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svnaaaaaa · 8 months

Text

Paper Rings - Lando Norris Imagine (one shot)

pairing : lando norris x fem reader

summary : based on taylor swift's paper rings.

warning(s) : fluffy, mention of sex

masterlist

author's note : so hi, i now wanting to try writing new things n this being one of them. hope you enjoy it! this is me being excited for this week's grand prix eventhough lando isn't in his best position.

The moon is high

Like your friends were the night that we first met

it was that one of the nights where my friend took me out to a club where only elites are allowed to enter. i don't know how but i am enjoying this. as i stood by the bar, attending to my drinks, i could feel stares on me but i didn't know which directions because the club itself is kinda full so yeah, how could i notice it.

then i felt my hand being grabbed and pulled. i look at it and it was my friend who brought me here, fay. "come y/n, i want you to meet my boyfriend!" fay said excitedly as she pulled me away from the bar and into mindless direction that myself could recollect.

then i felt we stopped and i saw a bunch of guys right in front of me. a bunch of hot guys. "hey baby." one of them spoke up and fay let go of my hand to go and hug the guy. "this is y/n, my friend. y/n, this is carlos." fay introduced as carlos held out his hand. "nice to finally meet you, fay has been nonstop talking about me meeting you." carlos said as he chuckled and me included. "same." i replied shortly. then i felt the same stare again.

i looked at my left and saw a curly haired guy with green eyes.

Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet

as the night goes on, i finally found out the guy's name. it was lando norris, under mclaren, as he used to be a teammate to carlos before carlos moved to ferrari.

lando and i talked for hours and i found him quite charming, yes i enjoyed his company. "so are you coming to the race tomorrow?" lando asked as we sat next to each other, in the corner reserved for the formula 1 drivers.

i nodded my head yes. "i might say hi to you also." i replied to him as i could see his eyes brighten up. his smile, oh his smile is so captivating!

later that night, carlos sent fay and i back to our hotel room as i entered the room, carlos and fay were talking at the front door. me minding my own business, went into the bathroom and take a warm, late night shower to rid off the sweat from the club. not that i want to sleep with ickiness of my skin from going outside.

after i finished showering, fay already on her bed, playing with her phone. "are you sleepy?" fay asked me as i finished dressed up into my shorts and tank top. "yea, aren't you?" i asked while going onto my hotel bed. fay nodded her head slowly. she's terribly sleepy lol. i smiled weakly and turn off the light on my side. "night fay, tomorrow's a big day." i said to her but not hearing any replies. 'must be really sleepy then.' i thought to myself and grabbed my phone from my night stand.

curious about lando himself, i googled his name and there were numerous results from searching his name. 'oh he's british-belgian, didn't notice that on him.' monologues to myself until i bumped into his youtube channel.

let's just say i have 20% knowledge about him from watching his youtube channel videos.

Now I've read all of the books beside your bed

after the race, me and fay separated as i went to the side of the stage where lando did his fan stage alongside with the mclaren's team. 'wow, the crowd really loves him.' i looked at him from the side and smiled warmly. he looked back and saw me, waving shyly as i waved back.

later that day, i followed him back to his hotel room as the sexual tension between us were rising up. as we went out of our clothes, assisting each other, i gotta be honest though, that was my first time being this close to a guy.

yes, i am a virgin. was a virgin.

lando was in shower after we did it. he asked me to shower together but i declined as i want to attend to my sore. being a virgin who never had an intercourse did take a toll on me. i looked at lando's night stand and saw books on his night stand. i took it and look at the book cover.

lando went out of the bathroom and saw me with the book in my hands. i looked up at him and he smiled sweetly at me. "you wanna read the book together with me?"

later that night, we went into bed really late due to wanting to finished the book together but ended up snoozing with me wrapped in lando's arms and me holding the book to my chest.

The wine is cold

Like the shoulder that I gave you in the street

days turn to weeks. weeks turn to months. months turn to years. it has been three years since lando and i first met. we started to lived into an apartment together in monaco because of formula 1. i don't mind about being a fulltime wag if i can be with lando all the time, giving the supports that he needs. aside being a fulltime wag, i am also a part time tutor where i teach english to children here in monaco.

lately, lando and i have been distancing ourselves due to my schedule of being a tutor and him busy training for the next grand prix. we barely spend time together and rarely have time to sit and chat during dinner like we used to. until one day, i felt his side of the bed being cold as to he didn't went into bed last night, the previous night and also the night before.

the tension between us started to get cold like how the water in the shower room felt like and soon all i know was i want to give lando a silent treatment until he burst his bubble first.

Cat and mouse for a month or two or three

me and lando has been off with each other for completely three months and three months since i left monte carlo to come back to london because of my mom fell into sickness.

before left woking, i just sent him a message and never received any replies for couples of days until a week later, i received numerous phone calls from lando. but i never answered to any of them until one day i purposely left my phone at my mom's home and just went to the hospital like my usual routine of taking care of my mom.

it has been like that for three months and i just let it be and thinking that me and lando weren't meant to be because instead of calling, would it hurt him to sacrifice a practice to come and find me here in london? but no, it was all a wishful thinking.

mom started to get a bit better and allowed to go home but still need medical assistance. as i parked my car in front of my mom's house, i saw someone familiar at the front door. "sweetie, isn't that lando?" mom asked me as i glared at his direction. "let's just ignore him mom." i told her and turned off the engine. lando saw my car and he stood up from the front door pavement. i got out of my car and went to mom's side to assist her to go inside the house, ignoring lando as if he isn't there. as we approaching the front door, lando smiled weakly at my mom as i just looked down, not wanting to see him after three months away. "hello mrs l/n, good to see you this well." lando said. i looked for keys in my bag as i heard my mom replied chatting with lando.

got the key and i immediately unlock the front door. "come on in lando." mom asked him to enter the house as i rolled my eyes but not to my mom. lando was the last one to enter the house while my mom take a seat of the sofa of the living room and i went back to the car to grab things from the hospital that i brought to mom when she first admitted to the hospital. "let me help you." i heard lando's voice behind me. as i gruntly say, "no need to, just need to you to go away from me." lando sighed at my reply.

"look, i am sorry for everything. i miss you, i miss us." lando said as i sighed and slammed shut the car door. i looked at him in the eye. he did the same. "i love you y/n. i want to stay with you forever." lando said as he shyly held out his hand to grabbed mine. with me not reacting, he wrapped his hand in mine and i just look at our clasped hands.

"i miss us too lan, but promise me to never do this again."

"cross my heart and hope to die."

Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe

now back at monaco, lando hired a caregiver for my mom and by far, the caregiver has given me an approval to leave mom entrusted into her hands. at first i was a bit hesitate to leave because my mom is the only person i have left but with lando convincing that my mom would be fine with this caregiver, i was ready to go back to monaco.

"y/n!" i heard lily's voice as i turned back and saw lily approaching me with open arms. it was bahrain gp so i get to see other wags to hang out with aside from fay. "lily! i missed you so much!" i said while giving her a hug. "me too, how's your mom by the way?" "she's fine, i'm glad she's getting better day by day." i explained to lily as we saw numerous of fan waving towards us. lily and i waved and smiled to them as we continue on with our conversation.

after the race, lando and i hang out in the resting room while lando taking a rest before move back to our hotel room. he was resting on a sofa in a sitting up position but leaning on me as i just watching him sleep.

he looks so angelic and i can't believe he's mine.

Kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night

(Oh) Kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright

Three times 'cause I've waited my whole life

(One, two, one, two, three, four)

it is finally a day off for lando and we are back in monaco. lando told me that he just want to stay in the apartment quietly, enjoying each other's company. i smiled to the idea but unfortunately, i have a night class at the tutor center so i left home at 4pm and will be home by 10.

"miss l/n, aren't you lando norris' girlfriend?" one of my students, lisa i believe asked me after we finished the class later that night. i looked up to her and smile sweetly while my hands were busying tidy up the mess on my table. "why yes i am." i replied as i could see a bright shining light in her eyes. "could you ask for a sign from oscar? i am a huge fan of him!" lisa exclaimed as she giggled at me, causing me to laughed a bit from her antics. "i'll try but i can't promise you on that though." "it's fine, i won't blame you for it."

park my car at my designated spot at the apartment complex, i could feel my back ache as i stretched up right after i got out from my car. 'what was lando up to, i hope he doesn't sleep all day.' i thought to myself as i got all my stuffs from my car and headed to my home sweet home with my sweet boy.

as i unlock the front door, i saw the house seemed clean. then i entered the house and saw lando leaning at the dining table, looking forward for me to be impressed by him. to be honest, i am impressed but i won't let him know that. "you like it?" lando asked ad he went towards me and hugged me tightly while leaning to kiss the top of my head. i wrapped my arms around him after dropping my stuffs at the front door as i inhaled his scent on his t-shirt. "i love it babe." i mumbled into his chest covered t-shirt. then i looked up at him and he leaned into my lips and peck it. i smiled into the small peck and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him into a long kiss.

"i love you lando norris."

"i love you too future mrs. norris."

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you're the one I want, and

lando and i were walking around the mall, looking for birthday presents for lando's mom, cisca's birthday.

we were walking hand in hand until i felt lando letting go of my hand and i turned back around to see what makes him stop. he stood in front of a jewelry store, a high-end ones, tiffany and co.

i looked up at lando and he was looking at me, grinning on that boyish face of him. before i could protest, he grabbed my hand and pulled me behind his back. "lando, what are you doing?" i asked in whispering, not wanting to cause chaos. lando who didn't reply to my question, just approaching to the display table full of jewelries from rings to bracelets to necklaces. i was mesmerized by the glittering of each accessories, not realizing that lando was staring at me the whole time until i heard him saying, "you like it?" lando asked smiling as the store assistant was looking at me and lando. probably judging on how we dressed to be in this luxury store, with both of us dressed in hoodies and sweatpants.

"lando," i started as i looked at him in his eyes. "i like it but what for?" i asked him as he turned his head and looked at the display of rings, ignoring me. "can i see that one?" lando asked pointing at the specific diamond ring with a three diamond stones design on it. as the assistant gave lando the ring, he held it out to me, asking me to try it on. not wanting to embarrassed him in front of the store assistant, i took the ring and slipped onto my ring finger. it fits perfectly. i admired it, wishing it could be mine but even my salary couldn't afford to buy this.

i pulled it out and gave it back to the store assistant. i looked back at lando and he keep on smiling at my way. "you like it?" lando asked, i shyly nodded my head yes as i grabbed his hand this time and pulled him out of the store. "never do that again please, you almost give me a heart attack!" i said to him as he pulled me into his arms and kissed my forehead. "just doing a little survey, there' nothing harm right?" he's right.

"but still, if you planned on purposing, i would have accept you even if you give me a paper ring." i said then kissed his lips.

"or a ring pop."

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you're the one I want

2022 miami grand prix was the devastating race for both me and lando. it scared me the most because i am not a person who's into violance or action movies or whatever it is related to crashing things up.

and seeing lando being into an accident during race really trigger me up. one of the tires were come off from the car and there were sparks of fire, luckily it didn't ignited a fire. his car were placed at the site of the circuit as yellow flags were waved, i just stood in the waiting room, hoping that he is fine.

"lando norris is out of the race." commentator announced and i was sad.

after that, lando came into the waiting room and saw me in the room. i opened up my arms and allow him come into my arms as he wrapped his arms around my waist. i pat his back and whisper sweet nothings into his ears.

"i am happy that you're okay and you're still the one i want nevertheless."

In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams

Oh, you're the one I want

it was racing time in barcelona. on his 10th lap, one of the strategists called out for me to come to where the control station goes on. "here, lando have something to say to you." he said as he held out his headset for me to take. i was dumbfounded by the statement, why would lando have something to say when he's in the race track at the moment? i don't understand. i took the headset and wear it until i heard lando's voice through the headset.

"hello? y/n? you there yet?" lando asked. "yea lando, what is it? you're in the middle of the race." i told him. i heard him chuckled as the racing still goes on. then i heard him breathe out. "y/n l/n, will you marry me?" lando asked. did he just proposed to me? in the middle of the race? where everyone literally can hear it? seriously?!

the situation felt in silent. "lando," i started.

"yes, i will marry you." i answered as i could cheer from both lando and the team. i suppose i could hear cheering from the crowd as well but maybe because of the race and not the proposal that lando just made. nevertheless, lando norris just proposed to me. isn't that insane?!

as the race finished and lando placed in 10th place. i ran towards him where he readily spread out his arms for me. i jumped into his arms and wrapped my arms around his neck, tightly enough to realize that this isn't a dream, it's a reality.

who would have know that this situation will be framed up to be my favourite grand prix race ever.

xoxo future mrs norris, spain 2022

In the winter, in the icy outdoor pool

When you jumped in first, I went in too

I'm with you even if it makes me blue

after the abu dhabi grand prix, it was winter break. lando and i decided to go back home in england. both lando and i agree to celebrate our engagement right after the last grand prix of the year which was the abu dhabi one.

we went straight to lando's family home in bristol. ever since the first time i went there, bristol itself have a spot in my heart, it was lovely weather especially during winter time. as we arrived the house, we saw both norris couple waiting for us outside as we got out of our car. lando went straight to his parents' arms, hugging them tightly, knowing how have they been longing to meet their beloved, precious son again.

then they invited us inside the house.

"so what theme are you thinking of for the engagement party?" lando's mom asked as we were all relaxing at the lounging room of the house. "definately neon colours!" lando exclaimed as i pat lando's chest, signalling my opposition of the colour choice. "i'm thinking of warm colours, maybe autumn colours." i voiced out and lando's mom agreed to it. lando? he was making that weird face like how when he heard the question between seafood or steak choice.

for the party, we just decided to do at the backyard of the norris' house because it was quite spacious and i believe that it will fit both sides families and friends. both lando and i agreed to just do simple party because this is just an engagement not the wedding yet. it turns out very pretty i must say. less is more, right?

there were guests from lando's families and my families and also friends from formula 1, close friends and also some close by neighbours. the party was great because there were games such as find things from guest checklist, jenga games that have questions on it basically about the upcoming bride and groom, the racing carry partner game and lastly drinking game of course. what's a party without drinking right?

at the end of the party, i'm glad that everyone's enjoying it because i was having jitters the night before that lando had to calm me down and said 'everything's going to be fine' while pulling me on top of him and my head was placed on top of his naked chest, hearing his rhythmic heartbeat.

i felt someone grabbing my hand and pulling me. i looked up and it was lando himself, grinning towards me and then i looked in front and it was an outdoor pool. i tried to pulled off from him but he was gripping strong and it was hard for me to do so, endes up he went in first followed by me. luckily the water wasn't too freezing like in mid december but still, it was shivering cold and i swore my lips almost turning blue. i glared at lando and he gave me that boyish smile that he knew i melted for.

he's going to be the death of me.

Which takes me back

To the color that we painted your brother's wall

after christmas, lando's brother, oliver is getting married. so we were offered to redecorate his room. yippie (read : sarcasm). he told us to paint the room blue, like pastel blue with hint of ocean blue. quite interesting i must say.

as we painted the room, it was getting boring. then i felt something wet on my cheek. i turned to my right and saw lando giggling like a child. i turned towards his way and with paint brush still i hold onto it, i charged to lando and tried to paint him. but of course, the perks of a sportsman, he was quick at running and running away is one of it.

sigh.

Honey, without all the exes, fights, and flaws

We wouldn't be standing here so tall, so

'formula 1 race driver lando norris and long term girlfriend are officially engaged!'

the headlines read today, but it has been a month since we had our engagement party and apparently, someone has been leaking it and i don't want to point my finger at. nevertheless, i am scared for letting people know of my sort of private life. i know and realize that when you are getting yourself involve with someone who is famous, your private lives doesn't even matter to them. that was what i was told before by fay herself.

lately, lando has been weird and quite reserved, especially with his phone. i am a person who never snoop into someone's phone and i don't even care what you are going to do with your phone, cause it's yours and you know what you are doing with your phone so yea.

as lando went into bathroom to take a shower after practice for an upcoming grand prix, his phone lighten up and it was an incoming message. i walked over to his nightstand and took his phone. there was a message from one of his exes. i could feel a knife stabbed from my back by the time i saw the name of the sender. i put back down the phone and walked out of the room. grabbing my car keys from the hook next to the front door, and i immediately went into my car right after i walked out of the front door.

started my car engine and i drove off the apartment complex to somewhere that i didn't know where i want to go at this moment. 'how could he?' was what played in my mind. 'if he cannot move on from his ex, then why me? why he picked me to play of?' i sobbed to the thoughts. then i heard my phone rang. i didn't look who called but i think i knew who it was. i just ignore and keep driving. i want to go somewhere that can bring me peace.

as i arrived at a nearby cliff, i just sat outside of the car and inhaling the smell of salty breeze. it always brings me calm no matter what.

"y/n?" i heard lando's voice. i turned around and there he was, cheating bastard lando norris. i got up from where i sat and quickly rushed to my car. being athlete he is, lando was more faster. he grabbed the car door as i was and i halted my movement. "i can explain. please, let me explain first." lando said to me, not replying anything i heard lando sighed. "listen, i have no valid reason to defend myself but all i know is that i didn't even replying to any of her messages." lando explained and i just scoffed at him. "if you didn't reply to any of it then why were you being so .. on guard with your phone? you weren't like this before." i asked but lando just smile sadly. "well, i was going to surprise you on our wedding day but, here." lando said as he opened up his phone and showed me his screen, there was a sketch of a ring. he was designing my wedding ring!

"i was so sorry for not giving any engagement ring for you despite everything i have but i do have something in mind to make it more special when i give you your wedding ring later on." lando explained and i suddenly get teary eyes. lando didn't give me an engagement ring because i said so. i don't want something to make things official, just him proposing is enough. i didn't know that lando would make something this special and memorable. i hugged him tightly, where he wrapped his arms around my waist. "you're my one and only from the moment i saw you for the first time, why would you think otherwise sweetheart?" lando whispered into my ear and kissed it, making me hugging him even tighter. "maybe i was insecure, i am not pretty as her. i am no model." i replied and i heard him chuckled. "you're y/n, and you're mine. does it validate to you?" i nodded my head yes and later on, we went back home separately because yea. we came here separated.

I want to drive away with you

it was the day of our honeymoon. yes we got married yesterday. the wedding itself was so eventful eventhough we just invited close family and friends only.

right now, we're in positano. let me tell you, everything about amalfi coast are so beautiful! and positano has caught my eye ever since the moment me and lando were discussing about our honeymoon right after we finalized the wedding details with our wedding planner.

lando has entrusted me with his life by renting us a scooter. if you don't know, lando once got himself involved with motorbike before but after an accident, he hasn't been good with motorbike but still interested in moto gp. "are you sure sweetheart?" i asked for confirmation as the man of the rental shop handed me the keys. lando just smiled sweetly at me and nodded his head yes. "i trust you love." that was all lando said and off we gooo!!

we were cruising around the roads, enjoying the view of the sea nearby the coast. i feel lando wrapping his arms around my waist as he placed his head on my shoulder while i leaned my head on his head. "you okay back there lan?" i asked and i felt his head nod yes. "i am happy to be with you." lando replied and i smiled at his response.

he is such a cheeseball!

I want your complications too

for the first time in his formula 1 career, lando finished in p17. not his best record to start the season. i sat in his driver's room right after the race and there entered lando with his head hung low. i stood up and hugged him tightly, tucking his head in the crook of my neck.

"it will be fine lan, i believe in you." i said to him as we swayed left to right and vice versa, comforting him.

I want your dreary Mondays

monday has come by and you know what it means, monday blues. the job at the school was hard enough. with some students who are really sick still attending to school which caused other students were sick as well. as i entered the house by unlocking the door i sighed heavily remembering what an awful day i had. i didn't see lando at the living or in thr kitchen, he must be either sleeping or leaving the house for practices.

i entered our bedroom and yet, still no sight of lando. guess he's at practices then. which is good because i just want to soak myself into our bathtub and use the bathbomb that was gifted by our wedding guests.

as the bathtub was filled with water according to the level that i preferred, i dropped the bathbomb and let it infuse in the water as i undressed myself naked and placed the towel at the towel hanger. i swirl the water in the bathtub with my hand and then i entered the bathtub, sighed with ease because i have been having back aches and having a bath with warm water feels good. i closed my eyes to enjoy the water but then, i heard the front door being open and close, followed by lando's voice calling for me. "in here bubs!" i shouted back, fear that he didn't hear me.

then the bathroom door opened and reveals lando. "hey there you." lando said as he entered the bathroom and kneeled beside me. "hey." i replied back as he leaned to my face and gave a small peck. i smiled at the gesture. i saw that lando's eyes were getting droopy as that being a sign he's getting sleepy. "rough day?" i asked as he was nodding slowly. i chuckled as i went out of the bathtub. "let me get dressed up first yeah?" i questioned him as he nodded his head again and went out of the bathroom.

Wrap your arms around me, baby boy

right after i finished dressing up, i felt lando's arm wrapped around my waist as he pulling me onto our bed. giggled, i felt happy the most when he's being all affectionate and cuddly. lando nuzzled his face into my neck as i felt he was inhaling my scent from my bath, followed by flutter kisses.

"lando norris, i love you."

"i love you too mrs. norris."

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325 notes · View notes

fallingdownhell · 1 year

Note

HI HI I LOVEEEE YOUR WRITING! :D can i pls request headcanons of sumeru guys with a reader who is a writer (has published books) and often writes them cute little things? thank you sm in advance!

Thank you soo much!!<3

And of course! That sounds so cute, omg! I really like that idea!

Characters included: Alhaitham, Tighnari, Cyno, Kaveh, Wanderer

Content: nothing specific, just fluff and cuteness

Word count: 1,4k

Also, a little something of personal stuff. For this week and the next, updates are still a bit short, since I have to study for my final exam coming up next week. I still try to write every now and then, since it helps me relax, but just so you guys know why it's getting a bit less till next week.

Starting with April, and given I pass the exam, I'll be back to writing normally and being able to update more often.

Thank you for your request. Hope you enjoy!

Alhaitham

He has quite the respect for you for being a published and well known author

Even more proud of the fact that he can proudly say to be in a relationship with you and call you "his"

You may have many fans, some of them even worshipping you, yet at the end of the day, you always return to his side

And yet, even though you're an author and have quite a way with words, you sometimes struggle to express your feelings properly

That's why you developed this habit to write down stuff that you can't quite express

Sometimes, you leave the notes for Alhaitham to find, while other times, you hide them for a later time, if you don't feel ready for him to read it

Alhaitham picked up on that habit of yours quite quickly

He would find the notes everywhere. In the pockets of his clothes, between his many documents, sometimes in the lunchbox you would make him from time to time

He started to take a liking to those little notes, feeling excited every day to find new things to read

Actually, he started to mirror this habit, writing his own little notes about you and hiding them for you to find throughout your day

It became sort of a challenge, who could find the most notes between the two of you

Usually, Alhaitham came out as the winner, since he would never stop searching for them, eager to read what you wrote down (he would never admit that though)

really appreciates it and truly hopes that you'll never stop doing this

Tighnari

• Loves, loves, LOVES, that little habit of yours

• Especially if you hide them, so he can find them all over the place throughout his day when he's out and about

• Every time he finds some of your notes, his tail would start to swish slightly, while a soft pink colour decorated his cheeks

• When pointed out by someone else, he denies it ever happening, mentally cursing that he's so obvious with his infatuation towards you

• He makes it a point to find and collect all of them, no matter how many there are

• Almost forces you to tell him how many notes you hid for him, so that he can confirm that he found all of them

• If he did overlook one or a few, he searches for them everywhere until all of them are found by him

• Keeps them in a little box he made himself

• By the end of the day, when he finally returns to your side, he cuddles up to you in bed and answers to every single one of the notes

• You wrote a compliment about him? He gives you one back. You list a reason why you fell in love with him? He reciprocates in the same manner

• Overall very sweet, hopes that you'll never run out of things to write, cause it always brightens up his day

Cyno

• At first, he didn't really know what to make of it

• He knew that you left little notes around your house, to remind you of things you had to take care of

• But when he one day found a note in his pocket, obviously from you since he recognised your handwriting, he was confused

• 'I hope you have a good day at work<3' was written on it

• He read it a few times, before deciding to forget about it for the time being to focus on the tasks he had to take care of

• And yet, Cyno found himself constantly thinking about that note. It somehow made him feel appreciated and loved, simply because you thought of him and wanted to brighten his day

• When he returned to your shared home that evening, he decided to ask you about it

• You, however, thought you did something wrong, that he didn't like it, as he wore an extremely serious expression on his face

• You told him that you would stop if he didn't like it, and Cyno internally paniced at that statement.

He didn't want you to stop. Quite the opposite in fact. He wanted you to keep doing that. He really loved reading that note

After he told you about that and how it made him feel, you could very clearly see that he was embarrassed about this whole situation, so please don't tease him any further. He can only take this much

But, after that evening, he did find more notes from you, and he keeps each and every one in his drawer at his office

Makes it a point to kiss you for every note you wrote for him that day. It's his way to show you that he loves and appreciates the gesture as well as you. Which, you certainly won't complain about

Kaveh

The first time it happened, he honest to God thought that it was a mistake from you

Since Kaveh was living with you, it was a common occurance for him to be locked up in his office whenever he was head over heels into a new project

he often forgot to eat and sleep, basically forgot to take care of himself, so you had to step in

on that particular evening, Kaveh was so engrossed in his work again, that he didn't even really notice you enter his office to bring him his portion of dinner

He vaguely remembers your touch on his head and cheek, and your voice, reminding him to eat at least a little bit, before he was already focused again

A good hour later, he decided to take a break to eat the food that you so generously brought him, when his eyes landed on a little piece of paper right next to his plate

'Please don't overwork yourself too much. I love you' was what it read

At first he was confused

Why would you resort to writing stuff to him, when he was right here in the same house, only a few rooms apart. You could have simply told him that

Then he thinks about it for a second and realizes that he was doing this. Basically ignoring you and himself, just to focus on his work. Sure he was passionate about it, but it meant nothing to him if the prize was you and your wellbeing

He really thought that this was some well thought plan of yours when your only intention was for you to tell him that you love and support him, even when he's so engrossed in his work

From now on, whenever he finds a note from you, he makes sure to give you an extra dose of his attention, so you better not complain about it

Wanderer

The first note he found from you, he didn't know what to do or think of it

It happened when he way out for the day by request of Nahida, since she needed his help with something outside of the city

when he found your note in the pocket of his shorts, and read it, his initial reaction was confusion and then embarrassement. But more so embarrassement because of his cheeks turning red and the feeling in his stomach that betrayed him

He liked it. And he didn't want to admit to it, not even if he was by himself

He felt loved and cared for, and it was so confusing to him, yet it was also everything he ever longed for

when he returned that night, he knew by the expecting look in your eyes that you were waiting for him to say something about it

but he didn't

and so you continued to hide little notes in his clothes for him to find, and every day he would read something else on them

it honestly made the Wanderer feel some kind of way, but he would never admit it out loud

but maybe...

one night, he came back as usual and you were greeting him, nothing out of the ordinary

except for him. He came straight towards you and brought you in for a hug

You were obviously confused by his sudden affection, but would never turn him down

and when he whispered a soft and very low 'thank you', you immediatly knew what this was about

all in all, Wanderer really, deeply appreciates this little gesture of yours, but he still struggles with expressing himself, so please give him some time to figure all of this out

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grazieschillivera · 9 months

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Longing curses 1/5

-His new target -

General Summary: When Tom finds the diary of Salazar Slytherin he finds out that he and Helga Hufflepuff shared a special relationsship. Under this influence Tom becomes keen to find a suitable partner for himself who lets him expercience such feelings like his ancestor did. But it takes more than some charming words to win a Hufflepuff, Tom figures some tricks will do. Chapter Summary: With an little trick Tom gets you to talk to him. You both share a day at a pub and get to know each other before the reality catches up on you again. Word count: 2414 Warning/tags: fluff; obsessiv behaviour, manipulation Authors note: This is a fantasy, I don't support manipulation, exclusion etc. at all + I suck at proof reading

Toms fingers traced around the pages of his book that made his thoughts bend to you for a while now. Who would have thought that Salazar Slytherin had shared a special relationship with Helga Hufflepuff. His dairies only hinted about it but the feelings he had and the strenght he expierenced from it stood cleary in the lines. There was no heir of Helga Hufflepuff, this family tree had found an end but nevertheless Tom longed for someone he could relife his ancestors feeling with. You and Tom were barely familiar with one another, at least officially. His charms always worked on the people, thanks to them he always got what he wanted. He just needed a good starting point. You were often busy or surrended by all your friends, Tom waited for a good moment that never came. It seemed that fate had no wish to bring you both together, once Tom realized that he saw himself forced to take more action.

✧ ⊹ I ✧ ⊹

,,Tom may I have a word with you?'' you asked when you stood infront of him in the dinning hall. His eyes went up from the book he read while having breakfast, his gaze filled with the usual seriousness he had on. ,,Professor Beery allows us to attend this expert talk in Lodon he briefly mentioned last week. I talked to him and he said he would prefer it if I would go with a companion since no one else was interested to go'' you said while observing his facial features, a shadow of a smile crossed his lips. ,,What do you want me to do about that Y/N?'' asked Tom making you use your words more precisely, savouring your nervous being.

,,I figured it would convince Professor Beery if I would go with a person the teachers trusted. So I thought maybe you would like to go to the expert talk with me. Arent you also interested in herbology?'' you asked hopefully. ,,Herbology isn't one of my N.E.W.Ts subjects'' said Tom but it seemed that he hasn't declined your request. ,,But I bet potions is. It could be of advantage, I even sponsor a butterbeer after it, my treat'' you said with your best puppy gaze. ,,How did you figure that out?'' Tom wanted to know bending back on his bench. ,,Its a tough subject and you seem quite persistent'' you said with an unsure smile and you could swear Tom would have returned it if not so many people would look at you. Especially the gazes from his

friends that sat beside him made you a bit uncomfortable. It wasn't regular that his group got approached by different people beside their close friends. ,,As I am by the way'' you said when your gaze went back to Tom. ,,Next time I'm asking I might not offer that butterbeer again'' you added charmingly. ,,Alright. I will pick you up on Saturday'' Tom gave eventually in and held for a moment longer than necesarry the eye contact with you like he searched for any last reactions. ,,Thanks Tom'' you said. The people who had observed your scene got slowly back to their own business, just as Tom depsite his friends comments on you. They varied between mockery and suggestive jokes. With his eyes back on his book he acted to not care about it, but he listened carefully and could hear how some of your friends giggled excitedly and congratulated you on your win. Tom knew he had a reputation about being untouchable and he liked it. It gained to his pride how your friends and the rest of the students reacted to your actions. He liked how you asked him and how you gently tried to convince you. Having the upper hand was a thing Tom would never get trired of. But the thing he liked the most was the fact that you choose him. He was the one that overheared your interest to attend this expert talk, he informed your hebology Professor about it on a exidental meeting in the halls and encouraged him to let his classes know about it for a possible educational excursion. He knew he wouldn't have many people on his remaining way to you, some people became too sick or busy to attend the expert class so you would need some other company for it.

✧ ⊹ II ✧ ⊹

You did'nt follow Toms path, you stood still until you found the courage to use your voice. ,,Tom? I have to admit something'' you said while your hands shyly rubbed your fingers along. ,,I'm not planning on attending the expert talk, in fact I had something different in mind''. Tom rised an eyebrow. ,,There is this little concert in a pub, I really want to see. You can join me of course or go to the expert talk. I just think Professor Blums thesis on the effect of alrauns are a bit überholt, I intend to wiederlegen him in my N.E.W.T.s'' you said and waited nervously for Toms reaction. ,,You know I could tell our teachers right?'' he asked. ,,Of course you could and would as well. But I still decided to ask you since you're one of the less people who could also use a little break fom studying without endagering their grades. Please Tom'' you said. ,,You seem to know what people want to hear'' Tom said. You didn't say something you waited for his next step. Tom enjoyed this moment of the upper hand, you could tell.

,,Before you make your decision. I also have a little secret about you, if you don't tell we are even'' you said. Tom gave you an amused look, you both knew you weren'ts used to blackmail someone. ,,And what secret might that be?'' he asked. ,,You let your friends walk outside of the castle at curfew''. Toms shoulders stoped their tension, he was reliefed about your words. He figured that at some point one of the others Prefects might see him do that, he was already prepared for that. ,,That's a rather poor try. But I appreciate the honesty. Lets see if you know how to charm me once more. Tell me the right words to this then. Would you let this afternoon be a date?'' he asked.

,,Oh I don't know Tom. That is really sweet but…'' ,,But what?'' ,,You Slytherins can be so unromantic sometimes. You basicly blackmail me for this date'' you said. ,,So you consider your secret as less valid'' he said with a smirk. ,,No… and yes'' you said eventually. ,,So you're planing on refuting Professor Blums dissertations? Thats interesting.'' Tom started when you two started to walk through the busy streets of london.

✧ ⊹ III ✧ ⊹

,,So you tried to trick me. Should I be impressed or insulted? Thats not a typical action for a hufflepuff'' Tom said and held the door of the pub open for you. You apologised, explaining that you weren't sure how to tell him your true inentions. Lying was something you only did when you become nervous. Tom wasn't insulted by it, in fact he found it amusing and made you promise to only tell him the truth from now on. ,,Pity about my secret about you. Thought I had something that would give me a better picture on who you are. Slytherins are always a bit harder to read'' you said. ,,You seem quite keen to understand people'' Tom said when he payed for the butterbeer despite your offer to keep your earlier promise. ,,So do you. I'm just curious abou what you do with this information'' you added while warming your fingertips on the hot glas. ,,Currently I'm puzzeling a new picture of you with it. Care to help me with that?'' he said in a teasing manner but didn't reveal more about himself. ,,If that is really supossed to be a date you have to tell me more about yourself Tom.Thats not an interview for me to become your girlfriend'' you said with a smile, when he wouldn't stop askin things about you. ,,That is the condition for love. It always needs some commitment from both sides. I will answer you next question if you answer some of mine first'' you said with a reassuring smile.

Tom learned that this was a usual thing for love- this dance about giving and earning. At first he answered the eays questions such as his favourite subjects, after a while he realized that he became a bit tense, when you asked for his family or his fears. The answers became shortes and his tone grew bitter, so you stoped your curiosity from taking over. What had felt like an unusuall good start turned now into a tense situation in which you were too insecure to say something. You had felt so seen and understood but now you feared that some things might be too good to be true. ,,Why would you want to know what I'm afraid of?'' asked Tom eventually. The skin around his eyes were stern and they wouldn't break eyecontact – he looked at you, like you were a stranger for him again. ,,Surely not to hurt you. I thought we wanted to get to know each other. Fears are a special kind of secrets two can share I figured'' you said shyly, picturing yourself how you might how to walk alone back to the school. Tom broke his stare from you and looked down at the table.

,,Let me give you true secret about me then.I don't care about the expert talk either. The fact that I would spend the afternoon with you was the far better persuasion you offered me'' he said, his eyes wouldn't look up to you. If Tom hadn't intimidated you ever so slightly with his defensive behaviour his words would have touched you heart in a warmer way. But now there was this gap between you and his words couldn't reach your heart, at the very least they could scratch at it. But you could feel how it longed for more, so you accepted his kind words, hoping over time it would fullfill your heart. You gave him a bittersweet smile then the show started. You both enjoyed the music an you told Tom to wait for a certain part. In a low voice you explained how hard it was for the singer to reach a certani note and keep it for so long. Shyly you revealed that you oberserved the singers always at that specific moment to see when the wave of victory washed over them when they managed to sing this tricky song. Tom understood that you liked hard work and the fruits of victory, just as much as he did. You liked this rewarding feeling once you accomplished your goal. He had felt this gap between you two as well but now he felt so drawn to you. On the blossoming trees and landscape laid a dark blue shadow when you walked back to the school due to the uprising night. When the last houses had passed you, Toms fingers had softly traced around yours. Slowly you accepted his offering and walked together. Tom couldn't hold back and praise your spirit, remarking how much to lived up to the values of your house.

,,I'm not Helga Hufflepuffs heir but being like her must be a good thing. She was got with healing and breaking charms, that is what I want to do. I will work my way up to this'' you said. The more you talked the more Tom saw how well you fitted into his demands for a partner. ,,So you like breaking things. That is something I didnt expect'' he said with a teasing smile. ,,Or healing, I guess that depends on the point of view. My oncle died some years ago because no one knew a cure for his curse. I will be better some day, maybe not to defeat death but to keep him away for a bit longer'' you said like an affirmation and both of you share a glare. Those words made Toms heart race, yes he was about to keep you. Even though you couldn't read Toms mind, the way Tom softly pressed your hand showed you, that you two could get along. With quick reflexes you steped to the side when a drunk person walked past you without watching his step. Due to the icy streets you almost sliped but Toms hands kept you save. You execused yourself shyly. Tom turned his gaze angrily to the person but stoped himself when you noticed how tensed you became again. You were so close, he couldn't lose this.

,,You know, the first step to keep death away from yourself would be to defend yourself properly'' Tom said and offered you to join a secret duelling club he and some other students had founded some time ago, still holding your hand to his chest. Happily you accpeted.

✧ ⊹ IV✧ ⊹

Tom could see over the next weeks how you started to become more confident and it made him proud to know that he was the one who enabled it. To have someone strong at his side, someone with the same amount of ambition and kind of dreams was important to him and he wanted all of your goals to be fullfilled.

,,You seem to study your opponents quite good'' said Tom. After you had finished a little duel with someone else he approached you, he could feel how his heart beated stronger against his chest whenever you were near him. Almost as if he was angry, but with a sweet lightness in it, that only you could offer. ,,That is how you learn their weakness, seems like a strategy you do as well'' you say with a smile. ,,Everyone who aims to be a good duelist does this'', said Tom. ,,What do you say- should we try it? Maybe I will learn some new things about you'' you said hinting at slighlty at the fear- topic. ,,You can just ask me, there is no need to fight me. I can be quite generous to the right persons'' Tom said his warm smile turned into a teasing one while he caged you further into a corner of the room, almost hiding you from the remaining people of the club. You could get lost in those eyes and in the way he talked with you. It was like he wanted to best for you yet still he would deny you what you asked for. It was as if he forced you to become stronger and you started to fall in love with this game. But then a loud argument put you back to reality. Abraxas Malfoy and another Slytherin discussed on a new member of the club. You walked past Tom and listened to the group before asking why they hesitated to invite him. Malfoy pointed out that the club had no intentions to welcome mudbloods, some agreed with him and some didn't.

You joined the small group that didn't care about some madeup ideals. The discussion reached its peak when you and Malfoy threw so heated arguments at one another. At one point when you couldn't stand this amount of hatefullness you looked at Tom but he didn't care to help so you just walked away. On through the halls you realised that Tom had followed you outside. ,,I was so stupid. I should have know that you're just as ignorant as your friends.We can't be friends Tom, partner none the less '' you said. Both of you started to discuss what just had happened. Toms jaw clenched whenever you seemed to say something that truly bothered him. ,,Enough. You follow this stupid ideal to treat everyone equally but you can't do this and you shouldn't.'' Tom said eventually making you stop talking, you tried once again to explain that it was indeed possible but without success. You were near the tears and needed a break, so did Tom. You could see how frustrated he was. You could truly see him, he wasn't as perfect as you had thought. So you left him.

Tom was alone. You just had decided to be ignorant, to not question your believes. And still Tom made his decision, it was too late to look for someone new for him. It was you he wanted. Only you could make him feel so many things at once. Everyone else who would dare to speak to him in such a way, would be on his list of people he would get ride of once the school was over. But someting inside him stoped himself from feeling in such a way about you. He had different plans for you. He wanted to look deep enough in your soul where he would find your shared values that made your first bondings and would twist them until they were bended to his liking- only to show you then that you and him were more alike than you had thought. He just needed to be careful, because he knew you were capable of the same.

#tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle #tom riddle x you

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random-introverted-blog · 2 months

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His Star - His Queen [Chapter 9 - Think Twice]

Impero tibi

Summary: You're scheming away. But so is the Ascendant. Are you sure you can get out of the palace before his plans come to fruition? Can you outscheme a godking? What will you do when you're free? Can you leave things as they are? How ambitious are you?

Link to the Tumblr Chapter Index

Warnings/Advisories: Sneaky sneak, eavesdropping, creepy dialogue, creepy vampire godking man. Graphic depictions of violence, blood, abuse of power by persons of authority, police(?) brutality, manipulative behavior

A/N: Can I just say that I love each and every reader? I love your comments, I love your kudos/likes, I love seeing you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. I love your patience and support.

I love you guys/guys/pals. Thanks for being here and thanks for being you.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

If you had to be honest with yourself, there was a slight uneasiness that had begun to creep in. Something about waking up by yourself for the first time in a tenday may have that effect. Or was it having breakfast alone? Maybe it was that Malacai was also nowhere to be found, and a new steward watched over your shadow, tracking your every movement. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise, because this steward was much easier to evade and lose in your quick strides through the palace corridors.

But having to seek out Astarion actively was the final straw that broke your nerves. You'd never let that be known, though. No. Too much was riding on your ability to remain convincingly composed outwardly. All you needed was to ask him about the promise he made to you last night about letting you leave the palace.

You finally discovered him in his grand study, hidden deep amidst towering shelves and cluttered tables of books. Ballar faithfully stood by his side, while Malacai supported a small stack of tomes. Astarion, engrossed in a volume, flipped through its pages with an air of intensity. The atmosphere was thick with the musty scent of aged paper.

Realizing they hadn't noticed you, you quickly sought refuge behind the nearest shelf, straining your ears to catch their conversation. "...and the location merely needs to be of sufficient size," Astarion mumbled, his attention absorbed by the text in front of him. "The necessary energies will be supplied as per our agreement."

With caution, Malacai was the first to respond, his words carefully chosen as he asked, "and you're certain we cannot utilize—"

"Yes." Astarion cuts him off, his voice sharp and clipped, the sound echoing in the dimly lit room. Abruptly, he slams the worn book shut with his one hand, the heavy thud reverberating through the air. A sense of tension lingers, as if the room itself holds its breath. "The sacrament is much less demanding than the ceremony," he explained, his words laced with emphasis. "Performing the ceremony on a vampire is already daunting, but on a mortal? It will require an immense amount of dark magic to ensure its success." A low, rumbling growl that simmered beneath his tone marked his insistence. "And a success, it must be."

Ballar simply cleared his throat. "Theoretically, the success of the sacrament will ensure, if not aid, that the ceremony does not overwhelm—"

Astarion suddenly interrupts again, his fingers grazing the spines of the books as he blindly adds the worn tome in his hand to the ever-growing pile in Malacai's arms. The sound of rustling pages fills the air as he swiftly selects another book from the shelf. "The ceremony can only take place after the wedding and coronation. But the fulfillment of my bargain with the god and goddess, however, is nearly upon us," he asserts. His eyes dart across the shelves, searching for the next tome. "Ballar, fetch the vessel from the vault and bring it, along with the tomes, to my chambers. I will not be disturbed." With a flick of his wrist, he plucks one last book from the shelf, its tattered cover landing with a soft thud atop the towering heap, causing it to sway precariously in Malacai's arms.

Reverently, Ballar bows his back, his body curving gracefully like a bending branch in a perfect display of deference. "As you wish, master. And what of the final specimens we've procured for the ceremony? Would you still like to examine them yourself?" He murmurs, his voice filled with respect. He dares not lift his eyes, his gaze fixated on the ground.

"Of course, you old twit." Astarion scoffs, his voice barely audible as he mutters beneath his breath. His words, laced with frustration, echo softly against the towering shelves and high ceilings of the study. "The contract drafted up for the ceremony is quite clear in its specifications, and I will not settle for anything less than perfection when the time finally comes. It requires three and a half, and while I have two, I still need the others and the final few of the three-thousand five hundred."

As you observe the Ascendant's gaze shifting towards the shelf behind which you're hiding, a surge of urgency propels you to action. Focusing on moving swiftly and soundlessly, you take cautious steps, your shoes barely making a whisper against the floor. Only when you finally reach safety, do you allow yourself a moment to pause and reflect, the echoes of what you just overheard lingering in your mind.

A sacrament and a ceremony, as they called it. Far as you could understand, and it was hard to discern their purpose. Dark magic is an essential component for both, requiring a significant amount. And The Sacrament is fast approaching, whereas the Ceremony is still some time away.

For now, you can let the ceremony slip from your mind and postpone your discussion with the Ascendant about leaving the palace a bit longer. Whatever this sacrament is about, it fills you with a sinking, ominous feeling, like an anchor pulling you down into murky waters. Something is not quite right.

Perhaps this mysterious "vessel" can shed some light on the situation. They said it was in the vault, right? Can you creep down there before Ballar retrieves it? "Lady Ancunín!" the servant called out, her voice echoing through the grand hall.

Your body tenses, ready to sprint away, until the sound of the voice brings relief and familiarity. "Elowen!" You sigh in relief, a smile spreading across your face as you turn to face her. "I thought you were Crimlilly," you mutter under your breath, eyes scanning the room for any sign of her.

"Criella." The tiefling murmurs the correction, her voice carrying a soft undertone. Her eyes sparkle with amusement as she catches the faint flicker of distaste you struggle to conceal for the other tiefling.

As she closes the distance, you nonchalantly shrug your shoulders. "She's another one of Astarion's ever loyal steward spawn to watch my every move. What can I say?" Muttering quietly, a hint of annoyance in your voice.

As if summoned, you hear a voice down the hall, causing Elowen's attention to snap over her shoulder abruptly. "Lady Ancunín, please! Enough of this!" the steward makes her urgent plea of the steward, laden with desperation. In that fleeting moment, a twinge of remorse washes over you. You almost feel bad.

Almost.

In a rush, you swiftly motion over your shoulder, prompting Elowen to follow, and you both dart away in the opposite direction from Crimsy's reach. "Come on, there's something I need to see," you whisper urgently. Your footsteps reverberate through the labyrinthine palace halls as you navigate through the maze-like corridors, making quick decisions at every turn.

Elowen effortlessly matches your stride, her steps light and sure. The scent of polished wood and fresh flowers permeates the air as you traverse the palace, though you've gotten so used to it by now that it almost slips your notice entirely. Her familiarity with the layout is evident in the way she confidently navigates the twists and turns. A result of her training under Malacai. And for a tenday, you were confined to one wing while she had the freedom to explore. It was during this time that she developed a mental map of the place, surpassing your own.

As you walk, the silence is broken only by the faint murmur of distant voices and the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath your feet. With few servants in sight, Elowen leans in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "What's this about? Did you find Ancunín to ask his permission to leave?" Her words hang in the air, a mix of curiosity and concern.

"I did find him, but..." you say, barely audible above the soft shuffle of your shared footsteps. Frustration laces your words, evident in the way your eyebrows furrow. "Look, I overheard snippets of conversation, snippets that left me restless. I need to see for myself." A sense of impatience tinged with curiosity emanates from your words. Your eyes dart around, searching for a hint to the location of where to turn next. "Do you have any idea where the vault is?"

Upon hearing the question, Elowen grasps your arm, pulling you away from your admittedly aimless wandering and steers you towards the right direction. "We passed it once with Malacai," she mutters. "It's usually concealed by powerful magic. Why, what did you hear?" Now, she takes charge, leading the way with certainty.

"Something they called a sacrament."

"They?"

"Malacai, Ballar and Astarion." You both pause your conversation as you pass two servants dusting a suit of armor. As you exchange a pleasant smile, they acknowledge you with a respectful "mi'lady," their voice filled with deference.

What a surprise, you still hold a deep, unyielding hatred towards it.

Elowen guides you into a secluded corner, far removed from the opulent glow of the chandeliers that have adorned your path thus far. Here, a narrow spiral staircase beckons, descending into an unexplored part of the palace. The air grows colder, sending shivers down your spine, and a sense of unwelcoming fills the darkness. The sound of your footsteps echoes against the crates that lay scattered about, their contents unknown, atop cracked cobblestone floors. Finally, when you both are certain of your solitude, Elowen turns to you and asks, "What lies within the vault, then?"

Navigating the cluttered corridors is considerably easy despite the dress you find yourself trapped in. Those tailors and whatnot can't come fast enough... for once. Despite distractions, you remain fully engaged in the task. "Astarion asked Ballar to bring him something he called the vessel. I'm hoping if I find it, it might help explain at least some of what this sacrament is."

"Allow me to be of assistance then!" A familiar voice echoed through the air, bouncing off the walls and filling the space around you.

In front of you, a figure materializes in a radiant blue light, casting an ethereal glow. His skin glistens with a metallic silver sheen, and his eyes emit a captivating blue luminescence. Struggling to place him, you barely recognize the familiar smile. "Gale?" you cautiously inquire, your gaze filled with apprehension.

"Dekarios, the god of ambition," his voice resonates with a hint of superiority, filling the space. "To address me by my mortal name requires a degree of familiarity with one another we have yet to attain." Well, he certainly overcomplicates his sentences like the Gale you know. "Right this way then." With a grand gesture, he beckons you to follow, his hand cutting through the air. You blink once or twice as Dekarios defies gravity, his body effortlessly levitating above the ground. His legs, rendered obsolete, remain motionless as he glides across the floor with an air of nonchalance, his robes billowing behind him. Can't he just use his damn legs?

"To where?" You ask, your eyes warily studying the strange 'god'. Elowen stands beside you, her posture mirroring your unease. With hesitant steps, the two of you cautiously trail behind him, the sound of your footsteps echoing against the cold stone walls.

"You wish to see The Heart, do you not?" Replies Dekarios with a playful tone.

Now that just changes the question from 'what is the vessel' to 'what is the heart'.

The sound of footsteps reverberates through the frigid corridors, echoing ominously. Ballar and Malacai's voices can be heard in the distance, faint but unmistakable. Elowen's eyes meet yours, reflecting her fear and determination as she tries her damndest not to panic. You can almost taste the metallic tang of anxiety lingering in the air. The flickering torchlight casts eerie shadows on the walls, heightening the tension. Time is of the essence; reaching the vault seems impossible, knowing that those two are also making their way there as well. "Stall them, no matter what it takes."

When she hears your order, her eyes widen, and she instinctively looks down the corridor. "You can't be serious?" she said, her tone incredulous at what you're asking of her.

"Honestly, I wish I was," you whisper, your voice barely touching the damp walls, mingling with the faint sound of distant footsteps echoing through the corridors like the ticking of an old clock. "But if they catch me snooping around down here..." You trail off, leaving the unanswered question to linger in the shadows.

Elowen, with her keen perception, effortlessly catches on with every word you say. Parts of the palace remained off-limits to you, albeit not much of it anymore. The guest quarters, the great hall, dungeons, throne room, unless the Ascendant is with you... and, of course, the service corridors that sprawl underneath the palace. Where you happen to be standing. "Gods, fine, just be sure you find answers." She insists, her voice tinged with a mix of determination and anxiety. Muttering nervous curses under her breath, she vanishes around the corner, retracing your steps back in the direction you came from.

Not-Gale's voice broke the silence, a reminder of his presence. "Shall we continue?" He asked, redirecting your attention to him before he continues to hover away.

Casting a single backward glance, you press on with your self-imposed mission. But you can't resist stealing a glimpse of Gale—Dekarios, you correct yourself. You had assumed only last night that he had passed away in this world, with his human lifespan. What a way to be proven wrong. "Tell me," you ask, curiosity tingling in your voice, "how much do you know about me?"

"Oh, a great deal," he says, his voice carrying a hint of intrigue. The flickering torches cast dancing shadows on the cold stone walls. "Where you're from, how Astarion found you, your plans to escape..." His words hang in the air, sending a shiver down your spine, spoken so casually like his accusation at the end of his sentence wouldn't make your hair stand on end.

But then a soft chuckle escapes his lips, breaking the tension. "You need not fret, Tav," he reassures, his voice dripping with amusement. "I am rather curious where your ambitions will lead," he admits, his tone almost conspiratorial. The sound of distant footsteps echoes in the distance, creating a sense of urgency. How long could Elowen really delay them? Could she give you enough time? "So much so, in fact, that I am willing to offer you this assistance freely," he offers generously, folding his arms behind his back. "Now, come along. The Heart isn't much farther," he urges, his voice fading slightly as he rounds a corner to your right.

As you continue to trail behind his shadow, you can't help but let your curiosity unleash a torrent of questions. "What do you mean you 'want to see where my ambitions lead'? It's whatever gets me out of here."

"Yes, and then what?" Not-Gale asks, his voice filled with a hint of intrigue. You furrow your eyebrows, ready to ask him to elaborate before he does so anyway. "That is what fascinates me," he continued, his voice low and mesmerizing. Not-Gale's eyes gleamed with a mischievous glint as he spoke and glanced over his shoulder at you. His finger wagging in the air, as if tracing invisible threads. "Astarion's reach stretches far and wide, like an endless expanse of starlit sky. But can you escape beyond it before he snatches you back?" The question hung in the air, unanswered. The distant sound of footsteps echoed from the stone corridors behind you, a reminder of the ever-present danger creeping closer to you.

"Can you be certain of where you choose to hide?" The space seemed to grow colder, as if a gust of wind had swept through, carrying a chilling uncertainty with it. "And what of the resistance? Will you join their valiant efforts to bring an end to his tyrannical reign as godking?" His voice grew firmer, resolute. The weight of responsibility settled upon your shoulders, a heavy burden that threatened to crush your spirit. The taste of anxiety lingered on your tongue, mixed with the bitter tang of betrayal.

How could you solve another world's problems when the ones in your own threaten you still? The Absolute, the tadpoles, your friends' dilemmas and the Bhaal temple. "Your Astarion is desperate to retrieve you, to bring you back to your world. But can either of you be sure that my Astarion, the Ascendant, won't simply take you again?" A shiver ran down your spine, as if a cold hand had grazed the back of your neck. The room felt smaller, suffocating, as the walls seemed to close in around you.

"I am curious indeed as I watch and wait to see what moves you make on this intricate lanceboard. And as I observe, I can't help but consider the calculated moves your husband-to-be is making, the ones he has already made, ensuring that you remain exactly where you are." Not-Gale concluded, his words hanging in the air like a challenge. As your gaze fell to your feet, you couldn't help but wonder what fate had in store, both for you and for the world beyond these walls.

If the Ascendant has his way, he'll be the one deciding for you.

At the end of his long-winded response, his choice of words incites your focused mind and eyes to dig daggers into his back. "You know what he's planning? What the sacrament is?" With a hiss of frustration to your words, not ready to launch into how much he knows about your Astarion.

But he shows not even a shred of interest in your anger. "Indeed. He is keen to prevent a repeat of history, so to speak. You are very... dear to him. In ways I have not witnessed in him before." His words dance on the edge of his lips, as if he is lost in thought, before he regains his focus and directs his attention back to you. "But I have said enough. If you wish to unravel his intentions, you must rely on your own cunning." His words hang in the air, pregnant with possibility. Suddenly, he stops abruptly and pivots towards you. "We have arrived," he declares, extending his hand towards you, beckoning you to take it.

Uncertainty gives you pause as you take in your surroundings with a closer eye. The walls, bare and devoid of any doors, stand naked except for the occasional wooden post that supports the ceiling above. "The vault itself remains hidden nearby," Not-Gale nonchalantly explains, his voice carrying a calmness that only adds to your confusion. "We cannot enter through the door without the favor of Godking Astarion. And if we were to bypass his security using my divine power, he would be alerted to our intrusion. However, by reducing the distance of our teleportation, we can lengthen his response time, giving us ample opportunity to locate the heart for your visual observations."

As you try to make sense of his words, you can't help but feel a sense of unease creeping up your spine. The casualness with which Not-Gale carries themselves adds an extra layer of apprehension to this world.

He's so... lifeless. Mechanical.

How terribly did your alternate self fail your friends? Gale. Astarion... What next? Wyll turned on Karlach? Shadowheart killed Lae'zel...?

Shaking your head clear, you cautiously place your hand in the cool, unnaturally firm grip of Not-Gale. In a sudden burst of blue sparks and a sharp snap of his fingers, the world around you transforms. The air crackles with an electric energy, and the scent of which fills your nostrils. As your vision adjusts, you take in the ethereal blue glow emanating from Not-Gale's piercing eyes, and he holds your gaze until you tear your gaze away to survey wherever in the hells you are.

True to his word, you find yourselves in an expansive space that feels like a colossal treasure trove. Endless rows of shelves and display cases greet you. As far as the eye can see, rows upon rows of shelves and display cases stretch out, filled to the brim with an astonishing assortment of items. Glimmering weapons, gleaming armor, and ancient tomes beckoning your attention and... is that a set of tableware?

Not-Gale gracefully extended his arm, tracing a wide circle in the air with his fingertips, conjuring a swirling current of magic. The faint whisper of mystic energy lingered in the air. He gracefully turned, defying gravity as he floated above the ground, his legs unused. With a gentle drift, he began to move away, a faint whisper of enchantment trailing in his wake. His voice resonated with confidence, "Ah yes, right here then." Gesturing with a purposeful elegance towards a small case resting on a nearby table as he folded his arms behind his back once more. A picture of composed authority.

With a hint of uncertainty, you cautiously shifted your gaze between him and the glass display case before you carefully approach it. In it, you... you're not sure what you're looking at.

Resting on a red velvet cushion, molded to its shape, is a long, white gem. Like a rainbow, the colors gracefully glided along the surface, creating a wavelike motion. And it pulsed. The gem actually rhythmically pulsed... beat... like a heart. "This can't..."

"Indeed, it is." Not-Gale confirmed casually, his voice lifted with a hint of satisfaction. "This one," Not-Gale continued, his gaze fixed on the object in front of him, "is pure and the last known of its kind to be loose in mortal hands." His fingers delicately brushed the glass surface of the case. He paused, a faint smile playing on his lips. "It was not easy to obtain," he admitted, his tone tinged with a touch of pride, "less so when the others began their own investigations into our intentions." Not-Gale's eyes narrowed as he appeared to recall the challenges he had faced.

Not-Gale's brows knitted together, his voice growing colder. "But she," he sneered, "has meddled one too many times in the affairs of her betters." The room grew colder, as if a chill had settled in the atmosphere. "Perhaps if she'd have preferred an alternative, wished for others to come to her aid..." Not-Gale's voice trailed off, filled with a blend of menace and delight. "She would not have targeted my followers."

Amidst his boastful remarks and meandering speech, you momentarily find yourself disoriented, unsure of where to even begin with your questions. But you gather your thoughts, inhale deeply, and raise your gaze to meet his intense stare and he turns his head to lock his eyes with yours ."If this is the vessel. The heart. What's its purpose? What makes it so... disquieting that even the gods refuse to let it linger in mortal hands?"

Smiling gently, Not-Gale tilts his head at you. "When activated, it becomes a vessel, capable of containing the very essence of a deity, a tangible manifestation of their godhood that can be passed on to a lesser being." His gaze shifts momentarily, drawn towards the mesmerizing gem before returning to meet your gaze. "Once she returns to Baldur's Gate with the Shadowcarver, he will waste no time in summoning us to the sacrament. There are few Glyphblades left in existence, only one left of the Sharran variety that I know of. And with the scroll to guide his hand—"

"Watch yourself, wizard."

As you swiftly spun around, eerie shadows retreat from the figure of the pale elf. Each measured step he took towards you both seemed to exude an air of anticipation. "You'll spoil the surprise," he muttered, his voice laced with a dangerous undertone. Each word he spoke seemed to drip with an unsettling sense of dread, making her uneasy.

"Godking Ancunín, are you prepared to commence our discussions?" The silver skinned man questions, paying no mind to his earlier conversation with you or Astarion's simmering anger.

The Ascendant raises his hand, motioning for silence and demanding patience. "Once I have spoken with my betrothed, I will join you in my study." His response is firm, and only then does he shift his attention towards you. "Come here to me," He beckoned with a curl of his finger.

With no other option, you reluctantly comply and cautiously approach. Your eyes lock onto the tall elf, standing proudly, flanked by a dark-haired human - your royal Chamberlain. "Ballar, retrieve the vessel," Astarion commands firmly, his voice carrying a sense of authority. "Malacai, meet us in the Great Hall." He continues, his arm snaking around your waist, pulling you closer. There was something strangely comforting, yet unsettling, about his touch. He's not him. He's not your Astarion...

His eyes emit a soft, eerie red glow and shadows dance and twist around you, just as they have done in the past. The sensation is both familiar and unsettling, as if the very fabric of reality is being manipulated. Like the shadows themselves are mere marionettes, obediently dancing on strings to Astarion's malevolent song and content with the melody. Yet, amidst it all, you can't help but notice the absence of Elowen among the two spawn. It crosses your mind that they may have left her outside. Dekarios had mentioned something about needing Astarion's "favor" to gain entry, after all.

As the shadows recede from around you both, revealing the soft golden light that bathes the throne room, a faint scent of polished wood and fresh flowers wafts through the air. Besides the palace guards stationed at their posts along the walls and by the entrances, the throne room is empty. With a lingering gaze, like a hawk surveying its prey, he studies you intently, leaving you uncertain of what emotions lie behind his inscrutable expression. With deliberate grace, he descends the steps of the dais, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet beneath. Silently instructing you to follow, like an obedient puppy.

"My love, you have been quite unruly, haven't you?" Astarion scolds, his voice carrying a strict but tender tone as you stroll down the elegant, immaculate red carpet that leads to the thrones.

"Evading your steward, hardly touching your meal this morning," he continues, his footsteps hushed by the luxurious carpet as you draw near the exit to the throne room, the guards hastily opening the doors for you. His long, pale fingers ticking off each of your transgressions. One, two.

"Eavesdropping, yes, I knew you were in my library earlier," he adds as you step beyond the threshold and into the bustling halls beyond, his words laced with a mix of annoyance and curiosity. You feel a shiver run down your spine as you pass by a row of towering statues, their cold gazes seeming to follow your every move. Three.

"And now here you are, skulking about through areas of the palace that I explicitly forbid you from entering." He concludes, holding up four of his beautiful digits as he turns his head to you. All the goodwill you've painstakingly cultivated, the trust you've diligently earned, reduced to ruins in the span of a single morning.

You come to a sudden halt and pivot to fully face him. As you open your mouth to speak, your mind races to find the right words to salvage the situation. But before you can utter a single syllable, he abruptly interrupts your thoughts by raising his hand once more, signaling for you to be quiet. "Hush, darling," he interjects, and you can almost taste the frustration in Astarion's strict and firm voice. There is no aggression in his tone, just a hint of disappointment.

"From the moment I claimed you as mine, I knew that teaching you the joys of obedience and submission would be a delicate dance, an arduous and protracted endeavor. Today, while you're out, I want you to reflect on what you will say to explain yourself. And tonight, over dinner, you will answer to me." As he inclines his head towards you, his gaze scrutinizes your every reaction intently, as if studying every nuance.

Combined with the weight of his words, a chilling silence fills the air, leaving you stunned. The question lingers in your mind - is he truly still willing to let you leave? There must be a catch hidden in the depths of his intentions. A surge of tension tightens your muscles, causing your shoulders to ache with the strain.

Suddenly, like a burst of sunlight breaking through dark clouds, understanding floods your mind. "I'm not taking a small army with me into the city." You declare, your voice steady and unwavering. Your eyes narrow, meeting his gaze head-on. Even as you straighten your posture, standing tall despite his towering presence, a flicker of frustration dances across your skin. For all that Bhaal made of you, he couldn't have given you a set of legs a few inches longer?

"But of course," Astarion agreed, his voice smooth and velvety. He raised his hand in a sweeping gesture. The warm light from the enormous chandelier above danced in his playful, scarlet eyes. "Though I must insist you at least take Malacai and Crilla with you." The soft rustle of fabric from his new black and red jacket, to replace the one you ruined, followed his movement - as if emphasizing his point. "I can't have my precious queen wandering about without protection, and Malacai is your personal steward, after all," he added, his hand lingering in the air as if to underscore his statement.

His piercing crimson eyes, like two smoldering embers, soften, their intensity mellowing into a serene gaze. A gentle smile, like the curling petals of a blooming flower, graces his lips as he delicately cradles your cheek. You feel the warmth of his touch, like a soft breeze caressing your skin, and you feel the softness of his thumb, gliding along your skin, reminding you of silk. "You must return by dusk," he murmurs, his voice a melodic whisper that dances in the air. The scent of his breath, a faint hint of mint and musk, tickles your senses. "To prepare for supper," he continues, his words carrying a gentle urgency. "Malacai will ensure you remain on schedule."

A flicker of something dark passes through his once soft eyes, like storm clouds gathering in a moonless night sky. His smile, once warm and inviting, twists into something unsettling, revealing the sharp edges of his fangs, like hidden daggers. It's a warning, a silent command not to test the boundaries of his patience any further than you already have.

"Should you attempt to avoid your stewards as you have today," he warns, his voice dropping to a low growl, "I will personally collect you and bring you home." In that moment, you feel a shiver run down your spine, a blend of fear and curiosity. The atmosphere crackles with tension, a delicate balance between safety and danger.

Taking your silence as acknowledgement, you both resume your leisurely stroll through the grandiose palace, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly against the marble floors. As you turn a corner, your eyes are drawn to the grandeur of the great hall that lies ahead. There, you spot Malacai, his tall figure separating from an intimate embrace with a short, silver-haired half-elf. Her long, braided hair cascades down her back, shimmering in the light.

Your heart skips a beat in anticipation, a rush of excitement coursing through your veins, until their gazes meet yours. "Your Almighty Majesty. Lady Ancunín," she greets with a respectful tone as she addresses you both, her soft voice carrying a hint of reverence. She delicately brushes a stray strand of hair away from her deep green eyes, which radiate warmth and kindness. You notice the roundness of her face and the mismatched shade of her eyes. It dawns on you, a realization that shatters your momentary fantasy - she couldn't possibly be who you thought. If she were somehow still alive, she would be an old woman by now.

"Cirrus. What a surprise." Astarion greets, lifting his arm casually to position it above the waist of his jacket, absentmindedly rubbing his fingers together.

Indeed, what a surprise. You've heard her name before. She's... in charge of summons to the palace or something like that, right? Sending for the tailors, the designers, all of those.

Malacai clears his throat with a hint of awkwardness and clasps his hands together. "Please accept my sincere apologies, your Majesty. I just found out we..." His gaze shifts away, almost sheepishly, "we're expecting."

Wait. A vampire spawn, and a mortal... a dhampir? "That's... wonderful, Malacai. Congratulations. To both of you." You speak with sincerity as a small smile forms on your lips.

"Indeed, such heartfelt congratulations are in order..." Murmurs Astarion faintly, unenthused. He studied the half-elf with a curious, lingering gaze, the slight furrow of the brow, the set of determined shoulders, a hint of resilience sparkling in those half-lidded eyes. Then his attention shifted, sweeping the immediate vicinity with a keen, predatory awareness. "Where's your apprentice, Malacai?"

"Here, your Almighty Majesty!" gasped out the tiefling, her words filled with awe and exhaustion as she suddenly appeared at your side. She doubled over, clutching her chest and struggling to breathe, even though she should couldn't possibly still need to.

"Criella. You're just in time." The dark-haired human greets stoically, as Cirrus and the other steward exchange a silent wave.

The soft brush of a hand on your arm brings your focus back to the Ascendant. "Remember what I said." He reminded, his tone firm. "I will see you at supper."

Elowen. You need to ask after Elowen. She has the sending stone...

But you can't risk asking after her. He'd gotten frustrated recently about how close you are to the cattle. Already, he has limited your encounters with the servants you carefully selected, and you have managed to prevent him from doing the same with Elowen by concealing her true significance to you. Already, he's reduced how often you see the servants you handpicked, and you've kept him from doing the same with Elowen by hiding how important she is to you. And by selling how happy you are with her efforts.

You find it repulsive to even pretend that you're fine with servants, but your options aren't exactly plentiful.

With his hand softly resting on your cheek, Astarion tenderly draws your lips to his, melding them together in a fleeting, delicate kiss. He tastes warm, metallic... sweet... an odd blend teases your mouth from his.

Then he simply lets you go and watches you step back toward Malacai and... you should really get her name right. It's not Crimsy. Definitely not Crimlily.

Casting a quick glance over your shoulder, Astarion catches your eye and responds with a reassuring smile. Silently urging you to continue without uttering a single word.

Beyond the palace doors, a carriage awaits, and the once lively courtyard festival now rests in silence, broken only by the occasional chirping of birds.

It could do with more green, you think. The expanse yearns for a touch of verdure, whispers your mind. A magnificent fountain, its waters dancing merrily into the air, standing proud as the heart of an expansive, emerald field. Surrounding this watery spectacle, a stone-cobbled roundabout provides a path for travelers to weave a circle of admiration as they arrive and depart from Ancunín Palace.

To you, it's too reminiscent of a large, empty street in the city in its current state.

Ignoring the confusion of your stewards when you opt to walk instead. Use your leg to explore the city, unlike a certain alternate version of your friend. Also, you're not sure if being in a carriage would help or harm the efforts of meeting with your Astarion and his new... acquaintances.

Thankfully, your dress is not overly fancy and the two vampire spawns somehow remain inconspicuous. Beyond the odd look from time to time, no one seems to realize who you are as you drift from shop to shop, place to place. Your face hasn't gotten around, it seems.

The sun's descent towards the horizon paints the sky with hues of gold, casting elongated shadows. Time is slipping away, and your patience wears thin. Venturing beyond the palace walls traversing the bustling city streets has exposed you to a plethora of unsettling sights that leave you questioning yourself. Your ambitions. The Ascendant has made effective use of the steel watch, instilling a sense of compliance within the denizens of the city. And not a single member of the Flaming Fist has crossed your path, either.

On one hand, the Godking's rule seems unyielding, following an "if it's not broke" approach. Yet, beneath the surface, there lingers a palpable fear, as if the slightest misstep could shatter the illusion of perfection, prompting desperate measures to mend what is deemed broken.

Ahead of you, you witness a petty thief swiftly severing the purse from a noblewoman's grasp. Sloppy work. The hasty act catches her attention instantly, and she lets out a piercing shriek, echoing through the crowded street. The shrill cry reverberates in your ears as it draws the attention of the nearby guards. They pounce on the hapless culprit like hungry vultures descending upon a decaying carcass. The commotion fills the air with a mix of urgency and suspense, as onlookers gasp and mutter in disbelief.

The thief, desperate to escape, darts into an adjacent alley, with the clamor of their pursuit echoing through the narrow walls.

Considering the crime, the small team of guards that pursued the thief appeared disproportionate, to say the least.

If you're going to break your cover, this is a meaningful approach to take.

Paying no mind to the insistent calls from Malacai and... Criella. That's her name. Right? You quicken your pace to catch up with the guards, their voices fading into the distance.

The guards have already tripped the thief on the ground by the time you get there. With a swift motion, the guards deliver at least one powerful kick, the sound of their boots colliding with the thief's body echoing through the air. A pungent mix of sweat and dirt permeates the scene. "What in the hells is going on here?" you intervene, summoning the authoritative presence you have been trained to possess.

One of the men abruptly turns to face you, his eyes piercing through the air, while the remaining members firmly restrain the thief. "You have the audacity to question the authority of the Howling Wolves?" he snarls, his voice laced with a mixture of arrogance and dominance. The burly figure, his beard wild and untamed, proudly puffs out his chest with a sense of authority, the clinking of his chain-mail echoing off the walls of the dark alleyway. "Then you must not be from around here, little lady. Our commands are enforced by the Godking of Faerun himself."

Regardless of whether or not you were the Ascendant's favorite doll, you'd have gladly faced this bastard head-on and twirled your daggers in his ribcage...

Who says you won't, anyway?

"I saw the crime. It does not compare to the punishment. Clap the bastard in irons, but kicking anyone while they're down is a low I will not tolerate."

"Listen here, you—"

"No," Boom's Criella's voice booms, echoing through the corridor as she finally catches up. The sound reverberates off the cold stone walls, commanding attention. "You listen." Her voice carries an air of authority, demanding respect.

From behind, you feel her presence, a subtle shift in the atmosphere. The weight of her words settles upon you, like a heavy cloak draped over your shoulders. "Before you stands Godking Ancunín's betrothed," her voice resonates, echoing through the stillness. "The queen-to-be." Her declaration hangs in the air, a proclamation that cannot be ignored.

You won't lie. Witnessing the guards' momentarily crestfallen expressions fills you with immense delight. Perhaps being the Ascendant's queen has a perk or two.

"My lady..." the guard's voice quivers, his words falter and are abruptly choked, cut short. With swift and graceful movements, you react, your nimble footwork allowing you to sidestep deftly, out of the way. Avoiding the weight of his collapsing body, the sound of his gasping breaths mixes with the thud as he hits the ground. A pungent metallic scent fills the air as your gaze falls upon the arrow, lodged mercilessly in the back of his neck, the cold steel piercing through his chain mail.

Another arrow slices through the air, its trajectory from above unerring as it buries itself into the unsuspecting face of another guard. The nimble thief springs upwards, their movements quick and precise, as they swiftly wrap their arms around the burly guard's chin. The sound of a sickening crack reverberates through the air as the thief coldly snaps the guard's neck.

"Lady Ancu—!" cries out the tiefling behind you. As you swiftly pivot, your eyes capture the horrific sight of a stake piercing through her chest, blood oozing from the wound. Her once vibrant eyes lose their luster, glossing over with a vacant stare. A solitary tear trickles down her red cheek, glistening in the dim light. A raspy whisper escapes her trembling lips, "L...lady..." barely audible amidst the agony, as crimson liquid spills from her mouth, staining her chin. Gradually, she collapses to her knees, her body crumpling into a lifeless heap on her side,

A petite halfling, concealed behind Criella all along, swiftly pulls out the stake from her limp body. "You made it. Good." she remarks, her gaze fixed downwards as she gently pats the spawns pockets. The faint scent of fresh earth lingers, mingling with the metallic tang of blood. "Morning can provide you with all the necessary details." She says without so much as looking up, voice calm but tinged with weariness.

A hint of curiosity dances in your eyes, accompanied by an arch in your eyebrow. "Morning?"

"That'd be yours truly," the thief says behind you. In one swift and smooth motion, they flipped off their cowl, revealing a breathtaking half-elf with shimmering golden hair and striking blue eyes, standing just as short as you. "Aster says you can be trusted," she continues, her words flowing like a gentle breeze, unaware of how your heart skips in excitement.

Aster? They mean Astarion, right? He said that there was magic preventing others from recognizing him. Gods, you need to see him. Feel him. Remember him. Where is he? "He's proven invaluable to our cause thus far. We must guide you to a secure refuge before your Royal Steward catches wind of our presence. Once there, we can move you to where you'll be safest." Her words pour out in a rush. One of her gloved hands brushes off the dirt from her sleek, obsidian-black armor, paying particular attention to the well-worn shoulder-pads.

The halfling rummages through the spawn's pockets, retrieving something unseen. Her lips remain sealed, but her eyes brim with impatience as they lock onto yours. "But for everyone's sake, we can't risk giving you any hint of our destination," she says firmly as she plunges her hand into her robes, withdrawing a potion of some kind, and thrusts it into your hand.

Reading the label, you absentmindedly brush your thumb against it, leaving a faint smudge of ink. The scent of the potion wafts up, a subtle mix of herbs and spices tickling your nose. The label itself shows wear, with frayed edges from years of use, but the text is still legible. A sleep potion?

Your mind flashes back to yesterday. The slumberthorn vine toxin...

Oh no.

"I can't drink this," you say urgently, "blindfold me, deafen me, do whatever it takes, whatever you want - but you cannot put me to sleep."

While Morning takes a moment to ponder your words, the halfling lets out a groan of frustration. "It tastes as sweet as candy, princess, so just suck it down and swallow. I'm sure you're quite proficient."

"You don't get it, if I'm unconscious—"

"No, you don't get it," growls the halfling, her voice laced with a hint of irritation. Her strong, earthy brown gaze locks onto you, her eyes narrowing as she speaks. "You're in no position to make demands, princess."

As she speaks, her voice carries a subtle, mocking tone. She takes a step closer as she hisses, "Drink it or don't. One option is undeniably easier for you than the other."

Morning tries to intervene, raising her hands in a futile attempt to diffuse the tension and saying, "Spellsong, perhaps we should..." but her words trail off, throwing her hands up when her partner shoots her a scorching glare.

Despite your better judgment, you find yourself rolling your eyes this time at this halflings half-headedness.

"Please, it's not a demand, it's a warning," she pleaded desperately.

The halfling's dark chestnut eyes shimmer, as if capturing the essence of the weave, her delicate hands aglow with its energy. A melodic incantation escapes her lips, "Impero tibi!"

And in an instant, an overwhelming drowsiness drags you down into a deep slumber.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

A/N: The temptation to name this chapter Ambitions was great, but that would have entirely ruined the God Gale reveal.

Chapter 10 is already in the works. I'll keep you updated on how that's going on my blog. Thank you to everyone who patiently waits and reads every update to this story! I am BEYOND excited to post the next chapter. Like, might even make a custom t-shirt to celebrate it, I'm not even joking. I am so hyped.

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valenteal · 4 months

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Ok I finally got it. Natsume had the book, either he created it or it was given to him or he found it, then he gave it to Oda (the third installment of the series that’s so rare because it’s literally the book) then Oda gives up the book when the kids die by telling Dazai about it (or at least giving him enough information to figure it out there by making Dazai the new owner). But Oda had written in the book, created an opportunity for Dazai to have a better life and do good. But he left it at his own death so Dazai would still be making the choice himself. Dazai finds the book among Oda’s belongings and tries to bring Oda back and give him happiness and then BEAST happens. He creates a world in which Oda is happy, uses Akutagawa as the protagonist and creates Atsushi using the Book to be the antagonist/shapeshifter, bases his ability on Natsume’s and lets the story unfold. But because of a singularity caused by his ability interacting with the Book instead of changing his own realities past he creates an alternate reality that only he is aware of. In that alternate reality he cannot die until the story is completed and he passes the Book on to the next Author/Authors. So he passes it to Akutagawa and Atsushi and kills himself knowing there is a reality in which Oda is happy. Back in the main universe Dazai struggles to continue the story/find a successor, because he can’t die unless he doesn’t own the book but he can only alter the future, not the past or present. So he writes a story about 6 organizations vying for the book beginning 2 years in the future, it takes him 2 years to write. He uses Atsushi as the protagonist this time and sets him up to inherit the book with a heroes journey to prepare him and Dazai as his mentor to guide him.

Dazai will die at the end, no doubt about it. The entire story is written by Dazai, which is why he always knows what’s going to happen. He gave the single page to the special operations division to set up the decay of angels arc. He and Fyodor are so similar because Dazai wrote him. Well, he wrote his actions and how it played out, but the DoA existed before he got the book.

I think maybe his suicide attempts, at least serious ones, stopped while he was in the Mafia. He was searching for meaning in life and he caught a glimpse of it in the Mafia. He wasn’t invincible while he was there, he was just not trying to die. But after Oda died his suicidal tendencies came back in full force, but Oda had made him unable to die without writing a story with narrative consistency so he couldn’t just say “then Dazai Osamu died painlessly in his sleep.”

Btw if anyone else came up with the same thing I swear I didn’t steal it. I didn’t look at any theories currently in circulation. Mostly because I’ve been focusing on canon but also because so many people just don’t understand the fundamentals of the story or characters so I knew if I did I would be sifting through endless painful misinterpretations. (Yes I’m a bit of a bitch and a lit snob im not gonna deny it. But I took an advanced accelerated college lit class at 17 so I would say my confidence is warranted)

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #analysis #bsd theories #bsd analysis #bsd book #the book bsd #bsd book theory #bsd odasaku #oda sakunosuke #bsd natsume #i finally made sense of it #im actually pretty confident that this is at least partially accurate #details may be off #i got carried away #but it makes sense

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cienie-isengardu · 4 months

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Cracked Mirror of Black, Cold Soul [Chapter 2]

Author notes: Continuation of this, formely posted just as "MK1 Fanfiction".

I'm writing it as Shang Tsung & Bi-Han's sort of friendship but if anyone like it as Bi-Han/Shang Tsung then that's great too. Also, nothing dark/graphic so far, but maybe in future I will go more into Shang Tsung's experiments, poverty and probably a bit depression. Just saying in advance as I'm aware my idea of "not graphic" may vary from other people's.

No enemy has come that day or another nor the next week. Shang Tsung fell back into his routine - studying, training, experimenting, once in a while getting the needed supplies, and then studying more, training more, creating more devious traps to apparently keep a certain cryomancer amused. The books and scrolls kept disappearing and showing up a few days later, even if he did not see Sub-Zero for weeks.

Sometimes there was a note attached to returned volumes. Usually short messages, about Li Mei’s search for him or General Shao’s impatience or a new bounty on their heads or to avoid a specific place at certain times. He read the notes, mesmerized its contents, then burned the paper to not leave any unnecessary loose ends if he ever was forced to abbadon the fortress in a hurry.

Sometimes the note said trivial things. Like under any circumstances do not eat those mushrooms you moron! - and indeed the mushrooms he found in a nearby field disappeared without a trace from his kitchen. Which was truly a shame, for if those truly were toxic he could at least study them to make a new poison or maybe even magic potion or two. More often than not though the message was clean up the mess! which did not amuse him at all. A bit of blood here and there and a misplaced organ or two and everyone was a critic these days. Like it was his fault the creative process at times got messy. No genius was even truly understood and in such moments he did miss Damashi, her kind hand on his back, the melodic voice encouraging him to transcend the boundaries of already possessed knowledge.

Sub-Zero sounded more like a mother hen than a deadly warrior and Shang Tsung for sure did not need anyone mothering him. He was a grown up man, he survived living in Outworld’s wild, uncaring hinterlands alone for hundredth of years, he did not need anyone’s help nor care. It was a matter of pride but also the bitter taste of betrayal that held him back from trusting anyone ever again.

He left his own notes then.

Stop fussing, I knew the mushrooms were poisonous, even though he had no idea, as he had never heard of poisonous mushrooms before. There were plenty of dangerous places in Outworld yet not many uneatable things to worry about. And sure, the fungus looked funny, with nice red caps and pretty white dots, like snow that embellished blood pool, which was specifically a reason why he picked it up in the first place. But why should he not, if the island was part of the Edenia realm and the mainland not so far away? The climatic zone was correct, the ruins were covered with Edenian letters even if the words made little sense to him. As far as he managed to check, he did not find any unusual plants here, no new animal species. Up to this moment, he had no reason to worry about flora and fauna surrounding him as nothing stood out… well, maybe beside the one white pigeon that so eagerly cooed at the sight of him and as it turned out, the funny mushrooms he found by accident and collected on impulse. The sense of danger did not cross his mind and if not Sub-Zero’s warning, he would eat the mushrooms soon. Maybe the edenian blood would neutralize the toxins that Earthrealmer was so concerned about, or maybe not. Now, he had no means to test it one way or another. Begrudgingly he accepted that Lin Kuei potentially saved, if not his life from food poisoning then at least his dignity, but the man did not need to know that.

The note disappeared the day he wrote it, alongside a few scrolls. A week later the paper showed up in the same spot with additional DID YOU?, and even the carefully calligraphed few edenian letters sneered at him mockingly. The rush of blood burned his cheeks and he did not need the mirror to know how red his face was. Out of anger, pure anger, not embarrassment, he told himself firmly while the note turned into ash in his hand. He wanted to burn much more and he would do so, if not the book on which note was left.

Shang Tsung stared at the thick book with a deeply red cover, pondering whether he should open it and bear the reason why the annoying Earthrealm left it there or just fed the flames of hearth with that blasted thing. It didn't matter what was inside the book, only how to not lose the weird game they played for weeks, with no rules and no clear idea who was actually winning. Losing never sat well with him and yet he couldn’t help himself than take a chance, any chance, to prove how better, smarter he was compared to others. And Sub-Zero clearly was exploiting that weakness, slowly and deliberately with each little note, each little sharp remark and additional subtext hidden in black ink, in elegant shape of letter.

The man mocked him and challenged and Shang Tsung loved that game and cursed it in the same breath. The island was a wonderful sanctuary as much as a lonely, dark place and Sub-Zero, whatever the man knew or not, brought so needed entertainment to keep the sorcerer from going mad. Not that Shang Tsung would ever admit that aloud but fact remained a fact, whether he liked it or not.

The book was definitely not made in Outworld. It was not even a matter of unfamiliar letters but the whole texture of deeply red cover and snowy-white pages inside. Once opened, it smelled of ink but not like the yellowed, hand-written books did. To his own surprise, the smell reminded him of freshness, something new and still unspoiled, so it couldn��t be a second-handed volume either. This pleased him, more than it should. Before Damashi walked into his life, he rarely could afford to buy good quality items; the tailored robes and beautifully illustrated books were always out of his reach. How many times he stared at the richness of colors, how many times inhaled the storm of unique, unknown smells when he passed the small town’s market only to turn away from each stall? When a person needed to choose between food or new shoes for he could afford only one, it was no choice at all. The basic needs always processed anything frivolous, for luxury was nothing more than just a sweet dream to lull the poorest to sleep and torment them by day.

Shang Tsung now had the money and means to spoil himself with the best; the finest food and sweetest wine, the most soft fabrics and tailored robes, the expansive magic ingredients he dreamed of having as a child. So of course fate spit into his face, as now the gold meant nothing. Only the power he held mattered. The same power now threatened by Fire Lord and Empress Mileena and even by his maybe-still-maybe-not allies.

A warmth spread through his cold, bitter soul at the mere thought the book was brand new and brought specially for him. Even if Sub-Zero did so only to scoff at him, to mock, he still went with the finest gift and not some rubbish. The gesture touched him, surprisingly deeply. Not many people these days bothered to spoil him a bit here and there.

Encouraged by the treacherous feeling, he opened the book on the first page and slowly started examining its content. He couldn’t read it though, as Damashi taught him only how to speak Earthrealm’s most common languages - the one similar to Edenian and the so-called English that tasted weird on his tongue whenever he was forced to use it. Damashi promised soon it would be irrelevant knowledge anyway, so he did not bother learning the unfamiliar letters. Like all other promises of hers, this one too turned out to be a false prophecy. With each passing day, the choking realization hurt a bit less. Each passing day also proved how much she witholded and weakened him on purpose, how much he needed to learn all those supposedly meaningless little things anyway.

Looking back, how he admired the mysterious woman, how he desired her praise and smile, was such a laughable memory. What an ally she turned out to be! And yet, Damashi taught him everything he knew about true magic and above all else, the final lesson will forever stay with him: to never trust anyone, especially those kind to him.

But… Sub-Zero wasn’t necessarily nice to him and he took as much as he gave, considering the rate at which books and precious scrolls disappeared all the time. There was no promise of great power, no sweet praise to make Shang Tsung starve for more attention. The man barely interacted with him in person, more interested in knowledge hidden between yellow pages than what Shang Tsung could do for him. A fair deal, a secret for secret, as apparently Sub-Zero liked to collect those, even the most trivial ones and he did bring a lot of important news to the sorcerer in exchange.

It wasn’t a kindness, Shang Tsung hummed to himself, just the fairest deal he ever made.

And who could know where this little deal will take them in future? Honestly has never been his forte while Lin Kuei Grandmaster was as straightforward as a killer could be anyway. And yet so far they balanced well between a little sweet lie here and brutal truth there. No matter how many times he asked, Sub-Zero did not reveal how he found the island nor how he got in and out of there, the same as Shang Tsung never spoke about his experiments done in the laboratory. They just accepted the unspoken agreement as it was, for now at least, and he cherished the weird comfort of having someone around while also not being directly questioned with the endless list of why, when, if.

The book felt heavy in his hand - heavier than it had right to be for with offered knowledge came a pitiful hope.

Maybe Sub-Zero could, if not outright teach, then at least help him to learn Earthrealm letters… if the words found a way to slip through the tight throat and clenched teeth. Asking for help was, in his experience, a sign of weakness he couldn’t afford. Yet he couldn’t afford to stay ignorant either, and the beautiful book held in hands tempted with promises of great knowledge - if he could read it.

Not for the first time he wondered why Sub-Zero wrote all the little notes left for Shang Tsung in the sorcerer’s own language. After the first time seeing the familiar letters of his native dialect in elegant yet unknown handwriting, he figured out that Lin Kuei already checked out his background and gathered all that was out there to learn from; to steal secrets and maybe even blackmail him if needed. Shang Tsung was not concerned about it, as there was not much to collect. A pitiful life of a lone salesman left little to remember about in the minds of common folks. Even if Lin Kuei managed to track down his former clients, those naive, desperate fools from all Outworld hinterlands, all they would learn was the obvious truth: the old-him was a fraud, a cheater, a loser never loved or missed even by his own folks.

Lin Kuei could learn more from his time at Sindel’s court, however Empress Mileena waged war on them. Not that it stopped Sub-Zero and his men from slipping into capitol, in her own palace, but some secrets still were out of their reach, at least for now.

The only question left was if Sub-Zero knew the sorcerer couldn’t read Earthrealm’s letters and indulge Shang Tsung out of pragmatism? Or was that matter of courtesy, some good manners that mattered to Grandmaster enough to bother? The sorcerer did not like the uncertainty but he couldn’t ask, not yet, for asking meant admitting great lacking in his worldly education. Even worse, admitting the Lin Kuei Grandmaster - anyone - was better than him, and it didn’t matter how trivial such superiority was.

Shang Tsung could bear Royal Family and Liu Kang’s Champions mockery and hate without blinking an eye, but he would faster swallow his own tongue than allow his maybe-maybe-not ally to think he was the lesser one in their partnership.

But why Grandmaster didn’t just write the next messages in English or any other Earthrealm’s language to test Shang Tsung and then to mock his illiteracy? Why not push and push, until he couldn’t lie anymore and needed to admit defeat? Why did the man spared him the humiliation when even his own, godly-self had no mercy?

It was the riddle that bothered Shang Tsung the most. Not the uncertainty itself, but faint yet no less warm hope that, despite bitter memories, filled his cold, black soul.

Kindness was a dangerous, treachery tool that could hurt much more than open mockery. He did not want to feel that pain ever again. And yet, like a fool he was, Shang Tsung craved it more than the finest food or wine. To be acknowledged as something more than just a pitiful, poor copy of another, greater sorcerer - to be treated like his own entity worth someone’s time and effort.

He craved it and how could he not, when the book, though definitely of Earthrealm origin, didn’t feel like a cruel joke?

Yes, he could not read it, as the letters were unfamiliar, but there was a mark in each corner and, as he guessed, the skull placed there meant he was not allowed to eat the mushroom present on the page. Yes, he could not learn the secrets hidden between letters, but each page had its own stunning illustration. The pictures were so realistic, like he was looking at mushrooms just found in the forest or an open field. He had no idea what magic it was, but the illustrations were so gorgeous and bright with colors he had never seen in any Outworld book before. It needed to be magic, for those couldn’t be drawn, as the texture of the paper was... slippery under his fingers, but in a nice way.

The book was only about mushrooms, and yet each new page made his blood rush faster through the veins, heart beating strongly. When did he feel so good holding a book last time? He could not remember.

(A lie. He did remember. It was the same excitement he felt when Damashi for the first time showed him an old volume about elements to explain what magic is, how to draw it from the world around. It was also the first time she mentioned cryomancers, that they were real people and not some demons from old, almost forgotten legends. When he asked, intimidated by his own boldness, if he would have a chance to meet any, Damashi laughed, a sparkling laugh full of approval that he fell head over heels in love with. She promised he will, soon, and it was one of few promises she kept.)

Somehow halfway through the book, the red capped, speckled with white dots mushroom proudly showed up on page. Oh, he knew that one pretty well now, even if he had no idea how Earthrealm’s fungus got so far away from its native environment... But that thought faded right away, as the thing that held all his attention now was a small note stuck to the paper under the illustration. The elegant, familiar letter said ARE YOU STILL MAD?

Yes, he wanted to say, to write it back on paper and stick to their usual place for notes. But the treacherous chuckle broke free before he could do any of it. To know how well Sub-Zero knew him despite barely talking to each other should freeze his blood. Yet all he felt was the weird warmness. Cryomancer should not make one feel cozy, not when a mere hour ago the bastard mockingly questioned his knowledge.

Was that… apology?

No, it didn’t feel like that. For apology meant regretting and he still wasn’t sure if the man was capable of feeling guilt. Anger? Yes. Excitement at a challenge? Definitely. Regrets? Even if so, Shang Tsung did not notice that and he was usually good at exploiting such weakness in people around him.

Maybe it was just cryomancer’s way to… well, Shang Tsung had no idea. It made him feel better though. So no, he was not mad anymore even if he probably should be at least annoyed.

He knew though from on, whenever he would see the red-capped mushroom, he would always think about this book, the little note and one cryomancer that made him laugh despite himself.

The little skull in the corner stared at him all-knowing. Thoughtlessly, he touched it with his finger, enjoying the cold, slippery feeling of paper. He liked skulls, always had. Maybe he should figure out how to reshape his magic blasts to resemble the skulls? Wouldn’t that be something unique, just his and only his?

Suddenly, the book was a thousand ways better than it was already. What else could Earthrealm offer him? What secrets and inspiration was there to seek and use for his gain?

He grinned, all sharp teeths and gleam in eye. Maybe, if he played their little game well or bargained enough, Sub-Zero could bring him a similar quality atlas but for Earthrealmers’ anatomy? All he needed was the stunning, colorful illustrations and for sure he could figure out everything else on his own. He always wanted to study their enemy’s anatomy but sadly Liu Kang’s pets ran away and trashed his laboratory along the way.

“Are you again thinking about murdering Liu Kang’s Champions?”

If there was one thing about Sub-Zero that annoyed Shang Tsung more than the man’s cold, rude way of speaking, it was the Lin Kuei habit of sneaking on him. It wasn’t annoying just because Sub-Zero caught him doing things that spoil his carefully cultivated image of a devious and powerful sorcerer - like smiling because of book he can’t even read or returning to fortress all wet and miserable when catched by heavy rain or his not best morning moments when disheveled and still sleepy he wanders through the corridors. No, the worst part was how easily the man walked the shadows, like the darkness was his to command.

There was something terrible off about that, even if he couldn’t point down why.

“Maybe” Shang Tsung answered with a bright smile plastered on his face. No reason in admitting to the man how correctly he read his thoughts. Small victory was still a victory and if he was not the winner, he did not like it at all.

Sub-Zero’s left eyebrow rose up, but the man did not comment nor asked about the book in the sorcerer's hands. So their little correspondence about a deadly mushroom was a closed up matter and not worth dwelling on. For now.

Since he rarely had a chance to see his maybe-yes-maybe-not ally these days, Shang Tsung looked him over from head to toe. The man had no visible new scars, nothing to indicate an injury or that he was in any fight at all - even if the sorcerer knew from others that Sub-Zero’s brothers, those pathetic idealists, looked out for him and hunted Lin Kuei like mad dogs. So far to no avail, what pleased him greatly. Cryomancer was playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse, and his foolish brothers still did not figure out who had an upper hand in that strife.

What however didn’t please Shang Tsung, was the bag on the cryomancer’s back. Full of his books. He knew the man was borrowing his precious volumes from the first day Sub-Zero showed up in his new home, but to see him actually taking out the entire stack at once? That was something new.

The saddest thing about the books collected here was their amount. As much as Shang Tsung hated to admit it, for months he barely managed to look through the shelves in his laboratory and there were more rooms, bigger rooms, from the floor to the ceiling, from one wall to another filled with books and scrolls. He had no idea what Sub-Zero was carrying in his bag this time, and even less what the man appropriated already. There was no point in pretending otherwise, as both knew well there were too many books to keep a track on all of them. A truly bothersome problem that cryomancer exploited without a grain of regret.

Like always, the bastard ignored his outraged face, then adjusted his bag and walked away without even saying a goodbye or fuck you. The nerve of this man knew no bounds.

“If you have time to steal my precious books then you could at least bring me something nice to eat!”, he shouted after the man before Sub-Zero disappeared in the shadows enveloping the cold corridor. Not because it could change anything but to have at least the last word.

Out of the darkness flew something small. He catched it without thinking, all reflex and curiosity. It was an apple, red and fresh, definitely not plucked from a tree on the island. Cold to the touch but not cold enough to frostbite his fingers.

On one side bitten.

He should be mad at Sub-Zero, and yet the laugh filled his lungs. Well, at least the bastard did not ignore him completely.

It was indeed a great progress.

(In the deepest part of the soul, where bitterness lingered like venom, Damashi’s voice mocked him how weak he was, how needy to cling to cold, uncaring Sub-Zero. How stupid to think anyone could bother to deal with him out of sympathy and not to use him like the pitiful tool he was. How despite everything, Shang Tsung learned nothing.

The bitterness choked him whenever he read left by Lin Kuei Grandmaster notes, whenever the man warned him about danger awaiting beyond the island’s boundaries or complained about the mess, even now, when the beautiful, deeply red covered book weighed in his hands. It was hard to ignore Damashi’s voice when it sounded like his own. But a snake should not choke on its own venom, shouldn’t he?)

Author notes#2:

Like the last time, it is mainly my character study of Shang Tsung and I'm on purpose not writing him how I would normally write one from previous timelines. I enjoy to explore how Damashi and her betrayal had a great impact on him. He is the "in progress" version, not yet the savvy, brilliant sorcerer but trying hard to be seen like that. Bi-Han so far is there mainly for the books XD

I also like to imagine there is some connection between Edenian language and one of Chinese dialect, while English and its letters is totally something new for Shang Tsung. Just solely to avoid everyone speak the same language despite living in different realms. Lin Kuei were taught Outworld language(s) so they could do the dirty job better. Hopefully I did not bore you too much.

This part was about the mushroom note. Next one should be about the mess called Shang Tsung's laboratory :)

#mortal kombat #bi han & shang tsung #shang tsung #bi han #sub zero #cienie's fanfics #Cracked Mirror of Black Cold Soul #character study of one messed up sorcerer #bi han so far is there mainly for the books XDDD

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mirjam-writes · 7 months

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My research process for Be Still My Soul

I was asked about my research for Be Still My Soul (GO human au fanfic set in Finnish history. It has also its own blog @be-still-my-soul-fanfic for extra notes and background info), and I was so excited for a reason to babble about my process! Thank you for asking <3

The question was this:

Can I ask what your research process is? How long you’re willing to spend on it and then separating things you’ve discovered while interesting might not be right for the story you’re telling

The quick answer to "how long you're willing to spend on it" is always "way too much", truly ridiculous amounts! But I was also building on a foundation of existing knowledge. I have no degrees on history, but we learned the basics of all this at school. I also loved to listen my grandparents stories of the olden times as a kid; not necessarily about the war, but farming, customs and architecture. My proper interest in the civil war period began in 2018, during the 100th anniversary year. There were a lot of events, articles and news about the war, so I decided to read some of them, including old classics, and visit some museums. When I stumbled upon a reference I didn't understand, I read more, and that was a whole rabbit hole... But! When I started outlining Be Still, I was able to base it on a lot of knowledge I already had, and was able to add the big beats of the love story to the real historical timeline.

Then I started writing. I took a scene or a short period I had outlined and started to ask myself questions. What needs to be shown for the reader to understand the next big beat. What do the characters know, what do they see, what do they think. I always started my research from something related to the outline BUT it definitely got off track and severely out of hand so often! I found new details I could add to the story, and a whole bunch of details I hyperfixated in, researched for days---and used only maybe in one offhand paragraph.

I left so much out, because it was, at heart, a love story and not a history lesson. And some things made no sense to be explained in the story because they were every-day stuff for the characters! So, from the very early on I realised I needed an outlet for all that extra info in order to not clutter the story, and that's how the blog was born.

My biggest tools for research during writing were

online newspaper archives (to figure out what people actually knew and discussed at any current day I was writing about, because nowadays we of course know a lot more about the stuff that happened, than the people knew when it was actually happening. I also used newspapers to search for important information like if Vaseline was already available in 1918 Finland)

national archive's online photo archive (to get visuals of locations, clothes, houses and other things, to be able to describe them better)

Wikipedia (especially for looking for right words; I searched for a spesific thing from Finnish Wikipedia, then opened the English article to see the English word for it, and to figure out if the word is what I'm looking for. And then I went to Discord to ask around on writer's channels if the words I was about to pick were actually general knowledge for English speakers)

census data (I've also done genealogy research for my family, so I still have a subscription to some neat archives. These I used to search for names and professions, and to count amount of servants in big houses, etc)

library (I'm sure our local library thinks I'm doing some important historical research :D I read several books about other people's research, and also fiction. But I have kinda ruined the fiction for myself because I can now spot all the mistakes, and also, in one case, when the author described a scene in vivid detail, I could tell exactly which museum archive photo they had used as a reference!)

Whenever I found something I got curious about, all my other research (and writing!) stopped and I started googling more and more information, which sometimes did end up into the story, but more often did not! But I'm the sort of history geek that likes these rabbit holes, so I didn't mind much.

(Unless it felt like I got no new words into the story for weeks!)

#my writing #about writing #historical research #writing historical

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frankenfossil · 19 days

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13 books

What’s up readers?! How about a little show and tell? Answer these 13 questions, tag 13 lucky readers and if you’re feeling extra bookish add a shelfie! Let’s Go!

Tagged by @quarkscooljacket

This is perfect because I had an extremely slow start to the year in terms of reading and then SUDDENLY in the last few weeks I got my library card un-blocked and then maxed out my reservations and am now reading a bunch of books!!!!!!!

1) The Last book I read:

Question 7 by Richard Flanagan! I extremely liked it! Very contemplative novel/nonfic/memoir mishmash threading through such things as the way scifi writers & physicists prefigured & led to & failed to prevent the bombing of Hiroshima, his father being a POW in Japan who almost certainly would not have survived (and had him!) if the bombs had not been dropped, the history of Tasmania, his own near drowning while kayaking in the Franklin river, and the way history and memory shapes us and is eternally carried forward with us while also being forgotten/rewritten/impossible to pin down for certain. At least, that's my best go of describing this book.

2) A book I recommend:

This is... so open-ended... if you want to identify native trees in Victoria and nearby areas I would recommend Leon Costerman's Native Trees and Shrubs of South-Eastern Australia lmao. I really like The Golem and the Jinni by Helene Wecker, a historical fiction/urban fantasy book about a golem and a jinni living in immigrant communities in New York in the early 1900s, and also the sequel.

3) A book that I couldn’t put down:

Not a book per se but one of the webcomics I got into relatively recently is What happens next https://whathappensnext.webcomic.ws/ which reminds me a bit of Nevada by Imogen Binnie except if all of the characters were youtubers and/or tumblrinas and either involved in a murder or just big into true crime (in universe, fictional). It's very gripping. Of course now that I'm caught up there's the usual wait for updates but such is life.

I also read The Wicked + the Divine last week, since I'd never previously read the final 2 volumes, and that was good. I'm glad to find out I liked the ending. Comics are always a quick read but nevertheless some are more action-packed and fast paced than others lmao, and I just ripped through these in every spare second.

4) A book I’ve read twice (or more):

Naomi Novik is probably my most read author because I've read most of her books twice or more... So far I've read Spinning Silver & His Majesty's Dragon three times each; those are 2 of my absolute favourites. I've read most of the rest of the Temeraire series 2 or 3 times too but few of them grab me quite as much as the first one, & I read the first Scholomance book twice. I feel like I should reread Uprooted because that's the only one of her books I've not liked (though some of the duller Temeraire books get a bit of a leg-up from being in a series with other books I really like lol); since I only remember vague impressions of it now, which might not be accurate, I would like to see if my feelings have changed, or if not, figure out more specifically what I didn't like about it.

5) A book on my TBR:

Praiseworthy by Alexis Wright also happens to be one of the books I borrowed!! It was mentioned on a podcast along with Question 7 and Search History (currently reading, q12) so that is how I found out about these 3 books and was compelled to reserve them. However, currently I am daunted by how fat it is (700+ pages) so it's just sitting on my bedside table and I am... reading the shorter books first lmao.

I will also leave the blurb copypasted from @quarkscooljacket's answer:

Praiseworthy is an epic set in the north of Australia, told with the richness of language and scale of imagery for which Alexis Wright has become renowned. In a small town dominated by a haze cloud, which heralds both an ecological catastrophe and a gathering of the ancestors, a crazed visionary seeks out donkeys as the solution to the global climate crisis and the economic dependency of the Aboriginal people. His wife seeks solace from his madness in following the dance of butterflies and scouring the internet to find out how she can seek repatriation for her Aboriginal/Chinese family to China. One of their sons, called Aboriginal Sovereignty, is determined to commit suicide. The other, Tommyhawk, wishes his brother dead so that he can pursue his dream of becoming white and powerful. This is a novel which pushes allegory and language to its limits, a cry of outrage against oppression and disadvantage, and a fable for the end of days.

6) A book I’ve put down:

The most recent book I decided I did not want to finish is The Female Man by Joanna Russ. It sounded conceptually cool but I was just finding it way too hard to follow or care about. Too many sections where I couldn't figure out which character/s' perspective it was or whatever. I'm sure there's other books I didn't finish before they became overdue and I had to return them but can't remember, I usually want to finish them eventually. Whether I will get around to it is another matter.

7) A book on my wish list:

I don't normally buy books these days, but nevertheless tempted by A Vast, Pointless Gyration of Radioactive Rocks and Gas in Which You Happen to Occur, edited by the Daniels. It looks extremely interesting and also extremely pretty...

8) A favorite book from childhood:

Hmmmm. I guess I did choose my name from The Wind on Fire trilogy by William Nicholson. Definitely up there among my favourite childhood books.

9) A book you would give to a friend:

Another very open ended one...... this depends so much????? what friend... what occasion... idk... there are books I do kind of want to give people but either I haven't decided or it's supposed to be a surprise and they may see this. although recently I have been incepting Lauren with my impeccable borrowing tastes, reading my library books after me is surely the same thing right??

10) A book of poetry or lyrics that you own

Ismene's Survivable Resistance by Claire Gaskin... she is one of my favourite poets, and I rly like the concept of this book, and I saw her do a reading of some of the poems! However I think my favourite poems by her are ones that are not in this book.

11) A nonfiction book you own:

Hmm... Evolution's Rainbow by Joan Roughgarden is an interesting book published in 2004 about the diversity of sexual and gender variation in the world. The first section is about other animals, and especially about the ways human biologists have imposed ideological frameworks in classifying them; the middle section is about human intersex variation and biology; and the third section is about human cultural sex and gender roles throughout history.

12) What are you currently reading:

Search History by Amy Taylor. About the dating life of a classic mildly messy millennial woman. In this case she goes through the facebook profile of the most recent guy she starts dating and then finds out that his ex girlfriend died, and then goes through the accounts and photos of the ex girlfriend and gets a bit obsessed with her, but has to not let on to the new guy that she has done this deep dive. It's okay! Enjoyable, pretty fast to read, some funny bits and observations and whatnot, but not particularly a stand out read. She is not as much of a freak as I expected she would be when I started reading it, which is both a relief and also a disappointment. So far everyone seems to just be normal mildly flawed people doing overall reasonable things imperfectly, and the conflict is just navigating life's complexity (there's a lot about everyday sexism though). Mostly I just keep thinking how glad I am to not be a heterosexual woman or ever had to attempt online dating/app dating, which are both quite boring and excessively smug things to feel, however, I am simply a bit boring and smug. Anyway I'm only halfway through, I'm expecting/hoping there'll be some twists or something. Maybe about the boyfriend...?

update: was talking to some friends about it this arvo and they said not only that it does get crazier, but ALSO that supposedly it's a modern telling of Rebecca, which I have not read but have now reserved lmao

13) What are you planning on reading next?

I have borrowed all of Delicious in Dungeon and am very excited to start them! Also the next books I have to read for my book clubs are Marlo by Jay Carmichael, which I'd better get onto as it is in less than 2 weeks, and Hijab Butch Blues by Lamya H, which was one of the ones I put on the list myself and am very excited to read (I previously started it and got too busy to finish it but was rly enjoying it so keen to get further), but I actually still have over a month for that one since I can't make this month's meeting for that book club.

As for a shelfie... well here is a photo of all the plant reference books in my desk drawer for quick reference while working (though there's really only 4 I use very often, plus the australian standards on the side there):

Tagging (with ZERO pressure or obligation): @thesleepybabesclub @depthchargeforcutie @petricorrosion @andilovethisnovemberlife @dogelectedmayor @aesterea @commander-diomika @auntytim @zinjanthropusboisei @red-thorn

#tag games #books #i didnt tag 13 people but im overthinking it. i just gotta post the dang thing

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synobun · 3 months

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One of them tag games

So I wasn't actually tagged by @cour5t in this, but I was tagged by @rosewinterborn in a very similar game, so I'm stealing the first and pretending it's the second, since the second had a few questions that didn't apply to me x)

Last song: I'm gonna do the last song I've had on repeat for this!

Favorite color: I never know what to say for this. Black? Dark red? Dark purple? Dark green? That whole colour palette is the bomb dot com.

Last movie/show: The last movie I watched that was new was Nimona! It was fantastic, 10/10 lives up to the hype. The last show I finished was Reacher. It was okay.

Next on my watchlist: I've finally started watching Criminal Minds, but I'm already kind of burning out on it midway through season two. And there's still like 300 episodes left. Ridic. I should probably catch up on Foundation and For All Mankind. Next movie is the cartoon version of Mulan!

Last game: Prey! I did a replay of Doom 3 a while ago and mused that the horror story-game genre should be revived, and then on a whim I decided to play Prey without knowing anything about it. And it's the exact kind of game I was talking about. It's pretty good.

Last book: Rebirth of the Sigil by Peri Akman. It was disappointing. :/ Especially since I know what the author is otherwise capable of. I had the same thing happen with John Gwynne recently as well.

Sweet/savory/spicy: Savory, I think? I don't have an instinctive sense of what savory is. Google says it's a meaty taste, and I rely heavily on protein, so I guess that. I have a pretty low tolerance for sweetness despite liking sodas and such. I don't like most desserts or can only eat a tiny amount. Spicy is alright but my digestive system disagrees.

Relationship status: *vague gesturing*

Last thing I searched online: The hours for my pharmacy to see if it was too late to pick up my medication.

Current obsession: I am generally not an obsessive person when it comes to, like, interests and activities. But I am an obsessive person when it comes to thoughts and emotions. Lately I've been struggling a lot with thinking about eternity. It has not been fun. On a lighter note, I have also been thinking more regularly about writing. Perhaps someday that will translate into action!

Greatest flaw: How much time do you have? This is actually something I have difficulty answering, because the line between something forced upon me and something that is actually inherent to me is blurred a lot of the time.

I think I'd say how I behave when I'm spiraling mentally. I close off and disappear from almost everyone in my life. Occasionally I can keep up appearances with one group but not the rest, but by and large I become a ghost. When I am in a conversation during those cycles, it's crazy how badly I'm affected. I don't become cruel or mean toward others, but my speech becomes jilted, I can't make eye contact, and I am just devastatingly hateful against myself.

It's partly why I isolate, so that I don't have to expose others to that behaviour. It happens on a yearly basis though, and it can last for weeks at a time, so it has a pretty negative impact on my relationships. I also have no idea how to navigate being in one of those moods while part of a relationship where daily contact is an expectation. When I was part of a romantic relationship, instead of having one big prolonged dip, I would fade in and out of it. A couple weeks good, a couple days bad. Rinse and repeat. Awful. Terrible. Annoying. There's almost no predicting when it'll happen either.

Fic I’m currently reading: I rarely read fics because I have no patience for wading through wish fulfillment, horny writing, and "He would not fucking say that" fics, so there's only one that I vaguely keep up with. My friend has a Mass Effect fic, which can be found here. It focuses on femShep(/Kaidan) and Tali(/Garrus) and is post-ME3.

-----

I tag anyone who sees this and actually made it to the end, tbh. But for sake of poking, I tag @rosewinterborn with this variant, and also @deadlyessencewhispers, @tananaphone, @stupid-elf, @carrotblr, @atinydroid, @imtryingx, and, uh, uh... I don't know... let's see... @kkshowtunes, @d3viantvanguard, and @awritingcaitlin. I probably just tagged everyone who follows me. Anyway thanks bye

#tag game #in which i talk too much and reveal too much

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davidfarland · 2 months

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David Farland: Finding the Heart of Your Novel

Over the years, I’ve edited hundreds and hundreds of novels. Some were from professors that I worked with as an editor at BYU, others were from promising students or from people who hired me. Some of my students have gone on to become bestselling authors and launch careers with the books that I edited.

But some of the books flopped. Perhaps the most frequent problem that I see with flops is that the author has a great idea for an opening scene and not much else. The author is usually a “pantser.” She got the idea for an opening scene—a love scene between a girl and her werewolf, for example—and so she writes the scene and waits for a muse to show up and tell her what to write next. If she’s really good, the author can manage to string some intriguing scenes together in such a way that it grips the reader’s interest for a few chapters. After the werewolf lover runs away in the night, she tries to hunt him down in his human form, looking for love in all the wrong places.

But as she strings these scenes together, the reader starts to notice that there isn’t a story. There isn’t a sense that one scene motivates the next, that all of this is interconnected somehow.

So maybe while hunting for her werewolf lover, the girl gets a job as a pastry chef and invents the world’s greatest chocolate eclairs with her new almond-rum filling, and then wins a fortune in Vegas and decides to buy one-way passage to the moon, and the reader is left wondering, What in the world was this mess all about.

In fact, sometimes “plotless novels” sell well. In 1926, adventure writer John Masefield had a huge hit with the novel “Odtaa,” an acronym for “One Damned Thing After Another.” No plot, all action. But I’ve found that when an author has a vision for what she wants to accomplish, the story naturally takes on a direction. For example, if she described the story as, “Cindra Maze falls in love after having a magical encounter in the Black Forest of Germany with a werewolf during a full moon, and begins a hunt to find the man of her dreams in all the wrong places,” suddenly the story suggests a form. Cindra will have her magical encounter, hunt for her werewolf lover, and discover something about men and love, and then find her true love unexpectedly.

Now we have a form. We have something that links the narration together, a driving purpose.

In order to define a story for others, you have to state who the protagonist is, where the story is set, what the major conflict is about, and at least hint at how the story unfolds. These elements define the heart of the story.

You don’t want to wander aimlessly. It isn’t uncommon for “pantsers” to have me edit novels that wander a bit before the author finally hits on a promising idea that gives the story form.

In the example above, perhaps Cindra has a falling out with her mother, gives birth to a love child, and makes her fortune before she goes to hunt down her lover—after 300 pages. In that case, I usually have a lot of cutting and rearranging to do, since the heart of the story seems to be separated from the inciting incident by about a mile of veins and arteries.

Search for the heart of your story first. Figure out what longing, what emotional or intellectual need you’re trying to fill. Ask yourself, “What does this story really mean to me?” “What is it that I hope to say?”

When you find the heart of your story, you’ll quickly be able to begin piecing it together. Many professional writers have found that it only takes a few minutes to rough out a plot for a major novel.

For more on David Farland's Writing tips, visit https://mystorydoctor.com/writing-blog/

And you can also click here to get your David Farland Daily Meditations.

#writing tips and tricks #writing help #writing tips #writing advice #author

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ayamari-no-goshi · 1 year

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Don’t Forget to Write (3)

AO3 -> first, previous, next

Fandoms: DC (Batman comics)

Summary: From Dick’s POV. Damian happened to win a contest to illustrate a new book by an up and coming author. Being the good brother he is, Dick decided to check the book.He quickly realized he was reading a very first hand account of one of Jason’s old cases, and deciding to act like a normal person would, he decided to read some of the author’s other works. What he found shook the very foundation of what he thought was true?

Warnings: rated T - mostly for swearing and questionable mental health. Amnesia

Parings: none

Notes: originally uploaded to AO3. Cross-posted to tumblr

They didn’t hear anything directly from Jason over the next week. It wasn’t like Dick was worried or anything. Okay, so he was worried.

Every night, at least one of them would stop by the vantage point across from Jason’s apartment, just to make sure he was okay. Unlike before, he now kept his curtains closed forcing them to turn to thermal vision just to make sure he was still there.

It bothered Dick enough that he might have looked in on his volunteer work a couple times. As Nightwing. From a safe vantage point. He was pretty sure Jason hadn’t seen him. It would be more than a little awkward to explain if he had.

While they waited for Jason to reach out, Babs continued to monitor what she could on her end. They were starting to get hints that some of Black Mask’s men were going to go after Jason all because a fictional retelling of the story of how he got his unique features scratched the man’s paranoia. They were certain he found out from Jason’s so-called liaison. As a result, they needed to alert Jason. So, they were going to do it the only logical way their family handled such a situation, by breaking into his apartment. What could go wrong?

When he and Bruce entered through the window, they didn’t find anyone. Concerned, they began searching the small apartment for any signs of what may or may not have happened. Everything seemed to be in order. Jason’s few possessions were neatly tucked away. There were no signs of scuff marks around the furniture, and there were freshly dirtied dishes in the sink. The containers Alfred lent him sat neatly cleaned on the kitchen counter. Either someone went out of their way to make sure it appeared there was nothing wrong, Jason went willingly, or he was caught outside the apartment. Or everything was just fine, and he happened to take a stroll in the middle of the night, in Crime Alley.

As he continued to check around the apartment, his eyes drifted upwards to a maintenance hatch. He’d forgotten some of the older apartments sometimes had them. It seemed a bit too small for Jay to hide himself in, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any clues inside of it. As he carefully approached it, he wasn’t expecting it to pop open. Nor did he expect someone to launch themselves out of it and attack him.

As much as he hated to admit it, it was only his training that let him catch what turned out to be a tire iron with his escrima stick. After realizing the person wielding it was Jason, he pulled back to see what he would do. His brother, now aware of who he had just attacked, backed away but remained in a defensive stance.

“How’d you even put yourself in there?” Dick honestly asked him as he signaled to Bruce it was okay. He also ignored Babs’ snickers. No doubt she was going to make sure everyone saw that footage.

“Practice.” Jason’s brusque reply caught him off guard.

“Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I live in Gotham where home invasions on the third floor of an apartment building aren’t as uncommon as you’d think.” Jason leaned against the nearest wall and crossed his arms. While he appeared more relaxed, he didn’t let go of his weapon. “I was wondering when you’d finally come from a visit. You haven’t exactly been subtle with your stalking, but I can’t quite figure out what I might have done to get your attention.”

Dick elected to ignore the stare from Bruce and turn his attention to the window so he could scowl at Steph, who was openly laughing at him from the fire escape.

“You’ve caught the interest of Black Mask,” Bruce told him as he tried to keep his voice neutral, but there had been a slight slip. Being forced to treat his lost son as a stranger was affecting him more than Dick originally thought it was.

“Yeah, looks like he wants to have a chat with you. I guess the way you portray him in your new book isn’t all that flattering,” Dick added on the off-chance Jason’s ability to translate Bruce speak was off-line with his other memories.

Jay moved the tire iron so it was pinned between his arm and side as he ran his hands over his face. “Don’t tell me the famed vigilantes of Gotham have started believing that nonsense too.”

Even with the cowl, Dick could tell Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Your newest draft accurately describes Black Mask’s first attempt at criminal activity, including the injury that disfigured his face.”

“Bullshit.” His brother tensed as he moved the tire iron back to his hand.

“Jay, it doesn’t really matter what we do or don’t believe,” Dick spoke quickly as he moved between him and Bruce. “The important thing here is that a crime lord, who I might add is extremely volatile and paranoid, seems to think you have information about him that you shouldn’t.”

“So, you broke into my home just to warn me?” His words were slow and deliberate as if he wasn’t sure he believed them.

Dick smiled at him. “Do we seem like the type who would knock?”

“I mean, you could, but it would ruin the image.”

“We aren’t currently sure when Black Mask will make his move,” Bruce stated. He seemed to be both amused and exasperated by their bantering. Some things never changed. “We can’t guarantee your safety if you decide to remain here.”

“If you let us, we can take you somewhere safe.” It took everything in Dick’s being to not outright beg his brother to go with them. They couldn’t risk losing him again.

Jason snorted. “Somewhere safe probably means the GCPD. Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“No, you will be under our care.”

At Bruce’s statement, Jason raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You’ll be protecting me? How? By keeping me under house arrest and patrolling my building? It’s not like you Bats operate in the daylight. Gotham’s criminals tend to keep the same schedule you do, but they aren’t afraid of moving in the daylight if necessary. Besides, if, I don’t know, say another breakout at Arkham happens on the same night Black Mask makes his move, I won’t be your priority.” The vitriol in his last few words hit almost as hard as a physical slap.

While it was subtle, Bruce flinched at Jason’s words. It was something everyone in the man’s life had dealt with at least once, and Dick could attest to it. There had been plenty of times where he and the others had gotten hurt in the field, and Bruce’s priority was to finish the mission instead of checking on them. In Jason’s case, if Bruce had decided to focus on him on that fateful day, maybe he wouldn’t have been killed.

“You will be offered temporary protection at our base of operations,” Bruce clarified. When Jason didn’t drop his guard, the man added, “Let us… let me help you. Please.” The emotion breaking through the careful façade of Batman’s image finally made Jason hesitantly agree.

…

It took less than ten minutes to pack some clothes and Jason’s most important belongings. Since there weren’t many of them, just the laptop, two books, the drawings, and the three plush animals, they easily fit. Much to Dick’s amusement, Jason also packed Alfred’s Tupperware. When it was brought up, Jason blushed and muttered something about how it wasn’t actually his, and that he needed to give it back. It took all of Dick’s willpower not to tease his brother about it.

When he was ready, they tried to coax him to go out the fire escape with them. However, Jason refused, saying he didn’t trust his hands enough to be able to safely climb down the ladders and would meet them around the corner. The rationale made sense, but something about it felt like a lie. As they left, Bruce radioed to the others to watch the other exits knowing Jason would likely try running.

They thought Jason would end up going out the back of the building, but he surprised everyone by taking to the rooftops. While he couldn’t get far without a grapple, he knew the layout of the area so well he was easily able to use the various fire escapes to dodge in and out of the buildings of Crime Alley. That familiarity caused them to lose sight of him multiple times. If it wasn’t for the tracker Bruce slipped into his bag, Dick believed there was a good chance they may have lost him.

With that said, Bruce did have an idea of where Jason was heading. He asked the rest of them to patrol while he intercepted him. And rather unfairly, in Dick’s opinion, he asked Babs to mute his side of the comms.

The others tried to comfort him by reminding him Jason was basically a civilian at this point. Gotham residents usually liked and respected their protectors but were also wary of them. But Jason wasn’t just a civilian. He was Dick’s brother, his first brother. Was it too hard for the others to understand that he just didn’t want to risk losing Jason again? No one was there to stop him the last time he ran, and it had led to his death.

About twenty minutes later, the radio silence broke on Bruce’s end when he announced that he was taking Jason back to the Cave. Judging by Babs’ poor attempt at stifling her laughter and Jason’s cursing, it didn’t go nearly as well as it could have. As much as he wanted to go to his brother’s side, he had to wait until the patrol was finished.

Babs did promise to show him the cowl footage though. Apparently, Jason managed to hit Bruce with a tire iron for the second time in his life when he found himself cornered in the home he once made for himself when he was on the streets. After a small scuffle, the only way Bruce was able to get him into the Batmobile was to cuff him.

As a way of trying to calm him, Cass stated Jason’s movements seemed conflicted while they chased him. Dick noticed the occasional hesitations, but figured his brother was trying to figure out what his next steps would be. Yet, as he thought about it more, the more it didn’t make sense. Out of all of them who once wore the title of Robin, Jason had been the best at responding to the flow of the fight. Once he had gotten sure of himself on the field, he rarely hesitated. Perhaps he knew he should trust them but couldn’t bring himself to do so.

Maybe breaking into his apartment hadn’t been the best way to gain his trust. Well, it wasn’t like they could take it back now. Besides, Jason would be back home soon. This time, there will be time to make amends.

…

When Dick returned to the Cave with the others, he found Jason was no longer cuffed, but he wasn’t exactly free to roam. Bruce had put him in one of the holding cells.

“Last time I checked, this isn’t the way to treat family,” he hissed at Bruce.

“If he’s allowed to roam, we can’t guarantee he will stay in the Cave,” their dad replied, matter-of-factly, irritating Dick more. Dropping his voice, he added, “Jason’s codes haven’t been changed since before his death. With how much he’s subconsciously remembered, I don’t want to risk an accidental breach.”

“Then change them!” Dick pretended to ignore the flash of hurt on Bruce’s face at that statement. “You can’t keep him in there.”

“It is only until we can capture Black Mask or his memories return.”

“I am not treating my brother like a criminal because of your paranoia,” Dick pointed an accusatory finger at the man, “decided the best way to protect him was to shove him in a glass box! It would be better to bring him upstairs, but I know you won’t do that.” Glancing towards Jason, who was attempting to make it look like he wasn’t paying attention to them, he lowered his voice. “And if you don’t remove that plaque from the memorial before he sees it, Bruce, so help me…”

“Uh…”

At Tim’s voice, Dick reigned in his anger. For the sake of Tim, Cass, and Damian, he tried to keep up appearances. They didn’t need to see the vitriol he could sling at Bruce. He made that mistake with Jason. Turning to see his younger siblings and Steph, who still counted, he gave them a tired smile. “What’s up?”

“What if at least one of us is with him at all times in the Cave so he doesn’t have to stay in there the entire time?” Steph suggested as he glanced towards Jason.

“I will watch him,” Cass promised.

“What if we show him some of his old case reports?” Tim suggested. “It might help jog his memory. Or ask him to help with some of the open ones.”

Steph sniggered. “You just want to work on something with your hero. When are you going to show him the stalker pictures?”

“Don’t you dare breathe a word of that!” After glancing back towards the cell to see what Jason may or may not have heard, Tim shifted uncomfortably. “Actually… they might help his memory. I’d have to go through them to figure out which ones would be best…”

“What about you, Dami?” Dick noticed Damian had been somewhat distracted since returning to the Cave. He’d been staring at Jason. It wasn’t necessarily judgmental, but he did seem puzzled by him. That made sense. Unlike the others, he didn’t know much about Jason or how to interact with him. Dick could take part of the blame for that. It wasn’t right for them to shy away from the dead, but that’s exactly what they did. “Do you have any ideas?”

Damian didn’t respond immediately, deciding to carefully pick his words. “…Mother once said that as warriors, our battles are carved into our very souls, forcing the body to remember even if the mind failed. I had believed she referred to how movements become instinctual after enough training. Perhaps I had misunderstood what she meant.” He shifted ever so slightly. “While I doubt he would be able to handle our current level of training, joining in katas or sparring could prove beneficial.”

“Or some equipment maintenance,” he murmured as he considered Damian’s idea. It was just as viable as any of their other ideas.

A loud sigh from Babs came across the comm of the Batcomputer. “Maybe you should actually ask him what he wants before you make decisions for him. I don’t know about you, but I’d be pretty pissed if I’d just gotten captured and thrown in a cell before being told I was going to be forced to join your cult.”

“It’s not appropriate to compare us to a cult, Oracle.” Bruce sounded offended.

“I can kind of see her point though.” Dick made sure to look Bruce directly in the eye for his next line. “To the uninitiated, it could seem like a cult.” The angry stare was completely worth it.

He could feel Babs’ disappointment through the line. “Of course you had to make a joke. Why am I not surprised?”

“I’m hurt. It’s like you don’t even know me.” Glancing back toward Jason, he sighed. “I’ll go talk to him.”

“Maybe me or our resident fanboy should,” Steph countered as Tim made an offended noise at the nickname. “I know this is important to you, but you and the Boss Man did just break into his house and basically kidnap him.”

Although he wanted to argue, Dick had to admit she made a point. “I’ll go get him some water. Can someone ask Agent A to get a cot set up for him?” Glancing towards Bruce, who had been even quieter than he normally was, he added, “I’m serious about that plaque. Get rid of it, or I will. And I don’t think you want me touching it.”

He stormed off towards the MedBay where they had the water. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Maybe it would have been better for Bruce to make it appear Jason was being passed off to the Waynes. That’s how it had worked the first time around with him… no, that wasn’t quite right. Wasn’t Jason temporarily in a foster home that doubled as some shady front or something first?

Why did his siblings end up involved in the weirdest things? All of them, including himself, were just magnets for trouble. Maybe that’s why they all ended up under Bruce’s care. It was something to think about another day.

Grabbing an unopened water bottle, he made his way back over to where Jason was being held. To put it mildly, his brother was pissed. With an arm above his head and pressed to the glass of the cell, he was attempting to loom over Tim and Steph. With his stormy expression and how the scarring twisted his features, he looked terrifying. Too bad for him, it was hard to threaten vigilantes.

“Oh, it’s you,” he snarled when he caught sight of Dick approaching. “If this is how you treat the people you want to protect, I think I’d rather be one of your enemies.”

“I didn’t think he put you in there,” he explained as gave his brother an apologetic smile. It just seemed to worsen Jason’s mood. “But I definitely misjudged how afraid he is. We’re trying to work on a compromise.”

Jason glanced at Tim and Steph. “They told me. But what could I have done to make the big black bat afraid of me?”

“He’s not afraid of you,” Tim quickly spoke up. “He’s afraid for you.”

That made Jason shift uncomfortably. “Why? Other people in this city have been threatened, and he hasn’t….” His eyes narrowed. “He… you know who I was… Is that it?” When they didn’t answer him fast enough, he took that as confirmation. His anger seemed to deflate as his shoulders sagged. Turning, he plopped on the seat in the cell and hung his head. “All this time, there were people who knew. The scars should have clued me in that I was involved in something criminal. Why else would I have gotten on your radar?” He glanced up and gave them a smile full of self-loathing. “So what did I do? Ran some drugs? Helped some traffickers? Got wrapped up in whatever scheme that bastard clown came up with this month?”

Dick tried to ignore how eerily accurate Jason’s last guess was. “That’s… you weren’t a criminal. You were someone’s son and brother.”

“Don’t lie. No one missed me. I woke up alone with nothing, not even a name.”

“Dammit Jay!” he snapped. before letting his temper fall into something more resigned. “If I knew, I would have come and got you. But how do you search for someone who died six years ago?”

He hadn’t meant to be so loud. Or maybe he hadn’t been, and it was just his brother’s flinch that made it seem that way. No matter which, the silence that followed was deafening. He didn’t want this conversation to go this way. It should have been soft and controlled, not raw and emotional.

“Up until your appearance on the Vicki Vale Show, no one here knew you were alive,” Tim explained as Dick struggled to get his emotions under control. “You were declared dead when you were fifteen.”

Jason’s eyes widened as he glanced down at his mangled hands. For a moment he didn’t move, giving Dick that image of someone who was more dead than alive again. Taking a deep breath, he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. “That explains a lot.”

Anyways,” Dick changed the subject, glad Jason hadn’t wanted more information for now. It wasn’t a conversation he was ready to have. “I brought you some water. Someone will be by in a little to get a cot set up and bring you some food.” When Jason eyed the water suspiciously, Dick made sure to open it and drink a little so his brother knew it wasn’t some sort of trick.

It had been a quirk of Jason’s when he first arrived in the Manor. He wouldn’t drink tea or water or anything in those first few weeks if he didn’t see Alfred or Bruce pour their own drink from the same source and take a sip. He had no idea how bad things had been on the streets for his brother to have developed that behavior, but it must have helped keep him alive and mostly intact.

Although Jason still didn’t relax, he mumbled something about leaving the bottle. Dick would consider that a win. “I know Red Robin and Spoiler,” he eyed the two as they slinked away, “went over some options with you. We’ll revisit them tomorrow. None of us want you in there.”

“Except him.” He jerked his head towards Bruce.

“He wants to keep you safe and has the emotional intelligence of an ant.” Dick ran his hand through his hair. “I mean, no one in this family is great at discussing our problems, but he takes it to a new level. After losing a son, his overprotectiveness got a thousand times worse.”

“Did he lose him because of your…” Jason gestured at his mask, “job?”

“Yes and no. One of our rogues killed him, but he wasn’t the main focus of the attack, just a prize. I don’t know the full story, and I don’t think anyone other than my brother did. It’s not like I could ask him.” Dick wasn’t equipped to have this conversation with Jason.

“He was the lost Robin.”

The certainty of Jason’s voice caught Dick off guard. “How did you…?”

“Crime Alley still talks about it.” His brother’s gaze grew distant. “How the boy vanished and how Batman became a monster. They whispered it was the anger of a father losing a child.”

Dick sat down in front of the cell and leaned back on his arms. “He met the second Robin in Crime Alley.” He gave a conspiratorial grin. “Believe it or not, he was stealing the tires off the Batmobile.”

The way Jason’s eyebrows shot up in surprise made him chuckle. “Kid had some balls. Must have been desperate if he even thought to approach it.”

“I miss him. Wish I hadn’t let my personal problems with B get in the way of my relationship with him.” He sighed as he glanced back towards Tim and Steph, who were talking with Cass, and then over at Damian, who was still near Bruce. “I learned my lesson and have done everything I can to be there for them. But enough about that. Let me go check on the snacks you’re supposed to get. Is there anything you need?”

“Yeah, to get out of here so I can get back home.”

Dick’s smile wavered. “We’re working on it, Jay.”

…

He wasn’t sure how much sleep he actually got. Most of his dreams were filled with explosions and disembodied screams. Assuming it was a sign that he needed to go make sure Jason was okay, Dick gave up on sleep and made his way down to the Cave. He wasn’t exactly keen on putting on his costume again so soon. Gym sweats and his mask should be good enough.

As he entered the Cave, he caught sight of Damian in his Robin costume sharing tea with Jason. The door to the cell had been opened, but their brother hadn’t exited it yet.

“I’m surprised you’re down here so early,” Dick called out as he approached them.

Damian’s expression turned sour as he appraised him. “Father won’t be pleased with what you deemed appropriate attire.”

“He’ll live. I thought you had school this morning?”

“I did, but someone called in a threat against the facility. It’s believed to be a prank, but the staff is taking the necessary precautions.”

“Good ol’ Gotham. Some things never change.” Jason gave a slight chuckle before taking another sip of tea.

That caught Dick’s attention. “Did something like that happen to you?”

His brother tilted his head. “I’m pretty sure the Riddler once tried using the gym as a death trap when I was really little. Huh? I didn’t realize I still had any of those memories.” His surprise at the recall seemed genuine, so maybe it had been recently uncovered.

If that was the case, that was a good sign. “Once we get clearance to show you more of the Cave, we should show you some of the other things we’ve swiped from the Riddler over the years. Maybe it’ll bring up some more memories.” Especially the ones from Jason’s cases, but Dick knew better than to state that outright. “I don’t think anyone in Gotham has been spared from dealing with at least one of our Rogues. Anyways, did you save any of Agent A’s tea for me?”

Jason looked him directly in the eyes as he poured himself another cup and purposely showed that was the last of the pot. “It appears we’re fresh out.”

“I guess I deserve that.” It didn’t stop him from stealing the last of Alfred’s scones he’d sent down with the tea. The outrage on Jason’s face made it worth it. For a moment, it reminded him of those rare times he had been over for breakfast when Jason first came to the Manor. He had been so protective of his food. “So, what have you two been talking about?”

“I have been providing him with more information about our… organization.”

Instead of agreeing, Jason rolled his eyes at Damian. “He’s been giving me a very biased run down of everyone else associated with you guys. I think you, Batman, and your Agent A are the only people he’s spoken of in somewhat fond terms. He also promised to end me if I betrayed any of you as well as offering me fighting lessons because I’m ‘severely lacking in any semblance of fighting techniques.’”

“Robin,” Dick sighed. He knew his youngest brother meant well, but sometimes it didn’t come across that way.

Damian just huffed. “I spoke truly. He could benefit from being taught how to defend himself. A tire iron is hardly a viable weapon.”

“Anything can be a weapon, especially in Crime Alley.”

“While there is truth in that statement, proper form and training is needed to be able to handle any disadvantages such an object could grant you.”

Jason didn’t directly say anything. Instead, he gave Dick a look that plainly read ‘is this kid for real?’ There was such familiarity in the expression that it made him want to ruffle his brother’s hair, just like in the old days. But that wouldn’t be appropriate. Jay didn’t currently view him as family.

“It couldn’t hurt,” Dick stated with a shrug. “Besides, it gives you something to do other than just sit in there.”

“Like I can keep up with the great vigilantes of Gotham.” Something that seemed dark and self-directed snuck into Jason’s words.

Unsure what brought that on, Dick decided to risk it and pull Jason to his feet. “Don’t think like that. We all started somewhere. Besides, you proved you could outmaneuver some of us when you had the advantage with the terrain. I think you’ll do just fine.”

“Don’t blame me when you get disappointed.”

There was that negativity again. If Dick remembered correctly, Jason had been insecure about himself and how he measured against him and Bruce early on. Was that what was going on? Or was it something else?

Deciding it would be best to observe and analyze, he led Jason and Damian to the training area. If he was honest with himself, Dick was excited to help Jason relearn this part of his life. He wasn’t involved in the majority of His early training, unlike with Tim and Damian. It was surreal, in what he decided was a good way. While there was still no telling if Jason would ever return to the vigilante life, training was a bonding experience he never really got to have with his first brother.

They started slowly. It wouldn’t be right to try to get Jason to try anything advanced without getting a better idea of how well he moved. There was an understandable stiffness, but his movements were jerky and disjointed. As he continued, while he didn’t outwardly say anything, his skin paled as a sheen of sweat appeared. With how he set his expression in determination told Dick more than anything else. Jason was in agony as he tried to move.

It didn’t make sense. Nothing they were doing was hard, but as Dick paid closer attention to his brother’s odd movements, he began to realize just how broken Jason truly was. He’d died with shattered bones, and then when the universe decided to bring him back, it didn’t do him the courtesy of healing any of it. Jason suffered through the worst of it alone, and unlike the rest of them, didn’t have anyone to help lovingly piece him back together. Either desperation or determination had to be what allowed him to move as well as he did during his flight.

“I think we’ll stop here,” he decided as he requested that Damian go get Jason a water.

Uncertainty and distrust flickered across Jason’s expression as he watched him. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry I pushed you. We,” Dick gestured upwards to show he meant everyone, not just him and Damian, “sometimes forget how it’s like for civilians. I should have realized earlier that you were hurting. How bad is it? Do you need anything?”

Jason shook his head. “I don’t like taking meds if I can help it. On bad days, I’ll sometimes use something over the counter, but I don’t want anything stronger. I’ve seen too many people lose themselves. In Crime Alley, sometimes the need to feel better becomes the only escape.” A hand passed over his eyes as if to hide his momentarily distant look. If Dick remembered correctly, Jason’s mother died from an overdose. Maybe it was another memory starting to break through. “I don’t want to risk falling into that trap.”

“If you need it, I can get you ice. We also have shower stalls over there. The heat could help.” Dick shifted uncomfortably as he made a mental note to contact Zatanna as soon as he could. His brother didn’t deserve to suffer. “But you didn’t really answer my question.”

A shrug answered him as Damian reappeared with water. “I don’t know what to tell you. It’s more the stiffness than anything else, and after last night... How the hell do you people tell time here? Anyways, don’t worry about it.” He glared up at the roof of the Cave before taking a drink from the bottle Damian wordlessly handed him before grimacing. “Kid, not that I’m not thankful, but how long was this bottle in that fridge?”

“I am not a kid,” Damian scoffed. “Pen… Agent A regularly restocks our supplies. While unlikely, it is possible something was missed.”

“Or someone recently used the drinks fridge to store food or samples again. I can’t tell you how many times that’s happened in the past. We can get you a new one.”

Jason debated it for a moment. “It’s just water, and I’m not one to waste. I’ll deal with it.”

Grabbing the bottle out of his brother’s hand before he had a chance to fight back, Dick took a swig. Coughing from the unpleasant and almost acidic taste, he walked over to the nearest ledge and poured it into the chasm below. “Yeah, you’re not drinking that. Glad I didn’t give you anything like that last night.” Dick made a face. “Well, decontaminating the drink fridge wasn’t on my list of things to do today.” He glanced at Jason. “Wanna help?”

He almost laughed at the incredulous look on his brother’s face. Almost. But he did allow himself to chuckle when Jason muttered, “When I got abducted by vigilantes, I didn’t think I’d have to help clean house.”

============

Notes:

So, I’m currently studying different types of fencing. One of the things you learn is that even rookies can get really good hits on veterans, and sometimes, instinctual moves end up working better than anything planned. Or sometimes, it makes things worse.

“The Bruce-English translator is not available at the moment. Perhaps you want to try the closest Non-communicative Parent proxy?” – quote from SummersSixEcho on the BatPham discord when she read that line about Dick translating Bruce speak for Jason.

Jason’s memorial says “Jason Todd: a good soldier.” Dick had very choice words about it when he saw it for the first time after confronting Bruce after not being told about Jason’s death. He’s the only one in the family who seems to have appropriately thought it was terrible. Even Alfred defended the decision to have it say that.

#don't forget to write #fanfiction #fanfic #Jason Todd #Red Hood #Dick Grayson #Nightwing #Bruce Wayne #Batman #DC comics #Writer AU

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grandmaster-anne · 1 year

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Margaret, Mustique & me

By Sara Tapia | Published 26 November 2020

She and her late husband turned the island of Mustique into a paradise for the rich and famous, including Mick Jagger, David Bowie and many a royal family member – so it’s safe to say that Lady Anne Glenconner has more than her share of stories to tell. The 88-year-old delighted royal enthusiasts with her bestsellling 2019 memoir and she admits writing the tome opened up some thrilling opportunities.

“My life is so full of surprises and adventures since writing Lady in Waiting,” Glenconner tells WHO.

One of those is writing her first work of fiction, Murder on Mustique, a gripping murder mystery that she says was “inspired by” Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple series. “I’ve always loved reading murder mysteries, so after the success of my memoir Lady in Waiting, this seemed like the obvious next step,” she explains of the book. “It made sense to set the novel in a place I know well, so Mustique was the perfect choice. I wanted to whisk readers away somewhere exotic they might not have had a chance to visit in real life.”

The private island in the Caribbean is a place that holds many dear memories for Glenconner. The author, who was a maid of honour at the Queen’s Coronation and later became lady-in-waiting to Princess Margaret, would spend many a holiday enjoying the crystal clear waters with her close friend. “I have memories from every corner of the island,” she explains of the hotspot – often dubbed a “playground for millionaires”. “Princess Margaret and I used to swim up and down the bay. She would swim breaststroke and I would do an inelegant front crawl. We had the most wonderful long chats on those swims – once we started, we could talk about anything. You lose your inhibitions in the water and nobody can overhear you!”

Her close connection to the British royal family has also seen Glenconner feature in Season 3 of The Crown, where she’s played by actress Nancy Carroll. “I met Nancy Carroll, who played me in the last [season], as she came to meet me for tea before she started the role,” the author tells. “She was absolutely charming – and I was delighted they had chosen her to play me as she was so pretty!”

While you can easily get lost in her dazzling life story, the same can be said for Glenconner’s fictional storytelling. So much so, you’d be correct in thinking the plot of her new novel had some elements of truth to it.

“I have vivid memories of Mustique, and I know the island inside out, so I wanted to do justice to the atmosphere and setting, and include details that only I know,” she says of taking a trip down memory lane for inspiration.

Captivating, suspenseful and endlessly entertaining, Murder on Mustique follows the mystery disappearance of American heiress Amanda Fortini on the island, and Detective Sergeant Wilton and the island’s owner Lady Veronica’s search for a killer. And while it’s only just been released, Glenconner is already itching to tell the next story. “I’m planning another novel featuring the same lead characters, as I’ve loved spending time with them and hope readers will, too,” she tells WHO. “The setting may be different next time – watch this space …”

At the ripe age of 88, it seems the Norfolk-based socialite has found her calling in telling tales. “In many ways I’m happier now … than I’ve ever been,” she adds.

ISLAND MEMORIES

While her husband, the late Lord Glenconner, passed on his entire fortune to an employee upon his death in 2010, Lady Glenconner still visits Mustique regularly. “I’m very lucky that I have a great friend who lives there,” she tells.

#princess margaret #lady anne glenconner #article

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jollythunderstorms · 1 year

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So while I was watching episode 2 I noticed that, besides the book with the clue, there were other books in the shelf as seen here:

Being curious, I took a closer look to see if there was something significant on it (this was supposed to be the society's room after all)

(From L to R)

The first book is Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier, a novel where a young woman is haunted by the memory of her husband's late first wife, to whom she's frequently negatively compared to, so it deals with themes of jealousy, escaping memory, the past, etc.

Second is Plutarch's Lives, a series of biographies of famous Roman and Greek men illustrating their common moral virtues/failings juxtapositioned with one another

Third is Essays and New Atlantis by Sir Francis Bacon, the former delves into a variety of different topics while the latter is depicts an utopian (*cough* happy *cough*) land in the mythical Bensalem

Fourth is the book clue itself, My Island Paradiso by a J. Haley which, unlike the others, doesn't seem to be an actual book! Google doesn't show anything when you search for it BUT the supposed author shares their name with Jay Haley, one of the founding figures of brief and family therapy and of the strategic model of psychotherapy

Next is Harvard Classics Vol. 37: Locke, Berkeley, Hume, the three major English philosophers in Empiricism (of which Bacon is also considered the father of, mentioned above) which emphasizes all hypotheses and theories must be tested against observations of the world aka "knowledge is based on experience"

Sixth is Lewis Cass by Andrew C. McLaughlin, an US biography on the aforementioned 18th century man who was a leading spokesman for "popular sovereignty" aka the belief that each citizen has sovereignty over themselves (tho mainly to determine if they get to keep slaves 'cause US)

Seventh is Kidnapped by R. L. Stevenson, an historical fiction novel based around the Appin murder so it centers heavily on the concept of justice

I can't for the life of me make out what the eight one is

And the last one is How to Read a Book by Mortimer J. Adler, which gives guidelines for critically reading books of any genre

#is the symbolism symbolizing or am i seeing things???#like 5 gives me ms perumal vibes and essays is very mr benedict #regardless it was fun researching this #there's def a theme tho #the mysterious benedict society #tmbslb

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androidcharles · 2 years

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And we're back! I'm gonna try to update every Wednesday (or every other Wednesday depending) but in the meantime, under the readmore is Chapter 2! Enjoy!

Chapter Directory First (also Previous) | Next ->

A week had passed since Charles had been kidnapped by the N.E.R.Ds. The case they were working had everything to do with them, considering that they were now out in the open. Despite the fact that they were expected to work together (as that’s what they did super well), Henry and Ellie were the only ones really doing anything about the case, searching the city for any clues as to where the new hideout for the N.E.R.Ds was.

Charles, meanwhile, had taken it upon himself to keep an eye on the Toppat girl who was behind the strings of robberies. So far, it had been quiet on her front, but Charles was keeping an eye on the locations that had been hit thanks to Henry and Ellie’s book keeping.

“It seems like those nerds have found a new hiding spot,” Ellie said, pouring over a map of Stickburg while Henry played with some string, “We’re having a hell of a time locating them though. What about you Charles?”

“I don’t know, maybe she knows we’re onto her…” Charles said. He didn’t know if Ellie or Henry knew the Toppat was an android as well. Maybe they already knew but that was very unlikely. Still, it was almost upsetting that she was hiding out again. But it’s as Wendell said; Toppats were always a bit slippery.

“Well, it’s alright. She’s been slipping away from the authorities too. We’ve been running ourselves ragged trying to find these guys though. We’ve managed to arrest one or two, but the general said ‘Deja vu’ whenever we capture them because they didn’t have much to go on,” Ellie said.

“Kinda like the Toppats…” Charles muttered.

YEAH, YOU GUYS WERE HAVING A TIME PINNING THEM DOWN BEFORE YOU GOT MY HELP, Henry signed very smugly as Charles puffed his cheeks out at him.

“You act like you did ALL the work. I helped you, you know. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been able to get those documents!” Charles said. Henry shrugged as he went back to work on the string.

“Maybe there’s a connection… do you think the N.E.R.Ds are working with whatever remaining Toppats are out there? Some had to get away!”

“Not too many. Other than our mystery girl, most of the Toppats that got away were low ranking goons among the bunch. Not enough to really inspire or kick start a new frontier, according to the general,” Charles said, “Heck, I’m going against protocol looking after this girl for you guys.”

“What?! Charles if you’re gonna get in trouble, than me or Henry-”

“No, no, it’s fine! I could use the practice on the field. I might have to start somewhere considering you know… I’m not very good at fighting and all...” Charles said.

“Well that’s true. We just don’t want you to get in trouble,” Ellie said.

“Pfft, please. I’ve been in trouble before for doing things I wasn’t supposed to. Most of the time I got a slap on the wrist. Other times well… mopping the complex is very hard when Rupert keeps nagging you about how I convince him to do dumb things,” Charles said. Henry let out a small ‘hmph’ as Ellie gave Charles a sort concerned look.

“I just don’t want you to push it. One day you’re gonna get in a situation where not even General Galeforce can really back you up. Your safety net can fray at any time you know…”

“I’ll be fine!” Charles said, “Besides, you guys wouldn’t have asked me to keep an eye on her if it wasn’t important. I just have to not use government equipment when doing it.”

“Aren’t you technically government equipment?”

“I’m my own person Ellie, geez… they can’t pull that whole ‘you’re a piece of equipment’ bullshit on me. If I quit, they can’t exactly take out my weapons or erase my memories of the time I spent there… well they can erase all the top secret information that I have on me right now, including the launch codes…”

“THE WHAT!?” Henry and Ellie shouted. Charles pursed his lips as he pressed his fingers together.

“You didn’t hear that.”

“Fine,” Ellie said, “What are you gonna do?”

“Well, for the past few weeks, our Toppat has been going in a pattern around town. She might hit either this store or this store next,” Charles said, “At least, that’s what Henry said.”

“Well, Henry used to be a thief, but if it were me, I would throw them off, and hit a more secluded location away from the pattern,” Ellie said.

MAYBE SHE’S DOING IT TO GET ATTENTION. TRY TO KEEP THE TOPPAT CLAN A THREAT WITHOUT IT REALLY BEING ONE, Henry said.

“I have to agree with Henry here. I mean, if I wanted to plan a comeback if I was part of a criminal syndicate, I would probably try to get as much attention as possible…” Charles said. The three were silent as Henry suddenly came to a realization.

CHARLES… WHERE ARE REG… THE TOPPAT LEADER AND HIS RIGHT HAND MAN LOCKED UP?

“Very secure prison. Not even the Wall can compare. They’d have to get assistance from some top tier prison breakers in order get out. Even than, security is air tight…” Charles said.

“Henry you’re being paranoid… but than again, she’s kind of like you. She always seems to have the right thing at the right time. You don’t think…”

IN ALL HONESTY, IT WOULDN’T BE IMPOSSIBLE FOR OTHER PEOPLE LIKE ME TO EXIST. BUT I HIGHLY DOUBT SHE’S ANYTHING LIKE ME. IT COULD BE POSSIBLE THAT SHE’S JUST CRAZY PREPARED…

“So you think that this girl is eventually going to try to find out where these guys are being held and break them out? I don’t know… why wouldn’t she have done that a long time ago? Why wait?” Charles asked.

“Maybe to keep the government off her heels?” Ellie said.

“But than why the robberies? She’s not exactly hiding her face. Even from far away, you can kinda tell what she looks like,” Charles said, “Ugh, either my processors are out of date or this isn’t making any sense!”

“The latter, more likely.” Ellie set down her coffee cup and scanned the map, “So why don’t you stake out the location you had in mind for her next robbery. Me and Henry will continue to work the N.E.R.D case.”

“What? I’ve been staking out pretty much every night for the past few days. Are you sure you guys don’t need my help?” Charles asked.

“We’ll manage Charlie. Just stay out of trouble,” Ellie said, “And don’t hesitate to call us if you need our help.”

“Got it.”

- - - - -

For the fourth night in a row, Charles was sitting in an alleyway, trying to keep a low profile as he watched the street carefully for any signs of strange activity. He had gotten used to this at this point, but he wondered how so many people could keep it up without getting completely bored. He checked his internal clock, groaning that it had only been an hour since he started. Maybe he should bail and take Ellie’s advice; look into an out of the way jewelry store.

“HELP! THIEF! STOP HER!”

“SHE’S GETTING AWAY! SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE!”

That’s my cue!

Charles jumped out of the alleyway, practically sprinting down the sidewalk as he followed the sound of the ruckus before he suddenly flinched at the huge explosion. He gasped as from the smoke emerged the girl, carrying a sack presumably full of stolen jewelry as she suddenly leapt fifty feet into the air before running across the rooftop.

“Damn, she’s good…” Charles muttered as he turned his arm into a grappling hook, pulling himself up to the top of the building and pursuing her. He leapt from building to building, trying to keep focused on her (mostly due to the fact that she was giving off a wi-fi signal) and keep himself from plunging to his death below.

He came to a screeching halt as he suddenly came to a gap he couldn’t quite jump over. He growled as he grabbed the ledge of the building, cursing his dad and the general for not allowing him to have any flight capabilities. Where was she?

“You’re tracking me…”

Charles gasped as he turned around to see the girl, her eyes filled with curiosity as she walked towards him, bag still in hand. She tossed it to the side as Charles tried to look intimidating, crouching down into a fighting stance as she charged at him. He was quick to dodge as he grabbed her leg and tried to trip her up, but she was faster, immediately turning her hand into a laser cannon and firing at him. Quickly dodging, he flipped back, trying not to look nervous as he turned his hand into a laser sword in an attempt to be intimidating.

“Really, Unit CC? You’re gonna do that?” Amelia said as she turned her own hand into the same thing.

“Unit… how did you know my old name?!” Charles shouted as she charged at him.

“You don’t remember me? A little thing called Project SAI!?” she shouted as she slashed at him. He dodged the attacks as he swung back, his swings impacting her own sword as he gritted his teeth.

“Why would I remember you? I barely remember the first year of my life!” Charles shouted. She gasped as she jumped back, a sort of shocked look on her face.

“You… you don’t remember me?” she said softly.

“AM I SUPPOSED TO!?” Charles shouted, “Either way you’re a Toppat, so I’m going to take you down and arrest you, right here and right now!” Charles’ hand turned into a laser blaster as the girl gasped before she charged at Charles, knocking him down off of the building, his blast going flying into the sky as he panicked.

He turned his hand into a grappling hook and hooked onto the nearest building, swinging around as he scanned the rooftops for the girl, before going back to his usual tracking methods. Suddenly, a chat box popped up on his UI, aggravating him a little.

“NOT NOW!” Charles muttered, trying to close it, before a message popped up.

GlitterToppatGirl: You aren’t going to get anywhere trying to track me. If you attack me, I’m just going to attack you. No matter how much it hurts.

xXBold_Action_ManXx: Why do you care? Charles typed in response, And how did you know my old name?

GlitterToppatGirl: How come you don’t remember me? Did the government erase your memories?

xXBold_Action_ManXx: No, they didn’t. I was found without my memories.

GlitterToppatGirl: How do you know that? You can’t trust them you know.

xXBold_Action_ManXx: I trust them. Whether you like it or not. And I’m gonna find you again whether you like it or not!

“We’ll see about that…” Before Charles could even say anything, Amelia was right behind him. He didn’t have a chance to attack her before she shot him in both of his legs, causing him to cry out as he fell to the ground, shaking as she looked at him with her cold blue eyes.

“I’m sorry Unit CC…” she whispered before running off once again.

“No… god damn it… my self reparation… C’mon, c’mon…” Charles muttered as INSUFFICIENT MATTER flashed on his screen.

These picky things I swear, Charles thought to himself as activated his cell phone, calling Ellie.

“Charles? What’s going on, what happened?” Ellie said.

“My legs… the girl blasted them. She’s an android just like me!” Charles shouted.

“What!? How come you didn’t tell us!?”

“I… I just found out too!” Charles lied, “Anyway, I need your help. You need to get to Donavan Street and bring me something to eat OK? Any matter will do!”

“We’re on our way!” Ellie hung up as Charles pressed his head against the ground, whimpering a bit, not only at the pain but at the fact that he let the Toppat get away. Why did this feel so familiar?

Meanwhile, from the top of the building, Amelia watched as Charles lay on the ground, feeling a bit guilty about leaving him there.

“Why the hell does this have to be so complicated? Why did he, of all androids, have to saved by the government?”

- - - - -

Charles lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he mindlessly watched a Newtube video to get his mind off of things. He heard a knock at the door and turned his head.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” Charles perked up as he saw his friend Henry walk in, all smiles, but his eyes full of concern.

ARE YOU FEELING ALRIGHT NOW? LEGS IN PAIN?

“Not anymore,” Charles said, “They just sustained a bit of damage, but it was mostly minor. I hate to say this, but I don’t think she was trying to hurt me. I think she was just trying to prevent me from chasing her.”

THAT’S GOOD. I DON’T WANT YOU TO GET HURT. YOU’RE VERY IMPORTANT TO ME.

“Red flag alert…” Charles muttered, half jokingly as Henry walked towards him, sitting next to him and rubbing his back. Charles hugged him tightly, smiling as Henry giggled.

FOR AN ANDROID, YOU’RE QUITE WARM.

“I… well, you know. Processing and all that,” Charles said, “My self replicating nanites also serve as a coolant though, so I’ll never overheat, hehe…”

KINDA LIKE BLOOD… ARE YOU REALLY ALRIGHT?

“I’m fine Henry. Don’t worry,” Charles said softly, “I’ve been in worse pickles. One time, half of my face came off of my… well face, and man was it hard to explain that to Konrad and Calvin. They thought I was like… a Terminator or something.”

I WOULDN’T BE SHOCKED.

“This is the part where I’d quote the movie but… I’ve never watched the movie,” Charles admitted.

GUESS I KNOW WHAT WE’RE DOING FOR MOVIE NIGHT, Henry signed hopefully. Charles smiled as Henry relaxed against his shoulder, giving Charles a warm fuzzy feeling as he sighed, trying to figure out what to say next.

“Henry, I’m sorry that I didn’t catch the girl. I was kind of hoping I could catch her because she’s so dangerous, you know. I mean, a Toppat that’s equipped like that, what if she tries to break the leaders out of prison?”

I THOUGHT YOU SAID THAT PLACE WAS SECURE.

“It is! For the most part, but the question is; is it Henry proof?” Charles said smugly. The two giggled as Henry shrugged.

WHO KNOWS? I’M JUST GLAD YOU GUYS MANAGED TO CAPTURE ME. I KNOW I TRIED TO BE A BIG SHOW OFF EARLIER TODAY, BUT IF IT WASN’T FOR YOU, WE WOULDN’T HAVE TAKEN THE TOPPAT CLAN DOWN THE FIRST TIME. I CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON YOU BRO.

“Ditto. But according to the soldiers, it’s almost like you wanted to be captured… why was that?” Henry shrugged as he waved his hands, smiling sheepishly at him as he stood up, getting ready to go bed for the night.

JUST GO AHEAD AND HEAD INTO SLEEP MODE OR… HOWEVER YOU WANNA CALL IT. I’LL SEE YOU TOMORROW.

“Mhm! See ya tomorrow Henry. Have a good night,” Charles said softly. Suddenly he thought of something and as Henry approached the door, he looked up.

“H-hey, Henry?” Charles asked. He wanted to ask why Henry was always so overprotective of him, why he always seemed to be the most concerned whenever he was hurt or in danger.

“What’s up?” Henry said softly. Charles sighed as he shook his head.

“Nevermind, it wasn’t important,” Charles said, “Good night.” Henry waved as he headed out the door, closing it behind him as Charles laid back on his bed, trying to think of anything besides what happened today. What did that girl mean by him not remembering her? Was there something to what she said. His processors spun out of wack as a couple of error messages appeared on his UI, aggravating him a little.

“Shut up,” Charles muttered, laying down on the bed and putting himself into sleep mode. Maybe his dreams would make a little more sense.

But in a way, they didn’t make sense.

Here he was, back in a place he didn’t recognize, in a dark room sitting down, not being able to move. And a cold steely gaze looking his way as he shook in place, trying to make sense of what was going on as his head started to pound. It was funny, he didn’t usually experience the phenomenon known as the headache in the waking world, but here, it was always so clear. Especially when the graphics that were holding his dream together kept glitching.

“Hello… who are you?” Charles said softly as the eyes suddenly moved, causing him to reach his hand out. He felt a sharp pain in his arm as he did this, cringing a bit as he finally stood up, shaking and shivering as he started to head towards the edge of the dark room.

It was hard to tell where the room ended and where it began, but for the longest time, it felt like he was swimming in an inky blackness, with the occasional sharp twitch from his RAM not quite cooperating with him.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up…” Charles muttered as he saw the error messages popping up in his peripheral vision. Finally, he bumped into a wall, groaning as he rubbed against the walls, finding a sort of turn wheel. He strained himself as he turned it, until it finally let out a small hiss, the pressure causing a door to open. He squinted against the new light, pushing the door open as he found himself in a grain field.

The world around him seemed distorted somehow. Fake, but not exactly real. He could feel the grain against the palms of his hands, but for some reason, it felt like the wheat was going right through him at the same time. A horrible pain shot up in the back of his head as he continued forward, trying to keep his mind off of what was happening as he saw a small town in the distance.

As he walked closer and closer towards it, he began to feel sort of funny. The world around him was glitching more and more as he headed up the stairs towards the windmill, feeling like he shouldn’t do this, like something would go wrong. He finally reached the top of the stairs, error messages alike flickering in his vision as he saw the silhouette of… someone…

Their body wasn’t quite right. It looked like someone he should recognize but at the same time, he didn’t know who it was. He wanted to know who it was, but at the same time he couldn’t quite figure it out. The figure glitched as it reached out towards him, as if trying to speak to him.

“Who are yoAUUAAAUGH!” Charles cried out, suddenly falling to the ground as he clutched his head. He tried to look up, but the world around him was slowly falling apart.

He couldn’t move.

ERROR! FILES MISSING OR CORRUPTED!

Shut up…

ERROR! FILES MISSING OR CORRUPTED!

SHUT UP….

ERROR! FILES MISSING OR CORRUPTED!

“SHUT UP!!” Charles screamed, suddenly rocketing up from his bed. He shook in place, taking deep breaths as his processors worked overtime trying to keep him calm as the error messages flickered away. This wasn’t the first time he had this nightmare, but it had been a while since he’d had it.

The last time he had it was after he had helped Henry infiltrate the airship. It was strange, because back than, he couldn’t think of anything that really prompted said nightmare. Maybe it was something he had done or someone he had talked to. Either way, he let out a small sigh as he sat up in bed properly, wondering if maybe it was connected to something. A bad decision, something that could go wrong, maybe even his own paranoia?

And now he was hearing things, he thought to himself as he heard a soft tapping. It sounding like someone tapping against glass actually… coming from behind him. He turned and saw the Toppat girl, looking at him through the window as he felt a small pressure in his abdomen. He remembered Ellie telling him that’s the equivalent of having a stomach ache. Suddenly a chat message popped up on his UI.

GlitterToppatGirl: Can we talk?

xXBold_Action_ManXx: No, good night. He tried to hide under the covers as another message popped up on the chat log.

GlitterToppatGirl: Please?

Charles groaned as he pulled himself out of the covers, looking at the girl, who had a sort of soft look in her eyes, nothing compared to the cold stare she had given him earlier. He sighed, feeling as it he had no choice. Slipping on his slippers and making sure that Henry and Ellie weren’t awake, he carefully opened his door and closed it quietly behind him. He grabbed a key for the apartment as he opened it quietly, closing it behind him before locking it.

He scanned the area, looking for the girl before he got another ping in his chat log.

GlitterToppatGirl: Up here.

She was right.

He headed down the stairs before pulling out his grappling hook, shooting it up towards the roof and finally ascending, feeling the cold evening air rushing around him as as he scaled the building, panicking a bit as he slipped. He looked down to see his slipper had only fallen off of his foot. He let out a small sigh, finally climbing onto the roof and saw her, staring at him intently.

Her bright blue eyes shone in the low light of the moon as she walked towards him, almost nervous.

“Hello,” she said.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t tell Henry and Ellie about you right now,” Charles said firmly.

“I just wanna talk,” she said, “Please, don’t do anything drastic.”

“I have to. You’re a Toppat,” Charles said, “So give me one good reason, right now…”

“Please, just listen to me,” she said, “I’m sorry that I blasted your legs. I had to get away from you because I wasn’t ready…”

“READY TO WHAT, GET ARRESTED?!” Charles shouted.

“Please, keep your voice down!” she shouted back.

“I can be as loud as I want to be! Just give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have you arrested!”

“BECAUSE I KNOW YOU!”

Charles gasped as he saw the desperation in her eyes, almost pleading as he suddenly backed off, feeling strange. Wait, he shouldn’t feel bad for her. She’s a Toppat, but still, at the same time, he felt like he shouldn’t let her down.

“I’m sorry, OK, I’m sorry that this had to happen this way! But the fact that you don’t even remember me or anything, it’s just scaring me! I don’t know what to tell you, but you really should remember me. They erased your memories, didn’t they?”

“The government? N-no, not at all. In fact, I’m not sure what would make you come to that conclusion. My memories were gone before I was even found by the government. The only thing I remember is a cold dark room with bright blue eyes watching me…” Charles shivered, trying not to think of his nightmare.

“So you remember that… what was the first thing you remember when you first woke up?” she asked.

“I remember, General Galeforce… back than he wasn’t a general, he was just a captain. He… he wanted to liberate me. To have me repaired because they thought I would be useful,” Charles said softly, “And than I went to sleep for another month… and when I woke up, I was fully repaired and completely operational. What about you?”

“So they saved you… I can’t believe they saved you. I wish I had known… oh god…” she sighed as she put her hands in her face, trying to process what was happening as Charles tipped her head to the side.

“Um… I hate to ask, but who are you? I really need to know,” Charles said.

“So you can have me arrested?” she said coldly.

“N-no… so I can at least know what to call you,” Charles said.

“You can call me Amelia. Just Amelia for now,” she said, “I’m sorry that I freaked out at you earlier. I just can’t understand why you don’t remember me or Project SAI.”

“Project SAI does sound familiar,” Charles said, “I remember my dad talked about it, but other than that-” ERROR “-drawing a blank.”

“So you only know about Project SAI through word of mouth. Well I lived every moment of Project SAI, from when I was first booted up to it’s downfall at the hands of the government. Including the eradication of any androids associated with the project.”

“Is that why you became a Toppat? Because you can’t trust the government?” Charles said softly.

“Why would I? I was pretty sure they would have had me dismantled as well. And for about six years I had convinced myself that you were dead too. I’m happy that you’re alive… even if you don’t remember me,” Amelia said.

“Uh, that’s good, so now I have questions about that. How do you know me?” Charles asked.

“We used to be close. We were inseparable, according to the other androids. To the other androids, however, you were considered defective, due to some kind of strange malfunction. One day, you were tasked with something that you couldn’t easily do so they declared you defective officially and had you carted away to be… used for spare parts…” Amelia looked up at Charles as if she had just realized something as he tipped his head to the side.

“You… they erased your memories. Why would they do that? It’s not like… why would they…” Amelia felt like she was trying to put together the pieces of a twisted puzzle.

“OK, I hate to interrupt your freak out, but I gotta head back inside, because I don’t know how quiet I was when leaving and my friends are going to assume I’m missing. Again,” Charles said.

“Wait, we have to keep meeting up, right? We can still talk to each other?” Amelia said.

“What? No we can’t! We’re not on the same side and besides, even if I could, it would still be wrong!” Charles shouted.

“Please, I have to talk to you again, even if we’re not on the same side, I just have to!” Amelia said.

“There’s too much for this… we can’t exactly justify this kind of thing…” Charles said. But my heart says otherwise. I mean I don’t have a heart, but at the same time, it’s all in the mind, right?

It can’t hurt to meet with her again. Especially if we don’t exchange any sensitive information, it should be OK right?

“Alright, here’s the deal. We’ll meet again. Twice every month or so. But the rules are we can’t say anything about our respective jobs. We keep everything locked up tight. We ask about our days, we talk about movies we’ve seen, et cetera, et cetera. That’s it. If I promise not to pump you for information, you have to do the same for me as well. I’m not gonna tell you anything and you won’t say anything to me,” Charles said.

“And this stays between us?” Amelia said.

“As long as we can. I mean, the odds of us getting caught are pretty high, but in all honesty, I’m willing to take the risk,” Charles said.

“Alright than. Maybe I’ll see you in a few weeks than…” Amelia waved goodbye as she ran across the roof before jumping on top of a nearby building, running off into the night. Charles sighed, wondering just what he had gotten himself into.

Maybe it’ll work out. And maybe if I do get caught, it won’t be so bad. After all, I’m not going to be exchanging any sensitive information. It’ll all work out in the end, right?

- - - - -

Amelia stepped into her own apartment, looking around before letting out a small sigh. She started to take off her formal clothes, quickly changing into something more comfortable before she sat down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling.

“Rough day?” Amelia looked up and saw Burt hovering over her, fiddling with his cane as she nodded her head.

Burt was the only Toppat they had managed to get out of the Wall so far. While Amelia would have prefered Sven or Carol or heck, even Red Crimson, Burt being here was still refreshing. Especially considering his own knowledge in technology and computers, being the former head of communications for the Toppat Clan. She was happy to work with him too, considering how close they were before the entire Clan was arrested.

“Did you find a seller for the jewels?” Amelia asked.

“Hmm, nothing yet. It’s only been an hour. We’ll get some bids soon though,” Burt said, “And than we can keep paying rent, giving those sweet dollars to those techno geeks-”

“-And of course, ensuring a budget for ourselves in the event we can actually get the rest of the clan out of the Wall. And than we can rescue my dad and the Right Hand Man…” Amelia said.

“Yep, but I wouldn’t count on it happening in a week. It’ll probably be another month or two before we have an actual concrete plan. Wendell himself said so,” Burt said.

“They promised they wouldn’t hurt the… government dog anymore. So I have less to worry about now…” Amelia paused as she said this, wondering if that was completely true.

“That’s the look of someone who made a promise that they’re not sure they can keep. What happened?” Burt asked.

“You know I snuck out?”

“Why do you think I’m awake?”

“Mmm… I’d rather not say right now. Just know that it’s not for our benefit.”

“Hmm.” Burt sat down next to her, letting out a small sigh.

“It’s at times like this I bet you miss your dad though. He’d probably offer some fatherly advice of some sort,” Burt said, putting his arm around her shoulder.

He’d probably tell me I’m making a big mistake. Say that I’m taking a huge risk. Maybe even get onto me for not pumping information out of him… Amelia thought to herself.

“Dad wouldn’t have really… approved of what I did, to be honest…” Amelia said.

“Aw, don’t say that. You’ll always be his little princess, no matter how old you get and how many bank heists you manage yourself,” Burt said.

“Yeah… I’m his little princess…” Amelia said, “I’m gonna turn in for the night.”

“For real this time?” Amelia smirked as Burt’s eyebrow shot up.

“For real this time.”

Meanwhile, across town, Charles had managed to sneak back to his room before he felt something tap his shoulder. He turned around to see Ellie looking at him with a sort of agitated look on her face, a slipper in her hand. His slipper.

“Lose something?” Ellie said softly as Charles snatched the shoe out of her hand.

“Don’t touch my stuff,” Charles muttered, “I’m not in the mood right now.”

“Can’t help if it was outside, you know, where you definitely don’t sleep. Just what are you up to?”

“Nothing. Nothing important anyway. It’s fine, I just had to… take a walk,” Charles said.

“With one slipper?” Ellie asked.

“I had to get the full sensory experience of having one shoe off. Just… GET OFF MY BACK ALREADY!” Charles shouted, before slamming the door in Ellie’s face. It didn’t really help that Ellie was practically cursing at him as he leaned against the door, trying to think about what to do next.

“It’s OK, Charles… you’re doing the right thing…” He pulled his head up to his knees, hugging his legs as he did.

At least I hope I am...

#the henry stickmin collection #henry stickmin #charles calvin #ellie rose #amelia copperbottom #burt curtis #fanfiction #fanfic #katie's stick drawings #the narrators stories

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