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neufhistoires · 7 months

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Loveless Marriage (FrUK) Chapter 11

Loveless Marriage

Chapter 11

Word Count: 4,496

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It had been about a week since Francis and Arthur spoke. They hadn’t really seen each other either because the Englishman made sure to leave before the Frenchman woke up or he would get home so late that the other man was already asleep. On days that Arthur didn’t leave the house, he would stay in his bedroom all day and complete work from there. Francis was starting to wonder if he was a ghost, if he didn’t even exist.

It was a miserable existence, but Francis used work as a distraction. He didn’t share his frustrations or embarrassing stories with Feliciano. Instead, he pretended like nothing bad happened, like he had no life problems and he was happy to be living abroad, working at a flower shop.

Escapism worked well for Francis until he returned home each night to either be alone or be ignored– he wasn’t sure which was worse at this point. Arthur wouldn’t even eat his food anymore, and Francis honestly had no clue where or what he was eating. He couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy at the thought that the Englishman might be eating meals with someone else all day…

“How’s your fiancé?”

Francis was cutting flower stems in silence, something that he usually did while humming softly. He was working slower than usual, too, as if he was in some sort of trance, lost in deep thought about his recent misfortunes. However, he was pulled out of his thoughts when his perceptive coworker noticed a change in his body language.

“What?” Francis replied, a mix of surprise and sadness in his eyes when he heard someone bring up the very person he had been thinking about.

“You mentioned that you have a fiancé a few times before, so I was wondering how he is,” Feliciano replied softly, taking some of the flowers to help the Frenchman cut the stems.

Francis was quiet for a moment, motionless as he stared down at the stems.

“How is he..? I wonder that, too,” Francis murmured, his voice almost a whisper. Then, he suddenly returned to trimming the flower stems as if he hadn’t just froze for an abnormal amount of time.

Feliciano glanced over at the other man, who refused to make eye contact with him, with an empathetic look on his face. He wasn’t sure what happened, but he could tell that Francis was really upset because of something that happened between him and his fiancé.

“Are you two fighting..?” Feliciano asked hesitantly, hoping he was prying into his coworker’s personal life too much.

“Something like that,” Francis replied, still keeping his gaze fixated on the flowers in his hands.

“Why don’t you bring him some flowers again? I’m sure it will ease the tension between you two, at least some, and then you can talk,” Feliciano suggested.

Francis finally made eye contact with Felciano as he started to seriously ponder the Italian man’s suggestion. He knew that it wouldn’t fix everything, but like Feliciano had said, it would probably release some tension and at least break the ice…

“D’accord, I’ll take your advice,” Francis replied, smiling warmly at Feliciano, who immediately mirrored his smile.

Francis returned home with a bouquet of red roses, just like he had given Arthur last time, and carefully arranged them in the same vase from before, which was still sitting on the kitchen counter.

Arthur wasn’t home yet, but Francis decided that he would wait in the kitchen until he came home, that way he couldn’t avoid him or sneak past him.

The Frenchman prepared dinner, cooking for two even though Arthur had either been eating premade meals or someone else’s food. He figured that he would offer him dinner and roses and he wouldn’t be able to avoid talking to him for at least a little bit.

Hours passed and Francis couldn’t help but feel frustrated when he thought about how he cooked dinner for the other man but he was coming home at a terribly late time just to avoid him.

And that was exactly what happened. Francis ate dinner alone, which he let become cold because he had foolishly assumed that today might be the one day the Englishman would come home on time. After he put the leftovers away, he cleaned up the kitchen, scrubbing the counters and mopping the floor more times than it needed to be done in hopes that when Arthur came home and saw him he would just think that Francis was busy, not that he was waiting up all night for him.

Eventually, Francis sat back down at the table, exhausted and frustrated. He lay his head down on the table, telling himself that he would just rest for a second and then he would go back to finding things to clean, but… he passed out.

The quiet jingle of keys could be heard from outside, and then the front door opened. Arthur was surprised to see the kitchen light on so late. He tensed when he noticed the Frenchman sitting at the table, but then he did a double take when he realized he was passed out.

The Englishman stared at him for a few, his keys and bags still in hand as he tried to make sense of why the other man was sleeping on a kitchen chair instead of in his own bed. Then, as he glanced around the room, he noticed that the kitchen was spotless. Everything was clean and organized. The only thing that stood out was the bouquet of fresh, red roses, arranged beautifully in the intricate glass vase from before.

Arthur’s chest felt tight when he saw the flowers, recalling how Francis had bought him the same ones before. He must’ve been waiting up all night to talk to him, Arthur thought. He felt kind of guilty until he reminded himself why they weren’t speaking in the first place and his thoughts turned sour.

Carefully, Arthur slipped past the table, hoping he could avoid the other man like he had been. But, in spite of his efforts, the jingling of his keys as he passed by was enough to make the Frenchman open his eyes.

“Arthur..?” Francis called out groggily. He couldn’t believe he had stayed up so late and yet he still ended up passing out at the kitchen table, of all places.

The Englishman hesitated when he heard his name, but then continued in the other direction anyway.

“Arthur! Wait!” Francis called out, stumbling as he tried to stand up from the table after just waking up.

Arthur continued to walk away from Francis, picking up his pace some when he heard the sound of the other man’s footsteps behind him.

“We live in the same house– you can’t keep avoiding me like this..!” Francis called out, frantically chasing the Englishman up the staircase.

“It’s like I said– you disgust me and I don’t want to see or talk to you,” Arthur replied coldly as he stood still on the top step, his heart aching at the sound of his own words.

Francis felt a pain in his chest, too, when the first words out of the other man’s mouth were yet again ones of disdain. Could he truly never forgive him?

“Arthur, I want to apologize to you and–”

“No apology will fix what you did,” Arthur interrupted, abruptly turning around to face the Frenchman, a look of anger and hurt on his face as they locked eyes.

“And I want to clear up the… misunderstanding,” Francis finished his sentence anyway.

“Misunderstanding?” Arthur repeated with a sarcastic laugh.

“Oui, I…” Francis hesitated as he took a step closer to Arthur, moving up a step so they were eye level. “What happened at the hotel was…” The Frenchman’s eyes averted towards the ground.

“Yes?” Arthur urged, impatiently crossing his arms as his icy gaze never left the man across from him.

“It was meaningless. I was so drunk I can’t even remember what led to it, but I can assure you that I would never want to do something like that with you..! I mean– you and I, together in a relationship? Really? We can’t stand each other! It’s been driving me insane to think that you would even suggest that I would want to have sex with you..!” Francis blurted out, feeling like he was a star in some sort of cheesy highschool play.

He was lying through his teeth.

Arthur hadn’t moved at all, an unreadable expression on his face as he seemed to pause and contemplate what the other man just said. Francis watched the Englishman’s eyes impatiently, wondering what was going through his head, if he bought the act, or if that false information even meant anything to him.

Well, it was partially false information. It was true that Francis had been terribly drunk, that he couldn’t remember much, and that he wouldn’t force himself on Arthur. But the lie was that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with the other man. In fact, after their sham of a honeymoon getaway together, he couldn’t be anymore sure that he had feelings for the Brit.

“I wish you’d put it that way sooner,” Arthur replied, both his tone and gaze softening when he said so. Francis didn’t know if he should be relieved or heartbroken.

“The thought of you and I in a relationship is definitely laughable, isn’t it?” Arthur continued, a smile grazing his lips for the first time since they were in Seychelles.

Now he could at least identify how he felt as heartbreak.

“Oui, it’s truly a bizarre thought,” Francis replied unenthusiastically.

“Let’s put this behind us then…” Arthur started, his tone returning to a more serious one again. “But you’ve got to promise not to tell anyone what happened that night, okay? On that condition, we’ll just forget about the whole thing…”

“D’accord… I promise,” Francis agreed, trying his best to hide how deflated he suddenly felt. It was somehow a worse feeling than before, even though he was elated to talk to the other man again.

“Alright… Good night then,” Arthur replied dismissively, turning around and continuing upstairs without waiting for a response. He was probably hoping that he wouldn’t have to deal with Francis suggesting they share a bed again. Although, the Frenchman no longer had any intention of suggesting a thing like that.

Francis went to bed alone that night, conflicted about whether or not he made the right choice by lying like that. Sure, Arthur was willing to talk to him again, but at what cost..?

It was much later than Francis usually woke up, and he probably would have continued sleeping, too, if he wasn’t awoken by a few knocks on his door.

“Francis?” A familiar voice called out, causing the Frenchman to slowly open his eyes and roll over on his side.

“Come in,” Francis replied with a groan. He had slept more than usual and yet he felt even more exhausted than usual. It was most likely because despite being in bed for so long, he hadn’t truly been sleeping the entire time. He stayed up the entire night, tossing and turning as he contemplated everything wrong in his life.

Francis was disgusted by the way Arthur could destroy his entire day just by stringing a few words together. The worst part was probably that the Englishman didn’t even realize he was doing it.

Arthur opened the door, fully dressed in trousers, a button down cardigan and loafers. He looked a bit irritated when his eyes slowly made their way down to the Frenchman who was still in bed.

“I was going to… ask if you wanted to come shopping with me today in London…” Arthur said, his thick eyebrows furrowing as he realized that if the other man said yes, he would be waiting forever for him to get ready.

The Frenchman held back his surprise and… excitement when he heard what the other man proposed. Yes, the way Arthur’s words could lift his mood in an instant disgusted him, too. When did he become this way? “I guess so… You probably need someone like me to go with you so you know what kind of things to buy…” Francis mumbled into his pillow, his attempt at seeming uninterested coming off as more of an insult.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Arthur asked, his eye twitching as he leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed. He was hoping that the Frenchman would get up and start getting ready sometime this year.

“Nothing,” Francis replied with a yawn as he finally sat up.

“Well, you’ll have to be ready soon though if you’re coming. I don’t want to have to drive home in the dark,” Arthur said, standing back up straight. “I’ll make you breakfast and you can eat it on the way or something…”

“Non, please don’t,” Francis replied so quickly that Arthur couldn’t help but be a little offended. Was it really that bad?

“Just hurry up,” Arthur said, his cheeks tinged red with embarrassment as he shut the door and headed back downstairs.

Surprisingly, Francis didn’t take too long to get ready and Arthur didn’t subject him to his awful cooking. The two of them headed off for London and the skies appeared to be bright and sunny.

Understandably, there was an awkward tension between the two of them, albeit for different reasons. However, without words, they both agreed to try and make things work. They cracked jokes and passive aggressively roasted each other until they got to the city. It was as though nothing had changed between them…

“What do you think of this one? It’s nice, isn’t it?” Arthur asked, his green eyes settling on the Frenchman as he lightly pulled on the bottom of a long, plaid trench coat that was hanging on a rack in front of him.

“Hm? That one?” Francis murmured, putting his hand on the coat, too. He seemed inattentive despite how long he gazed at the coat in front of him. His mind drifted off into thoughts about how Arthur’s hand was so close to his, how he swore he could feel warmth radiating from him.

Ultimately, the only quiet response Arthur was left with was, “It suits you.”

Then, Francis turned away and continued on in the same direction that the two of them had been walking in. Confused, Arthur looked back at Francis, then the coat again, and ended up pulling it off the rack to follow after the Frenchman.

“That’s not necessarily a compliment, you know? Is it a nice coat or isn’t it?” Arthur repeated his question, his cheeks tinged pink as he realized he was basically begging for the other man’s fashion advice.

Arthur ended up buying the coat and the two of them headed off to the next store that caught their eyes, a street fashion clothing store. It wasn’t particularly either one of their styles, but part of going into the city was seeing things that they usually didn’t see, right?

As they walked through the store, Arthur saw a pair of black, ripped, oversized jeans and ran over to them. He pulled them off the rack and held them up to his waist in front of a mirror to see what they looked like without the hassle of actually trying them on.

Francis slowly walked behind him, cocking an eyebrow in confusion as he stood behind the Englishman and watched him in the mirror. He soon realized that Arthur wasn’t actually considering buying the pants, but was just joking around. He heard him start to speak, a big grin on his face, but… he couldn’t hear him.

Something about the way Arthur was messing around, being so carefree and playful, as if no one else existed but the two of them… it reminded Francis of walking around Seychelles and taking stupid pictures in straw hats and gaudy sunglasses. He felt disgusted with himself for even considering it, but he wanted to cry. His heart ached at the thought that the Englishman didn’t return his feelings, that he would probably be elated if he never had to see him or deal with him again.

“Did you know that I wanted to be in a band when I was in high school?” Arthur mused, laughing at himself as he put the pants back on the rack.

“Oh? What stopped you?” Francis asked, his jaw clenched tight as he mentally talked himself out of suddenly crying. He would surely be worse off if he did something like that.

“My parents,” Arthur replied, his mood visibly becoming sour. “As you know, they like making choices for me,” He added, giving Francis a small smile.

“Oui, clearly mine do, too,” Francis replied weakly, assuming that Arthur was referring to the arranged marriage.

“Well, hopefully we won’t have to deal with this whole thing much longer. I heard from my parents that your family’s wine business is slowly, but surely, starting back up,” Arthur murmured, shifting through clothes on the racks as he passed by them.

“Oh, is that so? I didn’t know that,” Francis replied, his voice almost a whisper as he started to space out again. He couldn’t help but feel hurt that Arthur didn’t even seem to notice the way he hadn’t been paying attention…

“Really? They’re your parents…” Arthur replied, his eyebrows furrowed as he glanced over at the other man, who was looking down at a shirt in front of him. It didn’t look like the sort of shirt that would usually catch his eye, so the Englishman assumed that he had become bored of the store and zoned out.

“Anyway, do you want to go somewhere else now?” Arthur initiated, periwinkle eyes meeting his. “We passed a decent looking bakery on the way here. I think they might have had macarons.”

“Let’s go there then,” Francis replied so quickly that he made Arthur let out a small laugh.

“You could’ve told me that you were hungry..!”

“Well, I wasn’t hungry until you mentioned macarons,” Francis joked, his mood seeming to lift at the thought of food. Maybe he was just overthinking things because he had gotten hungry.

Nonchalantly, Francis looped his arm around Arthur’s arm and pulled him along out of the store. The Englishman didn’t seem to mind though because he left it there.

“Which way was it?” Francis asked, glancing down at the map Arthur had opened on his phone.

“It looks like it’s that way,” Arthur replied, struggling to point because he was holding his phone, shopping bags, and now Francis was clinging to his other arm.

They eventually found the bakery, which was rather extravagant and expensive, just as one would expect of a specialty bakery in a big city. It was a café as well, so they both ordered a cup of coffee and various different kinds of baked goods. Normally, Arthur would’ve gotten a tea, but he was trying to take Francis’s recommendations, because although he was reluctant to admit it, the Frenchman did have great taste.

They chose a window seat which gave them a nice view of the city around them. However, the sky that had been bright and sunny for the majority of the day had abruptly become gray and cloudy.

“I suppose I jinxed it by saying that I didn’t want to drive home in the dark,” Arthur mused. As soon as he finished his sentence, the sound of thunder rumbled through the bakery, causing the lights to dim for a moment. Then, a heavy rain started.

“Non, I think that there was jinxing it,” Francis replied with a small laugh before he took a sip of his coffee and turned to look out the window in awe. It was unbelievable how quickly the weather had changed.

“Well hopefully it will let up soon,” Arthur murmured, using the side of his fork to cut a piece of the pastry in front of him.

Once again, Arthur had jinxed it. The rain never let up, and eventually the two of them had been there too long. Hours had passed, the sun went down completely, and the bakery was going to close in less than a half an hour.

“Aren’t there any hotels nearby?” Francis asked, standing up. He started to clean up their table, stacking the garbage onto one plate so it would be easier for him to carry it over to the trash can.

“That’s what I’m looking for…” Arthur murmured, bent over his phone as he scrolled through lists of nearby hotels. “It looks like the closest hotel is a two minute walk away, but even so, we’ll still get drenched…”

“It seems that we’re going to get wet regardless, so you might as well call that one and see if they’ve got any rooms available,” Francis replied before he walked away with the garbage.

When Francis returned, Arthur had just finished up his phone call.

“They said they’ve got a room available and they’re willing to hold it for us if we make it there within the next fifteen minutes,” Arthur said as he stood up and started to collect his bags.

Francis gulped when he heard Arthur say they had a room available– a room. Just one? Was it really a good idea for the two of them to share a hotel room again?

“D’accord, let’s get going then,” Francis replied, grabbing his bags, too.

The rain never let up, so they were completely drenched when they reached the hotel. Somehow, running in the rain was kind of fun though.

“Mr. Bonnefoy-Kirkland?” The receptionist asked, making Arthur blush in embarrassment and Francis chuckle.

After the ceremony, they hadn’t been able to agree on who would take whose name, as both of them were reluctant to give up their own name. The only possible agreement they could come to was to use both of their names with a hyphen in alphabetical order. The alphabetical order part was Francis’s idea, of course.

“Yes, is the room available?” Arthur replied, reluctantly answering to the name.

“Yes, we have it all set up for you two,” The woman replied, a smile on her face as she handed Arthur the key.

“Thank you,” Arthur replied, swiping his card to pay for the room before the two of them went upstairs to find their room.

Eventually they found room 212, which was a rather large room– a luxury suite, to be exact. The only problem was that…

“What kind of joke is this?” Arthur asked loudly, his voice shaking as if he was terribly offended by what was in front of him.

There was only one bed.

Francis let out a heavy sigh and set his bags down on the floor.

“Well, what did you say to the receptionist on the phone?” Francis asked, mostly due to his own curiosity. Did Arthur go around calling him his fiancé, he wondered.

“I said that two people, two men, needed a room for the night because of the storm,” Arthur replied, seeming more and more annoyed and worked up as time passed. “I mean, do I really seem–”

Arthur was cut off when Francis let out a laugh that he failed to hold back. He pretended he was just coughing or choking when the Englishman glared daggers at him.

“You think this is funny?”

“Non, non,” Francis replied, waving his hand as he continued to cough in an attempt to cover up that he was only laughing harder when Arthur got more upset about it.

Irritated, Arthur stormed out of the room and went back down to the lobby, determined to get a second bed.

“Excuse me,” Arthur started, a forced smile on his face as he approached the receptionist again.

“Yes, sir? Was there a problem with your room?”

“Yes, yes, there was.”

The receptionist seemed surprised to hear that there was something wrong with the room, but was eager to help resolve whatever the issue was.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry to hear that. What’s the issue?”

“There’s only one bed in our room,” Arthur replied, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

“Oh, I…” The receptionist’s cheeks flushed, too. “I just thought that because you two have the same last name… that you… Not to mention that the two of you suit each other quite well…” She trailed off in embarrassment.

She then started to hurriedly click through different rooms on the computer behind the counter in an attempt to find a different room before the uncomfortable conversation could continue any further.

“It’s not like that!” Arthur raised his voice defensively, his cheeks now completely crimson.

They suited each other? That was the same word Francis used to describe the coat Arthur had bought earlier. Once again, he was left wondering if it was really a compliment. All the two of them did was fight, so surely the woman, who was merely a stranger, was mistaken.

“I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding, but the last room with two beds has already been taken. And there aren’t any single bed rooms available tonight either… Again, I’m really sorry,” The receptionist replied, avoiding eye contact with the Englishman after he raised his voice.

“I, um, I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have yelled,” Arthur replied awkwardly before he turned around and went back upstairs.

When Arthur got back to the room, Francis was sitting on a chair, drying his wet hair with one of the hotel towels. He glanced up at the Englishman.

“What did she say?”

Arthur ignored Francis and walked past him.

“It doesn’t matter. This whole thing has me exhausted, so I’m going to sleep now,” Arthur eventually replied dismissively.

“She thought we were a couple, didn’t she?” Francis teased, a smirk forming on his face.

“Only because of our stupid last names..!” Arthur replied, getting worked up again. “Now where do you want to sleep– the bed or the couch?”

“Well, since you asked, the bed.”

“Fine,” Arthur replied as though he was disappointed, but too tired to object. In fact, as soon as he heard a response, he started moving a blanket and pillow over to the couch.

“Just because I’m going to sleep in the bed doesn't mean that you can’t, too. We are married after all,” Francis continued to tease the Englishman as he walked over to the bed.

“At this point I wish you would invite the receptionist to the bed so she would get whatever idea she has about me out of her head…”

“It might get that idea out of her head about me, but not about you. Bonne nuit!” Francis replied in a singsong tone as he turned off the light.

“Oh shut it!” Arthur yelled, tossing his pillow at the Frenchman from across the room– a decision which left him stumbling around in the dark trying to find it for quite awhile…

#hetalia #aph france #aph england #hws france #hws england #fruk #aph fruk #hws fruk #hetalia fruk #francis bonnefoy #arthur kirkland #ao3 fanfic #hetalia fluff #hetalia angst #fanfiction #ao3 writer #fanfic #ao3fic

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sariel626 · 9 months

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I read your platonic dad Poe fic. Could you do another one where Poe has to run to the office and brings his kid for a few minutes and they meet Fitzgerald for the first time. He tries to keep his little detective quiet lol

AAAAAAA! My first request!!! This is so exciting!!!

Note: Fitzgerald did meet reader under different circumstances in the other Poe work, so we’ll have reader’s memory be foggy of him.

TW: possible OOC characters

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Emergency Meeting!🚨🚨🚨

Poe grabbed his phone and noticed it was Francis calling, so he answered the call while motioning for (Reader) to be quiet, “Hello boss, is there something you need? Ah yes, the plans for the new buildings have been drafted. I can bring them in a couple hours for review- 15 minutes?! N-No, it’s not a problem, but my daughter, she can’t be left alone yet. I promise she won’t be a bother! Thank you!”

Immediately after hanging up Poe started to gather his things. (Reader) had cleaned up her crayons and papers after figuring out she would probably be going somewhere with her dad. “Dad, are you going to work?” Poe sighed, “Yes, there’s a meeting I have to go to and unfortunately, you’ll be coming with me this time.” He recalled the last time (Reader) was at the office and shivered at the thought of the experience repeating. Poe grabbed his bag and began leading her out the door. The young girl whined at this, “Why can’t I stay with Uncle Ranpo? It’s Saturday, he’s not gonna be at work!” “I have to be there in less than fifteen minutes. That isn’t anywhere near enough time to drop you off with Ranpo. Did you grab some books? Colors and notebooks?” The girl hummed in response, pouting about having to go to her dad’s work on the weekend.

Living about 7 minutes away made it slightly easier for the stressed architect and young girl to arrive in time by speed walking. There were many times when a bookstore or sweet shop would catch little (Reader)’s eye and almost distract her, but Poe was determined to get him and his daughter to and through this meeting as soon as possible.

Once they arrived at the entrance of the guild, (Reader) felt a sense of deja vu wash over her. She grabbed Poe’s hand and he looked down at her. “I think I’ve been here before…and something bad happened. I don’t wanna go.” Her father’s expression immediately grew worried. Was she having traumatic flashbacks? Was he going to lose his daughter because of this important meeting? Karl jumped off Poe’s shoulders onto his daughter’s, which seemed to help calm the small girl’s nerves a bit. “It’ll only be one short meeting, then we’ll leave, I promise” Poe gave (Reader) a reassuring smile. “…Ok, but then we have to get ice cream!” “Deal!”

After passing through what seemed like 50 empty hallways, they finally made it to their destination with a minute to spare. Knocking on the door, they hear a “Come in” and both enter the lavish room, coming face to face with Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald himself and Louisa Alcott by his side, as per usual. Seeing Poe now here, Francis smiled and checked his watch, “Poe! You’re just in time! Let’s take a look at what you’ve drawn up.” Ignoring the presence of Poe’s daughter, he watched Poe take out the files for each plan and set them on his desk. “The new firm will require at least $690,000,000 to build…”

Meanwhile, (Reader) had moved from behind Poe to behind the couch he was sitting on. She felt uncomfortable upon seeing the blonde CEO, but couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly that gave her that feeling. Taking out the crayons from her bag, the girl continued working on her picture for Uncle Ranpo. Sifting through the box to find a black crayon, because he always has to have his signature glasses at the scene, she noticed her red crayon fall out and roll around the corner of the couch. Of course, this did not go unnoticed by Francis. Amusement spread across his face as he spoke, “Poe, did you let in a rat?” Knowing full well who was there. The tousle haired writer tried to maintain his composure and picked it up, “I-It must’ve fallen out o-of my pocket from earlier.” Francis laughed, “I didn’t know you used crayons to draw up your plans for new structures.” This only raised Poe’s anxiety of the situation. Will Francis see his daughter and force him to get rid of her? Will he kill her?! “O-Occasionally I do, t-to avoid smearing in my drafts…” Hearing the poor excuse, Francis decided to see how far Poe would go to hide the girl’s presence. “I suppose that’s reasonable. Now, you were saying?”

The writer let out a sigh of relief internally and continued with the meeting. He couldn’t help but notice Louisa glancing next to him, almost as if she were trying to see behind the couch. At this point, (Reader) had finished her initial drawing and flipped her drawing notebook paper. Coincidentally, this was done almost in sync with her father, but she was slightly louder which caught the attention of the Guild’s strategist. The young girl, pondering what to draw next, glanced around the room before freezing up as she looked at the space between Fitzgerald’s desk and the door (like where Atsushi was before he escaped and took the doll to Dazai). Her pupils shrunk and (Reader)’s hand instinctively started moving to draw a familiar, yet forgotten memory…

As she was drawing, the small artist had built up the urge to sneeze and sneeze she did. The room fell silent for a few moments before Francis said, “Poe, please refrain from bringing anyone to Guild meetings again. You may come out from hiding.” (Reader) peeked her head out, still feeling a bit uncomfortable around the businessman. Francis would’ve been lying if he said he was surprised by the girl’s appearance. He had expected someone much older and taller. Clearing his voice without breaking eye contact, he asks Louisa to take the young girl to another room until he and Poe are finished.

Cleaning up her crayons again, and getting the red one from her father, (Reader) follows the loyal woman to a room nearby. “Miss Louisa? Can I call you that?” Louisa looked down at the kid, “Louisa or Alcott is fine.” “Do you have to go back?” “I do…but I don’t want to interrupt Lord Francis’s meeting…” The small girl pondered this, “Do you want to play double double this this?” Louisa was taken by surprise at the girl’s offer. Didn’t this kid remember her just watching Lord Francis killing her parents and almost her a few years ago? Why would she want to play a game with her? Unless it’s a trap! “—ouisa? Miss Louisa? You can say no, it’s ok.” A tiny hand was waving in front of Louisa’s face to snap her out of her thoughts. “S-Sorry, I don’t know how to play so I’ll just review my work. Can you please be completely quiet so I can work?” “I’ll try my best to be as quiet as possible!” Louisa smiled at the young detective’s determination, but immediately sweat dropped when (Reader) pulled out four adult mystery novels.

Soon enough, the meeting was over and the girl had solved three mysteries before reaching the end of the books. Louisa brought (Reader) back to Francis’s office, the room still making the young detective uneasy. Karl was the first of the three to notice the two enter, and he jumped onto the familiar child’s shoulder. This alerted both Poe and Francis of the two girls’ arrival. “Welcome back little one, I’m sure you were much better for Miss Louisa than you were during the meeting?” Poe sighed, “I-I’m so sorry sir…I j-just couldn’t find a-anyone to watch her.” Louisa interjected, “She was very good and polite. I asked her to stay quiet so I could work and she didn’t make a sound.”

The nervous girl who had been hiding behind Louisa with Karl on her shoulders came out, knowing that she had to apologize for causing trouble for her father. Fidgeting with the ends of her shirt, she bowed her head in shame, “I-I’m sorry for making so much noise during your meeting…and being a problem…” Francis patted her head and chuckled, “Just don’t let it happen again.” He pulled his hand back, “You’re exactly like your father, appearances aside. Run along now, I’m sure you two had plans today.” Poe and (Reader) said their goodbyes and quickly rushed out.

Once they were gone, Francis frowned and continued staring at the door, “Miss Louisa.” “Y-Yes Lord Francis?” He turned towards her, “Don’t you think that girl resembled Eliza Haywood and Damien Lewis a bit too much?” Louisa noticed this too, but she didn’t expect her boss to ask her about it so soon. “I do…but are we still going to kill her? Poe seemed really attached to her…” “He was told to kill her if he saw her back then, that means he disobeyed an order.” Francis sighed and sat down in his chair at his desk, “But this could bear fruit for us if we play our cards right, let’s leave her be for now. I’m sure her father will help hone whatever gift that girl has.” “Should I retrieve the files on her biological parents?” “No, please continue putting together the next strategy.”

Meanwhile, after having left Francis’s office, Poe began scolding his daughter. “You can’t cause more problems for Mr. Fitzgerald like that. He’s busy enough as is with his businesses and running the Guild. He had to call me in on a day off because of his schedule being so packed. Please don’t let that happen again, especially when you can be quieter for other people.” There was a moment of silence as the little (Reader) let his words sink in. “ Oh, Why were you so nervous around him? I mean, I don’t blame you since he could easily fire me or kill m-“ The girl stopped in her tracks the moment he said ‘kill’ with a terrified expression on her face. Poe saw this and immediately grew worried, he hadn’t seen that look since he first took her in. The writer, not knowing what to do, reached out his hand like he did so long ago and asked, “Would you like to go to those sweet shops we passed on our way here? We could also s-stop by the bookstore if it’s still open?” Trying to hide the nervousness in his voice. Karl nuzzled her cheek, both gestures making the child snap out of her trance. She shakily grabbed her dad’s hand and the three left to fulfill Poe’s offer to his daughter.

———————————————————————

YOU CAN’T BEAT THE POWER OF ENERGY DRINKS AND OVERWORKING MYSELF WRITER’S BLOCK! I GOT THE POWER OF CHILD READER ON MY SIDE!

I’m so sorry if you’re not happy with how this turned out. I tried to keep it consistent with the how (Reader) was adopted story. Please feel free to give feedback, it is much appreciated.

Fun Fact: Eliza Haywood and Damien Lewis are also writers irl.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #poe bsd #platonic bsd #francis bsd #louisa bsd #platonic poe x reader bsd #platonic bungo stray dogs #platonic poe bsd

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saints-who-never-existed · 3 months

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Rereading The Terror

Chapter Forty-Nine: Crozier

The southward journey continues, or at least tries to...

Whether asleep or awake, Crozier is beset on all sides by nightmares. In the few minutes of sleep he can catch, he has visions of his Memo Moira sending him up to receive the Eucharist from a giant, dripping Tuunbaq-like priest who rises up out of the floor and reeks of blood. "He knows that his life will never be the same after receiving the Papist Eucharist. And he also knows that his life will end if he does not receive it." And in his waking hours, he and the men are subjected to the constant, terrifying feeling that the ice beneath them is breaking up to swallow them whole, as well as the news from Goodsir that their constant ice-slicked, sweat-dampened state is ruining the men's feet, rotting them gangrenously away and necessitating amputations.

Those unimaginably awful conditions are one thing I do feel the book captures better than the show often is able to (for obvious practical reasons, but still...). "The Holland tents were soaked and never dried. The sleeping bags...were soaked and frozen inside and out and never dried. When the men awoke in the morning after a few stolen minutes of fitful sleep - no amount of shivering could make one warmer..." Like, just the mental toll of being that cold for that long alone is bad enough! :(((

They're constantly trying to hunt but are constantly unsuccessful. They've shot at a few seals on the ice floes but the animals have always managed to escape down into the water to die before the men can reach them. ("Sometimes the hunters knelt on the ice to lap at the blood.")

One bright spot in all the darkness is the legendary Mr Diggle, who somehow manages to remain "the same energetic, obscene, efficient, bellowing, and somehow reassuring figure he had been for three years at his post... aboard HMS Terror." "...always the optimist...", Diggle has even cobbled together a crude seal-oil stove so as to be ready in the event that one of the hunting parties finally sees some success.

Still, even that optimism isn't enough and Crozier's thoughts grow darker... He reasons that the only thing that would really help them now would be to finally manage to kill Tuunbaq, who continues to stalk them. He still believes Tuunbaq to be a real animal of flesh and blood (unlike the rest of the men who believe it a wrathful god) and can't help but think not only of the feast Tuunbaq's body would provide but of the morale boost too. "So they would eat well for many week if they did manage to murder their murderer. And with every bite, Crozier knew, even eating the thing-flesh as they were the salt pork while on the march, there would be the pleasure of revenge, even if it had to be a dish best served cold."

The lengths he contemplates going to in order to accomplish this almost don't bear thinking about. First, he considers using himself as bait: "If it would work, Francis Crozier knew he would set himself out onto the ice as bait. If it would work. If it would save and feed even a few of his men."

Then, he thinks about bodies... He remembers Private Wilkes, who was pulled from the water just before the ice closed back over the drowned Marines, but who died from the cold shortly afterwards anyway. He thinks of how they just his left his body out on the ice when they moved on when they could've used it for bait. And he thinks of David Leys now - the man who's lain catatonic and useless since Tuunbaq's attack on Blanky. Not even the likes of Hickey and Aylmore seem to have thought of leaving Leys behind (or worse) but Crozier has... "But everyone must have had the same thought..." "Eat them." "Eat Leys first, then the others when they die." "Francis Crozier was so hungry that he could imagine eating human flesh. He would not kill a man in order to devour him - not yet - but once dead, why should all that meat be left behind to rot in the arctic summer sun?"

Crozier thinks briefly of the whaling ship Essex, the one famously sunk by a sperm whale in 1820, leaving her crew to drift and descend into cannibalism and almost all perish in their tiny whaleboats in the Pacific. Hard to tell whether it comes from Simmons himself, or is more on Crozier's part as a character but there's a bit that strikes me as amusing. Crozier recalls that the Essex's crew made landfall on Henderson Island but quickly found that the animals and plant life there would not be enough to sustain them. Conveniently left out is the fact that there wasn't enough animal and plant life because the crew went absolutely fuckin' hog-wild and burnt through it all, depleting all of the island's natural resources in the space of barely a fuckin' week! Like, God love them the poor bugger's were starving, but even still, they were the reason there wasn't enough food to last on that island!

Back in colder climes, the Expedition's men continue to drift, the ice being too weirdly broken up for them to row/sail/haul with any kind of purpose. Crozier maps their position as best he can and eventually realises just where they are: "We're in the strait. And since we have to be north of the Adelaide Peninsula, we've completed the goal of the Sir John Franklin Expedition. This is the North-West Passage. By God, you've done it." "There was a weak cheer followed by some coughing."

And finally, a short while later, they're able to make landfall again. The men are so exhausted that they don't even put up tents or pull out sleeping bags, just collapsed and sleep in piles on the bare rocks with only their mate's bodies for warmth. Crozier doesn't assign a watch - "If the thing wanted them tonight, it could have them." He checks their position once more, figures out that they're still 900 miles from Great Slave Lake, and throws himself down on the ground to sleep too and dream again of Memo Moira - "Crozier closed his eyes and extended his tongue to receive the Body of Christ."

#The Terror #The Terror AMC #Observations #Random Observations #Meta #Rereading the Terror #Terror Spoilers #Pain again #Pure unadulterated pain as always!#Francis Crozier #John Diggle though #What a legend #Absolute MVP #And I'm always a sucker for the religion/cannibalism parallels #'He knows his life will never be the same if he consumes the Body of Christ'#'But he also knows he'll die if he doesn't consume it'#Ooft #Outstanding stuff

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some-triangles · 3 months

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It's Portland's annual new year blizzard/ice storm, which we are unprepared for every year, because this never used to happen. It barely snowed here when I was a kid! I was a kid 30 years ago, mind you, and this has been happening pretty consistently for the last 20, but institutions are slow to change. We have been spending our money on other things.

So here I am, sitting in my own living room (my own in the sense that I rent it), in my long johns and thermals and two pairs of socks, heat on, still gradually losing feeling in my toes. This seems like a good day to write the politics post.

I belong to the category of person who expresses political and moral beliefs mostly through jokes, and only then when my personal frustration has reached a point where I can no longer make myself be quiet. The jokes are there to make the pain less raw, but lately the jokes themselves are getting dark enough that it's upsetting people. So let's proceed without the jokes.

Where to begin? In the 90s, I guess. I was brought up liberal but cynical, which is already kind of a tense balance, and I was by inclination a person who wanted things to make sense and follow understandable rules. (The answer is as always neurodivergence.) I figured out that religion wasn't real by looking at a map and realizing that the world was too big for any one group of people to be right about things. Despite this, I still thought American democracy was the correct answer, the least bad option, and that the world as a whole was heading towards where I was, a kind of tolerant, reasonable middle class existence.

In my defense, this was a belief broadly shared by my parents' generation, and I hadn't been taught a lot of the stuff that argued against it. Francis Fukuyama got up in front of people and declared the world a solved problem and nobody important even laughed at him. I bought into this to the extent that I suffered from a kind of wistful sadness that all the important battles had already been fought. In short, I was a child, and not a particularly bright one, despite what people told me. I did, however, form a belief that stays with me to this day:

I AM NOT SPECIAL. I, personally, do not deserve any more or any less than any human being. And since I think I should be safe and well fed, every other human being should also be safe and well fed. The fact that I am better off than some others is an accident which should be rectified.

This came about because I was aware that a lot of the people in the world were poor and miserable and I wasn't, and I had to decide whether luck or virtue was responsible for my safety. I went with luck. I didn't realize it at the time, but this choice put me at odds with a lot of the logic underlying the society I live in - because if I'm not special, you better believe nobody else is either, and that means no elect, no chosen, none blessed by god, none elevated by blood. I was 10, I hadn't even had a chance to fuck up my life yet, and yet there were all these other 10-year-olds worse off than me. Did they deserve that? And what about those kids who had it better?

And so, decades later, we end up with the joke about how it's a good deal to trade your life away to take out a rich person. It's the same impulse, just with a lot of broken promises and bitterness stacked on top. I work full time at a job that's officially essential (no stoppage during the pandemic), strenuous, and physically dangerous - I get paid the 1993 equivalent of a little less than $30k a year - I will never be able to afford a home in the city I grew up in. This job has to be done. I am not special, I do not "deserve" a better job. I, as a working person, watch people who do jobs that do not need to be done or who don't work at all get paid more because they are members of an invisible elect. I conclude that they must believe they are worth more than me, that they are better than me, because how else could they justify their lives? And I think if I subscribed to that worldview, it would be a net win for me to blow both of us up. Thus, the joke.

I also watch the rest of the world. My belief in liberal democracy is a pretty aerated Jenga tower by this point. Learning about America's imperial history took out a bunch of pieces, but I could still believe all that was behind us. Then we went back to war, which I could initially write off as a traumatic reaction, but as years turned into decades it became obvious that peace had been the exception, and that even that peace hadn't been that peaceful, had it? At that point it was still possible to believe that at least all of our bombing and killing had been in the interest of some kind of moral good, if you really tried. I think Gaza killed the very last part of me that could believe that. There is no atrocity we will not enable to pursue our own ends. Does it matter that much what kind of system we use to choose our leaders if this is what our leaders do?

The last thing keeping my tower standing is the need to protect the outgroups I and my friends belong to, which doesn't really rise to the level of a moral imperative. It's a moment by moment strategic thing, where you support institutions if they protect you and oppose them if they attack you, like any interest group. Right now HR culture and capitalism are trending pro-trans, so we support Disney against Florida. We will do voter suppression if the alternative is Trump. It doesn't go well with rule number one up there, but neither does the fact that I care about my friends more than I care about people I don't know.

At the end of the day it's all a joke. Moral imperatives give way to political reality one hundred percent of the time. It doesn't matter what I call myself. I hate tech culture, so why not be a Luddite? I'll smash steam looms in my mind while continuing to pay for my groceries. Just let me have my jokes. Trashfuture did a great riff about Butlerian Jihad the other day where they imagined a butler named Ian Jihad. "I've oriented sir's slippers towards Mecca, sir." That's the kind of political commentary I want, and the kind I will refrain from posting here unless my toes are really, really cold.

#in which I try to explain why black humor is the best I can do these days

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koreanbibliophilegirl · 6 months

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Hi, midterms are over, and I had the weirdest and oddly well-structured dream of all time two nights ago, so NEW AU TIME:

Goldenduo-centric bc the dream was goldenduo-centric

Tomes are magic books that grant you the knowledge and power unique to each Tome

Tomes are very powerful but also very rare, and some Tomes(fire, ice, etc.) may even have drawbacks if you don't also master a different Tome to balance it out

You can still use magic even if you don't master a Tome though, Tomes aren't the only source of learning magic

Tommy is a basic magic user who only dabbles in it cuz it's useful

His family members are all pretty powerful, so Tommy's definitely got the genes to drastically improve, but he doesn't really want to, he's got better stuff to do

Purpled is a bit more professional, he attends a magic college thing(?)

Tubbo's family(specifically his mother's side) has had the Ice Tome for generations now but someone who turned out to be a Fire Tome user befriended then kidnapped Tubbo's mom and took the Ice Tome

It's been a bit more than a decade though and Tubbo's family is resigned to never finding the Ice Tome again

Tomes have a habit of getting around, it's a shame they lost the Ice Tome after generations but that's not the problem

The problem is the (pretty much certain) murder of Tubbo's mom

Ice Tome users are especially weak to fire magic, even the slightest attack from a Fire Tome user would be enough to kill an Ice Tome user

So yeah anyway there's really not much anyone can do about it

One day Purpled gets kidnapped cuz uhhhhhhh my dream did not provide this bit hang on-

....HIS COLLEGE IS A PRESTIGIOUS ONE AND THEY HAVE A SUPER POWERFUL TOME THAT THEY LET MAGIC STUDENTS WITH HIGH POTENTIAL READ

Uhhhh it's Purpled's college and Purpled is an alien sooooooo maybe the Tome is something star/galaxy-related?? ...planetary chakra- no that doesn't fit well with the worldbuilding

....Light??? Soundwaves???? (Can you tell I've been studying Earth Science too much)

Hang on I should totally use what I've forcibly drilled into my head during this last month or so

PLANETARY WAVELENGTHS

...Look, there are supposed to be multiple Tomes, not all of them can be centered around Aristotle's Four Elements-

Anyway planetary wavelengths! Can be used for. Uh. Shoot did we even learn this

You magically make the waves go slower or faster! You can make Gamma rays! X-rays! Ultraviolet/Visible/Infrared light! Microwaves and Radiowaves! (BTW that's the order of wavelength, from shortest to longest)

Sobbing. I'm a humanities kid why do I use science in my fics but not philosophy(<-is a liar, is planning short story about Francis Bacon's New Atlantis concept for extra credit in Ethics & Ideas(?) class)

Okay so turns out it's called electromagnetic waves in English

Purpled is an Electromagnetic Wave Tome User now

...No it does not sound nerdy shut the fudge up

Okay so that's sorted ig

So Tommy goes to find Purpled without knowing he's kidnapped, but turns out the ppl who kidnapped him is the group that killed Tubbo's mom

At some point he gets caught and is about to be killed but from the back of the group someone who apparently just arrived goes "What the f*ck?"

Turns out Tommy's friend Eryn was part of the group without realizing they torture and kill people(look, this was funnier in my dream, okay?)

So Eryn goes "F*ck this sh!t I'm out" and uses the initial surprise to just. Drag goldenduo out of the circle of Bad Guys™️. This was how it went in my dream, but since I'm making it into a proper AU, let's say he used bursts of fire cuz he's a Fire Tome User

They escape the building with an invisibility charm cast by Eryn draped(?) over them

....And that's about as far as I got.

Yeah. Anyway feel free to contribute to Tome variety if you want, I need ideas.

#tommyinnit #purpled #tubbo #eryn cyberonix #erynstreams #the OG dream was a crossover with another piece of media I enjoy but I've reformatted it to just MCYT #Lilly writes stuff #dream smp #dsmp #I think??? idk yet #I might make it just mcyt in general #tome au

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caixxa · 10 months

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A1,A 2, B6, B9, BASICALLY ALL OF THE C QUESTIONS! PLS I WANT TO KNOW! (if you feel like responding lmao) thank you, love you and hope you are having a really nice day! <3

Sorry that it took so long to answer! I had a hellish day and we live on almost opposite time zones, so.

A1: When did you start reading fanfiction?

Summer 2016, after Euro 2016. As an adult, well past 30, I rediscovered the fun of being A Fan.

A2: How did you find your first fic?

I googled, learned new search phrases to google until I found the stuff I really liked. I think the first searches were like "Gareth Bale fan fiction" and the really effective one that I think finally led me to Ao3 (I have no idea what the first sites were) was more in the way of "Cristiano ronaldo gareth bale m/m slash" lol. I read only as a guest user for months, I didn't make my own account until I wanted to write and post my own work.

B6. What is your favourite story trope? Why?

Friends to lovers with sexual exploration on the way. Seductive younger man developing in a twisted power balance/imbalance relationship with an older man. Stuff with sexual tension and a vibe of something forbidden.

B9. Who is your OTP?

I'm such a multi-shipper! I always say it's Aho/TT because they are soulmates and the Finnish connection and two cherubs who share a brain on the ice and fly together and are stupid codependent bros. But I've come to think that the true OTP is Sepe/mentors and authority figures. I came to that conclusion when I heard on the Canes Corner podcast that in his first interviews, he always mentioned Ron Francis, and I couldn't but nod along. Of course he did. A franchise legend who drafted him, of course. He still mentioned him on the Siim Liivik podcast like last summer, you know. He loves Rod, he loves Pekka, he loves Justin Williams, he was so into Burns being traded to the Canes. He's a fireball on the ice but off the ice, his daddy kink can be seen from SPACE.

THe C section:

What trope are you tired of reading? Why? Self-harm or suicide as a romantic plot point. It should be self-explanatory, I detest all variations of the trope where romantic counterpart saves the protagonist from shit they should figure out with themselves first, especially if there is a "love as a miracle cure" element to it. I feel similarly about th "you deserve better, let me save you from your abusive relationship by making you mine". No. If this happens from a base of friendship and they develop love later, that works, but falling in love as a cure because The One Sees Your Beauty When Others Don't is yucky. Elaborate proposals in front of an audience gathered specifically to celebrate the occasion as peak romance is so weird too, maybe I just don't get American wedding culture. (These tropes are more present in m/f imagines than m/m rpf, tho)

What word or expression always makes you cringe when you read it? "Too" when it's supposed to be "to" is the only one of those that I often see in fic writing, but in general, "Their" when you mean "They're" or "it's" for "its" when native speakers do it... IT'S YOUR OWN LANGUAGE! HOW CAN YOU NOT GET THE EASY ONES RIGHT?

Is there anything that makes you nope out of a story? What is it? Double spacing between each paragraph. I know that it's mostly because the Ao3 rich text editor doesn't copy/paste google docs right. I will have to be REALLY drawn into the story and want to read it really bad to struggle through that.

What thing that fandom loves do you actually kind of hate? Why? Hockey fights. They're so unnecessary, they're just an example of the American fixation on violence and vigilante justice. It's okay to me that hockey is a rough game, cross checking and body checking is absolutely fine by me, but dropping the gloves.. it's such a stupid, primitive thing to do. Hockey does fine without it. I know this is unpopular bc y'all love violence. I see all the wrestling posts y'know, and all the "hot" tags in hockey fight posts. *points at all directions, staring judgementally*

What character that fandom loves are you just kinda “meh” about? Why? Hockey players: Anthony Beauvillier. This is just about his looks, I don't see what most people see, he looks so plain to me.

Is there anything in canon that made you want to quit the show? What was it? Why did you hate it? Are we still talking hockey/sports because all i read is sports rpf? Well, I used to like F1 but Ihave very little interest in it now. I just don't think that a motorsport that is done on vehicles for no other use than driving on these extensive tracks made of concrete and asphalt just for it is just gross. In rally, there is at least something organic (lol) and relatable. Also, the last Cristiano Ronaldo fic I read was after his transfer to Juventus, after that I think he's made a fool of himself.

Who is your NOTP? Sepe/Seth Jarvis, Sepe/Jordan Martinook. I think it's bc I have zero attraction to the other guy haha, plus Jarvy only gives me goofy little brother vibes, not ship vibes. Also, Cressi was the big ship when I entered football rpf and I could see the two superstars, rivals, el clasico etc etc intellectually but I just sensed no chemistry between cr7 and messi whatsoever so it's always been kinda NOTP for me.

What is one plot twist you wish people would stop using? Do all the plot twists your heart desires, man, writing is supposed to be fun! But what I said in C1 counts here too.

What show did you really try to watch, but you just couldn’t? This happens with all the shows. I watch a few episodes but can't find the time to finish them. I also skipped a lot (most) of NHL games last season because I need to sleep.

What book could you just never get into, no matter how hard you tried? I don't try hard with my reading, if I don't like the book I quit. The hardest I've tried was probably War and Peace which I read so slowly that I eventually forgot what had happened before and kinda drifted off it after maybe 20%.

Thank you for the ask and have a super duper fine summer!!

(the ask game post is this)

#asks #answered #ask game #fic reading

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evermorehqs · 1 year

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CATCHING MY BREATH, STARING OUT AN OPEN WINDOW

Brynn Utonium is based on Blossom from The Powerpuff Girls. She is a 25 year old super human, tech project manager, and uses she/her pronouns. She has the power of flight, intuition, ice breath, and super strength. Brynn is portrayed by Lee Sung Kyung and she is open.

CATCHING MY DEATH, AND I COULDN’T BE SURE

Being a leader was all Brynn ever knew so it was a little ironic that she wasn’t the first daughter of the Professor. It took five whole years after Brystol for her to be created and yet it felt right that the role of leader fell onto her. Maybe it was a classic middle child syndrome, having to take control but it came so naturally to her that no one ever questioned it. And it wasn’t like Brystol or Brooklyn had what it took to make plans and hard decisions, that was all Brynn. There was something so satisfying about being the person people called when they needed help and saving the day became somewhat of an addiction for the young woman as did the adoration that came with it. Her heart was in the right place, she wanted to keep people safe, but there was a small part of her that maybe liked the fame a little more than she should, her ego swelled with each key to the city they were gifted. No matter what the world threw at them, the girls were ready and could take on anything - until Evermore. Their powers weren’t needed as they once were, though Brynn could swear that the sound of the phone ringing still haunted her. The Mayor calling and no one answering. The cheers they once heard quickly faded into the background until she could hardly conjure them at all. The transition to Evermore wasn’t an easy one for her, both of her sisters seemed to take to it much easier than she did and, though she tried to keep being the leader of their little trio, they started to find other things to do with their time and talents - things other than beating up wrongdoers and fighting for justice. Brynn had always been interested in tech, especially the gadgets they used to fight crime but considering those things weren’t necessarily useful, she pivoted into other kinds of tech that could help society. Start ups and tech companies called her name and within those groups, she could easily become a leader once more, managing teams and making sure they got their job done. It was kind of like her old life, right? ...Not really, but Brynn would take what she could get. There is still an instatible itch under her skin to return to the life she knew before Evermore, unfortunately she remembers it all. The thrill, the fame, the power she felt and that know feels useless. She yearns to return to it and one day she knows she will.

I HAD A FEELING SO PECULIAR

❀ Sally ‘Thorn’ McKnight: Brynn can’t help but look to Sally for some kind of inspiration and friendship, they’re both the leaders of a powerful trio... maybe in different ways but she knows that the other woman can understand the pressure. ❀ Judy Hopps: As a fighter for justice, Brynn tends to look to Judy for some kind of understanding, sometimes shadowing her a little for the thrill of being the face of the law. No, she can’t do anything legally to help but what’s the harm of hanging around? ❀ Francis Ferguson: Though Brynn will deny it, she’s always loved the attention she got from helping save the city so it comes as no surprise she’s attracted to the same love of the spotlight that she sees in Francis. He might be a bit of an egomaniac but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

THAT THIS PAIN WOULD BE FOR EVERMORE

#tumblr rp #skeleton rp #lee sung kyung #the powerpuff girls #blossom #female bio #has powers #open bio #open female

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sambltrs12 · 11 months

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Samantha Ballesteros

G11-St. Francis

/\/\/\ Blog /\/\/\

Autobiography

My name is Samantha Ballesteros but you can call me Sam. I am 16 years old and I live in Brgy San Jose Cuyapo Nueva Ecija. I was born on December 12 2005. My mother's name is Leah Ballesteros and my father's name is Marvin Ballesteros and I have one brother and his name is Dale Kian Ballesteros. My hobby is playing badminton and watching movies. And also I love dogs because they make me happy. I'm a Bts fan that's why my favorite color is purple. I had a happy childhood living with my family. I remember during weekends we usually spend our day in the park. We helped each other in our daily activities. My family was a happy and loving family.

I start studying when I was five. My grandparents are the ones who served as my babysitter since my parents weren't home for work so they enrolled me in a Daycare Center. You may not believe this but my grandma told me that I always cry in school because im scared to those people that I'm not familiar with. My elementary days are incredibly awesome I gained many friends, I achieved honors and awards. It's been quite that studying six years on the same school but it's totally fine with me because I have friends to laugh with, have fun with, and learn with. I graduated from San Jose Elementary School and became a high school here in Saint Pius X Institute and I can say that I enjoy studying here and even though it is difficult sometimes I enjoy it and I learn a lot. Attending a catholic school helped me to grow academically, in my faith and as a person, giving me high moral standards. I am motivated to create the best possible future for myself and have worked very hard to set that up and achieve my goals in life.

The saddest part that happened in my life was when my mother left me when I was a child and my mother and my father separated. For me, it's hard to grow up without a mother who supports you, I always wonder if there is still a chance for us to meet because until now we still have no communication with each other. So I feel a little bad for her because of what she did to us but I also thought that God will not give it to us if we can't do it and there is no reason. So even though it's hard, I try to fight and never lose hope that one day we'll meet again and I'll feel the love of a mother for her child. That's why I'm so grateful to my dad and my grandparents who took care of me from the beginning until now and I love them so much.

Even though that's what happened in my life, I'm still thankful because there are good things that have happened to me since I was a child until now. I remembered that every my birthday there was always a lot of food prepared with cake and balloons, I always played with my friends, wandered with my parents and happily bathed in the rain as cold as ice because that was one of my favorite things to do as a child. One of my best childhood memories are those playing in the park, learning to ride a bike, handwriting lessons and buying ice cream. I enjoyed my life the way I want and to be with people I love.

These memories leave an everlasting impression in my life. During my childhood I was carefree and had no worries at all. I used to wander like a deer in the open fields. There are a certain incidents that are still fresh in my memory. One of these is when we were playing and while running I stumbled and crippled. I'm always thinking that time flies when you're having fun, I treasure every moment I experienced and it was so happy and I want to go back. But now I'm enjoying life and studying to graduate and get a job soon and fulfill my dreams.

0 notes

zaenight · 1 year

Text

Chapter 4

Continues from chapter 3.....

----------

"Here put this on." José said passing some gear to the boys.

"You gonna pitch to us?" Pete questioned.

"You could say that." Ethal said as the four laughed.

"Im getting a bad feeling." Brad said as they heard a knock.

"Yoohoo!" a woman exclaimed as another batboy entered.

"Well now! who's this?" Luca said , oh this poor woman had no Idea what her child will go through.

"That's francis! he works with us." Lucy said walking over.

"Didn't want to miss the sleepover." The blonde told them.

"Oh no way , can't miss out on all the fun , Hey! glad to have you francis my man." José said as Lucy had his hands on his shoulders.

"Don't forget to brush your teeth and take your benadrill(?)." The blonde said

blowing a kiss as Lucy waved,wacking the boy once the mother was out of sight.

José then threw his bag,and locked the door as Luca turned off the lights.

"What's going on?" francis questioned as they started laughing.

"It's hell night , what isn't going on?" Luca said with a smirk.

first they pitched to them in the batting cage , machine full speed,they yelled out ows and ouches, oh the brusies these boys would have,no matter how much padding they were wearing.

secondly they made them sing the star spangled banner as they squirted them with Ketchup and mustard, oh and Pickles, oh and Luca may or may not have dumped mayonoise on them.

thirdly they pushed them in a laundry bin full speed , making them human bowling balls.

And right now the three boys were scrubbing the floors with toothbrushes , and Luca wanted a shower , and Luca gets what Luca wants.

--------

Hey scrubs look like your working up a sweat." José told them.

"Maybe you need somthing to cool ya down?" Luca said as the four drank from their beer cans.

They then made them get into ice baths,the boys were screaming and shivering as the four hollered and laughed.

The phone then rang as Luca told them to hush up , answering the phone.

"Clubhouse!,Just a minute." Luca said waving an arm to cutoff the music.

"Yo Petey its for you , Mommy wants to speak with you." Luca snickered , voice going normal , to the guys it sounded like Luca was mocking Pete in a high pitched voice , but in reality Gabriella gets tired of using a deep voice and its cracks.

"Damn you really sounded like a chick for a minute." Ethal said.

"I have many talants." Luca whispered as Her and José leaned down listening to Pete

speaking to his mother.

"Ha-hello?,G-great ra-really great!,I w-won't goodnight." Pete said shivering as José hung up the phone,They laughed at the boys .

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

"Ready Go!" José yelled as the three boys spinned with their forheads on bats.

"Five times around." He said.

"Thats one!" Luca yelled.

"C'mon fatboy." One of the boys said to brad.

Francis dropped the bat prompting José to say he better pick it up.

They then gave them eggs on a spoon , the three racing to the field.

"Yo Im gonna take a shower!" Luca said to them , the three were taunting the boys , José nodded .

She could hear them chanting , she really hoped they weren't doing anything

stupid,Taking off her clothes , her chest binder , and her hair out of her really tight bun.

She started the shower,steam covered Everything.

Speaking of the boy's they put poor Francis in the dryer , the boy crying for help , the other two saying to stop,they almost got a heart attack when they thought Francis stopped breathing,he didn't,but he was freaked , when José took things to far Luca usually wacks him over the head and may or may not have broke his nose once.

But Luca wasn't their to keep him in line now , was she?

The boy had puked on José causing the three to gag .

"It's not on my saint sebastion medal." José said taking it off , placing it on the washing machine.

"hey lets go look at Lou's porn stash!" The other two exclaimed going out of the room still gagging.

"Im gonna go take a shower to get this puke off me." José said walking to the showers , Luca not having any Idea as She dried her hair off , Her Chest binders already on along with her underwear.

-------

"Yo Luca you in He- Woah!" José exclaimed seeing Luca?,who started cursing him in spanish.

"I- Can explain- Yes Im a chick , and - STOP LOOKING!"

Gabriella Yelled covering herself .

"I-you , Eres una niña, tú- ¡por qué no me lo dijiste! , jesus , mi mejor amiga es una chica!? , ¿Alguna vez me ibas a decir?" José said , he wasn't mad , he just felt lied too.

(Your a girl , you- why didn't you tell me! , jesus , my bestfriend is a chick!? , Were you ever gonna tell me?)

"Okay , I - My dad and the others have a bet going on , I wanted to tell you I did , but then I knew if I told you you wouldn't look at me the same , your not even looking at me right now." Luc- No Gabriella said to him.

"Your in a towell Im giving you privacy , guess I know why you don't look at me when I have my shirt off, Two years Luca , two years we've known eachother,you thought you couldn't trust me or somthing !?" José exclaimed.

"I wanted to tell you , I was going to tell you a year ago , on that trip we took , but then the guys came in , sent you to do somthing." Gabriella said.

"I remember , they looked like they were plotting somthing , and I guess that's why your dad always slips up, Híjole! is that why your always so moody once a mon-OW!" José says thinking back,Exclaiming as he got wacked.

"I-Shut up!,Assuming you went to far because of the puke." Gabriella said wacking him again.

"No-Maybe,Look Im not mad , Okay I am - Wait Mom knew didn't she! That's why she likes you!" José exclaimed.

"My time of the month came a bit early once , the extra matress was stained ,that's how she found out,Are you mad,your mad , I'll leave and never com- Actually I can't do that Dad forces me to come here for extra credit." Gabriella said puting on a Black long sleeve and basket ball shorts.

"Lu- Is that even your name!" José exclaimed , he was going through it , damn She owes him for life.

"Guess I should re-introduced myself , Hi im

Gabriella "Luca" Tavares I'm the second best bat boy or in my case girl, and I really hope nothing is going to change between us." She stated.

José realized why he felt the way he felt , because in the back of his mind he knew

somthing was up , he knew why H-She never did things like come into the clubhouse without her eyes covered , never wore clothing that wasn't baggy , and never took of her hat , and he never see's her Play baseball alot , She would pitch but never was seen practicing , and Carlos would always make excuses for her to why She couldn't do this or that.

"I always knew somthing was off , but it was worth it , Cause I know no matter what

I'll always have you by my side,as my bestfriend , and as my - Girl?, which sounds really weird to say, Damn I've been hitting a chick!" He said.

"Yeah you have - But you better not treat me any different!" Gabriella sais pointing at him.

"Yea-yeah , I think I always knew , and I think I always Liked- no loved you , Boy or girl , and I didn't act on it , cause I didn't want our relationship to be ruined." José said as He took of his puke covered shirt.

"I - so we should- I should - Don't tell my dad you saw me half nsked , Imma go!" Gabriella exclaimed.

"Lu- Gabriela! , I meant it." José said.

"You did?" She questioned.

" I did , and I would totally kiss you right now if I didn't smell like puke , and we should probably take it slow- if you want our relationship to go there , do you want go there?" José asked , giving those puppy eyes he does.

honestly if you were to see the two of them you could say they were an alternate version of Eric and Jack or sean and Corey from boy meets world , you know with the plot twist were Bestfriend finds out the other is a girl , and they fall for eachother , Blah blah blah.

Anyways.....

"Don't give me those eyes - but yeah I would like that - I would like that alot actually, Also don't tell those four morons , I still wanna screw with them." She said as he let out a laugh.

"You meant it right? , nothings gonna change?" She said as she heard the shower start.

"I meant it ! , Luca , or Gabriella , now go see what they're doing." He exclaimed back.

She than left the restroom and José could have sworn a loud yes , Did he fall in love , yes he did , was it a plot twist , yeah it was.

Speaking of those morons they were up to no good.

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

Im not even don with this episode yet lmao stay tuned for part three 🤣🤣

#fanfic #wattpad #original character #jd pardo #j.d pardo #jeremy sumpter #clubhouse2004 #clubhouse #victoria moroles #hayden romero #teen wolf #baseball #sports

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prancis-film-reviews · 2 years

Text

Jurassic World: Dominion (2022) review:

THE WORST MOVIE FROM THE JURASSIC FRANCHISE?

review by: francis

It’s my first time falling asleep watching a movie in the theater. This never happened before so the movie was that bad.

The plot felt messy to me. There’s just too many to catch up and think about: Rescuing Beta, that girl’s DNA situation, the comeback of the franchise characters, the black dude and the Asian scientist and other more. It’s too much. Therefore, resulting in me falling asleep and finding the whole movie boring as the runtime is too long as well.

Some action sequences were good but most are boring to me. I think the only time I enjoyed seeing one was during that ice breaking scene with the feathered dinosaur.

CGI were great as expected and I love the inclusion of a variety of new dinosaurs like the scientifically accurate dinosaur finally displayed on screen.

The casts were great and each had their own moments. Bringing in the nostalgia device was a good addition to the movie. They didn’t feel left out and overshadowed by the new and current characters of the franchise.

I’ll rate “Jurassic World: Dominion” a 2/5 👎

Kinda mad by the way they marketed this movie. The whole teasers, trailers and the taglines were great and made me excited to watch the movie but the movie itself disappointed me.

Movie Info:

Rating: PG-13 (Language|Intense Sequences of Action|Some Violence)

Genre: Action, Adventure

Directed By: Colin Trevorrow

Release Date: June 8, 2022

Watch the trailer here!

youtube

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juletheghoul · 3 years

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Oblivius Chapter 4

Am I insane for posting another chapter? Yes. Am I doing it anyway? Yes. Should you message me about how you feel about Spills & Francis? YES!

(Got a song you want added to the playlist? send it to me!)

I've gotten so much love over this series and I cannot tell you how happy it makes me that you guys love these two idiots as much as I do. <3

(Feo means ugly in Spanish but it can be used as a term of endearment between [male] friends)

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Angst, yearning, 18+ language, alcohol (Spills gets wasted)(Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 3 Part 5 Playlist

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Age: 17

“No Francis I don’t wanna watch this - I’m gonna get scared.” It was late, you were both sitting in his cozy living-room, a big shit-eating grin on his face.

“Why, are you chicken? It’s just The Shining, it's not even scary.” He put it on and despite your protests, he settled and let the movie play, You gave him a pout.

“Okay if you really don’t want to I’ll change it you big baby.” He rolled his eyes to grab the remote but you stopped him.

“Promise you’ll walk me home?” You knew it was one of his favourites. He smiled wide.

“Of course! If it’s too much I'll change it.” He gave you most of the blanket that was draped over his legs and you sat very close to him. He was taller than you remembered him being, having gone through a growth spurt over the summer and he towered over you now. All knees and elbows.

When the room scene came on you burrowed your face into his neck and he wrapped an arm around you, you were so pretty. Your hair smelled so good and he buried his nose into the messy bun you wore. You practically clawed at him, trying to get closer - he made you feel safe.

“Is it still scary?” You spoke into his neck.

“Yes - don’t look yet, just a little longer.”

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

**Present Day**

Pope was holding up a shot-glass full of something and there were shots lined up for the three of you when you walked in.

“Catfish, I never thought it would happen for you feo, but I’m glad it did. Claudia, he’s lucky to have you.” He raised his shot glass and a chorus of ‘To Frankie and Claudia’ rang out before everyone tipped the liquor back.

The burn in the back of your throat couldn’t just be from the tequila, you’d swallowed a lump. You’d forced back the tears stinging your eyes when he dipped her back to kiss her. With her laughing and grabbing his neck they were the picture of romance and the smile you had plastered to your face must have looked manic. Popes eyes caught yours then and his eyebrows raised, a question in his features that you couldn’t quite read but he looked away and left you with your thoughts.

You got very drunk. Fall-down drunk. Forget about everything drunk.

“Spills, I think you should stop - you’re going to feel like hell tomorrow.” He was softly taking the shot out of your hand and you tried to fight him but his grip was iron.

“St-op t-telling me wh-what to do Francisco.” You tried to take it back but it seemed like the floor was coming up to say hi. An iron grip around your middle stopped you from losing a couple of teeth.

“Jesus Spills, okay - that’s enough. I’m cutting you off.” He held onto you and you wanted nothing more than to turn around and kiss him but you also wanted to throw up. Decisions decisions.

“I-think-imgonnabesick…” you brought your hand up to your mouth and part of you expected him to let go but he didn’t.

“Take a deep breath, it’s okay, Pope can you get me some water?” He was holding onto you, rubbing soothing circles onto your back and you tried to focus on his hands on you as the whole room spun dangerously. A few minutes later he was holding a cold glass of water to your lips. “Drink the whole thing, I'm going to hold it because if you spill it I'll kill you.” You chugged it down and he put it on the table.

“When did you get so strong, Francis?” Your words were slurred and you felt his chest rumbling with laughter at your question. “You smell so good.” You said it lower- more to yourself, but he heard and the laughing stopped.

“Oh no! Are you okay Spills?” Claudia was there now, her hands pulling your hair away from your face and before you could succumb to the urge to tell her never to call you that Frankie spoke up.

“She’s okay, just need to get her home. You’re okay right, Spills?” His voice was lower, so soothing you could fall asleep to it.

“Hey Frankie, you and Claudia should stay, tell me where she lives and I’ll get her home.” It was Pope, Frankie must have trusted him immensely because before you knew it he was putting you into the front seat of Pope's rental and buckling you in. Claudia was tying your hair back and putting your purse into your lap.

“Be careful please - this is her address, just make sure she gets in and lays face down. There should be a bucket somewhere in her bathroom - water and some aspirin on her night table.” Frankie was talking as you closed your eyes. When you opened them you were parked in front of your place.

“Hey honey, come on let's get you inside. I’m just going to look for your keys, okay?” Pope was taking your purse out of your lap. You nodded vaguely.

He helped you in and guided you to your bed. You could feel him taking off your shoes and throwing the blanket over you.

-----

Someone is driving an ice-pick into my skull.

The light was intense and you swore out loud when you cracked an eye open. You stretched and felt a piece of paper beside you on the bed.

“I locked your door - keys are in your mailbox. Drink the water - take the ibuprofen. Let Catfish know you’re okay when you wake up- he was worried. - Pope”

You groaned.

[Francis]: Spills, are you okay?

[Francis]: Can you answer me please?

[Francis]: Don’t tell me you’re still asleep? What, are you a teenager? Getting drunk and sleeping until 4pm????

[Francis]: Sorry Spills, just worried - can you please let me know you’re okay before I show up?

You could see the three little dots signalling that he was in the middle of typing another message and you quickly called him to stop him.

“Jesus, it’s about fucking time.” He sounded worried and relieved and it pulled on your heart strings in a way you both loved and hated.

“Stop yelling Francisco, I am begging you.” You threw your arm over your eyes to block out the light as you lay there, in yesterday's clothes. You didn’t even want to know what you looked like right now.

“Feeling all that tequila aren’t you? I haven’t seen you that drunk for a long time.” You could hear the faint smile in his voice.

“Yes yes I know - so fucking embarrasing. Did I do.. Or say anything..?” You were trying to ask him without asking him.

“You almost threw up, but if you’re asking me if you started table-dancing you’re good.” He laughed and you sighed with palpable relief. All you needed was for him to tell you that you’d confessed your love or told Claudia to fuck off.

“Thank god. That would have been all I needed. Can you tell Pope I said thanks? Okay, I'm going to go shower for a million years now.” You wanted to hang up, your head was pounding and you needed a few hours of silence and about a gallon of water.

“Okay - see you in a few hours.” You didn’t want to deal with both of them together, not with how you felt right now.

“No Francis I don’t want to entertain, I already embarrassed myself enough yesterday.”

“It’s just me coming and I’ve seen you much worse. I haven’t been home in a long time so, take a shower and do what you have to do and I'll be there at seven.” He hung up and you could have thrown your phone across the room.

Fuck.

---

The knock at the door at exactly seven didn’t surprise you.

What did surprise you was how nervous you were that he would be coming over.

You were literally attached at the hip at one point, he’s seen you at your worst.

“You’re looking much better than you did last night, Spills.” He laughed as he walked past you and into your home.

“Oh god.” You groaned as he laughed, why had you been nervous? You watched him as he set down the bags of what looked to be way too much food on your kitchen counter. Grabbing napkins and forks - completely at ease within your space. “What did you bring?” moved to peak into the bags.

“Chinese - “ He looked to see your eyes wide and the big toothy smile you were giving him and laughed. “Did you think I’d forget you always get Chinese when you’re hungover?” He laughed as he took out what looked to be all your favourites.

“You’re a lifesaver Francis, truly.” You were practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you served yourself.

“I know, I’m practically a saint.” He walked over to your couch and plopped down, an egg-roll in his mouth as he turned on your TV and looked for something to watch. This was it - this was how it was supposed to be.

This was easy.

He had come over in comfy clothes and seeing him on your couch in sweats and a soft flannel was almost too much. His hair had gotten longer than he had worn it before he went away and it looked so soft; practically begged for your fingers.

“Are you still a baby about horror movies?” He asked without looking at you, you saw that he had put on some cheesy zombie movie. A big smile on his face.

“No, I’m okay, as long as you check every single corner of this place before you leave.”

“God I love horror movies, Claudia hates them so we never end up watching.” He sighed. Her name cut through the air like a knife. An ice cube casually dropped into your shirt.

“That’s too bad.” You quickly shoved food into your mouth, stopping yourself from saying anything you’d regret but he knew you too well. He looked at you then, eyes narrowing a fraction.

“Do you like her?” He asked, point blank and your eyes widened at him.

Fuck, don’t make me answer this right now.

“Yeah, she’s great.” To your credit, you tried. You really tried to sound genuine.

“Why don’t you like her Spills?” He sighed heavily, putting his plate down onto your coffee table to face you properly.

“What are you talking about? I said she was great!” You could feel the flush creeping up your neck and licking at your face at the lie. She was great, that wasn’t a lie - you just didn’t like her.

“Seriously? You’re going to act like I can’t tell you’re lying through your teeth? Just tell me! I’m going to marry this girl. I have to know why you don’t like her.” He had a little frown on his face and you could see that he was worried, but what would he have to be worried about? Worried you’d picked up on something he’d missed maybe?

“I just don’t know her, Francis, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with her, you know I'm just weird. She seems really nice and I’m sure I’ll like her once I get to know her better.” You smiled at him sadly, you didn’t want to talk about her anymore.

He smiled back at you and picked up his plate, happy with your explanation.

---

It always seemed to happen this way, ever since you’d been teenagers. He’d put on something scary and you would end up with your face buried into his chest.

“Oh god - that is disgusting!” You shut your eyes as he laughed, his chest rumbling underneath you at a particularly gruesome scene. You felt his hand rubbing your arm, and it was such a comfort that you sighed lightly. The words bubbled up without your permission.

“I missed this.” You felt him rest his chin on the crown of your head.

“Me too Spills, I always missed this while I was away, missed you.” He spoke into your hair, you could feel his breath ghosting along your scalp and your heart raced, you wanted nothing more than to turn and kiss him. His hand stilled, and you felt his heart beating under your ear. You wanted to do it, your whole body seemed to tense with want and you turned slightly to look at him through your lashes. He was already staring at you, his mouth was so close.

His phone rang, snapping him out of his trance and you moved away from him reluctantly.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” He smiled apologetically. “Just take a deep breath, it’ll be okay. I’m on my way.” He hung up and gave you a look that said I’m sorry. “Gotta go, wedding emergency.” He sighed heavily as he got up, taking both your plates to the kitchen with him.

You wanted him to stay, you wanted to grab him and sit him back down on the couch and straddle him. Grab the soft material of the flannel while you kissed him but you didn’t. Instead you smiled and thanked him for coming and for the food.

He made his way through the apartment before he left, opening every door.

“Just checking every corner, so you can sleep.” He smiled.

I love you too.

————————————

Tag list: @frannyzooey @foli-vora @danniburgh @sambucky21 @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @mouthymandalorian @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl @sleep-tight1 @softdindjxrin @wheresarizona @sherala007 @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @greeneyedblondie44 @maxwell--lord @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @dihra-vesa @gaiuswrites @stevie75 @sweet-creature98 @readsalot73 @tobealostwanderer @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @goldielocks2004 @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @bellaorisa @hellovanessax

#pedro pascal #frankie x reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #oblivius #frankie x female reader #frankie x you #frankie x f!reader

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gallavictorious · 3 years

Text

Gallavich Week Day 2: Fantasy AU

Summary: Prince Ian is offered up as a sacrifice to appease one of the dragons that haunt his father’s kingdom. Rather than being burned alive or eaten he is inexplicably left to wander the dragon’s lair in peace, as long as he never tries to leave and never enters the mysterious tower chamber. Then he meets fellow prisoner Mikhailo and starts to wonder if maybe this whole sacrificial gig isn’t such a bad deal after all.

Or, Ian Gallagher tells a bedtime story, and Mickey Milkovich is himself.

Fair Warning 1: There’s some Mickey-typical homophobic language in this one.

Fair Warning 2: I wrote all ridiculous 5K of this today (work? what work?) and it’s a little bit of a curious mess. Like, the sort of curious mess you get if you take Lip’s Hall of Shame, @gardenerian’s lovely bedtime stories, the novel “Dealing with Dragons” by Patricia Wrede, the Swedish picture book “Bröllop i Marsipanien” by Lena Karlin, the Greek myth of Andromeda, a bunch of folk tales about shapeshifting lovers, and the questionable old practice of MSTing fics, and then you stuff them all into a Kee and shake her around for a bit and then you pour it out into the shape of a 12 hour long and highly inadvisable speedwriting session.

Read it at your own risk, below or on AO3.

Very Important Note: I make fun of fic writing in this fic. Please note that I’m only making fun of myself and general tropes; any and all allusions to actual fic in the fandom is entirely coincidental.

---

Lest They Say, Here Be Dragons

Hush now, child; settle down. Close your eyes – yes, just like that – and listen:

Once upon a time and elsewhere, there was a kingdom. The people there were no happier than people anywhere else, and poorer than most, but they made do and lived and danced and grieved and died as people have always done.

Jesus, that’s gay.

That is, until the dragons came.

Okay, now you’re talking.

Like a plague they swept the land, winged beasts with fire for breath and ice in their hearts. Every night the fields burned, and the villages burned, and the cattle burned and was eaten. Many a brave people took up arms and went to confront the monsters, and then they burned too.

Heart-broken and terrified, the people went to the king to plead for aid. “Send an emissary to the dragons,” they said. “Reason with them and strike a bargain, or else we are sure to perish.”

What a bunch of pussies. What they should do is, they should use a bunch a cow shit to build a bomb and nuke the hell out of those dragons. Problem fucking solved.

Now, this king was a scoundrel and a drunk and the queen had an unfortunate habit of turning herself into a bird and flying off to more interesting lands whenever the mood took her. They had six children but rarely paid them any mind and fair Princess Fiona, eldest of the six, was left to raise her younger siblings as best she could. False King Francis would have been perfectly content to turn his desperate subjects away if it weren’t for the fact the dragons unchecked rampage threatened the production of the spirits the king so enjoyed. So, donning a mask of compassionate concern, for he was a skilled liar, he promised the people that he would help them. But as soon as they had left, comforted, he turned the task over to his children.

The second oldest child, foxy Prince Philip—

Foxy Prince Philip?

Yeah, you know. Foxy. Like clever.

Why not just say clever then?

‘Cause it’s not alliterative.

Alliter—

Starts with the same sound. Foxy – Philip. Fair – Fiona.

Oh, I get it. Like, Ian – idiot. Ow!

Foxy Prince Philip was known far and wide for being the cleverest in all the land, and by using all his cunning he managed to strike a deal with the leader of the dragons.

“By using all his cunning.” Skimming over the details a bit there, huh?

You really want me to turn this into a Prince Philip story? Hear me go on and on about what a genius he is?

…

Yeah, that’s what I thought.

It was agreed that the dragons would spread out over the kingdom, each one building their own place to live near a village, and that the villagers would bring them food and drink. In turn, the dragons would refrain from casual pyromancy and protect the villagers from harm.

Protection racket, huh. Classic. Starting to like these dragons, man.

In addition, the cruel leader of the dragons demanded that each dragon be offered a child of the land in sacrifice. No matter how Prince Philip bargained he could not change the dragon’s cold heart on this—

Guess he wasn’t so clever after all.

—and so, with heavy hearts and much lamenting, each village drew lots to determine which poor child would be sent as an offering to their new resident dragon. However, in the village nearest to the castle the people grew angry when the beloved blacksmith’s only child, a small girl of just four, was selected, and they went to the king and they said:

“It isn’t fair that some people are asked to give up their only child to appease the dragons while you, who have six children, are exempt from the lottery.”

King Francis, fearing an uprising as much as he feared the dragons (since each was as likely as the other to leave him without a drink), quickly nodded.

“That’s true,” he said. “And fairness must ever be the true monarchs first and most important concern. Though it breaks my heart, I can’t in good conscience watch my people sacrifice their own children without offering up my own. You may take Prince Ian and give him to the dragon.”

At this, the other princes and princesses raised their voices in furious protest, for they loved their brother even if their father did not. But industrious Prince Ian—

Industrious? That really the best you can come up with?

—stepped forward and declared that he’d be happy to give up his life, so that the child of the blacksmith might be spared. And so, as the sunt set, he was taken away to the lair of the dragon that had made its home near the castle.

So let me get this straight… The king is happy to toss Prince Ian to the wolves ‘cause he hates him, and his siblings are all sad and shit but they still let him go off to get fucking eaten by dragons?

Yes.

Uh-huh.

What?

…

Oh, fuck you. It’s just a story.

Totally.

Stepping into the lair, with heart a-hammering but on stubbornly steady legs, Prince Ian set eyes upon the beast that was to be his destiny. He was momentarily relieved to see it was not the terrible leader of the dragons, as he had feared, but a smaller monster he did not recognize. Black was its hide, its eyes a cold sparkling blue—

Gallagher, I swear to god, if you turn me into some lame ass henchman dragon—

Keep interrupting, asshole, and it’ll be a pink fucking unicorn. And hang on, you’ll show up in a little bit.

Setting his jaw, Prince Ian prepared to die a heroic death—

‘Course he did, the stupid motherfucker. Hey, if Prince Philip was so fucking smart, and if he gave a shit about his brother, shouldn’t he have given him, I dunno, a knife or something?

Prince Ian prepared to die a heroic death, because unlike some other people he was not a selfish prick and he actually cared about the people of the kingdom, but much to his surprise the dragon did not burn him. Instead, it just stared at him for a good long while, until suddenly it declared:

“You must never leave the lair, and you must never set foot inside the tower chamber. Abide by these rules and you may live. Break these rules and I’ll rip your heart out and eat it while you watch, and then I’ll burn the castle down with your beloved siblings inside.”

You tell him, dragon.

With that the dragon took flight and disappeared, leaving Prince Ian to stand alone in the great hall of the lair, confused but alive. The young prince remained where he was for a few minutes, thinking that the dragon might come back, but when it did not he set out to explore his new home. It was big, with endless rooms and nooks and crannies, but it was badly kept, with strange bits and pieces cluttering up the hallways and chambers. Prince Ian found some old blankets and he used those to set up a pallet in one of the nicer rooms, one that had a view over a small, overgrown garden. And then, because it was very late and he was not dead, he went to sleep.

The next day he continued his explorations and managed to find the kitchen. It was full with the meat that the villagers brought the dragon once a month, and remembering that the beast had only forbidden him from leaving the lair and going into the tower chamber, Prince Ian helped himself to a piece of pork that he cooked over a small fire.

Hang on, was there a fridge in the kitchen?

No. This was the olden days.

But the villagers came once a month with the meat? How did the dragon keep from rotting?

That’s not really—

Was it dried? Like a Slim Jim?

… sure. It was dried.

As he was eating, Prince Ian heard a sudden scraping noise behind him.

The hell did he cook it over a fire for then, if it was dried?

He looked up and spied another young man standing in the doorway.

I’m just saying, it doesn’t make any fucking sense, man. Wait, is this me?

Prince Ian frowned. “Who are you?” he asked. “Are you a prisoner of the dragon too?”

The boy shrugged. “Uh, yeah. I guess. I mean, I do some work around here. Clean up and shit, in exchange for not getting eaten. Name’s Mikhailo.”

About fucking time. Only, how is it fair that you get to be prince and I’m a fucking cleaner?

Prince Ian tactfully did not mention how the lair was impressively dirty for a place with a fulltime cleaner but invited Mikhailo to share his meal. As they ate, Prince Ian studied his new acquaintance. He was the same age as but shorter than the prince, with skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood, and hair as black as ebony.

Hair as black as— The hell was that?

Nothing.

Yeah, okay, then why are you smiling? Eh, fuck you. Prince Ian’s fucking thirsty for Mikhailo, I get it.

Though his manner was somewhat brusque and uncouth, Prince Ian could not help but feel himself drawn to Mikhailo. The boy was funny and easy to talk to, even if he seemed reluctant to say too much about himself or where he came from. Prince Ian tried asking him about the dragon, but despite apparently having lived there ever since the dragon moved in, Mikhailo couldn’t tell him much.

“Hardly ever even see it, man. At dusk and dawn mostly, so I guess it spends the night flying around with the other dragons, terrorizing the peasants or whatever. During the day it holes up in the tower chamber. Guess dragons must sleep too, huh? Don’t fucking go up there,” he added sternly. “It ain’t fucking kidding about killing you if you do.”

Having found a friend, Prince Ian found that life at the dragon’s lair wasn’t all that bad. He missed his siblings and being outdoors and practicing with the soldiers at the castle, and he resented the loss of his freedom, but he enjoyed the peace and quiet, and enjoyed spending time with Mikhailo. However, one thing he soon grew very tired of was eating nothing but meat. The dragon didn’t seem to require anything else, for it was the only thing the villagers ever delivered, and Mikhailo – whose tasks included receiving the monthly tribute – just gave Prince Ian a weird look when Ian suggested he ask the people to bring some vegetables next month.

“That ain’t the deal they’ve got with the dragon,” he told Ian. “Ain’t nobody gonna listen to me if I go trying to change it.”

Yeah, real Prince Charming there, wanting Mikhailo to risk his life so Ian can stuff his face with fucking cucumber.

Undeterred by Mikhailo’s lack of enthusiasm and courage—

Fuck you.

—Prince Ian decided to take it up with the dragon himself. In the weeks since he arrived at the lair, he hadn’t met the creature again, not even once; he’d just heard the powerful swoosh of its wings when it came and went at dusk and dawn. Now he went up the stairs to the tower chamber and there he waited until night had fallen and he noted the scraping of claws against stone inside the room. Then he knocked at the door.

There was a long silence. Then the door slammed open with enough force to nearly undo it from its hinges.

“What are you doing here?!” the dragon roared, terrible in its fury. “I’ve told you to never come here!”

“You’ve told me to never set foot inside the room,” Ian reasoned, fighting to keep his voice calm. “And I’m not. I just wanted to ask if I may have the use of the small garden just outside the lair. I miss being outdoors and I could grow vegetables for Mikhailo and me.”

Jesus Christ, man, again with gardening? Thought you were over it.

“You may never leave the lair,” the dragon, a garden-hating meanie, snarled, and then he closed the door in Prince Ian’s face.

As he fucking should.

“Probably worried one of the villagers will spot you and, I dunno, mount a rescue,” Mikhailo said shortly the next morning when Prince Ian told him of his failed attempt. “Anyway, you’re a fucking idiot for going up there like that. You get it won’t hesitate to kill you, right?”

“Right,” Ian agreed. “But,” he added with a frown, “why hasn’t it yet?”

“You fucking complaining?” Mikhailo snapped, and then he stalked away, and Ian didn’t see him again for three days.

Listen, you get that I get that Mikhailo is the dragon, right? You’re not fooling anyone, Gallagher.

Then, one day, fed up with the dragon being a really annoying prick, Prince Ian grabbed a huge sword he conveniently found lying around in a cupboard, because the lair was a fucking pigsty, suitable for a pig like the dragon, and he went up the stairs and kicked in the door and he cut the dragon’s throat while it slept, and then he went off and found himself a nice prince to marry.

…

That’s not how the story ends.

…

Hey, where are you going? Come back- Jesus, I’m sorry, okay? Gallagher, I’m sorry. Just come back here. Tell me what really happened.

Prince Ian woke with a start on his pallet in the lair. He’d had the most vivid dream about killing the dragon—

A dream? That’s the lamest fucking— Ah, fuck. Sorry.

—but for some reason it hadn’t felt as satisfying as he had thought it would. For all that Prince Ian often fantasized about strangling the beast, it seemed he didn’t actually wish to see it dead. With that disconcerting realization in mind, Prince Ian went to break his fast, resigned to doing so on meat and yet more meat. But in the kitchen he found Mikhailo, and on the table in front of him was a pile of cabbage and carrots and onions.

“Guess the dragon must have talked to the villagers after all,” Mikhailo muttered, refusing to look at the prince. “And, uh, there was this thing I wanted to show you.”

Without waiting for a response, he spun around on his heel and walked out the door. Curious, Prince Ian followed, through doors and up and down stairs he never knew existed. Eventually, he found himself standing in what appeared to be an inner courtyard. It was small and the walls surrounding it very high, but up above the sky was blue. Prince Ian turned his face towards it and for the first time since he came to live at the dragon’s lair he felt sunlight on his face.

“It’s a shithole,” Mikhailo said. For some reason he sounded a little nervous. “But if you wanna go outside, you can come here. And there’s dirt in those bins, so I guess you could grow stuff in them? Just gotta wear this hat. Anyone sees you, they’ll just think it’s me.”

Privately, Prince Ian wondered who’d ever be able to see him behind walls that high, but he wasn’t going to argue. Wearing an ugly had was a small price to pay for being able to go outside, and to have a garden.

He gave Mikhailo a small smile; Mikhailo smiled back.

“Mikhailo smiled back.” Yeah, you bet he was laughing his ass off, ‘cause he thought Prince Ian was a huge fucking dork.

Things were good for a long while after that. Prince Ian spent his days in the garden and in Mikhailo’s company, and though he still resented being locked away from the world it was easy to ignore that when he had something to do and when his plants started to grow and when he was with Mikhailo. The two young men became closer and closer with each passing week, and soon it seemed to Prince Ian as if they had always known each other. He could no longer imagine a life without his friend.

He suspected that Mikhailo felt the same. It was there in the way he laughed at Prince Ian’s jokes; the way he sought him out to do nothing but talk; the way his gaze sometimes lingered on the prince, the look in his eyes unreadable.

Prince Ian suspected that Mikhailo too wondered what it would be like to press their lips together and hold each other tight. Sleep together; map every inch of each other’s bodies.

Hang on a minute, you’re telling me they haven’t fucked yet? The hell they’ve been doing?

I told you. Hanging out. Talking. Laughing.

Jesus Christ, that’s so fucking gay.

Two men not fucking each other is gay? Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. One day we really need to talk about all your internalized homophobia.

My interna-what? Ah, shut the fuck up. Continue with the story. All these interruptions ain’t doing much for the flow, you know.

Really? I hadn’t noticed.

Prince Ian became determined to find out if Mikhailo felt the same way as he did. He realized that he needed to be careful, however, and not push too hard, lest he spook the other boy. Even though he was almost sure he could see longing in Mikhailo’s eyes, there seemed to be some invisible hand holding him back. Every time Prince Ian was convinced they were finally getting somewhere, Mikhailo would suddenly pull back, as if stung.

Or as if remembering something. Himself, maybe.

Bu then came a cold, clear autumn day almost exactly one year after Prince Ian had been taken to the dragon’s lair.

Whoa, wait, now you’re telling me they’ve been hanging out for one fucking year and they still haven’t banged?

What can I say? Mikhailo’s a pussy.

Whatever. This story is unrealistic as fuck.

Prince Ian and Mikhailo had spent the afternoon together in the garden, as they almost always did whenever Mikhailo wasn’t busy with any of his mysterious chores (which he still refused to tell Prince Ian much about, but which sometimes took him away from the lair for days at a time). Once it started getting dark they went inside and dined on chicken and potatoes from Prince Ian’s patch, and as so often happened they started bickering and play fighting.

If that’s something that happens a lot you might have mentioned it earlier. Established it or whatever. Those mysterious chores too. What’s that all about?

Oh, my bad. Maybe I should start over? Once upon and time—

Nah, man, you’re good. Just a suggestion for next time.

Thank you.

You’re welcome.

They were chasing each other around the kitchen when Mikhailo tripped over the muddy shoes he’d lazily left there the night before and fell to the floor.

You know these meaningful little comments ain’t actually clever, right? They don’t actually add anything to the story.

I like them.

Prince Ian, ever chivalrous, grabbed hold of his friend’s arm to break his fall, but ended up going down with him instead, pinning Mikhailo to the floor with his big, strong body.

Fucking finally.

Their eyes met and Prince Ian felt his heart starting to beat faster. He could see a faint blush spreading over Mikhailo’s face. Neither of them spoke; neither of them moved. Then, slowly, slowly, Prince Ian leaned in to brush his lips over Mikhailo’s. Mikhailo lifted his head to meet him in a kiss to end all other kisses, a kiss to inspire a thousand love songs.

Uh-huh, and then…

And then they went to Prince Ian’s room and had sex all night long. But when Prince Ian woke the next morning—

Wait, wait, what? That’s it? “They had sex all night long.” How about some fucking detail, man?

Fine.

After having great sex using lots of good lube all night long, Prince Ian woke up alone in his bed.

I hate you.

He went in search of Mikhailo but couldn’t find his friend anywhere. He looked in the garden and in the kitchen and he went to the sad little cellar chamber Mikhailo called his room even though Prince Ian had never actually seen him sleep there.

Because he’s the dragon and sleeps in the tower chamber. Great hint, Gallagher. Real subtle.

Fuck off.

A week passed and Prince Ian was starting to suspect that Mikhailo was gone for good this time. Perhaps the dragon had found out about their tryst and had sent him away? Or maybe Mikhailo was disgusted with what had happened and wanted nothing more to do with the prince? Prince Ian wondered and worried and feared, and when finally Mikhailo returned, stepping into the kitchen like nothing had happened, Prince Ian was so exhausted with terror and regret that his relief immediately transformed into fury.

He yelled at Mikhailo, called him names and demanded to know where he’d been. He named him a coward and—

…

Hey, what’s the matter? You okay?

Yeah. Yeah, man, I’m fine.

You don’t look— Listen, Prince Ian’s just being an asshole, okay? He saying a bunch of stupid shit ‘cause he’s sick and tired of not knowing if he means as much to Mikhailo as Mickhailo means to him. He doesn’t mean it.

…

Mick?

I mean… He probably means it a little. He’s not wrong.

No, he’s— Fine. He means it a little right then. But he is wrong, okay? He doesn’t really understand what’s going on with Mikhailo, but he’ll get it later. He’ll know he wasn’t being really fair.

… yeah?

Yeah. Okay?

Okay.

Great. Maybe we should speed this bit up a little—

Once Prince Ian had finished shouting, Mikhailo just stared at him for a long moment.

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about,” he spat, and then he spun around and disappeared through the door.

Prince Ian was immediately overcome with regret, yet he was still too angry and hurt and stubborn to run after the other. He went about his day in a very foul mood and when he went to bed that night Mikhailo was still gone. Prince Ian slept fitfully and in the middle of the night he woke to a loud crash, soon followed by several more. He realized it must have come form the tower chamber and after a moment of hesitation he grabbed his nightgown and rushed up the stairs.

So, he brought a nightgown with him when he thought the dragon was going to kill him?

Of course not. He found it in one of the rooms.

Yeah, okay, but why are there so many rooms in this fucking lair anyway? What’s with all the old stuff there? Didn’t the dragon build the place to live in like right before Prince Ian was sent there?

Mickey. It’s getting late and I’d really love to wrap this up and go to bed. It doesn’t really matter about the rooms. Can I just continue with the story?

Whatever, man. Just thought you should know there’s a bunch of plot holes in your little fairy tale.

Once he reached the door to the forbidden room, the crashing noises had stopped. Instead, Prince Ian heard whimpers and moaning, as if from someone in great pain. It could only be the dragon – something must be wrong with it.

Yeah, ya think, Sherlock?

Prince Ian knocked on the door. There was no reply, other than more whimpers and moans. Steeling himself, he tried the handle. The door was unlocked.

That’s awfully convenient.

Stepping inside, Prince Ian found the dragon on the floor. It was clearly hurt, for there was dark blood pooling underneath it. As Prince Ian entered, the great beast lifted its head but said nothing and made no move to attack him. It seemed it was too badly hurt to pose any threat.

It occurred to Prince Ian that he could kill the dragon. He could go down to the kitchen and fetch the biggest knife there and then he’d be free and he could go back to the castle and his siblings and—

The dragon made a low, pained sound and let its head fall back to the floor, closing its eyes.

Prince Ian went down the stairs, but he didn’t fetch a knife, he fetched bandages instead. Though part of him cursed himself for a fool, he knew he couldn’t bring himself to kill the dragon, monster or not, and couldn’t bring himself to let it bleed to death either.

That’s a huge fucking mistake. Maybe the dragon never hurt him but it still kept him imprisoned. Prince Ian should be getting the hell out of there when he has the chance.

Hmm, yeah. Choosing to be locked up just to be the person you love does sound like a pretty insane thing to do.

Oh, fuck off. That’s totally different.

Sure, Mick.

By the time Prince Ian returned to the tower the dragon had lost consciousness. The prince set to cleaning and bandaging his wounds, having learned the art of it while training with a medical witch who lived at the castle. It took a great long while; the dragon was large and heavy and the cuts in its side long, if shallow. But Prince Ian was nothing if not determined and eventually he had the beast wrapped up.

As Ian moved to rise, the dragon stirred.

“The hell are you doing?” it muttered, blinking up at Ian. Then it spotted the bandages, and the ice blue eyes widened. “What the— Are you fucking insane? This is a... is a… real bad fucking idea… ”

It sounded… strange, and not just from the pain and blood loss, Prince Ian thought. Sounded not just slurred but softer somehow, in spite of the uncharacteristic cursing; sounded almost familiar; sounded like—

“Mikhailo,” Prince Ian whispered.

Ooooh, big surprise! I’m so shocked right now!

You know there are other uses for plot twists than to shock the reader, right? Or actually, I guess you don’t know, but if you picked up a book once in a while—

Yeah, yeah, whatever. What happened after this great and totally unexpected reveal?

The dragon lost consciousness again so Prince Ian went to bed and slept soundly and when he woke the next day he spotted Mikhailo leaning against the wall of his room, looking tired ad unhappy. He was even paler than usually and there was a stiffness to his posture that suggested quite a bit of pain, but other than that he seemed well enough.

“So,” Prince Ian said, trying for casualness as he sat up on his pallet. “You’re a dragon.”

Mikhailo shrugged. “Seems like it.”

“But only by night.”

“Yeah… We turn when the sun sets, and turn back again when it rises.”

“I didn’t know that about dragons.”

“No one around here fucking does. People realize how helpless we are during the day, they’d kill us in a heartbeat. My dad says— “

“Your dad?”

“The leader of the dragons. The really big, white one? This whole terror and extortion thing was his idea, once he realized that no one in this kingdom has a clue about dragons.”

“Oh.”

“He hates humans. Thinks they’re useless and weak. If he knew I kept you around instead of killing you, he’d have murdered us both.”

Jesus fucking Christ, laying it on a bit thick with the metaphysical shit there, don’t ya think?

You mean metaphorical?

I mean it’s fucking stupid, that’s what I mean.

Might be closer to allegory anyway.

Uh-huh. Nobody fucking cares, Shakespeare.

“So, anyway,” Mikhailo continued, “you should probably try to go as far away from here as possible. Find a ship and go across the sea or something.”

Prince Ian blinked. “What?”

“Yeah, man, you won’t be able to go back to your castle. No way to stay hidden there. I know this guy up in Dikno, he might—”

He fell silent as Prince Ian jumped up from the bed and crossed the space between them in two long strides, and then he gasped loudly as the prince’s lips found his.

It was another one to inspire love songs.

“You idiot,” Prince Ian said fondly when eventually they broke apart. “Of course I’m not going anywhere. Unless,” he added, suddenly shy, “you want me to.”

Mikhailo made a face. “No, you fucking moron, I don’t want you to go,” he finally said. “But my dad—”

“We’ll find a way to deal with him. We’ll figure out how to sort it out and set things right between humans and dragons. We’ll find a way, together. Okay?”

And Mikhailo the dragon looked at his prince for a long moment and then he smiled. “Okay.”

At his prince, huh. Surprised you got room for all those big words in your head when your ego’s taking up so much space. All right, then what happened?

They organized a rebellion against the leader of the dragons, I guess. I don’t really know. That’s another story.

What do you mean, another story? Is this it? You spend all that time setting it up but when you get to the good part with the fighting you just stop?

Yeah, it’s getting really late. Kid’s asleep anyway.

Kid’s been out cold since, like, before the dragons even showed up, man, don’t fucking pretend this story was for her. … you really not gonna continue?

Nah, I’ll continue. But for the next scene I figured we might try a little show, don’t tell…

Oh, really? What’s the next scene?

Make-up sex. Prince Ian fucking Mikhailo’s brains out. And hey, spoiler alert: Mikhailo comes four times.

Four times, huh.

Yeah. So… wanna know how it happens?

Okay.

Okay. It starts like this—

---

So, yeah. There we have it. The things we write for Gallavich Week… XD

I am halfway outraged that this is the longest fic I’ve ever written for Gallavich, but I’m rather pleased I managed to write something for this theme! Guess I’ll go to bed both proud and embarrassed and dead tired tonight. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Where I am, we’re half an hour past midnight, but seeing as it’s still Monday somewhere, I have decided that I’m posting on time. Yay me! @gallavichthings

#gallavich #gallavich week 2021 #gw2021 #fic #what have i done #my stuff

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pillow-anime-talk · 4 years

Text

traditional & maternal s/o.

synopsis: You as a beautiful, traditionally dressed and perfectly behaved woman who shows maternal behavior towards your partner’s subordinates.

# tags: headcanons; current relationships; mature!reader; romance; fluff; slice of life; sfw

includes: female reader ft. yukichi fukuzawa, ougai mori & francis scott key fitzgerald {bsd}

— YUKICHI

↘ Fukuzawa is also a traditional man, so when he met you for the first time, he was genuinely delighted with your grace and your way of speaking. Your delicate tone of voice and perception of the world made a huge, positive impression on him. On top of that, you were really beautiful, and your flowery yukata perfectly highlighted your pretty smile, eye color and hair.

↘ You were adults, so your feelings towards each other were slow and mature. However, when you finally got into a relationship, shortly after that, you lived together in a beautiful old minka with a huge engawa, where you loved to relax and talk about his day at work or plans for the future.

↘ You made the most delicious tea in the whole world and you were a great housewife who loved to cook, bake and take care of others. Yukichi was even happier when you brought to home a homeless little kitten with a twisted paw one day. You took care of him together, considering the pet as your first baby.

↘ More than six months after you moved in together, you visited your partner at the Agency for the first time. Fukuzawa talked to you about his subordinates more than once, showed you their photos and always smiled slightly. And when Kyouka – who was wearing traditional Japanese clothes just like you – joined the Armed Detective Agency the man said that you two looked quite similar.

↘ When on that day, you crossed the area of the building and then knocked on the wooden door, you sighed a little, a bit stressful about meeting new people. Shortly thereafter, a tall, blonde-haired boy with a green notebook in his hand appeared on your doorstep and greeted you. You bowed as well, and then with his consent, you entered the office.

↘ “Have you had an appointment on any case, Lady? How can I help you?” Kunikida asked in a polite tone, and you shook your head.

↘ “I came privately. I made some mochi for you, kids.” You responded warmly. Your person immediately interested Ranpo, Atsushi and Dazai. “Ah, I didn’t introduce myself, I’m so sorry. I am Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you all. Also thank you for taking care of our beautiful city.”

↘ “... How did I deserve to meet such a wonderf...” Osamu began with a broad smile, but the newspaper that hit him on the head silenced his happy lips immediately.

↘ “Stop scaring my partner, Dazai.” Fukuzawa walked towards you, standing next to your figure. “Something happened that you came?”

↘ “Oh, no, Yukichi. I just wanted to meet your almost adopted children.” You smiled at everyone in the room. “And I’ve done too much mochi.” You added when you went to one of the desks to lay out the colorful sweets. The members of the Agency were fascinated with you from the first second.

↘ Yosano was really happy to see her President with a woman who was so perfect for him. Kyouka immediately saw her deceased mother in you and held your yukata with each subsequent meeting, following you step by step. Naomi and Kirako loved hearing your stories and always asked you for tasty recipes. Atsushi, Kenji and Ranpo were your little babies to you, while Jun’ichirou was like your eldest son. Kunikida, on the other hand, was terribly ashamed of you, but finally overcame his shyness, stating that you were a wonderful woman and the future wife of his master. Dazai liked you, of course; even though you often scolded him because of his behavior, he still adored you and respected your person very much.

↘ Your beloved was more than pleased to see that you had such a good relation with his subordinates. You even had great contacts with Fukuzawa’s mentor, Mr. Natsume. It all confirmed Yukichi’s thoughts that you were the best woman he could ever meet.

— OUGAI

↘ Mori wasn’t surprised that another woman around him dressed in traditional kimonos and tied her hair in beautiful buns or braids. After all, he had Kouyou under his command, and before that, also had the sweet Kyouka.

↘ However, what got you all his attention is your kindness and dedication to others.

↘ Neither you, nor Ougai, nor even Elise will forget the day when three of you met in the middle of the street and at the same moment a thief ran out of the bank and his hand with the gun was automatically directed towards Elise who standing next to you. You covered her with your own body, fearing that a stranger would hurt her, but luckily nothing like that came, because Mori personally knocked him out and then calmed your terrified thoughts.

↘ He sincerely thanked you, then suggested a walk and a coffee in a nearby bar. Elise held your warm hand all the way and you were literally the first person the girl liked and trusted so quickly. I think she saw the mother in you, though she shouldn’t have thought so, since she was only Mori’s ability.

↘ But now we are here, a few weeks later, when you recognized the girl as your beloved daughter, and at the same time you became the wife of the boss of the Port Mafia, knowing very well what could happen to you.

↘ But even that, your relationship was really nice and warm; the man finally had someone to come back to, he had someone to talk to about something more than just work, he could cuddle someone and watch a movie or cook a delicious dinner together. Additionally, Elise could finally feel like a real, normal girl and could protect someone more than her own creator. They were both sincerely in love with you, albeit on different levels of this feeling.

↘ Your meeting the rest of the Mafia members was totally unplanned, because one afternoon your beloved husband called you to ask for important documents that he left in a locker, in his office, in your shared small apartment. Of course, you agreed to bring them to him, and on the way to the building you also went to the bakery to buy him and the cute girl something sweet to eat; you chose tiny fruit tarts and a few donuts.

↘ Ten minutes later, you entered the huge building very calmly, looking around to find an elevator or stairs. When you moved another few steps, you immediately stopped when the figure of blonde-haired Elise with a huge syringe appeared in front of you, and a black-haired – unknown to you – boy was thrown hard against the nearest wall.

↘ “Akutagawa senpai!”

↘ Your eyes widened when Elise hugged your stomach, covered by flowery, long yukata. You were still looking at the boy lying next to the white wall, who a second ago wanted to overpower you, probably considering you a threat from outside. You understood it perfectly well, after all, the Mafia had many enemies.

↘ “... Don’t touch my okaa-san!” The girl screamed, squeezing your body a little tighter. You touched her smol head, stroking the blonde locks, and smiled warmly.

↘ “Elise, my honey, you shouldn’t treat others like that, okay?” You asked softly, to which the girl nodded uncertainly. The security staff next to you, as well as Akutagawa and Higuchi, were shocked by Elise’s polite behavior towards your person. Who were you? “Where’s Ougai, my honey?”

↘ “He’ll be here soon. I was faster than him because I sensed you entering the building. I just wanted to say hi.” She replied with a blush and you laughed softly. “It’s for me?” She asked suddenly, pointing her finger at a paper bag with the smell of icing and kiwi. You nodded and handed her the brown bag full of sweets, then headed towards the still-lying boy and woman with the two guns in her hands.

↘ “Are you okay? I’m so sorry to cause the confusion, I didn’t want to look suspicious.” You whispered, stroking his head while guessing that the Mafia man in front of you is quite young. “Does something hurt you?”

↘ “... Oh, Y/N-chan, what happened?” Finally Ougai came downstairs and you smiled once again.

↘ “There was a little misunderstanding, but it’s okay now.” You answered softly, patting the twenty-year-old’s dark hair one more time. Ryuunosuke found your touch really soothing.

↘ “B-Boss...! Excuse m-me, but...!”

↘ “Hmm. I guess, all of you have already met my lovely wife?” He asked rhetorically, walking up to you, helping you to get up and kissing your forehead. “Be nice to her, otherwise you know what awaits you.”

↘ Akutagawa and Higuchi nodded slowly, swallowing the saliva in their mouths. The boy was really glad that day that Elise had stopped him, because it could end up really... bad.

↘ Needless to say, you gradually got to know more and more people and every member of the Port Mafia liked you; you were especially close to Kouyou, Gin and Yumeno, who became another baby to love for you. And also, despite the first meeting, Akutagawa adored you very very very much. You spoiled him as much as your daughter.

— FRANCIS

↘ Fitzgerald met you in the store when he was at one of the many sales. You watched him with a soft laugh as he selected pots and other cheap things.

↘ Of course he noticed you quickly; how could he not do that? Your traditional, long kimono and breathtaking hairstyle immediately caught his eye, as did your warm expression and amused, shiny eyes. So he replied with a big, manly smile, then started a conversation about how delighted he was with the items here and their prices. You two talked for a long time that day, and in meantime, he invited you for coffee at the nearest coffee shop.

↘ (Of course you had to take him there and teach him to use the menu card because he never has been in the cafe, lmao.)

↘ After eating a sweet, delicious cake and drinking a warm drink, you left the small building and moved on, still talking about your life and plans for the coming days. In the middle of Yokohama city, both of you found Miss Alcott who looking in shock at her leader who was so kind and affectionate turning towards a woman he had barely known.

↘ Louisa, as a great mind, immediately stated that you are a really good human, full of warmth, empathy and respect for other people. All of this was even more true when you offered two newly met people to use your own home to devise a plan for their actions to regain their good name, social status and money. Francis was more than grateful and Louisa genuinely happy that she didn’t have to rent something ugly and dingy.

↘ They stayed with you for more than a few days, and you, as a good housewife, continued to delight them with your tasty meals, desserts and scented tea.

↘ The natural course of things was that the man fell in love with you. However, before confessing his love to you, he first wanted to earn to ensure you a decent life; as his future, wonderful wife.

↘ That’s why he first returned as ‘The Great Fitzgerald’ and then as the man who took your heart and promised to treat you like a Queen.

↘ Of course you agreed; not for money or gifts, but only for him and his honest heart, because the whole situation has brought you closer to each other like nothing else. You supported him very much in his return and you were really proud and glad when Francis came to you one day in a fancy suit, took you in his arms and sincerely thanked you for the last weeks of support.

↘ Shortly after that, you became a couple and later, you became his fiancée. The man thought you were just his personal guardian angel and your getting to know each other was simply planned by fate.

↘ Miss Alcott was more than happy to see you two smiling and so beautifully in love.

↘ Now all you have been waiting for is a wedding and the enlargement of your little family.

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quazartranslates · 3 years

Text

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH48

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 48: Star Death Reality Show (XXXI) {cw: misgendering}

"Will Qi Leren be alright?" Dr. Lu, who had already run away, looked at Du Yue behind him in a panic and murmured in a low voice, "I have a bad feeling."

"Qianbei will be fine," Du Yue said confidently.

"No, let's go down and have a look. If he’s in trouble, we can help," Dr. Lu said.

"Okay, let's go." Du Yue was fine with it.

The two people studied the route to find the safest passage. Dr. Lu's sense of direction was bad, and Du Yue wasn’t much better. Two headless flies wandered around the institute and accidentally found intermittent blood on the ground.

The two walked along the blood trail, and finally found the injured Lara in a hidden room. Her injury wasn’t serious, but her spirit was not good. After seeing Du Yue and Dr. Lu, she was silent for a long time, and her voice was hoarse as she asked: "Have you seen Jing Siyu and Jing Sixue?"

The two shook their heads, and Lara sighed: "I'm afraid they’re in danger."

Lara told them what had happened after they ran away. Jing Siyu and Jing Sixue disappeared quickly, but Janet, Alex and Lara were together. They’d had an argument because Francis had been parasitized by an octopus. Janet strongly suspected that Lara was parasitized, and Lara would naturally not admit to such false accusations. During the argument, they met Leviathan, who had been thrown off by Qi Leren once before.

Janet, who was the closest to Leviathan, was the first to be killed. Alex tried to escape, but Leviathan jumped up again. Alex, who was eager to get rid of it, tried to push Lara out, and even stabbed Lara with a dagger. However, Lara had a strong will to survive. She took the dagger regardless of her injury and stabbed Alex’s vitals with a knife. She hid in a room, locked the door, and crawled away from the vents.

After that, Lara tenaciously fled the whole way, and finally came here and met Du Yue and Dr. Lu.

"We also met the monster, and Qi Leren led it away. Here's the thing..." Dr. Lu plainly told the story again, and finally asked, "We’re going to find Qi Leren. Would you like to join us?"

Lara touched the wound on her hand and nodded firmly: "Let's go."

This time, all three people were in a heavy mood. Especially after seeing the incomplete bodies of Jing Siyu and Jing Sixue, Lara cried sadly and asked aloud, "Are we the only ones left? Is Qi still alive?"

Janet and Alex had undoubtedly died by Leviathan's mouth, as well as Jing Siyu and Jing Siyue. Francis, Annie, Mark and Xue Jiahui were all parasitized. He Yi became Leviathan’s host. Only four of them had survived, and among them, Qi Leren’s life and death were still uncertain.

"Of course he’s still alive!" Dr. Lu said firmly. "He must still be alive!"

　　&&&

In the vast underground ice palace.

"Prophet, are you awake?" A blindfolded woman stood up from the chair of carved ice and respectfully saluted him. The ice and snow maids who were responsible for guarding the underground ice palace also bent over in salute.

"Soothsayer? Is it your rotation today?" asked the Prophet.

"It should have been the Iillusionist’s turn, but he had something to do, so we changed it," the Soothsayer replied.

"How is that boy recently?" When it came to the Illusionist, the Prophet's tone was clearly casual.

"Not bad, I heard that he made an interesting new friend, and he played tricks on others all day long." The Soothsayer smiled and asked again, "This time, you slept for a much shorter time than expected. Is something wrong?"

"It's not an accident." The Prophet frowned and looked up at the dome of ice and snow, but his line of sight seemed to pass through the thick layer of ice and look at the vast universe.

The blindfolded Soothsayer could not see his expression at the moment, but she could feel his inner unrest.

"Someone has discovered their original force, and that force is biased towards us," said the Prophet.

The Soothsayer breathed a sigh of relief, smiled, and said, "Isn't this a good thing? Although it’s only the first step, it’s always ahead of the other sentient beings on the starting line. Maybe it will eventually condense a half-field or even a field."

It was only the first step to discover one's original force, and it would take some difficult self-testing to condense a half-field, but this already meant that this person was about to embark on a road different from ordinary players. Any master at the field level started from this first step. Although most people would fall in the long road of experience, everyone who had reached the field level had terrible strength.

The Prophet sighed faintly: "It’s too early to talk about field condensation... Although I’m optimistic about him, I didn’t expect it to be so fast. This may not be a good thing for him. There are still too many problems in his body that have not been solved."

The Soothsayer asked curiously, "Do you know that man? What is his original force?"

The Prophet sensed the new force full of vigor and hope, and gently spoke the answer:

"Rebirth."

　　&&&

In the deep underground glacier wrapped in eternal cold, the temperature was 60 degrees below zero. When human beings were exposed to this environment, it only took a few minutes for the blood in the nose and ears to be unable to maintain circulation because of the cold, and the cells would quickly die.

This underground world without light seemed destined to be forgotten in the cold.

Crushed skull, whole body fracture, ruptured organs, internal and external bleeding... Worse than that, when falling from that height, the speed would return to zero at the moment of contact with the ground, and the body would be deformed instantly under the huge force of the impact. Even the space alien Leviathan, whose vitality was extremely terrible, was seriously injured after falling and fell into a deep sleep.

To say nothing of a human being.

Death was the only outcome.

But suddenly, something moved in the ruinous "tomb" created from broken ice.

And then moved again.

Qi Leren felt as if he was in an icy hell. Every time he breathed, thousands of ice needles punctured his internal organs crazily, which made him feel miserable. He couldn't even think of why he felt so painful and cold, or where he was.

Under this inhuman pain, he only felt that he didn't want to live any longer, but he couldn't even die.

Breathing returned, heartbeat returned, he still couldn't open his eyes, he could only move with all his might. The stones and ice blocks on his arms also moved and collapsed violently, and his sound echoed in the lifeless darkness.

Qi Leren's consciousness gradually returned, and he remembered who he was, but he still didn't realize where he was. He complained crazily in his mind that the air conditioner in his room was too cold, and that he had even accidentally fallen from the bed, and now he couldn't move.

But how could it hurt so much? It was like all his bones were broken.

Qi Leren's confused thinking leaped illogically. He saw many things, and the broken pictures rampaged in front of his eyes, but they just passed away. All he remembered was that he saw a pair of blue eyes.

Blue eyes.

Ning Zhou.

The name suddenly appeared in Qi Leren’s, which was like a spell to unlock the seal on his memories. Countless heavy memories were bearing down, which were more painful than the rose thorn stuck in his heart.

He was going to find Ning Zhou, and he was going to bring him back.

Qi Leren finally recalled his mission, and he began to struggle, struggling to get up from the tomb built from broken ice. Just turning over exhausted his strength, and he had to lie prone on the ground and breathe for a while, only to recover his strength slowly.

He noticed the time. It has been twenty hours since he’d fallen from the ice cliff. It was ten o'clock on the fifth night. The fifth day’s Best of the Day had already been announced, but he didn't know who it was. At the same time, his privacy time has been reset with the new day day, and he had another ten hours.

If you fell from such a high place, the tracking camera should be damaged. If not, the low temperature here should make it unable to work normally. But just to be on the safe side, turn it off.

"Turn off the camera." Qi Leren squeezed his voice out of his dry throat, and coughed wildly as soon as he finished speaking. His mouth was full of the fishy sweetness of blood, which made Qi Leren feel queasy.

Suddenly there was a light sound in the dark, as if a stone had been pushed down.

Qi Leren immediately took out a flashlight from the item bar and shone it in the direction of the sound.

Not far away, there is a mound of rocks and crushed ice, and a tentacle was slowly sticking out from the inside, which was extremely slow and seems to be seriously injured.

That thing wasn't dead yet? Or did it sense the breath of the living again and wake up from hibernation?

Qi Leren struggled from the ground. Although he was mysteriously resurrected, his left hand, which was bitten off by Leviathan, still didn't grow back. If he tried this again, he would only die.

But fortunately, he had a key item that had cooled down.

When the Prophet's Heart was used again, Qi Leren felt subtly different from the last time. The phantom angel falling from the sky came to him and took him away from the terrible world to the carefree Garden of Eden. Under the cover of God's grace, he didn't need to worry, and he didn't feel fear. The world was like sand in his hand, and he could easily knead it into the shape he wanted.

Heavy rocks and ice were pushed away with a flick, exposing Leviathan lying on the ground dying. This horrible monster had a red eye, and this huge eyeball was full of ferocious madness.

There was an invisible giant clock behind him, and the pointer walked quickly. As long as it finished three laps, the power he borrowed would be like the chime of midnight, dissipating all magic.

He had to hurry.

Qi Leren held out his hand and raised his palm in the void. Leviathan floated and began to roar and struggle, but this degree of resistance had no effect before the original force. Moving the palm of his hand slowly, Qi Leren felt that he could easily knead it into pieces, just like what he did to Mark's octopus.

But this was not the only way. Qi Leren felt the mystery of time and carefully explored its secret. A mysterious feeling emerged in his heart. He rubbed his fingers and the sands of time slowly flowed down in his hands.

Leviathan floating in the air as if it had been cast in magic. Its shell was rapidly aging, coated with a layer of rust, and finally it seems to be petrified. Its body was full of cracks, and finally it turned into powder like beach sand, which sprinkled to the ground slowly, leaving a golden treasure chest and a round sphere.

Qi Leren waved his hand, and these two things fell into his hands. The treasure chest was opened, which was an item.

[Lucky Revolver: There are six slots in this gun’s chamber, one of which is loaded with a bullet. Shooting at one's own temple can give one minute of absolute defense within a radius of 500 meters around the locked target, but the absolute defense is invalid for this bullet. Even if you are lucky, God will only give you five minutes. If you are not afraid of death, you can continue for another minute. Locked target: not set.]

Qi Leren immediately decided that this was of no use to him, because he would blow his head off with the first shot, and unless it was matched with S/L, it was a waste.

Disappointed, he looked at the other object, which was an eyeball as big as a bowl. The scarlet pupil seemed familiar. It was called [Leviathan's Eyeball].

What was this thing? There wasn’t even a brief introductory description, which reminded Qi Leren of another prop without a brief introduction, namely, the "Scepter of Hell", which Maria had entrusted him to give to the Prophet.

Time was running out, and the clock representing his time limit only had half a rotation left. The translucent wings behind the Qi Leren lifted him, flying over the deep underground glacier, crossing the collapsed ice tunnel, flying all the way along the coming road, and returning to the iron door at the entrance before time ran out.

"Qi Leren? You’re still alive? That’s great!" "Qianbei! Are you alright? Qianbei! How did you grow wings!" "Qi, are you alright?" The three people wandering around the door with flashlights rushed up in surprise at the sight of Qi Leren.

Prophet's Heart’s time was up, and Qi Leren landed on the ground. After the sacred power retreated, he sat down weakly and walked out of the underground ice cave with the help of the three panicking people.

"It's okay, it's all taken care of. Just in case, we should quickly leave here, seal the exits, and wait for rescue." Although Qi Leren was still in the aftershocks of coming back from the dead, his mind was clear, and he clearly commanded the three people. He was worried about whether there were any octopuses hatching in the research institute, but he was afraid to say it now, for fear that after his mouth moved, his good luck would run out.

Du Yue had great strength, and single handedly carried Qi Leren, who had lost his arm, on his back. He listened to the three people say what had happened after they’d split up, learning that after discovering that the other people had become Leviathan's food, the three people had come to the bottom of the institute to look for Qi Leren. They went in several times, but the temperature inside was horribly low. Unlike Qi Leren who had been blessed by the holy light, they finally had to retreat, worried that Qi Leren was dead.

Qi Leren didn't say that he and Leviathan had fallen off the ice cliff together, only that Leviathan had fallen off, and that he was injured and unconscious for a long time but didn't die. Finally, God blessed him and gave him strength to return to them.

Dr. Lu and Du Yue were very embarrassed, but Lara was very moved. She took Qi Leren's remaining right hand and sincerely said, "When we go back, introduce me to your teachings. I’m willing to be baptized."

Qi Leren, who had no intention of preaching at all, was in a distressing situation. One atheist has destroyed the worldviews of another atheist through acting skills and unscientific miracles—maybe more than one. Should he be sealed as a saint or something?

They left the underground research institute, blocked the exit, left the basement, and returned to the surface. The night was bright and the whole land was covered with white snow and ice. Lara, who was the first to leave the room, pointed to the sky in surprise and shouted: "Look, what is that!"

The three people raised their heads and looked at the approaching black spots.

"Is it... Is the rescue coming?" Dr. Lu was excited.

"Great." Qi Leren also breathed a sigh of relief. The copy was coming to an end, and they could return to the Nightmare World soon.

The spacecraft was getting closer and closer, and before long, they would be able to board the spacecraft safely and leave, but the spacecraft was slow to land. The four people waited anxiously, just like waiting for a late plane.

"It seems like something’s wrong." Lara stood up and looked at more and more spacecrafts that had no intention of landing. "What are they waiting for?"

A thought flashed through Qi Leren's mind: "Are they a civilian spacecrafts?"

"No, these are..." Lara said, her voice stopping abruptly.

A beam more dazzling than sunlight converged on the muzzle of the spacecraft, and the terrible energy was aimed at this planet!

Stunned, the four people watched the devastating attack on the plane beneath their feet, and they couldn't help feeling shocked. They had never thought that, after escaping death from a horrible space alien, they would finally die at the hands of their own people. In order to prevent the octopus from spreading, the army gave up the idea of a rescue landing and blasted the whole planet to pieces at a safe distance, where there was no risk of contact.

At the last second in this copy world, Qi Leren and the others were judged to have completed the task requirement of "surviving until the army arrived", and left the world in the light of the blast.

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Editor’s Notes: Obviously those items can only have positive results, right?

As a bonus for the end of this arc, BMBL wrote a collection of the program audience’s reactions on her Weibo. They’re posted as images so I can’t easily throw them into an mtl, but here’s the link for anyone who wants to take a stab at it: https://weibo.com/1741082525/F4b6D7Upr

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