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astrophileous · 6 months

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ZARA MY LOVE MWAH SENDING THROUGH A REQUEST WOOOOOOO 😚😚😚

please give me spencer reid crumbs 🤲 maybe him seeing reader in a fancy dress for the first time 👀 and he’s like 😃 because she’s so pretty 🥴 and he’s been rendered speechless because oh my god that’s his girlfriend????? ARE YOU FEELING ME 😩😩

I FEEL YOU MA'AM!!! AND I GOTCHUUU DON'T WORRYYY 🫶🫶🫶 (y'all better thank avis the loml for sending in this request bcs this turned out better than I expected if I do say so myself 👀)

Warning(s): fem!reader, profanities, spencer being head over heels in love with his gf, kinda suggestive towards the end so pls minors just be mindful

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No one is laughing!"

"Right. You're saying that wasn't a snort that I just heard?"

"I just think you're being unreasonable."

"Unrea—? I'm not being unreasonable! Don't call me unreasonable!"

Spencer sighed out loud as he turned the car towards a quiet street, his eyes never straying off the road even if 90% of his attention had been domineered by your distressed voice resonating out of his speaker phone for the past fifteen minutes. Something crashed on the other end of the line, and Spencer nearly pressed his right foot all the way down on the brake pedal as he glanced worriedly at the device on the passenger's seat.

"Sweetheart? Everything okay over there?"

"Everything's fine! I'm okay, I'm okay!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm just—fuck. I bumped into some stuff. It's not a big deal."

"(Y/N)—" Spencer called out softly, "—why don't you take a deep breath for me, my love?"

"Spencer—"

"Just humor me, okay?" There was a lengthy pause before he heard you take several deep breaths through the phone. "Feel better now?"

"Maybe. A little bit. Yeah."

"Good." Spencer smiled, slowing his car down to a stop as he stared at the familiar building outside the window. "Because I'm pulling up to your place right now."

"What?!"

After a full more minute of you cursing the living daylights out of him, Spencer ended the call and grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the backseat before walking all the way up to your apartment on the third floor. The three-piece suit he donned felt stiff against his body. Nevertheless, it was the fanciest thing he owned in his closet, thus uncomfortable as he was, Spencer thought he'd endure it tonight for Rossi's sake.

It was a memorable night in the BAU's history, considering Rossi had just finished the first book he ever wrote after rejoining the team and was throwing a party to celebrate its launch. "It's a whole shindig," Rossi had announced. "Everyone's invited, so dress to impress. Don't forget to bring that lovely girl of yours, Reid."

You had only met the team once by this point—an accidental encounter that barely lasted ten minutes after you and your friends stumbled into the same restaurant where Spencer and his team just happened to be dining in—and Spencer couldn't be more ecstatic at the prospect of you finally getting to know his second family even closer. The invitation was merely an implied gesture that confirmed what Spencer already knew to be true: the team approved of you. They loved you.

Yet, as he extended the invite to you two weeks ago, Spencer was surprised to see you panic instead of the unadulterated joy that he had expected to witness when he went to deliver the news.

"Two weeks, you said? The party is in two weeks? Two weeks? I have nothing to wear!"

You had been freaking out over the party every single day since then. Upon further inspection, Spencer finally realized that this behavior stemmed from your fear of not being accepted by the team, which was illogical since Spencer had stated very clearly about how much they adored you.

"I didn't have the chance to prepare for a good first impression, Spencer. So whatever happens, everything has to be perfect for Rossi's party," you had reasoned.

Hence, Spencer could only watch you from the sideline as you ran around in a frenzy for the past couple of weeks. He listened patiently to each one of your manic ramblings and gave you reassurances whenever you needed it. Before he left for your place that night, he made sure to stop by his usual florist to purchase a big bouquet of your favorite flowers, hoping that the vibrant arrangement could offer some repose to your restlessness.

A couple of minutes later, Spencer found himself coming face to face with the view of a familiar door. His grip around the bouquet tightened as he knocked on the wood three times.

"Coming!" you exclaimed from inside the apartment.

When the door finally swung open, Spencer nearly collapsed as he felt the air being knocked completely out of his lungs.

Spencer realized, then, that in the ten months the two of you had been together, there had never been any special occasion where the two of you were required to dress to the nines. And as lovely as you always looked in Spencer's eyes, nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you standing in a luxurious dress, all dolled-up like the epitome of timeless beauty whose fairness they used to sing about back in the old days.

The material of the dress flowed and hugged your body in all the right places, giving Spencer a calculated peek to the vast skin underneath that he had mapped out countlessly in the past. The dress itself came in a color that complimented the natural gleam of your skintone. You looked radiant as you stood there with the dress and your makeup perfectly in place. Still, as stunning as you were at that moment, Spencer knew that the dress wouldn't be as captivating as it was had it been any other person wearing it instead of you.

"Spencer." The sound of his name in your enthralling voice brought Spencer back out of his stupor. "Can you wait a minute? I need to find my purse. I swear, I put it somewhere around here. And shoes! Shit. I haven't chosen what shoes to wear."

You flew around the apartment with the most anxious elegance Spencer had ever seen in a person. He wordlessly walked into the threshold and kicked the door shut behind him. You reappeared in front of Spencer barely five minutes later, holding a matching purse in your hand and standing four inches taller courtesy to the heels you were wearing.

"Okay, I'm ready!" you announced. "Spencer? Why are you looking at me like that? What, do I have something on my face? Crap, is it my lipstick?!"

Spencer stepped closer as you began rummaging through the tiny purse you were carrying. He gripped your wrist in his hand, stopping your ministrastions until you finally looked up at him.

"You look beautiful," Spencer admitted in a breathless murmur. "So gorgeous."

Without a word of warning, Spencer used his free hand to pull you closer by the waist, connecting his desperate lips with your sweet ones. You yelped against him before melting completely into his embrace, letting his tongue dominate your own as your delight erupted in a series of muffled whimpers. It felt as if hours had passed—your legs threatening to turn into jelly underneath you—when Spencer eventually pulled away, resting his forehead on top of yours as the two you tried to catch your breath.

"You have lipstick on your face." You laughed, wiping the reddish stain around Spencer's lips as your boyfriend chuckled wholeheartedly. "Not that I didn't appreciate the passionate display of affection, darling, but what was that for?"

"Nothing. I just love you so much."

"Uh-huh." You raised a pair of unimpressed eyebrows at him, your lips curving up one degree further when you saw what he was holding in his hand. "Is this for me?"

Spencer grinned as he presented the bouquet in your face. "Who else?"

You offered a quick thank you before rushing towards the kitchen where you relocated the flowers into a vase. Spencer followed closely behind, gaze never straying far from you as you pranced around the space fluidly.

"It's pretty." You hummed appreciatively as you set the vase on the kitchen peninsula. "Thank you, Spencer."

"Anything for you, sweetheart," he replied. Spencer's stare raked over your entire figure for the hundredth time in the last fifteen minutes, a twinkle in his eyes when he finally found your expectant gaze directed at him. "You know, the party venue isn't really far from here."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Spencer whispered, stealthily moving towards you as if he was a predator stalking its prey. "And the party doesn't start for another fifteen minutes anyway, so there's no reason for us to leave right away."

A familiar fire burned brighter behind your eyes with every inch of distance Spencer managed to consume. "Is that so?"

"Absolutely." He was standing in front of you now, fingers dancing up and down your arms calling for goosebumps to rise on their wake. "Besides, I don't think anyone would mind if we arrive a few minutes late, right? After all, it's not our party."

"No, it's not." You gasped when Spencer shoved your body towards him, your chest flush against his to the point where you could feel the thumping of his heart on top of yours. "Fuck, Spencer. Just kiss me."

Groaning, Spencer didn't waste a single second before he claimed your lips in a hungry kiss. Spencer's palms roamed every expanse of flesh he could reach, eager to hear you sing his praises in the form of enraptured moans and gasps that elicited a blazing flame inside his own body.

Needless to say, as much as Spencer loved seeing you in that dress, he didn't think there was any greater sight than watching it thrown haphazardly on the floor.

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cerise-on-top · 4 months

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pookie 🥹🥹🥹

your writing 🥹🥹

is so 💗💖💝💕💞💓

I love it so much 😔

could I get gaz hcs with a reader who pretyy insecure around how they look around him?? Constantly fixing their appearance and overall just wanting to look their best for him 😢

FEEL FREE NOT TO ITS PERFECTLY IFNE ☺️☺️☺️☺️

Shrimp, thank you so much for your kind words, it's incredible to hear such praise from a writer as great as you 🥹 And of course you can, you can get just about anything if you ask for it!! I was so happy when I read your request today! Was really looking forward to writing it! I'm sorry if I went a bit overboard with those HCs, I just love Gaz so dearly I couldn't help myself, I needed to get this out of my system, every single thought needed to be put to paper for Gaz because he is among my favorites! Need a man like him to buy me ice cream!! Either way, thank you for your request, sorry for rambling, and I hope these are alright!

Gaz with an Insecure!S/O

It would start out with something small: Straightening your shirt and pulling it down when your stomach was showing, patting down your hair to make sure stray strands wouldn’t ruin your looks, maybe even putting a hand before your mouth whenever you were smiling. Sure, Gaz noticed that, but at the time he thought those were just small quirks of yours, nothing to worry about. Some small mannerisms that ultimately won’t mean too much. But what was once you fixing your appearance just a little bit, turned into something much bigger. Sucking in your stomach until it pained you to do so, keeping your back straight until it felt like you were about to topple over, bearing a faux smile even as your muscles begged you to stop. Although Gaz will have asked you a few times to relax by then, his gut feeling telling him that something might be up, it was, ultimately, no use.

If you’re on the chubbier side and you decided to lose weight for him in the only way you knew how, by starving yourself, if you put on layers upon layers of make-up, effectively suffocating your skin underneath, never taking it off, or maybe you think you’re not strong enough for him and thus you’d hit the gym, taking on weights that are far beyond what you should lift, then Gaz will try to intervene immediately. At first he’ll be gentle about it, telling you that you’re perfect as you are, give you a tender and loving kiss along with it, hoping it would help. You’re so beautiful, you’re so soft inside and out, letting him rest his weary head on your stomach, you’re so gorgeous when you leave the shower, body still damp without without the only thing that would make you, as you always thought, pretty, you’re so strong, easily capable of lifting him or the heavy grocery bags with no problem. But whatever you do, don’t overdo it, please. He’ll assure you how much he loves you, how drop dead gorgeous and perfect you are in every way, more often than he used to, but the dreadful feeling that it won’t be enough still lingers.

If you’re okay with it, he’s more than happy to hug you just a bit longer, give you just a few more kisses, praise your looks just a few times more per day. As soon as your behavior turns destructive, though, that’s when he’ll pull you aside and have a heartfelt talk with you. Although he hates making something that clearly bothers you this much about him, he will tell you that it breaks his heart how you’re destroying yourself just so you could appeal to him physically. He fell in love with you not only for your looks, he fell in love with you because of your personality as well. No one could ever make his heart flutter the way you could, no one’s presence could ever soothe and excite him at the same time as yours. Regardless of what you look like, you appeal to him. To him it doesn’t matter if you’re tiny or twice his size, thin or thick, muscular or frail. Marilyn Monroe could show up at his doorstep and he’d shove her aside just so he could spend just a few more seconds with you. Gaz is usually a gentleman when it comes to you, but please don’t be too upset with him when he’s being a bit more stern than usual. He tries his best to be kind and caring, but under extreme circumstances he might be a bit more forceful on accident. He doesn’t mean any harm by it, really, but he’s just that worried about you. You’re the last person he wants to lose. Although something he wants even less is for you to lose yourself. It’s flattering you’d be willing to change yourself for him, if it’s something that would make you a happier person, then he’ll do what he can to support you, but in this case he’ll try to get you to stop.

He knows it takes time to be content with yourself, especially if you think your value lies in the validation of someone else, but he’s patient. You need to vent about your insecurities? He’ll listen to you before making sure to tear down each and every single one of your bad thoughts. Your hair is tousled? This guy will start taking a bag with him, filled with all kinds of goodies to help you. And that includes a hairbrush. He can and will brush your hair, gently taking it in his hands, combing out any and all knots. Sucking in your stomach? He’ll get you to stop. If telling you so verbally works, he’ll settle for that. Otherwise he’ll try to get you all relaxed, making you forget about it. However, he might playfight with you as well if you’re up for it so you have something else to focus on. Point is: Whatever it is you need, he’ll do it. Communicate it with him, he’s willing to try out many things. You didn’t like it when he did this, but it felt great when he did that? There’s really no shame in telling him what you prefer, quite the opposite, he’s happy when you do it. That way he knows what works and what doesn’t. And if you’re ever at a point where you can simply walk up to him and ask him to tell you how pretty you look in that new sweater, how strong you are for lifting that crate, how you just wanna be told that you’re so gorgeous and or handsome today, he’ll do it without any judgment. Granted, you likely don’t need to ask him to do so, he’ll do anything he can to hype you up, but the option is there.

Gaz will, simply put, do whatever it takes to make you realize that you’re the most aesthetically pleasing person on the planet. It’s nice to know someone else thinks you’re pretty, but it’s more effective to know such a thing yourself. As long as he can help you reach that goal he’s happy with himself. He looks forward to those days where you walk up to him and tell him how a peacock is jealous whenever you walk by. He’ll build up your confidence and watch it prosper with your own care over time.

#cod #cod x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #these are almost 1100 words #the words just fly onto the screen when I get to write about women or Gaz #I need Gaz to be real so I can build legos with him and tell him that he is among my favorites #he deserves it he's a lovely man who would treat me right #he'd treat anyone right and that hill I will die on

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sumeru-academy · 2 years

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Peonies in Bloom.

synopsis: you're a visitor hailing from sumeru, member of the royal family and student of the prestigious academy sent to sail on a private ship to inazuma as per your mother's request. during your journey, you meet faces both new and old.

character(s): ayaka, sara, ei. (separate)

warning(s): light mentions of injury / blood in sara’s part.

note(s): somewhat of a royalty au, reader’s gender isn’t really specified but i use the word “pretty” one time in Ayaka’s part, no usage of y/n.

⎯⎯mod kiki 🕰

KAMISATO AYAKA

The "not-so-childhood-friend" from your earliest years.

You'd first met her when your parents had taken you to a diplomatic meeting between the ruling families of each nation, and since that occurrence, the two of you had been exchanging letters ever since.

Since she lived overseas in a differing nation, you hardly ever got to see her in person—save for the few times you'd beg your parents to let you come to their business trips in Inazuma.

Upon hearing of your trip, Ayaka immediately offered you a place to stay at her estate. Which you repeatedly try to deny as to not cause her any trouble, but she was more than willing to lend you a spare room. You eventually gave into her demands and allowed her to house you for an unspecified amount of time.

With how much communicating you have to do with both the people of Inazuma and your family back home there is almost no time for you to be free with Ayaka at all. You see it in the way her gaze lingers for just a second too long, or how the hand that isn't holding up her fan moves ever so slightly as if she wants to reach out to you. It doesn't take a genius to see how much she actually misses your presence—and quite frankly, you miss her much more than you would ever allow yourself to admit.

Once you're finally able to breathe easy for the first time since arrival, you find the courage to invite Ayaka to a friendly outing. Back to the outskirts of the city behind the forest—the same spot the two of you would always sneak off two when you were kids. You're the first one to break the silence, curled up and leaning on your knees while you meet her gaze with warm eyes. "You know, I always used to think you looked pretty under the blue lights."

She says nothing in response for quite some time and instead frantically turns away, lightly fanning herself to calm her warming cheeks. You're ready to apologize for the comment when she suddenly turns back to face you with lowered eyes. Between the gently blowing leaves, you can almost make out a silent "you're very pretty too."

Maybe, just maybe, you would ask her to attend the upcoming festival with you.

KUJOU SARA

The esteemed war general working directly under the Queen.

You first come face to face with her when you're meeting the queen for the first time. She greets you with a hostile glare, and you have just enough confidence in yourself to meet her gaze and return the sentiment.

And thus began the most infuriating relationship you have ever had with anyone in your entire life. Somehow, by some miracle, or rather, curse, Sara was always around every time you didn't want to see her. If you didn't know any better, you would assume she was purposefully following you around to make your life miserable. You can't remember a single time you had a serious conversation with her.

But one day, you found yourself getting cornered by a gang of bandits. Ready to fend them off, you reached for the dagger hidden in your sleeve—kept safe specifically for moments like these. As it turns out, the very group of bandits were part of a gang suspected of thievery from the royal court. And as always, Sara was on the case like a watchdog.

"I could've handled them myself," you scowled and slid down the brick walls, leaning against the cool stone, "I don't need you to come save me every time there's a threat." You half-expected her to quip back with a sarcastic response—or maybe even something to patronize you. But instead Sara holds her tongue and leans down to inspect you further.

She's uncomfortably close, and if it weren't for the wall behind you, you would've backed away as far as you could, muttering something stupid like "Are you obsessed with me or something?"

"You're injured." Is all she says, and it isn't a lie. One look at your disheveled state is enough to tell all it needs. There's a light bruise forming on the underside of your left arm, and patches of red seep through your torn clothes. Sara doesn't ask what happened before she arrived. She only picks you up and carefully carries you on her back. In your hazy state of mind you can hear the words "taking" and "infirmary."

You think—before you dip into the realm of slumber—that when she isn't being unbearably demanding, Sara can be quite likeable.

RAIDEN EI

Her Royal Excellency. She was the reason you were sent away on this journey in the first place, and she was most definitely the most difficult person. Both to get to and to get through to.

There was one thing for certain: the endless paintings scattered throughout Inazuma did not overestimate her beauty. The first time you actually had a moment to talk with her, you could've sworn your heart leaped right out of your chest.

The two of you went on a stroll in her private garden. You were the one to make most of the conversation. Ei, on the other hand, had never once looked in your direction nor did she answer any of your light questions—only giving light hums and short nods in response. With a heavy sigh, you decided you would give up on trying to further this endeavor any further, and quietly excused yourself to rejoin back into the rest of the party. But not before she cleared her throat, catching your attention one last time.

"This was a pleasant experience," she muses, "I hope we can talk like this again in the near future."

Since then, you learn things about her that you wouldn't have ever guessed. You fill the air with mindless chatter and in return she has the company that she hasn't experienced in years. It's a refreshing scene from the both of you, and despite nearly all of your conversations being one-sided thus far, one day, she eventually tells you the story of her elder sister.

This time it's you who is silent as she solemnly tells her tale from start to end. The beginning of grief to the start of an era of stagnancy—and finally, to a moment of change. The air is still, and before you could convince yourself it was a horrible idea, you reach over and embrace Ei into a loose hug.

When the two of you part, she smiles at you for the first time. It's almost enough to make you feel guilty. Almost.

In just the span of a few months, the next moment of intimacy the two of you have will be your last.

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sorrows-of-young-werther-daily · 2 years

Text

June 16

"Why do I not write to you?" You lay claim to learning, and ask such a question. You should have guessed that I am well—that is to say—in a word, I have made an acquaintance who has won my heart: I have—I know not.

To give you a regular account of the manner in which I have become acquainted with the most amiable of women would be a difficult task. I am a happy and contented mortal, but a poor historian.

An angel! Nonsense! Everybody so describes his mistress; and yet I find it impossible to tell you how perfect she is, or why she is so perfect: suffice it to say she has captivated all my senses.

So much simplicity with so much understanding—so mild, and yet so resolute—a mind so placid, and a life so active.

But all this is ugly balderdash, which expresses not a single character nor feature. Some other time—but no, not some other time, now, this very instant, will I tell you all about it. Now or never. Well, between ourselves, since I commenced my letter, I have been three times on the point of throwing down my pen, of ordering my horse, and riding out. And yet I vowed this morning that I would not ride to-day, and yet every moment I am rushing to the window to see how high the sun is.

I could not restrain myself—go to her I must. I have just returned, Wilhelm; and whilst I am taking supper I will write to you. What a delight it was for my soul to see her in the midst of her dear, beautiful children,—eight brothers and sisters!

But, if I proceed thus, you will be no wiser at the end of my letter than you were at the beginning. Attend, then, and I will compel myself to give you the details.

I mentioned to you the other day that I had become acquainted with S—, the district judge, and that he had invited me to go and visit him in his retirement, or rather in his little kingdom. But I neglected going, and perhaps should never have gone, if chance had not discovered to me the treasure which lay concealed in that retired spot. Some of our young people had proposed giving a ball in the country, at which I consented to be present. I offered my hand for the evening to a pretty and agreeable, but rather commonplace, sort of girl from the immediate neighbourhood; and it was agreed that I should engage a carriage, and call upon Charlotte, with my partner and her aunt, to convey them to the ball. My companion informed me, as we drove along through the park to the hunting-lodge, that I should make the acquaintance of a very charming young lady. "Take care," added the aunt, "that you do not lose your heart." "Why?" said I. "Because she is already engaged to a very worthy man," she replied, "who is gone to settle his affairs upon the death of his father, and will succeed to a very considerable inheritance." This information possessed no interest for me. When we arrived at the gate, the sun was setting behind the tops of the mountains. The atmosphere was heavy; and the ladies expressed their fears of an approaching storm, as masses of low black clouds were gathering in the horizon. I relieved their anxieties by pretending to be weather-wise, although I myself had some apprehensions lest our pleasure should be interrupted.

I alighted; and a maid came to the door, and requested us to wait a moment for her mistress. I walked across the court to a well-built house, and, ascending the flight of steps in front, opened the door, and saw before me the most charming spectacle I had ever witnessed. Six children, from eleven to two years old, were running about the hall, and surrounding a lady of middle height, with a lovely figure, dressed in a robe of simple white, trimmed with pink ribbons. She was holding a rye loaf in her hand, and was cutting slices for the little ones all around, in proportion to their age and appetite. She performed her task in a graceful and affectionate manner; each claimant awaiting his turn with outstretched hands, and boisterously shouting his thanks. Some of them ran away at once, to enjoy their evening meal; whilst others, of a gentler disposition, retired to the courtyard to see the strangers, and to survey the carriage in which their Charlotte was to drive away. "Pray forgive me for giving you the trouble to come for me, and for keeping the ladies waiting: but dressing, and arranging some household duties before I leave, had made me forget my children's supper; and they do not like to take it from any one but me." I uttered some indifferent compliment: but my whole soul was absorbed by her air, her voice, her manner; and I had scarcely recovered myself when she ran into her room to fetch her gloves and fan. The young ones threw inquiring glances at me from a distance; whilst I approached the youngest, a most delicious little creature. He drew back; and Charlotte, entering at the very moment, said, "Louis, shake hands with your cousin." The little fellow obeyed willingly; and I could not resist giving him a hearty kiss, notwithstanding his rather dirty face. "Cousin," said I to Charlotte, as I handed her down, "do you think I deserve the happiness of being related to you?" She replied, with a ready smile, "Oh! I have such a number of cousins, that I should be sorry if you were the most undeserving of them." In taking leave, she desired her next sister, Sophy, a girl about eleven years old, to take great care of the children, and to say good-bye to papa for her when he came home from his ride. She enjoined to the little ones to obey their sister Sophy as they would herself, upon which some promised that they would; but a little fair-haired girl, about six years old, looked discontented, and said, "But Sophy is not you, Charlotte; and we like you best." The two eldest boys had clambered up the carriage; and, at my request, she permitted them to accompany us a little way through the forest, upon their promising to sit very still, and hold fast.

We were hardly seated, and the ladies had scarcely exchanged compliments, making the usual remarks upon each other's dress, and upon the company they expected to meet, when Charlotte stopped the carriage, and made her brothers get down. They insisted upon kissing her hands once more; which the eldest did with all the tenderness of a youth of fifteen, but the other in a lighter and more careless manner. She desired them again to give her love to the children, and we drove off.

The aunt inquired of Charlotte whether she had finished the book she had last sent her. "No," said Charlotte; "I did not like it: you can have it again. And the one before was not much better." I was surprised, upon asking the title, to hear that it was ____. (We feel obliged to suppress the passage in the letter, to prevent any one from feeling aggrieved; although no author need pay much attention to the opinion of a mere girl, or that of an unsteady young man.)

I found penetration and character in everything she said: every expression seemed to brighten her features with new charms,—with new rays of genius,—which unfolded by degrees, as she felt herself understood.

"When I was younger," she observed, "I loved nothing so much as romances. Nothing could equal my delight when, on some holiday, I could settle down quietly in a corner, and enter with my whole heart and soul into the joys or sorrows of some fictitious Leonora. I do not deny that they even possess some charms for me yet. But I read so seldom, that I prefer books suited exactly to my taste. And I like those authors best whose scenes describe my own situation in life,—and the friends who are about me, whose stories touch me with interest, from resembling my own homely existence,—which, without being absolutely paradise, is, on the whole, a source of indescribable happiness."

I endeavoured to conceal the emotion which these words occasioned, but it was of slight avail; for, when she had expressed so truly her opinion of "The Vicar of Wakefield," and of other works, the names of which I omit (Though the names are omitted, yet the authors mentioned deserve Charlotte's approbation, and will feel it in their hearts when they read this passage. It concerns no other person.), I could no longer contain myself, but gave full utterance to what I thought of it: and it was not until Charlotte had addressed herself to the two other ladies, that I remembered their presence, and observed them sitting mute with astonishment. The aunt looked at me several times with an air of raillery, which, however, I did not at all mind.

We talked of the pleasures of dancing. "If it is a fault to love it," said Charlotte, "I am ready to confess that I prize it above all other amusements. If anything disturbs me, I go to the piano, play an air to which I have danced, and all goes right again directly."

You, who know me, can fancy how steadfastly I gazed upon her rich dark eyes during these remarks, how my very soul gloated over her warm lips and fresh, glowing cheeks, how I became quite lost in the delightful meaning of her words, so much so, that I scarcely heard the actual expressions. In short, I alighted from the carriage like a person in a dream, and was so lost to the dim world around me, that I scarcely heard the music which resounded from the illuminated ballroom.

The two Messrs. Andran and a certain N. N. (I cannot trouble myself with the names), who were the aunt's and Charlotte's partners, received us at the carriage-door, and took possession of their ladies, whilst I followed with mine.

We commenced with a minuet. I led out one lady after another, and precisely those who were the most disagreeable could not bring themselves to leave off. Charlotte and her partner began an English country dance, and you must imagine my delight when it was their turn to dance the figure with us. You should see Charlotte dance. She dances with her whole heart and soul: her figure is all harmony, elegance, and grace, as if she were conscious of nothing else, and had no other thought or feeling; and, doubtless, for the moment, every other sensation is extinct.

She was engaged for the second country dance, but promised me the third, and assured me, with the most agreeable freedom, that she was very fond of waltzing. "It is the custom here," she said, "for the previous partners to waltz together; but my partner is an indifferent waltzer, and will feel delighted if I save him the trouble. Your partner is not allowed to waltz, and, indeed, is equally incapable: but I observed during the country dance that you waltz well; so, if you will waltz with me, I beg you would propose it to my partner, and I will propose it to yours." We agreed, and it was arranged that our partners should mutually entertain each other.

We set off, and, at first, delighted ourselves with the usual graceful motions of the arms. With what grace, with what ease, she moved! When the waltz commenced, and the dancers whirled around each other in the giddy maze, there was some confusion, owing to the incapacity of some of the dancers. We judiciously remained still, allowing the others to weary themselves; and, when the awkward dancers had withdrawn, we joined in, and kept it up famously together with one other couple,—Andran and his partner. Never did I dance more lightly. I felt myself more than mortal, holding this loveliest of creatures in my arms, flying, with her as rapidly as the wind, till I lost sight of every other object; and O Wilhelm, I vowed at that moment, that a maiden whom I loved, or for whom I felt the slightest attachment, never, never should waltz with any one else but with me, if I went to perdition for it!—you will understand this.

We took a few turns in the room to recover our breath. Charlotte sat down, and felt refreshed by partaking of some oranges which I had had secured,—the only ones that had been left; but at every slice which, from politeness, she offered to her neighbours, I felt as though a dagger went through my heart.

We were the second couple in the third country dance. As we were going down (and Heaven knows with what ecstasy I gazed at her arms and eyes, beaming with the sweetest feeling of pure and genuine enjoyment), we passed a lady whom I had noticed for her charming expression of countenance; although she was no longer young. She looked at Charlotte with a smile, then, holding up her finger in a threatening attitude, repeated twice in a very significant tone of voice the name of "Albert."

"Who is Albert," said I to Charlotte, "if it is not impertinent to ask?" She was about to answer, when we were obliged to separate, in order to execute a figure in the dance; and, as we crossed over again in front of each other, I perceived she looked somewhat pensive. "Why need I conceal it from you?" she said, as she gave me her hand for the promenade. "Albert is a worthy man, to whom I am engaged." Now, there was nothing new to me in this (for the girls had told me of it on the way); but it was so far new that I had not thought of it in connection with her whom, in so short a time, I had learned to prize so highly. Enough, I became confused, got out in the figure, and occasioned general confusion; so that it required all Charlotte's presence of mind to set me right by pulling and pushing me into my proper place.

The dance was not yet finished when the lightning which had for some time been seen in the horizon, and which I had asserted to proceed entirely from heat, grew more violent; and the thunder was heard above the music. When any distress or terror surprises us in the midst of our amusements, it naturally makes a deeper impression than at other times, either because the contrast makes us more keenly susceptible, or rather perhaps because our senses are then more open to impressions, and the shock is consequently stronger. To this cause I must ascribe the fright and shrieks of the ladies. One sagaciously sat down in a corner with her back to the window, and held her fingers to her ears; a second knelt down before her, and hid her face in her lap; a third threw herself between them, and embraced her sister with a thousand tears; some insisted on going home; others, unconscious of their actions, wanted sufficient presence of mind to repress the impertinence of their young partners, who sought to direct to themselves those sighs which the lips of our agitated beauties intended for heaven. Some of the gentlemen had gone down-stairs to smoke a quiet cigar, and the rest of the company gladly embraced a happy suggestion of the hostess to retire into another room which was provided with shutters and curtains. We had hardly got there, when Charlotte placed the chairs in a circle; and, when the company had sat down in compliance with her request, she forthwith proposed a round game.

I noticed some of the company prepare their mouths and draw themselves up at the prospect of some agreeable forfeit. "Let us play at counting," said Charlotte. "Now, pay attention: I shall go round the circle from right to left; and each person is to count, one after the other, the number that comes to him, and must count fast; whoever stops or mistakes is to have a box on the ear, and so on, till we have counted a thousand." It was delightful to see the fun. She went round the circle with upraised arm. "One," said the first; "two," the second; "three," the third; and so on, till Charlotte went faster and faster. One made a mistake, instantly a box on the ear; and, amid the laughter that ensued, came another box; and so on, faster and faster. I myself came in for two. I fancied they were harder than the rest, and felt quite delighted. A general laughter and confusion put an end to the game long before we had counted as far as a thousand. The party broke up into little separate knots: the storm had ceased, and I followed Charlotte into the ballroom. On the way she said, "The game banished their fears of the storm." I could make no reply. "I myself," she continued, "was as much frightened as any of them; but by affecting courage, to keep up the spirits of the others, I forgot my apprehensions." We went to the window. It was still thundering at a distance: a soft rain was pouring down over the country, and filled the air around us with delicious odours. Charlotte leaned forward on her arm; her eyes wandered over the scene; she raised them to the sky, and then turned them upon me; they were moistened with tears; she placed her hand on mine and said, "Klopstock!" at once I remembered the magnificent ode which was in her thoughts: I felt oppressed with the weight of my sensations, and sank under them. It was more than I could bear. I bent over her hand, kissed it in a stream of delicious tears, and again looked up to her eyes. Divine Klopstock! why didst thou not see thy apotheosis in those eyes? And thy name so often profaned, would that I never heard it repeated!

#the sorrows of young werther daily #june 16

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adorethedistance · 3 years

Text

City Slicker, Cowboyfriend - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, nerves, mentions of covid.

Words: 2163

Summary: You’re starting to have doubts about moving all the way to Norman until a shopping trip to Ikea turns into the meet-cute you’ve been waiting for.

A/n: This isn’t a request or one of my Valentines day fics, this is just something that I have had stuck in my head ever since Owen posted this on IG and bc I’m facing total writers block with my other pieces I cranked this one out in a few hours to get the ball rolling again. Hopefully. Enjoy this totally unproofed, fluffy madness!! (Because who doesn’t need more Owen content in their life?)

There are perks to moving and one of them is undoubtedly: shopping. For furniture, home decor, kitchen utensils, whatever! Granted, shopping alone can be tedious and, for some, like pulling teeth, thus, I’ve enlisted the help of my best friends Leila and Chelsea. I didn’t even have to bribe them to come because everyone loves getting lost in Ikea. It’s one of the best things about the human experience.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been in an Ikea,” Leila says to no one in particular as we walk through the onslaught of staged bedrooms.

“What?! Are you telling me you don’t get meatballs and lawn chairs on a weekly basis?” My exaggeration makes Leila laugh as she steps into one of the display kitchens. Looking between me and Chelsea she asks,

“What would you do if I turned the handle then a jet of water sprayed out?”

“Die, I guess.”

The three of us continue through the faux house displays and past the mattresses despite Leila’s urge to jump on every single one. As we walk through the section of different lighting features, I sigh with a frown as I think about college. I changed my bachelor’s to an associate’s so I could graduate in two years. Chelsea’s parents moved out here at the end of our senior year in high school, and she moved with them to study in Norman. Leila in turn went to Arizona for an athletic physical therapy gig, leaving me to face college alone in L.A.. In the two years the three of us were apart, we missed each other more and more, and after determining which of the three states we lived in was cheapest, we packed up and headed East. Covid kind of delayed our plans. But after a few months, I picked Leila up from Arizona and together we chased open job opportunities into Norman, Oklahoma. The three of us found an apartment space to live in together and thus, we ended up in Ikea on this fine Sunday afternoon.

Snapping back into reality I see Leila standing directly under a light that’s hanging very low from the ceiling. Once standing directly underneath it, she pulls down her mask and opens her mouth, rising to her toes to eat the fixture.

“Leila, don’t you dare fellate that light bulb! You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

I swear I’m practically their mom when it comes to behaving in public. Figuring they can’t hurt themselves in the college dorm section, I lead them quickly through it and into the giant furniture warehouse section. On the far wall, I see a large poster of a couple smiling brightly behind Chelsea, but I don’t bother to read the text. Leila and I spot the poster at the same time, and the imagery jogs her memory.

“Chelsea, how’s Hunter? Haven’t heard from him slash about him in like a week,” she asks about Chelsea’s boyfriend of a year.

“Oh, yeah, he tore a ligament in his wrist.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I guess he moved it wrong or something and put too much stress on the area that it just tore. He was moving hay bales into the horse stables.”

“As opposed to the chicken stables,” Leila judges under her breath, which makes me snicker as a result.

“I still can’t believe you’re dating a literal cowboy,” I interject, “Like, I know we’re in Oklahoma, and he’s from Tennessee, but we saw Texas on the way out here and that’s cowboy country. Norman seems more...” I trail off in search of delicate phrasing.

“Just barely marry your cousin territory, but still downing chewing tobacco whilst driving a lifted truck?” Leila hits the nail squarely on the head.

“Yeah, that sounds about right-” Before I can continue giving my thoughts on Norman, I cut myself off at the sound of laughter behind me.

“Sorry. We weren’t trying to eavesdrop, that was just really funny.” When I turn around, I see a guy roughly our age dressed in all black with bleach-blonde hair, speaking through light, broken laughter.

“No worries,” I dismiss the apology as we pass by one another, and out from the dressers section. The three of us continue into the different sections, and come to a stop once I see we’re exactly where we need to be: dining room shit!

“Cowboy boyfriends aside- oh my gosh: cowboy boyfriends. Cowboyfriends,” I say getting lost in my new terminology. Both of my friends share a mix of laughter and gasps and my ingeniousness. “Anyway. Cowboyfriends aside, how is Avery?” I ask Leila who begins blushing madly.

“She’s really good. We were just making plans for our three year anniversary, which reminds me to tell y’all I’m flying back to Phoenix to surprise her.”

“Awwww,” I nearly tear up and the sweet image of Leila and her girlfriend reuniting, “Y’all are so cute. Both of you and your partners. You know, being the only single friend in this group has made life suck a lot. Y’all are so happy and in love and not dead inside. Honestly? Get fucked both of you.” Despite my harsh words, the three of us break into a lighthearted conglomerate of laughter.

“We’ll find you someone… eventually.” Leila pretends she also can’t hear the last part of her sentence despite being the one saying it.

“I know, but I don’t think it’s in the cards for me to find love in Norman. I don’t need a cowboyfriend, and we’re not gonna find a true city slicker here either.”

When I finish my statement, I see our blonde friend seems to have followed us. I observe he comes to a stop in front of another guy in a flannel with a shopping cart. The way they jump into conversation with one another parallels the animated body language Leila, Chelsey, and I share. I continue to watch their exchange as Chelsea speaks up.

“Maybe you need someone right down the middle.”

“Yeah, like a guy who drives a truck but uses it to transport Ikea furniture instead of a whole ass tree that he’ll carve into a chair.” A small laugh escapes my lips, at both Leila’s statement, and the scene ahead of Blondie pretending to strangle his friend over something. I’m snapped out of my nosy yet endeared stare as a third guy appears. He’s a sandy blonde with billowing locks tucked under a trucker hat. And he came from behind me and my two friends to place something in their cart which keeps his back toward me. When he turns back around, my mind goes blank. Any thoughts of shopping for dining room chairs has left my mind. He is wearing a face mask, but he has such nice eyes that he could have a giraffe snout under the mask for all I care. I see him look up from the shelves, directly into my eyes. We stay locked for a moment before he breaks away and turns to his friends. I slowly turn to my friends too who are both giving me the exact same look of excitement and conspiracy.

“He’s really cute,” I sigh out with a laugh, swooning much louder than I’d have preferred.

“He has a face mask on,” Leila points out, her expression dropping from excited to cynical.

“Still! I can just tell.”

“Girl, what are you doing? Talk to him!” Chelsea whisper-shrieks.

“Shhh, I cannot take you anywhere!”

Glancing back at the handsome stranger, we connect eyes once more and I feel my face heat furiously as I realize he was already looking at me. I’m the first to break; I consult my friends for the best course of action and as I’m turned 180 to face them, Chelsea starts pretending to hyperventilate excitedly. Leila looks over my shoulder for me, discreetly surveying the other trio in the dining chairs aisle.

“Don’t look now, but he’s talking to his friends and looking between them and you.” I can hear in her voice she’s trying her best not to smile despite wearing a face mask.

“Should I give him my number?”

“Yes!”

“What are you waiting for?”

“I’m nervous! What if he’s gay?”

“Will you just get over there? I promise you a gay man would not be wearing what he’s wearing right now. Maybe a lesbian,” Leila adds for good measure.

“You guys are freaking me out, I need you to leave so I know you’re not judging my flirting.” I shoo my best friends out of the aisle as inconspicuous as possible. Kinda wish blondie would’ve done the same because when I turn back around, the other trio hasn’t moved and the only one looking at me is the one in all black. He quickly averts his eyes though and I take one last deep breath before walking over to the stranger. I tilt my chin up ever so slightly to fake a sense of confidence that I unmistakably don’t have right now.

“Hey.” Really, Y/n? Hey??

“Hey,” he greets back breathily. Why is he nervous? I’m the one who gets to be nervous! Man, he’s really cute. I can’t fuck this one up. I’m not doing so stellar right now. Perhaps you should say something else, dipshit?

“Uhm,” I should’ve scripted this. “I just wanted to say that-” You’ve got this. Don’t be a bummer. “I-uh, I think you’re really cute and I was wondering if I could give you my number?” My speech is slow, each word deliberate in spite of the fact that I feel like I’m having an out of body experience right now. I’m not the one in control of the words that are coming out of my mouth.

Upon realizing why I walked over, blondie’s friends take the question as a sign to leave and less than inconspicuously back away from the two of us. Trucker hat spares them one last glance over his left shoulder and judging by the look flannel gives him, they were definitely talking about me in their team huddle.

“Uh, yeah. I was gonna ask for your instagram- if you have one, that is.”

“I’m cool with both.” The two of us reach for our phones and unlock them with anxious hands. I move to hand him my phone with instagram open, and he trades me for his which has a new contact open. I type my name and put my favorite heart emoji next to it after triple checking the number is correct. Wow, you’re just so ballsy today, Y/n!!!!! I give him back the phone, scanning the instagram account he’s just opened and followed for me. I hear him exhale a little harder as a small laugh and can only imagine it’s from the stupid heart emoji.

“Owen,” I say in a hushed, endeared voice, fully not intending to say it out loud. “You have a million followers?! Oh, you’re an actor. OH… You’re an actor.” I really don’t need to be speaking my entire thought process right now in the middle of this Ikea. Exhaling a small laugh of my own, I see we already have a small bunch of mutuals, one of which is… Chelsea??? Looking up from my phone I turn around to see Chelsea and Leila watching the interaction from around the corner of one of the industrial shelves.

In the flurry of scattered likes, I see him find my account and follow me back. I accept the request, nervous of what he thinks of me without a face mask on. What do I think of him without a face mask on? Going back to his account, seeing his entire face is even better than just his eyes. I was right, Leila: he is cute.

“You’re really pretty,” I hear him almost sigh as he combs through the grid of my account. The comment makes my heart beat all the much faster and I finally look upward to get a glimpse of Owen in the flesh. Still as beautiful as the last time I checked!

Sparing a quick glance over my shoulder, he looks back down at me and laughs,

“I think your friends got tired of waiting.”

“I think yours did, too.” The other members of our trios come back into the aisle we had kicked them from more or less two minutes ago. We connect eyes once more and stare longingly, wordlessly at one another, so lost in each other’s beauty our friends have to break up the staring contest of infatuation.

“Y/n?” I hear Leila behind me.

“Uh, well, I have to get back to chair shopping, but- text me later?”

“For sure.”

“For sure,” I mimic his voice.

“Guess I’ll see you later. Y/n.”

“Yeah.” And with that, we’re pulled apart by our respective best friends, through the vast expanse of the Norman Ikea.

“What was that?” Chelsea asks, excitedly linking arms with me.

“I don’t know I- Wait, you have some explaining to do!”

***

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej @warmnesss0ul @lilyjoyner

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elfy-elf-imagines · 3 years

Text

Begin Again | Thranduil

Pairing: Thranduil x Elf!Reader

Genre: Fluffy new beginnings

Warnings: ---

Words: ~2k

Note: If you’d like to be added to a tag list for any of my works, there’s a link on my page 💕 Also, I’m big dummy and lost the original request, so I couldn’t remember what all you wanted in this one-shot. So requester, whoever you are, I’m so sorry! And if you’d like another part to expand on your full request, please let me know!

It’s strange.

You’re whole life, you’ve always heard about how horrible it is for an elf to lose the one they love. It’s been described as feeling as though you’ve been ripped into two pieces, forced to live on without your second half. You’ve heard it feels like tiny needles stabbing into your heart until you can’t feel anything but a stifling anguish that seeps into your bones, poisoning your body from within until you eventually fade away.

Yet you feel none of that. You feel nothing at all, like a soul wandering aimlessly for the rest of eternity, cursed with never finding a purpose or reason to stick around. But being forced to endure, none-the-less. You can sail, as an elf that’s your right, and perhaps you would find peace, wrapped in the warm embrace of Valinor as you forget all your fears and pain.

But you don’t want to be happy, because being happy means you forget, and you're not ready to forget your beloved yet.

The forest floor beneath you is damp from the rain that blessed Eryn Galen a few days ago. The mud sinks in between your toes as you nearly melt into the soft ground. The forest around you is lush and green, wrapping you in its warm embrace that allows for a moment of respite from your thoughts.

The forest is empty, only the gentle sway of the trees and emerald leaves falling to the ground your company. You stare up at the sky that peaks through the canopy of leaves, the stars are out tonight and they burn brighter than you’ve ever seen them. And you wished to climb to the tops of the trees if only to feel the soft glow of moonlight on your skin.

But that would be a foolish thing to do, a whimsy only a child would fulfill. So you simply stand in the clearing, selfishly hoarding the only spot you’ve discovered that the sky is visible.

You thought yourself alone, something you covet more often than not.

And yet.

“Forgive me, I did not realize this spot was currently occupied,” a baritone voice sounds behind you.

Your heart pounds against your chest, the owner of the voice easily recognizable through your deep daydreams. Whirling around quicker than you’ve ever moved, you see King Thranduil standing at the edge of the clearing. He’s lacking the usual extravagant attire he usually dons, instead opting for a slightly more casual outfit. But he still wears clothes that could’ve been woven from silver and gold, the cloth glittering in the dim light.

“My king,” you say, immediately bowing your head down in respect, thoroughly inspecting your dirtied feet. “I will take my leave.”

“There is no need, it was I who interrupted you,” he moves further into the clearing and closer to you. His movements are smooth like a cat, his icy blue eyes lazily focusing on you.

“Yet you are the king,” you reply, voice hardly above a whisper.

King Thranduil is an intimidating figure, anyone within five feet of him would agree. Not in the way that lady Galadriel of Lothlorien is - her power so great you can’t help but feel suffocated, yet it is her kind smile that soothes even the most skittish. Lord Elrond carries himself with a warm presence, like a father he is kind and caring, but stern as well.

No, King Thranduil carries a sense of tragedy with him that can’t be masked by his cold eyes or looming figure. He is the shining example of how horrible things could get for an elf when their other half passes. So far gone is he, they whisper, that not even his son can pull him from his melancholy.

“Then as king, I order you to stay. It would be nice to have some company,” he responds, leaving no room for argument. So you nod your head in agreeance, but keep your head lowered, tracing every speck of mud covering your toes.

“Would you not even look at your monarch?” he asks, but his voice isn’t laced with anger or malice and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think there’s a hint of humor in it.

“I apologize, My King,” you say, lifting your head to meet his gaze. Your eyes meet his and for a second, you jolt, a sensation filling your body, something you haven’t felt in years.

“I have never seen you before. How have I never seen you?” he questions, thick brows furrowing in frustration and confusion, but his eyes remain locked on you, as do yours.

“Y/N, My King. I just arrived here a few moons ago from the Lorien,” you respond. He says nothing for a few moments, keeping his intense gaze locked on you. And for a brief second, you swear that he could read each and every thought that passes your brain, that’s he seen every memory you have.

“Well then, allow me to formally welcome you to Eryn Galen, Lady Y/N. Tell me how have you found my kingdom, thus far?” he asks, sweeping his arm out in a grand gesture as he welcomes you.

“It is very beautiful, My King. The trees are so tall and the leaves so green,” you say, glancing up towards the sky, enraptured by the emerald canopy above you.

“Do they not have trees this tall in the Lorien? I was under the impression their forest was quite beautiful,” he replies, sharp eyes locked on you.

“They do but not quite like here. Do not misunderstand me, the Lorien possesses great beauty, the mallorn tree is magnificent to look upon, but Eryn Galen offers a different beauty. I find myself in great need of change these days, it would seem.”

“Perhaps one day you could humor me and tell me of what would need to warrant such a drastic change?” You turn to look at him, meeting his steely gaze, and he raises a single eyebrow at you. However before you can open your mouth to speak, he turns and leaves. Leaving you behind in the small clearing, and for a moment, your heart starts fluttering in a way it hasn’t in a long time.

And you turn back around, watching the leaves dance through the sky, free from the confining grasp of the branches. A small smile rests on your face, losing yourself in daydreams you never thought you’d see again.

“Lady Y/N, how lovely of you to join me,” King Thranduil's voice is crisp and clear, perfectly projecting across the large room. He sits languidly at a chair, carved from wood with delicate engraving dancing on the tops of them. A glass of wine in one hand and the other slung over the top of his chair, he is the picture of ease.

“It is my pleasure to join you, My King,” you reply, lowering your gaze to the floor once he meets yours. With slow and tentative steps, you move towards the open space to his right, where a glass of wine already poured. Your heart is racing, sweat building up in the palms of your hands as you open and close them. What feels like a lifetime later, you reach the chair, a guard so still he could’ve been a statue, pulling it out for you as you sit in it.

“Thank you,” you quietly say as the guard pushes your chair forward.

“Please, leave us” Thranduil’s voice is commanding and firm, not allowing any room for questions he does not wish to answer. Silently and quickly, every guard in the room filters out. And as their light footsteps disappear, you and Thranduil are left in the room...alone.

A small burst of courage surges through you, your gaze leaving the fine china it was tracing over and over again to meet his gaze. His eyes are just as icy blue as you remember, but somehow they seem softer than they had been in the forest. Or perhaps the light is playing tricks on you.

Everyone knows that elves only truly love once.

Your mouth is dry, nerves suddenly overtaking you. What are you supposed to say; to do? You’ve never spent much time in the presence of royalty, often preferring to stay in the shadows, content with a simple life. Yet fate seems to have other plans for you. Or is this just simply Thranduil, and the gods have nothing to do with his intentions - whatever they may be?

“Do not be so nervous. Please, drink. The food will be ready momentarily,” Thranduil says, motioning towards you with a wine goblet in hand. You nod, still silent as ever.

With a shaky, damp hand, you reach towards your wine goblet, grasping the cold metal in your warm hands. Taking a deep breath, you pick it up, bringing it towards your lips. The wine is smooth as it pours down your throat, cool and soothing to the dessert inside your mouth. It’s slightly sweet, not at all holding the bitter aftertaste the wine of Man possesses.

You set the glass down, turning your attention to Thranduil. He watches you with sharp eyes, an expectant look on his face.

“It is very good, Your Grace,” you mutter, and in exchange for speaking so quietly, you manage to keep your voice steady.

“Excellent.”

You smile, and it’s all nerves and anxiety, closely resembling a grimace rather than a beaming grin. Your heart is fierce against your chest, and you fear in that moment he will hear it. But if he does, he doesn’t comment on it.

“If I may be so bold, Your Grace, might I enquire as to why you’ve called me here?” Your voice is louder this time, but there’s a slight waver towards the end, betraying everything you feel.

He’s silent for a moment as if he’s gathering his thoughts, figuring out a way to deliver whatever is running in his mind. You nearly crack, the apology for overstepping your boundaries on the tip of your tongue when he finally speaks.

"Am I not allowed to simply get to know my subjects?" Thranduil asks, a sly smirk resting on his lips. He brings the goblet of wine to his lips, slowly sipping it. He lowers it slightly so that it rests just below his chin.

"Of course, but I suppose I'm just curious as to why you've invited me to a private meal with you. Am I correct to assume you don't do this with every one of your subjects?" you say, your eyes wide like a doe, with hands in your lap. Your fingers intertwine with each other, a way to distract you from the anxiety in you.

Thranduil continues to watch you, an unreadable expression in his ocean eyes. He inhales deeply, leaning farther back into his chair. After a few moments of silence, he opens his mouth.

“I find myself wanting to get to know you better. I find you intriguing.” Your mind turns blank, all sense and reason leaving it. For a moment you don’t believe you’ve heard him correctly, not grasping that a king would be so curious about you.

“I do not understand, what about me is so interesting? We’ve only met once, hardly having a full conversation,” you say. Your voice is firmer than before, drowning with disbelief.

“Then it would seem you’ve made an impression.”

You open your mouth, and then promptly close it, not sure how to proceed. Your heart is fluttering, though due to anxiety. Not this is something… different, a type of nervousness, but not due to fear. A light feeling that also leaves you light with giddiness and not weighed down by dread.

But it can’t be.

Elves only love once. Yet the mantra you’ve repeated over and over again seems to be losing its weight, the words no longer feeling as true as before.

“Would it be alright, if I were to get to know you better, My Lady?” he asks, his voice softer than before, his fair face still neutral, yet less austere than it had been the first time you met.

Elves only love once.

And yet.

“I would like that very much, Your Grace.” Your smile widens, less unsure than before, your eyes shining like starlight. The prospect of something new is exciting yet also terrifying at the same time. You should run and hide, fiercely guarding your already fragile heart like a dragon watches over its treasure hoard.

Elves only love once. And yet.

You push aside those fears, in favor of welcoming a chance at a new beginning.

And yet.

o0o0o

Tags:

#thranduil imagine #the hobbit imagine #thranduil #the hobbit #lord of the rings #thranduil x reader #the hobbit one shot #mirkwood elves #mirkwood imagine

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witchofthescions · 2 years

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As Lenar gained proficiency in his newfound craft, he found himself coming to like the guildmaster on some level. He was abrasive and lacked a lot of social graces, yes, but the same could be said of Lenar. The man held Lenar to high standards, but he had yet to give Lenar a task that was completely beyond his skills. And he made it clear that he fully expected Lenar to one day be his equal.

"Soon," the guildmaster said upon Lenar's successful completion of yet another menial task, "I will have one last task for you to perform. Once done, I shall permit you to assist me during my ascent to the absolute pinnacle of alchemy!"

High praise indeed from the man who had been all too quick to dismiss Lenar on their first meeting.

When Lenar dragged the guildmaster's attention away from his work this time, he actually sounded genuinely glad to see him.

"The time is ripe to once more gauge the degree of mastery you have thus far attained!"

The task this time was to create a high-quality blinding potion. A rather hilariously fitting task for a blind man.

"Yes, you are perhaps the only person in this guild who would be unaffected should something go wrong in the brewing process," the guildmaster remarked. "That is another reason why I thought you were best suited to the task when it crossed my workbench."

"Well, I won't lose my nonexistent sight," Lenar said. "But from what I recall, the potion works by irritating the eyes, doesn't it? My eyes may not see, but they do still feel pain."

"Ah, yes, fair enough," the guildmaster said. "But the point still stands. Do take care not to test it on yourself regardless."

"I'm not that much of a masochist."

"Good, good. Now, do not tarry a moment longer! To work!"

Concocting a potion intended to cause harm did not bother Lenar overly much. One of the great ironies of medicine was that in order to preserve life, one needed to understand how to end it. A lot of modern medical knowledge had been acquired through the study of dead bodies, after all. And it was not as if Lenar hadn't taken more than a few lives over the course of his adventures.

However, he could see the merits in things like blinding potions. Providing a means of disabling opponents in a nonlethal manner was something he could get behind. Because as much as he accepted the occasional need for violence, his heart still bled for people in general. While he refused to let himself dwell on every single life he took, it nevertheless did not sit well with him that thus far there had been scarce few instances where the confrontation did not end in his opponent's death.

So he thought nothing of taking his masterfully crafted potions to the guildmaster's unnamed client.

"I have not forgotten her name!" the guildmaster assured Lenar. "She apparently did not give one when she left the order."

Lenar had to admit that was a bit peculiar, if only because it would make tracking the woman down that much more difficult. And, perhaps, in retrospect he should have been more wary of handing a potion like this over to someone apparently affiliated with a bandit gang. But, well... his father was a bandit once, and it wasn't as if Lenar was handing these bandits a deadly poison.

The client, however, was less than pleased.

"I see Severian did nothing to put a stop to this," she muttered bitterly as Lenar handed the potions over. "He should know full well the consequences of handing over such dangerous substances to a criminal organization."

"...Beg pardon?"

"Confused? I am W'bulea of the Sultansworn."

...Ah. So he had handed these potions to an undercover guard. Perhaps not the most brilliant of ideas, all things considered. Then again, handing them over to actual bandits planning a heist would have been even more ill advised, wouldn't it.

"Wondering how your guildmaster would handle a request from such unsavory elements, I insinuated myself into a position to receive the delivery. His lack of restraint is... disappointing, but not entirely unexpected."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Sapphire's ears perked up a bit, the carbuncle regarding W'bulea with curiosity.

W'bulea let out a tired sigh. "He is not the man he once was. Oh, certainly, Severian has always had a passion for his work, but ever since the tragic events of the Calamity, it has become an all-consuming obsession."

The tragic events of the Calamity. A knot formed in Lenar's stomach. She couldn't possibly be implying what he thought she was implying about Severian's research.

"Would you take a message back to the guild for me? I want you to tell Severian to cease this insane quest of his."

She couldn't be.

"At first, I thought the distraction of his research might prove beneficial, but he has lost all sense of self-control."

...Well, she wasn't exactly wrong. How many times had Lenar found the man asleep at his workstation again?

"No, my sister would never countenance this destructive behavior... I will have W'nahja returned to me."

Lenar drew in a sharp breath. He barely registered her next words, or her departure.

She did mean what he thought she did. Was it even possible? No one, in all of history, had ever successfully done something like this. There was always a catch, always. This sort of thing was used as a cautionary tale, a warning against messing with the balance of life and death.

"You were absent too long. Too long!"

Before Lenar knew it, he was back at the guild, standing by Severian's workbench. The various chemical smells wafting from the station felt different, now that he had an inkling of what they were for.

"Your delivery was well received, yes?"

Lenar took a deep breath. "She demanded you return W'nahja."

"Demand I return..." The guildmaster let out a bitter laugh. "I see you have met the cold-hearted and conniving W'bulea."

Lenar hesitated to call her either.

"I have not the slightest intention of giving up on W'nahja now. I must remain focused on the successful culmination of my greatest experiment, so that finally she might─" The usually confident guildmaster faltered, stumbling over his words. "So that I might tell her..."

He trailed off into silence. Lenar couldn't see his expression, but he was almost certain the guildmaster was glad for that.

"Bah, but these matters have no place in our discussion. Once again you have spared me a bothersome interruption, and proven your alchemical expertise in so doing." The guildmaster's tone brightened again, taking on almost a manic edge. "From this day forth, I shall think of you no longer as my lackey, but as an assistant in truth. Soon... soon shall we achieve the ultimate expression of alchemy. I bid you return to your studies and prepare for that glorious moment!"

Most people would be filled with concern and trepidation at a moment like this. Those who had figured out the guildmaster's aim would be questioning his sanity, no doubt. Wondering if it would truly be wise to continue down this path, or whether it would be better to quietly quit the guild and pursue their alchemical studies elsewhere.

Lenar was not most people. Perhaps he should have questioned his own sanity. Perhaps he was just as mad as the guildmaster.

Or, perhaps, he simply shared the man's deep abiding grief. Perhaps their paths had crossed like this because, on some level, they were attempting to cope with their grief in the same way. Throwing themselves into their studies, searching for something that may well be impossible.

If the guildmaster wanted Lenar to walk this insane path with him, then who was he to say no?

#The Unending Journey (Drabbles)#!long post #A Moment's Reprieve (Dragonsong Interlude)

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keytomythoughts · 3 years

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Perfection Imperfections | Chapter 1

Chapter Index

»»—————————————-　

Finally, summer break. It’s been a while since I was able to go home. Having to attend high school rather far from my home in Seoul, I never thought that I’d adjust to the new environment. Fortunately, I wasn’t entirely alone, since I stayed with my aunt for the four years of my high school life. School wasn’t so bad, but the homesickness is what killed it for me. Even though it was my parents' idea to send me a rather vast distance—me not being too excited about it, but I knew I wouldn’t get my way in the end—there was some good that came from it. The two only good things, actually.

I glance outside the train window, the buildings of Busan zooming past me. Sure, it may not be my home, but I won’t lie. I’m really going to miss this place. My phone suddenly vibrates in my lap, glancing down to see a text from my group chat, smiling as I respond.

(Binnie)

R u still on the train?

Yeah have been for the past like 30 mins

(Eunuwu)

Going back to ur parents? Or r u moving out?

Funny

Yk I can’t move out, at least not on my own. My parents won’t allow it

(Binnie)

What about Jaehyun?

Idk, they rlly dc what he does tbh

They’re just hell-bent on me getting into the top schools and shit

(Eunuwu)

Damn, rough

Mhm

(Binnie)

Try talking to them, u never know

They might change their minds?

Nah, I already know how it’s gonna end

Me crying and stuffing myself with pints of ice cream

(Eunuwu)

Doesn't sound so bad

(Binnie)

¬_¬

(Eunuwu)

Except for the crying part ofc

But c’mon it cant really be THAT bad

I’ve been over plenty of times, they seem nice

(Binnie)

U’ve been to her house??

Yeah him and oppa are friends too

(Binnie)

Righttt forgot lol

And that’s bc you were there dumbass and half of the time ur either in oppa’s room or out somewhere

Interaction with my parents = minimal

(Binnie)

That sounds awful ngl :( sorry Hyuna

But hey we should all hang soon!

(Eunuwu)

I’ll be in Seoul for the summer too so y not?

I miss y’all :’(

Ok I should be there around like 5 ish so I’ll text then

(Binnie)

Aww I miss u toooo

(Eunuwu)

*puke*

Shut up, ur just jealous

(Eunuwu)

Me? Jealous?? Of what, ur face?

Yea no thx, Ive got a great face already

And personality 0:)

Gr8, explains why ur still single

(Binnie)

LOLL

She got u there bro

(Eunuwu)

Shut up

Ur talking as if u’ve got a gf

Idiot

(Binnie)

At least I didnt reject them as coldly as u did lol

See? My point exactly

Your fAcE scared off every girl in sight bc of tht pErSoNaLiTy

I almost feel bad for them, u little heart breaker

(Binnie)

He made a couple of em cry I heard

Rlly?!?

YAH

U MORON

(Eunuwu)

Bin wtf

(Binnie)

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

U JERK HOW COULD U??

Those poor girls omg

Im so kicking ur ass when I c u

(Binnie)

Me 2

(Eunuwu)

Wtf?? Y???

(Binnie)

No reason lol, just feel like it

And this is why ily Binnie

(Binnie)

:D <3

(Eunuwu)

GROSS

Can it u demon

Read 4:02 PM

I snort, turning off my phone and placing it back down on my lap as I go back to staring outside my left-hand window again. Meet Cha Eunwoo and Moon Bin, my two best friends. The only reason I got through high school how I did without major setbacks. Sure, there was the occasional homesickness and all, but had I not met these two, I probably wouldn’t have even attended and graduated.

Being so far away from the place I grew up never really suited me, and they saw it right away from day one how lonely and upset I looked. I didn't seem to fit in, especially since I skipped a grade and was placed in classes that were very advanced for me. Not that I minded the vigor, but it was hard for me to socialize, let alone make friends.

That’s when I met them. Freshman year in homeroom before my first literature class. Moon Bin, a boy with parted, coppery-golden hair accompanied by his shy, puppy-eye smile and sweet nature, offered me an empty seat next to him in class, even going as far as to share his textbook and asking how I found the school. No doubt, I was embarrassed and immensely shy, stuttering over my words and failing to meet his soft gaze. However, he didn’t make fun of me nor find me odd. All he did was smile, laughing lightly at my slightly flustered state. He stuck his hand out, introducing himself (most people just call him Moonbin or Bin) with that smile of his, thus the start of our new friendship. Since then, he became someone who always knew how to cheer me up when I was feeling down. No moment was ever dull with him by my side.

Eunwoo, the tall, brooding black-haired and charismatic student almost everyone knew (and crushed on) of, was usually with Moonbin when we hung out together, but he normally kept to himself. Though quiet and sometimes reserved with his intimidating looks, it didn’t take long for him to break the ice with us, the three of us becoming close friends. Promising to stay like this until we went to college and beyond. Regardless if we all diverge and tread different paths, we would always converge and come back to one another.

Four years flew by and graduation was upon us. Just like that, the two became like family to me, my ride-or-die duo. The two who were able to turn my world upside down, finding solace in a time where I thought it was nearly impossible for me to.

My thoughts are interrupted by my “Move” ringtone—yes, I’m a huge Lee Taemin fan—looking down at my phone again to see it’s my brother calling. I sigh, picking up the call.

“What?”

He gasps dramatically. “Is that any way to address your loving older brother after being away for so long?”

I snort, shaking my head. “Loving my ass, oppa. How are mom and dad?”

“They’re fine, living. Didn’t you tell them you’re coming home?”

“Nope, I don’t even text them that often. You already know this..”

He sighs. “Yeah, I figured.”

There’s a slight pause on his end, but he continues. “You took the three-thirty train, right? So you’ll be here around five or so?”

“Yeah, give or take.”

I look out the window again to see the endless stretch of greenery and flowing springs, sometimes even children playing in the fields. I grin mischievously, deciding to poke fun at my brother when he doesn’t respond right away.

“What, you miss me?”

He makes a sound similar to throwing up. “As if. I got so used to the peace and quiet. I’m not ready for it to go away.”

“Yah!” I realize that I had yelled a bit too loudly and eyes were now trained on me, and I bow my head in apology. I lower my voice, “You’re such an asshole.”

“Oh, I know, but you still love me anyway.”

“Shut up.”

I can hear his laugh resonate through the phone and a smile unknowingly tugs at my lips. I wouldn’t say it out loud, but it’s true. When I lived with my aunt in Busan for the duration of high school, I missed Jaehyun a lot. Though two years older than me, he didn’t seem to alienate me the way my parents do. While I hate the notion that they spoil Jaehyun endlessly and let him do as he wishes, I won’t lie and say that he was a prick about it. He could’ve been, but he never came off as selfish. I’m really close with my brother, shocking as it may be. Sibling relationships are like that—one minute you want to strangle them with their intestines and the next you’re singing duets together. Crazy, but that’s how it is for us. My parents don’t really pay me any attention, so Jaehyun decides to do that instead. Not complaining though. I’d rather take his pranking and teasing over my parents’ demands and reprimands any day.

“Aight, I’m heading out for a bit. Text me when you arrive.”

I smile again. “Will do, but make sure to get me food!”

“Let me think…” He hums, and I can practically sense the smirk on his end. “Nope. Get your own.”

“Oppa!”

Jaehyun laughs. “See you in a bit, Hyuna. Get here safely. Bye!”

He hangs up the call before I get a chance to retort, and I scoff. Typical of my brother. He knows how much I enjoy street food, and every time he goes out, it’s almost certain that most of the time he stops somewhere to eat. Did he ever bring food back? Sure, but by the time I’d get to it, most of it was gone anyways. That only lasted a little while before I had gone upstate anyways, so he had more food for himself, I guess.

As the train barrels down the tracks, I feel my heart racing in excitement, but there’s also a slight ounce of dread. I really don’t know why. I want to believe it’s because I’ve been away for too long, but part of me knows it’s the fact that I’ll have to face my parents again. Knowing that I only have two months to decide where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do, I know the bitter truth is that those decisions won’t be left up to me. Last time, I was sent to Busan.

God knows where I’d be sent to now.

***

“Final destination of the KTX Busan-Seoul train at Seoul Station is approaching and will arrive at 05:30 PM. The doors to alight are on the right hand side. All passengers are requested to dismount the train upon arrival. Thank you.”

That’s my stop.

Gathering my bag and hand luggage, I patiently wait for the train to pull up at the station. Seeing the familiar shops and buildings around me makes my legs bounce up and down in both excitement and anticipation.

Four long years away from Seoul...

Before getting off, I quickly text the group chat and then my brother, letting them all know that I’ve reached safely. Side-stepping the other passengers exiting the subway doors, I carefully land onto the platform with my luggage in tow. I breathe in the air around as I stretch my arms up into the sky, the grin widening on my face.

It sure as hell feels good to be back home.

I try my best to maneuver through the crowds, but it doesn’t stop the rush of people knocking into me. At times like these, I curse my genetics for favoring my older brother instead of me in terms of height. Eventually, I come to a clearing and when my eyes glance upwards, I spot a rather familiar dark brown-haired six-foot-tall male amongst the small crowd waving me over.

“Hyuna, over here!”

I gasp, my eyes widening. “Oppa!”

He smiles as I begin walking towards him, my feet hurriedly moving across the concrete. The distance between us shortens and I abandon my luggage as he opens his arms wide.

Only for me to sucker punch him in the stomach.

He yelps in pain, grimacing as he holds his abdomen. “Shit, that hurt. What has Aunt Sua been feeding you up there? Rocks?”

I smack his shoulder, my blood slightly boiling in anger. “Yah, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?! Do you know how much money I blew off for the bus fare?”

He straightens his back before going to rub his shoulder, then behind his neck.

“Fine, fine. My bad. I wanted to surprise you, but I guess that didn’t work, did it?”

I cross my arms over my chest, huffing in annoyance. He sighs, nodding.

“Okay, okay, I’ll compensate you. Dinner’s on me.”

At this I grin, blinking excitedly. I grab onto his arm and shake it vigorously. “Really? You mean it? You’re the best, oppa!”

“Look at this brat..” he taunts, shaking his head. In a flash, he headlocks me and rubs the top of my head harshly with his knuckles, upsetting the neatly-tied auburn ponytail.

“Yah! Quit it!” I smack his arms and flail in protest, but he chuckles, saying this is what I get for cunningly finding a way to exploit him the minute I stepped back into Seoul.

What can I say? It’s a talent.

He lets go eventually, and I try to smooth down my already-tangled hair. I grumble incoherently but Jaehyun pulls me into his embrace, wrapping his arms around me. His free hand gently pats the side of my head in comfort.

“Welcome home, sis.”

I stand there stiff for a second before hugging back. He squeezes me tighter and I find myself smiling into his shoulder.

“Good to be back,” I whisper.

We stand like that for a moment before he pats my back a couple of times, us pulling away from each other soon after. He reaches behind me to grab my hand luggage as he shoulders my bag. I tell him that I can carry them just fine, but he starts walking away from the platform to the parking lot. I call out after him as I run to catch up, and I can see the corners of his mouth twitch. Jaehyun leads me to his car, a sleek matte-silver convertible Mustang. My mouth drops open in shock at its stunning beauty, my body forcing itself to remain composed for the sake of avoiding public self-embarrassment.

He throws my luggage in the back seat before he turns to me, smirking at my expression. “You like it?”

“Shit, do I like it? I love it!” I run my fingers over its metallic surface, the silver exterior gleaming in the evening glow. Grinning, I stare up at my brother who catches my gaze as I stand next to the driver’s seat, my fingers already curled on the handle.

“Can I—”

“No.”

“Please—”

“Nope.”

I pout as I pull my hand away and step to the side. Jaehyun chuckles, rubbing my head playfully before getting into the driver’s seat and starting the car. The engine purrs to life as my brother pulls out his shades and wears them. He looks at me and cocks his head to the passenger seat.

“Don’t just stand there. Get in.”

Smiling, I quickly make my way over to the other side and slip into the passenger seat. I barely have time to buckle in before Jaehyun speeds off. I scream in fright, but he laughs heartily, telling me to let loose.

With the wind harshly whipping around us, I close my eyes and tilt my head upwards, absorbing the remnants of my childhood in a place I’ll always call home. A place where my heart always feels at ease.

My name is Jung Hyuna. I’m eighteen years old, and this is my story.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

#moonbin x oc #moonbin ff #moonbin fic #moon bin #cha eunwoo #jung jaehyun #astro #nct #fanfiction #my writings #mine

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idy-ll-ique · 4 years

Text

This Can't Be.

Pairing: Tom Holland x F!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff (enemies to friends to lovers)

Warnings: mentions of an eating disorder, curse words lol

Requested: By anonymous

How about a Tom Holland x Reader where the reader is also famous and they fight a lot, and then a few days later she stops eating, and ends up exhausted and passes out and he goes to her house crying and apologizing, well, do it cry lol.

Summary: Y/N and Tom are in a new movie together but they don't really get along. Tom calls her a fatty, so she tries to lose weight by starving herself. After she ends up in the hospital, they make amends.

Author's Note: Hi y'all! A request after a such a long time! Also, I would like to apologize to anon if this isn't exactly what you were looking for. I still hope you like it.

---

Y/N POV:

"Tom from Marvel? Surely… surely you mean Tom Hiddleston?" I blurted out, my eyes going wide. "No, honey, Tom Holland. He's much closer to you by age, he's the perfect fit," my manager said, giving me a small smile. She knew how much I loathed that man.

"No, shut the fuck up, this can't be! It can't! You know I hate that overgrown manchild—"

"Please, Y/N. Try to understand. This movie can be your next big thing. It's offering a lot of money and they specifically requested for you. Come on, sharing one kiss with him can't be that bad," Ellie tried reasoning. "It can be that bad! I don't like him! It will be awkward! Why don't they choose Zen? She's awesome and they get along well!" I whined, covering my eyes with the palms of my hands.

"She has already done a lot of movies with him. From what I've heard, she rejected this movie and suggested your name. Come on, do it," Ellie urged tiredly. I groaned and flopped down on the bed. "Fine, I'll do it. If I end up murdering that man, try to save me," I muttered. Ellie laughed and left my room.

I curled up on the bed, my stomach turning. Just his name made bile rise up my throat and my blood boil. "Fucking Holland," I hissed under my breath. It all began on the sets of one of the movies we did together as teenagers, called Exile. The thing is, he— wait a minute.

My brows furrowed. What did he even do to me to make me hate him so much? "Come to think of it…" I mumbled, desperately trying to remember why I disliked him. "Eh, still," I huffed; even if I couldn't remember the reason, I hated him.

I got off the bed and went to the bathroom for I had an interview coming up soon.

---

Tom POV:

"Ew, Y/N? Are you fucking kidding me, mate? I can't do this movie with her," I spat, glaring at Harrison. "Why do you even hate her? She's such a sweet person," he sighed exasperatedly. "I— she just aggravates me so much! Plus, she decided to hate me first! She is never polite to me, why should I like her?" I stammered, throwing my arms up.

"Whatever. You are doing the movie and you are doing it with her. It's just one fucking kiss, dude, you'll be fine," Harrison said, rolling his eyes. I huffed and looked away when he walked out of the room. "Fucking Y/L/N," I hissed, crossing my arms.

She irked me so much. She always called me names and teased me. Except, when she teased me, she meant every word— she bullied me. I wondered if she had matured and decided to leave our childish banter behind but knowing her, I knew it was impossible. She was an overgrown child. "As if she has grown up," I laughed cruelly.

I shook my head and ridded myself from the thoughts of her, putting on my jacket. I had plans of going to the nearby bar with Harry, Haz and Sam. I wouldn't let Y/N destroy my night with the boys.

---

Y/N POV:

"Ugh, is he even coming? See, you can never expect him on time! Probably putting on his diaper or something, that takes time," I grunted, glaring at nothing on the wall in front of me. "Stop being rude, Y/N. Please, leave this old, childish and irrelevant banter and grow up. You don't even remember why you fought with him."

"It's just…" I looked away from Ellie and she rubbed my arm, a small sigh escaping her lips. "Where is she?" I heard and looked up. Tom was looking for me. "Over here, asshole," I called out and he stared at me. For a brief second, a look of confusion and shock came over his face. Then he quickly snapped out of it.

"Still the same entitled brat, I see. I would love working with you," he said with faux affection, a sarcastic smile on his face. "Likewise. Are we done here? I don't want to waste my time with you, I have lots more important things to do. To be honest, really everything is more important than you, so…" I poked my tongue out at him and walked away.

When I was about 15 feet away from him, I wrapped my arms around myself. For the first time in forever, I actually felt guilty about being so rude to him. Maybe Ellie was right, why should I fight with him if I didn't even remember why we started? I couldn't let down my guard now, though, I was too deep into this mess.

If I tried to be more cordial, he would start taunting me even more. I would snap and insult him, thus starting our fight all over again. I'd just have to swallow my guilt and keep being rude, I guess. I shook my head and walked out of the place.

---

Tom POV:

"How are you, Ellie?" Despite having enmity with Y/N, I really liked her manager. Ellie, unlike Y/N, was cute, sweet and polite. "Hi Tom, I'm good! I'm sorry about Y/N. I tried to tell her that your banter is childish but she completely ignored me," she sighed and we hugged each other.

"Y/N is a stupid bitch, you don't need to pay attention to her. She has always been rude and bratty, at least you're not like her. You're so much better," I chuckled. Ellie and Haz shook hands, smiling at each other. "Are you sure you'll be comfortable working with each other? What if the fight escalates?" Ellie asked worriedly.

"I will try my best to be friendly with her, I won't let the fight escalate. Nothing should ruin the movie," I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "I don't know why she wants to fight with you, Tom. She herself told me she didn't remember why you fought in the first place and now…"

"Wait, she what?" My eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Yes! She doesn't remember why you started your banter and now she won't listen to me when I tell her to give up the enmity," Ellie said, her lips pulled into a thin line. "Wait, I don't… I don't remember either…" I mumbled. Haz and Ellie looked at each other.

"Why don't you two just try to be friends? Please? Both of you are amazing people, this banter is nonsensical," Haz insisted. "I'll try my best but I don't know about her dram—"

"Tom."

"Ugh, sorry!"

---

Y/N POV:

"Yo, wassup pussy! Too scared, huh? No wonder your roast game is weak AF," I laughed, walking into the room with a packet of chips in my hands. Two months had passed since we started working together. For some reason, though, he absolutely didn't try to rile me up with his smartass comments. Somehow, I felt as if he was holding back, but I don't know… I had to find out.

He looked at me and rolled his eyes. "Will you shut up, fatty? I'm trying to do something here and working without your overweight ass will be so much easier! I tried to end our fight but you surely don't want to grow up! Leave and don't come back," he snapped, glaring at me.

I froze. His comment… actually hurt. It hurt me in my heart. Fatty. Overweight. I looked at the packet of chips in my hands and walked up to the nearby bin, throwing it away. I tried to hold my tears in as I ran out of the room to my trailer. Once I was in the comfort of my own trailer, I let the tears roll down my eyes.

For 15 minutes, I sat crying. I felt ashamed of insulting him, now. He grew up. I was still the rude teenager he worked with in Exile. Of course he hated me, I hadn't been nice to him at all. This was my fault. When I finally stopped crying, I looked at myself in the mirror.

I promised myself that I would be more polite to him after this.

---

Tom POV:

"Yo, where is Y/N? Our scene starts in five minutes! Ellie?" I questioned, looking at her. "The last time I checked she was in her trailer, should I go check on her?" she offered. I shook my head. "Let me go." I walked out of the room and went to her trailer. "Y/N! Don't you know our scene starts in five minutes? Get your ass up!"

When I got no snide remark in return, my brows furrowed. What was she doing in there? "Y/N?" I called out, knocking on the door. The door, I found out, was open. Against my own wish, I opened the door. A loud gasp escaped my lips. "Y/N!" I shouted, swiftly climbing into the trailer.

She had fallen on the floor, unconscious, her head resting against the bed. My eyes widened in horror when I observed her pale skin and skinny body. Her bones were poking out; it looked as though she was wearing her skin on her skeleton like spandex. "Y/N!" I whispered, picking her up. My heart broke when I noticed how lightweight she was.

"Tom? We heard you shou— what happened?" Ellie gasped, running towards me. "She's too cold, we need to take her to the hospital," I spoke rapidly. The two of us called an ambulance and within half an hour, Y/N was being taken to the hospital. Ellie and I were with her.

"What happened? She… she looks so skinny…" I asked Ellie, my chest heaving. "Fucking hell! She wasn't eating! Every time I offered food she said she wasn't hungry or that she ate already… now I know! She was starving herself! It's been 5 months, she hasn't eaten a single thing—"

5 months. I knew what happened 5 months ago. "Will you shut up, fatty?" I whispered, a sharp pain coursing through my chest. She wasn't eating because I called her fat. I shouldn't have, not when she wasn't fat at all! This was all my fault. Why did I let this happen?

"Tom, is everything okay?" I looked at Ellie, snapping out of my thoughts. "Uh, yeah— yeah I'm good," I muttered. Upon reaching the hospital, Y/N was immediately put up for an emergency operation.

I stayed at the hospital for 5 hours with Ellie, that's how long her operation took. The shooting was temporarily put on hold and news outlets started talking about Y/N being in the hospital. The hospital was shut down.

---

Y/N POV:

Darkness. All around me. What happened? Where was I? I tried to open my eyes but it hurt. I groaned and forced them open, trying to sit up. I moved my hands but found out they were connected to something. "Ms Y/L/N!" a surprised voice gasped. "Where am I?" I moaned.

"I'm Dr Watson, you're at the hospital," he said soothingly, scribbling something down on his notepad. "Like Sherlock?" I chuckled weakly, giving him a smile. "I've been asked that many times. Good to know you're feeling better, Y/N," he smiled, ruffling my hair.

He then proceeded to walk out of the room. A few seconds later, Ellie and Tom walked in. "What the fuck, Y/N? You thought starving yourself while shooting a movie was important? Why did you do this? You gave us all a heart attack!" Ellie scolded, glaring at me. I looked away, ashamed.

"I know someone didn't care," I muttered. "If you're thinking of me, you're wrong. I found you unconscious, Y/N, and brought you here. Of course I cared. I would also like to apologize for my rude remark, I shouldn't have called you that," he said, rubbing the back of his head.

I stared at him. He brought me here? "Oh, uh, thank you, I guess," I said softly, giving him a small smile. He smiled back. "I'm going to speak to the doctor, you stay here." Ellie left the room. Tom looked around and finally pointed to the bed. "May I?" he asked awkwardly.

"Sure," I laughed. He grinned and sat down near my abdomen. For a few minutes, there was silence between us. "So, I guess we should stop fighting, huh? I mean, none of us remember why we fought, so…" Tom said, looking out of the window. "You're right. Friends?"

"Friends." We shook hands, smiling at each other. "I'm sorry for all the rude things I've called you over the years, I really am," I apologized sincerely. "I'm sorry, too. Maybe we can forget all that and try to get to know each other?" Tom suggested. "I like that idea," I chuckled.

"Why did you starve yourself, though?" he asked quietly. "Every time I saw food, your voice echoed in my head. Fatty. I lost my appetite and didn't eat," I explained, looking at my lap. "I'm so sorry," he said, frowning at me. "It's okay, I'm fine now. We're friends now, I'll be fine." We gave each other small smiles.

Turns out, I had to stay at the hospital for a month and after that, the shooting would resume. Every single day for a month, Tom and I hung out at the hospital. Our getting-to-know-each-other sessions were going really well; we actually had a lot of interests in common! I would've known this, of course, if I wasn't too busy fighting with him for absolutely no reason.

---

Tom POV:

"Today's the kiss scene, right?"

I fixed my bow tie, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah. Thankfully we're friends now, it shouldn't be that awkward." I grinned at Harrison. He grinned back. "I'm glad. Your fight was pointless anyway."

We left my trailer and walked towards the sets. When I walked in, I paused— Y/N was looking adorably stunning in the dress she wore. Her hair was done amazingly and she was chatting with Ellie. Not many people were at the set today, the scene was going to be shot privately.

I had to admit, after hanging out with her for a month, I started forming a crush on her. Maybe I could ask her out on a date, see how that worked out… "Tom! Here!" I looked at Y/N, who waved me over. I walked to her, a wide smile on my face. "You're looking really beautiful," I complimented, smirking a bit when she blushed.

"Not too shabby yourself, sir," she winked. "If you're ready, shall we start?" the director called out. The two of us gave our signals and took our place. The setting was such: A ballroom, the two of us were dancing. We simply had to say I love you and give each other a kiss. Not too difficult, we would be done in five minutes.

"And… action!"

We said those three words to each other, smiled dreamily and leaned forward. When our lips connected, I felt real-life butterflies in my stomach. I liked Y/N and the kiss… the kiss was amazing. "Cut!" We pulled away. After gazing at each other for ten seconds, we burst out giggling. "You're a pretty good kisser, Tom."

"Not too shabby yourself, ma'am," I teased, repeating her previous words. "Wanna get coffee after changing?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye. "Do I? Meet you at the gates in thirty minutes, last one there's a loser!"

"Tom, come back, ugh!" Y/N yelled as I ran towards my trailer. "It's not my fault you're wearing a dress!" I yelled back, laughing loudly. "Shut up!"

Our date went extremely well, needless to say.

---

A/N: Leave a like! Thanks for reading!

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x female reader #tom holland characters #peter parker x reader #spiderman #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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jurijurijurious · 3 years

Text

Writerly ephemera meme

I was tagged by @thisbluespirit in this rather intriguing meme!

Find five bits of yourself that you gave to your fiction (memories and places and phrases and things into our stories), post and tag five or more writers to share as well.

Now I know I do write bits of myself and my experiences into my stories, one way or another, I think everyone does, but it doesn’t half put you on the spot when you have to try to remember where you’ve done it!

1) I know that recently I wrote Walsingham passing out at the end of a scene in “Mea Culpa”. The entire description is based on personal experience. I went through a scary few years as a young teen where I would pass out for little to no reason, usually at school where there were lots of people watching to cause me huge embarrassment, which then almost gave me a form of PTSD. I was constantly anxious about fainting, it was not good, and we never found out why it happened. But that’s another story... I still occasionally pass out but it’s usually for a reason, after having a vaccine or blood taken or something, but the whole process of fainting, though horrible, is like an old nemesis to me, uncomfortably familiar. I generally feel intense sickness in my stomach, my vision is puckered increasingly with white dots, my entire body comes out in a sweat, and I hear a high pitched whistle-type noise as I lose consciousness. And so since that is my experience, it became Wals’s too:

His palms sweated, his pulse raced... He shuddered and emitted another strangled breath, fingers white where he clutched the window sill, body trembling. He needed rest. Ursula's voice was becoming distant, the room was swaying like the deck of a ship caught in a storm. He felt a sudden nausea in his stomach, could hear a high pitched sound in his ears, a siren's wail beckoning him into the abyss.

“I am sorry. So very sorry,” he whispered, though he knew not exactly who he was addressing. His own voice now sounded as if it was coming from underwater, far away; he was drowning and could resist no more, slipped where he stood and descended into the open arms of oblivion.

2) This is another Walsibeth example I’m afraid because I haven’t written anything else for about a decade! So... Though the pandemic and my lack of funds has put a temporary hold to my hobby of horse riding, I am a half-capable rider and love tearing across country if opportunity allows on horseback. I can thus write people riding horses (English style, anyway) with a degree of accuracy. So in my smutty one-shot fic “In perpetuum et unum diem” (the one which is mostly a pastiche of the raunchy finale of “The Tudors” season 1, and also an excuse for me to write shameless sex), I began the ficlet with a bit of a horse-race between Bess and Wals to get the blood up (a scene that in itself mirrors Elizabeth’s racing with Raleigh in TGA, I later realised). Though I personally haven’t raced a person on horseback per se, I have done beach rides and also ridden on a horseback safari in Africa where you gallop as a group, and “giving your horse its head” is the order of the day! So a lot of this passage is me:

She turned her head back over her shoulder and caught Francis’ eyes. His lip quirked slightly at the corner but otherwise there was no change to his countenance. But that was enough. Her smile deepend as if to invite him to race her and she turned her head back around, gave her dappled grey mare its head and pressed her calves to its flanks. And the beast responded, driving its legs harder, faster, into a gallop and flew like a falcon through the trees.

...

As the wind flew in Elizabeth’s face, making her eyes water, a great whoop of exhilaration escaped her. There was nothing but her and the horse, and the knowledge that her blackguard of a lover galloped behind her. This was what it should feel like to live, even in tragically brief snippets; to feel the blood in your veins, the air in your chest, and the sun on your face, wild and free.

They then jump a tree trunk which I’d love to say I’d do, and I might, but most of my falls have been from jumping so I’d probably wimp out and go the long way around... ;)

3) Annnd another one from my Walsibeth fic “Mea Culpa”, just because it’s fresh in my mind. When I was driving to work last winter, there was one Sunday morning which had a jaw-droppingly beautiful sunrise. I tried to take a photo of it but could not do it justice. I did find a photo of Lincoln Cathedral on instagram from the same morning though which captured the sky perfectly. It literally looked like the sky was on fire, or something, and I immediately worked this memory into my story! I felt that a sky like that would make the perfect backdrop for a single, forlorn, broken bastard riding his horse in a clear, freezing morning:

There was a strange light in the sky as the sun began to make its ascent. It turned a deep crimson then lifted to shades of rich amber and gold; this combined with the few grey clouds passing overhead gave it the illusion of a huge fire, as if a great furnace now filled the heavens. Some might have called it beautiful, others would see a grim omen.

4) I had a look in my dreaded old fic archive, so full of cringe, and I found this from the end of my Doctor Who fic “Choices”, which I reckon I wrote between 2005-2006, possibly finishing it later than that. This scene right at the end (told from the perspective of Rose and the ninth Doctor’s daughter, Hope) is literally my old senior school - the class length, the finish time, the uniform was what I wore, and my history teacher was Mrs. Gaskin, and my mum would be waiting in her car to pick me and my sisters up:

By a quarter-to-three in the afternoon, she was in another History lesson with Mrs. Gaskin, and was spending another forty-five minutes hearing about the Black Death, the plague doctors, and the red crosses that were painted on people’s doors. It was fascinating, but Hope’s concentration wasn’t there. She kept looking out of the window at the school yard, noticing the little details that other days she would take for granted - like the way the trees swayed in the wind, the way a crisp-packet rolled across the concrete, and the pure azure-blue colour of the cloudless sky. Something was afoot but she had no idea what it was, or why she was feeling this way.

The bell rang finally at the end of the lesson, as the clock read three-thirty, and the class disappeared swiftly out of the door. It was home time! The voices of myriads of children echoed and shrilled down the corridors, and desperate feet, eager to get home, pounded down the stairs, making for the exits. White shirts were un-tucked from trouser and skirt hems, blue-and-red ties were loosened from about shirt collars, and black blazers were thrown off and carried over shoulders as the mass of pupils took flight.

Hope, however, took things slowly, almost as if she might never see them again, picking up on every smile, every individual laugh, and every joke pulled on every unsuspecting victim. She waved goodbye to friends, hitched her backpack over her shoulder, and made her way out of the school gates toward the spot where her mum or Uncle Jack would usually be waiting to pick her up. As she turned the corner onto Petunia Grove, though, she stopped and sighed. The car - either her mum’s or Jack’s - was not there.

Hope pursed her lips and shrugged, taking another good look around just to make sure that she hadn’t missed it, but there wasn’t a familiar car in sight. She thus let her bag slip off her shoulder, and she perched her backside on the street sign, swinging one of her feet back and forth as she waited for the arrival of her escort.

In the meantime, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander again, as it had been doing often throughout the day, and looked around the street. There was a blue tit on the hedge over the road, stood near a couple of sparrows and a robin. The front door of house number five was a brilliant shade of red, something which she had never really noticed before, and there was some graffiti on the road sign on the opposite side of the street. It read ‘Bad’ something or other, but she couldn’t read the other word since it was blocked off by the blue box.

Hope blinked and slowly rose to her feet. It couldn’t be…

5) And for number five, this is a short extract from the an unpublished Star Wars fic I wrote around 2010, where I tried for what must have been the third time to re-write the Star Wars nonsense I wrote as a teenager, all starring my very Mary Sue OC, Nadia, who became Vader’s apprentice and was mentored by Veers. I have here again worked my experiences of passing out into the story - a psychologist would have a field day with me. Nadia’s thoughts about showing weakness were also real fears of mine - I never liked to be weak, to be ill, to be a burden, and my character was the mouthpiece for my own self-disgust. It’s written in the first person with Nadia narrating in this scene where she accompanies General (Maximilian) Veers to the Kaminoan’s cloning facility to review further batches of troops and is taken ill by the experience of seeing the thousands of farmed foetuses:

Max nodded whilst I remained breathless and shaky in his shadow. I could not get those tiny, wriggling foetuses out of many head - they floated upon my consciousness, their inhuman eyes glaring into my face and their tiny hands reaching out toward me. I tried to rid myself of these infantile phantoms, but I could not, and I suddenly felt quite ill.

“We shall need many more in our next delivery,” Max told the creature, who began to babble on about the problems of this request, but was halted mid-sentence when Maximilian wheeled about and grabbed me, saying my name over and over. He disappeared amidst the snowstorm of white dots that littered my vision, however, and I collapsed upon the floor.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a bright, white room. The walls dazzled me for a moment and it took my eyes and my mind time to adjust and to recognise reality. I looked slowly at the plain walls, finding myself alone upon a bed with my hands by my sides and a drip feeding liquid into my arm. This seemed quite surreal - I knew I was not ill enough to warrant this - but I resolved to stay put until someone came to me. I felt extremely tired and I thought that I may as well take advantage of the rest.

I fell back to sleep again and, when I next woke, I saw Max sat in a chair beside me. I glanced about the room - we were alone. I looked at him uncertainly, my visage undoubtedly betraying the signs of my mortification, for he first said: “Do not worry, Nadia, I am not angry with you. It cannot always be helped.”

...

I wanted to defy him, to be strong, but no, I just showed him weakness and insecurity. What indignity was this?

Thanks for the tag, that was fun! I can’t think of 5 writers to tag but off the top of my head: @feuillesmortes, @robins-treasure and @captainofthegreenpeas? Have a go if you fancy.

#memes #writerly ephemera meme

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twiceblackvelvet · 4 years

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Soulmates?

requested!

Early rises and strolls to work for the opening shift are far more pleasant than imaginable. The sun rising slowly over the horizon whilst the pathways are clear of other people and hardly any cars noisily taking up road space. It’s calming, beautiful, in fact, to see the change in hues in the sky from a deep orange to a lighter yellow once it’s high enough above everything else. A camera roll full of pictures taken with the beams blazing down could never possibly do it justice, but it does help take off some of the chills during the winter months just looking at them.

It’s quite an easy job, truth be told, the only complication that ever presents itself is through difficult customers and they are few and far between thankfully. Doing the rounds to turn on all of the appliances and the fridge lights is a welcomed routine compared to the never-ending cleaning that comes with a closing shift. It should be a world record how long it takes to hoover the floors, mop them, and then try not to mess up all of that hard work by creating a shoe path through the wet flooring.

For the last six months, Mina has been working at the convenience store, and taking on every single shift her schedule will allow whilst still trying to continue her studies. Serving customers isn’t the be-all and end-all but she is grateful to have been offered the position with no experience in hospitality whatsoever. The owners had recently had to let go of one of their original employees after he was caught taking money from the register thus she was hired before even sitting the interview out of desperation to replace him.

Whilst there are a few customers who are tough to deal with, there are also the locals who are always full of small snippets about their lives, or, will simply offer a courteous smile if their own day is not going as planned. Her favorite, however, is watching all the young and in love couples enter the store together, there’s something about watching their small yet romantic gestures toward one another, and whilst the green-eyed monster known as jealousy would rear its head for anyone else, Mina merely longs to feel what they are one day with her true love.

A soulmate is a difficult thing to explain to anyone which is why it is taught and told from such a young age. The idea that there is one single individual wandering this Earth who is meant to be just as in love with you as you are them, and no one else seems unreasonable or forceful at best. Every relationship in life is significant and can work if each of you put in the work to make sure that it lasts. Just look at how often people will get attached to celebrity relationships, only for them to break up a few years down the line and people are convinced love isn’t real. In fact, there are many people during her life who have told her it was a crazy idea to hold out for ‘the one’.

However, Mina has always been a hopeless romantic and never been able to grasp the concept of dating multiple people when there is a very clear sign on her right hand linking her to the one she’s meant to be with. The one who will offer her a tingling feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever they exchange so much as a glance. The one who she’ll meet for the first time and something inside of her will click, telling her that they are the one for her. The one who will offer her endless reassurance whenever things in life get difficult. She’s always wanted it all, and more. But, they’ve yet to enter her life and whisk her off her feet.

Her mother would often share tales about meeting her father when they were younger, both of them too scared to reveal their markings, both of which being on their legs in the shape of a tiny rocket, to confirm what they had believed to be true, that they are soulmates. But, one day her father invited her mother to a break from an intense study session by going into his pool. They had both completely forgotten about having not shown their markings but as it turned out, they were the exact same. It was always Mina’s favorite bedtime story to hear about how her parents fell in love with each other, their own firm belief in soulmates only furthering her desire to find her own.

There were plenty of people during her early years that Mina thought were going to be the one, and rather than following entirely in her parents’ footsteps, she’d find any excuse to look at people’s right hand, such as holding their hand as she grabbed a skipping rope from them, or even going as far as gifting the girl next door an orange every single day on the bus to school until one day she took it with her right one. All of which failed miserably but she never gave up hope that one day it would simply happen without her having to think too much about it.

A small four-leaf clover resting directly in the palm of her right hand. It’s beautiful, and Mina often finds herself tracing it back and forth whenever she’s bored. Her father had explained to her that it must mean her life with her soulmate will be full of luck, but finding them alone will require a lot of luck, Mina isn’t so sure she’ll be gifted any more beyond that.

Today is no different from every other morning shift, no one bothers to enter for at least the first hour which means restocks and ordering anything that appears to be running low. The higher shelves she has to grab the old wooden ladders from the storeroom in the back, which, she’s convinced are going to one day give way and break causing her to crash through the display behind her. However, the manager, Mr. Kim, no matter how many times she asks him to get some new ladders simply states that he’s going to soon. When soon is exactly, Mina has no idea but she doubts it will be soon.

“Is anyone working?” A high-pitched voice calls out close to the counter. From her spot on the bottom rung of the ladders, Mina can only just say make out some brown hair.

The bell for the door to signal a customer had entered has clearly not done its job as Mina quickly rushes around to see who it is that’s waiting for her. Fortunately, it isn’t one of the angry customers who no doubt would have put in a complaint about her for not being at the counter, but instead, it’s Sana who works in the coffee shop just up the street and often calls in for a morning visit when they’re both on earlies. Mina thinks Sana has a sixth sense about this because they’ve never formally exchanged schedules with one another nor do they know each other beyond each other’s respective workplaces.

Sana’s own soul mark is directly under her left eye, a small golden star with sparks flying off of it. Mina adores it and finds that it makes Sana’s already beautiful eyes even more charming to look at.

“Ah, there you are Mina. Here, I brought you your usual. If the morning is kicking my ass, I know it is for you too.” Sana says as she hands over Mina’s usual order of an americano. Her eyes look tired and Mina can tell she isn’t fully present as of yet. “What were you doing? Do you know the bell is broken?”

“Restocks,” She quickly takes a sip of the piping hot drink, Sana subconsciously doing the same but regretting it when it burns her tongue a little. “Thank you for this. It was warm out on my walk-in but those clouds look threatening.” The pair of them look out the window to see the sky now lacking the sun-flamed sky that Mina adores and replaced by dark, overcast clouds. “No, I didn’t know the bell was broken until now, it seems everything is falling apart in here.”

“Did you get your new ladders yet?”

“Nope.” Mina pauses to look back toward where they’re just standing in the middle of an aisle and gives herself a mental reminder to move them once Sana leaves. “I’m thinking about just fetching my own in from home, we’re never going to get them and now, the bell probably won’t be fixed for the foreseeable.”

Sana’s eyes follow Mina’s toward the aisles and then drift up toward the bell above the door. She places her cup down onto the counter and taps Mina’s hand to get her attention back on herself.

“Don’t bring your own. I might know someone who can bring you some and fix the doorbell, you’ll still be here at 1 PM, right?”

“Yeah, I finish at 3, but you know he’ll never agree to pay for any repairs Sana, and especially not ones he hasn’t personally authorized”

“Don’t worry about it Mina, she owes me a favor anyway. Just take it as yet another act of kindness from your favorite and prettiest barista.” Sana chortles, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Oh, Jeongyeon is going to get some new ladders for me? I didn’t realize that’s what you meant.” Mina jokes knowing just how to make Sana a little jealous.

“Very funny, you know I meant myself, not her… Though now you’ve said it, you’re right, it could have meant her.” There’s a quick flash of Sana’s eyes unfocusing and drifting off likely to thoughts of her co-worker who she’s been dating for around a year. They aren’t soulmates but Jeongyeon isn’t a believer and Sana thinks she has too much love to give for one person. However, Mina has often caught Jeongyeon tenderly stroking Sana’s soul mark whenever they believe no one is around.

“Who is it?” Mina queries upon realizing Sana never said who it was that would be her savior.

“Hm? Oh… right. Don’t worry about it, just a friend of mine who can repair it for you.” Sana quickly looks up toward the clock on the back wall and picks her cup up from the counter before shifting toward the door, bell once again not working when she opens it. “Okay, I gotta go but 1 PM, be here not hiding in an aisle, or next time I might just snitch to Mr. Kim. Bye!” She shouts heading out before Mna can say goodbye in return.

It’s a fairly easy day, the weather does indeed end up turning sour as a downpour quickly starts not long after Sana had left and doesn’t ease up even for a second. There are only a handful of customers who enter and the majority of them are simply trying to escape the rain, which Mina is supposed to ask whether they’re going to purchase anything or not but she doesn’t have the heart to force them out into the cold, thus there was at one point just a collective of people stood by the door hoping for a dry spell that never arrives. They do all fortunately shuffle off one by one, all of which running to their cars or the next building for shelter.

By the time 1 PM rolls around, Mina had completely forgotten about her conversation with Sana. The ongoing entertainment of watching people force their jackets up over their heads whilst trying not to walk into streetlights had provided enough of a distraction for her. So, when someone with their coat up over their head holding a pair of ladders enters the shop, Mina simply believes they’re a customer.

The coat comes down to rest around her shoulders and reveals a face that is small yet striking. Eyes dark and wide, nose bright red from the cold, and the rest of her skin an olive color. She’s tall, quite tall in fact as she stands above the very ladders she’s holding around her left arm. A toolkit rests in her right hand, it’s small but looks heavy, however, if it is, the girl doesn’t let on as she carries it easily. Her frame hidden by the huge coat slumped around her but Mina finds her breathtaking and can’t quite remove her eyes from her face.

“Um… hello?” The girl waves a hand in front of Mina’s face dragging her out of the hypnosis she’s sure this girl had just put her under. “Are you Mina?” Yet again, Mina drifts off elsewhere upon hearing her name exit this girl’s mouth so softly.

“Y-Yes... I am… Mina. Yes. Sorry. I’m Mina.” She stutters, quickly trying to make even a slight bit of sense.

“Yeah, I got it the first time. Sana told me you need some ladders and your doorbell is broke?” The girl poses as a question but quickly gets to work looking at the doorbell which isn’t far away from her head but Mina would struggle to get anywhere close to reaching it. “Those are yours, by the way.” She points toward the ladders. They’re brand new, metal. Far sturdier than the wooden ones.

“Thank you, um…” Mina hesitates, realizing she hadn’t asked for the girl’s name as of yet, nor did Sana tell her who she was.

“Tzuyu.” She states flatly, never bothering to look back toward Mina whose eyes are piercing through the back of Tzuyu’s head never moving.

It doesn’t take her long to fix the doorbell. The batteries inside had managed to corrode and damaged some of the inner-wirings but luckily, Tzuyu had some spare on hand in her toolbox and got it back to signaling the door opening and closing in no time. Mina has no idea what Tzuyu has just technically done as she’s never been the most gifted when it comes to repairs, however, watching her weave the wiring together and connect all of the pieces back together certainly looked impressive.

There’s an awkward silence for a second as Tzuyu steps away from the door to finally look at Mina once again, neither of them knowing how to finish off this unpaid transaction of services.

“Um… Thank you,” Mina starts, but is unsure how to continue, just knows that she wants to continue talking. “So, Sana said you’re doing this as a favor to her?” Mina tries to ask, Tzuyu, however, moves to retrieve her toolkit from the ground.

“Yes. She’s a good friend.” Tzuyu says coldly, turning toward the door to leave but then swiftly back to the counter. “It was… It was nice to meet you, Mina.” Her voice more upbeat this time, yet forced as she outstretches her right hand in front of Mina.

Without hesitating, Mina grasps her hand in her own in a handshake. However, her skin immediately feels an electric shock the second their palms connect with one another, and Mina is stunned into just standing there frozen. Tzuyu is the first to pull her hand away which startles Mina back to reality realizing she wasn’t alone in feeling it. But, before she’s given the opportunity to talk to the girl in front of her the small four-leaf clover resting in the center of Tzuyu’s palm quietens any words that were close to escaping leaving them stuck in her throat.

Tzuyu catches sight of Mina’s same soul mark and immediately rushes out of the door and away from her without a word.

A big part of Mina is telling her not to be stupid, telling her not to risk her job by chasing after her and potentially being seen as a weird stalker. However, the other side that desperately wants to figure out if this moment is the one she’s been searching for, the one she’s been seeking since the very first time she was even told about soulmates. With the consequences for her actions at the very back of her head, she dashes out of the door following Tzuyu and runs to catch up with her, stopping outside of the coffee shop where Sana works as she grabs onto Tzuyu’s arm to stop her, the same shock feeling coursing across her skin as she does so.

“You have it too and you feel it. Tell me… that you feel that.” Mina huffs out, breath struggling to catch up to her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tzuyu blurts out hurriedly upon noticing some eyes starting to watch on, her own eyes refusing to look at Mina. “Let me go.”

“No, I know you feel it. I saw you pull away just before… and you have the same mark like me. You know what this means, right?”

The silence between them returns as both Sana and Jeongyeon exit the coffee shop together to watch the interaction between the two girls unfold, a few people stop in the middle of the street to eavesdrop in, one of them even pulling out their phone to record it. Jeongyeon moves to ask them to put their phone away and they reluctantly comply.

“Is everything okay, Mina?” Sana asks.

“Yes, Sana, everything is fine.” Tzuyu answers for her. “Go back inside.”

The two girls shuffle back into the coffee shop, however, they remain by the door just in case whatever is happening between Mina and Tzuyu goes further downhill than it clearly already is even if neither of them will say why.

“Please, just say something… I know you have it too.”

“Look, Mina… I don’t know what kind of fantasy world you’ve created for yourself inside your head that you so clearly live in… but just because you have the same tiny little mark as someone doesn’t mean anything. Yes, everyday people rely on such a silly little thing to determine their entire lives, and good for them if that’s what they want. But it isn’t for me. You’re not for me.” Tzuyu’s voice cold and without any emotion whatsoever, and yet Mina can feel every single emotion inside herself all at once fighting for dominance over which one will retort back to her.

“But…” Mina barely whispers, unable to form a full sentence.

“But nothing, we just met.. You can’t really believe that we’re now supposed to spend the rest of our lives together because of that one single moment.” Tzuyu pauses, waiting to see if Mina will answer before continuing when she doesn’t. “Plus… I already… I already have a girlfriend.”

For the first time in her life, doubt about who she is supposed to spend her life with has managed to creep up and break down all of the previous standards for love Mina had put. Her hand uncurls itself from around Tzuyu’s arm and she sinks down to the floor because she’s right. All this time, Mina thought that having a soulmate or one set person who you’re supposed to always be with was how life is supposed to be, giving it far too much control and power over her to the point where she has likely pushed away plenty of others who would have no doubt made her happy, made her fall in love, and made her look forward to her future.

Instead, she’s given all of the power and control to someone she hadn’t even met yet. Now that she has, she realizes her mistake because Tzuyu could never be the one for her, even if the mark is there. They are not compatible whatsoever, not at this moment. Perhaps, during different times in their lives, they could be perfect for one another, and perhaps they could live out all of the things Mina has dreamed about. But Tzuyu is taken, and Mina is too much of a fantasist.

Mina can feel Sana and Jeongyeon slowly raise her up off the ground, however, her entire focus is on Tzuyu’s retreating figure walking away from her down the street. She can hear them talking to her and asking what has happened but her throat is unable to produce sound. Everything feels so cold and as if she’s surrounded by emptiness.

Perhaps, there is no such thing as soulmates after all. Perhaps, there never will be.

#twice imagines #twice scenarios #mina imagines #tzuyu imagines #mitzu #mina x tzuyu #kpop imagines #girl group imagines #kpop scenarios #girl group scenarios #twice angst #twice fic #mina #tzuyu #myoui mina #chou tzuyu

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aaluminiumas · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas Chopper

Time flows differently at sea, especially on the Grand Line: the weather in this part of the world never followed the ordinary calendar people had outside the ocean, so a blizzard in the middle of the summer wouldn’t surprise anyone. The climate depended on the island itself, and the inhabitants stuck to their specific routine maintained throughout the years: the holidays of the Fish-Men didn’t coincide with those of the Minks thus a lucky traveler may get a chance to become acquainted with rituals and traditions of all races.

The Straw Hat Pirates had already seen a lot. That’s why Nami yearning for Christmas she last celebrated a couple of years ago, made sure that the ship steered for another Winter Island and then ordered to throw a real party. Initially, only two latched on the idea: Sanji who agreed to do anything offered by Nami, and Robin, as usual peacefully calm, whose multiple hands immediately embarked to festoon Sunny. Luffy seemed to worried about one thing only – whether they were going to have meat; Zoro followed his Captain’s suit and asked about drinks – again, following Luffy’s suit, he got punched in the head and crawled away with gloomy grumbling. As a result of the powerful blow, the swordsman deigned to hang a garland over his mat on the deck. Sanji waspishly advised not to remove it in the future in order to define the borders of the improvised botanical garden and what is the vantage point to feast the eyes upon the ugliest plant.

While Brook, Usopp and Franky were trying to part the fighters to the rippling laughter of their Captain, Chopper took advantage of the common turmoil and ran over to Nami. He had first-hand knowledge of Christmas: as resident of a Winter Island, he often celebrated the holiday. Even when other reindeer atrociously lambasted him, he kept believing in miracles and never doubted Santa and his presents. However, the presents weren’t the main concern: absolutely unspoiled, he was waiting for some other guest – the red-nosed reindeer, Rudolph, who was claimed to have been mocked himself. Since childhood he swore he would stay up till morning to see Santa and his famous sleigh; he was sure he would talk to Rudolph in the animal language asking how he managed to take the lead, to turn his flaw into an assert and to overcome the sneers. Unfortunately, Chopper kept falling asleep – and woke up with bitter frustration written upon the snout. Later in the morning he disappeared in his lab and crammed another book borrowed from shrewd Kureha who unexpectedly failed to grasp what ate him away every winter so desperately.

Nami wasn’t paying attention to the skirmish between the cook and the swordsman: she continued decorating her tangerine trees and enlaced the boughs with colored garlands even though they hadn’t yet reach the island.

“Nami,” Chopped called in a low voice awkwardly tapping his hooves against each other and snuffling, “Is… Santa coming to us?”

Puzzled by the question, the navigator nodded.

“Of course, Chopper. Santa comes to all good kids… and adults. To the bad ones too,” she narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips and slowly turned her head in the direction of the bickering friends. “But there is not enough coal for those in the whole world. It’s easier to send them to a mine.”

“Are there deer, too?” he went on, still meek and at the same time more enthusiastic. “Or is he traveling by ship? He can’t get here by his sleigh, right?..”

Nami looked at him, clearly perplexed: she wasn’t ready for such questions; practically deprived of childhood herself, she never had illusions as to Santa’s personality but the girl didn’t venture to shatter her friend’s faith in this mythological figure. To her Christmas was a day when she could finally express her gratitude and affection towards all the crew members (and to get a nice present for her outstanding navigation skills) but for Chopper it was an evening of miracles and didn’t want to wreck it all.

“Doctor-san,” Robin suddenly came to rescue with her low voice pierced with confidence, “his sleigh runs across the sky, not by the sea. Why would he need a ship if it is safer to travel above multiple dangers of the Grand Line?”

The archeologist’s words mollified the reindeer: his large woeful eyes beamed in a heartbeat. If Nami was able to fib a little, Robin would rather remain silent or elude.

“Don’t you happen to know,” Chopper hesitated for another moment rattling his hooves again, “when is he coming? I would… I would love to just have a peep… at Rudolph. I heard that he was… different from others. Just like me. But I have a blue nose…”

Even if Robin was taken aback, she didn’t reveal her astonishment in the slightest: her face remained serene and tranquil. With a small apologetic smile upon the lips, the woman shook her head and adorned his tiny antlers with a garland interwoven with a sparkling tinsel.

“Unfortunately, Doctor-san, I cannot give you a proper answer to that. The number of good kids changes from year to year, and he has to pay a visit to them all. But I am certain this time he will stay a little longer: after all, you have done so many good things that you deserve a special present.”

Encouraged by the praise, Chopper was about to start dancing: the reindeer still couldn’t get used to the fact that he was genuinely loved and cherished even though aloof and unsociable Law tended to commend him every once in a while. And if Nami expressed her emotions in quite a ribald way, Robin tried to find the right approach to everyone not resorting to punches and manipulations – even a rejection didn’t sound adamant though her voice was always firm.

“Then,” the doctor scratched his blue nose, “If you see him… can you please wake me up? I promise not to fall asleep but,” here he got embarrassed completely, “Every year I just pass out and… I would love to…”

“Of course Doctor-san,” Robin interrupted him soflty, “We’ll be on guard.”

“Don’t worry Chopper,” Nami bolstered her friend, “A mouse won’t slip by Zoro, let alone an old man with a flock of deer. We’ll take care of it!”

As soon as their inspired friend rushed to his little laboratory equipped with all the necessary things for his endless experiments, Nami crossed her arms in the chest staring at Robin with a suspicious grimace on the visage.

“I certainly love your idea,” she muttered in a low voice, “But what is that you suggest us doing? We cannot steal a deer, put a red nose on it and introduce it as Rudolph. I couldn’t even think that he’s so…”

“Flustered? Excited? This is quite obvious,” the woman adjusted a glossy purple ball on the tangerine branch so its ribbon didn’t cover the image. “He doesn’t really have someone… to share his experience with. Whether we want it or not, we… do not fully understand him.”

“So what are we supposed to do? To turn ourselves into deer?” said Nami sarcastically. “Can’t even imagine myself… this way. I’m no doe. What kind of doe… would I be?..”

“The most beautiful doe in the world, Nami-swan! You will be the most charming female deer in th–”

Robin chuckled: Sanji didn’t manage to accomplish his laudatory ode as he got maimed which nonetheless failed to cool him down.

“You’re just in time, Sanji-kun,” the woman smiled thus provoking another bout of jitter. “Do you know the legend about Rudolph the Deer?”

Soon enough the whole crew began to arrange the Christmas party for Chopper. Nami, as usual, was in charge: she succeeded to draw attention to the discussion by heavy blows and threatening stares while Robin put forward various proposals that seemed suitable. Luffy only comprehended that Chopper ‘had some wrong Christmas’ and offered to pile the deer with presents but the idea implying a thousand of meat dishes didn’t sit well with the rest of the crew. Zoro supported his Captain on the topic of presents but added on his own behalf: let the swirlybrow make a present to them all by locking himself up in the kitchen throughout the celebration. Sanji pledged to cut the swordsman in pieces and feed seagulls, deprecated. Brook proposed to compose a song – and Robin’s hands writing down more or less reasonable suggestions, started jotting something in her notebook.

“Why not write him a letter?” exclaimed Usopp out of the blue. “It won’t replace Rudolph of course but… at least we will show we care about him.”

“And then he’ll eventually understand that Marimo is a good-for-nothing sentinel who hasn’t heard the thud of the hooves,” Sanji noticed melancholically, lighting another cigarette. “What a remarkably useless plant. Shall we toss it overboard?”

“I don’t need my swords to beat the shit out of you,” hissed Zoro flaring up. “Damn you, ero-cook!..”

It didn’t take much time to put things in apple pie order and reassert the breached discipline: Nami scattered the two in different directions, and both the swordsman and the cook rubbed their heads and squabbled in hushed voices not to instigate the navigator who seemed to like Usopp’s offer.

The preparations lasted for the whole day: Robin sneaked into the farthest corner of the deck to write the letter; Sanji wearing a funny apron garnished the desserts with cotton candy. As for Zoro, he had risked to get a carver knife between the eyes and now imitated some frenzied activity – according to the cook, it was ‘frenzied enough to outshine the quickest algae drifting with the stream’. Brook, laughing, was playing a song by ear while Usopp was wrapping the presents. Nami kept things tidy: she prevented Luffy from pushing his nose into every single box he saw. Franky, though, took care of it himself: he had cut out several wooden boxes for various trinkets. Now he improved his invention and fit locks into them – exclusively by the navigator’s request so eager to keep the spirit of Christmas. Albeit none of the tasks looked hard to finish, they appeared to be time-consuming, so none of the pirated noticed when and how the warm climate gave way to pleasant frost and slight snowfall.

Chopper went out to the deck only in the evening and started perusing snowflakes, so brittle and peculiar that they seemed to be knitted. They sank into his auburn fur and didn’t melt at all as if they morphed into a scintillating garland. Back at home they looked less fragile and yet bigger; accustomed to blizzards and cold, he learnt to ignore them and now, after all those visits to hot countries, a simply snowstorms morphed into a hibernal miracle.

He remembered the first time he saw himself in the reflection of the frozen river. He remembered his resentment for himself, that blue nose, and roared smashing whatever he could smash. He remembered how he nuzzled into white and fluffy snow hoping that the color of the nose would alter, and he, Chopper, would be just like others.

He also recollected the frosty redolence Hululuk’s fur coat exuded; he recalled Kureha’s perfume mingled with the fragrance of the wind. Her hands were always tender and smelled ice while Hululuk reminded him of the first snowflakes’ scent. It dawned upon him how much he actually could reminisce: that cheerful laughter, ridiculous stories the Doctor used to tell, and those midnight talks – they spoke about everything in the world. It was almost eternity ago when Chopper lost his best friend – and they still had so much to discuss. Hiluluk always supported him, and, probably in his own manner, taught the little reindeer to keep his head up.

“Merry Christmas,” a familiar gentle voice came; Chopper sharply turned in the direction of the sound and instantly noticed a figure he knew so well: it was a tad shorter than he remembered and moved angularly but the kind smile and warm eyes made everything clear. It was exactly the person who encouraged Chopper to become a doctor.

“Doctor Hiluluk!” the reindeer darted towards the man feeling he was barely able to squelch the tears that were about gush out from the eyes. “Doctor Hiluluk!.. How did you..? You are...”

The intruder laughed in a low tone and embraced his friend caringly.

“You’ve become so big and strong,” the doctor patted Chopper by the shoulder, “Are you happy with them?.. I’ve heard a lot about you, Chopper. I am exceedingly proud of you. You have become a talented physician. You are definitely second to none.”

The little reindeer didn’t release his friend – and almost ignored the praise. Millions of questions were swarming in his head but he didn’t hurry to ask them. Hiluluk didn’t insist on a decent conversation: he kept smiling looking at the reindeer cursing himself for the cruelty he had shown in the past. How could throw him out sugarcoating his atrocity and calling it care? Why didn’t he tell the truth letting Chopper make his own decision whether to stick around or to deal with his own life? Yes, that notorious quack felt ashamed and couldn’t disappoint his friend, but at the moment, after all those years, he finally realized that it may have been the only blunder he regretted so much. If he could turn back time, nothing of it would have happened.

“They do love you,” the guest drawled squatting before Chopper. “And protect you too. I am glad to know that you have found a family… despite everything. I am so sorry that I cannot be near.”

“But you are here!” the reindeer exclaimed blinking his watery eyes. “I’ll introduce you to my nakamas. They’ll like, I assure you! Sanji will cook the pies you are so fond of, Brook will sing for you, you’ll talk to Robin and–”

With a sad smile on the lips Hiluluk shook his head.

“Alas, it won’t do.” He sighed heavily. “You have a different life now… But,” he straightened up, “I have a little surprise for you, Chopper. I know who you are waiting for. Unfortunately, he cannot…”

Robin’s soft hand touched the glossy fur. Flummoxed, Nami noticed that Chopper finally awoke and placed a small box near the adoze reindeer: it was different from those that Franky had created. This one had incised ornaments and a carving of a certain mushroom on the lid. Still sleepy, Chopper kept staring at the present: did someone do that specifically for him?

“Open it, Doctor-san. This undoubtedly belongs to you.”

Robin’s honeyed mellow voice seemed to have pushed him, and the little hooves lifted the lid. Inside, there was a handful of pink powder – the same powder his friend had been working on, – and a letter with a stamp of a deer hoof. The whole crew gathered around: Usopp failed to wake him up, and panicked alarming the rest – even Zoro, normally apathetic and detached, scowled and rushed to rescue.

The whole ship was emblazoned and festooned. Nami had cleared the place underneath her tangerines, and now neatly wrapped presents were peacefully lying there revealing the cards written in Usopp’s and Franky’s untidy yet diligent hands. Sanji was serving cocoa with little cloud of marshmallow. Exclusively for Chopper he had created rosy petals of cotton candy. Robin, normally calm, adjusted bows, knots and decorations striving to make everything look like a picture. The evergreen lawn where the crew used to sprawl and relax, turned white: no one even tried to get rid of the glistening snow which reflected all Sunny’s embers and glimmers.

“Merry Christmas, Chopper,” Nami flashed him a broad smile.

“Merry Christmas!” shouted both Zoro and Sanji and looked daggers at each other.

“Su-u-u-u-u-u-per-r-r-r-r Christmas!” Franky struck a pose raising both his arms in the air.

“Mefwy Fuwissmas!” pronounced Luffy proudly munching on the ham he’d just stolen from the kitchen. A sound of Sanji’s powerful kick muffled another sentence he was about to utter.

“We love you, Chopper!” candidly declared Usopp.

“Yo-ho-ho-ho-ho!.. Merry Christmas, Chopper-san. Thank you for suturing our wounds! Though… yo-ho-ho… I don’t have skin to be sutured! Yo-ho-ho-ho-ho!”

The little reindeer sniveled. Probably he should let his past go – to let it get dispersed in a blur of pink petals.

#one piece #OP #merry christmas #christmas #xmas #chopper #hiluluk #dr. hiluluk #nami #luffy #zoro #sanji #robin #franky #brook #usopp #mugiwara kaizoku #mugiwarapirates #straw hat pirates

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vajranam · 3 years

Text

Milarepa

The story of how Jetsun Milarepa followed Marpa of Lhodrak.

In the region of Ngari Gungthang, there lived a rich man by the name of Mila Sherab Gyaltsen. This man had a son and a daughter, and it was the son, whose name was Mila Thopa-ga, "Mila Joy to Hear," who was to become Jetsun Milarepa. When the two children were still small, their father died. Their uncle, whose name was Yungdrung Gyaltsen, appropriated all their wealth and possessions. The two children and their mother, left with neither food nor money, were forced to undergo many hardships. Mila learned the arts of casting spells and making hailstorms from the magicians Yungton Throgyal of Tsang and Lharje Nupchung, and brought about the death of his uncle's son and daughter-in-law together with thirty-three other people by making the house collapse. When all the local people turned angrily against him, he caused such a hailstorm that the hail lay on, the ground as deep as three courses of a clay wall (about 3 meters).

Afterwards, repenting his misdeeds, he decided to practise Dharma. Taking the advice of Lama Yungton, he went to see an adept of the Great Perfection by the name of Rongton Lhaga, and asked him for instruction.

"The Dharma I teach," the Lama replied, "is the Great Perfection. Its root is the conquest of the beginning, its summit the conquest of attainment and its fruit; the conquest of yoga. If one meditates on it during the day, one can become Buddha that same day; if one meditates on it during the night, one can become Buddha that very night. Fortunate beings whose past actions have created suitable conditions do not even need to meditate; they will be liberated simply by hearing it. Since it is a Dharma for those of eminently superior faculties, I will teach it to you.”

After receiving the empowerments and instructions, Mila thought to himself, "It took me two weeks to obtain the main signs of success at casting spells. Seven days were enough for making hail. Now here is teaching even easier than spells and hail-if you meditate by day you become a Buddha that day; if you meditate by night you become a Buddha that night-and if your past actions have created suitable conditions, you don't even need to meditate at all! Seeing how I met this teaching, I obviously must be one of the ones with good past actions."

So he stayed in bed without meditating, and thus the practitioner and the teaching parted company.

“It is true what you told me," the lama said to him after a few days. “You really are a great sinner, and I have praised my teaching a little too highly. So now I will not guide you. You should go to the hermitage of Trowolung in Lhodrak, where there is a direct disciple of the Indian siddha Naropa himself. He is that most excellent of teachers, the king of translators, Marpa. He is a siddha of the New Mantra Tradition, and is without rival throughout the three worlds. Since you and he have a link stemming from actions in former lives, go and see him!"

The sound of Marpa the Translator's name alone was enough to suffuse Mila's mind with inexpressible joy. He was charged with such bliss that every pore on his body tingled, and immense devotion swept over him, filling his eyes with tears. He set off, wondering when he would meet his teacher face to face. Now, Marpa and his wife had both had many extraordinary dreams, and Marpa knew that Jetsun Mila was on his way.

He went down the valley to await his arrival, pretending to be just ploughing a field. Mila first met Marpa's son, Tarma Dode, who was tending the cattle. Continuing a little further, he saw Marpa, who was ploughing. The moment Mila caught sight of him, he experienced tremendous, inexpressible joy and bliss; for an instant, all his ordinary thoughts stopped. Nonetheless, he did not realize that this was the lama in person, and explained to him that he had come to meet Marpa.

“I’ll introduce you to him myself," Marpa answered him. "Plough this field for me." Leaving him a jug of beer, he went off. Mita, draining the jug to the last drop, set to work. When he had finished, the lama's son came to call him and they set off together.

When Mila was brought into the lama's presence, he placed the soles of Marpa's feet upon the crown of his head and cried out, "Oh, Master! I am a great sinner from the west! I offer you my body, speech and mind. Please feed and clothe me and teach me the Dharma. Give me the way to become Buddha in this life!"

"It's not my fault that you reckon you're such a bad man," Marpa replied."I didn't ask you to pile up evil deeds on my account! What is all this wrong you have done?" Mila told him the whole story in detail.

"Very well," Marpa acquiesced, "in any case, to offer your body, speech and mind is a good thing. As to food, clothing and Dharma, however, you cannot have all three. Either I give you food and clothing and you look for Dharma elsewhere, or you get your Dharma from me and look for the rest somewhere else. Make up your mind. And if it's the Dharma you choose, whether or not you attain Buddhahood in this lifetime will depend on your own perseverance.”

"If that is the case," said Mila, "since I came for the Dharma, I will look for provisions and clothing elsewhere.”

He stayed a few days and went out begging through the whole of upper and lower Lhodrak, which brought him twenty-one measures of barley. He used fourteen of them to buy a four-handled copper pot. Placing six measures in a sack, he went back to offer that and the pot to Marpa. When he set the barley down, it made the room shake. Marpa got up.

"You're a strong little monk, aren't you?" he said."Are you trying to kill us all by making the house fall down with your bare hands? Get that sack of barley out of here!" He gave the sack a kick, and Mila had to take it outside. Later on he gave Marpa the empty pot.

One day Marpa said to him: "The men of Yamdrok Taklung and Lingpa are attacking many of my faithful disciples who come to visit me from U and Tsang, and stealing their provisions and offerings. Bring hailstorms down on them! Since that is a kind of Dharma too, I will give you the instructions afterwards."

Mila caused devastating hailstorms to fall on both these regions and then went to ask for the teachings.

“You think I'm going to give you the teachings I brought back from India at such great cost in exchange for three or four hailstones? If you really want the Dharma, cast a spell on the hill-folk of Lhodrak. They attack my disciples from Nyaloro and are always treating me with downright contempt. When there is a sign that your spell has worked, I shall give you Naropa's oral instructions, which lead to Buddhahood in a single lifetime and body."

When the signs of the success of the evil spell appeared, Mila asked for the Dharma.

"Huh! Is it perhaps to pay honour to your accumulation of evil deeds that you are claiming to want these oral instructions that I had to search for, never considering the risk to my own body and life-these instructions still warm with the breath of the dakinis? I suppose you must be joking, but I find this a bit too much. Anyone else but me would kill you! Now, bring those hill people back to life and return to the people of Yamdrok their harvest. You'll get the teachings if you do-otherwise, don't hang around me anymore!"

Mila, utterly shattered by these reprimands, sat and wept bitter tears. The next morning, Marpa came to see him. "I was a bit rough with you last night," he said."Don't be sad. I will' give you the instructions little by little. Just be patient! Since you're a good worker, I'd like you to build me a house to give to Tarma Dode. When you've finished, I'll give you the instructions, and provide you with food and clothing as well.”

"But what will I do if I die in the meantime, without the Dharma?” Mila asked. “I’ll take the responsibility of making sure that doesn't happen," Marpa said. "My teachings are not just idle boasting, and since you obviously have extraordinary perseverance, when you put my instructions into practice we will see if you can attain Buddhahood in a single lifetime." After further encouragement in the same vein, he had Mila build three houses one after the other: a circular one at the foot of the eastern hill, a semicircular one in the west and a triangular one in the north. But each time, as soon as the house was half finished, Marpa would berate Mila furiously, and make him demolish whatever he had built and take all the earth and stones he had used back to where he had found them. An open sore appeared on Mila's back, but he thought, "If I show it to the Master, he will only scold me again. I could show it to his wife but that would just be making a fuss." So, weeping, but not showing his wounds, he implored Marpa's wife to help him request the teachings.

She asked Marpa to teach him, and Marpa replied, "Give him a good meal and bring him here!" He gave Mila the transmission and vows of refuge.

"All this," he said, "is what is called the basic Dharma. If you want the extraordinary instructions of the Secret Mantrayana, the sort of thing you'll to have to go through is this... "and he recounted a brief version of the life and trials of Naropa. "It'll be difficult for you to do the same," he concluded.

At these words Mila felt such intense devotion that his tears flowed freely, and with fierce determination he vowed to do whatever his teacher asked of him. A few days later, Marpa went for a walk and took Mila with him as his attendant. He went south-east and, coming to a favorably situated piece of ground, he said, "Make me a grey, square tower here, nine storeys’ high. With a pinnacle on top, making ten. You won't have to take this building down, and when you've finished I'll give you the instructions. I'll also give you provisions when you go into retreat to practise.”

Mila had already dug the foundations and started building when three of his teacher's more advanced pupils came by. For fun, they rolled up a huge stone for him and Mila incorporated it in the foundations. When he had finished the first• two storeys, Marpa came to see him and asked him where the stone in question had come from. Mila told him what had happened. "My disciples practising the yoga of the two phases shouldn't be your servants!" Marpa yelled. "Get that stone out of there and put it back where it came from!"

Mila demolished the whole tower, starting from the top. He pulled out the big foundation stone and took it back to where it had come from. Then Marpa told him, "Now bring it here again and put it back in. " So Mila hauled it back to the site and put it in just as before. He went on building until he had finished the seventh storey, by which time he had an open sore on his hip.

"Now leave off building that tower," Marpa said, "and instead build me a temple, with a twelve-pillared hall and a raised sanctuary.”

So Mila built the temple, and by the time he had finished, a sore had broken out on his lower back.

At that time, Meton Tsonpo of Tsangrong asked Marpa for the empowerment of Samvara, and Tsurton Wange of Dol asked for the empowerment of Guhyasamaja. On both occasions, Mila, hoping that his building work had earned him the right to empowerment, took his place in the assembly, but all he received from Marpa were blows and rebukes and he was thrown out both times. His back was now one huge sore with blood and pus running from three places. Nevertheless, he continued working, carrying the baskets of earth in front of him instead.

When Ngokton Chodor of Shung came to ask for the Hevajra empowerment, Marpa's wife gave Mila a large turquoise from her own personal inheritance. Using it as his offering for the empowerment, Mila placed himself among row of candidates but, as before, the teacher scolded him and gave him a thrashing, and he did not receive the empowerment. This time he felt that there was no further doubt: he would never receive any teachings. He wandered off in no particular direction.

A family in Lhodrak Khok hired him to read the Transcendent Wisdom in Eight Thousand Verses. He came to the story of Sadaprarudita, and that made him think. He realized that, for the sake of the Dharma, he must accept all hardships and please his teacher by doing whatever he ordered.

So he returned, but again Marpa only welcomed him with abuse and blows. Mila was so desperate that Marpa's wife sent him to Lama Ngokpa, who gave him some instructions. But when he meditated nothing came of it, since he had not received his teacher's consent. Marpa ordered him to go back with Lama Ngokpa, and then to return. One day, during a feast offering, Marpa severely reprimanded Lama Ngokpa and some other disciples and was about to start beating them. Mila thought to himself, "With my evil karma, not only do l myself suffer because of my heavy faults and dense obscurations, but now I am also bringing difficulties on Lama Ngokpa and my Guru's consort. Since I am just piling up more and more harmful actions without receiving any teaching, it would be best if I did away with myself."

He prepared to commit suicide. Lama Ngokpa was trying to stop him when Marpa calmed down and summoned them both. He accepted Mila as a disciple, gave him much good advice and named him Mila Dorje Gyaltsen, "Mila Adamantine Victory Banner."As he gave him the empowerment of Samvara; he made the mandala of its sixty-two deities clearly appear. Mila then received the secret name of Shepa Dorje, "Adamantine Laughter," and Marpa conferred all the empowerments and instructions on him just like the contents of one pot being poured into another. Afterwards, Mila practised in the hardest of conditions, and attained all the common and supreme accomplishments.

The trials that Milarepa had to undergo before receiving the teachings from Marpa, as well as being a purification of past Karma, an accumulation of merit and a psychological preparation, also had a bearing on the future of his lineage, each detail having a symbolic significance which, by the principle of interdependence would affect Milarepa’s own future and that of his disciples.

~H.H. Patrul Rinpoche from the text Words of My Perfect Teacher.

#wisdom #spirituality #mindfulness #meditation #religion #buddhism #zen #self care #visualization #tibet

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

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(未定事件簿) EVENT!「午夜华章」 [Tears of Themis] EVENT: Symphony of the Night Translations (Chapter 1-01: Prologue)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *The tracking tag for ALL Event Stories will go under: #Tears of an Event *(y/n) is your name when in direct referral; otherwise referred to as MC. *Presenting: 10 pages of prologue content (cracks fingers)

Location: Detective Agency

The winter sun shone into Xia Yan’s office, but I couldn’t feel even the slightest bit of warmth from it.

Now, Xia Yan was beside me with a frown on his face as we both stared intently at what he was holding in his hand…

???: Listen well, Great Detective and partner… This will be your last chance.

A voice that had been processed by a voice-changer came from the strange box that he held within his palm, holding absolutely no trace of emotion at all.

???: If you cannot help me complete this commission of mine by finding the missing hacker within the specified time limit…

???: I will immediately launch an attack on the Big Data Lab, which will paralyze Stellis City’s entire network.

The voice cut off here, ending spontaneously, leaving me facing Xia Yan, who had a look of utter seriousness on his face.

Xia Yan had received a commission last evening. The Client came oddly in the form of a box, and the details of the commission were all also transmitted to him through the very same box itself. Knowing how I loved puzzles, Xia Yan had invited me to investigate it together with him. But who knew that this commission also came with a threat.

The Big Data Lab would come under fire if we failed to complete the commission… The Client had repeatedly emphasized on that point without providing us with any other explanation.

Xia Yan: Since you’ve already come to us with a commission, then how about you tell us about everything clearly? Who exactly is this hacker you’re searching for…?

Bzzt, bzzt―—

The phone that I had left on the table buzzed to life. Seeing the Caller ID flashing upon the screen, Xia Yan stopped questioning the box.

MC: Lu Jinghe? Didn’t he say that he had a whole day of meetings with the Board of Directors? Why is he suddenly calling now…?

Xia Yan: ...I have a bad feeling about this. In any case, let’s answer his call first.

I nodded and answered the call.

Lu Jinghe: (Y/n), I heard yesterday that you were going to the Detective Agency to play. Are you still there now?

MC: I am. Did something happen?

Lu Jinghe: Could you pass the phone to Xia Yan?

He wants to talk to Xia Yan? I paused for a moment, looking towards the guy in question.

Xia Yan nodded, signaling for me to put the call on speaker.

Xia Yan: Lu Jinghe, has there been any problems with the Big Data Lab recently?

Lu Jinghe: What a direct question. Looks like you do know something about this after all.

Lu Jinghe: The Big Data Lab has been harassed by hackers a couple of times recently. The engineers there have just warded off another attack just now.

Xia Yan: Why are you looking for me? Is it because you feel like I’ve done something similar, and thus, being the first one on your list of suspected people?

Lu Jinghe: ...If you absolutely have to put it that way, well, you’re not exactly wrong either.

Lu Jinghe: But, what I’m more worried about is the fact that this isn’t an attack by just a single person, but rather, an organized large-scale attack.

Lu Jinghe: If this is the case, then we can only rely on the personnel currently stationed there. But I’m afraid it’ll be hard to ward them off with just that amount of manpower.

Lu Jinghe: So, I was thinking of asking you for some recommendations of experts in this field. Even better if they’re open to external contracts.

Xia Yan: So that’s how it really is after all… If I’m not guessing wrongly, I think that this has something to do with the current commission I’m undertaking.

Xia Yan: This matter involves the entire Stellis City Network, and it’s not something that any one of us can handle on our own.

Xia Yan: Can we call a full NXX Member Meeting at once? I’ll explain everything then.

Lu Jinghe: Yes. You and (Y/n) head to the Base first, I’ll notify the other two.

Ending the call, Xia Yan’s gaze fell to the box by his hand once more, his expression solemn.

MC: Xia Yan, does this mean that something serious has happened for you to be calling everyone together to investigate this?

Xia Yan: Yes. Even though everything still looks peaceful now, I have a hunch that…

Xia Yan: This commission that was headed by a threat must be much more complicated than we think it is.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

One hour later, at NXX’s Base.

Location: NXX Base’s Meeting Room

Mo Yi: So? The Client oddly came to you in the form of a box that cannot be pried open and even threatened the one who’s taking on the job for them, all just to find a single missing person?

Xia Yan: The Client has repeatedly emphasized on the fact that this matter cannot be let known to the public. I suspect the missing hacker must have come upon something dangerous.

Lu Jinghe: No matter how dangerous it might be, they should have been prepared for some leaks to happen when requesting for outside help. Using the Big Data Lab as a threat is just too unreasonable…

Zuo Ran: How serious were the attacks on the Big Data Lab so far?

Lu Jinghe: Even I can’t explain this properly, myself. But I’ve found a helper who’s very good at this aspect of things, so it’ll be more reliable to let him do all the explaining.

Saying so, he booted up NXX Base’s computer.

After inputting in a series of commands, he turned on the projection device, and a figure slowly formed before us.

MC: Huh? Aren’t you…

Chu Dai: Hello, I am Chu Dai, the Big Data Lab’s exclusive AI. I'm pleased to be of service to you.

I was stunned for a while at seeing the AI boy who I only saw on my phone, the one who loved leaving interesting evaluations on encyclopedia entries, appearing before my very eyes.

MC: You’re Chu Dai?

Chu Dai: I am! I can always talk to you like this if you prefer this form of mine more~

Lu Jinghe: Chu Dai, report on the current status of the hacker attacks on the Big Data Lab.

Chu Dai’s expression turned sullen upon the mention of the “hacker attacks”.

Chu Dai: Yes, leave it to me to explain that.

Chu Dai: Ever since last month, the Big Data Lab has been facing small-scale attacks every few days. Fortunately, they all seemed to be just testing the waters, so no real harm was done.

Chu Dai: The hackers launched yet another attack this morning. And the engineers think that they may be just buying time to analyze the Firewalls.

Chu Dai: Chu Dai has been pushing back the hacker's parsing progress, but Chu Dai thinks that they've already completed it.

Chu Dai: If there's another attack, the Firewall will have a higher than 90% chance of being broken through…

Xia Yan: This Client who's looking for a missing hacker's actually also a highly skilled hacker themselves.

Xia Yan: Based on my understanding of the warning that the Client had sent, I suspect that what the Big Data Lab has been subjected to are just pre-emptive attacks.

Lu Jinghe: You mean, he deliberately pushed the cracking process to a critical point, only to force you to complete the Commission?

Xia Yan: I'm afraid so. These attacks are simply to prove that he has the capabilities to take down the Big Data Lab.

Xia Yan: In my opinion, I think that the best way to resolve this incident would be to track down the Client before they can launch a next attack.

Mo Yi: Which mean, you intend on accepting this commission?

Zuo Ran: Buying time by accepting the commission, and then conducting reverse-tracking to locate the signal from where it was originally sent from would also be a plausible method.

Lu Jinghe: What's your stand on this, (Y/n)?

Everyone turned to look at me at his question.

⊳ Choice: Accept commission

MC: I think it'll be better if we accept this commission too.

MC: I think it's better for us to play along with the other side's tune first, until we get a full grasp of the situation. This way, we might also be able to find more clues along with our investigations.

Mo Yi: Nothing ventured, nothing gained… that's a very interesting way of thinking.

Mo Yi: I'll be very happy to accompany you, if that is your decision.

Xia Yan: Yup, I'm of the same mind too. You can rest assured on the problem of safety if we're going to be working together.

⊳ Choice: Refuse commission

MC: Logically speaking, I think that we should accept it… but personally, I still think that we should look into it a little more.

MC: We’re unable to identify the true motives of the person we’re up against at this current moment in time. And if finding the missing person’s just a guise...

Zuo Ran: So, you’re worried about what the other party’s motives are. Truth to be told, I’ve also thought about that.

Zuo Ran: But this is also the only option we have that allows us to obtain more clues. Rest assured; I’ll be accompanying you.

Lu Jinghe: And you have me too! Leave your safety to me; still worried about it, Big Sister?

Chu Dai: Yep, yep! Chu Dai will also follow the hacker's signal to its source and provide all of you with support!

Xia Yan showed everyone the box that the Client had sent by placing it atop the table.

Xia Yan: This is what the Client sent. I tried to pry it open yesterday but found that it's a complicated piece of electronic equipment that cannot be disassembled at will.

Lu Jinghe: ...It's not a bomb or anything along those lines, right?

Chu Dai: No, but it should be a device that requires special commands to open. Can you connect it to the computer? Let me try opening it.

Xia Yan connected the box to the computer with a USB cable. The projection of Chu Dai temporarily disappeared to focus on analyzing the box. We waited for about ten minutes before the box on the table snapped open with a click, opening from the gap in its center.

Lu Jinghe: Whoa! It's open?

His voice had only just faded before Chu Dai's own rang from the computer's speakers.

Chu Dai: This box is called the "Vespers' Box" —— And this is the data that the creator has placed within it.

Chu Dai: Oh yes, by the way, there's a special program installed into the "Vespers' Box" which records the first person who boots it up.

Chu Dai: But Chu Dai is definite that it won't pose any threat to anyone! So, please feel free to investigate it to your heart's content!

Everyone exchanged looks with each other, leaving Xia Yan to pick up the box. After confirming that there were really no problems with the box, he handed it to me.

Xia Yan: I see that you've been so curious about this box for a long time now, so how about you lead everyone on the investigation of this thing?

MC: Me? Are you sure about that?

I looked around, only to meet everyone's trusting eyes.

MC: Alright then… Let me check this out!

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅

MC: I just have to open the box from here, right?

Xia Yan: Yup, just flip both sides open.

Zuo Ran: Be careful while opening it since there's a delicate device inside.

MC: I won't handle it roughly… you really should have a little more faith in me, Lawyer Zuo.

Zuo Ran: ……

Zuo Ran: What I meant was...be careful not to scratch your hands from the small, intricate parts of the device.

MC: S-Sure…

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅

MC: Nine screens? Is it used to display different parts of the commission?

Mo Yi: Perhaps it has something to do with it's name of the "Vespers' Box"...? Unless, maybe it's really a commission from an undead?

Lu Jinghe: Well… don't you think this is shaped a little similar to cosmetic products and the like that girls use…?

MC: Cosmetic products for girls…? You don't look the type to be that knowledgeable about it.

Lu Jinghe: Hehe— Of course I'll pay attention to something that might be a potential present for you one day!

Chu Dai: Everyone, I've already activated the program within the "Vespers' Box". You can activate the screen to light it up by tapping on it again so please try it out!

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅

MC: Whoa… how beautiful!

Mo Yi: ...It can be regarded as an Art Masterpiece.

Chu Dai: The contents being shown on the screen are the instructions for your investigations. I'm still analyzing it so please wait for a moment.

Zuo Ran: Only one screen has been lit while the others are locked and marked by a serial number… Are these all steps dictated by the Client themselves?

MC: Looks like we can only play along with them until we manage to find them…

Lu Jinghe: Let's first discuss the countermeasures we're going to be taking while waiting for Chu Dai to decrypt it.

Xia Yan: Yup. We have to listen to what everyone thinks of this before deciding whether or not to participate in this Case.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅

We temporarily put the "Vespers' Box" aside since Chu Dai was still parsing the encrypted content on the screen.

Lu Jinghe: Let me share my opinion first. I cannot ignore it now, since this matter concerns the Big Data Lab.

Xia Yan: This person approached me by name and even threatened the Network Security of Stellis City, so I can't stand by and do nothing about it either.

Lu Jinghe: ...So you're saying that you want to settle this together too, don't you?

Xia Yan: This was originally a matter that the Client entrusted to me alone.

MC: ……

Don't we all investigate cases together all the time anyway? Why do the two of you have to be so…

MC: Then...how about we all solve it together?

Xia Yan: You want to participate too? But I'm afraid it'll affect your job…

Zuo Ran: Priorities are priorities. This issue of the "Vespers' Box" involves the Information Security of Stellis City as a whole, and thus, cannot be ignored.

Zuo Ran: (Y/n), I can give you a vacation to let you focus on this matter at hand. I will lend my aid as well.

MC: What…? Are you sure?

MC: Thank you, Lawyer Zuo!

Lu Jinghe: I knew that things would eventually turn out like this…

Mo Yi: We're all members of the same team, so it's not good to be leaving teammates behind and act on your own accord, correct?

MC: Are you joining us too Dr. Mo?

Mo Yi: Of course. I'll naturally accompany you to face this challenge that you've undertaken.

Lu Jinghe: Acting cool even in a time like this…?

Zuo Ran: How much longer till Chu Dai decrypts the tasks?

Chu Dai: Mission completed! Everyone, you can now check the tasks on the screen of the "Vespers' Box"!

Chu Dai made a re-appearance before us again as a projection after completing the decryption process.

Chu Dai: The Client has made nine task groups and will probably be giving us clues and hints on where to investigate after completing them.

Chu Dai: Actively complete the tasks set out by the Client, and you should be able to see what his true motives are soon enough!

Lu Jinghe: Complete tasks to get hints…? Does he think of this as a game?

Xia Yan: A hacker's code is unique, each to its own, like a fingerprint. It'll come a long way in helping us identify the Client if we can crack his method of compiling source codes.

Xia Yan: I'll be cooped up here most of the time from now on, using what resources we have at hand to crack the codes. I hope Chu Dai can assist me with that.

Xia Yan: This way, I can also provide remote support if the Big Data Lab faces threat again.

Lu Jinghe: No problem. I've already notified the Big Data Lab to leave enough Memory Space for Chu Dai to work with for this Case.

Chu Dai: Yup! Chu Dai's daily serviceable functions won't be affected at all, so feel free to use me to assist you in your investigations!

I felt a surge of relief upon seeing them settle the arrangements without a hitch.

MC: Please don't hesitate to tell me if there's anything I can help with! I'm still on vacation, so I my time's more flexible now.

All eyes on the floor turned to me right after the words left my mouth, making me feel oddly embarrassed out of nowhere.

MC: Don't...Don't look at me like that. I might not know much about hackers, but I'm still able to run around doing errands and investigations for clues…

Xia Yan: Actually, there's this one other important thing that only you can do. Sorry, I kept forgetting to tell you about it.

Under my curious gaze, Xia Yan took a deep breath before speaking slowly.

Xia Yan: I hope you'll take custody of the "Vespers' Box" and lead this investigation.

MC: !!!

Xia Yan: I know that this is a little risky. It was I, who received the commission, and I shouldn't have involved others who didn't have anything to do with it…

Xia Yan: But I have to stay at the Base most of the time to analyze the codes, so I had to find someone who would be able to take on the task and carry out the investigations out in the field much more conveniently.

Zuo Ran: This is too dangerous. We do not know of the reason behind the hacker's disappearance and have no way of identifying who we're up against.

Mo Yi: But her safety will be guaranteed so long as there's always someone by her side, yes?

Mo Yi smiled at me.

Mo Yi: My recent schedule is somewhat free, so I can accompany you if that's any reassurance.

MC: Huh? But wouldn't I be troubling you way too much…?

Lu Jinghe: Trouble or no trouble, I wouldn't trust someone who only wakes at 9AM to protect you.

Xia Yan: Same.

Zuo Ran: Mo Yi, I hope you'd consider the feasibility of your suggestion before putting it forth.

Mo Yi: ......

Zuo Ran: All four of us have a fixed range of activities we are involved in; be it work or investigation...

Zuo Ran: So how about we take turns to accompany her based on whose workplace is the closest when the tasks get triggered?

Zuo Ran: The "Vespers' Box" will be stored in NXX's Base after completing the daily tasks every day. This way, there'll be no need to be afraid of being tracked.

Lu Jinghe: Yes, that's certainly a good idea.

Xia Yan: I won't be careless when it comes to the problem of her safety. I'll also track and monitor her location in real time when she's out through the GPS signal beamed from her mobile.

Mo Yi: Alright. This is certainly the most efficient method we've come up with.

Chu Dai: So... have all of you decided the course of action you’ll be taking?

Chu Dai, who had been watching us all this time, seemed to have finally found an opportunity to interrupt us.

Chu Dai: Oh! Looks like you've all talked it out! (Y/n) has a very good work record! I'm sure she'll have absolutely no problem at all leading the investigation!

MC: Haha, thank you for the compliments, Chu Dai!

Chu Dai: Then next, I will be explaining the functions of the "Vespers' Box" that I've analyzed.

Chu Dai: All members of NXX, please listen carefully, for you'll be using these eventually in consequent investigations!

Everyone nodded, gathering where I was to listen to his explanation.

A heavy sense of responsibility weighed on my heart as I held the "Vespers' Box" in my hands.

MC: (Please rest assured, all of you who have placed your deep trust in me…)

MC: (I'll definitely complete this commission and find out the true colors of this mysterious Client of ours!)

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Next Part: (NXX Group Chat: Big Data Lab)

#Tears of Themis #Translations #Otome #Mihoyo #未定事件簿 #陆景和 #Lu Jinghe #左然 #Zuo Ran #夏彦 #Xia Yan #莫弈 #Mo Yi #午夜华章 #Symphony of the Night #Tears of an Event

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