canvas. It had clearly been painted on with bright colors.

Your eyes scanned the big room full of people but stopped when they noticed prince Minghao. You pushed your glasses a bit further up your nose with the hand you were holding the painting in, causing your face to disappear behind it. The guards pulled you to where the chairman was, the grip on your wrist increasing a little.

Minghao frowned and followed the chairman as he jogged towards the guards “What is this supposed to mean?” he asked in a harsh voice.

Minghao frowned at the sight of you, you had turned your eyes down, looking at prince Minghao's feet.

“She tried to sneak in... again.” The guard that wasn't holding you said.

The chairman sighed frustratedly “You realise that the crown prince is here? And you bring her here!?” The chairman looked around to where he and Minghao had been standing before they ran over to the guards, expecting to see Minghao still standing there. He jumped when he saw Minghao standing right beside him.

Minghao, however,  had been looking at the painting in your hand.  Not noticing the crowd of people gathering around to see what was happening.

“Your highness, I-” The chairman started,  stuttering nervously. He had clearly not expected prince Minghao to stand behind him “She… she has been trying to get in here the entire evening, despite us sending her away multiple times already.”

You tried to pull your arm out of the guard his grip, sighing as you failed to do so.

“Have you asked her why?” Minghao asked, his gaze moving from your face, to your hand, to the chairman.

The chairman stood dumbfounded “W-well… no but-”

The prince raised his hand, signaling the chairman to stop talking, before turning to you. You had stopped wriggling and looked Minghao straight into his eyes. Though looking royalty into their eyes is seen as rude, there was something about you that made him feel like you could. Something about your eyes made him feel comfortable enough to look into them and feel like he never wanted to look away.

Though you had just tried to break in to one of the most important events happening this year, you didn't at all look guilty or scared. It was as if you were oblivious to the fact that this was a completely illegal thing to do.

Minghao changed his amazed expression back to his normal, neutral expression and cleared his throat “Good evening, might I ask what you are doing here?”

Your eyes switched from Minghao’s, to the painting in your hand, to Minghao's nose, afraid to look him in the eye. But you didn't answer. You had opened your mouth to say something but closed it again once you realised you didn't know what to say. Or maybe the fact the crown prince of your country was talking to you, flustered you so much you couldn't say anything. Minghao couldn't tell.

Prince Minghao cleared his throat again before his gaze turned stern “I asked you what you were doing here.”

Your widened, scared looking eyes found his again and blinked once before turning to the painting in your hand again. You sighed before stretching your arm to give prince Minghao the painting.

Minghao frowned, had no idea what you wanted, but stretched his arm to take the painting from you anyway.

“Highness!” The chairman exclaimed “Are you sure that's such a good idea? You don't know what that is.”

Prince Minghao really had a hard time to keep himself from sighing annoyed before he turned his head to the chairman “It's a painting mister Ren. I doubt there's anything life threatening to that.”

Having turned around meant prince Minghao's arm had dropped again, he nodded at the painting “What is this?”

Your lip curled up slightly, your eyes turned to the floor “For you.”

You had an accent, as if you weren’t from Voulux. Maybe you had come from one of the other Pledis countries, Voulux was one of the two Pledis countries that spoke in a language different from the language used in the eleven other. But with those two words you had said Minghao couldn’t be sure.

Minghao rolled his eyes, sighed and took the canvas from you. With rough, big brush stripes an expressionist portrait was painted on it. A portrait of a person Minghao recognized as himself. He was painted in bright, warm colors. A crown on his head, his eyes looking to the right. It was gorgeous.

Minghao had no idea how long he stared at the painting before his eyes turned themselves to you again. Seconds, maybe minutes or hours. Never had anyone painted him, and you, a strange girl whom he didn't know, had painted him so beautifully. Out of nowhere, unexpected.

Your eyes inspected him curiously, tried to read him, hoping you could see what he thought of your present. But as a crown prince, Minghao had learned how to keep his face straight. And though he wanted to smile, scream out of happy surprise and hug you, he knew he couldn't.

He let his arm, holding the canvas, hang beside his body and frowned, looking you in your eyes “...Who are you?” he didn't ask it loudly, merely whispered it. Just for you to hear.

But just before you could introduce yourself mister Ren stepped in “Your highness, what did she give you?”

He held out his hand for Minghao to give him the painting, but Minghao pulled the canvas up to his chest so the chairman couldn't take it. He turned to the guards, completely ignoring mister Ren “Could you take her to the back please? Don’t hurt her, I'll handle this later.” Without giving you another look he turned to the chairman again, handing the painting to Yodi, the look in his eyes suggesting he couldn't show anyone “Is it time for my speech yet, Chairman?”

check notes for masterlist

#ch #seventeen #minghao #xu minghao #the8 #fanfiction #seventeen fanfiction #minghao fanfiction #minghao royal au #minghao prince #the8 fanfiction #the8 royal au #the8 prince #artist au #royal au #minghao artist au #imagine #scenario #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #seventeen prince #seventeen royal au #kpop #kpop fanfiction #kpop royal au