#while the wealthy and the privileged sat and watched and did what they always will: nothing

[bruciemilf]

The more I’m hearing about the situation in Gaza, the more disgusted and disturbed I am by the sheer, shameless inhumanity Israel displays daily.

Some few out of many, many, many, many exemples of what Israel did so far:

Dumped gallons of salt over water supplies so Palestinian people cannot safely drink from it

Israeli soldiers filmed themselves torturing a disabled man, stealing belongings of deceased and captive Palestinians, mocking and sexually assaulting Palestinian women, and many more

Bombed an entire hospital full of babies. Babies.

Murdered Hadiya Nassar, a Palestinian woman older than their joke of a state, by sniping her off a roof, simply because she stated a fact.

Threw a woman off a 5 story building just because

Kept the dead bodies of Palestinian prisoners on ice so they could serve their full sentences. Even AFTER they died. Some remains kept for up to 40 years. So they wouldn’t return these people to their families

Produced “Dead Palestinian Baby” dolls as a children’s toy. The toy comes with small bags for “limbs”

We must keep in mind that while genocide is entirely a product of politics, and a form of systematic oppression, we are truly witnesses to hatred. THIS is what hatred is, and this is what it does. When someone asks you how hatred looks like, tell them it looks like Israel.

[eclipixels]

His Preformer

Summary: A wealthy and privileged classmate, Coriolanus Snow, visits a strip club with friends. Unexpectedly, he discovers you performing on stage. A little OOC Coryo.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Your hands shook as you looked at your paycheck from your current job waitressing. This wasn't going to be enough to cover your groceries this month if they went towards the bills.

You'd been debating for some time now on finding a new job but it was very hard. Especially with your schedule.

"Hey girl," your regular customer came in.

"Just a milkshake, I got my paycheck today and I'm trying not to splurge." The customer spoke. Her name was Sarah and she had become a regular customer at the local cafe where you worked. Every morning, she would stroll in, her vibrant personality shining like a beacon. She was friendly, chatty, and it didn't take long for Sarah and you to strike up a casual friendship.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep working here. My paycheck just isn't cutting it, and I'm drowning in bills." You spoke as you worked up the vanilla caramel milkshake.

Sarah sighed, "I totally understand where you're coming from, girl. I used to be in the same boat."

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You were? I had no idea. What did you do to change things?"

Sarah leaned in, lowering her voice. "I work as a stripper at the club down Stover street, it turned out to be a game-changer for me. The pay is much better, and I have more control over my income. Plus, it's given me the financial stability I was struggling to find before."

You consider Sarah's words and are intrigued, to say the least. Are you sure you wanna go into this?

"How do I start?" You ask.

♡

A low whistle drags through Casey's lips once he spots the dimly lit stage. Casey was one of Coriolanus's friends along with Sejanus. Coriolanus quickly glanced around the club, observing the tables and wasted men. He followed Sejanus and Casey into the heart of the building, where red LED lights buzzed as it flared through the perimeter of the ceiling.

"Table for three?" The lady at the desk asked, pen hovering over a clipboard. The boys look over at Coriolanus, and he gives them a slight shake of his head in response. They already knew he would say no. He says it every time. They still ask.

"Just two." Sejanus answers.

"Just so you know, we only take cash here." The lady said as she looked up past her computer.

"Shit- You can cover this, right, Snow?" Casey gave him Sheepish smile.

"Yeah." Coriolanus replied, pulling the $530 out his wallet and handing it over to the woman with the tight sleek bun.

"You're all set, right this way!" She smiles as she escorts the two capitol boys into the VIP private rooms.

"Great." Coriolanus whispers to himself as he is now left all alone. Despite the type of people his friends are, it was out of Coriolanus's element to be at a strip club. But, here he was.

He decided to leave and pick up his friends when they were done. While he was starting to leave, he scanned the dimly lit room looking for an exit. His eyes widened with surprise when his gaze landed on a familiar face across the venue.

You, a fellow classmate from the academy, were on the stage, captivating the audience with your graceful moves. Your hair cascaded down your back, and your confidence was undeniable. Coriolanus remembered you as the easily angered and studious girl who sat next to him in statistics, not whatever this was. What a surprise, he thought.

He had always found himself behaving childishly with you with both your bickering and arguing. He swore that he always tried not to engage in it but he couldn't help it, it was so fun to tease and mess with you.

He couldn't help but watch you perform. Thank God there weren't many people here on Monday nights, but even with the very few people that were here, watching you, something burned in his chest. He didn't like this feeling.

After your performance ended, he made his way to the bar, trying to blend in with the crowd. Ordering a drink, he formulated a plan. He wanted no one else to see you like that. He looked at all the university boys and middle aged men in the crowd. They didn't deserve you. But, neither did he and he knew that. However, that didn't help the pang in his chest.

Coriolanus knew if you saw him, you'd kick him in the balls before he could even get out a word. So, he spotted a rack of masks for sale near the entrance and selected one that covered most of his face. It was exactly what he needed.

With the mask now concealing his identity, Coriolanus approached the reception lady and discretely handed her a wad of cash. "I'd like to purchase a week's worth of dances for that performer," he said softly, avoiding eye contact.

The reception lady, who was used to such requests, nodded and discreetly noted down the transaction. Coriolanus's heart raced as he watched her send the message backstage. You wouldn't know who had paid for your week.

As you finished your shift and emerged from the back, you were met by Linda, the receptionist, who handed you an envelope. "A masked man bought a week's worth of dances from you," She explained. "He's waiting in room 7"

Your eyes widened in disbelief as you took the envelope. You had no idea who could have done this. You opened it, revealing a substantial amount of cash.

Back in the room, Coriolanus was dealing with the consequences of his overthinking, debating whether or not to just leave a note saying he didn't want the dances and to accept the payment as a gift. But, he knew if he did that, you wouldn't appreciate it. You were a girl who only enjoyed the fruits of your labor and would never accept anything out of charity. Stubborn. That, and the fact that you would probably still perform, so he had to take up your slot so no one else could see you.

Coriolanus knew this was selfish and maybe even weird to some people. But it's a win for both parties, so what's wrong with it? You're still making cash.

The door opens and it snaps Coriolanus out of his thinking.

"So, You're the guy who rented my whole week out?" Your voice boomed through the confines of the room, he always heard you before he saw you.

God, there you were. Y/n L/n, and you were practically dripping in gold. Coriolanus never wanted an incarnation of something so desperately as in this moment. He scanned you from head to toe and a smile broke out on his lips as he watched you tap your foot and cross your arms.

"Yeah, got a problem with that– what was your name again?" He speaks.

"Angel" You huffed, not sparing him a glance. He stifles a laugh at your announcement.

"What's so funny?" You quirked a brow, hands now dropping to your hips.

"Nothing. It's just- you're anything but an angel." He laughed, throwing his head back as he leaned back on his palms.

"Who do you think you are?" You scowl, cheeks turning a shade of red, and he couldn't help but find it amusing. This whole situation humored him.

"Clock's ticking, babe." He takes a sip of scotch, gesturing with his fingers to the cool, metal pole.

"You want a show?" You smirk, walking over to the pole. "I'll give You a show" your voice saccharine as the words rolled off your tongue.

Your thighs gripped around the metal as you lifted both your feet up and twirled your body in a spiral. You gracefully flipped yourself and came back down, the muscle on your thighs and arms flexing as you did.

"How's that for a show?" You smirked, fixing yourself into a position known as the skater pose.

"Impressive. How about you strip for me now? I mean, that is what I paid for." He started to get cocky.

"Of course." You bit your lip in annoyance and gave a fake smile, swallowing back a snarky remark. You took off your fitted but revealing top and skirt, leaving you in a spaghetti strap crop with shorts that were given to you by the staff.

"All of it." He commanded sternly, resting his chin on his palm with a lustful grin. Your lips curved as you stripped into only your red two-piece lingerie. Unbeknownst to you, his favorite color.

"What a sight for sore eyes.." Coriolanus mumbled low, his heart starting to race. You looked extraordinary, like an image of a goddess and he couldn't believe it was all in front of him like that. He felt so unworthy but- fuck, was he so greedy towards wanting you.

"What? Got nothing to say now?" You teased. It took a few seconds, but suddenly, he grabbed your waist and stood up, his free hand going up to cup your face.

"Y’know, red is my favorite color, pretty girl" He states, face inches apart. So close. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours.

You didn't know what came over you, or what you were feeling for this stranger. Why did it feel like your heart was ready to jump out every time his hands wandered over your exposed skin?

"Who are you?" You ask finally, resting your hand on his neck. Gosh, you didn't realize how tall he was until now, or how his curly blonde locks of hair fell over his masked face. Who was he? Who was this man that bought out your entire week and indirectly helped you be able to pay rent for the next four months? The sound of a phone buzzing brought you back to reality from your thoughts

"Sorry darlin'," he playfully pouts, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear to get one last good look at your enchanting face.

"But, I gotta go. My friends are done." The mystery customer sighed sympathetically before grabbing his coat and leaving you inside the private room like nothing happened between you two.

You didn't know much about this job but what you did know was people came here for lustful reasons yet you felt something motivated by a different emotion behind that man.

Who was he?

♡ - a few days later - ♡

The sleep deprived woman, you, walked into class, the click of your shoes alerting the blonde haired boy whom you classified as an, 'arrogant, stereotypical asshole'.

"What are you looking at?" You snap, noticing his gaze on your ass. You were contemplating whether or not you wanted to stab him with your pencil right then and there.

"Nothing" he muttered looking away, completely dazed as his mind worked through the flashbacks of his hands kneading the supple flesh of your ass between his palms as he fucked you.

"Dumbass," You muttered to yourself.

"You're not much of an angel yourself, either.” He narrowed his eyes at you.

No one else would've thought anything of this. It was common for Coriolanus Snow and Y/n L/n to bicker the whole damn day if they ever had the time. So no one else caught it.

Except for you yourself. Dread set in as you tried not to overthink the word he used. Angel. There's no way in hell anyone knew about your new side job. How could anyone, you’d only been with one guy ever since you started. Shit, he's the only guy on your roster there.

You sighed and did you best to get over it. Besides, You'll confront the mystery customer tonight when he comes again.

In the meantime, oblivious to you, Coriolanus needed to do something about the tightening of his pants. Fuck.

♡

"Starting to think you’re wearing red more often on purpose" the mystery man spoke.

He was back there again for the fifth time this week. Same old routine and although you knew not to have sex with the customers, you couldn't deprive yourself the pleasure that came with getting fucked so damn good. You craved to have him inside you.

You roll your eyes, pretending not to be flustered by the little compliments he always gave you. It was hard for you to decipher if he was being genuine or not. Besides, what would it matter if this guy knew about you little infatuation with him. It's not like something could be done about it.

"But.." He whispers next to your ear, resting his chin on your shoulder. You shivered as a chill ran down your spine with the touch of his index finger roaming along your bare skin.

"I think," he glides the flat of his palm down from your arm to the small of your back.

"It suits you way better off." He finishes his sentence by placing a delicate kiss to your neck while unclasping your bra. The fabric fell to the floor, and a gasp issued out from your lips.

"I don't even know your name and I could get in so much trouble." You spoke as if the words that left your mouth mattered to you. You let this man fuck you before so many times within the past few days, so why was it different this time?

"You're saying you don't want me?" He pouts, trying his best to not cum in his pants from you ass rubbing against his crotch when you bent over to pick up your bra.

"Well..." You bit your lips in shame. You did, you really fucking wanted to.

"Just say the words, Angel," He whined. "and I'm all yours,"

"I-" You choked. Your brain was screaming yes.

"Don't think of the consequences." He reassured, trying his best to conceal the want in his tone.

"Okay." You answered breathly, giving in to your desires.

"Okay? Are you certain?" He wanted to make sure. "You can always stop whenever you want–" He was cut off by the abrupt kiss from your honey coated lips.

"Yes." You firmly stated. Coriolanus grinned mischievously before hoisting you up, legs naturally wrapping around his waist. Your cognitive thinking went haywire as soon as he snaked his arms around you, holding you steady.

His tongue explored the inside of your mouth and you could taste the liquor that stained his tongue. You knew he was muscular but you never truly took into account how strong that made him. His muscles flexed as he went lower and lower down your body, trailing sloppy wet kisses.

"So" kiss.

"Beautiful" kiss.

The mystery man finally placed you down on the counter of the mini bar, falling to his knees. You didn't know why, but your cheeks were burning red. No person you had sex with ever had you this damn flustered.

His kisses on your lower abdomen continued. Once he reached your thighs, your heart started to race ever faster. His platinum tufts of hair pooling against your pelvis.

"You wet for me?" He whispers into your skin, breath fanning against it and hands dangerously getting closer to your core.

"No…" You stuttered, clearly embarrassed by how much your body wanted this. Wanted him.

"Oh?" He lifted a brow as he moved your panties to the side and ran two fingers down your cunt, picking up the natural lubricant that was practically pooling.

"Why’d you lie to me, Darling?" His lips form a fake frown before he licks your juices off his fingers.

"You know I only wanna give you pleasure" He dragged his warm tongue against your folds. You couldn't help but let out a cry when his tongue flicked your clit.

"Is this good?" He asks, the words vibrating against your heat.

"Mhm," you moan, hands finding their way into his hair and using it to anchor yourself against his face, grinding your hips down on it.

"Fuck!" You moan out in pleasure. You’ve never felt this confident with a guy before. You guessed it was something about not fully knowing his identity that gave you more courage. That you can walk out of here and never see him again in your life. He only existed here and something about that made you less fearful.

"You close?" His words were muffled against your needy cunt.

"Yes." You gasp out. Suddenly, he pulls away from the grip between your thighs.

"What? Why'd You do that?" You confront frustrated.

"Well, it's not fair for you to come before you even touch me." He answers arrogantly. What the hell was wrong with him? How could he go from being so sweet to such a jerk?

"Fuck your feelings," You groan before undoing his jeans, about to pull his boxers down too but he catches your wrists before you gets the chance.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" He stares at you with something unreadable in his eyes.

"Since you're all about fairness, I'm gonna give myself a reward for all the hard work I've been doing." You state as if it's a matter of fact.

"No, what's fair is all that hard work has been rewarded with several bands." He chastised.

"So I can't enjoy my job?" You scoffed with a weak argument.

"Nothing in your job description says anything about fucking. In fact, You're strictly told not to." He chuckled. You didn’t know that he knew about the rules, how naïve.

"So you want to stop?" You challenged. Gosh, why were you so difficult?

"Do you want me to stop?" He fired back with the same tone. You turned your head to the side and scowled immaturely as a response

"That's what I thought," he conceited. He picked you up and placed you down on the loveseat. You peeked through the corner of your eye as he pulled down his boxers.

He was touching himself slowly but he really didn't need to with how hard he already was. You squeezed your legs and gripped the seat from sexual frustration. This was fucking torture. He knew how bad you wanted him and took that to his advantage.

"Want something, Angel?" He taunted.

"Need" You mumble the word.

"Oh, I know,” He mocks, pulling you legs closer to him which made you yelp in surprise. You were entranced with how he handled you, finding the delicate balance between rough and gentle to be perfect. Coriolanus committed to memory every aspect of your body, from its curves to the way it responded to his touch.

"Gonna fuck you ‘till you forget your name," He groans as he aligns his cock with your entrance.

"Yeah?" You breathe.

"Mhm, gonna fuck you so good, you'll forget any other person who's ever had the privilege of touching you like this." He says before sinking himself into your body. You didn't realize you were holding your breath until you let out an exasperated sigh.

"Tell me how much you love it." He throws his head back, hips grinding smoothly against you like sweet molasses.

"So much," your words were barely coherent and his pace unforgiving. The sound of skin slapping filled the room, and filthy noises spilled out from both your throats.

"Tell me how bad you want it." His voice was no longer as rough as it was but instead had been replaced with neediness and whimpering.

"Till I can't walk." Your mind goes blank, and you are starting to babble.

"You look so cute going dumb on my dick." He coos, swooping his head down to place sloppy kisses. You squeeze your eyes shut from the sensitive sensations of his teeth on your collarbone.

"Faster," you whine, clawing your fingers on his back.

"If I go any faster, this loveseat is gonna break," he replied, and he was right. The furniture wasn't very sturdy.

"But, if we take this to my place, maybe I could." He flashes a boyish smile.

"In your dreams, mystery man." You roll your eyes at him.

"Mystery man?" He quirks a brow, pace starting to slow.

"Well, you never really told me your name." You moan out, sweat starting to bead on your skin at the slow dragging of his cock against your walls.

"I really thought you'd know me by this point, Y/n." His lips curved into a cheshire grin and you felt your heart stop. What did he just call you?

"How do you know my name?" Your mouth parts.

The man sighs before saying, "Y/n L/n, you’re from the districts but somehow managed to attend the Academy, you’re studying economics and you sit next to me first and fourth hour."

"How do you know all this– wait. Did you say we go to school together?" Dread set into you, and you quickly pulled the blonde haired man off of you.

There's no fucking way. You went to school with this guy? Fuck, fuck, fuck. You were screwed.

For a moment, everything was silent. Coriolanus's amused look faded. All there remained was worry etched onto his face. You stood there, face twisted into that of fear and concern of the unknown. Your hands gently came up, and your fingertips grazed the plastic of the mask.

"Who are you?" You asked for the dozenth time in an almost rhetorical way. What you really meant was who was this guy that you got yourself so tangled up with.

Coriolanus shuts his eyes as you took it off. The object clatters onto the floor, and your hand quickly clasps over your mouth.

"Coriolanus? You fucking Capitol brat!" You scream. "You need to fucking leave, I don't care how much you paid, leave." Within seconds a switch got flipped off in your brain and you knew nothing but anger.

"C'mon, darling. Don't be like that." He pleaded with a frown.

"Be like what? Angry? Upset? Enraged? Because I am! I am furious, Coriolanus. Who the hell do you think you are? I bet you already told all your little other egotistical jerk friends about this. How many people know? You know what, I don't even care. I can't fucking believe this right now, I just–" This time, he cuts you off and places his lips against yous like his life depended on it. He wanted you to feel everything he felt through that kiss.

You stood shocked and fought off the way your body wanted to melt into the kiss. You wanted to give in so bad, so so bad.

He pulled away and trailed down your jaw, and you let him. His lips felt so delicate and plush against your body, like they belonged there.

"I didn't tell anyone." He whispers gently, voice fragile and genuine.

"Find that hard to believe,"

"Y/n, please." He begged, and that's when you really looked into his eyes and read his face. He looked sincere and like he was about to break.

"I know you think I'm an asshole," he starts.

"I don't think, I know." You interrupt. He sucks his teeth as a response.

"But, I would never do something like that to you. When have I ever done something like that to anyone?" He reasons with you.

"I guess... You're right." You admit. He was right, he never had done something like that. Maybe you had unjustly judged him. Now that you thought about it, you had no valid reason to hate him.

"That still doesn't answer my main question. Why? Why did you buy my whole week? Why me if it wasn't to embarrass me?" You spoke.

"I don't know, I don't know why I did it at first. But now, I just can't imagine you with anyone else. The thought of you touching anyone else or letting anyone else touch you, I don't want that." He shakes his head, not noticing how his body tensed up.

"You like me?" You question.

"Well, I don't just have sex with anyone." He frowns, a tad bit hurt.

"Doubt that." You mutter.

"I'm serious." The expression on his face is stone cold, and you could tell that he wasn't lying. Yet, you couldn't wrap your head around it. He was the mystery man? The same guy that had you weak in the knees and red in the face? The same guy that irked you every second of the day that he saw you at school?

"I believe you." You sigh, letting your crossed arms loosen and fall to your side.

"Do you still want me?" He asks, eyes looking up at you with desperation.

"Look, I'm sorry for flipping out, but I can't do this, especially with you of all people. You're lucky there's no sharp objects around me. But, fucking you would just be embarrassing to my self-woth." You proclaimed before turning around to pick up your clothes.

"Are you sure?" He asks, his whole demeanor changing. You stood back up and when you did, you felt your back against his chest and your ass pressed up against his cock that was still covered in your wetness.

"Because I remember quite fondly how bad you said you wanted me and how good it felt when I was so deep in you." His playful behavior returned, and his teasing touch was making its mark on your skin again.

"Whatever you're trying to do, it’s not gonna work." You defected, voice betraying you.

"Really?" He implored. "You don't want me anymore?"

You didn't respond, knowing that if you did, you wouldn't be able to lie. Not when he looked at you with those eyes.

"You're saying you don't wanna feel me in you again, fucking you over and over again?

You whimper in response, forgetting how to form sentences as you mind went in a haze of lust.

"Asked you a question, darling." He pressed on, giving a sharp and sudden nip to your ear with his teeth. He doesn't move, giving you some time to think.

"If we do this," You begin. "What will happen after?"

"Whatever you want." Coriolanus spoke with want and desire.

"You mean that?" You ask sternly to make sure.

"I really do." he says before kissing you once again, a form of reassurance. He couldn't ever get enough of you.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you’re in love with me." You spoke, clearly feeling the emotion he wanted the kiss to convey.

"Well, do you?"

"Do I what?" You ask confused.

"Know better." He restates.

"Coriolanus Snow, are you in love with me?" You gasp, holding a soft grasp on his shoulders.

"You have no idea..." He whispers lowly, anguish evident in his tone.

"Fine, we can do this. But I'm in charge, okay?" You clarify.

"Whatever you want, Darling." He spreads his legs for you and leans back. You get up and align yourself with his body once again before slowly sinking down onto him, hissing at the sensation.

Curses fall from his mouth, and gratification flows through him like tidal waves. He trembles underneath you, and each time you bounce back down on his thighs, it feels better than the last. He senses his mind on the verge of collapse every time, and he starts to short circuit. Pleasure has never been so satisfying as it rakes through both your bodies as you allow each other to be safely vulnerable.

♡

It's been two days since the incident and since you and Coriolanus both talked to each other. You said you needed some time to think after Coriolanus asked you if you wanted to formally court him. You weighed the pros and cons and how you wouldn't need to work at the club anymore.

"Hey, you coming to class?" The text on your phone read.

"Yes." You replied back to him. You made up your mind on your decision and plan to convey it to him in person when you meet face to face.

You walk into class and immediately notice how anxious the ivory haired man looked. His knee was bouncing, and his hand kept raking through his hair.

"Hey," You unintentionally startle him.

"Oh! Hi." He shoots you his classic Coriolanus Snow smile, charismatic and charming as ever. "You look gorgeous."

"I just got out of bed." You laugh at his attempt at flattery.

"I still think you're pretty."

"Well, thank you, Coryo." You smile before pulling out your chair and sitting down next to him. “You look pretty, too”

You catch the way his cheeks flush, but you don't mention it.

"Have you thought about what I said?" He asks, playing with the ring on his hand in anticipation, a habit he picked up since childhood.

“I have. Coriolanus, I think you're a pretty decent guy and all." You start off your sentence.

"You don't feel the same way?" He presses his lips into a line.

"Yeah." You sigh sympathetically, noticing how he didn’t catch the inauthenticity in your tone.

"It's fine, I understand." Coriolanus gave an understanding look, no matter how disappointed he actually was. What he didn't expect was the sudden laughter that followed after.

"I'm kidding! Yes, I'll be your girlfriend!" You throw your arms around his neck and give a quick kiss to his cheek.

"You're so cruel to me." He furrows his brows, "But worth it." He smiles back at you, engulfing you into his embrace.

[wihinaphe-makhoche]

5/28 thoughts: why i hate transandentalism

today's ruminations about land access and landback.

i've been listening to this really amazing podcast episode by redefining conservation, part of the the sierra club maine.

part of my work around land access (and landback) is centered around the "re-story-iation" of land, a term coined by botanist robin wall kimmerer. i've been really focused on peeling back the layers of colonialism and how much our relationship to land permeates every aspect of our lives.

as a storyteller, artist, and lover of english classes (especially through high school), its difficult for me not to bring back my thoughts to artistic and writing movements. transandentalism, for those not in the know, was an american literary, philosophical, spiritual, and artistic movement in the 1820s and 1830s. it tended to be especially focused on new england. one of the biggest influences in the movement was henry david thoreau, known for his trip to walden pond in massachusetts, as well as his experiences in the maine woods near mt. katahdin.

while i've often understood it well, being raised unitarian universalist, i've found myself questioning and resenting the movement. something about it has never sat right with me.

both nyalat and lokotah highlight excellent points that have been needling at me for over a decade-- much as today's instagram and tiktok influencers sell the aesthetic of "off the grid" and more "natural" lifestyles, so too did transandentalists preach a lifestyle in seeing the divinity in the natural world. i think its understandable to seek to return to one's perceived roots as industrialization continues to whittle away at one's sanity. but we must ask ourselves who can afford to step away-- it is much easier for the wealthy to seek aesthetic resource extraction when the cities and towns become to "dirty" or "impoverished" for their liking. the natural world to them was-- perhaps is-- "empty" now that the indigenous people had been driven onto reservations, cities, or forcibly disconnected. but whose land are they stepping into? who are they driving out in their search for divinity in the natural world? what privilege does this speak of?

today, accessing a place like acadia national park for a week is $35; not much for some, but as the cost of living continues to hike and wages continue to stagnate, this may still be "too much" for a lot of people, especially those who have been historically financially and socially marginalized. as i wait for my paycheck and college funds to come in (which keep me afloat) and watch my bank account drain (and thus ask myself if i'll be able to afford rent, my car payment, and every other bill), this becomes more poignant. who can afford to experience the natural world? do they realize how much national parks are selling an aesthetic resource, that this is a sculpted landscape?

in a conversation with my mentor earlier today, i expressed the feeling of having land access denied as an elder being stolen. to indigenous people, our relations are not just other humans, but the land and all its inhabitants. as robin wall kimmerer puts it in her book braiding sweetgrass, humans are the younger brothers of all else. the trees, plants, and animals are our older brothers and sisters, our elders, our teachers. in my journey towards reconnection, i've found that returning to culture is in community as much as it is in reconnecting with land. turtle island is and always will be my home. in not being able to access these places, we are not able to connect and speak with our elders.

im glad that people can learn to value the natural world. but i think its worth examining who is able to access it--are they wealthy? white? who lived there before, what was the purpose of the place? what are their concepts of land ownership? who are they preventing access from?

more thoughts later. but what i've been ruminating on today.

what my thoughts have been guided by today:

the "redefining conservation" podcast

braiding sweetgrass

conservation's role in indigenous land-taking

[glame]

Privilege pt.1

A/N : i just wanted to write something about toxic!rafe. im such a whore for angst. and for Rafe angst? you name it. it is long. so im gonna publish it as parts. i hope you like it. its a bit long i know but its not done yet.

TW : ANGST. cursing, drugs.

''Mrs. Country Club! its a pleasure to having you here.'' Barry shouted as he saw you.

you were looking for Rafe for the last hour. he was supposed to be with you. at the Country Club. for your 'after dinner coctail'. and guesss what everyone, he didnt show up. so here you are at the Cut in your denim skirt and a white corse top with white Converse's and hundreds of golden accesories on you.

''is he here?'' you asked with an angry face and a tone. you were angry. he started doing this shit since beginning of this summer.

''he blacked out. what the hell are you doing to this boy?'' he laughed.

''when did he get here?''

''i dont know. like… it was 4 or 5 i think.'' Barry sipped from his beer.

''you cant be serious. its 9!''

''it is?'' it surprised him.

''where the hell is he, Barry?''

''there.'' he pointed. ''he was talking abot something fancy. you Kooks like fancy shits.''

you ignored him and headed to Rafe. he was laying on the couch. white powder around his nose. sweat. he really blacked out. you didnt say anything. as the time Barry sat down on the other couch.

''how much do you want to stop selling this shit to him?'' you suddenly asked.

he started laughing. ''what are you talking about princess?''

''you heard me. i wont repeat myself.''

''nah, girl. i wont do that.'' he was lighting a joint.

''im offering you money. what is it you wont do? you will do

everything for money.'' you looked at him.

''you give me money once then we are done. but Country Club? he gives me money every day, princess.'' he laughed. ''and you think he will be okay with this? he will come to me with more money just for this shit.''

it made you angry. clearly. ''good night Barry.'' you left his house. you left Rafe. tears all over your face.

when you got home your dad stopped you. ''you're early, moya lyubov.'' he was drinking whiskey.

''yeah. its just… i… i-i dont wanna talk about it.'' you knew, youre gonna cry if you talk. and for you Russian dad nothing can make you cry. he would kill Rafe. if only he knew.

''okay. want some popcorn and wine?'' thats your bad mood recipe. popcorn and wine.

''please.'' you crawled to the couch while he was in the kitchen.

''what are your plans for tomorrow darling?'' you could hear the corns popping.

''no plans. what about you?'' choosing what to watch.

''no plans either. what about Tennis or Golf?'' he was trying to hype you. but if you gonna go Golf that means you gonna see Rafe. and you dont wanna see him.

''Tennis sounds nice. we can make it work.'' you choose one of the stupid reality shows. and he sat down next to you.

''i love you so much. i would do anything for you. i just want you to be happy.'' he kissed your cheeks. ''youre my everything. you mean the world to me.'' he hugged you. ''my baby.''

since your mother left you you grew up with nanas and your two doberman dogs. but your dad was so good for you to feel the emptyness of not having a mother. Figure 8 was so good for you. a summer place. wealthy families, big grass fields, houses with big gardens, sea, children. since youve known yourself youre living in this heaven. and since youve known yourself your dad always telling 'i dont have anything but you. youre my world. my everything. youre the only person i love. youre my baby. i would do anything for my baby.' you havent understood. you know youre wealthy, you have bodyguards, you have nanas, cars but your dad was saying i dont have anything. as you grow up you understand what he has been saying.

you felt the phone vibrating in your pocket. you took a look what was it. it was Rafe. 'im sorry baby. i know i fucked up. ill make that up. ok? i love you so fucking much. plz answer me when you see this. i promise ill make that up' you ignored his texts. always same words. same texts. same things. nothing changes.

….

''okay baby. give me your hand.'' he was holding your hand. and leading you.

''Rafe, where are we going?'' you didnt know where you were going. but it must have been something with his 'make up'. he took you from home. after your dad and your Tennis day.

''we are here.'' he opened your eyes.

a scene. two big pillows and a bottle of wine. with cotton candies. you like this activity. he knows. every week you go to open air cinema. but this week you have some big problems like him not showing up. so you looked at him.

''its Ocean's.'' he showed you the pizza box. ''and we have four-cheese too.'' he was giving you puppy eyes.

you smiled. ''dont make me cry ever again.'' his smile dropped. ''never baby, never.'' he kissed you.

you spent all night watching Ocean's. yeah. 11, 12, 13, 8. four of them.

''i love you. i love you so fucking much. you cant even imagine. but i fuck up. youre the only one who knows me. i cant manage things sometimes. i dont want to make you sad. i would never want that. and i would never mean to do that. im trying. im trying for something. i dont know if i can do it or cant. but i really am trying.'' he burried his head to your neck.

''i know baby. but somethings makes me sad. i know youre trying. and i believe you can do it. keep trying okay? you can do anything.'' your hands in his hair. ''but dont let me down. okay? i dont want that?''

''no. no, never. trust me?'' he raised his head and looked at you.

''in Rafe i trust.'' you smiled and he started to laugh his breathes were hitting to your neck.

when the movie marathon over he started to talk. something when you two stay together and he was about to sleep. ''Sarah's driving me crazy. i cant stand her. she is so dramatic. im living with the bitch.''

''dont call your sister bitch. she is not a bitch.''

''thats why im saying 'im living with her.' she is always the favorite one. and me? im the troublemaker. everythings because of me. but its not. and Wheez. i dont understand she is 13. how can you be 13? she cant drink or i dont know. it must be hard for her.'' he breathed. ''Rose is something different. she is okay but i dont know. she cares about us actually. espically dad. dad is complicated. i dont know what he wants or what he works about. he hides it from me. but from Sarah? he even called her for help. im sick of this. Top and Kelce are okay but theyre not you. i love you. its just you. you listen to me, talk to me, you love me too. you make me feel this shit. youre the only real thing. i love you baby.''

thats how you two. thats your relationship. when you were kids he always held your hand. and at the age of 7 he kissed you. but it never happened again. until you were 16. you were always close. like super close. he never allowed to any boy to hurt you, any girl to fight with you. nothing can brake your heart. he was always there for you. but not a love thing until the age of 16. he kissed you again at the park. where he kissed you first. he broke up with his one-week-girlfriend. because of you. and you kissed him back. at the age of 17 you made it official official. going parties together, pda, gifts, dinners, night walks. youre the it couple of OBX. and how toxic you are you love each other.

''i love you too Rafe.''

[opalimagines]

Request: Another Sylvester request lol 40 and 60 with him. We’ve established that he grew up rich but you didn’t. Maybe you grew up much less wealthy on a farm or your fam owned a business/restaurant but you mention it one day without thinking. He wants to know more about you. So you bring him around to where you grew up and you teach him about what you had to do each day. So he learns because he wants to be closer to you. Okay that was a lot you can skip some parts if you like I just thought rich boi Sly learning how to milk a cow or work as a line cook but being so bad at it while you watch him with heart eyes would be funny.

Requested by anonymous

Reader: Neutral

40. Voluntarily doing their chores.

60. Letting them see the sides of you that you're too nervous to show others, and mostly without realizing you've done it.

The last thing you expected Sylvester to do after meeting your parents and hearing about your childhood was ask to learn more about how you grew up. You never mentioned your family's farm to him before, and unlike anyone else he'd been with in the past, he truly wanted to be able to understand you better. Your parents liked him well enough, as well as finding the thought of someone who grew up so privileged working on a farm to be funny, so they accepted easily.

Sylvester hadn't been completely aware of what he was getting himself into, because he didn't actually know what all went into running a farm. When the two of you finally arrived at your childhood home, you put him right to work. "You said you wanted to learn about my childhood, so let's go," you explained as you led him outside.

That first day, you walked Sylvester through everything you used to do on any given day. Things like collecting eggs from the chickens, caring for the goats and pigs, milking the cows, and other general maintenance around the farm. He quickly realized that he was in over his head, but to your surprise, he didn't throw in the towel. Sylvester said he wanted to learn about your life and he meant it.

Still, he was relieved at the end of the day when he was able to wash the sweat and dirt from his skin before everyone gathered for supper.

On the third day, Sylvester insisted on doing all of your old chores himself, and you didn't argue. You merely observed amused as he fumbled through tasks that you could do with your eyes closed. In particular, you had enjoyed watching him move hay bales in the barn, and you had to resist pulling him away for some fun.

As Sylvester tried milking one of the cows on his own, you leaned against the nearest surface and smiled while you watched. Even though he wasn't exactly a professional at any of this, seeing how he tried for you made your heart flutter. It made you love him even more than you already did.

"Damn," he cursed under his breath. You had already taught him this, but it seemed much harder doing it on his own.

Hearing this, you walked over to him. "Need a hand?"

As much as he wanted to see this through, he didn't want to risk hurting one of your family's animals by accident. "Yeah."

You nudged his shoulder so he would get off of the seat, then you sat in his place and took over from him effortlessly. "You know, you don't have to keep doing this. We can head back home to Civic City."

"We could, but honestly...I like it here."

His admission made you stop everything you were doing. "What?"

"It probably doesn't make sense, but-" Sylvester kneeled down next to you. "When I was a kid, my days were spent in classes with tutors and at whatever events my parents dragged me to when they remembered that I existed. I didn't do anything productive like this, and I sure as hell didn't get to have family dinners or spend time with my parents at the end of the day."

The differences between your upbringings were obvious, but you hadn't thought of it that way. Working on a farm could be hard, yet it wasn't all that lonely because your parents had always been there, and you got to see the fruits of your labor every day. Sylvester never had that kind of love from his parents, nor any real meaning to his life until he met Pat and became the Star-Spangled Kid.

"It makes complete sense," you finally said with a warm smile. "I'm sure my parents won't mind if we visit more often."

After that trip, he took you up on the offer, because even though it wasn't the cushy life he was used to, he liked being a part of your family.

[hatsukeii]

𝐋𝐞𝐦𝐨����𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫

𝐏𝐭. 𝟏- 𝐋𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟓𝐤

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

He was a Tsukishima.

The family of successful people.

Scholars, athletes, politicians, the list goes on.

In the Tsukishima family line, academics were essential. Skills were essential. Talent was essential. Foolishness was not tolerated. Weakness was not tolerated. Clumsiness was not tolerated. Everyone was expected to be at tip top shape at all times, both physically and mentally. Manners were a must. Manners make a man, or so do the elders constantly remind. Gold medals were expected to be seen after competitions. Anything below that was worthless. The Tsukishimas were raised to be in a higher class than others. They mingled with the wealthy, frowned upon the powerless and poor. Mental health was the least of the family’s worries. They had money, they had a reputation, they had a talented bloodline, what was there to worry about anyways?

His full name was Tsukishima Kei, and he was the outcast.

His mother averted her eyes from his direction as he treaded down the flight of stairs to the dining area. She’s always done this. The moment Kei was diagnosed with farsightedness, the Tsukishima family knew he was no good. An omen, they said. With those weird, clunky glasses, the family constantly made passive aggressive comments regarding his sight. You thought he would be safe from his parents? Oh no, you would be wrong. Akiteru was hugely favoured over Kei. He was handsome, tall, well built, smart, he had a bright future ahead of him. Kei? He was scrawny, had sight problems, felt inferior to everybody else. The family had deemed him no good as a child, that wasn’t going to change because of puberty.

He sat at the table quietly, munching on his toast. As usual, his mother was preparing breakfast for Akiteru. As the older sibling jogged down the stairs, he was met with a welcoming smile, along with a bowl of steaming hot ramen. “Good morning son! Come over and have some food won’t you?” Hearing his cue to leave, Kei grabbed his bag, wiped the crumbs off his mouth, and headed out the door, but not before giving his older brother a tiny wave, in which he returned with a small grin and a peace sign. Perhaps Akiteru was the one person that didn’t treat him like shit. Maybe it was because if he did, Kei would tell everyone how he lied about being the ace of Karasuno. Although his kindness was fuelled by a shallow reason as so, it felt nice being treated well once in a while, even if it wasn’t truly genuine.

“Tsukki! Tsukki! Wait up!” Yamaguchi yelled from behind him as he jogged towards the blond. “Morning Tsukki!” The two stood in silence, waiting for the next train to arrive. This routine had been going on for years. Every morning Yamaguchi would meet up with Tsukishima at the train station, then they would head off together. Yamaguchi was one more thing the Tsukishimas frowned upon. When Kei beamed about how he defended the poor boy who was being bullied, instead of praises he received criticism. Bucketloads of criticism from everyone in his family. What was supposed to be an honourable act of kindness towards the less fortunate became the butt of a joke for the family to berate endlessly. To them, Yamaguchi was the perfect example of the weak. The weak were not tolerated. Tsukishimas were raised to frown upon them. They were higher than others. They minded their own business and had a reputation to keep. The world saw them as elegant, graceful, and privileged. They didn’t see them as charitable, soft, or weak. However, Kei paid no mind to his family’s stupid, cold hearted, absolutely fucking ridiculous “ideals”. He was an outcast, would forever be an outcast, might as well live on his own terms if his family couldn’t accept him.

“So, what’d you get on the test? I only managed to score a B-, it was so hard wasn’t it?” He stared at his paper, a huge A written and circled at the top of it. “I mean I think I did-”

“Really good? It’s not an A+. You couldn’t get it perfect so try harder next time. This isn’t good enough.”

His mouth hung open as he stopped abruptly at his words. Oh of course, how could he have forgotten? The constant criticism he received was not only from his family, but from himself as well. His grades were the only valuable thing about him, but it was never good enough. He was top of the class, but never the top of the school. Never the best player on the court. Never the best friend. “Eh, not that great. I should’ve done better considering I spent all day studying for the past week. I got the same score last time too, I doubt it’ll get any better than this.” Scrunching his nose, Yamaguchi leaned in, taking a peek of Tsukishima’s test. “Tsukki, you did so good! Ah, but it’s expected from you, always so harsh on yourself! Chill out a little bit, you’ve got the best grades in our class already! You saying that just makes me sound stupid in your eyes...” Realising the impact his words had on his friend, he stuttered, thinking of something to say. “No, I promise Yamaguchi, you’re not stupid. If you were I wouldn’t have let you befriend me. Please don’t look down upon yourself like that, it’s not good.”

Slinking down the hall, Tsukishima manoeuvred around the sea of students trying to get out of the school, mumbling to himself under his breath. The constant shuffling of feet and people pushing him around were enough to make his head spin and his heart race so much so that he had to stop in the middle of the hall, grabbing his head in an attempt to stop the pulsing. “Move it bro, what the fuck?” Stop. “Dude, don’t just stand there, get out of the way blockhead!” Please, stop. Stumbling his way down the hall, his steps were uneven as his sight became hazy. Cold sweat slid down from his forehead, his chest heaving and his breaths ragged. He needed help. He needed help now, but there was no one. Everyone was too occupied trying to get out of the school. Usually Yamaguchi would be with him but he had art club and stayed behind. Panic attacks were nothing new to him. He would experience them randomly. Everything around him would become everything he feared. Death, disappointment, loss, burden. Yet there was not a single time he was able to calm himself down. He would make someone else worry about him all over again. Maybe he was a burden to people, but he didn’t care anymore. His family hated him enough for his flaws anyways, what’s a few extra people hating him gonna do anyways? He was seeing spots now, staggering down the stairs that he finally reached, when something- or rather someone, walked right into him.

“Hey, please watch where you’re- holy shit... are you okay? I’ll bring you to the nurse hold on-”

“N..no.”

“What?”

“Panic...attack...”

Your eyes widened like saucers as the situation dawned upon you.

“Oh... OH um uh I-”

Cmon stupid, think!

Grabbing his arm, you dragged him into a random classroom, almost tripping over air from him stumbling and his height. Shutting the door behind you, Tsukishima collapsed onto the cold floor, trembling as his eyes darted. You were panicking with him. Hell, you didn’t know how to deal with panic attacks. Pulling out your phone, your fingers tapped furiously as you tried to figure out how you could calm him down. “Mmmm cmon cmon something please...” The sobbing in the background did not help your panic at all. In fact, it made you even more anxious. You couldn’t just leave him here, you had to do something. Anything.

“I- uh, do you need anything? Water? A towel? Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay...stay here..”

Shuffling to his side, you waved your arms around him, trying to figure out what to do next, finally awkwardly settling one of your hands on his back. Giving him occasional pats, your read the instructions on healthline for what to do if someone was going through a panic attack. The next part was to give reassurance.

“I’ll stay here until you’re okay, so don’t worry. Are you feeling any better now?”

Feeling Tsukishima shift, you retracted your hand, putting it on your leg instead. His breathing had finally gone back to normal and he wasn’t shaking anymore. Pushing his glasses back up properly, he grabbed his bag from the floor, pulling the strap over his shoulder.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll be heading out now.”

“Wait!”

He stopped in his tracks, but not sparing even a glance behind him.

“What’s your name?”

“You don’t have to know.”

He left without another word.

Because that’s what Tsukishimas do.

They walk away from others and hold their shit together by themselves.

Tags:

@sunshines-and-tatertots @izzyphantomgamer @tiger1719 @tiredgr3mlin @trashcanweeb @itmekisuu @fandomwriter73 @random-fandomlover @samanthaa-leanne @sneezefiction @bokutokoutarou @skyeackermans @writeiolite @kuroo-thought-of-a-better-un @ewfilthymundane @mariechan123 @saturnmoon @macaronnv @talks-a-lot-of-stuff @artsamber @kaylacinderella @agentvicinity @sakusasgarbage @tchalameme

[august-diehl]

I Know What’s Best - Part 1

A/N: This is my first attempt of writing Dark!Steve, tell me what you think about it, I love feedback. :)

Summary: Being the only daughter of wealthy politicians, your life reeks of privilege. You would do anything to make your parents happy, and then you meet Captain America, how much is your life gonna change?

Dark!Steve Rogers x Innocent!Reader

Warnings: Extreme manipulation, stalking, dub con (non con) in next chapters.

Tags: @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​.

I Know What’s Best Masterlist.

Main Masterlist.

This is your second year of college in NYU, you want to become a lawyer just like your parents, your whole you wanted to make them proud, and you have. Your parents are politicians, successful ones too, your mother was one of politicians that installed The Reproductive Health Act, she is an avid pro-choice woman, and your father is running for mayor of New York, and the polls are saying that he has great chance of winning. One of his biggest supporters is your brother, Ian. He is thirty-six years old and his lovely wife is seven months pregnant with their first son, and you couldn’t be happier for them and to be an aunt.

Your parents insisted that you didn't have a room in NYU, since they live so close to the university, and you agreed, it didn't make sense to spend money on a room when you were blessed enough to have your parents to guide you in this turbulent time that was college, your grades were near perfection, your relationship with your family was great, your sister-in-law, Kaia was a great friend to you, her parents moved from Norway when she was still a baby. You’ve been in her home country a few times, it was gorgeous, especially in the winter.

To be completely honest, you were quite introverted, you didn't had many friends since boarding school, you knew a few people in your classes, but you never interacted with them outside of classes, sometimes you felt lonely, but Kaia was always inviting you to buy things for the baby, so you weren’t as lonely, Kaia was your best friend, you told her everything. One boy in your class asked you on a date, but after discussing with Kaia, you refused. You were sad because of that, but Kaia said that he might be one of those frat boys that just wanted to take advantage of your sweet nature, that made you feel better, after all, your family always knows what’s best for you.

You never had a boyfriend before, your parents always encouraged you to find a nice boy from a good family, but honestly, you never felt so strongly about a boy to the point of open yourself up to someone that wasn’t your family, it felt wrong in your eyes. It always has been difficult for you to have friends, especially having a romantic relationship. Kaia was Ian’s first and only girlfriend, he met her in high school, you were just a child the first time you met Kaia.

Now it was summer, you were on a break from college. You were going with your parents to a lot of galas, meeting new people, other politicians that work with your mother and possible allies for your father’s campaign. It was mostly older men and women, no one even close to your age, the youngest ones were around Ian’s age. To be fair you didn't want to go to those tedious events, but your parents needed you, and your support, and you would do anything for them.

You and your parents were in the limousine, Ian and Kaia had to leave earlier because she wasn’t feeling very well. You were tired, the light pink dress that your mother choose for you was making you a bit uncomfortable, and being in high heels for hours, didn't help your situation. 

“It was a great event, I was able to get many supporters for my campaign. Did you enjoyed yourself, Y/N?” Your father cut the silence, he was now taking off his bow tie, your father had a real distaste for them.

“It was a great event, as you said. The food was incredible, father” Truth was that you hated those events, the galas, the dinners, and the people as well. But you did it for your family, they needed you, and you would rather die than disappoint them first.

“Tomorrow we don’t have any event to attend to, what do you think about you, me and Kaia to go out to buy some clothes for you, Martha reminded me that your clothes are getting quite old, we can pick new ones for you.” Your mother took a strand of your hair and put behind your ear, she was smiling sweetly at you.

“Yes, that’d be incredible, Mother.” You smiled back at her.

“It would be a perfect way for you ladies to spend the day, me and Ian have many things to discuss tomorrow.” Your father smiled and gave his credit card to your mother, and she gently put it in her tiny purse.

“I almost forgot to give your medicine, dear.” Your handed a small piece of cloth and a bottle of water that was on the limousine compartment, you have a very rare and genetic disease, your body doesn’t produce certain hormones, so you have to take the supplements that have those hormones that your body doesn’t produce, but other than that, you are completely healthy.

“Thank you, mother.” Another reason why your parents insisted of having you at home while you go to college, you often forget to take your pills, so your mother zealously reminds you, and she makes sure that you take it every single day at the same time, she even keeps the bottle in your parents’ room. 

“Of course, dear.” Your mother kissed your forehead, you don’t remember much of the ride back home since sleep came with full force.

************************

You woke up with the sun hitting your face, you looked at the watch and it was 7:30 AM, you looked at your body and you had your pj’s on, your mother must’ve changed you when you fell asleep. You remembered that you would spend the whole day with Kaia and your mother, you came down from your bedroom and went to the kitchen. The house was silent, your parents were still probably asleep, you liked the early mornings, it was always quite peaceful. The smell of pancakes hit your senses when you were on the stairs, you smiled to yourself, Pierre was already making breakfast. You entered the kitchen and it was, the small and happy frenchman, preparing breakfast for your family.

“Good morning, Pierre.” The chef turned around and gave you a smile, the man was on his forties, and cooking was his greatest passion. 

“Miss Y/N, breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes, why don’t you sit and wait for it?” He gestured at the table.

“Thank you, but I’ll take a shower first.” You went back to your bedroom, you took a cold shower since it was already starting to get hot, you put on a summer dress that your mother bought for you, it was a light shade of yellow. You thought that the dress was lovely, and so did your mother.

You started reading one of the books that it was required for you to read for one of your classes, you looked at the watch again and twenty minutes has passed, you went back to the kitchen, your father was already sitting down, reading the news on his iPad. You went to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning, father. How did you sleep?” You sat down on the left side of the table, you put the napkin on your lap, and one of the maids was bringing all the things for breakfast.

“Very well, Ian and Kaia will be here in a few minutes. And your mother is getting ready to out with you and Kaia, I’m sure you’re gonna have a lot of fun together.” He smiled and you smiled back, you wished that you could spend as much time with your father as Ian does, you love your mother, but most of the times, you miss spending more time with him. You heard the elevator open and Ian and a heavily pregnant Kaia came through the doors. 

“Hello, father, sister.” Ian gave you a kiss on the cheek, and helped Kaia sit down next to you on the table, she sat down next to you.

The breakfast was delicious, the conversation was nice, Ian and your father were discussing things about his campaign. Kaia was asking you what things you wanted to buy, and she told you that the baby was kicking her a lot, everything was ready for the baby to come, the only thing that Kaia and Ian haven’t figured it out yet, was his name. He was going to be born in the same hospital that you and Ian were born. 

“You’re still having difficulties to find a name, Ian?” Your mother asked, and Ian signed.

“Yes, we are trying. But there’s not a good name that caught our attention yet, we still have a few weeks.” Ian laughed, and looked at Kaia, who was laughing as well.

“Well, we must go now because is gonna get late.” Your mother looked at her watch and you and Kaia agreed, leaving your father and Ian. Your mother kissed your father and Kaia kissed your brother.

*********************************

After shopping for most of the day, your mother suggested that you stopped to have a late lunch. After all of you were satisfied with the restaurant, you entered, despite the time, it was quite busy. The hostess took you to a table in front of the window, the view was really nice.

“May I be excused? I need to use the restroom.” Both Kaia and your mother nodded, and quickly went back to their conversation.

You entered the bathroom, not realizing that you were being watched. After you finished peeing, you left the stall, only to be scared by a man looking at you, curiously.

“I didn't mean to scare you.” He declared, after seeing you jump.

“It’s quite alright, but this is the ladies restroom, sir.” The man took a hard deep breath, you had no idea the effect that calling him ‘sir’ had on the man.

“I know, I was after you, I saw you entering the restaurant, you are a gorgeous woman.” He came even closer to you, he was towering over your frame, you quickly looked at his deep blue eyes, but their intensity made you look away, he seemed familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it from where.

“Do we know each other, sir?” He put his hand on your chin, and made you look at him.

“No, but we will, doll.” He placed his nose on your neck and took a deep breath, your lips parted, no one has ever done that to you before, but you couldn’t deny the tingles all over your body. “You will be mine, Y/N.” He whispered in your ear, with a low voice, goosebumps erupted all over your skin. 

And the blonde and strange man left you in the restroom, what could he possibly mean with being his? You laughed, maybe he was just being silly, maybe he knows Ian and decided to pull a prank on his little sister, you decided. Maybe that’s the reason he looks so familiar, you went back to the table, after washing your hands, but you couldn’t see the man anywhere. It was definitely a prank, you laughed to yourself.

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Summer Love: Chapter One

A/N: I’m pretty sure I just woke up this morning with this idea of ‘what if I did a high school AU Gerard x Reader at an artsy summer camp?’ so yeah, here you go. Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader (High school AU) Word count: 2687

After a long and harsh school year you were finally able to go and experience your favorite part of summer: sleep away camp.

Having just wrapped up your sophomore year filled with honors and AP classes amongst electives and extracurriculars which were all art, you were ready as ever to get a break from the hectic schedule of school. And sleep away camp meant just that.  

Camp Peterson was one of the elite camps in Jersey. It specialized in students who excelled in art, and helped them expand their skills greatly. This was perfect for you with your love of painting and sketching.

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Mel?” You asked, whipping around despite the bags you were holding. There was your purple haired, nose pierces, best sleep away camp friend who you had known since sixth grade. She squealed, running up to you and giving you an anxious hug.

“Ugh, I missed you!” She smiled.

“I missed you too.” You hugged back.

“Damn,” She said, looking you up and down and pulling away, “You glew up.” “I did?” You asked. Sure, you had lost a few pounds, and cut and dyed your hair (bleached it just because), but you didn’t think it was a whole glow up situation.

“Are you kidding? I could barely recognize you!” You smiled.

“Thanks.” You said. She helped your carry your bags to cabin 17, the one you had been staying in for all your years. Setting your bags down on your side of the room by your twin bed, you looked around. It hadn’t changed a bit.

Because you and she were frequent campers who came every year the dean let you two keep your cabin and decorate it, promising that after your senior year you would come back and take it all down.

“C’mon, let’s go see the boys.” Mel said, looking at you.

“But I haven’t put my stuff away-” “So, we have another like hour to do that.” You sighed, going along with her to Cabin 18, your next door neighbors. You two ran up the small wooden steps and knocked on the door. Immediately, Mikey answered.

“Y/N? Mel?” He asked, looking at you two, “It’s been so long!” He smiled, giving you each a hug.

“Hey Mikes.” Mel said, “How are you?” “A lot better now that my best friends are here.” “Hey! I though I was your best friend!” You heard Frank walk up to the door, “Oh, hey fuckers.” He smiled at you two.

“Shut up Frank.” Mel fired back, “You’re a bitch.” “Well you’re a whore.” He said, looking at you right after, “Seems like nothing has changed.” But then he looked at you, “Oh, wait, Y/N got hot.” You lightly blushed. “But you’re still so shy and innocent. We’ll fix that, don’t you worry.” The boys let you into their cabin where you each sat down on a bean bag. There room was filled with posters of bands like The Smashing Pumpkins and The Misfits, and included Mikey’s old CD player which you guys would use almost every night.

“Nothing’s changed around here, huh?” You asked.

“You ask that every year and the answer is always no.” Frank responded. You shrugged. “Wait, actually something has changed.” He looked to Mikey to continue. Both you and Mel furrowed your brows.

“Oh yeah, my brother Gerard?” You both nodded knowing Mikey had talked about him before, “He’s here this year. He sobered up and so Mom let him come.” “Oh, cool.” Mel said.

“He’s in Ray’s cabin.” Frank added.

“I thought Bob was in Ray’s cabin?” “He couldn’t come this year.” Mikey explained, “Some sort of family vacation.” “For six weeks?” “Dunno,” Mikey concluded, “That’s what he told me.”

“We should probably go check on them.” Frank added. You all nodded.

The four of you walked out of the cabin and to number 9, Ray’s and now Gerard’s. Frank knocked on the door, no answer. He knocked again, this time harder. “Just a minute!” You heard Ray yell before coming a few seconds later and greeting you all with a smile.

“If you two were fucking in there already-” Frank said and Ray rolled his eyes.

“Grow up.” He told Frank, letting you guys in. You noticed a black haired boy sitting on one of the beds, what looked to be a comic book in hand. He was focused on the pages, while you were focused on his ruffled hair and strong jawline that shaped into a U. His hair went right above his shoulder, ruffled all over the place.

“Hey, Gee.” You heard Mikey greet. So this was Gerard.

“Oh, hey.” He smiled, looking up.

“These are the people we hang out with.” Ray began, going down the line, “Frank, Melanie, or Mel, and Y/N, or Y/N/N.” You nodded and smiled as he looked over all of you. You noticed how his hazel eyes grazed over you a little longer, or maybe you were just hallucinating.

“Wait, Y/N/N.” Ray took your out of your trance.

“Hm?” You asked, looking up at him. “You got-” He couldn’t find the right word.

“Hot?” Frank finished, “Yeah, we all know.” Ray rolled his eyes.

“That wasn’t exactly the word but you look more mature.” Ray concluded.

“Thanks.” You said, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Also you’re hair, it looks awesome.”

“Thanks.” You replied to that too.

“Hi, I’m Gerard.” He reached his hand out which you shook, “But you can call me Gee.” “I’m Y/N,” You smiled, “But you can call me Y/N/N.”

He went around and introduced himself before Mel and you headed back to put your stuff away. You placed all your clothes neatly into the drawers, hanging up some of your Christmas lights around the room. Right as you were finishing up and putting your duffel bag under your bed, you heard a knock at the door before Frank came barging in and ran to your freshly made bed, crashing on it. “Really?” You asked. “I just made that.” “So?” He asked, “I’m just making it more comfy.” “Sure you are.” The other three came in too, Mikey sitting on the edge of Mel’s bed and the Ray sitting on one of the beanbags. You noticed Gerard looking at your filled bookshelf, which was a mixture of classics and comic books. Everyone began talking but you decided to go and greet him.

“Hey, Gee.” You smiled and stood next to him, he looked up at you and smiled.

“Hey, Y/N/N.” He replied.

“What’re you looking at?” You lightly laughed, knowing he was obviously looking at your books.

“The amount of books you have.” He said, “And comics too.” “I do have quite the collection.” He smiled at you.

“You have Watchmen?” He looked at your complete collection on the top shelf. You nodded.

“Yeah, I do.” You said, “You seem surprised.” “No it’s just I um, I-” “You wouldn’t think a girl would read Watchmen?” “Well um,” He said, “I mean, yeah um- that makes me sound like a sexist asshole.” “No, it’s alright.” You assured him. “I don’t know that many girls who read it either.”

“It’s my favorite series. Alan Moore is just so good.” “It is a really good series,” You smiled. “I’ve always preferred V for Vendetta, by him at least. But I have a real soft spot for Black Widow comics.” He nodded. “She’s just a badass, ya know?” “She is.” He smiled.

“Awwww, look at you two.” You heard Frank. Both of you looked back to see everyone in the room smirking and looking at you guys. “If that isn’t love then I don’t know what is.” “Oh, shut up Iero.” You snapped. You wouldn’t consider yourself in love with Gerard considering you two hadn’t spent more than five minutes together, but you had to admit he was pretty attractive. “What time is it?” You asked out loud. Ray looked at his watch.

“5:56.” He replied.

“So dinner starts in four minutes.” Mel said, “We should probably go.” The six of you headed out of your cabin and down a few trails to the cafeteria.

“What’s usually for dinner?” Gerard asked you, walking beside you.

“First night’s usually pizza. It’s halfway decent. The rest of the food is shit but we live.” He nodded.

“But Y/N’s rich parents always ship us snacks.” Frank interrupted. You tensed feeling extremely uncomfortable at the topic that was brought up. Your parents were wealthy and you were extremely lucky and grateful, but you hated being associated with your family’s wealth and everyone in the group knew that.

“C’mon Frank.” Mel stuck up for you, “Just be grateful.”

You all made your way to the crowded hall, which was filled with primarily people who you had seen before, with a few new faces here and there. You all stood in line, grabbing the paper plates you had and grabbing your choice between Coke and water, you went with water. One by one you got two slivers of pizza on your plate, and sat at your traditional table in the corner. “So, let’s go over the groups.” Mel told Gerard. “This is probably the best time to do so.” “Most people here are nice. As long as you’re nice to them they’ll be nice back. The only people you don’t want to be near are the one’s in the center table.” She pointed, “They don’t have a group name because those are stupid, but-” “They’re a group of bitches.” Frank interrupted and Mel shot him a look, “Tell me I’m wrong.” She rolled her eyes.

“They’re just privileged white kids who are absolute pricks.” She sighed, “Just try to stay away from them. If you stay near us there’s a good chance we can help you if they decide to pick on you.”

“But they probably won’t,” Mikey began, “Because last year Y/N exposed their ring leader, Lacey, of getting a boob job in front of the entire camp.” Everyone snickered as I smirked.

“That was worth getting a three day detention.”

“Hell yeah it was.” Frank added on.

“Hello everyone!” You heard Jasper, the camp director shouted. You all sighed.

“Who’s that?” Gerard whispered.

“The director, Jasper. He’s gonna do his stupid yearly speech.” He nodded. You all sat back ready to endure his ongoing words about how great camp was, and all the fun, and responsibilities. Basically the bullshit.

“Basic rules,” He finished up, “No fighting. No drugs or alcohol,” Jasper looked at Frank, “That includes any tobacco products. And no bullying.” He finished up. “Now have fun!” Everyone clapped. The six of you got up, throwing out your plates and heading back to your cabins.

“The spot?” Mikey asked and you all nodded. You and Mel went in, Mel grabbing her backpack.

“Rose all day baby.” She smiled, slipping a few bottles and cups in. You rolled your eyes, “Oh c’mon, ease up a bit.” “I’m just not big on alcohol.” You said. You two got up and walked through the various patches of forest and trails, a flashlight in hand before you reached the spot, a little hangout area you found under an old bridge on the camp ground. You saw the four boys were already there.

“And here comes the ladies.” Frank sighed, lighting a cigarette, “Late as always.” You flipped him off. You took a seat on one of the wood benches next to Gerard, after climbing over a few rocks in the water to get to the area.

“Who wants a drink?” Mel asked. Everyone said yes, besides you and Gerard.

“Buzzkills.” Frank said.

“Hey.” You snapped, “Some people choose not to break rules. It’s a personal choice.” You looked at Gerard who nodded. Everyone began talking about some topic which you didn’t get invested in. You looked at Gerard who you could tell was not into it either. “Here,” You told him, grabbing his hand. He looked up at you. “Follow me.” He got up as you led him hand in hand to the other side of the bridge where you took your shoes off putting them in the water. Gerard followed. “It’s really beautiful here.” You said, looking up at the clear night sky.

“Yeah it is.” He agreed.

“So, why did you decide to come here?” You asked him.

“Well, Mikey would talk about it all the time. He just loves it here. I wanted to go for so long.” He explained, “But I was an alcoholic. So my parents eventually got me sober.” He finished.

“I don’t think your parents did.” You said, “You got yourself sober.” “Well, kinda.” He replied, “They just really pressured me to.” You nodded.

“Are you happier now?” You asked him, “Sorry if that was too much of a personal question.”

“No it’s alright.” He said, “Not too many people talk to me about it, they think it’s kinda weird. But yeah, I am happier now.” “That’s good, right?” He nodded.

“Yeah, it’s nice to be able to remember things.” He lightly laughed. “What about you?” He asked.

“What?” “What’s so fucked up about you?” He said, “And don’t lie and tell me nothing, because we’re all a little fucked up.”

“I don’t know.” You said, “I’m depressed. Which I guess in the grand scheme of things it isn’t the worst thing ever. Everyone in the group knows it, but I’ve been doing pretty alright for a while. Art’s helped me a lot.” “That’s good.” He said, “I’ve suffered with depression, art’s helped me too.”

“So what are you most excited for here?” You changed the subject. “I guess just meeting new people, like you.” He smiled, “So far that’s worked.” You nodded. “What’s something you always look forward to?”

“Basically hanging out.” You smiled, “We do this most nights, and when it rains we all go into Mel’s and my cabin and share stupid scary stories.” “Sounds fun.” “It is.” You said, “You’re obligated to come though, so you should see.” “I’m obligated?” He teased, “And how am I obligated.” “Well you’re apart of the group now,” You began, “And where else do you think you would fit in here?” “Ouch, that kinda hurt.” You both lightly laughed. “But you make a fair point.” “Oh I know I do.” You playfully nudged him.

“C’mon you two, we need to head back before it gets too dark.” Ray turned a corner of one of the pillars. You both got up walking over to where everyone else was.

The crew and you two walked back, you and Gerard trailing behind a bit to start up some small conversation. “What’s your first class tomorrow?” You asked.

“Sketching, I think. 10 am.” “Same.” You smiled. “What’s after that?” “I think I have writing and then cartooning.” “Oh cool,” You said, “I have photography and then painting.”

“That’s cool.” He replied. You two had made your way back to main camp, you and Melanie said bye to everyone and went back to your room.

“So, you and Gerard seem pretty cozy.” Mel smiled, as you crashed on your bed. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh fuck off.” “So you like him?” She smirked.

“I’m fond of him.” You corrected, “But he is attractive.”

“So are you gonna go after him?” “Probably not,” You sighed, “I mean he’s what, going into his senior year? He’s a year older and I’m sure he has a girlfriend.” “Have you asked him?” “No.” You replied honestly.

“Then ask him.” “That would make it so obvious.” “Then ask Mikey.” “Maybe.” You said, “But then Mikey would know.” “I think all of us already know.”

“Plus he’s way out of my league.” “Did you forget that you got hot?” She asked you, “Like really hot?” You huffed.

“I just don’t see it working.” “You haven’t even known him for 24 hours, and now you don’t think a relationship with him would work?” She asked, “You have six weeks to make something work with him and start a summer romance. Might as well do it early on.” “Shut up.” You sighed, “I’m going to bed.”

[obviouslyelementary]

It’s about family - Chapter 4

Ao3 link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/24198928/chapters/58289167

Warnings: Remus being rude to everyone, specially Roman.

Ships: Still Demus. Will be for a while.

Tags: @yuna-dan

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

Chapter 4 - Private Talks

Life truly was a strange little thing.

Most people said life passed too fast, that you had to make the most of it while you had time, and that your entire life passed in front of your eyes before you died. Life could be surprising, and Patton kinda understood where that came from now. But he was sure life didn't just pass before your eyes when you died.

Or else, that would be an unbelievably bad end for a nice party.

The world surrounding him went blurry and slow motion. The party songs seemed to turn into a merely buzzing sound at the back of his brain, and he couldn't look away even if he tried. And Janus stared back at him, his eyes always so... him. Patton couldn't look anywhere else. He took in his form, his sharper jaw line, lifted nose, the way his hair fell over his face, half hiding the mark on his left side, the earrings that fell over his shoulders so long they were, and his slim figure, dressed in the most pretty of golds and blacks, almost in a dress format, so beautiful and extravagant as him.

The volcano of feelings that erupted inside Patton was too intense and strong to stop, making his stomach twist, his heart squeeze, his lungs shrink, his legs tremble, his muscles contract, and it was almost like he was having a complete malfunction of all organs as he just stared at the person he hadn't seen in so long.

It felt so weird.

"...on... Patton..." he heard someone saying in the middle of all the confusion of feelings he was having, but he only really came back to reality when a hand touched his shoulder, and he turned to see Logan, looking at him with the most worried face he had ever seen. "Patton... are you okay?"

"Oh me? Oh I'm fine!" he said, suddenly, a bit too hyper, before turning back and hearing the loud beat of the song again, all the people screaming over the music, and all of the others just stared at him like he was crazy. "Sorry I doze off for a second, it is  a pleasure to meet you, Remus, Janus!"

"He... hadn't said his name" Roman said, and Patton felt a dread in his stomach before he laughed loudly and extensively and waved his hand.

"Oops, I guess I am too good at guessing hehehe... well it is a pleasure nevertheless."

"It surely is..." Janus said, slow and with his usual displeased tone, before he turned back to Remus and smiled at him, holding one of his cheeks with his hand. "Now honey, would you mind not flirting with every single guest? I would truly appreciate if you gave me some attention tonight."

"My little snake, I will give you all the attention tonight! Why don't we all go somewhere more reserved? I would really like to talk to my brother and his friends without, you know, the extreme banging of songs in my ears!" Remus said, his arm wrapped around Janus, sending something very dark and bad into Patton's stomach.

"Oh of course. Follow me" Janus said, waving his hand, and after a quick glance, the four friends followed the couple through the crowd. Roman had to keep begging for Virgil not to leave, while Logan looked at Patton, one hand placed comfortingly on his lower back.

"Pat... do you really want to stay? We can leave at any time" he whispered, and Patton looked at him, giving him a smile.

"I'm fine Lo. Don't worry about it. Also we can't leave Roman and Virgil on their own. They clearly are not very happy where they are" he said, looking at their younger friends, watching as they quietly discussed in front of the group. "We need to be their support!"

"We can't support anyone when we are feeling miserable Patton, we discussed this already" Logan said, firmly, but Patton brushed him off and gave him a confident smile.

"I am not feeling miserable Lo, I swear. Now come on, we have to make sure they won't kill each other. Or kill Remus. Or cry."

"That... we do" Logan sighed, and headed upstairs after Virgil and Roman, looking as the crowd stayed behind them and the music turned faint and far away.

 Janus and Remus guided them to the second floor, into a hallway that had a few people that also wanted some privilege, and took them to a separated room that looked like a lounge area for guests. Janus closed the door once everyone was inside, giving Patton a side glance that didn't pass unnoticed, while Remus turned on the lights and grabbed some whiskey and wine for them.

"Make yourselves at home while I serve you all some drinks" he said, politely, and Patton took a moment to look around. It was magnificent, with three large couches, comfy chairs, fluffy rugs, a TV on top of a very nice fireplace, decorations all over the walls and tables, a full liquor bar on the back, with stools, and even a private bathroom and a few games like chess and darts, everything very bar-like.

They found their ways into the couches, the four of them sitting next to each other, with Roman on one end and Patton on the other, Virgil and Logan in between, while Janus took his already full glass of wine and sat down on one of the single chairs, crossing his legs, sipping his drink, eyes never leaving Patton. He knew that because he barely shifted his own away from him for too long.

There was an awkward and long silence while Remus served them drinks, and when he returned, he handed all of them a wine glass and a whiskey glass, something that internally Patton was grateful for because fuck if he didn't want to get drunk right now.

"Why is everyone so quiet? Come on, this is home!" Remus said, and Virgil shifted uncomfortably. No one seemed to want to make the first move, so Logan, the always perfect ice breaker, rose the wine glass to his nose and hummed.

"This is a cabernet sauvignon, is it not?" he asked, and Remus chuckled, sitting on a chair on the opposite side of Janus, which meant he was the closest to Roman, furthest from Patton.

"Yes it is. Not everyone can smell a wine's grapes" he teased, and Logan raised his eyebrow.

"I saw the bottle when you were serving it."

"Oh yes, I know" Remus smirked, and leaned in closer, eyeing them all in a way that could very easily be considered creepy. "I have to be honest, I never expected my brother and Virgil to become friends of people like... you two."

"What about you don't act honest and just shut up?" Virgil asked, seeming to immediately get defensive, but Remus was not taken back, simply smirking and leaning backwards against the chair.

"Come on Virgil, that is no way of treating your party host. Besides, I let you all come inside with no hesitation, even though I only invited Roman, so I am being nice."

"You can't ever be nice, and believe me, I wouldn’t be here if it was for me. None of us would. And I actually really want to leave" Virgil said, he had no filter when he was feeling cornered.

"You are welcome to leave at any time, I don't want anyone to be forced in here. I wasn't even expecting neither of you to show up, so this is good enough. I thought my brother's hatred and jealousy would never allow him to step inside my mansion" Remus said, in a way that sounded so genuine and honest, but that held so much venom behind it that even Patton flinched.

"I am aware that you and Roman haven’t talked in years, and I also know we don't know each other for so long, but just believe me when I say Roman doesn't allow his feelings to interfere in important subjects such as seeing his brother again" Logan said immediately jumping to defend his friends. Patton was thankful for it, because his brain was not working. "In any way, could you please tell us more about yourself? Roman was surprised when he told us you were moving, do you mind telling us what happened?"

Remus seemed to lose a bit of his character at that, surely not expecting them to say anything back, and huffed softly before drinking a large gulp of whiskey before regaining his balance again and smirking at Logan.

"You are a curious one, I like it. Well, this town is relatively small and it has many business opportunities, and as I am certain Roman has told you, we come from a very wealthy family, so I took my savings and moved here, to be closer to my brother, and to open my new tattoo shop, which has always been my dream." He said, and Patton had to hold back his surprise at finding out that Roman was rich.

He had never heard of that before.

"I-I mean, I didn't-" Roman tried, clearly looking for an excuse, but Logan was quicker than him, smiling at Remus in such a cold way that even Patton was surprised. Logan could be emotionless, but he was never cold.

"Yes, he did tell us, and he also told us he wanted to pursue a more honest way of living, thus why he doesn't use your parents' money. Of course, if that is the real reason or not, it doesn't matter. Roman is a very successful designer now, he surely doesn't need any support. Although I do hope your tattoo shop works out for you, even if I should point out that almost no tattoo artist ever becomes rich enough to endorse in the type of... high society activities you seem to enjoy. So perhaps you should try a broader field, if you wish to remain monetarily successful."

Patton's eyes were wide as he looked at Logan, and so were Virgil's and Roman's. Roman actually looked like he was about to cry, while Virgil had a spark in his face that basically said 'fuck you he's right' in a way that made Patton feel more relieved. And the look in Remus' face... it wasn't good at all. All his proud and loud façade seemed to fall flat, and he was looking so angry that Patton started to see how honest Roman and Virgil's fears were.

Remus did not look like a good person in the slightest.

But he couldn't help but steal a glance at Janus, who seemed both offended and amused by the whole discussion going on, two expressions that Patton had never seen in the same person at the same time. Still, there it was, and Janus was quick to fix himself on his chair and sigh.

"Please, boys, can we stop fighting in between the lines? Remus, behave" he said, firm and classy, and Remus leaned away and drank his whiskey while Patton held Logan's hand and smiled. Virgil and Roman seemed to immediately get more comfortable on their spots, regaining their normal body language, seeming to have won a battle they didn't even participate in. "So. Roman. Remus told me quite a lot about you. We didn't know you were a designer."

"Oh yes I am" Roman said, loud and proud, placing a hand on his own chest. "I design clothes for a company here in the area. It is a very rewarding job in the material way, but I also work with a group of children and teach them theater for free, because that enriches the soul."

"That is lovely, I do enjoy myself some voluntary work sometimes. And what about you... Virgil?" Janus asked, and Virgil sighed, arms crossing over his chest.

"I'm a florist. I like flowers" he said, dryly, and Janus gave hima confused look before nodding slowly and sipping on his wine.

"Interesting... Logan, what do you do in life?" he asked, while Logan rolled his eyes impatiently. Someone really wasn't enjoying their time.

"I teach. Science. To a school" he said, annoyed, and Janus nodded slowly without adding anything before turning his head towards Patton, glance seeming to... soften? No. No, Patton was seeing things.

"And you... Patton?" he said, almost in a whisper, his lips over the glass of wine, his legs crossing again so he could turn his whole body towards Patton, eyes digging into his soul like they always did... they always did...

"What do you want to do, after we graduate?"

"I don't know... start a family?"

"That's for girls, Pat. What do you want to work on?"

"I don't know..."

'I don't know...'

"I..." Patton whispered, and then blinked away the memory, shaking his head and breathing in quickly. "I work at a toy store! And I have a kid!"

'I have a kid!'

'Family'

'Family...'

"You have a kid?" Remus said, interrupting the moment, and Patton snapped his head towards him, seeing his disdained look. "Where's your partner? Not up for parties? Dead?"

"I don't have one" he said, softly, and couldn't help but frown. "Also that is very rude to say, what if I had a deceased partner? What would you say?"

"I would say that they are lucky not to be around an idiot like you anymore. You know because those puns downstairs were-"

"Remus!" Janus said, loudly, and angry, and everyone turned to him surprised, even Remus himself. Janus recomposed himself, noticing he had gone a bit too far, and sighed loudly. "Stop being rude to our guests. I know you hate your brother as much as the next person, but chill for god's sake! Here, go grab me some more wine. Downstairs. And don't come back until you are feeling better."

Janus handed his glass of wine to Remus, who after a loud groan took it and left the room, like a dog being told no. Roman's eyes widened, and Virgil couldn't help but snort, both of them looking at Janus impressed.

"How did you do that?!" Virgil said, excited, and Patton relaxed a bit now that the attention was away from him. Janus chuckled as Roman and Virgil started to bombard him with questions about how he had tamed Remus, answering to their questions with laughs and bows, all while Logan held Patton's hand and looked at him.

They had a short conversation through their glances, and Logan stood up, excusing them to go to the bathroom. Patton followed, because of course he did, knowing very well what Logan wanted to talk about.

Still, he couldn't help the skipping of his heart when he heard Janus' laugh in the background.

[beafitz]

wednesday, august 12th. 2:11pm. the steps outside of bnd headquarters. tl;dr bea isn’t okay. that’s it, none of this matters!! tw: abortion reference, death, bullying, panic attacks

bea sat down on the ground in the plaza in front of the bnd, pulled her knees to her chest, and put her head in lap. as soon as her face was hidden she began to cry. silent tears slipped down her face and onto her knees, littering her pants with wet splotches. she wasn’t sure what she looked like to any passerby, but at this point she was too tired to care. she felt strained, like everything that kept her going had disappeared and left her empty. she wanted to lie in bed with her dog and watch standup on netflix until she fell asleep, but trixie was still on nantucket with her grandmother, and she was trying to find comfort in something other than a john mulaney joke. 

berlin had started out as a dream for bea. she’d had the privilege of spending the year after she graduated from spy prep making her way across europe and asia. she had left home with the intention of finding herself, and while that didn’t happen, the year was rich with memories she would treasure for the rest of her life. she had only spent a few days in berlin, and the chance to return was enticing. she’d be living with girls she liked and working with a group of people who seemed nice. the internship itself didn’t seem particularly interesting to her, but during weekends she’d be free to travel around europe, this time with friends.

things started out well. the job was boring but easy, and the days seemed to fly by so she could enjoy each night. she felt free in a way she didn’t feel at gallagher and the stern demeanor of the germans around her couldn’t keep the smile off of her face. that freedom came with a heavy dose of guilt,  knowing that her grandmother was all alone, three thousand seven hundred and seventy six miles away. but her grandmother wanted what was best for bea, and berlin seemed like the best place she could be. so she pushed the guilt aside and let herself actually enjoy something. 

but it wasn’t long before things started to go downhill. bea tried to avoid politics, especially when it related to her father, but some things were impossible to ignore. elections were in november and richard fitzsimmons was spending his summer campaigning. much to bea’s chagrin, it seemed to be working. his platform was built on things bea believed in, and theoretically she would want a senator whose views aligned with her own. but she knew that in reality, he wasn’t the man he claimed to be. family values sounded nice, but it seemed a bit hollow coming from someone who had gone to great lengths to hide the existence of his eldest daughter. he said he believed in a woman’s right to choose, but if he’d had his way, he would have chosen for bea’s mother himself. his idea of supporting the working class was through hush money, and it was easy to champion tax cuts for the wealthy when most of your family’s money was in offshore accounts. he was only as liberal as the public wanted him to be, and it wasn’t difficult to spot the fact that the vast majority of his staff was white. bea didn’t think she could handle another six years of yelling at the tv and ripping up newspaper articles that showcased his impossibly bright smile.

and then there was her mother. forty four months until she would be declared dead, and in the meantime bea had nothing to do but hope she would come home. she didn’t believe in a higher power, but she still prayed that the suits who informed them that her mother was gone were wrong. it was all a misunderstanding. she was stuck somewhere,  maybe in danger. but alive, and waiting for the day she could safely return to her family. but the more time she spent with spies, the more she was forced to accept that this career was not normal, and the possibility of disappearing without a trace was an accepted job hazard. 

the shadow of her mother’s absence was hanging over her head and every news alert she got with her father’s name was another reminder of how betrayed she felt by someone who, theoretically, was supposed to care about her. but she had never expected him to care. bea had, however, expected danny to care about her. despite him dumping her without citing a reason, she had held on to the idea that their time together had meant something to him. they had talked, barely a week before, for what felt like the first time in ages, and while it made things significantly more confusing it was also reassuring. she had spent a long time trying to glue all the pieces of her heart back together, and though this made a few pieces fall off again, she didn’t really mind. she thought that maybe someday they could be friends, but she was wrong. standing in line at a sandwich shop was a bad place for your former bully to tell you that she had slept with your former boyfriend, but as much as bea would love to blame ria, she wasn’t the one who had let her down. 

bea had told danny about ria. she told him about how she made her miserable, the number of times she had hidden in a bathroom to cry, and how she was going to great lengths to avoid her now that they were both at gallagher. she was under the impression that he had listened and that her experiences had colored the way he viewed ria. and maybe they had, but apparently not enough to stop him from sleeping with her. she didn’t really care who he slept with - she would go crazy if she did - but this felt different. maybe he didn’t care about her feelings, or maybe he wanted to hurt her even more. but it reinforced something she had felt about her father for a long time: you couldn’t trust men. putting your faith in them would always come back to haunt you. 

there were only a couple of days left in the internship, and it seemed to bea like it would be ending on a sour note. she crashed a computer so badly that the fan almost broke trying to cool it off, and her mentor seemed to think she was an idiot. she wasn’t sure what had gotten into her - usually this was what she was good at. computers were one of the few things in life that bea felt like she truly understood, but somehow that had slipped away. maybe she couldn’t handle high pressure situations. hacking from the comfort of her dorm room was one thing, doing it in an office full of spies was something else entirely. everything was too loud and too bright and she wasn’t sure if she was getting a migraine or teetering on the edge of a panic attack.

bea thought back to the beginning of the summer and the blog post by that tina girl that said she would be the first to crack under the pressure. she wasn’t entirely sure why tina had written it, but for the past six weeks she’d been actively trying to keep herself together. and it had worked, for the most part. she was certain she wasn’t the first to crack, but she also couldn’t deny the fact that now her protective shell was falling apart and her thoughts had become too scrambled to understand. she pulled out her phone, knowing the only person she really wanted to talk to, the only person who could truly help her, was her grandmother. but she didn’t want her to worry. bea wanted her grandmother to think she was having the time of her life, and she had the whole plane ride home to figure out how to paint the trip in a good light without lying.

was it too much to ask for the world to see her father as the crooked liar that he was? or for her mother to come home alive? or for some company like lacuna inc. to come save her from her own memories? maybe a little. the idea of painful memories being erased was an appealing one - ignorance was bliss, after all. but bea felt like she knew nothing and was still miserable. she looked up and rubbed her eyes before standing up and looking around. she wasn’t sure what to do except go back inside and pretend like everything was fine,

[calenheniel]

Disappearing Act, a frozen fanfic | iii.

Frozen | Hans, Elsa | Alternate Universe, Drama | G+

She wanted to disappear. He wanted a purpose. Together, they would pull off an impossible feat before the final curtain call.

Part i | Part ii | Updates: #DisappearingActFrozen

Author’s Note: Thanks again, everyone! Sorry if I did a fake out last week with this note; there are actually four parts to this story, not three. Enjoy!

»»————-　❈　————-««

iii.

“In my old life,” he began, “I was never satisfied. I always wanted more.”

Her brow rose. “Even though you were already wealthy?”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t about money for me—it never has been. I sure as hell wouldn’t have taken up this kind of work if it were,” he replied. “It was more that I… didn’t feel important, or respected. I didn’t think I had any purpose in this world, except to watch all of my brothers succeed and thrive where I couldn’t.”

She frowned. “And why couldn’t you, as well?”

His shoulders tensed, rising nearly to his ears. “Because I was – am – the last of them. I would inherit nothing, be responsible for nothing, take pride in nothing—and yet be wanting of nothing all the same, because it would have been unthinkable to allow one of the Westergard sons to become publicly destitute.”

“Is that your real family name? Westergard?” she asked.

He nodded, flexing his hands in his gloves. “Yes. And with that name, I didn’t know who I was outside of it. It felt as though I had nothing to live for, save for passing fancies at cards or in brothels. And so, I made something up,” he said, and glanced at her. “Something you won’t like.”

Elsa’s lips pursed. “Try me.”

He sighed. “One of my oldest brothers – Kristian – was engaged to a young noblewoman by the name of Lady Therese. It was arranged by my father, of course, as the marriage would bring quite a lot of wealth to our family, and Kristian was a renowned and admired naval admiral who would likewise bring good repute to hers, which had obtained their wealth through… less than honorable means, to put it kindly.” His nose twitched at the recollection. “But Kristian seemed to be genuinely infatuated with the girl, and made that infatuation well-known to anyone who would listen to his blathering. Naturally, I hated it, and, well… I couldn’t help but want to test his true feelings—to see if he really cared at all for her, or just for her money.”

Elsa sucked in a breath. “… Hans, you didn’t.”

He chuckled. “Indeed I did—I went after his bride-to-be with my most convincing lovesick act, figuring that if she didn’t leave Kristian for me and offer me her money instead, then at least I got to get under the Admiral’s – and my father’s – skin,” he said, and added: “I knew it was risky, but… if I’m honest, the whole affair made me feel really alive for the first time in a long while. Even if it ended up with me here, and their lives largely unchanged.”

“So what happened?” she countered. “I take it that your scheme didn’t go as planned.”

“Indeed not. Needless to say, the first part went off without a hitch and the girl was madly in love with me and promised to me within a week, but the second part…” He wore a cynical smile. “Well, her father didn’t take too kindly to the idea of marrying his prized filly off to the youngest son, who had no standing or character to speak of. So he called off both our secret engagement, as well as the official one to my brother, and I was made to tell Therese that I am a scoundrel and a charlatan who was only after her money, so that she might forget about me and move on to find a more suitable match—who, I might add,” he continued with a chuckle, “would probably also only be after her for her money, anyway.”

She crossed her arms. “That’s it? That was your only punishment?”

Hans scoffed. “Of course not. My father put me on house arrest and took all of my privileges away – spending allowances, attending parties, even reading in the estate’s library, which was, to be honest, my only real pleasure – and arranged a marriage for me to a homely and dull creature from a rich family in a backwater province, with whom I would be sent to live after the papers were signed.” He eyed his hands for a moment, and began to loosen the gloves from his fingers, his smile widening. “Obviously, that never happened, as I fled well before the ceremony could ever take place. However, I must hand it to the old man—it would’ve been a very fitting punishment, and it still amuses me on some level to consider.”

She paused as he removed the gloves, glancing at her own. “Did they try to find you?” she asked.

He shrugged again. “Probably. I’ve tried to avoid looking at papers since I left, though, so who knows? I can’t imagine that they’d spend much effort to look for me once I was out of the Isles. International detective work is expensive, and I don’t think Father could afford it, since I cost him two weddings’ worth of easy money.” He continued: “Anyway, this is the last place any of them would ever think to find me. None of them are interesting enough to even dream of it.”

“And no one here suspects that you’re not who you say you are?”

He shifted in his seat. “Oh, they do. I think it’s just… understood here that everyone’s got a past they’re running from. And if you don’t ask about theirs, they don’t ask about yours. Suits me pretty well, even if the place smells like a horse’s ass half the time.”

“But you’ve started doing really well, recently,” she pointed out. “Aren’t you concerned that you’re attracting more attention?”

“Not particularly,” he replied. “But if I did, I’d just move on again. Find another job, lay low, et cetera. I don’t have to tell you how this works.”

She looked down, her hands knitting together. “I know, it just… sounds exhausting.”

“Because it is,” he agreed. “I’m tired all the time, these days.”

He tossed his gloves onto a table nearby, and stared at her for a long while. When she finally met his gaze, he added:

“Isn’t it the same for you?”

»» —— ««

She laid in bed for a while, hardly blinking as she stared up at the cloth roof over her head.

The snores of the other women in the shared quarters echoed around her, sometimes quieting to a lull before roaring to full volume again without warning. Her bunkmate on the bed below shifted in her sleep, and the mattress creaked.

She sat up, carefully laying her moth-eaten blanket to the side, and climbed down the bunk ladder to the ground. Throwing on her blue cloak, gloves, and shoes, she took up a small lantern and a box of matches from a chair nearby.

When she stepped out of the tent, darkness greeted her; striking a match and lighting the lamp, she took a long inhale, and walked towards the stables.

»» —— ««

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“No. Not a wink. You?”

“I don’t sleep much. Besides, Sitron likes the company.”

“I can tell.”

“So what brought you here? The smell is only going to keep you awake.”

“I—I suppose it was the thought of you. Of our chat.”

“Glad to know you associate me with horseshit.”

“That’s not what I—you know what I meant.”

“Yes. And… I suppose it was the thought of you that brought me here, too. Reminds me of our first real conversation. Do you remember?”

“Of course I do.”

»» —— ««

They gazed at each other in silence for a moment, their cheeks warm; then, he turned back to Sitron, continuing to brush his mane.

She looked down, and bit her lip to keep it from quivering.

»» —— ««

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s—it’s about my past. Why I came here.”

“Elsa, you don’t have to tell me anything.”

“I know, but… I want to. I want to tell you.”

“… then I won’t stop you.”

»» —— ««

He paused, setting down the brush; she sighed, and let her hands fall by her sides.

The air was colder than before.

»» —— ««

“I told you that I had parents and a sister, once.”

“Yes. And that they had passed.”

“They did. But… not in the way you might think.”

“What happened to them?”

“I… it was my fault. All of it was because of me, and my—it’s my fault.”

“What are you saying, Elsa?”

»» —— ««

He shuddered as she closed her eyes, and then – meeting his stare – she removed her gloves, one by one, letting them fall to the ground whereupon they stood.

With the slightest movement of her bare hand, a snowflake the size of an apple and made entirely of ice appeared in her palm. It rotated slowly, suspended in mid-air above her skin.

His breath caught in his throat.

»» —— ««

“It’s… real. The rumors were true.”

“Not all of them, but… yes. Many were.”

“Funny to think that when I first saw your act, I just assumed it was sleight of hand and plays of light, but seeing it now… how could this be possible?”

“I don’t know; I’ve never known.”

“Does anyone else know about it?”

“No one, except my family. And they suffered for it.”

»» —— ««

The snowflake vanished from her hand, and her fingers curled into a tight fist, her knuckles turning white.

He took one step closer to her.

»» —— ««

“Elsa, what happened?”

»» —— ««

She wept without restraint, and buried her face in her hands.

The cold was biting, and the horses whinnied.

»» —— ««

“I didn’t mean to do it—I don’t even know why it happened. I was just so afraid, and angry at being hidden away for so many years, that I lashed out, and… I couldn’t control it.”

“Hidden away?”

“Yes. I struck Anna by accident as a child, and my parents became so frightened that they kept me under close guard at all times thereafter. I was made to wear those gloves as well; Father hoped they would contain me, somehow. I couldn’t even remember the last time I went without them, until I came here. But none of that matters, because I… I hurt them. I froze them. And I didn’t know how to – no, couldn’t fix it – so I left.”

“Elsa… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry for me. I don’t deserve that, and I don’t want that, either. I’m a monster and a witch and every other vile thing that’s been said about me, and worse.”

“Stop it.”

»» —— ««

The temperature paused in its descent ever-downward as she looked up at him.

»» —— ««

“You’re no monster, Elsa. Your magic is… special. A gift.”

“How could you say that? After hearing what I’ve done—”

“And what about me? A scoundrel, philanderer, a fraud—and, according to some, a grasping and devious son of a whore, to boot.”

“You know it’s not the same. Not even close.”

“My point is: whatever happened, it happened when you were alone and afraid, and didn’t understand your own strength. But look at you now: you can speak with me freely without hurting me, and bring joy to many people, night after night, with your magic. Surely that is not the work of a witch, is it?”

“Just ‘pedestrian parlor tricks,’ as you once put it.”

“No—not just that. It’s much more than that, it’s… beautiful.”

“You’re… not afraid of it? Of me?”

“Why should I be?”

»» —— ««

She saw only sincerity in his expression, and in seeing this, her sobs started afresh.

»» —— ««

“It doesn’t change what I’ve done. And what I may do to others, should I lose control again.”

“But why not try to control it better here, and practice more through your act? What do you have left to lose?”

“More than you know. Including—”

»» —— ««

Her tear-filled eyes met his for a brief moment—and in that moment, he understood.

»» —— ««

“So you intend to disappear.”

“Yes.”

“With my help.”

“Yes.”

“And what comes after?”

“What do you mean?”

“I told you: nothing ever really just vanishes into thin air, like your snowflake. It is moved somewhere else temporarily, until the magician puts it back into plain sight. So even if I were to do this, I don’t think it would work out the way you want it to.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

»» —— ««

He frowned, and his chin sunk to his chest.

The first light of morning was beginning to break over the horizon.

»» —— ««

“I don’t want to help you, Elsa.”

“I know.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You can. I won’t force you to do anything.”

“And yet, you’re very good at getting me to do what you want, anyway.”

»» —— ««

The light crept into the barn, casting a long line across the dirt below before climbing up to illuminate their faces.

He put his hands in his pockets, and looked down at his boots, still shadowed by darkness. Her discarded gloves lay close to his feet, and he bent down to pick them up, handing them back to her.

She looked at them with hesitation, at first; then, she inhaled deeply, and took them from him.

When their eyes met again, his expression was hard and set, and the sunrise was nearly blinding.

»» —— ««

“We’ll do it tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes. We’ll put on a double act with you up first, and then I’ll bring you in at the end of mine as a surprise for the ones who stick around.”

“And… how will you do it?”

“A magician never shares his secrets.”

“Even for this?”

“Even for this.”

[missjanjie]

Branjie Fic | Bad Girls Club (8/8)

Title: Bad Girls Club Summary:  Los Angeles’ new program, the Juvenile Female Rehabilitation Program (JFRP) was created with the purpose of taking at-risk girls in the county and send them to a summer-long program located where a sleepaway camp once stood. There, they will take classes in ethics, behavior, and other courses to help mold these young minds. Brooke Lynn and Vanessa have been sent there for wildly different reasons, but with the same result - a clean permanent record. Being roomed together, the pair might find an unlikely alliance (and maybe more) in each other. Word Count: ~2.5k (this chapter)/~22k (total) Relationship: Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo) Rating: E

A/N: I really can’t believe it’s done, you guys! Thank you all for your ongoing support and a special thanks to @artificialmeggie​ for being a fantastic beta ♥

Read on AO3

------

Brooke Lynn furrowed her brows when she woke up. Why was her bed smaller than usual? But then her eyes adjusted, and she realized Vanessa was sound asleep and nestled into her side. Ah yes, the limited space was well worth it. As it turned out, she had become quite accustomed to being confined to narrow spaces with the smaller girl, and it always worked in her favor. “You know what I just realized?”

Vanessa yawned and pushed the mess of hair off her face. “Hmm?”

“One of my fondest memories of our time here takes place in a supply closet. Can you imagine trying to explain that to someone?”

She laughed softly and buried her face into the crook of Brooke’s neck. “Ain’t no one gonna find out though.”

And sure, it would always be their little secret, but Brooke couldn’t help but picture the look on a classmate’s face if she confessed to her summertime endeavors. In an odd way, she was proud that she would be going home a changed girl, a well-rounded version of herself that no amount of voluntary extracurriculars would have ever been able to match. She had expected to awkwardly fly under the radar for the duration of the program - no confrontation, just keeping her head down and getting the job done.

“I don’t think there’s anything I could tell anyone that they would believe anyway.”

Vanessa snorted. “They’re gonna ask if you got shanked or tattooed or some shit, huh? They’ll be looking for a lil teardrop under your eye.” She poked her face where the tattoo would be, then kissed the spot of unmarked skin.

Brooke Lynn rolled her eyes and squeezed her lightly. “Baby, they don’t think I went to prison. Most of them don’t even know what the real story is, they think I’m a counselor at a camp for underprivileged youths.”

“I’m an underprivileged youth, it’s kinda true!”

And a lot of the girls in the program were in situations almost identical to Vanessa’s, or even worse. While Brooke had expected to be an outlier on campus, she could have never prepared herself for the stories she heard - abuse, neglect, poverty - and half the time the storyteller wouldn’t even bat an eye, in fact they sometimes appreciated the fact that she would sit and listen without insulting them. Or even worse, pity them.

Brooke sat up and pulled her hair into a ponytail. “I think that’s what I wanna do now, though. Like, I’ve always known how privileged I am, but actually having something to compare my life to really changes things, you know?”

Vanessa rolled to lay flat on her back, shifting her legs to trap Brooke between them. “Normally when I hear your type talk about trying to help my type out, it’s full of that bullshit white warrior complex.”

“White savior.”

“Whatever, same thing,” she huffed. “We’ve had rich white people come to the hood, click their tongues all ‘oh, poor baby’ like, maybe buy us lunch or a pair of sneakers, and walk away patting theyselves on their backs like they did us such a big favor. I seen the way you talk to the other girls, you actually give a fuck.”

Vanessa hated being patronized - though the actual word wouldn’t come to mind. There were times when wealthy folks would wander into the ‘bad part of town’ where she lived and just gawk at them like they were visiting the zoo. Sure, she would take the free meal if she were bored or hungry, but that didn’t mean she actually appreciated it.

But she appreciated Brooke, not just for seeing her humanity but seeing her as an equal. She knew it was something she should be able to expect from anyone, but that was unrealistic (not that anything about their current situation would sound especially realistic to an outsider). It was what made their relationship feel like more than just sex - they connected on some sort of deeper level that she had the unyielding desire to cling to.

And yet she had to put it in jeopardy one more time. “I need to tell you something. You know how I told you I got sent here over something dumb?”

Brooke’s brows knitted as she tried to recall. “It was like… weed and a fake ID, right?”

“That’s the story.” Vanessa looked down and sighed. “And it did happen a lot, but I got sent here ‘cause I was seeing this girl that actually had a boyfriend but kept jerking me around, so I TP’ed her house and hooked A’keria into it.” She spoke fast, just barely coherent, because the sooner she ripped off the bandage the better. “Just didn’t wanna seem crazy from day one.”

To Vanessa’s surprise, there wasn’t much of a reaction from Brooke. She shrugged, nonplussed. “That’s not so bad.” Her arms looped back around her waist and pulled her close. “I thought you were gonna say you tried to stab her or something.”

Vanessa elbowed her playfully. “You think I’m someone that could cut a bitch?”

“Baby, don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”

------

Waiting for report cards was making the crowd of girls shift and bounce in anxious anticipation. They whispered to each other, speculating about their final grades and what it meant for their respective futures. The dining hall was full and the air was heavy with tension, as if everyone were holding their breath.

“Last names A through H come to the front to get your report cards.”

Brooke Lynn took a deep, unsteady breath as she got up and made her way towards the front of the hall.

“What are you nervous about?” A’keria asked, walking in time with her. “You know you’re gonna get a fuckin’…. quadruple A+.”

“I don’t know anything,” she retorted in a harsh whisper.

Bouncing on her heels as the secretary sorted through the cards and gave A’keria hers first, Brooke Lynn’s nerves didn’t quell for a moment. Grading wasn’t straightforward like it was at school - in fact, she didn’t actually know what the criteria was, even Nina wouldn’t give her a clear answer.

Once back at the table, both Scarlet and A’keria opened their cards first, both earning an impressive A-. “I told you they grade on a curve,” Scarlet laughed. “Open yours, Brookie, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“She’s just trying to be humble,” Yvie chimed in.

“It’s not like that, I swear,” Brooke insisted, cheeks tinting red. “I just don’t know how this shit works, okay?” But she did give in and opened the envelope and, without turning the page, simply said “Okay, it’s fine, let’s move on.”

“Nah, lemme see, boo.” Vanessa snatched the paper from her before the blonde had a chance to object. “Shit, Yvie was right, you just trying to spare our feelings or whatever.” She laughed, then clarified to the others, “A perfect score, no fucking surprise,” but then her expression changed and her demeanor quieted. “What, uh, happens if we don’t pass?”

Brooke Lynn shook her head and wrapped an arm around her. “You don’t even need to worry about that,” she assured, “you only need a C to pass. You can get a C, right?”

“I got 34 of ‘em, but then I take my bra off,” she couldn’t get any more of her concerns out before last names I through P were called and she had to march to her fate in a walk that seemed to take forever, and receiving the envelope only sent her heart racing into overdrive.

And she wasn’t feeling any relief by the time she returned to her seat, setting the envelope on the table in front of her and just staring at it. It almost seemed to mock her with its completely unassuming form.

“It’s not gonna go away just because you ain’t touching it,” A’keria pointed out.

Perhaps more reassuringly, Brooke kissed her forehead and hugged her tightly. “You got this, I know you do.”

Vanessa whined softly and hid against Brooke for another moment before finally accepting the inevitable. She stared at the page in unmoving silence for a beat, chewing on her lip.

“Well?”

Everyone’s eyes were trained on Vanessa, curiosity - and possibly concern - building as they watched her sit like a statue.

Then, with a sudden burst of emotion, she popped up with wide eyes. “I got a B!” she shrieked. With her voice loud and distinct by default, it was almost unsurprising that someone from another part of the hall shouted “Congrats, Vanessa!” in response.

But it didn’t even register to Vanessa. She had immediately thrown her arms around Brooke and hugged her close. Whether she would admit it or not, she was pretty sure she would not have achieved the same level of success without someone like Brooke, who knew how to study, what teachers wanted to hear, it was like having a set of cheat codes to education.

“Guess it’s really all over now, huh? Kinda wish they gave us yearbooks to sign or some shit,” A’keria mused when the excitement had died down. “What’s gonna happen with you two?” she gestured between Brooke Lynn and Vanessa.

The two girls untangled from each other and sat upright. “We’re still working out the details,” Brooke explained, rubbing the back of her neck. “But we’re optimistic.”

Optimism was all they had as everything was coming to an end. While they hadn’t officially labeled their relationship, they were optimistic that they could continue to have one. It would be complicated, it’d take effort, and they were both bound to face social repercussions one way or another. But they were optimistic it would be worth it.

And that was one of the many reasons they allowed themselves to relax and enjoy the end-of-summer celebration.

It was nothing extravagant – mainly pizza and snacks with music that consisted of an iPhone hooked up to a speaker. Still, it was a sign of good will and the teachers had organized it. Well, Nina and Monét did the vast majority of the work, but everyone else signed off on it.

“You know, I’m going to miss our lesbian den mothers,” Yvie remarked, glancing over at the two teachers who were watching the party with proud grins and linked arms. “I still can’t believe you guys hooked the two of them up.”

“Shit, me neither,” Brooke Lynn chuckled. There was no doubt that she would be bringing it up regularly once they were back at school.

“You’re lucky you get to see Ms. West at school, I don’t think anyone else has someone like that back home.”

She smiled fondly, even if the statement was bittersweet. “You’re right,” it was one of the few times she would admit as much. “Don’t know if I’d have gotten through this without her,” her gaze shifted to scan the scattering of girls dancing and mingling before settling. “Don’t know if I’d have gotten her.”

She swore there was something almost ethereal about Vanessa. The way the sun bounced off her skin, the way her wavy hair flowed, the way she could stand both elegantly but bursting with energy - she was special, and it made her feel at ease to know she wasn’t losing her.

“Here we go again," Yvie chuckled. "You really fell hook, line, and sinker for that crazy bitch, huh?” she asked, amused.

“Couldn’t have stopped myself if I tried.” Which she had, at least at first.

Not a minute later, Vanessa abandoned her conversation with A’keria and made her way over to Brooke’s side - the place she found most comfortable.

Brooke’s arm looped right around her. “Hey, Mami,” she hummed and leaned down to peck her lips.

“Imma steal you for a minute,” Vanessa took her hand and led her down the familiar trail, and they kept going until the generic pop music faded into the background.

At this point, it was no surprise to Brooke that they were back at the lake. But they had never caught a sunset quite like the one they approached. The sky was a near perfect gradient of warm colors, as if it were a scene on a postcard. It was almost too perfect, too picturesque to be real.

“I’m gonna miss this spot. Makes me want to get a cute little lake house, so we can have a view like this every day,” Brooke mused as she sat down.

Vanessa joined her, laying on her back and looking up at the sky. “Thought we was taking it slow. You already thinking about playing house?”

“What even is taking it slow for us? Our relationship doesn’t exactly make the best linear narrative sense.” Brooke laid down and held her hand. “Besides, it never hurts to dream.”

“Guess not.” She scooted closer, snuggling up to the taller girl’s side. “It is a real nice sight though. Like, I actually just wanna lay with you and enjoy it; we don’t even gotta fuck.”

Brooke snorted softly. “You don’t have to justify just wanting to cuddle, you know.”

“Yah-huh! I still got an image to uphold!”

“Okay, okay.” She held her close and kissed her cheek. “It’s just between you, me, and the lake.”

------

The next morning was pick-up day and Brooke Lynn was sat on a tree stump with Vanessa on her lap, their respective luggage on either side of it. The difference between their bags looked like a comically obvious representation of their different backgrounds – Brooke had a pristine designer set and Vanessa had a couple of beat up, hand-me-down duffel bags. It could have been the cover of a ‘princess and the pauper’ type of movie, easily.

“Who’re you waiting for, again?”

Brooke presses her lips into a fine line. She had hoped that maybe her parents would be the ones to come get her, just this once. “They’re sending a driver. His name’s Frank. Nice guy, worked for our family for like… fifteen years now.” As she spoke, she could see a Mercedes pull up and there was no guesswork needed as to whose ride it was.

She got up and gathered her things, making her way over with Vanessa in tow. “You sure your mom’s okay with this?”

“Uh-huh! Not every day you get a lift in a car that costs more than your apartment and all the fancy shit you got.” Vanessa chuckled, then offered a cheerful greeting when they approached the driver.

Frank looked between the girls with a perplexed – and somewhat amused – expression. “And who’s this, Miss Brooke?”

Brooke took Vanessa’s hand into her own, giving it a light squeeze. “This is Vanessa, my girlfriend. She’s going to spend the rest of the summer with us.”

The man quirked his brow, but began loading both of their bags into the trunk. “And your parents are okay with this… arrangement?” He wasn’t one to question Brooke – she was a pretty easygoing client as far as they go, but it was still the grown Hytes that signed his paychecks.

Brooke shrugged as she got in the car and ushered Vanessa (who was still floating on the high of hearing the word ‘girlfriend’) with her. “They’ll get over it.”

[jaeminhours]

Hostage | Part One

SUMMARY | You fall in love with a boy you shouldn’t, and everything has consequences. In which you discover a new world, and in the process, fall in love with the boy in the leather jacket.

Read Part Two here!

PAIRING | na jaemin x reader, lee jeno x reader

CATEGORY | Gang (?) au, highschool!au, angst

WORD COUNT | 7.6k

WARNINGS | mentions of drugs, violence, character death

SONG REC | hostage - Billie Eilish

You’d never fallen in love before. In any case, you thought that it was far too early for you to fall in love. You were only in your junior year of high school, having just turned seventeen. It’s the same thing your parents had always told you, and the same thing you had always heard from your friends: high school boys are reckless and crazy, and falling in love so young never means anything. It’s too bad you didn’t listen.

The high school you attended was larger than most, and within, the student population was heavily divided between those who were wealthy and those who were poor. You were better off than most, and for the most part enjoyed a privileged life, thanks to your parents’ money. South Side High School was notorious for having multiple gangs in the area, and you were almost certain that several of your classmates were members. However, you had decided long ago that you would stay out trouble and pay no attention to mere rumors, instead opting to focus on your studies. Your life was calm, content, and safe. You had a small group of friends, but your best friends were Chaewon and Mark, who was a senior. Just like you, both of them were wealthier, got good grades, and were overall responsible students. They were the good kids at South Side. You were one of the good kids at South Side.

That’s why you were surprised, Monday morning, when Na Jaemin took a seat at the desk next to yours at the beginning of your shared math class. You ignored him, pulling your pencils and pens out of your pencil pouch and opening your notebook to where you had left off from your lecture last class. He didn’t say anything either, but you could see him watching you from the corner of your eye.

“You know you can’t sit there, right?” you said, zipping up your pencil pouch and tidying your things. “Mina sits there.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind,” he replied.

You turned to meet his eyes. If there was one word to describe Na Jaemin in relation to yourself, it was opposite. You and Jaemin were different people, with different backgrounds and different lives. Jaemin wasn’t wealthy like you, you knew. He even dressed differently, with ripped black jeans and leather jackets, pierced ears that were clearly against school dress regulations, a clear contrast next to your plaid skirt and white blouse. The times when you and Jaemin played on your bedroom floor and swung on the swingset in your neighborhood park seemed like centuries ago. You and Jaemin had been childhood friends, but you had grown apart, and grown up after his mother died.

“What do you want, Jaemin?”

He smirked. “Do I need a reason to talk to a pretty girl?”

You frowned, and turned away from him, determined to keep your eyes on the board.

“Okay, fine,” he said. “I need a tutor. No, don’t look at me like that, you have to. Mr. Moon said you could tutor me since I’m failing and I need to pass this class.”

You were gaping at him. “Mr. Moon said what?”

“I’m not lying, you can ask him.”

Your heart pounding, you turned to look at Mr. Moon at the front of the class. He was already looking, smiling encouragingly.

“He said he’ll sign it off as community service hours for honor society if you do it,” Jaemin offered.

You were still hesitant. You didn’t hang out with people like Na Jaemin. Somehow, you could sense that if you did agree to tutor him, it wouldn’t end well for you.

“Y/N,” You were startled by Jaemin saying your name, meeting his eyes once again. “Y/N, please. I know we have our differences, but I really need to pass this class.”

You cursed yourself mentally. You were being selfish. Jaemin wanting to get a good grade could only be a good thing, right?

“Okay, fine.”

Jaemin looked surprised. “Oh, okay! When should we meet?”

“Tuesdays and Thursdays, after school, in the library. Does that work for you?”

He grinned. “Of course. Can’t wait, Y/N.”

“Don’t be late,” you warned. “I’ll leave.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You couldn’t stop thinking about Jaemin for the rest of the day. Your heart ached when you realized that the last time you had talked to him had been ten years ago. Then again, he wasn’t the sweet little boy you used to know. These days, he spent his time with a group of boys known for breaking hearts, rules, and windows. He hung out mostly with Lee Donghyuck, Park Jisung, and a couple older senior boys you didn’t know the names of. You were also pretty sure you’d seen him hang out with boys that had already graduated outside of school, making you suspicious about what he was doing with them. It wasn’t exactly a secret that they were part of the wrong crowd in your city. Even your father had told you to stay away from them.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N? Are you in there?” Chaewon’s voice broke you out of your daze, flinching away from the milk carton she was waving in front of your face.

“Oh, you’re awake,” she said dryly. “Are going to eat that?” She pointed to the untouched cookie on your lunch tray.

“No, you can have it,” you said, pushing it towards her.

“Thanks. What’s got you so deep in thought?” she said while taking a bite.

“Na Jaemin talked to me today.”

Chaewon’s eye widened, choking on the cookie. “Who? Did he really?”

“I’m tutoring him on Tuesdays and Thursdays now.”

Chaewon opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Mark sitting down across from you.

“What’s up?” he said, setting his tray down on the table.

“Y/N’s tutoring Na Jaemin!” Chaewon blurted out.

Mark looked similarly shocked. “Whoa, really?”

“Can you guys chill? It’s not that big of a deal.”

You were surprised to see that Mark looked almost concerned. “Y/N… you shouldn’t associate with them. They’re not good people.”

You frowned at that. Sure you didn’t really want to tangled up with Jaemin and his friends and yes, they did do some questionable things, but you didn’t think they were bad people, necessarily. They were just teenagers. You chose to ignore Mark’s tone and rolled your eyes. “I’m just tutoring him, I promise, Mark. Plus, Mr. Moon is giving me hours for it.”

“Oh!” Chaewon exclaimed. “That’s nice, isn’t it, Mark?”

Mark didn’t reply, watching you with darkened eyes.

You felt uncomfortable, so you stood up. “I’m going to go to class early. I… have a quiz in history.”

With that, you left and headed to your classroom. When you got there, you were surprised to see your deskmate, Lee Jeno, already sitting there, sleeping with his head on the desk and his hood up. You made your way over, brushing past him to get to your seat by the window. He woke up, his hood sliding down as he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He flashed you a bright smile, and your heart fluttered a little.

“Hey, Y/N. You’re here early today.”

Jeno was one of Mark’s other friends, part of the obscure group he often hung out with but never introduced you to. Other than Mark, Jeno mostly hung out with Huang Renjun and Zhong Chenle. They seemed like good students, rarely getting in trouble, but sometimes you still got a bad feeling from them. You liked Jeno, though. He was almost, but not quite, a friend.

“Hey, Jeno,” you said, smiling back. “Mark was being weird so I came to class early.”

“Oh,” Jeno frowned a little. “About Jaemin?”

Your eyes widened. “Yes, actually. How did you know?”

“I’m in your math class, Y/N. I saw you talking to him.”

“Oh,” You felt your ears burn. You’d forgotten Jeno was also in your math class.

Jeno didn’t seem to care about that, though. “You shouldn’t hang out with Jaemin, you know.”

You raised a brow. “That’s what Mark said. What do you mean, Jeno?”

Jeno glowered. “He’s just… not a good person to be friends with. You shouldn’t get mixed up with his crowd.”

“I think maybe you and Mark don’t actually know Jaemin enough to judge him so harshly,” you said, scowling back.

Jeno’s face softened. “Just be careful, okay?” he murmured. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of him.”

You opened your mouth to reply, confused, but you were interrupted by the sound of the bell. Jeno turned away, leaving you to wonder what he had meant.

Tuesday came quickly, and with it your tutoring session with Jaemin. Jaemin showed up in class with a black eye and bruised cheekbone, once again taking a seat next to you. He had talked to you, and you indulged him, ending up actually enjoying the conversation, as you avoided Jeno’s gaze. At the end of class, Jaemin had bid you farewell and said to meet him in the library after school for his tutoring. And that’s where you were now, waiting for Jaemin to arrive.

He came a couple minutes after you, sliding into the seat adjacent to you and spreading his supplies on the table. He flashed you a wide smile, and your heart fluttered again.

Stop doing that.

“What happened to your face?” you asked.

“Ah, this?” he said, his fingers lighting upon the bruise that adorned his face. “I may have gotten into a little fight.”

“With who?”

“Ah,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can tell you that. I think if I did, I might die.”

You frowned. He looked like he was joking, but his words and voice were serious. Your mind flashed back to what Jeno had said to you.

Just be careful, okay?

I don’t want you to get hurt because of him.

You shook the thoughts away, and handed Jaemin the problems you had written out for him to solve. “Try solving these so I know what you already understand.”

You and Jaemin worked silently, only talking when he needed help on a problem or a concept. When he finished, he leaned back in his chair, cracking his back. You winced at the sound, and glanced outside. It was nearing winter, and it was getting darker earlier. The only light in the library was provided by the dim lamps that hung above each table, and by there was only a couple students other than you and Jaemin that remained.

“Y/N, why aren’t we friends anymore?”

The question surprised you. “I guess we just grew apart, Jaemin. We were really young.”

“Do you think we could be friends again?”

You looked at him, and his sincere expression, bruises on his face, and your heart fluttered. In that moment, he looked young and innocent. Nothing like the bad boy your peers had designated him as. Why weren’t you friends anymore? Why couldn’t you be friends again? His eyes were wide and his lips slightly parted, waiting for your answer.

“Uh, yeah, I guess. I don’t see why not.”

Jaemin’s smile blinded you, and your breath hitched as he leaned closer.

“I really missed you, Y/N.”

You tried to remember to breathe, and then snapped yourself out of it, packing up your stuff. “It’s late,” you said. “We should get going.”

Jaemin nodded. “Do you have a ride?”

“I was just going to walk.”   

Jaemin zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “I’ll walk you home.”

You blushed. “You don’t have to, Jaemin.”

“I want to, though,” he said, pouting.

You hesitated. Mark lived across from you, and you were worried about what he would say if he saw the two of you together.

But in the end, your heart won over your brain, and you gave in.

“Okay,” you said, nodding. “Let’s go.”

The walk home was long and filled with tension. Well, your tension, because Jaemin seemed completely at ease. He walked close to you, your sides brushing as he talked about his friends out of school, Ten, Taeyong, and a couple others whose names escaped you. Suddenly, you were reminded of something.

“Jaemin, do you know why Mark told me not to hang out with you?” you asked.

He stopped walking, and you stopped to face him too. You were afraid that you had offended him until you realized that he was laughing.

“Did he really?” he choked out. “He’s one to talk.”

You were confused. “Jeno said the same thing.”

Jaemin suddenly stopped laughing. “Listen, Y/N. Don’t listen to everything they tell you. Mark isn’t who you think he is.”

“Jaemin, what? What do you mean?” You were getting increasingly confused. The past two days had been chaotic, and you felt like everyone else knew something you didn’t.

“I just want to make sure you don’t look at just one side of a story. Don’t take everything they say for granted, because I can assure you that I could tell you the same thing about them.”

“Jaemin,” you said slowly, “what don’t I know?”

He sighed. “I’m sorry, I don’t know if it’s my place to tell you just yet. Just… forget I said anything.”

He started walking again, and you trailed after him. You walked in silence, until suddenly Jaemin reached down and clasped your hand in his own. Startled, you looked up at him.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” he whispered, staring straight ahead. “It’ll be alright.”

You didn’t know what was wrong, but the warmth of Jaemin’s hand reassured you. You smiled to yourself, and gripped his hand a little tighter.

“Mark’s kinda pissed, by the way.”

It was Wednesday, the day after your first tutoring session with Jaemin. He had dropped you off at your doorstep, smiled at you, and then disappeared into the darkness. The memory of his fingers intertwined with yours was still vivid in your mind, and you  kept blushed just thinking about it. Jeno had spoken, and was staring at you expectantly.

“Why’s that?” you said, nonchalantly.

Jeno’s gaze was sharp. “He said he saw you with Jaemin last night.”

You gulped. “So? I told him I was tutoring Jaemin. He doesn’t have any reason--or right, mind you--to be pissed.”

“He said you were holding hands.”

You didn’t answer that.

“Look, Y/N, you might think it’s not any of my business, and it probably isn’t, but I’m just trying to warn you. You and Jaemin. It’s better for both of you if Mark stays calm.”

“Why do people keep talking about Mark like I don’t something about him? What don’t I know?”

Jeno took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Please forget I said anything.”

You nodded, but didn’t say anything.

Jeno took that as an opportunity to move on. “There’s this party. It’s in a month, Yuta likes to plan things early, but I was wondering if maybe you’d want to come with me?”

You recognized the name. Yuta had graduated when you were a freshman but had stuck around, and was notorious for throwing parties that begged for a visit from the cops. But something at the back of your mind convinced you not to reject him.

“Okay,” you said. “Sure.”

Jeno’s eyes widened. “Really? I didn’t expect you to say yes.”

“Neither did I,” you admitted. “But I’ll go.”

“Great!” he said, smiling. “I’ll pick you up at seven then, if you don’t mind?”

He pulled out a sticky note and scribbled something on it, passing it over to you. “Here’s my number. Send me your address when you get home tonight.”

“Okay,” you said, smiling. “Can’t wait.”

Throughout the rest of the month, you and Jaemin got closer. He was sweet, and cute, and funny, and gentle. He was everything you remembered him to be from when you were kids. And you had no idea why Mark seemed to hate him so much. All you knew was that whenever you were around him your heart fluttered and you felt like you could hardly breathe. Maybe it was too fast, but you thought you might like Na Jaemin.

However, when he showed up to school covered in bruises on Friday, the day of the party, you started think there really was something serious going on. He slid into his seat next to you in math, his hood up and his eyes bloodshot.

“Oh my god, Jaemin. What happened?” you hissed, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him to face you. “Oh my god, are you okay? Who did this?”

Jaemin’s eyes flashed to the corner of the room, and you noticed Jeno watching the both of you. “Listen,” he said under his breath. “I’m fine, but I don’t think you should tutor me anymore.”

“Wait, what?”

Jaemin wouldn’t meet your eyes. “Look, I’m passing now, thanks to you. I don’t need to be tutored anymore. In fact, I don’t think we should hang out anymore.”

You were shocked, and you felt your heart ache. “What?” you whispered softly.

Jaemin looked pained. “I’m so sorry. But I can’t.” He stood up, gathered his things, and walked out of class without sparing you a glance.

You met Jeno’s eyes, noticing that he was still watching. For a second, you almost thought he looked guilty.

As class ended, Jeno stopped at your desk his fingers resting on the doodle of a cat that Jaemin had etched into the wood.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said, smiling softly, as if he were afraid you might break.

“Yeah,” you answered, your head whirling. “See you tonight.”

You couldn’t deny that Jeno looked handsome when he picked you up that night. He wore ripped black jeans and a pristine white t-shirt, his black hair parted to show his forehead. He opened the car door for you, smiling brightly as you thanked him.

“Are you excited?” he asked once he started driving.

“Yeah, it’s actually my first party.”

He laughed. “No way!”

You could feel your face flush. “Yeah. Parties aren’t usually my thing.”

Jeno smiled, glancing at you. “Well, I’m glad I get the honor of accompanying you to your first party.”

For some reason, that statement put a damper on your mood. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if Jaemin was the one taking you to this party.

Yuta’s house wasn’t as big as yours, but it still looked  pretty roomy. You could see the flash of purple lights from the porch of his house and hear the dull thud of of music coming from inside. Jeno rang the doorbell, and the door opened to reveal who you assumed to be Nakamoto Yuta. He was blonde, with several piercings in his left ear but was otherwise very clean cut. He wore a black t-shirt and cuffed blue jeans with vans, and a bright smile adorned his face.

“You must be Y/N,” he said, reaching out to shake your hand. “Come in.”

The inside was chaotic. People held red plastic cups in their hands as they danced, liquid splashing onto the hardwood floor, but Yuta didn’t seem to mind. You could barely hear him over the music.

“Drinks are in the kitchen,” he yelled over the music. “Try not to get too shit-faced.” With that, he left, leaving you and Jeno to yourselves.

“Are you going to drink tonight?” you asked him, wide-eyed.

He laughed, and shook his head. “I have to drive you home, remember? Are you?”

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea to get drunk at my first party.”

Jeno nodded in understanding. It took you a moment, but as you studied his face your realized he was blushing.

“Are you okay?” you asked, laughing. “Your ears are red.”

He blushed even harder. “Yeah, I was just wondering if maybe you’d want to dance? With me?”

You smiled. “Sure, Jeno.”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the dance floor, but before he could, he was stopped by the reappearance of Yuta. He looked concerned, grabbing Jeno’s shoulder and whispering in his ear. Jeno’s smile disappeared, and he turned to you, releasing your hand.

“Y/N, I have to go, but I’ll be right back as soon as I’m done, I promise.” he said, looking into your eyes.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you need to do?”

Yuta gripped Jeno’s shoulder tighter. “Uh, I’ll tell you later. Take care, don’t drink anything anyone gives you while I’m gone.” He disappeared into the crowd of people, trailing behind Yuta.

You were confused, and now you were alone, in a stranger’s house with strange people and no one to guide you through the mechanics of your first party. The music pounded at your ears, loud and unforgiving, making your head throb. You desperately needed to get somewhere quiet. Pushing through people, you ran into the first room you could find, closing the door behind you and shutting your eyes in relief.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes flew open, only to be met with the figure of none other than Na Jaemin, holding a red cup in his hand and looking at you with concern. He placed the cup on the floor.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded quickly. “Are you?” you said, thinking back to that morning’s events.

Jaemin gulped. “I’m sorry, about that. I didn’t want to be like that towards you. It’s just… Jeno was watching, and I really need to watch how I act with you around Mark’s people.”

You could feel something click into place. “Jaemin,” you said, lowly. “did Mark’s ‘people’ do that to you?” You gestured to his face.

You had walked over to him. He leaned against the bed frame, staring into your eyes. “Yes,” he whispered. You brought your hand up to his face, tracing your fingers down his cheek.

“Why?” you choked out, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

Why would Mark do something like this?

Why would he hurt Jaemin?

“Mark and his friends, they don’t get along with me and my friends. This happens more often than you think.”

“Why?” It seemed like that word was the only thing you were capable of saying. “Are you involved with something bad? Is Mark involved in something bad?”

Jaemin broke your eye contact, looking at the floor. “Yes,” he said, softly. “I guess I should tell you.” “Yeah, I think you should.”

He inhaled, his chest rising with a tremulous breath before he looked you in the eyes again. “We sell stuff,” he said. Your eyes widened. “None of the really hard stuff,” he said quickly. “Just like, weed, cocaine, other stuff. Mark does the same stuff, you know. He sees us as a threat, and makes our lives miserable because of it. He doesn’t even need the money.” His voice was hard, stone-cold.

“Cocaine isn’t exactly soft, Jaemin. What the fuck?”

“I don’t use any of it,” he said. “I just… need the money, the same as the rest of the boys.”

“The rest of the boys?” you asked.

“Yeah. Donghyuck and Jisung, Taeyong and Ten, that group.”

“Does Mark have… other people?” you said, fearing the answer.

Jaemin nodded. “Yeah. Renjun, Chenle, Yuta, and others. And Jeno.”

Your breath hitched. “Jeno?”

He nodded, shuffling his feet as he leaned against the bedpost.

“Why did they beat you up?” you said.

“Because of you. Because we were hanging out, and Mark didn’t like you getting close to me.”

A tear rolled down your cheek. “I’m so sorry, Jaemin.”

He shook his head, placing his hands on your arms. “It’s okay, it’s my fault.”

Another tear escaped. “No it’s not! They’re hurting you because of me!”

“And they can keep hurting me,” he said, wiping a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “A few bruises can’t stop me from liking you, Y/N.”

You stopped sniffling. “You like me?”

He laughed. “I thought it was obvious,” he said. You noticed he was crying now, too.

“I really, really like you. I always have,” he whispered, and then, with his hand still on your cheeks, he leaned down and kissed you. You gasped, tears still rolling down the both of yours and Jaemin’s cheeks. You leaned into the kiss, reaching a hand up to grip at his shirt while the other one rested at the back of his neck. He kissed you, and you could taste the salt of his tears on his lips, though you’d stopped crying.

He peppered soft kisses along your jaw, moving one hand down to your waist while the other one rested on your neck. You pulled him back into the kiss, your hands now on his cheeks. His lips were soft, and tasted like peach chapstick.

You were interrupted by a flood of light as the door opened. You separated, your hands dropping to Jaemin’s arms as you blinked against the harsh light.

It was Mark. He stood in the doorway, his fists clenched by his sides and anger evident on his face. Jeno and Yuta stood behind him. Jeno kept glancing between you and Jaemin and Mark, worry etched into his face. Yuta closed the door behind them.

Jaemin pulled you behind him as Mark surged forward. “I told you to stay away from her!” he said, throwing a punch. His fist landed square on Jaemin’s jaw, and you screamed.

“Mark, stop!”

He didn’t.

“Mark, please!”

Jaemin was on the floor as Mark crouched over him, flinging his fists at him as Jaemin tried to shield himself with his arms. You grabbed Mark’s arm, desperately trying to pull him away from Jaemin, but you were met with an elbow to your cheekbone. You fell to the floor, exclaiming in pain. Jeno ran to your side, and Mark stopped hitting Jaemin, standing up and looking only a little guilty.

“Mark…” Jeno said, brushing the blooming bruise on your cheek where Mark had hit you. You slapped his hand away, glaring, and stood up, rushing to Jaemin’s side. You were crying again.

“Get out!” you screamed, shoving Mark in the chest. “Go away!”

Jeno put his hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Mark, let’s just go.”

Mark flung his hand off. “He shouldn’t be here. He’s asking for a beating by just stepping a foot onto one of our properties!”

Yuta stepped up to Mark. “Mark,” he said quietly. “It’s okay, let’s just go.”

Mark glared at the both of you. “This isn’t over,” he warned Jaemin, then walked out, Jeno and Yuta trailing after him. As soon as you heard the door click shut, you crouched down by Jaemin. He sat  up, leaning against the bed frame as he groaned in pain.

He cracked an eye open at you, and smiled. “Worth it.”

You slapped his arm, tears still streaming down your face.

His smile fell, and he leaned up to cradle your face in his hands. “Hey,” he murmured, “it’s okay, I’ve had worse, I promise. Don’t cry.”

“That isn’t comforting,” you sniffled. His lip was cut, and blood trickled out of his mouth.

“Did you drive here?” you asked.

He nodded.

“Come on,” you said, pulling him to his feet. “I’ll drive you to your house and we can fix you up.”

He nodded again. “Thank you,” he said.

You grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the house and ignoring the stares of everyone else in the house. He pointed out his car and handed you his keys, quiet as you pushed him into the passenger’s seat and started the ignition.

“I didn’t know you could drive,” he murmured, resting his eyes. “I’ve never seen you drive to school or anything.”

“Well,” you said. “That’s probably because, technically, I can’t drive.”

His eyes flew open. “Wait, what?”

You were already driving. “I mean I can drive? I took the class and everything. I just might not have my license yet?”

He stared at you. “Stop. Pull over. I’m driving.”

You gripped the wheel tighter. “Absolutely not. You’re hurt, and drunk. Plus, I know where you live. It’s fine.” He smiled. “You remember where I live?”

You blushed. “Of course. How could I forget?”

The rest of the drive was quiet, only the sound of Jaemin’s breathing as he struggled to stay awake disturbing the silence.

You pulled up to his house, and he unlocked the door with his house key, beckoning you inside.

You led you to his room, and pulled a first aid kit out from underneath his bed. He sat down on his bed and you sat next to him, pulling out antiseptic wipe and bandages.

“It’s just a split lip,” Jaemin said, laughing.

“You also have a cut on your cheek,” you replied, pointing to the area. “I don’t want it to get infected.”

He rolled his eyes, but let you work on the cuts with the wipe. Blushing, you dabbed at the cut on his lip. Jaemin smirked, and leaned down to kiss you. This time, his lips tasted like blood and antiseptic, and you cringed.

You pulled away from him, licking your lips. “Jaemin, why do you do this? Why do you choose to sell drugs? Why do you continue to fight with Mark?”

“I need the money,” he said quietly. “We need the money. It’s not a choice.”

“Can’t you get out of this?” you begged. “I can give you money, you could get a job! Just… don’t do this anymore.”

Jaemin’s eyes hardened. “I’m not taking your money, Y/N. My friends need me, I’m not abandoning them.” His voice was sharp, and cold. “I can’t get out of this,” he whispered, and his face softened.

You pulled him into a hug, and you could feel him crumble, hear his sniffles as he held back tears.

“It’s okay, Jaemin,” you whispered. “No matter what you do, I’ll be there for you.”

You stuck to your promise, and you stayed by him for the next few months. Mark didn’t hang out with you as much, leaving you with Chaewon, but you still tried to keep your relationship with Jaemin out of his sight. You became friends with some of the other boys Jaemin hung out with, Donghyuck and Jisung. You and Donghyuck weren’t that close, and he tended to make you a little uncomfortable, but you treasured Jisung. He was only a freshman, and had just recently turned fifteen. You hung out mostly at Jaemin’s house, since his dad was barely home. Right now, you sat on Jaemin’s bed, reading a comic book he had left on his bedside table, and waiting for him to get out of the shower.

When he finally walked out of the bathroom, like always, your heart skipped a beat. His hair was damp and messy from the shower, and a towel hung around his shoulders. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and old sweatpants, an ensemble that you thought only Jaemin could make look like it was fit for the runway. A bruise on his cheekbone and a bandaid on his forehead decorated his otherwise perfect face, a reminder of a job gone wrong last week. He climbed over you, his towel falling on the floor as he pulled the covers over himself, snuggling up to you. You put the book back on his night stand and turned to face him. Jaemin threw an arm over your waist and pulled you closer, until your head rested under his chin. You wrapped your arms around him and listened to the dull thud of his heartbeat. He sighed in contentment, your legs tangled together underneath the sheets.

“This is perfect,” he said, nudging the top of your head with his chin. “I wish that we could stay like this forever.”

You hummed in agreement, hugging him tighter. The warmth of Jaemin’s body through his thin cotton t-shirt began lulling you to sleep.

“Y/N,” Jaemin said suddenly. “Do you believe in happy endings?”

You snuggled deeper into his chest. “Sure I do,” you answered. “I think everyone gets their happy ending, in one way or another.”

“Do you think I’ll get a happy ending?”

You ran your fingers lightly up and down his side. “Of course. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Y/N, I think you’re my happy ending.”

You giggled, and pressed your face into his neck, inhaling his scent, which smelled of strawberries.

Soon, your eyelids began to droop, sleep pulling at you once again as your breathing deepened.

“I think I’m in love with you,” Jaemin whispered.

But you were already asleep.

After a few months of peace with Jaemin, things started to take a turn for the worse again. Or at least, you felt like things were about to take a turn for the worse. Mark was smiling at you in the halls again. At first you thought that maybe Mark had decided to be the better person, that he had decided to let go of his prejudice against Jaemin and his friends and accept that you were friends with him. But at the sight of Jeno’s sullen, almost guilt-ridden face when he, Mark, and Renjun stopped by your table one day at lunch, your heart seized with worry.

“Hey, Y/N,” Mark said, his teeth showing in a twisted grin. You didn’t say anything, just staring up at him with confusion etched into your face.

Mark took your silence as a sign to continue. “I just wanted to let you know that things will be better soon. This time next week, we’ll all be able to be friends again and our relationship with Na Jaemin won’t be a problem anymore.”

His tone was light but insincere, and his words were threatening. Fear crawled at your throat.

“What do you mean?” you asked frantically, but Mark was already walking away. “Mark? Mark, what are you going to do?”

Jeno casts a guilty look over his shoulder, before following Mark and Renjun out of the cafeteria.

Chaewon nudged your arm. “Y/N, what was that about?” she said, looking concerned.

Chaewon knew enough to understand that Mark hated Jaemin, and that it had led to you and Mark falling out. She also knew that you and Jaemin were together, which was something only a few people actually knew but also something the whole school suspected, although she was the only person who knew how deep your feelings for him ran. She didn’t know the details though, and you planned to keep it that way.

“I don’t know,” you said, shaking your head. You didn’t know why you were so concerned, but something about the way Mark had spoken made you feel sick to your stomach.

The feeling in your stomach remained there for the rest of the day, and you grew more restless after each passing hour, eager to find Jaemin after school. As soon as the bell rang, you rushed out of the classroom, ignoring the stares of your peers and searching anxiously for the sight of Jaemin’s golden brown hair amidst to flooded hallways. As soon as you caught sight of him, your worries melted away, a smile alighting on your face as he waved at you.

“Hey,” he said, grinning as you ran up to him.

“Hey,” you replied, and tugged on his ear with your fingers, something that you’d taken a liking to after he had stopped wearing his piercings. He grabbed your hand and led you out of the school, beginning the walk to your house. This was a common occurrence, since Jaemin liked to make sure you got home safely everyday. You didn’t know how to tell him that just holding his hand already made you feel like you were home.

“Anything interesting happen today?” you asked, swinging your joined hands.

“Actually, yeah,” Jaemin said, the hopeful beginnings of a smile on his lips. “Mark talked to me today. Without his fists.”

You froze, the day’s earlier events crashing through you as you registered his words. “What did he say to you?” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jaemin turned, holding your hands in his as he leaned to meet your eyes. “He said he wants to figure things out, Y/N. Mend things, stop fighting. Find a way to split our deals without anymore fights.” Jaemin sounded excited, but you still felt the remnants of dread in the pit of your stomach.

“But why would he do that, Jaemin?” you said, searching his face. “Think about it. He talked to me earlier, too, and I really didn’t get a good feeling from it.”

Jaemin’s eyes bored into your own, his gaze pleading. “Y/N, think about what this means for me. For us. No more fights, no more bruises. No more patching me up after deals. No more patching Jisung up.”

You were still uncertain, but Jaemin continued.

“If we can find a way to split up the deals, I could make more money. I could even get out of this whole mess, eventually, if I saved up. I get all of us out of this, all of the boys.” Jaemin had a far away look in his eyes, almost dreamy, and it cracked at your shell. “Mark is probably tired of fighting too, you know. I’m not the only one getting hurt, and you’re one of his best friends. He even told me he wanted us to all get along.”

When you thought of it that way, Mark’s words made sense. Maybe he hadn’t meant them maliciously, after all.

“So,” you said, “what does he want to do?”

“We’re meeting up, everyone, at that old abandoned barn near my neighborhood to negotiate this Sunday.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Everyone?”

“Almost everyone, I guess,” Jaemin said. “I’m taking Jisung, Donghyuck, Taeyong, and Jaehyun with me. And Mark will probably take Jeno, Renjun, Chenle, Yuta, and Sicheng with him.”

You frowned. “I’m coming with you then.”

Jaemin shook his head, almost violently. “No, no way. I can’t do that to you.”

“If you’re so sure that nobody’s going to get hurt, then why shouldn’t I come?” you reasoned.

Jaemin looked uncomfortable, reluctant. “You’re right,” he said, sighing. “Just… be careful. Stay close to me, just in case.”

You nodded in agreement. “Okay. As long as you don’t do anything stupid.”

Jaemin laughed, slinging an arm around your waist and dragging you closer to him as you started walking again. When he dropped you off at your house, he stopped at your doorway. He grabbed your cheeks and kissed you, you hands twisting in the fabric of his t-shirt as he smiled against your kiss. He pressed a few more gentle kisses to your lips before he left, blowing you a kiss as he walked back down the street. You touched your lips with your fingers, smiling to yourself at the memory of Jaemin’s lips, his skin hot against yours. As you climbed up the stairs to your bedroom and flopped onto your bed, your mind wandered back to Jaemin’s words.

Y/N, I think you’re my happy ending.

You didn’t think your ending was anytime soon, but you did know that when it came, you hoped Na Jaemin was in it.

Sunday came quickly, and your nerves only worsened as the day arrived. Jaemin texted you that morning, telling you he’d pick you up with the rest of the boys at nine and instructing you to wear darker colors. You wore all black, tight black jeans and black converse high tops, as well as your favorite black hoodie. When you looked in the mirror, you thought you almost looked like one of them.

Jaemin picked you up exactly at nine, Jisung, Donghyuck, Taeyong, and Jaehyun smushed together gracelessly in the back of Jaemin’s old car. You laughed as you climbed into the passenger seat, and Jisung stuck his tongue out at you, only to be elbowed in the forehead by Donghyuck, who sat in his lap. As Jaemin started driving, he clasped your hand with his free hand, gently rubbing your knuckles with his thumb, his lips turning up in a small smile as he watched the road.

The barn where you were supposed to meet was old, and looked as if it was on the verge of collapse. It sat separated from the rest of Jaemin’s neighborhood, but the line of houses was still in sight. The grass was brown, brittle, and dead, but the moon shone bright overhead, casting a silver light upon your faces. The wide doors of the barn were wide open, hanging loosely on its frame, the hinges on their last legs. Golden light spilled out of the inside, but there was no one inside just yet. The five of you filed in and waited for Mark to show up. You sat on the dusty floor of the barn with Jaemin and Jisung, while the rest of the boys remained standing.

“They’re late,” Jaemin grumbled.

You opened your mouth to reply, but you were interrupted by Mark’s arrival.

“Sorry, Jaemin,” Mark said, smirking. “Someone was making trouble.”

Jeno trailed behind him, avoiding your eyes. True to his word, Mark had brought Jeno, Chenle, Renjun, Yuta, and Sicheng with him. But something didn’t feel right. Mark’s gaze was predatory. He stopped in the middle of the barn, but the other boys didn’t. Jeno strode towards you, and you tried to dodge, your gut telling you something was wrong, but Jeno was faster and stronger than you. He twisted your arms behind you with one hand, while the other one lay across your collarbone, effectively stopping any movement. The same things had happened with the other boys, within seconds. Renjun and Chenle both held Taeyong, while Yuta held Jaehyun and Sicheng had trapped Taeyong. Panic flared through your body.

What was going on?

You had cried out from the pain of Jeno’s grip on your wrists, and Jaemin was staring at you in surprise and horror. 

“What’s going on?” he demanded, turning to Mark. “Let her go!”

“You know, Jaemin,” Mark started, pacing back and forth in front of Jaemin. “I didn’t expect you to bring her, but maybe it’s for the best. Maybe she needs to see this.”

And then Mark threw a punch.

His fist hit Jaemin square in the jaw, and he stumbled back, clutching his face in pain. Mark didn’t give him a chance to react, and threw himself at him, fists flying.

You screamed, and struggled against Jeno, and he let go of your wrists, only to wrap his arms around your middle, holding you back.

“No!”

No.

“No! Mark, stop! Please!”

Please stop.

“Jaemin!”

Jaemin.

Mark was relentless, standing up to kick Jaemin in the stomach. A scream ripped from your throat as Mark’s foot collided harshly with Jaemin’s head.

You were sobbing, begging for Jeno to let you go, to go to Jaemin, but he wouldn’t let go.

You could vaguely hear Jeno responding, telling you, “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, I can’t.” He might have even been crying.

Jaemin could barely move, writhing on the ground in pain and gasping for breath. The sight pained you and you cried even harder. Mark didn’t stop for what felt like hours, although you knew it could have only been minutes at the most. Jaemin was broken and bloody by the time Mark finally stopped. But it wasn’t over.

Mark walked away, laughing as he turned around and waited for Jaemin to move. He wiped his bloody hand on his shirt, leaving a trail of red against the material.

Jaemin struggled to stand up, coughing blood as he gasped for air. A cry strangled itself out of your throat, and he managed to spare a quick glance at your tear-stained face. You almost thought you saw him smile.

Mark raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Yes?” he said, shrugging his shoulders and holding his hands up as if to say, “What are you going to do now?”

“Fuck you.”

Mark’s eyes flashed. He picked up a steel bat that rested on the floor next to the wall of the barn, and then swung it directly at Jaemin’s head.

All the breath left your body as Jaemin’s skull collided with the bat, as a crack rang out into the night air, as Jaemin’s body fell to the ground.

Everything was still.

Now it was you gasping for breath, cries falling from you as you tried to comprehend what had just happened.

Jaemin didn’t move.

Mark made a movement with his hand, and his friends let go of you and the others. Jeno’s arms slid off of you almost reluctantly as you dropped to the ground, your legs unable to sustain your weight anymore. Jisung and Donghyuck and the others didn’t fight back, they didn’t get angry. They just fell to their knees, tears streaming down their faces, shocked.

“Hyung,” Jisung choked out.

You barely registered that Jeno still lingered by the barn door, watching as you struggled to your feet and stumbled to Jaemin’s side.

You clutched the sides of his face, shaking him gently.

“Jaemin, wake up,” you sobbed. “Please wake up.”

He didn’t move.

You moved your head to his chest, listening for a heartbeat as sobs wracked your body.

There wasn’t one.

“No, no, no, no!” you cried. “No, wake up, please! You can’t!”

You felt someone tug your arm, then leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Y/N, we have to go. Mark called the cops.” You heard him choke back a sob. “We have to leave him.”

Jeno had left, but you didn’t notice.

You cried out, and ignored Taeyong. You cradled Jaemin’s head in your hands as you rocked back in forth, his blood staining your palms.

“Jaemin, I love you. Jaemin, I love you so, so much. Please wake up.”

He didn’t hear you.

He never would, because the boy you loved was dead.

Part One | Part Two | Epilogue

[artificialqueens]

Bad Girls Club (Branjie) Chapter 8 - Joley

A/N: I really can’t believe it’s done, you guys! Thank you all for your ongoing support and a special thanks to @artificialmeggie for being a fantastic beta ♥

Read on AO3

Brooke Lynn furrowed her brows when she woke up. Why was her bed smaller than usual? But then her eyes adjusted, and she realized Vanessa was sound asleep and nestled into her side. Ah yes, the limited space was well worth it. As it turned out, she had become quite accustomed to being confined to narrow spaces with the smaller girl, and it always worked in her favor. “You know what I just realized?”

Vanessa yawned and pushed the mess of hair off her face. “Hmm?”

“One of my fondest memories of our time here takes place in a supply closet. Can you imagine trying to explain that to someone?”

She laughed softly and buried her face into the crook of Brooke’s neck. “Ain’t no one gonna find out though.”

And sure, it would always be their little secret, but Brooke couldn’t help but picture the look on a classmate’s face if she confessed to her summertime endeavors. In an odd way, she was proud that she would be going home a changed girl, a well-rounded version of herself that no amount of voluntary extracurriculars would have ever been able to match. She had expected to awkwardly fly under the radar for the duration of the program - no confrontation, just keeping her head down and getting the job done.

“I don’t think there’s anything I could tell anyone that they would believe anyway.”

Vanessa snorted. “They’re gonna ask if you got shanked or tattooed or some shit, huh? They’ll be looking for a lil teardrop under your eye.” She poked her face where the tattoo would be, then kissed the spot of unmarked skin.

Brooke Lynn rolled her eyes and squeezed her lightly. “Baby, they don’t think I went to prison. Most of them don’t even know what the real story is, they think I’m a counselor at a camp for underprivileged youths.”

“I’m an underprivileged youth, it’s kinda true!”

And a lot of the girls in the program were in situations almost identical to Vanessa’s, or even worse. While Brooke had expected to be an outlier on campus, she could have never prepared herself for the stories she heard - abuse, neglect, poverty - and half the time the storyteller wouldn’t even bat an eye, in fact they sometimes appreciated the fact that she would sit and listen without insulting them. Or even worse, pity them.

Brooke sat up and pulled her hair into a ponytail. “I think that’s what I wanna do now, though. Like, I’ve always known how privileged I am, but actually having something to compare my life to really changes things, you know?”

Vanessa rolled to lay flat on her back, shifting her legs to trap Brooke between them. “Normally when I hear your type talk about trying to help my type out, it’s full of that bullshit white warrior complex.”

“White savior.”

“Whatever, same thing,” she huffed. “We’ve had rich white people come to the hood, click their tongues all ‘oh, poor baby’ like, maybe buy us lunch or a pair of sneakers, and walk away patting theyselves on their backs like they did us such a big favor. I seen the way you talk to the other girls, you actually give a fuck.”

Vanessa hated being patronized - though the actual word wouldn’t come to mind. There were times when wealthy folks would wander into the ‘bad part of town’ where she lived and just gawk at them like they were visiting the zoo. Sure, she would take the free meal if she were bored or hungry, but that didn’t mean she actually appreciated it.

But she appreciated Brooke, not just for seeing her humanity but seeing her as an equal. She knew it was something she should be able to expect from anyone, but that was unrealistic (not that anything about their current situation would sound especially realistic to an outsider). It was what made their relationship feel like more than just sex - they connected on some sort of deeper level that she had the unyielding desire to cling to.

And yet she had to put it in jeopardy one more time. “I need to tell you something. You know how I told you I got sent here over something dumb?”

Brooke’s brows knitted as she tried to recall. “It was like… weed and a fake ID, right?”

“That’s the story.” Vanessa looked down and sighed. “And it did happen a lot, but I got sent here ‘cause I was seeing this girl that actually had a boyfriend but kept jerking me around, so I TP’ed her house and hooked A’keria into it.” She spoke fast, just barely coherent, because the sooner she ripped off the bandage the better. “Just didn’t wanna seem crazy from day one.”

To Vanessa’s surprise, there wasn’t much of a reaction from Brooke. She shrugged, nonplussed. “That’s not so bad.” Her arms looped back around her waist and pulled her close. “I thought you were gonna say you tried to stab her or something.”

Vanessa elbowed her playfully. “You think I’m someone that could cut a bitch?”

“Baby, don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.”

——

Waiting for report cards was making the crowd of girls shift and bounce in anxious anticipation. They whispered to each other, speculating about their final grades and what it meant for their respective futures. The dining hall was full and the air was heavy with tension, as if everyone were holding their breath.

“Last names A through H come to the front to get your report cards.”

Brooke Lynn took a deep, unsteady breath as she got up and made her way towards the front of the hall.

“What are you nervous about?” A’keria asked, walking in time with her. “You know you’re gonna get a fuckin’…. quadruple A+.”

“I don’t know anything,” she retorted in a harsh whisper.

Bouncing on her heels as the secretary sorted through the cards and gave A’keria hers first, Brooke Lynn’s nerves didn’t quell for a moment. Grading wasn’t straightforward like it was at school - in fact, she didn’t actually know what the criteria was, even Nina wouldn’t give her a clear answer.

Once back at the table, both Scarlet and A’keria opened their cards first, both earning an impressive A-. “I told you they grade on a curve,” Scarlet laughed. “Open yours, Brookie, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“She’s just trying to be humble,” Yvie chimed in.

“It’s not like that, I swear,” Brooke insisted, cheeks tinting red. “I just don’t know how this shit works, okay?” But she did give in and opened the envelope and, without turning the page, simply said “Okay, it’s fine, let’s move on.”

“Nah, lemme see, boo.” Vanessa snatched the paper from her before the blonde had a chance to object. “Shit, Yvie was right, you just trying to spare our feelings or whatever.” She laughed, then clarified to the others, “A perfect score, no fucking surprise,” but then her expression changed and her demeanor quieted. “What, uh, happens if we don’t pass?”

Brooke Lynn shook her head and wrapped an arm around her. “You don’t even need to worry about that,” she assured, “you only need a C to pass. You can get a C, right?”

“I got 34 of ‘em, but then I take my bra off,” she couldn’t get any more of her concerns out before last names I through P were called and she had to march to her fate in a walk that seemed to take forever, and receiving the envelope only sent her heart racing into overdrive.

And she wasn’t feeling any relief by the time she returned to her seat, setting the envelope on the table in front of her and just staring at it. It almost seemed to mock her with its completely unassuming form.

“It’s not gonna go away just because you ain’t touching it,” A’keria pointed out.

Perhaps more reassuringly, Brooke kissed her forehead and hugged her tightly. “You got this, I know you do.”

Vanessa whined softly and hid against Brooke for another moment before finally accepting the inevitable. She stared at the page in unmoving silence for a beat, chewing on her lip.

“Well?”

Everyone’s eyes were trained on Vanessa, curiosity - and possibly concern - building as they watched her sit like a statue.

Then, with a sudden burst of emotion, she popped up with wide eyes. “I got a B!” she shrieked. With her voice loud and distinct by default, it was almost unsurprising that someone from another part of the hall shouted “Congrats, Vanessa!” in response.

But it didn’t even register to Vanessa. She had immediately thrown her arms around Brooke and hugged her close. Whether she would admit it or not, she was pretty sure she would not have achieved the same level of success without someone like Brooke, who knew how to study, what teachers wanted to hear, it was like having a set of cheat codes to education.

“Guess it’s really all over now, huh? Kinda wish they gave us yearbooks to sign or some shit,” A’keria mused when the excitement had died down. “What’s gonna happen with you two?” she gestured between Brooke Lynn and Vanessa.

The two girls untangled from each other and sat upright. “We’re still working out the details,” Brooke explained, rubbing the back of her neck. “But we’re optimistic.”

Optimism was all they had as everything was coming to an end. While they hadn’t officially labeled their relationship, they were optimistic that they could continue to have one. It would be complicated, it’d take effort, and they were both bound to face social repercussions one way or another. But they were optimistic it would be worth it.

And that was one of the many reasons they allowed themselves to relax and enjoy the end-of-summer celebration.

It was nothing extravagant – mainly pizza and snacks with music that consisted of an iPhone hooked up to a speaker. Still, it was a sign of good will and the teachers had organized it. Well, Nina and Monét did the vast majority of the work, but everyone else signed off on it.

“You know, I’m going to miss our lesbian den mothers,” Yvie remarked, glancing over at the two teachers who were watching the party with proud grins and linked arms. “I still can’t believe you guys hooked the two of them up.”

“Shit, me neither,” Brooke Lynn chuckled. There was no doubt that she would be bringing it up regularly once they were back at school.

“You’re lucky you get to see Ms. West at school, I don’t think anyone else has someone like that back home.”

She smiled fondly, even if the statement was bittersweet. “You’re right,” it was one of the few times she would admit as much. “Don’t know if I’d have gotten through this without her,” her gaze shifted to scan the scattering of girls dancing and mingling before settling. “Don’t know if I’d have gotten her.”

She swore there was something almost ethereal about Vanessa. The way the sun bounced off her skin, the way her wavy hair flowed, the way she could stand both elegantly but bursting with energy - she was special, and it made her feel at ease to know she wasn’t losing her.

“Here we go again,“ Yvie chuckled. “You really fell hook, line, and sinker for that crazy bitch, huh?” she asked, amused.

“Couldn’t have stopped myself if I tried.” Which she had, at least at first.

Not a minute later, Vanessa abandoned her conversation with A’keria and made her way over to Brooke’s side - the place she found most comfortable.

Brooke’s arm looped right around her. “Hey, Mami,” she hummed and leaned down to peck her lips.

“Imma steal you for a minute,” Vanessa took her hand and led her down the familiar trail, and they kept going until the generic pop music faded into the background.

At this point, it was no surprise to Brooke that they were back at the lake. But they had never caught a sunset quite like the one they approached. The sky was a near perfect gradient of warm colors, as if it were a scene on a postcard. It was almost too perfect, too picturesque to be real.

“I’m gonna miss this spot. Makes me want to get a cute little lake house, so we can have a view like this every day,” Brooke mused as she sat down.

Vanessa joined her, laying on her back and looking up at the sky. “Thought we was taking it slow. You already thinking about playing house?”

“What even is taking it slow for us? Our relationship doesn’t exactly make the best linear narrative sense.” Brooke laid down and held her hand. “Besides, it never hurts to dream.”

“Guess not.” She scooted closer, snuggling up to the taller girl’s side. “It is a real nice sight though. Like, I actually just wanna lay with you and enjoy it; we don’t even gotta fuck.”

Brooke snorted softly. “You don’t have to justify just wanting to cuddle, you know.”

“Yah-huh! I still got an image to uphold!”

“Okay, okay.” She held her close and kissed her cheek. “It’s just between you, me, and the lake.”

——

The next morning was pick-up day and Brooke Lynn was sat on a tree stump with Vanessa on her lap, their respective luggage on either side of it. The difference between their bags looked like a comically obvious representation of their different backgrounds – Brooke had a pristine designer set and Vanessa had a couple of beat up, hand-me-down duffel bags. It could have been the cover of a ‘princess and the pauper’ type of movie, easily.

“Who’re you waiting for, again?”

Brooke presses her lips into a fine line. She had hoped that maybe her parents would be the ones to come get her, just this once. “They’re sending a driver. His name’s Frank. Nice guy, worked for our family for like… fifteen years now.” As she spoke, she could see a Mercedes pull up and there was no guesswork needed as to whose ride it was.

She got up and gathered her things, making her way over with Vanessa in tow. “You sure your mom’s okay with this?”

“Uh-huh! Not every day you get a lift in a car that costs more than your apartment and all the fancy shit you got.” Vanessa chuckled, then offered a cheerful greeting when they approached the driver.

Frank looked between the girls with a perplexed – and somewhat amused – expression. “And who’s this, Miss Brooke?”

Brooke took Vanessa’s hand into her own, giving it a light squeeze. “This is Vanessa, my girlfriend. She’s going to spend the rest of the summer with us.”

The man quirked his brow, but began loading both of their bags into the trunk. “And your parents are okay with this… arrangement?” He wasn’t one to question Brooke – she was a pretty easygoing client as far as they go, but it was still the grown Hytes that signed his paychecks.

Brooke shrugged as she got in the car and ushered Vanessa (who was still floating on the high of hearing the word ‘girlfriend’) with her. “They’ll get over it.”

[gatesofember]

Frailty and Fortune: Chapter 2

PJO Arranged Marriage/Royalty AU Part 10

Rating: T | Pairing: Solangelo

Prev | Next | AU directory | Read it on AO3 (Recommended) | Arranged Marriage AU Masterpage

Summary: A few months have passed since Prince Nico’s wedding to William of Solace. Even with his husband at his side, Will sometimes feels lonely as he settles into his new life. He misses his home, his family, his friends, and his studies in Venadica. Meanwhile, Nico is uncertain how to help him, awkward about expressing himself, and he wonders if he’ll ever be able to truly make his husband happy. As time goes by and Will continues to feel lost in his new home, Will and Nico must both learn how to make their marriage work.

Nico spent the majority of the trip to Phrygia holding Will’s hand and dozing on his shoulder.  When he opened his eyes, he saw Mellie and Hedge similarly cuddled together while Reyna sat plastered against the carriage wall as far from Mellie and Hedge as she could get.  Nico had a feeling that she was tired of being surrounded by newlyweds.  

When they reached Phrygia, however, Nico began to feel agitated.  He wondered if bringing Will along had been a good idea.  Will had seemed strangely excited the whole trip, but he would probably find the visit boring and would have enjoyed himself more if he’d stayed in Divitia.

But more importantly, Nico didn’t want Midas to go anywhere near Will.  He didn’t want Midas near anyone he cared for.

Although he rarely went anywhere without his dog, Nico had purposely left Asterion behind and had encouraged Will to do the same with Bonnie.  Midas had apparently repented after the bating scandal came to light nearly a decade ago, but Nico didn’t believe it.  Midas was clever; when Nico listed his name as one of the contributors in his old tutor Minos’ baiting ring, Midas had known exactly what to say to save himself.  Nico could still clearly recall the fake remorse in Midas’ voice when he admitted his involvement in his hearing.  He’d done it for his dying wife, he’d claimed.  Midas had spun a tragic tale for the jury about the agony he’d felt when his wife had been diagnosed with the Scarlet Delirium, how he’d depleted his wealth to find a way to save her, and how, in his despair, he’d turned to betting on dog fights to support her.  The next day, whispers all over Divitia quoted his statement: “People do shameful things to save the ones they love.”

Nico, who’d acted as the primary witness in most of the baiting cases, was one of the few people Midas hadn’t managed to charm.  Nico had seen the dogfights firsthand.  He’d touched Asterion’s wounds and nursed him when he was too weak to even stand.

But Nico had still been a child at the time, unable to express himself and not even half as charismatic as Midas.  He could do very little to convince the jury of Midas’ cruelty—especially not after he his temper in the middle of the trial.  When Divitians weren’t too busy sympathizing with Midas, they were gossiping about the tantrum that the little prince had thrown in the courtroom.

Midas had gotten off too easily.  He’d paid a fine—one he could easily afford with the money he’d earned on dog fights—and he’d cooperated with Artemis’ investigators to help identify and arrest the others involved in the baiting ring.  And that was it.  After that, it was like it had never even happened.

Nico knew that Midas wouldn’t dare to harm Asterion, but he would never allow his dog to be in the presence of a man who had pitted animals against each other for profit.  Midas would always be cruel and corrupt, no matter how much he insisted otherwise.  Although he had failed to bring Midas to justice, Nico would never fail to protect Asterion again.

They rode past sprawling fields of grain and grazing livestock before they reached Phrygia’s gates.  “What a beautiful city,” Will mused as he watched the buildings roll by.  “Large cities like this usually have more problems with sanitation, but the streets look clean.”

Nico was only half listening and didn’t fully realized what Will had said until Reyna replied, “Phrygia has an advanced sewage network for a Plutonian city.”

Nico turned his glare from the window to Reyna.  “For a Plutonian city?” he repeated.

Reyna nodded, ignoring Nico’s irate tone.  “Most haven’t had the funds to introduce such modern systems.”

“The mines must have helped with reconstruction a great deal,” Will commented.

Nico snorted.  Will was too busy looking outside to hear him, but Reyna eyed Nico warningly to remind him to control his temper.  Nico averted his eyes.  

Truthfully, Phrygia was a beautiful city, which only agitated Nico more.  He wished he could have found more to pick at to stick the blame on Midas, but it was in remarkable shape.  Divitia paled by comparison.

Midas’ estate was located outside the southeastern wall of the city.  The manor would have been dwarfed in size by the Palatium de Divitae, but it did not lack in grandeur.  They entered the property through a gate before pulling into the main courtyard.  The mansard roof gleamed like silver in the late afternoon sun, while the yellow brick and white stone ornamentation of the manor shone like gold and ivory.  The manor itself consisted of two wings that came forward from either side of a central building, with tall windows and beautiful terraced gardens.  The earl and his household stood outside, waiting to greet them.  

As the carriage came to a halt, Nico tried to cool his temper.  Reyna tried to catch his attention, but Nico ignored her.  He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing to distract himself from his anger.  And he waited.

Too soon, he heard the carriage door open and he looked down in time to see the step pulled out.  “I’ll go first,” Reyna said.  Nico could feel her eyes on him, like she wanted to exchange one last glance and one final warning, but Nico refused to meet her gaze.  When he heard her shoes hit the road, he looked up at Will and gestured for him to exit first.

And then Nico couldn’t delay further; it wouldn’t be appropriate for a guard and a maid to exit before him.  He considered asking them to do it anyway, but only for a moment before he gathered his courage and stepped outside.

When Will took his hand to help him down, Nico kept his chin held up.  When he was escorted to the doors of the manor, Nico looked forward.  When they stopped in front of the earl, Nico held Midas’ eyes.  

Midas looked exactly how Nico remembered him; perhaps his hair was grayer and his face more lined, but other than that, he looked the same.  He was a heavyset bearded man—a horrible choice, as far as Nico was concerned.  Facial hair hadn’t been fashionable for a century.  Then again, nothing about Midas was tasteful.  His clothes—scarlet and gold with diamonds sewn into the embroidery—were lavish to the point of ostentation and served as an obvious statement to announce his wealth.  A man like Midas did not deserve such opulence and luxury.  He had always been wealthy; even during the Scarlet Delirium, he’d continued to amass a great fortune from betting and baiting.  The fines he’d paid for it had barely dented his wealth. 

“Your arrival is an honor, Your Highness,” Midas said.  When he bowed, the rest of the household followed suit.

“Midas,” Nico said.  “It’s been some time since we last met.”

“Indeed,” Midas answered.  “Last I saw you, you were still a child.”

“I think you’ll find that I have grown and learned much since then,” Nico said.  He paused, just long enough to enjoy the expression on Midas’ face.  He looked nervous.

Good.  He ought to be.

“I have brought my husband, Lord William of Angelus, and my adviser, Lady Reyna,” Nico continued, nodding to each of them in turn.

“A privilege,” Midas said.  “And you remember my son, Lityerses.”

Nico forced himself not to scowl in distaste when Midas gestured to the young man beside him.  “Of course,” Nico said.  He nodded politely when Lityerses bowed, but avoided meeting his eyes.  He was not afraid of Midas, but as for his son....

Well, Nico did not fear Lityerses, either, but he felt an unexpected twinge of apprehension.  Nico shuddered to think of the teasing he’d endure if Will found out that Midas had once offered his son as a potential marriage candidate.  Nico had turned Lityerses away without even bothering to meet with him.  He’d had already known what kind of person Lityerses was; they had met on a few occasions when Midas brought his son to the Lotussium to watch dog fighting matches.  Lityerses was just as greedy as his father, and even more merciless.

“Shall we retire inside for dinner?” Midas suggested.  “You must be hungry after your journey.  Afterwards, I would love to give you a tour of my home.”

“Yes, thank you,” Nico said.  “Will your daughter not join us?”

“Not during this visit,” Midas replied.  “She is currently studying abroad.”

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for wealthy families to send their daughters abroad for schooling, but Nico glanced at Will to gauge his reaction as Midas showed them inside.  Will usually studied that time of year.  Nico knew he missed it, even if he didn’t mention it often.  He couldn’t be sure what Will was thinking, however; Will didn’t appear upset or envious, but Nico noted that he also didn’t inquire about her studies further.  Usually, Will would be interested in other people’s schooling.

Nico would have liked to critique Midas’ skills as a host, but he was disappointed when dinner was set out for them almost immediately after they sat down.  Midas had timed their arrival perfectly and the meal was inconveniently delicious.

Nico did not avoid meeting Midas’ eyes when he addressed him, but he also was careful not to look in Midas’ direction much at all—enough to show that he was not afraid of Midas without letting him think that he was at all worthy of Nico’s attention.

But Will did not follow Nico’s lead.

Nico had been so wrapped up in his own apprehension that he had forgotten one important detail about his husband: his infuriating and incessant kindness.  He’d never heard Will speak ill of anyone—save Octavian, but that hardly counted—and he couldn’t think of a single time he’d witnessed his husband greet someone without a smile.  Perhaps Nico had assumed that considering Midas’ despicable nature, Will would make an exception to his usual routine of kindness.  But no—Will wore his brightest, prettiest smile and acted as charming as ever.  He talked and talked and talked until Nico thought his ears might bleed if he didn’t stop.  Nico gripped his tableware so tightly that his nails left marks on his palms, and still Will and Midas talked.  Nico knew his flaring temper was to blame; Will wasn’t trying to bother him.  But even still, he found Will’s voice loud and obnoxious.  Nico had to bite his tongue to keep himself from snapping at him to shut up.  

“Lityerses has become a talented swordsman since you last met,” Midas said.  “He remains unmatched in every fencing.  I hear you enjoy fencing as well—perhaps you could have a friendly spar during your visit.”

“I did not come here to spar,” Nico answered cooly.  “I came to review your mine.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Nico saw both Will and Reyna turn to him.  Nico ignored their shocked expressions.  He knew that later Reyna would lecture him about at least acting polite and he would regret acting so callously in front of Will, but he felt too angry to care just yet.  He had not come to be friendly with Midas and Lityerses.  Midas should not expect otherwise.

“Of course, Your Highness,” Midas said after a moment’s pause.

Nico didn’t bother to respond.

For a few moments, the only sounds were that of tableware scraping against plates.  Then Will suddenly cleared his throat.  “Your city is beautiful, Lord Midas,” he said.  “We had the privilege of admiring it as we rode through on our way here.”

“All compliments ought to be directed to the mines,” Midas said.  “It is due to the hard work of Phygia’s citizens that the city has recovered so well.”

Nico tried not to snort.  He didn’t believe for a second that Midas didn’t revel in every compliment.  Phrygia was doing admittedly well, but perhaps the reason they weren’t experiencing the economic depression so harshly was because of Midas’ questionable sources of income—Nico knew too well how lucrative baiting could be.

When dinner was over, Midas brought them to view the gardens before the sky fell to dark.  Will and Midas commented on the newer Juvian styles and how Midas planned to introduce them to his grounds.  They discussed construction and design and gardening, and all the while, Will held that foolish smile and innocent charm.  Nico didn’t notice that he’d been clenching his fists and jaw until Reyna fell in step beside him.  Her presence—and the look she gave him—both calmed Nico and reminded him to remain poised.  Nico could not allow himself to seem frustrated in front of Midas.  He could not appear weak or young or less than perfectly composed.

“Has the estate been in your family long?” Will asked when Midas brought them back to the manor to continue the tour indoors.

“Four generations, but only about half the manor is original,” Midas said.  “It’s constantly under construction.”

“I thought so.  There are pieces that look historic, but others are quite contemporary.  The entire estate is beautifully designed.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Nico barely contained a snort.  Beautifully designed?  Everywhere he looked, there was gold.  Gold filigree embellishing the walls, gold squares tiled across the ceilings, gold wrapped around the base of marble columns.  It looked nothing like the Hall of Gold in the Palatium de Divitae—that had been artfully designed, and for all its riches, the Hall of Gold radiated a sense of modesty and restraint.  Midas’ home was designed to be ostentatious and boastful.  Nico felt sick to his stomach.  He had his doubts about how honorably Midas had attained such vast amounts of gold.

But Will didn’t seem to care about that.  He happily complimented every room they walked though.  Nico could have expected Will to act civil with almost anyone, but so friendly?  How could he be so needlessly charming to a person like Midas?  Nico knew Will’s opinions on baiting—they’d discussed it on multiple occasions.  Didn’t Will realize that....

Unless he didn’t.  Gods, Will didn’t know.

Nico had assumed that Will would’ve been aware, especially considering how passionately he felt about baiting.  Hadn’t Nico told Will about Asterion?

But no.  He hadn’t.  He’d mentioned that Asterion’s first master had been cruel, but he’d never offered more information than that.  He hadn’t told Will about Midas or the others, and he certainly hadn’t said much about Minos.

Nico bit back the urge to curse.  This was exactly what everyone had kept telling Nico—he needed to talk to Will.  Hestia had told him.  Reyna had told him.  Even Percy and Jason had told him.  Talking was difficult, especially when the subject of conversation was something Nico desperately avoided thinking about, but he couldn’t keep expecting Will to understand everything automatically.

Nico looked at Will, wondering if he could somehow send a silent signal to say, “Don’t trust him,” or at least, “I have something to tell you,” or maybe even just, “Gods above, stop smiling!”  But Will was too engrossed in his conversation to catch any of Nico’s subtle cues, even when Nico wrapped a hand around his arm.

Nico didn’t find an opportunity until later that night, after Midas had invited them to sit and talk over refreshments.  When Midas sent Lityerses to bed, Nico saw a chance and pounced on it.

“Actually, I was thinking that we ought to retire soon, as well,” Nico said.  “Will, why don’t you head to bed?  I will continue talking a while longer with Lady Reyna and Lord Midas, but there’s no need for you to stay up with us.  You must be tired.”

Will frowned.  For a moment, Nico worried that Will would argue, but then he nodded.  “Yes, Your Highness,” he said, getting to his feet.  He turned to Midas and bowed.  “It has been a pleasure meeting you, Lord Midas.  I look forward to speaking more tomorrow.”

“Likewise,” Midas said.  He called for a manservant to escort Will to his room.

Will touched Nico’s shoulder as he walked by.  “Goodnight, Nico.”

Nico started to answer, but it died in his throat and he felt the blood drain from his face when he realized what Will had done.  Nico.  Will had called him Nico.

Of course liked it when Will used his given name, but it was intimate.  It showed a vulnerability that Nico had chosen to share with Will.  That vulnerability wasn’t meant to be put on display for others—especially not Midas.

Nico clenched his fist, but did nothing.  He waited for Will to leave them, took a sip of his tea, and pretended that Will hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary.  Perhaps Midas hadn’t even noticed.

“I suggest we leave early tomorrow to reach the mines before noon,” Nico said.  

“Yes, Your Highness,” Midas agreed.  “I was about to say the same thing.”

Nico made an unimpressed noise.  “I’m looking forward to reviewing them.  I hope I will find everything up to my standards.  I’m particularly interested in the wellbeing of your workers—including those of the four-legged variety.”

Midas was quiet.  He looked nervous.

He should.

Eventually, Midas cleared his throat.  “Will your husband join us tomorrow?” he asked.

“I will invite him,” Nico answered.  “I’m sure he’ll be just as eager as I am.  You know, my husband has exceptional veterinary experience.  I expect that he’ll be a good judge of the working conditions of your animals.”

Midas said nothing, but Nico thought he seemed pale.

“Perhaps we should all retire for the night,” Midas suggested.

“Yes,” Nico agreed.  “Perhaps so.”

*   *   *

Will had taken off his coat and cravat, but otherwise had not moved to ready himself for bed.  His guest chambers consisted of two separate rooms—one for sleeping while the other was a small sitting room for his own personal use.  He’d tried to keep himself entertained by sitting and reading, but that hadn’t lasted long.  Will had already spent a considerable amount of time sitting and reading in the carriage earlier, so he was quite tired of it.

He didn’t want to go to sleep, either.  Why was it that people always insisted that he needed rest after traveling?  Will hadn’t done anything but sit all day.  If anything, he usually felt restless after long journeys.  They were tedious and boring and within the first half hour of any trip, someone invariably announced the need to relieve themselves at the least convenient moment.  Often, that person was Will.

The point was, Will wasn’t ready to sleep and he was ever so slightly annoyed that Nico had suggested it.  He’d spent a significant deal of his life in carriages and he was sick of people telling him that he was a weary traveler when he’d really spent hours doing absolutely nothing.

Of course, that didn’t keep annoyed Will for long.  The real reason Will still felt bothered by the whole thing was the way Nico had said it.  As soon as Midas had sent his son off to bed, Nico suggested Will leave, too, as though Will was a child and the real adults—Reyna, Nico, and Midas—were trying to have a serious conversation.

Admittedly, Will knew very little about mining and wouldn’t have been much use anyway, but he didn’t believe that warranted an early bedtime.  Perhaps he’d done something else to offend Nico.  Nico had been irritable most of the day, after all, so it wasn’t unlikely.  Had Will spoken too much earlier that day?  Perhaps Nico felt like Will had stolen their host’s attention.

But then again, perhaps Nico hadn’t meant anything by it at all.  Will could be imagining the entire thing.

Will nodded to himself.  That was probably the case.  He’d ask Nico to be sure, but there was no sense working himself up over something that could be nothing at all.

He wondered if Nico would come see him before heading to bed himself.  They’d been given separate suites, of course—no sensible host would ask royalty to share their room with someone else.  Fortunately, their rooms were adjacent to one another, but the arrangement felt lonely.  He slept beside Nico most nights.  Nico always invited Will to join him in his room.

That was, unless he went looking for Will only to find him already sleeping.  Will sometimes unintentionally fell asleep with a book in his private study or curled up next to Bonnie for a nap that ended up lasting until morning.

That wasn’t likely to happen that night.  Will usually fell asleep quickly and easily, but his present restlessness denied him even the inclination to go to bed, so he was still up waiting to hear Nico arrive next door when there was a knock at the entrance of his chambers.  He sprang to his feet to answer it, but was surprised (and a bit disappointed) to find Midas on the other side of the door rather than Nico.

“Lord Midas,” Will greeted with a respectful bow of his head.  “Pardon my appearance.”  Thankfully, he still wore his waistcoat and could pass as decently attired, but he’d at least have put his coat back on if he’d realized that he wasn’t opening the door for his husband.

“Not at all; pardon the lateness of my visit,” Midas answered.  “I saw that the room was still lit and thought I’d check to see if everything is to your liking.”

“Yes, of course,” Will said.  “Would you like to come in?”  He would have rather asked Midas to leave so that he could go next door to check if Nico was in his room yet, but that wouldn’t have been proper behavior for a guest.

Unfortunately, Midas took him up on his offer and entered.  He shut the door behind himself, which Will thought was odd, but he didn’t have the opportunity to think about it much before Midas sat down and asked if he found his rooms satisfactory.

“Yes, very much so,” Will answered, sitting across from him.  “Every part of your home is beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Midas said.  “I hope you feel welcome here.  I’m honored that the Prince’s consort chose to join him for this visit.  You already have quite the reputation here in Pluto.”

Will was surprised.  “Do I?”

“Of course,” Midas answered.  “You are a consor, as I understand?”

“I am,” Will said proudly, sitting up a bit straighter.  “I spent most of my summers studying in Venadica.”

“An awfully long way to travel from Diana,” Midas commented.  “Why didn’t you study in Delphi instead?”

“I often spent winters in Delphi, but my aunt invited me to study Venadica when I was a child.  My father sponsored me.”

“Of course, the Matestra,” Midas said.  “You come from an impressive family, Your Highness.  Does your father still sponsor you?”

Will faltered, but collected himself quickly.  “Unfortunately, my studies are on hold for the time being as I settle in to Divitia.”

“Unfortunate indeed, but understandable.  I’m sure it won’t be long before you continue.  You primarily research medicine, if I recall correctly?”

“Yes, under the mentorship of Asclepius.”

“Another impressive name—even I have heard of him.”

Will swelled with pride.  He knew that part of the reason Asclepius had taken an interest in his studies was at first because of Will’s relationship with the Matestra, but he’d long since earned his place as Asclepius’ pupil.

“I must confess that I have an ulterior motive for discussing this with you,” Midas suddenly said.  “A private matter.”

Will blinked and glanced at the door, now understanding why Midas had closed it.  “Ah,” he said.  “Is it a problem with your health?”

“No, not mine,” Midas said.  “It’s my daughter.  This evening, I said she was studying abroad, but she’s actually here, in the manor.  She’s ill.  Very ill.”

It had been a long time since Will had last had a patient, but slipping back into the role of healer felt natural and comfortable.  “What have the doctors said?” he asked.  

“They’re at a loss,” Midas admitted.  “None of the doctors in Phrygia have your education.  I know it isn’t proper to ask this of a guest, but I’d hoped that you might examine her during your visit.”

“That won’t be any trouble at all.  I can examine her tomorrow.”

“I will be in your debt,” Midas said.  “And if it’s not too much to ask, I would appreciate your discretion, Your Highness.  She’s always been sickly, but we’ve kept her health private to avoid panic.  Since the Scarlet Delirium, people in Pluto have been especially prone to hysteria when it comes to disease.”

Will nodded, but he didn’t think it was that it was fear of hysteria so much as fear of scandal that worried Midas.  Illness carried a heavy stigma in Pluto.  In general, Venadicans were well-informed about matters involving health, but in his years as a healer, he’d had several run-ins with paranoid Plutons.  Some would only meet with him in private and would swear him to secrecy.  A few had gone so far as to disguise themselves before going to the sororal infirmary.  A cough could send a family into panic and anything less than perfect health brought a burden of shame.

“I understand,” Will said.  “You have my word.”

“Thank you,” said Midas.  “Tomorrow, I can have my son escort you to her while I meet with your—”

Midas halted at the creak of a handle turning and they looked up to see Nico opening the door.  He was still wearing his shoes, but had removed his coat and waistcoat and instead had covered himself with an open dressing gown.

“Your Highness,” Midas greeted.

Will might have seen Nico’s eyes narrow.  “I thought I heard voices,” Nico said.

“Were we keeping you up?” Midas asked.

That time, Will definitely didn’t imagine the coldness in Nico’s voice when he said, “No.  I intended to visit my husband anyway.”

Evidently, Midas picked up on Nico’s mood, as well.  “Right, well, I’ll leave you to rest,” he said.  “It was lovely speaking to you, Your Highness.  I’ll see you both tomorrow.  Sleep well.”

Midas didn’t wait for either of them to answer before he left.

Nico closed the door behind him.  He didn’t turn to look at Will before he spoke.  “You met with him alone,” he observed icily.

“He came to check in,” Will said.  “It would have been rude not to invite him for a chat.”

Nico made a dissatisfied sound.

“I didn’t want to, though,” Will added as an afterthought.

That didn’t seem to lighten Nico’s mood.

“Why have you been so angry today?” Will asked.  “Have I done something wrong?”

Nico sighed and walked into the room further.  “No,” he said, taking a seat next to Will.  “It’s Midas.  I don’t trust him.  Be careful around him.”

“Nico, I don’t understand why you have such a grudge against him,” Will said.  “You’re not...certainly you’re not jealous?”

Nico’s frown deepened.  “What?”

“Because if so, I’ll remind you that he’s old enough to be my father.”

Nico shook his head and curled his lip in disgust.  “That—gods, Will, no!  I didn’t even...no!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem—the problem is Midas.  He’s a dirty, lying, cheat and yes, it’s upsetting me that you’ve been so chatty with him but I am not jealous— ”  Nico broke off and cursed.  “ Now I’m jealous.  Damn it, Will, why did you have to say that?  I was perfectly not-jealous until you suggested it and now I can’t get it out of my head.”

Will doubted jealousy could manifest out of nowhere so suddenly, but he decided not to fight Nico on that detail.  “While I am wholly uninterested, I think it might be excessive to call him a ‘dirty, lying cheat,’” Will said instead.  “I thought he seemed friendly.”

“Friendly?”  Nico scoffed.  “Yes.  So friendly that he managed to talk his way out of one of the worst criminal scandals that Pluto has seen in the last decade.”

Will blinked.  “What criminal scandal?” he asked.

Nico sighed.  “So you don’t know,” he said.  “I suppose you wouldn’t have been in Pluto at the time—it must have happened while you and the other Venadican children were taking refuge in Delphi.  For a while, it was all anyone would talk about.  Midas was one of several noblemen discovered to be involved in an illegal baiting ring.  He made animals fight each other to the death for entertainment.  That’s why he’s so wealthy, Will.  He barely felt the economic crisis after the Scarlet Delirium because he made so much money betting on fights.”

“Baiting,” Will whispered in disbelief.  “But that’s been illegal in all the Romanus Terris since long before we were born.  How is he not in prison?”

“Because he’s friendly, just like you said.  He shed a few tears for the jury, identified a couple more conspirators, and paid a fine.  And that’s all.”

“Gods,” Will murmured.  He rubbed his face.  “You mean that all day long I’ve been chatting with a...a....”

“A greedy, selfish animal abuser, yes,” Nico said bitterly.

“But at the very least he shouldn’t be an earl.  How can he still have a title?  Why didn’t you take it away?”

“At the time, I had very little real power,” Nico answered.  “I was too young; ‘Duke of Angelus’ was more of an honorary title than a real position.  My father could have taken away Midas’ claim to the county, but he chose not to go against the wishes of the jury.  Now that I’m older, I have the authority to strip his title, but I still can’t.  Midas is very well-liked.  The public hates me enough as it is already, so imagine how they would react if I deposed him.  Believe me, I’ve discussed it with Reyna and it’s not a viable option.  The point is, he’s not in prison, he’s still an earl, he’s very wealthy, and I don’t know what he’s capable of.  If he has no problem sacrificing animals for a few extra coins, what else could he do?”

Will swallowed.  Should he tell Nico what Midas had asked of him?  He didn’t want to keep it secret, but regardless of what Midas had done, he and his daughter were entitled to medical confidentiality.  Plutons were especially private about their health.  It would be wrong of Will to disclose that information without permission.  

“I will be more cautious around him from now on,” Will said.

“You can’t let yourself seem at all vulnerable,” Nico said.  “Don’t give him anything he can use to manipulate you.  Did you talk about anything in particular?”

“He asked about my studies,” Will answered.

Nico nodded in satisfaction.  “Then he could have just been greeting you as a host.”

Will chewed his lip.  He didn’t like lying, but he took the issue of confidentiality seriously.  Anyway, what would Nico say if he knew?  Would he ask Will not to do it?  Will would never abandon a child in need of healing, no matter who her father was.

“Anyway, you don’t have to be jealous,” Will said abruptly.

“I know.  Midas has to be well over twice your age.  I’d worry about your judgment if you were interested in him.”

“Yes, but that wasn’t what I meant,” Will said.  “You don’t have to be jealous of anyone, ever.  You trust me, don’t you?”

Nico’s frown faltered.  For a second, he looked like he was fighting a smile, then he gave up and lost.  “I trust you.”

“Good.  Is that all that was bothering you today?”

Nico nodded, but then hesitated.  “Well, there was another thing,” he said.  “You used my given name in front of Midas.”

Will didn’t remember doing that.  “I did?”

“As you were saying goodnight.”

“Oh.”  He still didn’t remember.  “I must have said it without thinking.  Did I cause a problem?”

“Not really,” Nico said.  “I know this is the first appearance we’ve made as husbands and you’ve grown accustomed to more familiar forms of address, but I’d rather keep that private.  Especially around Midas.”

“I understand,” Will said.  “I’ll be more careful in the future.”

Nico nodded.  “Thank you.  I wanted to talk about visiting the mines, but that can wait until morning.  We ought to rest.  The journey here was tiring.”

Will let out an annoyed puff of air.  The journey hadn’t been tiring.  All they had done was sit.  They’d even napped in the carriage.  Why did people always insist that long carriage rides took so much energy?

Will didn’t say that out loud.

“Would you like to stay with me?” Nico asked.

Will looked at him.  “Stay?”

“In my room.  To sleep.”

Will blinked, then he smiled.  “Oh.  Um, yes.  Yes, I would like that.”

Maybe resting wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Next

[friendshipcampaign]

Session Recap 6/30/19: Stormcrows and Swords

When the party all awoke that morning, there were messages waiting for them from the Gatekeepers in the Infinite Library. 

Kriv, who had asked about the Three of Eyes and the DPL, received a message from Hubris that read:

theyre a nasty piece of work. most demon cultists are seeking power or influence, even if theyve decided the best way to accomplish that is bloody destruction. but the three of eyes seek nothing less than the total domination of the abyss over the prime material plane and everything it touches. they dont worship one of the lords. they worship the abyss itself. weve always been able to stop them because theyre inherently unstable semicolon the most revered members are those so fluent in abyssal that they have experienced the third dark letter, enabling them to hear the whispers of the abyss unfiltered. But no mortal mind or body can withstand that for long, so theyre more likely to go out in a blaze of demonic glory than to hatch any real longterm plans. lucky for us exclamation point. keep your eyes open. 

heard from a and p that youre in veritas. the cult is most likely trying to take advantage of the instability from the breach to open a new portal. theyd need some powerful demons for that, or an alkilith that hastens the formation of abyssal breaches. well be watching for problems in the area, but theres enough residual abyssal energy that its hard to get a clear picture. re the goddess, ill do some digging. im familiar with the symbolism but not whether the deity has been identified. 

re the dpl. weve met them. they like alembic. they dont like me at all exclamation point. better to avoid them unless theres an emergency. 

best, hubris

Erwyn had asked Alembic and Palava about their experiences in Veritas the months prior and also received a message back, reading:

dear erwyn, 

we are always happy to help how we can. the breach in veritas was to an uncatalogued layer of the abyss. so, on the one hand, we can only tell you what we saw, but on the other hand what we saw is as much as anyone knows.

the creature that came through was vast and amorphous, not really an ooze but something like a huge, growing slab of purplish muscle. it gave off a poison that made anyone exposed to it laugh uncontrollably. if theres any of that still around remember that it is a poison, not a magical effect, so be smarter than me and invest in a mask. 

the weird thing about this creature, and the one that makes it particularly dangerous to the prime material plane, is that it could grow more demons. At first we thought there were reinforcements coming through the portal, but they kept showing up even after alembic closed the breach, and then we found some that were halfformed, embedded in strange growths in its body. those new demons always grew in circles around a clear pod where it held some person or animal it had trapped, and it seemed to be using its captives as some kind of inspiration. the demons it grew from them were a similar size and shape. its possible it needed living captives. when we broke the clear pods the people inside were all right as long as there was healing on hand, so we saved a dozen or so humanoids and a dog. 

now, we did our level best to wipe it out for good. couldnt see hide nor hair of it when we were done, and the demonology prevention league was planning on keeping watch on the area in case it found a way to come back. at this point were most concerned about some cultist locating the layer and summoning themselves an endless supply of demons so were all trying to keep the details under wraps. i wouldnt be unduly worried, but do keep your eyes out and let us know if you find anything stranger than expected. 

be careful and stay in touch, 

alembic and palava

And finally, Ditto, who had asked a more complex question, received back:

i will look exclamation point. nothing that is immediately accessible but thats what research is for exclamation point exclamation point exclamation point. 

cheerio, 

hubris

To start out their investigations for the day, the group followed Tiktik to the place they had seen the demon disappear inside the previous night. The building was on Needle Row, where the tailors’ and cloth merchants’ shops were, but was itself a boarded-up warehouse. There was a shop next to it, however, which the group decided to check out to see if they could notice anything odd. They entered on the pretense that Amaranth needed her coat repaired a bit and Voski suggested checking out the “finer” wares along the walls -- though it took Erwyn a second to catch on to her actual meaning and she had to steer him gently inside. 

The tailor who owned the place was a half-orc with two assistants, a halfling and a goblin. He became very engaged talking to Amaranth about her coat repair. Voski also took the opportunity to scout out some nice prints, for inspiration. With the tailor occupied, Erwyn approached the wall nearest the warehouse on the other side and cast Detect Magic -- but it set off one of his Wild Magic surges, causing a swarm of dusky blue butterflies with silver eyes to manifest inside the store.

The goblin assistant muttered under her breath and Kriv apologized, recognizing the word for “adventurer.”

Some of the party and the shop workers both attempted to shoo the butterflies out the door. After a minute though, they all vanished. While Erwyn was mortified, he stayed silent, hoping to still glean some information from his spell. He managed to detect both faint Abjuration and Divination spells from the other side of the wall, as well as a magical effect on one of the tailor’s needles. 

Once she noted Erwyn had finished his investigation, Amaranth swiftly told the tailor they were late for a thing and had to run, taking her coat with her. The party all shuffled outside and Erwyn explained what he had noticed.

The party next headed to the address Amaranth had been given by the orc woman she’d spoken to at the bar the night before, hoping to get a glimpse of the Obsidian Shard drop point. It seemed to be a laundry, which was in line with the instructions Amaranth had been given about dropping off something needing mending to contact them. She also noted a beggar’s mark that signified the place as off-limits for thieves, and an unfamiliar narrow diamond shape drawn in black. Unable to spot any unusual activity in the area at this time, the party moved along.

As they headed towards the office of the private investigator Squall had hired previously, it became clear they were entering the poorer part of town. The building itself was very run-down, with a big sign out front that read “Eckjeth Investigations” and an oil lamp visible inside. Eckjeth poked her head out to greet them. She was a half-elf with pointy face and twitchy ears, whose hair was braided in a faux-elven style that had clearly been done about three days ago. She let them inside and revealed an office with cases of showy books covered in dust, and boxes packed full of tinctures that were shoved to the sides in an attempt to make them less obvious.

She invited the party to sit, but most of them refrained. Amaranth pulled a chair over and turned it around, sitting on it backwards. Ditto sat on the desk. Before getting into the conversation, Eckjeth poured herself a drink and added one of the tinctures to it, looking genuinely relieved as she did so. She asked what they were here for and seemed annoyed when they said they were looking for Quest, snapping that missing persons cases were a lesson in futility in Veritas right now. She admitted that when she’d gone to the Stormcrows they couldn’t confirm that Quest was dead, since Eckjeth didn’t know her personally, but it seemed clear that this was her assumption. 

Interestingly, the case seemed to be less on Eckjeth’s mind than other things. She looked to be extremely stressed and tired. When the group asked about this she admitted her desire to get out of the city, since it seemed like there was nothing the common people of the city could do about the Abyssal influences lingering since the incursion. Voski then asked her about the tincture she’d put in her drink and Eckjeth stiffened -- it seemed she had a sort of love-hate relationship with the things.

Eckjeth told the group that the tinctures had been brought to the city by a wealthy philanthropist named Karin Mordechai, who would come to the city sometimes and do spontaneous demonstrations, professing their virtues and how they could keep the public safe from the effects of the breach. Eckjeth said she was based somewhere east of Veritas, so while she rented a place in the city during her visits she wasn’t around often, and would sometimes teleport in thanks to a wizard in her employ. Apparently Karin was also planning on attending the upcoming Guildhall Gala, though she had managed to receive special dispensation privileges from the guilds so that people selling the tinctures didn’t need memberships to operate.

When asked what the tinctures were made out of, Eckjeth informed the party they were made outside of the city, since Veritas was too “unstable,” out of materials straight from the elemental planes. Kriv asked if she had been feeling alright and if he could cast a spell to check up on her and she agreed. When he cast Detect Poison and Disease, he picked up on something similar to what he’d detected on Clarity the other night. Eckjeth tried to pitch the tinctures to them and Erwyn tentatively bought one of them, hoping to investigate it later. Eckjeth also gave the party her investigation notes, which started out more organized and grew increasingly more scrawled. 

The detective also let them know about a member of the lamplighter’s guild, Deveron Wick, who had been at the guildhouse the night of Quest’s disappearance and said he had seen her briefly, but had offered no additional information. Additionally, she shared her notes on the outfit Quest had last worn as well as the blades she’d had on her -- a sort of “rescue” enchanted sword that was anxious around others, called Stív, and two fae daggers, one affiliated with fire and the other with ice, that could be used to find each other. Kriv offered Eckjeth a few gold as a tip for the information, subtly using Lay on Hands to heal a bit her as he handed them over.

Deciding to talk to the Stormcrows next, the party headed to the temporary temple to the Raven Queen set up near the exclusion zone. When they arrived, one of the raven-masked clerics was talking to a member of the city watch outside, saying they hadn’t been expecting difficulties today. An acolyte greeted them inside, but Erwyn and Voski both noted a lock on the door leading to the morgue that had apparently been blasted open, and what seemed to be signs of some kind of magical altercation.

When Voski inquired about what had happened, the acolyte explained that there had been an incident -- though they assured the group it hadn’t involved necromancy. They quickly switched subjects to ask the group what they were here for, and Amaranth asked if they could confirm whether or not Quest was still alive. When she said she was asking as a friend, the acolyte lead them to a back chamber. Sitting inside was a kenku with magpie plumage, who also wore a leather raven mask and a small, black leather crown. Her mask reached over her beak and seemed to have buckles that could close it shut. The acolyte introduced her as Susurrus, the Crowned Crow.

After Amaranth described Quest, the crowned cleric lit a bowl of incense in front of her and breathed in the smoke before raising her head, waiting for a moment, extremely still. She then lowered it and turned to the acolyte who had brought them in, signing a message. The acolyte informed the party that she said no one of Quest’s description had passed through the Astral Plane yet. They clarified that this wasn’t a sure sign she was among the living, but still meant it was likely.

As they left the chamber, Ditto asked more about what had happened in the morgue. The acolyte, apparently too unnerved by the events to remain secretive a second time, answered her in a hushed whisper. They said a group of individuals had used Feign Death to disguise themselves as corpses to get into the morgue, then escaped with three bodies that the clerics had been told to keep safe using Gentle Repose so that the Watch could return to cast Speak With Dead and complete an interrogation. The watch and DPL were apparently both very upset about the situation.

“I hope you find your friend,” the acolyte told them in parting.

“Thank you. I hope you find your bodies!” Ditto replied.

Noting that the argument outside had increased in fervor, Ditto tucked herself behind Voski and started trying to cast a spell under her breath. Voski nudged her before she could finish and slightly shook her head, causing her to cease the casting. As the group started to head away there was further commotion as several DPL agents arrived on the scene. The party high-tailed it away.

As they passed the Obsidian Shard drop point again, Voski cast a Locate Object to see if there were any Three of Eyes pendants in the building. While there, Voski and Amaranth both noted a little spider-like construct scurrying along the street with a scroll held in a sling. When it was pointed out to the others, Erwyn wanted to follow it, but some of the others were hesitant. Voski suggested Tiktik trail it instead. Ditto was hesitant to ask them to follow a potentially dangerous stranger again so soon, but the familiar was willing and went after it. As Tiktik headed off, Ditto also tried casting Detect Thoughts to see if the spider-construct had any. It didn’t.

The party then headed to the home of Winstanus Albach, the customer who’d last bought a sword from Quest. Outside, a flying sword was attempting to cut the grass on the lawn -- though it was only broadly successful. Voski waved at it and it paused to wave back. When they knocked on the door, a number of interesting bumps and clattering noises followed from inside. Then an elderly human man with a huge mustache answered the door, holding a number of leashes which each had a flying sword at the end, and scolded several of the more active ones by name for being rude to company.

When the party explained they were here to speak with him, Winstanus invited them all in, explaining he would put the swords in his “gladiary” -- a word he devised by combining the Celestial “Gladius” and the Common “aviary” -- for their safety. He then lead them to a nice sitting room, which was finely furnished but clearly had many sewn- and patched-up gashes. He offered them all biscuits on plates with little paintings of swords on them, and seemed sad to hear that Quest was still missing. Apparently he was a go-to for her when she had flying swords with slight behavioral issues, as he was an avid collector and didn’t mind their quirks. He was doubly concerned for her well-being because he also had arrangements with her to help find his swords good homes when he passed on.

The last sword he had purchased from her was from the Faewilds -- a long, leaf-shaped mithril one with vine patterns on the blade and metal and crystal flowers on the hilt that struggled a little on its leash as he fetched it. Apparently it had once been a part of an entire flock, but the swords were let go and Quest, who specialized in fae artifacts, had found it running feral. He also said it emitted faint sunlight at all times, and he hadn’t yet thought of a proper name for it. Erwyn asked if he could handle the sword, curious, and Winstanus warned him to watch his fingers, though also noted that as he was an elf the fae blade might receive him a little more kindly. Erwyn carefully examined the sword and noted a Sylvan inscription on it that read, “I and my sisters guard the third court.”

Ditto asked Winstanus if anyone had bothered him recently looking for information on swords. He said a blacksmith named Filigree Black had stopped by before the Abyssal incursion happened, interested in learning about historical smithing techniques, but that was all. In the meantime, Amaranth tried petting a little geriatric dagger floating near her, but accidentally bonked it into the table. It scurried fearfully behind Winstanus. She apologetically held out one of her own daggers for it to investigate.

Winstanus then told the group about the Veritas Amateur Historians Society, which he was a member of, though he mentioned it hadn’t had regular meetings for a while. He gave them the name of the organizer, a dragonborn named Lomik Turnuroth, who was the head of staff at the Zisisvoyni mansion uptown. He also mentioned that both Squall and Eckjeth had stopped by to speak with him about Quest, as well as some of the Watch, though their investigation had seemed half-hearted.

Towards the end of their visit, Amaranth told Winstanus that she’d bought her own sword from Quest, and he congratulated her on the purchase. He delightedly talked swords with her for a bit, and the shy dagger from earlier finally grew interested in her and wandered over, now less afraid.