#(laughing affectionately because he's a good and noble leader and I love him)

[elizabethrobertajones]

I just think once everyone knew who he was and had seen Vrtra, why not have the alchemists represent that better???

[nobodieshero-main]

Atlas Lavore

in the simplest terms: Atlas is the man who is going to save the world. He is the hero of the story, the leader of the quest, destiny's bitch.

He was raised in a noble family, by stiff and absent parents who neglected his emotional needs and were never very physically affectionate with him. He was the only child they had, and therefore their only heir and they were like. really weird about it??

wait- okay, so, the nobility ranks in this world work a little weird because of the gods so because Ako (learning, education, teaching, knowledge) is one of the Up There gods, good educators and scholars tend to be very high up on the nobility food chain, and Atlas' family are alchemists!

It's a magical trait that had been born into the family like a thousand years ago - (*checks notes* wow so interesting how that was around the same time the royal family was stripped of magic and atlas' destiny was written, wild, wonder what that could mean) - and then just Stuck Around so now there's an alchemist based caster in every generation who then goes on to teach at the university (big deal, makes you v important.)

So you can imagine the pressure Atlas grew up with, the expectations that he carried around with him everywhere.

And yet.

Atlas looks at the world as something to be loved, be embraced, to be seen. He's an optimist and is always ready with a kind word and a warm hug, he never lets anyone feel unloved or unwanted. He's hopeful, and kind - the kind of person that makes you think "there is bravery in being soft".

(not to say he is soft, bc atlas will kill a man with his bare hands and then turn around with a bright smile and ask if everyone else is okay, and he wont feel remorse for it if he genuinely thinks it was something that needed to be done.)

He became the person he needed when he was growing up.

He's also always been adventurous kid, climbing shit, and sneaking out, and attending festivals with Cecily. He always wanted more, wanted to see beyond the city walls and experience the world. (So, you can imagine his disappointment when he wound up as an teaching assistant for alchemy at the university, instead of attending classes where he would get to learn other stuff.)

So yeah! Atlas is the hero and he is basically the sunny skies to Keikas storms; the sun to his moon, the laugh to his sullen silence, the hands tugging at his face to force his frown upside down-

His destiny had been written in Vietua's constellations long before his parents were born, and the threads of fate run through his veins like puppet strings and will continue to do so until he finishes what Vietua has planned for him.

Then he'll be free to make his own decisions.

(Well, all of that would be true in a world without Keika, because i am a SLUT for romances that spit in the face of destiny and carve their own paths.) (and technically destiny does sink it's claws back into him-)

AND THEN!

Upset in the palace.

The Prince releases a royal statement of sorts that there's an organisation attempting to find and revive the last dragon alive. which would be terrible, so hes going to reward anyone who can find the dragon and/or stop the people behind it.

And so the threads of fate start tugging.

-

okay more just random information that i know about him

the man will eat ANYTHING (food related trauma from having his diet carefully monitored by strict parents?? maybe)

he's not afraid to get his hands dirty, and he loooves doing things himself

sometimes he does not know how much things cost though, bc he WAS raised in a noble family, so Cecily handles their coin (bc Ahria impulse buys weapons and cannot be trusted)

he's got his 5 4 keys for success locked down (confidence, getting along, organisation, resilience + persistence)

he has Really Good people skills (again: raised a noble)

he is excellent at fencing

he uses talismans and potions to direct and strengthen his magic, similar to the way keika uses a flute

[i-became-the-lady-of-the-blog]

They were hiding like they always did, staying in the corners, only ever greeting people and too nervous to make conversation. ‘The adorably shy queen’ the tabloids had named them. Shyness really wasn’t an issue, they loved meeting new people. But every time they even mentioned life outside the castle to another person, they could feel his cold, viridescent stare on them.

They were nothing but a doll, decor. Teenage girls wanted to be them, the boys found them cute. What a truly odd existence. Malleus had gone into the next room with some politician from the west. Having a banquet at political meetings had been his idea, giving them something to do while he worked.

A hand rested on their shoulder, they turned to see Leona Kingscholar. He looked the same, though a bit of rough stubble adorned his chin, he had new tattoos as well.

“We need to talk, herbivore”, the nickname that annoyed them to bits years ago now seemed like a call from heaven. A way out

An ally.

This is a sequel to this story

----

Before everything went to south, MC was a social butterfly. They would talk with anyone and find topic to converse easily but here they were. Too afraid to make a conversation with people to avoid making Malleus upset. They remember first time MC felt Malleus’ raw jealousy on their first year in Valley of Thorns. They were trying to cope with their abduction, to feel normal again and soothe their need to socialize with others. There were noble fae visitors on that day. Maleficent suggested drink tea on the balcony while she, Malleus and some of the nobles had a meeting. The remaining group went to the balcony, sitting on the chairs around the table. 

It was silent when the servants brought snacks for the group. MC thought the group hated them since they are a human so they didn’t utter a word. It was silent until one of the fae ladies spoke up and asked how they’ve been faring. MC was reluctant at first, fearing their judgment but as they spoke more, their confidence restored. It was not just the fae lady who initiated the conversation, the rest of the group were good people too. Talking with them soothed MC’s nerves, in fact, they craved to talk with them more. They were on the verge of a mental breakdown after being isolated for so very long, talking with them felt like a cure in that moment. They could not even recall the last time they laughed until that day. All was going well until he showed up. Their meeting ended earlier so he didn’t want to waste any time to be with MC, yet when he teleported, he saw MC talking and laughing with someone who isn’t him. He dismissed the guests politely before teleporting MC and himself to his- no their- bed chambers. 

Malleus was enraged that they were getting intimate with another even though it was just laughing and engaging in conversation. The sky darkened as Malleus expression was taking a dark turn. The sky was rumbling with thunder and lightening, as Malleus was taking slow and uncanny steps towards them, making MC flinch with every step. That day, MC felt Malleus’ true rage, true jealousy, true power... It was not uncommon for Malleus to take pleasure in their body regardless of MC’s wishes but that day, it was more than that. It caused MC to have nightmares over a year. Waking up because of a night terror and only to be soothed by the person who caused it was taking a toll on MC. But no one cared nor dared to stand up for them. That day MC learned not to talk with people when Malleus wasn’t around, how much cruel Malleus could get when he wishes and no one would bat an eye. That day MC decided to be obedient, to avoid more harm.

Now here MC was, greeting delegates from different countries and the nobles of Valley of Thorns briefly and making a small talk before moving on to the next person. No one managed to ask questions beyond daily talk and Valley of Thorns related queries. Their court and the delegates saw them as the Shy Queen, thinking that MC was still nervous to talk with people they didn’t know personally. The truth couldn’t be far from that. They just didn’t want to get punished for socializing nor feel that pain again.

MC needed a drink and compose themselves before moving on to the other guests. That was the plan until they saw something or more like someone. They had to take a second look since they didn’t think Malleus would be this bold to invite someone from the past, someone who knew who MC was before becoming Malleus’ prisoner- no spouse. Taking another look at the figure, the realization dawned upon them. It was Leona Kingscholar, the hot guy who was not even trying to be hot, the lion king of Savanaclaw, the person they and Grim kept awake all night for him to help fight the next dorm leader. Leona and MC were not close in the NRC but to see a familiar face...

MC just wanted to run and hug him tightly. They were about to do that but then Malleus came to their mind. Speak of the devil, he shall appear...

Malleus came soon after Leona spoke. MC wanted to explain the situation so it wouldn’t cause a problem but Malleus cut them off, pulling them over, kissing their hands affectionately, making a show in front of Leona.  MC recalled the rivalry between them. Leona was powerful but he was in the middle of Valley of Thorns, surrounded by powerful fae, Malleus, Lilia and Maleficent herself. He didn’t stand a chance. They didn’t want him to be harmed so they were eager to remove the reason of current conflict, themselves, from there but it was impossible for Malleus to just let them go. MC’s heart was racing, as if it would go out of her chest when Malleus forced them to eye contact. They thought a kiss on cheek would suffice but Malleus lifted their chip up before kissing them on the lips. If it wasn’t for the years of practice to stay still even while being violated, their knees would have given away. 

MC let out the breath they weren’t aware that they were holding. Everything was too much, the stress was getting to them but they couldn’t fail now and make Malleus think something happened between them and Leona. They saw a servant and ordered a drink. Before they could have some alone time, a noble approached them and started talking. MC was having a hard time to have the standard conversation as they has with the rest. They were feeling nauseous as the nobles kept talking but luckily the servant brought them a glass of campaign. Gulping the entire glass in one go, they got the attention of the nobles as they started to make unwanted comments. The alcohol made them relax just a tiny bit. Finally, MC was able to continue conversation. As it ended, they asked for another drink while going over to greet others.

After what seemed like an age, MC found an opening to take a break. They walked into the quieter corridor, hoping for some alone time. They didn’t get what they hoped for...

A hand rested on their shoulder, making them panic since they knew it was not how Malleus touched so this meant someone other than Malleus was touching them. They wanted to warn the person. They turned around to see Malleus’ possible victim, only to meet with Leona’s eyes. “We need to talk” He said firmly.

MC just wanted him to be okay so they couldn’t speak with him, ensuring Malleus’ wrath. They conjured up a smile as best as they could in that situation. “We have already talked, Prince Kingscholar. Now if you excuse me,” MC was going to walk around him and go back to the crowd - so much for relaxing.

“Lizard is in an important meeting along with grandma Lizard. The guards are not checking your every move all the time. They have intervals.” Leona stated casually. “This means we can talk, Herbivore.” He seemed determined to talk.

Mc knew they should have walked away but something in Leona’s voice made them trust his observation. “Be quick please, I don’t want to anger Mal- I mean, my husba- I- I-” They were having trouble with speaking with Leona without saying what went on behind the closed doors. 

“I don’t need to smell to know your nervousness, MC. Especially around the Lizard who is supposed to be your husband. Tell me what happened directly now.” Leona looked the same, though a bit of rough stubble adorned his chin, he had new tattoos as well. “Did you return home?” He was asking impossible questions.

MC gulped, recalling the day they lost everything. It pained them greatly to think about the day they thought they would see their family and friends again. “No...” They whispered, clenching their fists and burying their nails to their palm to not cry, yet they couldn’t prevent the quivering of their voice. “Dire Crowley told me to come over to the mirror room. He told me that he found a way to go home and wants me to check it out before going back completely.” They closed their eyes, it was as if reliving that dreadful moment. “My husba- Mal- no my husba... You-Know-Who was there with the old bat. I thought they wanted to see interdimensional travel for the first time but they had other plans.  You-Know-Who told Dire that he did a good job before he took me to Valley of Thorns with the old bat. I resisted at first but if you went through what I-” Their voice broke as they felt tears in their eyes, dropping to their cheeks. They wiped their cheek, “I answered your question, now please leave me be before some guard sees us together and reports to You-Know-Who. I accepted this is my life and I live this way now.”

“Not anymore,” Leona objected, MC could feel the anger behind these those words. “Your imprisonment ends today, you are coming with me, Herbivore.” He stated, ordering them around like when they were in the NRC.

In that moment, it seemed silly but hearing them from someone like Leona made them imagine how their life could have changed. Maybe this was their way out and he was their ally.

——

🍪 Anon I love your brain once again!

[sokkastyles]

if m@iko/k@taang hadn't gotten together in the book 3 finale and we had gotten a book 4 with zutara, (assuming that it was well written and that bryke wouldn't mess it up lmao) how could you have seen their first kiss happening?

Well, there's a lot of "what ifs" here. I honestly can't see a book 4 after the fire lord is defeated and Zuko becomes the new Fire Lord because that is the natural end to the story. There's certainly other things that can be explored but they would need to introduce new villains and conflicts and well, we saw how well that went in the comics.

So there's a number of ways this could go in this hypothetic book 4. The Fire Lord is not defeated and the plot extends and incorporates some of those unfinished plot threads, or the plot continues after the end of season three and we have a new villain and conflicts with Zuko as Fire Lord. I'm going to go with the latter for this hypothetical scenario.

I've said already that I think a good jumping off point for the possibility of romantic zutara to be introduced would be after "The Ember Island Players" because it's a natural place for Zuko and Katara to start talking about things. How ridiculous the portrayal in the play was, but also what did happen in the crystal catacombs and how it was a moment of real connection that was interrupted. I think they would laugh it off and talk about how insulting that portrayal was but then you could have one or both of them start to think about what might have happened. Zuko still feels lingering guilt for his betrayal, and at this point he hasn't resolved things with Iroh so those two things are tied together, so even though Katara forgave him at this point those feelings start coming back. Katara starts reflecting on how her feelings for Zuko have changed.

I also see them becoming closer after the final agni kai. In the words of "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone", there are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll getting shot at with lightning while taking down a comet-fueled firebender is one of them.

I imagine that afterwards Katara sticks around to heal Zuko, and they spend a lot of time in close proximity, a lot of heightened feelings. Zuko realizes that he's in love with her first but he doesn't do anything about it because I see him as less likely to act on it first. He is an introvert to Katara's extrovert and he tends to be more shy especially in romantic scenarios. Besides, he thinks Katara is just being nice to him. It's just her job to take care of him after the agni kai, and the other stuff is just her being a good friend. That's just how Katara is, she's open with her feelings and affectionate with her friends and Zuko doesn't have a lot of experience with having friends, anyway. He doesn't want to screw this up.

Katara, meanwhile, has realized she has feelings for Zuko. She starts to realize it when Zuko starts getting well again and his attention is pulled in a hundred different directions from councilmen and representatives from the other nations. The Fire Nation leaders are suspicious and disdainful of Zuko, and the ones from the other nations are the same but for different reasons, and Katara starts becoming very overprotective of Zuko because she knows he has good intentions and also he needs to be careful with his health because he's not quite healed yet. There are also rumors of uprisings and assassination attempts, and Katara sees the way certain people look at Zuko. So she sticks around and tells herself she's doing it to make sure he's alright and she especially starts resenting it when nobles start coming around presenting their daughters like hello, the Fire Lord has more important things to think about than marrying some stuffy nobleman's daughter. But soon Katara also has her attention drawn to things in the SWT and their place in the new world that she wants to be involved in helping to rebuild, so she knows she can't stay with Zuko forever.

One night when they both know that the time is coming when they won't be together, they sit beside the turtleduck pond and Katara is telling Zuko the names of the constellations, although they look different in the Fire Nation, like a map of the world with the continents swapped. She thinks about how if she leaves this time she doesn't want it to be with anything unresolved between them. She doesn't want to look back and wish she did things differently. She tells Zuko this, and Zuko says that he's used to that feeling, that he's learned to live with those regrets so it's okay. Katara gently reaches up to place a hand on Zuko's scarred cheek, her thumb brushing his lips ever so slightly. Zuko finds himself closing his eyes and leaning forward as Katara leans to place a kiss on the place where she had touched his lips.

The next morning she is gone, but Zuko still feels her hands and her lips on him, and he thinks it is quite possibly the one memory that he will never regret.

[leviiattacks]

Two Faced | Chapter Five

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 3k author note :: just got diagnosed with covid so i have a lot of spare time on my hands so ummm send in any requests you have into my ask box i’d love to try doing headcanons!! → next part is here!!

Erwin sees the confused look you have and now he too seems lost as he shifts his line of vision to Levi. At that moment your husband slams his heel and grinds it onto your foot. Squirming around in your seat dealing with the stinging pain you catch on that you can't let Erwin think you're clueless.

Quickly, the look of confusion washes away from your features and you return his smile. "I'm willing to do what I must."

You think you've ruined this entirely because Erwin's eyes dart suspiciously between you and your husband. However, Hange intervenes, the interference seems to be enough for him to shake off any skepticism he senses.

Two hands hold onto your frame and squeeze your shoulders. Hange is standing up and seems ecstatic."You two are just so evil." they cackle to themself and you play along laughing too. You are not giving Levi the opportunity to ram into your foot again. Hange who is practically a personified ray of Sunshine at all times does still seem a little down, you did pick up on it when you entered the room. Maybe it was just you overthinking, that's what you assure yourself with.

Then it settles in your bones. Evil? Blinking you turn to look at Levi hoping for some sort of indication about whatever is going on.

"She wouldn't listen to me at all, said she felt the need to step in and help the Empire in some way." His tone is monotonous, still not sparing you a glance and you want to kick him in the shins. He's usually much more affectionate and you're afraid Squad Leader Hange and Commander Erwin will figure out this is all a facade.

"It's a noble commitment to put yourself forward for such a risky position, I see why you and Lance Corporal Levi are a sound match." Erwin isn't smiling this time but his tone is content.

Mind now buzzing with ideas you want to fall face first into the carpeted floor of the office spread out like a starfish. You would prefer that instead of being left in the dark. Could they simply mention the name of whatever it is you've apparently offered to do?

Levi's clearly grimaces but then he moves to hold your hand rather boldly. Shaking him off isn't an available option because of his strong grip. "She wouldn't listen to me at all. If I had it my way she wouldn't step anywhere near enemy soil." He grumbles.

The fake concern he's trying to lace in his voice is having an effect on his two colleagues, they're eating it up and believe this act.

Enemy soil? Risky position? He has to be stealthily plotting your death because you see no other reason for why you would be sent off to venture anywhere near the enemy. You aren't even apart of their regime, or any regime for that matter, you're itching with nervousness and want to free your hand from his desperately.

The only emotion this man is good at feigning is straight boredom, he ignores the way your hand shakes and squirms, ignores how your palms are dampening with sweat, instead the way he holds onto you only strengthens. It's surprising that no one has said a word about the lack of chemistry between the two of you.

Suddenly Hange looks down at their pocket watch and hurriedly gets to their feet dragging Erwin up with them too. "Y/N, I have something to tell you later on, please do stop by HQ when you can, I expect that will be soon." They then tell Erwin that there's no time to loiter and that there are more important meetings to attend to.

Erwin leans into your ear and whispers. "He seems disturbed that you're putting yourself at risk. He means well." You wish that were the case but it isn't. Despite that the way Erwin tries to explain Levi's behavior is sweet.

Hange gives you a cute thumbs up but makes it a point that you need to speak later on, even as they're both walking out the door Hange keeps reminding you to meet up later on. The abnormal behavior between you and Levi may have been noticed but you know if that were the case Hange would have been more vocal about it.

"Combat classes start soon. We know this will all be difficult, building you up from scratch is hazardous but all in good time you will serve a key role in the liberation of Paradis."

Erwin's parting words are gracious.

And then both the Commander and Squad Leader leave, the room is empty but Levi doesn't even wait for the door to shut behind your two visitors.

He makes it a priority to throw your hand away from his, he's now methodically using his handkerchief to dust his fingers off. It's oddly ironic and enrages you because he's the one who grappled your hand into his grasp. What's the point when those same hands until recently looped around your waist in the middle of the night?

He thinks your hand is filthy, that you yourself are filthy and disgusting. At least that's what you think he thinks.

Crossing your arms over your chest you make your feelings known to Levi. You're frustrated beyond the way words can describe, it's not about how he refuses to touch you. Admittedly that does hurt you, makes your chest swell in remembrance of the old days but you really just want to know what he's put you up to without your permission.

Not speaking you wait for him to take the hint but he doesn't get it or he refuses to acknowledge your existence, something tells you it's the latter because all he cares about is sanitizing his hands.

He always had been a clean freak but when he was enchanted it didn't take much for him to touch you. Part of you wonders if it's the nature of the touch that he wants to exterminate or the fact it's your skin he's come in contact with which is bothering him.

"Care to explain?"

"Touching someone such as yourself romantically gives me the urge to retch." The confession is as acidic as the after taste one has after a late night of drinking, but he has no problem telling you the blunt truth.

"I see." You shortly reply, you weren't asking about that, your question was directed more towards the conversation which just took place with his colleagues but now knowing he doesn't want to touch you has an emptying effect on your chest.

A silent minute passes, maybe two minutes, you're not sure all you're doing is eyeing the carpet thinking about how you would like to be asphyxiated and brought to your end, you can't handle this for much longer.

"Sign these papers, we need your written consent." His voice shows no hints hints of Lev. Last night may have been the last time you had a chance to witness him.

A stack of documents is thrown in front of you and then you see it right at the top of the pile. A sheet filled with general information, eyes skim over the "Purpose of employment" section and you don't know what churns in your stomach. Is it Exasperation? Nerves? Grief? It can't be pinpointed, it could be a mix of all three.

"An Informant."

Rereading the title you hold the paper in disbelief between your palms. "You told your regiment that I would be willing to spy in on enemy kingdoms?"

His hands rub at his forehead, he's not perturbed at all. "Is it in your blood to be ungrateful?" Brutally cynical his tone is rocky.

He moves - not even towards you but for some reason you flinch stopping him in his tracks almost immediately. Narrow ice cold eyes trace your face carefully for any signs of manipulation or deception. Gulping anxiously you know you have to be careful with what you say or do. Getting too comfortable or casual around him is a risk you are not willing to take.

"I don't think you understand. I do not have the abilities nor the skill to do this. I would cause more issues." You cautiously move to grab his arm but before you get there he takes a wide step back. He's clearly defining that there's a boundary. You won't step into his territory not when you've already invaded a large portion of it for so long.

"I am no witch. I still don't understand what happened." You mutter hoping he believes you or at least tries to.

"Then die." Levi hisses. He fixes you with his poisonous stare. "Make it quick."

Curse yourself to a life with this man who every step of the way is hoping for your death - maybe he'll even push you towards it purposefully one day. The alternative choice available is to die by the hands of that same man right now.

Guilt and regret are what you feel, you can't look death in the eye proudly. Not right now. If you can't commit to the promise you made mother then there is truly no point in making your way to the afterlife.

Cowardice is not the cause of death you want to present her with.

With a heavy heart you sign the papers.

It's been a few days since then, you've received training from some of Levi's squad, at first the combat is nerve wracking but you get to a level where you feel comfortable in terms of defense.

Oluo is slow, you've picked up on the way his stance predicts every move he's about to make. You're thankful for that because it makes training easier, he's oblivious to just how easy it is to read his movements and you snigger at that. Today he's trying a new technique, it consists of attempting to dive in the direction of one of your shoulders and suddenly darting at the other. It catches you off guard for a second but it's simple to block him. Jumping back from another surprise attack you lunge forward as if you're aiming for his face. He lights up thinking this is his chance unbeknownst to him you've already seen the open opportunity you've been waiting for. You can change the wager in this brawl. Swiftly ducking you undercut him with one of your legs, his balance has been knocked and he stumbles teetering by a thread.

A solid kick to his stomach is all it takes for him to collapse to the ground grumbling in vexation.

Mikasa has been helping you with one on one combat and the extra hours of training behind the stables has clearly been of benefit.

Thinking back to your training sessions with Mikasa you frown, not because of the way she flipped you and shoved you into the dirt, no that part was quite exhilarating. It's Sasha. She's been on your mind. She has to be feeling left out, that's your fault you've kept her in the dark about joining the regime, how could you attend training with her? Your maid waiting on you whilst you were training? Impossible.

The last problem you wish to arise is everyone finding out you're Duchess Ackerman. No one has to know about that minor detail, in fact when you informed Hange and Erwin of your decision they strongly agreed it would be best to hide it.

"I think we should get you strapped into some gear. See how good you really are in the dexterity department." Oluo is spitefully mumbling under his breath red faced.

Offering him your hand he looks like he wants to smack it away, You don't have time for this, you were planning on dropping by and paying Hange their more than overdue visit after training hours were up.

ODM-gear doesn't look too hard, you're sure you can work out the mechanisms if given some time. Calculating and shifting time blocks in your head you can come to an end at Six, if and only if you're able to rush past ODM training.

"Okay, I admit you were tired today I could tell. I'll strap myself into some gear."

At this new new challenge Oluo willingly takes your hand and you heave him up.

He's got a cocky shit-eating grin sprawled across his face as he pats your back enthusiastically.

"Good luck, you're in for one hell of a ride."

Three dimensional ODM-gear, a contraption that is very different to a sword or dagger. Most soldiers find it difficult to master the balancing of all their body weight whilst simultaneously gliding through the air with the grapple hooks. This is why introductory lessons in balance, momentum and effective weight distribution are a must.

It's been instructed that you won't be using ODM-gear nearly as much as other members of the regiment, you're training to become a spy after all and ODM-gear is very obviously visible when a person is strapped into their uniform. Nevertheless it's still a requirement to be able to use it. It's a hurdle because it's not your forte by any means but you can't continue avoiding it.

When living as the Duchess you deemed it pivotal to only interact with a limited number of Levi's colleagues, those who worked at the estate couldn't be avoided such as Mikasa but apart from that Hange was the only outsider you spoke to (Before Erwin had come along). You don't know if you regret that decision because it's definitely why everyone is cackling as you thrash around, they have no idea he has a wife and if they do they show no inclination of knowing you are that woman.

Sniggers can be heard as you struggle to center your strength fully, your instructor bellows at you. "No, come on. STOP FLAILING AROUND!" Particles of his saliva fly in your face and that only feeds into your embarrassment. Paralyzed you don't know what to do, he tells you to not move around then the next minute barks at you to not give up, repeats that you have the agility level equivalent of a sick child.

You've been stuck in this upside down position for more time than you can imagine, at some point a large majority of the scouts including Oluo double down in laughter whenever you make a mistake - they berate you when you are trying your best.

Legs kicking out you're panicking and want to escape the harness you're in.

Oluo was right, nothing could prepare you for this.

Mikasa when she isn't busy assisting Levi is a part of the regime too, that's why she's grinding her teeth this morning when she walks into the training grounds and sees the whole scene play out right before her eyes.

She wants to desperately step in and stop this because you being forced into ODM training without having your core strength developed is unfair.

Then a yell is heard from the crowd "GO Y/N!! LISTEN TO ME ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS KEEP CALM!" Both you and Mikasa turn to see Sasha standing next to her.

Sasha? Mikasa knows very well how you forbade her to follow you today, you gave her the day off to visit her family.

"I thought Y/N warned yo-"

"I am dedicated in my service to the Lady, if she chooses to do this I will be by her side to support her. She does not have to feel embarrassed."

Members of the corps are eyeing her weirdly when she says "Lady" she doesn't know you're keeping your identity secret, that was the reason for giving her time away, you were afraid she'd slip up and expose you but simply hearing Sasha proudly announce her commitment for you in front of all these people knocks the wind right out of your chest. You've never felt this much importance before.

Sasha's motivation is all you need because by a miraculous turn of events you manage to steady your breathing pattern and find it within yourself to focus on your core. Wobbling shakily the transition is far from smooth but you flip yourself right side up, the muscles in your calf ache and throb with pain but you've done it.

Grinning from ear to ear at your two friends you feel light-headed with relief.

"Took her long enough." Levi sneers. He's made his way to the front of the crowd, you wonder when he got here. Beaming at him you think your presentation might be enough to discourage his usual response. You're incorrect.

"She's a shame to this squad, there is no need in motivating someone of her rank." Shallow breaths puffing out of you it comes to your attention that he's addressing Sasha.

She ignores what he has to say about you and stays silent, any normal person would have their head hanging down in shame but she looks into his eyes with a determination that takes your breath away.

He pays her no mind after that and turns back to where you're still struggling to keep steady. "Don't think you're hot shit." Your bottom teeth dig into your lip, and your throat suddenly clamps down on you restricting your breath. "She's no good at combat, no good at using her gear. Do you only excel at spreading lies, Cadet?" The way he's now completely indignant in the way he speaks stings. He doesn't even bother to sound normal in front of Mikasa or Sasha anymore, it makes you manually hollow your cheeks trying to keep your tears at bay.

Lies, you know what he's referencing. You want to grab him by the collar of his shirt and throw him to the muddy ground. That's what he deserves for prodding and poking at your vulnerabilities.

He doesn't understand the degree at which all these sudden changes are affecting you, in his eyes this is light work and shouldn't impact you at all, that's why when you feel a muscle contraction and reel backwards, rapidly falling back into that cursed upside down position. He scoffs, doesn't even move to check if you're okay.

Whispers circle around you and even some of the cadets who participated in ridiculing you step forward to take you out of your harness. However, Sasha and Mikasa get there first and shoot them with their intense glares, the both of them work on hoisting you out of your gear.

Levi takes one last look at you before he storms away convinced you're faking, what else would a runt like you do to escape the situation?

In his mind you lost your momentum and your ship capsized because of your own self sabotage.

Little does he know all that has truly lost momentum is the inner-workings of your heart and that is all thanks to him.

[translations-by-aiimee]

Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 3

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

TW for this chapter: Mentions of slave trafficking

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 3 - Born Without Tears

The red-dressed beauty lightly opened his vermilion lips and blew into the jade flute. The flute sound was full of lingering affection, softly touching his heart, as if he was inviting all listeners to join the red curtain and share the scenery together.

Song Qingshi's mother was an internationally renowned pianist. Because of her influence, music had become Song Qingshi's only hobby outside of school. In the last days of Song Qingshi's life, he had lost all body functions, but his consciousness was extremely clear.

His mother invested heavily in installing top-notch audio equipment in his room to play music everyday. She also asked top musicians in various fields to give him a small concert every day.

Music rescued him from the brink of despair and soothed his heart. During this special time, Song Qingshi was particularly sensitive to the emotions in music. He could hear the player's tenderness in the passionate piano music, and he could also find hidden encouragement in the sad and solemn guzheng music. . .

Now, he heard the familiar struggle and despair in the lingering and affectionate sound of the flute.

Song Qingshi finally raised his head, staring at the brilliant phoenix in a daze. He could no longer look away.

Jin FeiRen found out that Song Qing finally became interested in one of the beauties, and he was overjoyed: "Song Xianzun is interested in this slave? His name is Yue Wuhuan, naturally charming, a rare wood single-spirit root. That means he's much more resistant when tossing him around in bed. The more you rough him up, the more unhinged he comes. Those who have tried it have never failed to boast about it. Do you want to taste him first?"

Song Qingshi's ears were reddened by his explicit recommendation. He quickly turned his eyes away, and said dumbly: "No need."

"Medicine Master Xianzun is clean and does not engage in those activities. If you don't love these things, don't force him, friend." LingBao Xianzun came over, pointing to Yue Wuhuan and exclaimed, "If I remember, was this the best product sold by Xie Que? This immortal world is still the best place for him to raise beautiful people; one is more tasteful than the last. Alas, I have a friend who is his good friend, and all kinds of better goods will be sold to you first."

Jin FeiRen waved his hand and said, "You flatter me. What he really has a good relationship with are thirty hu of mermaid pearls."

LingBao Xianzun laughed: "If all friendships in the world could be created with money, my friend would be surrounded by the most affectionate people in the world. Come, come, let me have three cups with my friend and celebrate the wind and moon together.

Jin FeiRen also laughed, and ordered the young man in his arms to fill a glass of wine and drink with LingBao Xianzun.

LingBao Xianzun had already drunk a lot. He was slightly drunk. He leaned against the table and listened to the flute. He exclaimed: "I remember that when this beauty first entered this place, he was reluctant to accompany guests, even under the control of Acacia Seal. It was very interesting to see, but now he has become so promiscuous, and his flavour has changed. You have great methods, my friend."

Jin FeiRen shook his head: "It's a pity that this beauty doesn't cry no matter how rough you toss him around. He was born without tears, and because of that, some of his appeal has been lost."

Song Qingshi heard the professional question and couldn't help answering: "Being born without tears may be a problem with the lacrimal secretion system."

Jin Fei was dumbfounded for a moment. He appreciated his friendship with Song Qingshi, but he couldn't keep up with his medical obsession. He had to laugh awkwardly and switch off the topic: "Don't look at this beauty's promiscuity deceive you. In the mortal world, he was also a noble and respectable prince. When he was eight years old, Xie Que found that he had excellent aptitude when he was looking for beauties in the mortal world, so he showed his supernatural powers and presented the emperor with a pill for prolonging life. The old emperor was so happy that he happily gave his son to the immortal leader. Xie Que is also an ingenious person. He will seriously accept mortals with spiritual roots as disciples, and coax them to trust him. Then he uses that trust to trick them to sign the spiritual contract of voluntary slavery. He then teaches them superficial techniques, and, when they appear to be at their peak, brands them with the Acacia Seal. He always gets them when the colour is at the best time for picking, and then sells them to the brothels to serve in their rooms.

Although everyone knew he was taking advantage of those loopholes, they all turned a blind eye and eventually accepted this method of slave trafficking."

The Yanshou Pill can only be taken once to extend someone's life to reach 100 years old.

Cultivators can live at least three hundred years so long as they build a good foundation base. They don't need this tasteless kind of thing at all. Most of them are bought for their mortal servants. The price is very cheap, only worth two low-grade spirit stones. Such huge profits have continued to promote the slave trade.

There is an endless stream of cultivators in the trade, but none of them are well-versed as Xie Que.

Song Qingshi was surprised to find in his memory that the original body had seen Xie Que before.

That spring, the original body was studying a new way to create pills behind closed doors. Xie Que came to seek medical treatment with a comatose child. The child was a mortal, about eleven or twelve years old, with a rare pure yang physique and a wood spiritual root. Moreover, when he reached the third rank, his talents were different, and he was even better than some of the wasted descendants of various immortal families. Xie Que said that it was his new apprentice who had recruited more than three years ago. When he went to the mountains to practice, he was bitten by a Devil Mask Snake. Devil Mask Snakes are not extremely poisonous, but they will turn the faces of the poisoned person different colours, just like they were wearing a mask.

The original body typically didn't treat mortals, but Xie cried out in tears, saying that this was his most important apprentice, and he was willing to pay a high price to save him. The original body was in a good mood at the time, and was annoyed by his repeated crying. The Devil Mask Snake poison was also easy to detoxify. He finally relented and ordered a servant to give him two detoxification pills and ordered Xie Que not to cry again.

Xie Que stayed beside the apprentice’s bed and took care of him for three days. The apprentice woke up from a coma, his body no longer in a serious condition, but it took time for the ghost marks on his face to disappear. They stayed in the valley for half a month, and waited until his apprentice's face fully recovered.

During that time, the peach blossoms in the medicine garden bloomed just right, like red brocade all over the sky. When the original body encounters a problem with his alchemy, he often sits in a high place and looks at the peach blossoms and thinks. Every time, the original body would see a small figure under the peach blossom practicing swordsmanship. He practiced in the morning, at noon, and at night, as if it had become a landscape of symbiosis with the peach blossoms.

Mortals trying to cultivate immortality are like a fish leaping over a dragon's gate. The path comes with many difficulties and dangers, and there are few successful ones.

Xie Que was always by his side, with a worried expression on his face. He was either afraid that he would drop his sword or that he would become exhausted. The two quarreled several times. On a whim, the original's body and mind let out a spiritual thought to investigate. He heard the child say to Xie Que: "Master, although mortals are not as good as immortals, my father taught me to reward my diligence, and diligence can make up for my weaknesses. So I have to work harder and never waste time."

"What you said makes sense," Xie Que tried to persuade him with a bitter face. "Your injury has not healed. I'm afraid you might hurt your body. And. . . why do you have to practice sword? Entertaining cultivation, wouldn’t it be better for you to learn some flute, piano or something?"

"Master taught me to use music to cultivate Taoism is very good," the child scratched his head embarrassedly. "But I like swords, I want to be like Mo Yuan Jianzun. Master, rest assured, I know all the songs you taught me. I practiced better than my senior brothers and sisters, and I definitely don't put off practice."

Xie Que had no choice but to say: "I will find you the right ice silk gloves later. You must wear them when you practice swords. You must soak your hands with lotion at night to make your hands soft. This will prevent calluses, so you won't miss the subsequent practice."

The child cheered, excitedly: "Master, you are so kind."

"Don't get hurt," Xie Que lightly knocked on his forehead and complained. "You naughty devil. Your master is terrified. From now on, stay in the sects when you practice, and you are not allowed to go to the back mountains. Take breaks as well to avoid ruining your eyes."

The child accepted all these conditions.

Xie Que leaned over, rubbed his head gently, and sighed: "You don't know how much Master values you. . ."

"I know." The child raised his head and said in a serious voice: "I know that the immortal world looks down on mortals that cultivate immortality, and even looks down on the master who only accepts mortals as disciples. I don't want to shame my master, so I must cultivate a Golden Core to prove to everyone that Master’s vision is right!"

Xie Que looked at his face silently, his eyes distant and difficult to distinguish.

The child pulled Xie Que's sleeves, turned his eyes, and said embarrassedly: "Wuhuan likes Master the most!"

Xie Que stretched out his fingertips, stroked the child's colorful face, looked carefully, and finally stopped reluctantly on the small red mole under his left eye, which was dazzlingly beautiful. He was silent for a long time, showing a very kind smile: "Master also likes you the most."

. . .

[lauraluna98]

Bernadette's Photograph [Diakko one shot]

Pairing: Diana Cavendish /Akko Kagari, Bernadette Cavendish/ Laura McLaren (OC), Amanda/ Constanze/ Jasminka, Hannah/ Avery, Barbara/ Lotte

Words: 18K

Laura and Bernadette art made by my friend chek out her awesome stuff: https://www.wattpad.com/user/-Diana_Cavendish

Summary \/

Four years have passed since Akko arrived at Luna Nova. In the previous year, the girls she had befriended graduated from the academy and each one went their separate ways, just like Kagari, who had to go through a lot during her studies, including meeting a girl named Diana Cavendish, whom she began to date. When she graduated and was sure she would return to Japan, she received an invitation from the Scottish girl to live in the family's mansion and an affectionate proposal from the beautiful blonde who asked her to marry her.

Akko spent a long time adapting and experiencing many ups and downs, sometimes having to deal with Daryl and her daughters' disrespect, but this the girl got used to, even more so with the fact that Diana was a lesbian, shocking the entire noble class.

One day like any other Akko was rummaging through Bernadette Cavendish's old bedroom until she found something that had been a huge family secret until then.

Upon discovering this secret Akko, decides that she wants to make a surprise involving the photograph she eventually found, but why is a photograph a secret and why does it get to the point of creating so much?

Read this story and find out.

It was a winter morning in Edinburgh, it had been a few months since the girls' graduation from Luna Nova, the year 2021 had started a few days ago. Akko planned to start her career as Shiny Akko, but she still faced conflicts within the mansion, as well as no from many witches who didn't want to have their reputation linked to something comical and funny, even with Kagari saving everyone, the conservatism in society still remained. Diana was the leader of the Cavendish family, after going through Daryl's proposal for a marriage of interest with James Mark II, the girl was getting colder and sadder, after all she remembered something, starting to ignore little by little Kagari, which was quite strange. Diana used to be cold, but not at that point. Akko was waking up next to Diana and soon noticed that the Cavendish had already gotten up.

POV Akko:

Diana has been very cold lately, colder than this place, holy shit, for the nine witches... I thought it would be wonderful to move here, but we can barely get along... What the fuck? Ever since that James Mark II showed up here, she's been like this... More like she's being forced to marry him... But Diana is the head of the family Ahh... I'm getting up from here.

I get up and go to the bathroom of the huge suite, brush my teeth, take off my crimson robe with "Akko" written on it, put it next to my fiancée's cyan robe, open the shower and start to take a bath, the drops of water washed my body as if they were washing my soul, it was really nice to take a bath in that bathroom, the water was always at the ideal temperature. As soon as I get out of the shower I take a towel, dry my body, wrap myself in it and go into the huge closet of our room, I put on a t-shirt, an overcoat, since it was very cold, "New, as if it wasn't cold every day here in Scotland" and a pair of sweatpants, when I finish getting dressed I put on my bunny slippers and walk through the corridors to the dining room, where I find Anna waiting for me outside the door.

- Good morning Miss Kagari, Miss Cavendish told me to stay here waiting for you to wake up, she is waiting for you in the dining room, let me take you there- Anna said always with her softness of speech, "The handmaids and the butlers were the only nice people in the house.

- Ah, yes thank you Anna, I was just leaving, I appreciate you waiting for me so long... I'm sorry if I overslept," I say, being gentle as always with the sweet lady.

POV Diana:

I woke up that morning down, after another week of having that conversation with Daryl, that snake is still the same, I knew she had only let her guard down since Akko and I saved her from that ritual interference, at least she has no authority at all, I can decide on my own who I marry.... Only that James Mark... He was one of the Appleton students who hang out with Louis Blackwell.... Not to mention he has my father's name on him... Although he was no example of a person, he abandoned me and my mother, since I was a little girl... just because the family was starting to have financial problems. That damned conversation with Daryl... I can't leave Akko... But I have to have heirs or heiresses... Ah Saint Beatrix Lesbian... The Cavendish family only allows to succeed children conceived here by both people.... And how am I going to make one with Akko, being that we are two girls.... Ah... What am I going to do... I can't allow Daryl's lineage to be the dominant one...

While I was in my mental monologue, I was approached by my second cousins, Amalie and Alicia, Merrill's daughters.

- Lesbian cousin! Lesbian cousin! Look what Grandma wrote for you," say the two children handing me the envelope.

- Oh thank you - I say, faking a positive reaction.

"Keep on with your scissors, I don't like your girlfriend, but she guarantees me my lineage ahead, besides teaching a pure lineage, without this talk of turning lesbian witches. Remember that fingers do not reproduce. With love and affection your Aunt Daryl".

Really? It was kind of just sending a message, what's the need to write an envelope, I won't argue any further, let her keep these silly little letters.

I take the letter, crumple it with my hands and throw it into a trash can, using my wand to move the crumpled paper into the container, when I finish throwing the trash out, I notice that my girlfriend had just arrived accompanied by Anna.

POV Akko:

- Good morning my love! - I say all radiant and go towards my girlfriend.

We come close to each other, exchange lips with a seal, soon after we both stare at each other, I as usual am faced with that emotionless and cold face of Diana, colder than Scotland itself I would say. I sit down on the chair facing my girlfriend and start to eat, attacking the pancakes as usual.

- Love Harajuku pancakes! How cute, I love it - I say dipping a pancake and dousing it with maple syrup. I end up remembering my first time with Diana and almost burst out laughing, but I held back as much as I could.

- Akko! What's so funny - said Diana trying to force a refined accent, being that I know how she spoke in a totally different way to me.

- Nothing no my love, I just remembered when I held your breasts that day and said they looked like Harajuku pancakes - I say starting to laugh, while Diana let out a slight laugh, seeing my girlfriend laughing makes me even a little happier, it was rare to see the cute cabbage look like that, even more after that guy came here.

- Akko! Don't talk that kind of dirty talk, someone might hear it - she said with the Scottish accent she used to hear a lot, she thought it was quite cute.

- It's pretty cute cabbage - I say trying to get more laughs out of Diana, but I end up making her blush, but right after that my girlfriend starts to laugh and snort a little, it was cute; she looked like a little pig.

- Akko! Akko! Stop it! I'm not in the moment for this - she said again with her Scottish accent, it was really nice to see Diana giggling a little.

POV Diana:

Oh crap, Akko is getting me, she knows how to lighten my mood... But I have to be careful, she has become very attached to me... What do I do...? Is it worth it...? Daryl wants me not to leave any offspring or else I can make this plan of hers turn against her.... I can do what she wanted to do to me.... But the difference is that Amalie and Alicia will have a kinder upbringing.... I don't know, I have to talk to Akko about this, I can see how she is getting upset about all this.

As I was sinking in my thoughts, I end up coming back with two clicks of a finger, it was Akko, as usual, she kept talking my name, so I decided to answer her.

- Huh? Akko. What is it my love? - I say, coming back to reality, I used to sink too deep into my thoughts.

- Again Diana? Every day you are sinking into these thoughts... What's going on in your head so much? - She said worriedly, trying to find out about me? I think I should open my mouth at once, I don't want to stall her until the last minute like Chariot did to her four years ago...

- Eh... Love... I... I try to say, but... Damn I'm not ready, how can I tell her... - I... We need to talk more... I want to talk about something that ails me... Something that made me like this... - I say as Akko looks at me worriedly, but then puts her hands on my cheek.

- Really? It's okay honey, I was getting agony... You are already cold as Scotland, this way it seems like the North Pole - She said as always talking about Scotland being too cold, this girl never gets used to the normal climate here. As always she reacts this way as if she were a child.

I just nod my head and take Akko with me to one of the offices in the house, where I used to work and study, since I became a leader, I stay there day after day, negotiating about how to deal with the riches, but I have to stop running away from the subject, I will get straight to the point with Akko.

- Ah the office - said Akko inflating her cheeks, she hated the place because I spent too much time there, working and barely paying attention to my love, but what can I do? I have responsibilities, I'm an adult, not like my aunt.

- Love... I... A... Reason - I say with much trepidation, damn Diana, come on girl, where is your stature girl - The reason why I was like this was because of that boy, more specifically about a conversation I had with Daryl, she has been pressuring me, or I would marry this James and save the family financially at once, or else continue with you... Of course I decided what was best for me... That would be to stay with you, even if it didn't give me heirs... - I said almost in tears, but soon Akko comes and starts looking at me confused, as if she thought it was a bit silly, as if I was making a drama.

- Are you dying because you can't be a mother? Is that right? Diana, what about Violet and Sarah? Nothing is impossible for magic, we just have to use the fertility stone," she said shrugging, as always believing that children's story, honestly, my mother used to tell me this a lot, but I'm sure it was just a nice way for her to say that it was okay to be a lesbian. Akko never understands things... I will have to be realistic with her, this is not a joke.

- Akko... This is a children's tale, my mother used to say the same thing when she was alive... The difference is that I was 5 years old... The fertility stone is a metaphor for artificial insemination... Chariot and Croix used it to make their twins... Do you happen to know that Croix is Trans? She froze her sperm before starting the treatment, maybe they said that to cheer you up... - I end up saying it in a too cold way, I shouldn't exaggerate too much, but when Akko believes in something she becomes very attached to it.

- Ah... I forgot this detail, but they told me it was the fertility stone, Chariot even said that in her family's residence there is one of the relics to be made and the other one is in yours... - She said until I finished completing it.

- And the stone of love, which is made with a kiss of love in a cave north of here... I know, I know, I know this story very well my love... No need to repeat it... If there really was such a thing, don't you think it would be full of lesbian witch couples? Or that I wouldn't be in this dilemma right now? Sorry for the words, my love... But I don't want to break your hope... Love even if we used artificial insemination, there is still something that gets in my way, here in the Cavendish family residence only children who are manufactured here and born here can take the place of the family, so even if we had a daughter, or adopted one she and the whole lineage would never take my place... It could even cause a death; she would risk her life love.... So sorry - I say almost in tears, I even put my hand on Akko's shoulder, but she just seemed to ignore all that, as if she didn't give a damn, it didn't even seem that this girl with eyes like rubies, would turn 20 years old?

POV Akko:

Ah, what a drag! Diana is still stubborn and closed-minded and doesn't believe in things! Nothing is impossible for magic, if we even managed to turn even other animals temporarily, saved the world from a missile that was going at a speed that could kill us, went to space and the radiation up there didn't kill us and yet she still thinks it's just a legend... Holy shit.

- Nothing is impossible for magic Diana! Believe it! Stop being so annoying and stubborn! - I said, inflating my cheeks and getting angry.

- The only boring and stubborn one here is you! Akko, honestly stop being so stubborn to think that magic changes everything... If it did, I wouldn't be in this situation... Ah... What the hell... Why... Why are you so Akko, why don't you think a little more realistically? - I said to Cavenboring trying to leave my dreams aside, but you know what, I'm not going to fill the patience of the perfect and correct lady.

- Oh you know what? Fuck it, I don't want to argue over nonsense like that, keep up this lack of belief in things, I still think the fertility stone is real, I won't change your Cavenboring thinking and you won't change mine, um! - I say turning my face and leaving the office, until the boring cabbage opens its mouth again.

- Akko, you can't keep turning your face to the problems like that, you're already 19 years old, how will Shiny Akko be if you keep behaving like a child - said Cavenboring being Cavenboring as always, I just ignored and left the office, as soon as I passed by the door I got a fright with the door, I have no doubt that Diana has used a spell to knock with force and got angry, play nice, but gets angry too.

I inflate my cheeks and lean against the doors with my arms crossed, all I could think about was how boring Diana always was, she wanted to be neat and methodical with everything, it didn't even seem like we saved the world together, it didn't even seem like she really believes that with magic she can do anything, she even seemed like boring Finnelan.

POV Diana:

Oh, what the hell! Because I had to fight with Akko... I didn't want to be so hard on her, but it seems that Akko doesn't mature, this way it's hard to help her with this dream of becoming Shiny Akko, I think I'll try to relax a little, then I'll talk to Akko... I'll try to relax, I can't work with my head like this... I still have to see how I'm going to maintain my savings...

I sit down in my armchair, open my laptop, where I start to open on the bank's website, but I was not in the mood to even think of any smart way to get more money, we were only with enough to maintain the huge mansion and pay the employees... I didn't want to rent it because it is a traditional place and it has a lot of things that can break and are precious... Oh fuck, I'm not in the mood to think about that right now.

On an impulse I decide to procrastinate a little, I open the internet and immediately go to the video site, where on the home page there was a video that interested me a lot on the official channel of the World Broom Racing Championship competition... I remember that as a child I dreamed of one day being a broom racer like Laura McLaren... How ironic to see that there is going to be a replay of the 1991 Irish GP, I think I will watch it to cheer up the nerves, Laura McLaren was amazing in that race, she became champion with 5 races to go.... I don't know why, but every time I talk about her I have good memories... As if she was someone familiar... I don't know, maybe it's just me having memories from when I was a kid, I know my mom liked broom races...

POV Akko:

I had been leaning against that door for a long time, I don't have to waste my time... Diana must have gone to relieve her nerves, if she did that I should do it too... I take a deep breath, look at one of the paintings in the corridor, being one of her mother, and start to talk to myself, I don't know why. I felt like I wanted to talk to the painting as if it was going to answer me.

- Ahh... My mother-in-law... Why is your daughter so complicated like this... So much we learned in Luna Nova, so much we learned, but she doesn't want to believe in the fertility stone... What do I do? Give me some sign - At the moment I say this the picture of Diana's mother disassembles the bottom part and the part that was her picture starts to fly.

It could only be a ghost, not surprising since this mansion is full of them, would this be the one of Diana's mother, I don't know... All I know is that I better get this picture right away or someone will notice that if it's lost I could be in trouble, if someone realizes that the picture of Diana's mother has been damaged... I don't want to go two weeks without loving my wife.... Diana always takes her punishment hard...

I go running after that damn picture, but it kept flying and very fast, sure it was a ghost.... I didn't have my wand in hand, I didn't even learn spells without a wand, I still have things to perfect. Fucking fast picture... I have to get there soon or I will be lost.... Come on Akko take it.

I kept following that fucking picture through the halls of the mansion, I even suspected it might be a prank by Amalie or Alicia, but they barely knew how to use a wand and were two years old, maybe it was her mother or her copy sister? Or even the cow of the grandmother of those two wanting to make me look ridiculous. Whatever it is I feel I have to get this damn picture.

Until the picture makes a turn, and a very strong wind hits a door that opens and through it the picture of Diana's mother comes in, I followed what I could, until I jumped on the bed that was in the room and caught the air, only I didn't realize that I was right in front of a closet, this makes me bump into everything in the closet, and right after that a photo album falls on top of my head and along with it one of the pictures comes out of that album, getting right in front of my face.

When I took that picture of the face, I went into shock, it was Diana's mother, with a redhead and a baby, I think it must be little Cavenchata, I'm sure, the two of them had rings on their fingers, they were similar rings from what I noticed, I was just thinking that it was just bullshit, since Diana's mother had to have only one friend, I remember she already showed a picture of her father? By the way, what a scurvy little fellow... Sorry Diana, but he abandoned his mother when she was sick and depressed, just because the Cavendish family was struggling? A shame, but at the same time no... Who died the following year... He had a daughter and a wife and didn't take care of...

I stopped thinking about Diana's family, since I didn't want to waste my time with this kind of nonsense, so I made sure to look at the back of the picture, since it was quite common for this kind of album picture to have some text, since it was in a place it shouldn't be... Why not take advantage of my curiosity to read and go through these things. Let's hope that nobody catches me at least...

"Goodbye Bernadette... I love you so much my love.... Daryl went too far, she shouldn't have done that.... Save this picture at least for the day we are healed, take good care of our daughter Diana... This will be our last photo before my return... This will never be a goodbye, but a goodbye... With all the love in the world L.M 01/09/2001."

I turned white, I turned a stone, I was in shock, I was without reaction.... L.M.... This redhead must be L.M, it can't be Diana's father, since his name is James and so who would this L.M be? What do you mean daughter? Our daughter on top of that! Does that mean that... Ah Diana... She has a lot of explaining to do now... Wait a minute... That makes Diana the fruit of a couple of women... But was L.M. trans? Just like Croix? Or is the fertility stone real? Ahhh! I don't know... I'm going to believe the second one a lot.... May the second one be real.... I really want to be a mother! I want Diana to come to me and tell me that she was right... But is this L.M. alive? Neither of Diana's parents are alive...

I could even make a surprise for Diana.... If L.M. is alive I might actually get a point out of it... Oh, let's go through this photo album some more while I'm here... Ah... Now that I noticed, it is the room of that hideous carpet that Diana loves, it even looks like it was made by a seven year old child, that unicorn, Beatrix looks beautiful, but that unicorn looks like a skinny horse with one horn... Hahahaha... Let's stop fooling around... I want to see if there are more pictures.

I stay for a few minutes looking at each picture, I didn't even have a notion of time, but I knew that at some point I had to stop, that L.M. is very beautiful, very cute, she is even familiar, I remember that Diana has already watched a very boring broomstick racing documentary movie with her... Bleh, now I remembered, it is just a broomstick race around a track, it doesn't have a maneuver or anything, what's the fun of seeing the same thing you have with a car on a broomstick? What was the name of it again? I don't remember... It was something to do with cars, that I am sure, but I have to say that they are very cute together, I never thought that Diana had another mother, I will believe it, but I really need to know who she is, it can help me with my plan.

I close that album and take a picture using my cell phone, of that picture where the two mothers of Diana and the little Cavenboring were, after taking the picture I put the cell phone in my pocket, besides also putting everything in place, I take out a wand that was in that room and use a spell that repairs all the shelves in the closet, besides also taking the picture of the cabbage mother of my little girlfriend so cute, but as soon as I leave the room, I end up unintentionally running into Diana's aunt's cow, she as always with that slutty look of hers.

- What are you doing here? - said the snake that kept looking at me with disgust.

- Nothing, nothing that is of interest to you... Diana just asked me to come... - I said trying to lie, but that damn thing completes me.

- To my sister's room? What would be in Bernadette's room that would interest Diana? And you have no respect for someone who has died, you don't just walk into the room of a person who has died here, have more respect for... - Said Diana's aunt trying to act saintly and correct, but I quickly retorted that snake.

- Just as you had respect for her when she was alive? Or when you wanted to sell the family's things, without even respecting your sister's memory - I retort in the best way, leaving that snake clenching its fists in anger.

- Listen here, you little brat! Who do you think you are to talk to me like that? Just because you have the protection of my niece, that doesn't give you the right to retort like that. If it weren't for her I'd poison you until you regret saying such things. - Said that cow trying to scare me, I just walked away ignoring her, returning from where I had seen the picture of Diana's mother flying away.

POV Diana:

These minutes watching the 1991 Irish GP really made me feel better, even more seeing how Laura McLaren is an amazing racer, she outdoes herself at every turn, it made me have a nostalgic feeling, when I was a kid and watched it with my mom... She would always put on these races that she liked to watch, and I would watch along because it was always nice to see mom smiling and getting out of bed every once in a while, she would rarely crack a smile or two...

Well, I guess I'll go see Akko, she must have eased her nerves, I just really hope she doesn't come out and talk about that fertility stone thing again, but if she does that's fine, I'll just ignore Akko's childishness.

I get up, close my laptop, go to the door and as soon as I open it, I am faced with Akko putting a picture, I think it was of my mother, back into a frame, I would get angry due to my girlfriend being clumsy, breaking a picture, even more so of my mother, but I will leave it aside, Akko being Akko....

- Ah... Diana! I... A ghost, a ghost knocked over your mother's picture and ended up making it fall - She said trying to invent some excuse, but I believed her a little, after all I know there are ghosts around here, I just don't understand why Akko stayed all the time here in front, poor my love.

- Ah yes a ghost, but I appreciate you trying to tidy up this mess, let's have some lunch love.... Sorry for being a bit thick.... - I said trying to make Akko feel better, who smiled at me and hugged me.

I go with my girlfriend to the dining room where we stayed for lunch, there was my aunt, cousins and the two pests, I mean... Amalie and Alicia... They are not pests; they are just influenced by their mother and grandmother... Poor things... Why do you have such an upbringing... It's a sin, really...

The minutes go by, I was eating normally next to my girlfriend Akko, she always being sweet and giving me food in my mouth, sometimes we even exchanged a few kisses, as always, my aunt being a killjoy, or she stopped the kisses telling us not to do it or she kept covering the faces of the two girls so as not to influence them. I don't understand why this is necessary, we are in new times, she was just being retrograde. This made me nervous, those two are children, they have to be influenced to think in a new way, not like this...

POV Akko:

Lunch was like every other lunch at the mansion, I always tried to be affectionate and cute, sometimes exchanging cuddles with Diana, but that snake of Diana's aunt was always a pain in the ass, getting ahead, stalling any kiss from us... I was getting pretty tired of this, it was every lunch and dinner, I just wish I could slap that old woman in the face, make her swallow that awful green lipstick she wears every hour, even at lunchtime.

When lunch was over, I went with Diana through the hallways, taking her to the office again, I gave my girlfriend a kiss and then went to my room, where I started going through my cell phone, I had the picture of that L.M. in hand, all I needed to do was use the image search. I used an editor cropping that photo, where I left only the redhead and then I used the search.

"Laura McLaren"

"Former Broom Racer"

It was the one, I was already suspicious, the initials and the person in the picture really matched, but how would I find this Laura and talk to her, surely she must be an important person in the world of witches? Four feet ten! How short hahaha, this woman is shorter than Constanze, how did such a short woman make Diana, people, Diana is almost a pole...

"Laura McLaren is a former broom racer, known as the flying irish, shortie, designer racer, the queen, raced from 1991 until 2001 in the World Broom Racing Championship, Eight time champion winning titles in the 1991, 1995, 1996, 1997, 1998, 1999, 2000 and 2001 seasons, she was quite remarkable for how dominant and extremely skilled she was on a broom, she is known to be many times the greatest broom racer in history.... Worldpedia"

"Birth: January 14, 1972 (Age 49), Dublin, Ireland"

"Height: 1.47m"

"Victories: 109"

"Titles: 8 (1991-1995-1996-1997-1998-1999-2000-2001)"

"First race: Brazilian GP 1991"

"Last race: Australian GP 2001"

"See more..."

After a quick read of that information I realized that this was a very important witch, not for nothing that Diana had admiration for her, but how am I going to talk to Laura McLaren if she is such an influential witch? When I was younger I tried to talk to Chariot on the Internet, but I just kept talking to myself. Famous people like that don't use the profile with the most followers to talk to people. Well, let's have a look, maybe this Laura McLaren is not that famous.

I went on Witcher, Laura McLaren's profile had about 4 million followers, and it's still a verified profile, outside that the DM is not open, so you don't even have a chance to get it on the Witcher profile. Let's look at Istagraph... It's also the same thing, she has 800,000 followers on that one and still has the DM blocked... How the fuck am I going to find this woman's personal profile?

Ah! That's it Akko, I'm great! The girls! I'll talk to them and see if they can help me with this! Maybe Constanze will know a way, she is so clever with this kind of thing...

I get my cell phone, go to the Witchsapp application, I keep running my finger through the contact bar, I soon notice that Constanze's contact, was without a profile picture, I assumed it was blocked, I imagine Constanze is not one to talk to me much... Luckily I could talk to one of her girlfriends. I was sure that they would talk to me, especially since they were both closer to me.

"Amanda"

This I will talk to Amanda, she is online as far as I can see, I really hope she will help me, I don't waste any time and immediately take care of sending her a message.

[Akko: Sup].

[Amanda: What’s the matter Akko?]

Akko: Sorry, did I get in the way of something? I need a little help].

[Amanda: Kind of obvious, you wouldn't end up calling me unless it was to ask for a favor. What did you get up to this time?]

[Akko: Gee, you think I call you just to ask for favors?]

[Amanda: Oh fuck, just say what you want].

[Akko: I won't waste time here, but I wanted some help more specifically from Constanze, can you find this woman's personal profile here].

I send the cropped photo of Laura to Amanda, I don't doubt at all that she was in shock, even more so since being a witch, she must have known that woman.

[Amanda: Laura McLaren? Seriously Akko? Hahahahaha! What's so interesting that you want to find the personal profile of a famous witch? I don't know if Cons will make it, but if she blocks you it's not my fault].

[Akko: Ah thank you so much for the strength Amanda].

[Amanda: Ah you're welcome, but tell me, what made you interested in wanting to find Laura McLaren's personal profile?]

[Akko: It's a secret Amanda, a very personal secret].

Amanda: ah so if that's the case I won't ask Cons to help you.

[Akko: Fuck you old man, it's very personal indeed].

[Amanda: Akko, I'm going to ask Cons to invade someone's personal life, it may be a famous person, but it's still a person, did you know that we can even go to jail for giving out someone's personal number? So don't give me that little secret, I promise I'll keep it to myself].

Seeing Amanda's message makes me a little afraid, but I think for a moment, I think I'll trust her this time, I hope she doesn't spread the word to anyone about it.

[Akko: Amanda, that woman is Diana's other mother].

[Amanda: Hahahaha! What? Another mother? What kind of story is this? Where did you get this nonsense from Akko, how ridiculous, do you still believe that fertility stone thing that Professor Chariot said when she had Sarah and Violet? Akko Professor Croix is trans, they used Croix's frozen sperm].

[Akko: This is serious Amanda! Oh fuck you, bitch! I thought I could trust someone with this].

I was bubbling over with anger and all Amanda would answer me was three little dots, but right away she tells me that she will help, no matter how ridiculous I thought this idea was, or what I ended up thinking, I would finally get help for my plan. All that remained was to wait.

After talking to Amanda I decide to start a Live Stream playing Super Mario World, it was a silly challenge to finish the game 100% without dying, but I always failed for one silly thing or another, it was nice to interact with the public, sometimes donations came out and that helped a lot with my project of becoming Shiny Akko, besides guaranteeing a livelihood in case things get tight, it was not because I was dating a noblewoman that I have to be dependent on her money, I do very well on my own.

POV Diana:

The time at work went by, it was a real bore I would say, nothing to do, just trying to find ways to get some extra money, but that Home Office service was spending me a lot, I knew that in the end it would only be enough to pay the salaries of the employees and maybe the food... My aunt doesn't even help, she only lives at the expense of others, thinking that she will still catch a rich man and get money... Her daughters are not much different... Maril already got the rich guy, but for how long? I don't doubt that they will divorce soon, I never really liked that guy...

After an exhausting day of work, it was already eight o'clock in the evening, dinner time arrives, I stop my work for the day as well, I am greeted by two knocks on the door, I soon allow this person to enter.

As usual it was Akko, holding up his cell phone and showing me the time and that it was 8:00 PM.

- I know, Akko, I know, it's time, I have to stop. All that's left is for you to pull me out of this chair. - I say as Akko comes over to me and sits on my lap, it doesn't take long and our lips soon meet, she was all needy and cute, I loved to see my Akko like this, so cute.

- Ah if you stay longer I'll do it anyway, I don't care, you have to pay attention to your little love, if it wasn't for this adult life shit I would want to spend the rest of my days dedicated only to be by your side giving you love - She said giving me affection, I admit I really wanted this, but unfortunately real life is not like that, we have our responsibilities.

- Who wouldn't want love? Obviously we have more important things, if I could stay all day just cuddling next to you, while we watch reruns of Shiny Chariot shows in our pillow fort eating caramel popcorn... - I say, causing Akko to get a gleam in her eye, to think that we actually did that the first few times she visited me, I admit it was pretty cool.

- Love I got nine very large donations today, three of fifty dollars, one of seventy pounds, four of one hundred pounds and one of 250 Euros, today yielded enough, failed well in the world of stars that anger! I even spent the whole Tubular without dying, without blue yoshi, but that damn plant hit right on the edge, I feel like throwing the control to the wall - she said, passing the frustrations of Super Mario, she is still playing this game without dying, it would be funny to get it first time, but I'm not one to lose the whole day playing.

- Oh good baby, soon, you can do it, I believe in you, how about we go to the bedroom, do a little something we haven't done in a long time huh? - I say blushing trying to give an extra mood to Akko.

- Are you going to make a pillow fort and caramelized popcorn? Are we going to watch some cartoons too? Can I choose? - she said, stalling the whole mood and my desire for something more intense. I still wonder how she is 19 and how we did it the other times...

- That's almost it... But it could be too, but let's have dinner before that, Anna must have prepared some delicacy for us - I say trying to make Akko forget that nonsense.

We went to dinner, Anna prepared some macaroni and cheese for us, it was as phenomenal as ever, I love her food... I really hope I can raise enough money to keep her working here, even if it means selling something or other. After dinner I went with Akko to the bedroom, still wanting something more, since I was very much in the mood.

The two of us went into the bathroom together and the next thing really happened, Akko was always very strange, I never knew when she was in the mood for it, but she clearly knew every time she was in the mood for it, after our bath was too hot, we both lay down on the bed and I went to watch some television, luckily there was something that interested me a lot, it was recommended a video about the Top 10 highlights of Laura Mclaren's career, as you can imagine Akko wouldn't want to watch it, so much so that I saw her soon get her cell phone.

Akko POV:

From the looks of it she is going to watch more boring broomstick racing videos, wait a minute.... Laura McLaren... I remember I mentioned her earlier today... Oh yeah! Holy lesbian Beatrix! I can't be that dumb! The fucking plan I made earlier! Did Amanda make it? Well, let's see.

I glance at Diana, she looks back at me and smiles, I return the smile, it looked like she wanted to say she wanted another round of what happened in the shower, I love to use my naivety to make her think I'm silly hehe, she'll never find out. I unlock the cell phone screen, and start to look through the messages.

As usual normal messages, from my mother, Diana... Oh I didn't even do what she asked today, I forgot to get her coffee... It was love... Chariot, Dad, Amanda! That's the one I wanted to know about... Hmmm let's see what she answered me.... It was three hours ago, apparently.

[Amanda: Hey bootleg Shiny Chariot, Constanze got Laura McLaren's personal number, she told me it wasn't that hard, but look, be careful with the messages, she might block you and this idiotic plan of yours go down the drain, I don't know if you know her well, but Laura McLaren was also known for being a little thick, so much so that I used to mirror her a little when I was younger].

[Amanda: +353 01 919 7281]

[Amanda: Remember that it is always good not to risk too much, if she blocks you there is no problem, just ask Cons to give you another chip, I will not charge for this one, since I imagine it is a surprise you have planned for Diana... Enjoy your adventure, then tell me if it worked out. Bye sis].

Fuck, I am even impressed, they got it so fast, if she is that fast to find the number of a famous person, then imagine to get mine, or imagine just to hack our things ... Holy shit, I'll never call Constanze a tampon again, after this I'll think twice even... Well... Come on Akko. The long awaited moment has arrived, Diana is too busy with her boring documentary...

I copy the number and put in Laura McLaren's contact name, as soon as I get this number I notice that there was no picture, but she really did have an account on the app, I take a deep breath, since that would be my moment.

[Akko: Hello]

I have never in my life felt so nervous about sending just a meager "Hello", I don't know why, but it seemed very intimidating, as if I had destroyed the entire Cavendish family mansion and had to explain Diana... I just hope everything works out.... I hope she answers me too, since I'm too far away.... Let's go!

[????? Hello? How the fuck did you get my number? If you are some crazy fan know that I'll give you 2 minutes before I block you, explain if well, surprise me].

Holy lesbian Beatrix, she comes right out with this bucket of cold water on me, I better answer soon if I don't want to throw all this progress in the trash, but what do I do? For the first time in my life I really have to think before I act... I'll explain to her in a quick way.

[Akko: Please, I really need your help Mrs. McLaren, my name is Atsuko Kagari, better known as Akko, I am Diana Cavendish's girlfriend, and I have a very big suspicion about you, I found this picture here and I'm thinking that... You are Diana's mother].

I send the message along with the picture of her next to Diana's mother and also the little cabbage cub, I hope it really works out, because I couldn't think of a better way to respond....

POV Laura:

What the fuck is this? Fuck! I... Fucking hell... For the fucking nine Lesbian Witches... How come a bomb like this comes today? Wait a minute girlfriend? My little girl is a lesbian just like her mother! That's so cute! But wait a minute... How did she find this out? How did she find this picture? By the nine lesbian witches... Does Diana know? Does she come here? Fuck! Now that the house has fallen for me... I've waited years for this moment, but I didn't imagine it would come so fast... I really wanted to keep this secret... Especially since Bernadette died... She would never be accepted in the Cavendish mansion, even with the curse broken and also Diana will never accept a mother who abandoned her for so many years? Better answer this girl soon.

[Laura: I don't know how the fuck you found this picture, I don't know who the fuck you are, I don't know what the fuck you want... But holy shit, you are very smart little girl, yeah... If you are really Diana's girlfriend then send me a picture].

[Akko: Ah you answered me, nice, okay I'll send you a picture, she's on my side now].

The brat takes a picture of her next to Diana, I almost cry when I see my daughter, the girl was big, she was no longer the little baby I used to hold in my arms... Wait a minute... Damn this girl is the same one that was flying with my Diana that day of the missile! I remember it well! It was on TV! Holy shit... She is very cute and cute even, she looks like she is clumsy and silly, I don't know why, I felt that about her.

[Laura: Okay, brat, I'll trust you not to block your number, I just want to know one thing... Are you treating my daughter well, because if not I'm going to come over there and pull your ears. Fuck you if you saved the country with the fucking Claiomh Solais].

[Akko: Hahahah! You are quite funny, but relax; Diana is very well with me, she is very happy by my side.... And I'm honored to see that you know about that].

[Laura: Is quite obvious, how come nobody was seeing two crazy girls on a broomstick flying towards a nuclear missile? Only a fucking person who lives in a fucking cave, which is not my fucking case, so yes, I fucking saw you, I also saw my daughter's psycho beating your fucking ass that day, I already suspected something, but I didn't know you were fucking girlfriends... I am happy for you guys... But answering your theory is... I am Diana's biological mother, just like Bernadette, you want to know how? Simple the fertility stone].

POV Akko:

I started to have a panic of joy, that woman sent right to the can, old cock, I've known this Laura for two minutes and I already consider her my best friend... I love this mother-in-law... Oh shit, I hope Diana hasn't noticed my sudden reaction.

I look to the side and notice that in fact Diana had practically fallen asleep, how cute, I think the day was very exhausting for my love... I cuddle her and, besides making her more comfortable in bed, I give her a little kiss on the forehead, just as I start talking to Laura again. I wanted to know more, who knows also my plan would work out.

[Akko: So the fertility stone is real?]

[Laura: Fucking sure, I know step by step how to do it, I have one now on my necklace, I always treasure it...]

Laura takes a picture and shows me the fertility stone, as well as her face... Holy lesbian Beatrix, she is not 49 years old, she is well preserved... Woah... That's why Diana is so beautiful! The eyes are Laura's... I always knew, Bernadette is the only Cavendish different, she had green eyes... While everyone here has blue eyes... Besides Diana's eyes are the same as hers... They are quite different from the eyes of the others.... I have to say that this Laura and Bernadette made the real divinity... If the fertility stone is real, then it really means that it is not a metaphor for artificial insemination.

[Akko: I don't know what to say Miss McLaren... You killed all my doubts at once, I knew that the fertility stone was real, if Diana is the fruit of the fertility stone and is the current leader of the family... That means that you made her here in the Cavendish family residence].

[Laura: Of course, where do you think I would make out with Bernadette? A girl like you is 19 years old? Forget it, I want to know why you called me, your motivations... And also how you got to this point].

This Laura has a coarse way of being... Like Amanda was mirrored in her, holy shit, she's like Amanda only ten times sharp tongued... She is literally all of Diana's crude side... It makes sense now, but a Diana who cusses ten thousand words a word, I've never seen someone so foul mouthed like that.

[Akko: Miss McLaren... I was this morning arguing with Diana when a wind takes a picture of Diana's mother, so I kind of followed, that picture led to her room, where I bumped into a closet, the picture fell on my face and I was in shock to see that picture, Bernadette, you and Diana together, plus a whole album where the two of you were together.... I also read your entire message that was behind the photo.... It was very cute... But what did Diana's aunt do that was so bad?]

POV Laura:

What a mess... So it was a photo... Bernadette obviously played with this girl, there is no other, but that was not her room, Bern did not keep these things in her room, the room where the tapestry was actually the first room of Diana ... I guess you made those aren't you my love... I have to stop thinking about these things... I'll go crazy, but I'm already crazy... Do I trust to explain to this brat what happened? I don't want to explain this by message... I think I will have to take this measure.

[Laura: Do you want to know what really happened? I'll only tell you if you come here in Ireland, it's something that's better told in person.... Before all this... Does Diana know? Does Daryl know anything?]

[Akko: I haven't told Diana yet, I intended to surprise the lady by revealing myself to you being her mother, plus it would show that the fertility stone was real all along... Daryl only saw me leave Bernadette's room, I managed to disguise it well... No one but a friend of mine knows that you are Diana's mother... And even that friend of mine discredited me, so kind of yes, that secret is safe].

Great! Things will be better this way... So I can really trust this girl... Probably her friend is the person who got my number, I don't doubt it at all, I hope no one expose my number; otherwise I'll be mad as fucking hell...

[Laura: Great, so come to the Mclaren family residence tomorrow morning, don't arrive before 10 o'clock in the morning, otherwise I'll make you swallow your magic, I won't miss my beauty sleep].

[Akko: Okay, I'll come, just send me the address, I'll find a way to go alone, after all I don't want any suspicions to come my way].

I send my address to the little brat, although I don't even need it, all I had to do was look it up on the Internet for the location of my house, since everyone knows where McLaren lives, but I am relieved that the girl is so naïve.

POV Akko:

After this conversation with Laura McLaren I felt relieved, I have to admit that she is very nice and a bit sharp tongued, I could see that a lot, I really hope that everything goes well... Now I'm going to play for a while, maybe sleep... I am one step away from making this surprise real...

I was playing Minecraft until about two o'clock in the morning, I practically lost track of time, playing in a world that I made with Diana, I was kind of mining a little and adventuring, when I least realized I was getting sleepy. So I decided to stop playing, turned off our video game and went to sleep, giving Diana a little kiss on the forehead as usual.

It was nine o'clock in the morning, I got up, this time Diana was beside me, she was getting changed, and I patted her on the butt just to let her know I was awake, hehe.

- A slap on the hotness! Yes baby thank you! - I say after slapping that hottie ass, Diana quickly turns around and puts her hand on her face, a bit flushed.

- Akko! - she said embarrassed.

Soon I stand up and give Diana a hug from behind as she finishes changing, when she finishes changing I get a little kiss on the forehead, after this little kiss I point to my mouth, signaling that she should kiss my lips, which Cavenboring does, after the kiss I go to the closet where I choose an outfit.

A white T-shirt, shorts, an orange overcoat, a scarf and finally a pair of boots, an outfit very similar to the one I wore the day I went to Luna Nova the first time.

- Where are you going so dressed up? - She said, already suspicious that I was going out, while I was thinking of a way to answer Diana, I had to be very spontaneous.

- Ah love I'm going... To Ireland... Yes! I'm going to Ireland to visit someone... - I say, still trying to think of how to wind Diana up, but she stared at me as if I were lying. - I sort of got called to go there, it's a sewing friend of mine from... Luna Nova! - I say this until she completes me.

- Akko, in all those years it doesn't have an Irish student in Luna Nova, if you're going to lie about leaving without me, at least lie properly... Let me see something... Are you going out with your friends to fool around... Or with him? - She said talking as if Andrew was a real criminal, I really don't understand how she has this jealousy of Andrew, he is fucking gay.

- That's it, I'm going out to prepare a surprise for you, but as you always ruin surprises, it's no fun... What a shit - I say inflating my cheeks, fucking Atsuko Kagari, every day you excel in acting, I really deserved an Oscar after this.

- Awwww, don't be like that honey, I know you try these surprises, but you don't have to react like that, try to act better... - She said, caressing me. That's all I needed, Diana believed in my acting, I kind of accidentally made her believe in something else, perfect.

She gives me another little kiss and we go to the kitchen where we go for breakfast, as usual it was pancakes, I love pancakes. We eat for a while until after breakfast I give Diana a kiss and tell her I was leaving, she waved at me and said goodbye.

I take my broom and start to float, saying the spell "Tia Freyre". With the broom floating, I put on the cell phone holder and activate the GPS, setting the destination to the McLaren family's residence, according to the address I entered.

"7h 13 min"

"470 km"

How absurd! This is all by car, but I'm on a broom, so I'd better change the route format here to broom. Yes, the distance has been greatly reduced! Now it's just flying towards Dublin in Ireland.

"350 km"

I think it will take a bit of broom time, I think maybe an hour.... That's the most I can fly going on a broomstick without being scared to death or using up all my magic, so let's go! From Edinburgh to Dublin! Farewell Scotland and hello Ireland!

Diana POV:

Akko left, but said in a very dirty way that she was going to Ireland, I really think she just went to Germany to Constanze's house, maybe to visit Amanda or else she went to visit Lotte in Finland, or maybe she went to Loperèc to visit Chariot and Croix, it's been a while since she visited the two twins... I don't know, I just hope Akko is okay, at least this time she will let me know before she leaves... I have taught this girl well.

Without Akko at least I could work in peace, take advantage of the fact that today is a Friday and I only work until five o'clock, so today is perfect... Well, let's go, today is going to be a day of rest, I really hope Akko doesn't get into any trouble. As soon as I go up to the office I take the opportunity to check my cell phone, to see if anyone has sent me any messages.

[Hannah: Hey Diana, Avery and I are going to Karaoke tonight, do you want to come? Just come down here in England, we'll have some fun, have a cold one, you know... Call Akko, she's funny, even if she doesn't drink, she's a comedian... I have called Barbara and Lotte to come, Amanda, Jasminka and Constanze will also come, even the weird Sucy will come, only you and Akko are missing].

That would be nice, but I'm not really up for it, I want to use this Friday for a more private surprise between me and Akko, you know? I want to do something we haven't done in years, that pillow fort gave me a great idea, it's very childish, but I'm sure my Akko will love it, and I don't know, I won't enjoy it that much. Even more I don't like that Avery girl, I never really did.

[Diana: Ah Hannah, thank you so much, but I don't think it's going to work out, friend, these days are very exhausting for me, also Akko left this morning, I don't know where she went, but it must be some surprise, so I think I'll stay here in Scotland].

[Hannah: Ah Diana, come on stop being such a pain, take advantage that Akko is not here and go out with us, I'll buy drinks for all of us including pizzas as well... So what do you think?].

[Diana: Hannah, you know I don't drink, I will refuse friend, my sincere apologies, but enjoy the day with you guys out there, it's not as if our presence is the most desired thing in the world].

[Hannah: Okay, Diana, okay, but tell me... Do you have the number of that handsome guy, your cousin? It would be interesting to call him here].

[Diana: Hannah, you're engaged to Avery and Andrew is gay, you're not going to get anything out of this, by the way, I don't have his number, you know I don't like that guy, Akko does.]

Hannah after that message just sent me an emote with her thumb sign up, I bet she was a bit mad that I didn't agree to go out with her and the girls, now great, they'll think I'm an asshole because I refused to go out, but I don't care, Hannah has been very annoying lately, she has been since the time she picked on Akko.

After answering Hannah the best way I could think of, I decided to start working for today, I knew I was going to have a full day filling more and more spreadsheets, just thinking about it makes my wrists hurt, but what can I do... This is the way I found to give a little more money to the Cavendish family.

POV Laura:

I was waking up in the morning, got out of bed and looked at myself in the mirror, I was a little bit disheveled, looking at the mirror, my long red hair needed to see a comb, so I tried to really comb it, I imagine I would have a long day, I make sure to check my messages and soon I notice an interesting one.

[Akko: I'm coming to Ireland; I'll be there in an hour].

Oh great, the little brat will be here in half an hour, it seems she didn't obey me much with what I said about not coming here before 10 o'clock in the morning, at least today I woke up a little earlier, but how stubborn this girl is, well come on, I can't go out in a robe with these tits waving around.

I take a T-shirt, pants, and my light blue slippers, as well as my necklace with the fertility stone. If Bernadette hadn't left this would be the stone that would make our second daughter... Hellene... Why... Why did you have to leave my love... I miss you so much... Bern...

I hugged nothing as always, thinking that one day that hug would lead to something... But it always came to nothing... All I wanted most was to be with Bernadette now... But let's keep our posture, after all that girl is going to come, I have to show her that I am strong...

I go downstairs and soon run into my sister Chelsea and my niece Holly, they were both in the kitchen eating waffles, I soon sit down at the table with them...

- Good morning girls! - I say until they both smile at me and answer.

- Good morning sis," Chelsea said.

- Good morning Aunt Laura," Holly said.

- So girls, today we are going to have a visitor - I say while they remain unresponsive - Atsuko Kagari, she is my daughter's girlfriend... Diana... I think you have seen her, that little brunette girl who was on the broom with my daughter with Bernadette." I say until they both stare at me dumbfounded, Holly holding a piece of waffle and Chelsea almost overflowing a cup of coffee, which I had to use magic to keep it from spilling all over the table.

- What is it? What the fuck is this Laura? You're kidding, aren't you? - Said Chelsea as if a truck had run over her. What an honor to finally have the courage to reveal yourself to Diana, I thought I would stay 20 years without doing anything.

- Yes Chelsea, but only Diana's girlfriend is coming.... - I say, answering her.

- Wait a minute, Auntie... You mean the brunette who was on the broom? She is amazing! She's a great friend of mine in Witcher! We always talk about the Shiny Chariot... She's awesome! - Said Holly, as usual that girl was a fan of the little Chariot... Lucky for us we went to her concerts during the beginning of her career, before all those crazy concerts where she was suspected of stealing magic.

- That's her... But yes Chelsea, it is very likely that this girl wants to push me to go to Diana, I don't doubt it at all... - I even say that Chelsea completes me.

- You can't spend your whole life sitting on the couch sucking your tits, Diana will fight with you anyway, your daughter was abandoned for 20 years... There's no use in waiting... What would Bernadette do? Besides, you can save the Cavendish family, I know they are in a bad way financially... That bitch Daryl will have to accept your help or not. Why didn't you have her arrested when she did that nasty shit to you? - She said again, going back to that subject.

- Don't fucking fill me up! I know that, I know I could have done all that.... But I just want to forget it and move on.... - I say trying to make Chelsea stop bringing this up, but she was kind of right, even after 20 years I never stopped thinking about Bernadette for a day... I still have the ring on my finger and always will, my one true love is Bernadette Cavendish...

POV Akko:

I was arriving in Dublin, with only 10 more minutes to go, I was already getting very tired of flying at 350 km/h in a straight line, the icy wind, the pain in my arms... How can a witch who races with brooms stand this, it is much worse to fly a broom when you are at high speed... When I was flying with Diana I always stayed behind and didn't feel all this... Actually this is the first time I have traveled this far alone on a broomstick...

The time went by and I could see the city from far away, after flying so much I was finally close, what a relief... It doesn't take long and soon I am getting closer and closer until I was in Dublin, I follow the GPS to where it was indicating the McLaren family's residence, little by little I get closer and I find myself in a more rural area of the city, also with a wall around it, I pass by it, since my interest was only in the house.

I am even perplexed, the woman was eight times world champion and practically considered a local heroine and lives in a big house, but nothing on the castle level where the Cavendish live, it was a big house with about four or five floors, it looked a lot like big houses in American movies, I soon approach the door and ring the bell, as soon as it rings I wait a little.

Who attends me is a redheaded girl and she was quite short, about Constanze's size I would say, she nods to me smiling, as if she knows me before, so I nod back.

- Hi Akko Kagari! I don't think you know me that way, but you must know me from Witches, I'm Holly Chariot Stan! - she said smiling at me... And wow, she is Holly, I recognize her now, from her profile picture which was a drawing you could tell she drew herself and pretty true to how she is in life I would say.

- Holly? Ah yes! Holly! Girl... Wow! You are amazing Holly, you are one of the few people we can talk about Shiny Chariot without anyone disturbing us, what a coincidence that you live right here. - I say answering her and right after giving her a hug, I wanted so much to hug that girl, I blush a little because I felt her breasts a little, which were not small at all under mine... Wait a second... If Holly is related to Laura McLaren that makes her related to Diana! What a fuck up! Now that I stopped to think about it.

After this hug we looked at each other for a while and soon Holly took me to the kitchen, where when I arrived I found two familiar faces, one was someone I had seen on television before and the other was Laura McLaren... I am in the middle of a family of famous people and I didn't even know it.

- I am Atsuko Kagari, but you can call me Akko - I say, trying to create a good impression.

- Ah hello Akko, I'm Chelsea and this is my sister Laura, I wonder why you came here, I was talking to my sister how she should stop hiding from her daughter and reveal herself, it's been twenty years and this woman is still hiding - Chelsea said.... I have heard that name before... Chelsea McLaren! She is an actress! She plays lesbian characters in all kinds of movies and TV shows! Now that I remembered! I love her performances, especially in Love yourself... How incredible the moments Diana and I were theorizing about how Layla would be with Hannah... Now I am facing Layla herself here. Diana would love to be here.

- Hey there, brat, you finally came. You could have come a little later, couldn't you? Well, let's leave it aside, I'm glad you came, but tell me what are your real intentions? - Laura said with her "gentle" way of being, now I am sure where did Diana's rudeness come from.

- Ah hello Mrs. McLaren... I came here to really talk to you, I want to know what happened to abandon my girlfriend. I am not here to judge you, I am sure you had a reason for that - I tell Laura, I just remembered a little bit about my reaction with Professor Ursula when she revealed all that to me? I really hope that this Laura McLaren has a strong motive, just by talking about Daryl having some involvement makes me more confident, I never liked that snake.

- I will explain everything, but first feel the will brat, do you want to eat some waffles? - Said Laura, as they were waffles I didn't refuse, I found it funny how that house had lower chairs, all of them were so low, I felt like a real pole to be there, I sit in one of the chairs and soon I start to eat.

POV Laura:

Holy shit the brat is here, she could take a little longer, she had to arrive right on time for lunch... Imagine just to explain to her everything that happened... Even more with Chelsea and Holly here... Out of nowhere this little Japanese girl comes and shows up... I am sure that she will make me go to the Cavendish family mansion... I'm sure... I swear that if I go there I don't know what I'm going to do... Whether I'll die of panic or not...

After we eat a little, it doesn't take long and soon my sister decides to open her fucking mouth... I knew that this idiot would want to make me confess, holy shit...

- So Laura, are you going to tell us? Or are you going to stay there without saying anything? - Said my sister as always pressuring me, damn it, here comes the bomb, but also I will not tell anyway, so I will try to show with the best details.

- I will! Come with me to the TV, I think it's something I have to show how everything happened more clearly, using a bit of the crystal balls too - I say, snorting a little already, I get up and go to the living room together with the girls, the day has come apparently? Here we go.

I arrive at the room together with the girls, I begin to use my magic on a crystal ball that soon was showing everything on a television, as I didn't want to show the whole story I decided to summarize it in a clearer way without wrapping it up too much and going straight to the point.

POV Narrator:

Laura begins to show flashbacks of her memories, starting with one from June 1990, just as they were returning from the McLaren family residence after they had both graduated. They first stop by the redhead's house where she passed the family's leadership position to her younger sister Chelsea.

After solving this problem they go to the Cavendish family residence and it was there where things started to get problematic, as soon as they arrive they are welcomed by Clarie Cavendish (Diana's grandmother, Bernadette and Daryl's mother), that is until the time the woman brings up the subject of marriage, telling Bernadette to marry the son of a family friend, this one called Paul Hanbridge.

Bernadette obviously refused, but she could no longer refuse using the age argument, which she had always used with her mother since she was 14 years old, this time the girl was 18 years old, because of even that Cavendish decided to hit the table and assume once and for all. She had been dating Laura McLaren since December 1987 and would never part with that girl for anything in the world.

This causes Clarie to end up slapping the girl and getting disgusted, she even tried to lock her in her room and kick Laura out, but since the authority in the Cavendish family was with Isabella (Diana's great-grandmother, Bernadette and Daryl's maternal grandmother), she did not allow Clarie to do this at all, but in a way Bernadette had to obey her mother's demands, but she did not want to anymore, she needed to do something.

A week later the opportunity arrives, it was the perfect day to perform the ritual to become head of the Cavendish family, Bernadette felt in the mood to perform this ritual, since it had been weeks since she had laid in bed with her girlfriend, it had been days since they could even kiss in peace in the ritual.

POV Laura:

I decide to pause that part, because I had to explain what was going to happen next, as I was not present at the ritual part I would kind of just show myself waiting while listening to some music.

- Why did you stop, sis? And what does something that happened eleven years before Diana was born have to do with her abandonment? - said my sister who still didn't even know that much about what happened.

- So, I don't know very clearly what happened, but according to what Bernadette told me, she was going normally until someone interrupted the ritual in the halls, she was alone and was shot down by Clarie and her grand aunts, Marie and Amelia, after she woke up, she was alone in the middle of all that room. Bern continued on and soon came across three trees, they seemed to be covering the three which was really true, at that time Bern didn't know it was them and just continued on normally, coming to get the title of head of the family - I say until Chelsea again raises her hand.

- Okay, but what does this have to do with what happened 11 years later? - Chelsea says, getting on my nerves, until I answer her.

- Fuck you Chelsea, pay attention to this shit, or I won't explain it to you - I say answering my wonderful sister, wonderful is my ass, fuck you... Laura focus, let's go back to showing what happened.

POV Narrator:

After the ritual Bernadette came back and was realized that she was head of the Cavendish family, but things were not that much better, from the moment they started to miss Clarie, Marie and Amelia, with that disappearance Bernadette called the police two days after she disappeared, in this case the magical police since normal people could end up getting hurt.

When the police arrived where the ritual was being performed, they noticed that there were three lifeless bodies, they were the bodies of Clarie, Maria and Amelia, as soon as Bernadette explained everything she was taken as the main suspect and was almost arrested, when she explained everything that had happened and in the crystal ball it appeared what really happened.

As soon as she returns home, Laura was waiting for her, as was Daryl. Cavendish was cleared and the whole case was closed as a murder, but because of this Daryl ended up placing all the blame for these deaths on Laura.

"It's your fault Laura McLaren! Because of you my mother and my aunts died! You had to show up in my sister's life! You ruined all the family's plans! You damn Irish bitch!"

POV Laura:

- Of course, this was pure falsehood on Daryl Cavendish's part, she had little empathy for her mother and aunts, after all, she herself had told them that Bernadette had gone to perform the ritual to become the leader of the family, she intentionally wanted to make her mother the leader of the family, because then she would manipulate Bernadette into forcing her to marry Paul Hanbridge... Daryl told me this before the fateful day. Clarie's death was not a feeling of daughter losing her mother, but for her it was more because it got in the way of her plans... That woman was never any good - I say until Chelsea answers me again.

- Laura McLaren! You are dumb! Look what you tell me, look what a piece of shit this woman is! Daryl should have been arrested! I will always say that. But instead the big tobacco girl there preferred to keep it quiet! - She said as always insisting on this subject... And fuck, even the other two were agreeing with her.

- That bitch could have killed my girlfriend, she had no qualms about using poison spells on me when I tried to save Diana's life... - Said the brat, causing me to go into shock.

- Wait a minute," I say, pausing the TV, "you mean you tried the ritual and... What part of respecting the traditions, didn't you hear? Anna didn't let me interfere even though I heard some screams and magic shots, and I also felt Bern's magic weakening... - I say until the little brat completes.

- I know, but I kept pushing in every possible way, until I saw Diana on the floor, I tried my best to fight Daryl and their daughters... But there are three of them... When I woke up I found Diana, we were in a laboratory, I tried to make her feel better and encourage her not to give up the ritual, since there was time, we went... Daryl and her clones almost died, but during the ritual, Diana kind of sacrificed being the leader of the family in exchange for being able to save the lives of the three - Akko said, which impressed me, but at the same time I hoped that Daryl had died in this attempt to stop the ritual.

- Daryl doesn't learn his lesson anyway, she lost her mother for that very reason and 27 years later she makes the same mistake, if it wasn't for Diana she could have died... If that's so then it means that Daryl kind of owes one to Diana's side - I say until Chelsea completes me.

- You see Laura, it is your time to move, it is your time to stand up for yourself, Daryl can't do anything, she had her life saved by your daughter, let her dare to touch a finger on you... – Said Chelsea completing me so I just shrug my shoulders and decide to go back to showing what happened, skipping many years on television, since they were the best years of my life next to Bernadette.

POV Narrator:

Laura jumped to the year 2001, more specifically on September 1, 2001, Diana was already 3 months old, she had hair a little bit evident since she was born with hair. On that day Laura is called by Daryl. Where she reveals all her intentions.

"Laura I never blamed you for the fact that killed my mother and made me lose my much loved mother, in fact I hated her, I even appreciate you coming along and making Bernadette's head to continue in this lesbian shit, but I was angry anyway, your person was not supposed to be so influential, Bernadette being a lesbian was fine.... What I didn't want is for her to date someone like you.... An imposing person, a moral person, because of your presence, Bernadette became stronger, she wasn't like that before, she was more submissive... But why am I saying this? I wish my mother had succeeded in becoming the leader, not because I wanted to see her alive? but because I wanted to see Bernadette forced to marry Paul. He is the same one who is my lover today.... Poor little Eleanora who thinks she is in a stable union.... But let's get back to the point... With you ruining my first plan where my mother could possibly trust me more, I had to change the course of things... That's when you made the fertility stone and I discovered a wonderful little book Written by a witch named Margaret Ford, this book was about the curse of the metal spheres.... Do you know it?"

At that moment Laura was just oblivious, but she recognized the name Margaret Ford because of her late great-grandmother's past and how she was a criminal witch accused of killing none other than Diana Cavendish III, the great-great-grandmother of the current Diana Cavendish.

"So, I'll be very direct to the point Laura McLaren, you and Bernadette are under this curse, I put on you yesterday, you have one week to leave this house.... If you don't want you and Bernadette to die... In a week the effect of the metal balls will start to work, if you are close to them... The metal balls will move faster and faster inside your stomach, piercing you both... Look, either you give in, or you and Bernadette die together in a romantic and beautiful way... Poor little Diana who would have to be alone in this cruel world.”

After telling all that Laura had connected the dots, she remembered something her great-grandmother told her years ago, that until then it was a curse with no cure, to the point that Daryl didn't even know the cure either, which causes her to have to change her plans.

Laura and Bernadette talk one last time, take a picture together with little Diana in the middle, using a Polaroid camera, McLaren takes a pen and starts to write a message to leave on the picture, it was not a goodbye, but a goodbye, she believed very much that she could find the cure.

POV Laura:

I started to cry... That moment always broke me... Remembering that I would come back... But that coming back never came.... I paused because I couldn't stand crying, I needed to be trimmed by my sister, niece and Akko, they started to do everything to make me feel as good as possible.

- Mrs. McLaren... It is not your fault... It is that bitch Diana's aunt, now I understand why she did all this... It was not your fault... You don't deserve to be like this... We are going back to the Cavendish family residence and I will make that snake swallow its teeth. Please Mrs. McLaren come to the Cavendish family residence, go back to your daughter, I am sure that there you will make that Cavenboring stay cool - Said the little brat trying to convince me ... But if of one thing, she is right, I think I have to stop staying in the comfort zone.

- You are more than right, brat! I'm going to the Cavendish family mansion! I'll face Daryl head on if I have to and let her hold me back! Because I'm coming back! If she tries anything, I've got what's coming to me. I have the cure for the curse of the metal spheres! I got it at least five years ago... If Bernadette were alive... - I say until Akko trims me again, the little brat is kind of nice, she knows how to motivate someone, now I know why Anna let her go.

- You don't have to worry about whether Diana will accept you or not, because you are my guest and Diana should accept, because I'm sure the Cavenboring will be very angry, since on her side you abandoned her - said the brat, quite rightly, that really was what made me postpone my return year after year.

- Okay Akko, I will go! Wait for me next week! I will come! I'll even come with my car with all my bags! And this time I'm not stalling, I'm really going back to the Cavendish family mansion! - I say with all motivation I'm really going.... No more waiting 20 years for this.

POV Akko:

When I heard Laura saying that I started to jump and celebrate and the other two celebrated together with me, the three of us even lifted the McLaren lady, holy shit she might have been short, but she was a little heavy too, after I let her down, I stayed there a little longer, until the sun was going down. When the sun sets I say goodbye to the McLaren, they are a nice family.

- Bye Laura McLaren, I hope to see you next week - I say hugging my mother-in-law.

- Bye brat, good luck dealing with my girl, let's keep it a surprise shall we? - said Mrs. McLaren.

- Bye Akko - said Mrs. McLaren's sister.

- Bye Akko, take good care of my cousin... Oh and do you have a cousin or sister who is as cute as you? Or does Diana have any single friends? - Holly said, wanting to get some hot chicks. Apparently McLaren is full of lesbian witches.

- Bye girls... Oh and Holly, I don't know, we can talk when I get home, a pretty girl like you can get a girl really fast - I say motivating Diana's cool cousin even more.

After talking to them I take my broom and fly back to Edinburgh, Diana must be waiting for me now...

POV Narrator:

The days went by quickly as Akko went from Dublin to Edinburgh, the Kagari managed to hide very well from Cavendish everything she was planning, no one from the Cavendish family residence suspected, which was great.

After this week passes without much happening, Friday arrives where Laura McLaren and her daughter Diana Cavendish were to meet again after almost 20 years, the long-awaited day has arrived.

It was a Friday morning, Laura had already left Dublin at five o'clock in the morning, possibly arriving at noon in Edinburgh, leaving with the Lotus Carlton 1990 that was one of her cars, this one in particular was McLaren's favorite car. Some of the other cars were bizarrely stored in the Cavendish family residence, so it would also be an opportunity for the redhead to review her old cars.

It was eight o'clock in the morning on a winter Friday, it was -2 degrees Celsius that day, but no snow, just a chilly morning as usual. Akko and Diana were waking up together in the bed of their bedroom.

POV Akko:

You don't have to wake me up together, Diana, just give me five more minutes... Oh yeah... Holy shit today is the day! Diana's mother will be here soon... I really hope Diana doesn't react with anger about finding out the truth.

- Good morning my love... Hmmmm... - I say grumbling as Diana kept moving.

- Good morning love, so... Are you going out today? - she said suspiciously.

- I will, but I have a surprise for you... - I say, already making Diana more suspicious.

- A surprise is, if it's like the surprise you gave me at the pillow fort last week I'd love it, but let's do it after work," she said, already hinting at something else.

- You will know what this is all about," I say in response to her.

I go to change with Diana, we put on matching clothes, she with a cabbage print t-shirt with "I'm her cabbage", and me with a white cabbage print t-shirt with "I have a cabbage girlfriend", I put on a pair of red plaid sweatpants, as Diana also put on a pair of blue plaid sweatpants, I almost go barefoot, but Cavenboring throws me a rabbit slipper that catches my head.

- You can't go out barefoot - said Cavenboring, already starting to get on my nerves.

- All right, all right, Bleh, you Cavenboring - I say holding out my tongue and taking my slippers and putting them on, while the cuddly cabbage put on her kitten slippers and put on a plaid jacket, while I went without a jacket.

- Where are you going without a coat? - Again the Cavenboring implies me, this time throwing an orange coat to me, and it wasn't even cold, inside the room it was even warm.

I put on my coat because I didn't want to see Cavenboring pick on me and as soon as we leave I notice why she gave me the coat, I already feel the icy wind in the halls of the mansion, which were not heated so as not to spend on heating, so only in the bedrooms I leave the heater on.

We went to breakfast, this time I was smiling too much, very excited about the surprise that that cow of Diana's aunt would come across, little does she know what is waiting for her... Since I went to Ireland I have been even more careful that this snake doesn't do anything to Diana and me, because she is not crazy to do anything.

- Why are you smiling so much girl, what's so funny that you would look at me and still find it funny? - said the snake in the creeping way it always used to say... Ew.

- You will know Daryl - I say, leaving a mystery in the air, Diana was also looking at me and was finding my overconfidence strange.

- Why are you so excited about what I'm about to see? May I know? Are you by any chance going to give me some lipstick as a present? Or are you going to get out of this house at once? My niece has been tarnishing the family's reputation for far too long by insisting on this lesbian thing, this is all just a phase. Either she marries James or she remains infertile and unable to have a lineage that will continue the family? Oops, I hesitated, I ended up talking too much,- said the crawling snake, which did not intimidate me a bit, in fact I continued to show confidence, while Diana hit the table and stood up angrily.

POV Diana:

- Atsuko Kagari! Stop picking fights with my aunt! And Aunt Daryl, you're already here with me! If you insist on pushing me around James, I swear I'll make a fuss, I love Akko! I don't care if it makes it impossible for me to be a mother! Love is stronger than any barrier - I say in answer to both of them, "I don't know why Akko invented to create intrigue out of the blue, I was so angry that right away I left the table, I no longer had any appetite.

- Diana! Don't go now! Sorry love! - Said Akko, which I just glanced back signaling that I had forgiven my love, she always understood my body language, so I left there to go towards my office.

Arriving at the office I kept thinking and pondering... What is the surprise that Akko wants to give me so badly? Is it something warmer? Or could it be that the something warm that she gave me last week was actually not the surprise and she has something bigger in store? I don't know... All I know is that this week she asked me several questions about my father... She even came up with an absurd theory about my mother being a lesbian... Not that I think it could be a lie... She clearly felt repulsed by my father... I am sure my mother married just to have me My father James was never a good person Besides saying about a hypothetical situation where the fertility stone is real and I am actually the daughter of two mothers.... I admit I really wish this was all real.... She even made a whole theory involving my aunt casting a curse to stop all this.... I have never seen Akko think this much....

Anyway, let's focus on what to do today... I'm going to have a very full day apparently.

POV Narrator:

The hours went by that morning, Akko was waiting playing some video games, so much so that she opened a live stream, this time playing some Yu Gi Oh Forbidden memories, playing in a challenge she called no Free Duel. Which was much more complicated since she couldn't lose since she was also competing in story mode the whole time.

Laura was arriving in Edinburgh, driving as fast as she could, sometimes slowing down in case there were speed cameras nearby, but that didn't stop her from going as fast as she could to reach the Cavendish family residence.

By the time 11:55 arrived, Laura was already at the door of the Cavendish mansion.

POV Laura:

I arrive at the gate of the Cavendish family residence, press the button of the gate control and soon I notice that they open for me, which already impressed me, it was the same moldy control from 20 years ago... Someone could break into this place if they stole my car. Luckily they didn't try, or they would swallow their teeth. I would go inside, but as soon as I start to drive forward I am interrupted by a security guard. I roll down my window and then lower my glasses.

- Frederich let me through, man! It's impressive that you've been working here since 1995, and please, don't say anything to anyone that I'm here, only to the house staff, I want to surprise them - I say until Frederich recognizes me and then releases me.

- I am sorry Miss Laura McLaren, we have not seen you for 20 years, what happened to your disappearance? I missed you around here, this mansion has a very heavy atmosphere since you and Mrs. Bernadette left this place? - Said Frederich, which I just agree and then climb the car window entering the mansion of the Cavendish family.

I go with my car along the path that led to the garage, surprisingly they still had my other beauties, very well kept and hidden in a cloth, as soon as my car parks I am greeted by Anna, possibly she has been warned of the arrival of a visitor.

- Hello Miss Laura McLaren, what brings you here? - Said Anna accompanied by other maids.

- Hi Anna, I am definitely back this time, I have a few things to take care of here... Have you taken good care of my Diana these years? - I say until Anna nodded her head in agreement.

- Of course, I'll take your things to the former mistress's room... May I? - Anna said.

- Please, Anna - I tell her until she and the maids walk past me, I hand them my car key, just as I take my cell phone.

POV Akko:

Lunchtime was approaching, I took the time to procrastinate a bit on Wticher and have fun with some memes, until I get a message from Mrs. McLaren... She arrived that early? So fast almost at lunch time?

[Laura: Hey brat, I'm home, come here we need to play our plan, I'm in the hallway past the garage, make sure you're not seen by Daryl].

[Akko: Okay Miss McLaren, I'll be right there]

I go quickly through the corridors and come across Miss McLaren, she was taking off her sunglasses and also the jacket that she tied around her waist, that almost made her tits fly, I don't know how that woman doesn't fall down with a thing that size.

- Well, follow my plan, we are going to make a shocking surprise for everyone, but before you make this surprise, take this - Said Laura handing me a bottle.

- What is it? - I say confused.

- This stuff makes you immune to the curse of the metal balls, Daryl can never do anything to you. – Said Laura

- And what is the plan? - I said.

Laura tells me in detail how she would follow the plan and how I should prepare the surprise, with a little bit of magic to make the scenario perfect, then after hearing everything, she pats me on the back and I go towards the dining room, where everyone was there having lunch and waiting for me, apparently.

- You were late love - Cavenboring said only because I had more important things to take care of.

POV Diana:

I wonder if Akko is late because of the "surprise" or if there is another context... What is my girl planning? Well, I don't know, maybe she is just late... I don't know, I only know that she is so cute eating with her full cheeks, my little cheeks, after that discussion earlier Daryl even kept quiet, how nice.

I was eating normally, until a piano song started playing... Oh no I can't believe Akko did that, she made a point of playing the theme song from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure... Why I deserve this woman... Hey smoke, why is there smoke? Shame on me...

Until the music reached its climax, the door opened, but the smoke was still very thick, and the moment the piano started to play again, I came across a person. It was a redhead with long straight hair, a little fat, arms crossed, she had very pale skin, freckles everywhere... Wait a minute, that face is familiar... Laura McLaren? What is she doing here... Eh... A... ghost behind her.... Mom? My mother is appearing behind her...

I was stunned at the time, I looked around and my aunt was in shock, she was a stone, I had never seen her like that... I was also trying to understand why my mother's spirit appeared.

- Hello - Laura said in a way that seemed threatening, but at the same time comforting.

- We got Miss McLaren they are in shock - Akko said... Akko? Who stood up and shake Laura's hand as if they were two friends... What is this thing? What do you mean? They have met before... Akko's surprise was to bring Laura McLaren here? That's why she told me she went to Ireland last week.

- La... Laura... What are you doing here? - Said my aunt who was scared, but soon she changes her expression to a more confident one, why is my aunt reacting like this? - In reality, you arrived late, I would say at least 15 years late, how can you simply arrive here and on top of that have the shamelessness to come here thinking that your Diana is going to come to your arms, that she is going to put her hand on your head? - My aunt kept saying... What? What do you mean "your Diana"? I was startled looking at my aunt - That's right Diana, this girl here is actually - Said Daryl until Laura ended up answering her.

- Nothing more, nothing less than Albert Einstein! - Said Laura as if she didn't care about that situation, while my aunt stared at her in disgust - Look Diana, I am sorry for everything that happened 20 years ago, but I will tell you... Your mother Bernadette was married to me, we used magic and then we had you.... That was long before she married James.... Your aunt may even try to stay on top, but what about Daryl? Why don't you talk about what you did to me? Why don't you confess that you controlled your sister by forcing her to marry James? Why don't you talk about when you left Bernadette to die? Why won't you talk about when you put the curse on the metal balls? - Did you say Laura? Is she my mother? What's going on? It can't be... I'm very confused...

- Wait! What are you saying? What do you mean Laura McLaren is my mother? What do you mean she used magic? What did my Aunt Daryl do? Mom... - I say, starting to get weepy... I had memories of my mother Bernadette and I started to run out of there, it was an impulse I never had in my life.

I ended up doing this trying to get away from that situation, many things were going through my head, Laura McLaren my mother? Curse of the iron balls? That James was not my father I already knew, he already did the DNA test... I just want to be alone... So I ran to the room where my mother was staying, I sat down on the floor and cried, it was the only thing I could think of... Traumatic childhood memories came back... Those days when my mother died... If I could go back in time and heal her.... I would give her all my magic...

POV Laura:

My apologies Diana... I wanted to make a triumphant entrance... But I couldn't, I don't think I should pull this argument the poor thing must be in need of someone to make her feel better.

- Do you see what you have done? You think this is going to be okay? I won't let you come back so easily - said my slutty sister-in-law, while I just walked straight ahead, until the brat tapped me on the shoulder as I was approaching the door.

- Where are you going Mrs. McLaren? Are you going to let Daryl say these things about you? I know the real story, I know what happened, she has to shut up - said the brat, until I took her hand off my shoulder.

- Fuck what is more important is the love and care that I must give my daughter, Daryl of little do I care, I'm shitting and walking to that snake - I say leaving that room while Akko was even quiet to hear me, Daryl kept talking and talking, but only ignored, the brat is very brave to stay in this house with that cow.

POV Diana:

Alone in the room, crying, until I feel something touching my shoulder, I thought it was just Akko, so I just ignored it again, until I hear a voice... I had heard it before... I raise my head and am faced with the ghost of my mother.

- Diana... I understand your pain... It seems that your mother Laura has finally decided to go back to where she should be... Taking care of her daughter... Please... Don't be angry with her. Accept it, Laura. This is my last wish as a mother. Laura has given me so much love and care all these years - Said my mother's spirit.

- Why should I accept her? Laura abandoned her just as I did. She didn't even interfere when you married James - I say until she answers me.

- Your mother Laura had a reason; she would never abandon us... This reason she will explain to you, I'm sure... You have no idea how she waited so many years for this moment. Laura tried to find a cure for what caused her to leave us. But it was too late... Please Diana... If you can't do it for yourself... Do it for your dead mother...- said my mother's spirit, which made me a little touched... This time I really think I should forget about this armagure... I wonder if all that theory Akko told me is true.

I just nod my head and smile at the spirit that starts to disappear, when it disappears completely I see that the door was being opened, as I see the door opening I am faced with my mother Laura.

- Diana - said my mother Laura.

I get up and go running to hug my mother Laura, I was still crying, only this time the crying of sadness was changed to one of comfort, I was kneeling and hugging her, since my mother was a little short, I rest my head on her chest and soon I am caressed.

- I have waited years for this moment, my little Diana," she said as she kept giving me affection, while wiping my tears.

- You called me Mom? - She said, all excited, until I looked at my mother's face and she was crying.

- What else would I be yours? - I say to my mother who starts to hug me tighter to the point of making me sink my face inside her huge breasts... But soon after she lets the hug go lighter.

- Now things will be all right Diana... Your mother Laura is here... I will never leave her... I'll never leave you again I will make up for all the 20 years I spent away - She said until I look at her and start wiping my mother's tears.

- Just in these few seconds the lady is already making up for it... My mother Laura - I say this while Akko was watching everything, she was bursting into tears, my mother immediately looks at her and starts laughing.

- Come here little brat, you're family too - said my mother calling for Akko, who joined in a family hug... Brat? I like that nickname, I guess I'll have to get used to the idea that I have two mothers? It seems that Akko was right all along about the fertility stone... Who knew it would be under my nose all the time.

See you, lesbian witches, someday, somewhere!

[angstymdzsthoughts]

This is not quite as sad as it should, I think, but let's share just in case..

---

JFM loved his wife. He really did. And YZY knew it and reciprocated. She was still the fierce Violent Spider and he was still the calm and patient, quite docile, Sect Leader Jiang. They lived well and happy, as happy as they could be.

JFM had a sworn brother, his right hand and servant WCZ. This man had a wife he loved as well. They both were JFM's best friends. But everything was well. YZY wasn't jealous at all because she knew her husband loved her and to think that WCZ and CSSR could love anyone but each other was ridiculous. Same as JFM loving anyone but YZY. So everything was well. They were important for her husband and she could appreciate both friends's personalities. Calm, kind servant WCZ, loud, warm rough cultivator CSSR. Everything was fine.

When WWX was born, he was born as a servant. When he was raised, he was raised to serve, just as his father had been. He was a good kid, he was a good servant. JFM was kind enough and loved WCZ enough to never discourage his children's friendship with WWX. It was ok, he himself had took his own personal servant as his sworn brother and everything was fine. He was hoping that WWX would become the same for JC, after all. If there was someone he would trust his son with was the son of his best friend.

WWX had a loving family. His mother was loud and obnoxious and his father was proper and kind. He was loved, he truly was. And he loved them in kind.

CSSR was a free soul, tho. She had accepted to stay on LP for the born of her son but WWX was already old enough to walk on his own so she decided it was time for her to go. To travel. To meet the world and night-hunt around and help ppl.

WCZ knew this day would come. He knew his wife, he knew she couldn't stay on a single place for too long. She would feel caged otherwise and a free bird like her should never had their wings cut. She was made for the open skies.

But WZC had responsibilities, he was a Sect Leader's right hand, second in command. He couldn't just leave like that. So they made a deal, because they loved each other very much, so she could go explore the world for a few months and then come back to his husband and son's side, at least for a bit. Just so she could see WWX grow. Just so she could reunite with his husband and hug him and made him laugh. So everything was fine.

Tiny itty WWX would wait on the docks besides his father the day his mother was set to arrive, already old enough to try to be still and proper, as his servant status demanded, but still too young to hardly manage it, almost vibrating out of his skin at the mere thought he was gonna see his mother again that day, fidgeting anstily and giggling from time to time, always breaking property and running to the boat and onto his mother's strong embrace as soon as she was on sight. Everything was fine.

JC sometimes made him company in the waiting, specially when they got a bit older and JC could leave the main house more freely. He would feel a bit jealous at how carefree WWX can be and how loving and affectionate his mother was. He wanted his own parents to be as doting and caring as them, but a noble's property and status stop them to show excessive affection as much as they indeed loved him. But it was fine, CSSR was amazing and affectionate enough for both of them. She was funny and strong and amazing and would tell silly jokes she would loudly laugh at even if some weren't funny at all, and she could kill a bunch of monsters all on her own and she would sneak snacks and bring them trinkets and tokens and stories of her adventures, so it's ok. Some ppl are just that way. JC is lucky to have all he has in life.

So WWX is still young and he's waiting on the docks because his mother's last letter said she was arriving home as soon as her night-hunt was over which meant just two to three days and it was time now! And so he waited. All day long, until his father went to fetch him telling him that maybe tomorrow was the day and he had duties now. WWX waited the next day as well, duties be damned. But his mother didn't arrive. "Maybe she got delayed again," his father tells him. "She will probably arrive before her letter telling us as such as it always happens," because it's true, it's not the first time it happens. Everything is fine.

The next day she doesn't arrive. Nor the next one. Nor the next after that. Now even WCZ is worried. JFM approves of a search party leaded by his own right man. He would even go himself if his Sect Leader duties didn't call on him so near an important conference.

"I'll come back soon" WCZ tells his son. "With your mother in tow. I promise." WWX believes him. He has no reason to not do so anyway.

And so he waits. Days and nights. Waiting for her parents's boat to show itself on the horizon, to reach the dock and hug him, and kiss him, and almost crush his ribs with how strong CSSR's hugs are.

And so he waits and waits and waits until he can't wait anymore because he has "duties" and training and studies, like all of that mattered more than his parents arriving to him. So, as easily as breathing air, nothing was ok and anything was fine.

Part of me wants WCZ to be back with only a red ribbon, a bit torn, still bloody, to gift his son as the last token he would ever have of her mother. And another part of me just wants WWX to wait for parents that will never come back to him.

What I know for sure is that JC stopped wishing his parents were like WWX's.

Too bad Lotus Pier burned.

[thegizka]

Our Time

Writer’s Month 2020 Day 4:  Long Distance Relationship

Byleth believes in the future that she and Claude are working towards, but serious news from over the border could mean they have less time to create that future than they thought.

Read it on Ao3.

Note: I do not own any aspect of Fire Emblem: Three Houses.

Byleth had only been to Almyra twice before, both times travelling only an hour over the border late at night.  She couldn’t venture very far because she wasn’t welcome, and peace wasn’t yet secure enough for an extended trip out of Fodlan.  It was much easier for a roaming prince to cross the border when he would be welcomed by many as a friend.  He never stayed long enough to socialize, though.  If word got back to Almyra, he would lose what hard-earned trust from his people that he had.

“The timing is terrible,” Lorenz said when she asked him to hold down the fort for a few days.  “Claude never did cultivate that noble quality of considering others’ schedules.”

“It’s not like he asked to nearly die on the battlefield,” Hilda snapped.  Byleth knew she was worried because she hadn’t complained about the extra work she’d have to do in her leader’s absence.  She had also nursed her brother through his more serious battle wounds.  She knew how bad it could be.

“Do you think the report is accurate?” Marianne asked.  “Could he really be dying?”

“That’s what I’m going to find out,” Byleth said.

“May the Goddess protect him,” she prayed.

Lorenz, Hilda, and Marianne were the only ones she told before leaving.  The fewer people who knew about her absence, the less likely it was that one of the disgruntled lords would try to seize power.  She also doubted her opposition would look kindly on her rushing to the aid of an enemy prince.  Neither Fodlan nor Almyra was favorably disposed to their union.

Byleth didn’t usually mind waiting, and experience had taught her that peace and unity took time and effort.  She had time, and Claude had a plan.  Eventually they would have the future that they both wanted.  She only wished this phase of the plan wouldn’t keep them so far apart.

She had known there would be a battle.  The Gonerils had informants just over the border, and Hilda was quick to share anything they heard about Claude.  A band of dissenters had been marauding the coastline, sometimes dangerously close to Fodlan’s border.  The prince had summoned his warriors to confront them.  It sounded routine, well within his tactical capabilities.  No one expected the scoundrels to have set a trap or Claude to be seriously wounded, possibly fatally.  Suddenly they didn’t have as much time to chase their future as they’d thought.

Byleth covered the distance in a day and a half.  She didn’t grant herself the luxury of admiring the scenery like Ignatz would have.  Sometimes in the quiet moments they shared, away from the politics that kept them apart, she’d ask Claude to describe a place they would someday visit together.  She loved watching him as he used words to conjure images of places held in his memory.  She could see his love for his country in his eyes, and he was extremely secretive and protective of the things he loved.  That he trusted her with his memories meant a lot to her.  She was looking forward to visiting those places and making more memories with him.

Her destination was not one of those places.  From the exterior, it looked like a farmhouse with an accompanying barn.  The buildings were tucked into the shadow of a mountain.  Byleth knew the facade disguised an intricate network of tunnels and rooms that could be extensively defended should the need arise.  No one but Almyran royalty and their closest guards knew about it..

“If anything happens and Fodlan is no longer safe for you, go there,” he’d said.  “I’ll meet you there and we can come up with a plan to keep you safe.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Byleth reassured him.

“But if it does,” Claude insisted, “promise me you’ll go there.”

She wasn’t sure what had spooked him that day.  Perhaps the unrest in Almyra was growing, or he had heard the rumors that a band of Those Who Slither In The Dark had escaped and were plotting against her.  He usually didn’t let such things get to him, but everyone has his limits.

“I will,” she promised, and relief washed over his face.

“Thank you.”  He kissed her hand affectionately.

“And if you’re in serious danger, I’ll be able to find you there, right?” she asked.

“If I’m in serious danger, you shouldn’t come looking for me.”

“But I will.”  She took his face gently in her hands.  “I would scour every inch of this earth for you if I could be by your side for a single moment.  I will always come back to you.”

His eyes said a thousand true things, many of which she felt more than understood.  It was strange to feel so much when for most of her life she had felt very little.  Claude made her feel the most, and the experience was as wildly beautiful as he was.  She wished she could feel this way with him forever.

“If it’s serious, I will go to the farm,” he conceded.  “Just don’t come to me unless it’s an emergency.  Wait for me to send word.  I don’t want you falling into a trap.”

“I’ll be careful.”

He kissed her to seal the promise, then pulled her into a hug.  They held each other for a while, drinking in each other’s presence.  Byleth never realized how starved she was of him until they were together like this, at peace and in union.

“I wish I could bring you back with me,” he murmured, lips brushing her neck.

“I wish I could make you stay,” she sighed.

That had been two months ago.  Now she crouched in the brush a safe distance from the little farm.  She hadn’t waited for him to send word because she wasn’t sure he would.  If he thought it would be safer for her to stay away, he wouldn’t ask her to come, even though she knew he ached for her just as strongly as she did for him.  He had lived his life too carefully to start letting his emotions override his reason now.

The guards at the farm were good.  Disguised as farmers, they made frequent trips between the buildings under the guise of agricultural chores.  Byleth had spent enough time around warriors, though, to notice the telltale signs in their movement.  She knew they were keeping careful watch while they appeared to work.  That they were so active confirmed her suspicion that Claude had been brought here after the battle.  All she had to do was get inside and find him.

She waited until dusk.  It was terrible knowing he was so close and not being able to rush to his side.  Their relationship remained a secret to all but a handful of their most trusted friends, and it had to remain that way.  Claude knew firsthand how a mixed marriage could polarize people, and even though their love was enough to endure the backlash, their future union had to unite their lands as well.

Byleth chose the barn as her point of entry, slipping inside as the sunset stretched long shadows over the land.  The guards seemed less attentive to this building, and it was evident why as soon as she entered.  The smell of wyvern cut through the dusty scent of hay and timber.  She felt nearly a dozen pairs of reptilian eyes bore into her as her vision adjusted to the low light.  Wyvern were fiercely loyal and sometimes dangerously territorial.  Walking into  one’s den was a sure way to get into trouble.

Despite this, she moved forward with minimal trepidation.  She had fought beside most of these creatures when Claude had brought his Wyvern Corps to Fodlan to stop Edelgard.  They recognized her as an ally, and several rumbled a low greeting as she passed, patting snouts and scratching behind their frills to reassure them.  Byleth noticed fresh scars and wounds plastered with pungent salves, signs of the battles they’d fought and their most recent skirmish.  It must have been a tough fight because no beast remained unscathed.  That made her worry.  There could be more truth to the rumors than she had believed.

With growing concern, she made her way to the back of the barn.  The Wyvern Corps’ presence was irrefutable proof that Claude was here.  The warriors were as fiercely loyals as the beasts they rode and would stay by their prince’s side no matter what.  But she had noticed there was a wyvern missing, and it made her worry a great deal.

She almost missed the large stall at the back of the barn because she was so intent on finding a way further into the compound.  The rustle of hay and a chirp brought her to a stop.  Appearing like a ghost in the thin light, Claude’s wyvern lay on a bed of hay, eyes looking at her intently.  He chirped again, and she went to him.

“That’s his name for you,” Claude had said when she’d first heard those syllables back at Garreg Mach.  They had just finished a strategy meeting for their planned assault on Enbarr, and as was happening frequently these days, she had sought him out to hear his unfiltered opinions and take comfort in his presence.

“My name?” she asked, gently scratching the wyvern behind his frill.

“He only makes that sound for you.”  Claude grinned.  “He must like you a lot.  It’s much cuter than his name for me.”

“And what does your name sound like?”

He made a series of clicks and growls that sounded ridiculous coming from a human throat.  She laughed, and Claude grinned brightly.

“It’s rare to hear you laugh, my friend,” he observed.  “It’s a nice sound.”

A warm emotion stirred within her when she met his eyes, something new and exciting that she wouldn’t mind feeling again.  She turned her gaze away, choosing to focus on the wyvern instead so she could sort through this new sensation.  He simply chuckled behind her and let the comfortable silence draw about them.

“Sh,” she cooed as the beast chirped the now-familiar sequence again.  She could see why he was separated from the rest of the wyverns.  His chest was a criss-cross of scratches, one wing was bound in a splint, and a large gash traced nearly the entire length of his side.  It had been treated and bandaged, but the cloth was damp from leaking fluids.

“You’re looking a little rough,” she murmured, rubbing his chin reassuringly.  He bumped her with his nose. “I bet the enemy looks even worse, huh?”  She scratched the patch of his neck that she knew he liked and was rewarded with a rumbling purr.

Byleth was torn.  She wanted to continue on and find Claude, but his wyvern also needed care.  Could she wait a bit longer?

“I’ll be right back,” she promised, patting his cheek before stepping out of the stall.  With the state of his wounds, the healers ought to keep their medical supplies nearby for emergency treatment.  She ducked into a nearby storage room.  It was mostly empty save for a few cratesr.  She popped one open to find bottles and jars of ointment, pungent-smelling like the salves slathered on the other wyverns’ wounds.  The labels were in the flowing, angular script of Almyran.  She could read just enough to understand the general application of each.  Byleth grabbed a few that promised to disinfect and encourage fast healing.  She dug into another crate to find large bandages.

The wyvern chirped her name again when she returned.  She rubbed his neck reassuringly before going to his side.

“Easy boy,” she soothed as she peeled back the old dressing.  He rumbled uncomfortably as the deep gash met the cool air of the barn.  It was oozing pus, but the bleeding had stopped.  She gently cleaned it, murmuring reassuringly as she did.  She took one of the disinfectants and carefully spread it around the gash.

Stepping back, she took a deep breath.  Reaching within her to the part of her that had been touched by the Goddess, she summoned the energy and poured it forth.  The magic wove itself into nosferatu and pulled the exposed tissue together.  The wound was large, and she was tired from the journey.  She also selfishly wanted to conserve some magic in case Claude needed it.  The Almyran people didn’t have many magical healers and were suspicious of Fodlan’s magical traditions, so most wounds were left to heal naturally.  She accelerated the healing process until the gash was past the potential of danger before releasing the magic and letting the Goddess’s powers fall dormant within her.  She then reached into her own pack and pulled out a jar of ointment.  The wyvern turned and clicked at her as she started applying it to what was left of the wound.

“Do you like that?” she asked.  “Marianne has more experience with warmblooded animals, but she thought this might help if you were hurt.  She’s always thinking of our non-human allies.”

Byleth finished dressing the wound with clean bandages before tending to the wing.  She knit the bone back together but kept the splint in place to discourage activity until the surrounding muscle finished healing.

“There,” she sighed, rubbing the wyvern’s snout.  “That’s about all I can do for you right now.  I hope it helps.”

He exhaled against her stomach, making her chuckle while she scratched behind his frill.

“Well this is a surprise.”

If Byleth had had a heart, it would have jumped in momentary panic.  She turned around.  Claude leaned in the entrance, eyes wide with surprise.  Bandages covered his torso, and he leaned on one leg as though avoiding putting weight on the other.  But he was there, and he was alive.

She walked the short distance to him slowly.  His eyes were tired but vibrant as they studied her face.  His gaze softened when she reached him and gently wrapped him in a hug.

“It really is you,” he murmured.  “I thought I was dreaming for a moment.”

“I’m here,” she promised in a whisper.

“Why?”  He pulled back so he could look at her.  He gently brushed some hair from her face.  “Don’t get me wrong, I am unbelievably happy to see you, but why are you here?”

“I heard about the battle.  I was worried.”

He blinked in surprise.

“I sent word that I was fine.  Did it not reach you?”

“I left right away.  I wasn’t sure there was time to wait.”

“I know you worry, but you need to be careful, my love.”

“Sh,” she hushed, cradling his face gently.  “I am here now.  Let’s leave it at that.”

“Okay.”  He gently rested his forehead against hers.  “Okay.”

They stood in silence together practicing the art of being.  Once again, she felt how heavily his absence had weighed on her.  She never felt so whole as when she was with him.

The wyvern behind them clicked and growled Claude’s name.  He chuckled.

“Someone’s feeling a little left out.”

Byleth let him pull away and limp over to the creature.  He spoke to it in Almyran, murmuring in beautiful, lilting speech that she only partially understood.  She loved the cadence of his voice and watching him interact with his wyvern.  He was somehow less guarded, perhaps because he had grown up with this beast.  It was one of his closest friends, and it was nearly impossible for him to hide his affection.

“You’re bleeding,” she said, noticing the bandage along his side turning crimson.

“I’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

“Should you even be out of bed?”

“Probably not.”

“Claude!”

“I’m fine,” he assured her, though he let her help him into a sitting position with his back resting against his wyvern’s side.  “I just thought this guy could use some company.”

The wyvern nosed his chest in concern.  Claude patted his nose to calm him.

“What happened?” Byleth asked as she carefully peeled back the soiled bandages.

“The luck of battle,” he grunted.  “It was not with me.  Some archers on the other side got in a few lucky shots instead.”

She counted three puncture wounds and half a dozen bruises.  It was amazing that he’d been able to stand, let alone walk to the barn.  He must be under immense pain.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he promised, though it was hard to believe him.

Byleth was already manifesting the Goddess within her and weaving magic into nosferatu.  She poured her intention into her work, tenderly treating his wounds.  Muscle knit together and bruises faded.  She knew the energy was taking a physical toll, but she was determined to ease his pain as much as she could.  That was largely why she was here, after all.

“Don’t overdo it,” Claude cautioned, gently grabbing her wrist.  “I can afford to heal on my own a bit.”

She wanted to continue until the wounds had disappeared, but the reassurance in his eyes and her fatigue convinced her to let it be.  The magic faded, leaving the wounds red and tender but no longer bleeding.  She took a moment to catch her breath before reaching for some ointment and bandages.

He took her hands once she had dressed his wounds and kissed them tenderly.

“Thank you,” he murmured against her palms.  The hair of his beard tickled her fingertips.

“I haven’t even looked at your leg yet,” she chuckled, trying to pull her hands back.

“Leave it,” he said.  “It’s just a sprain, and you’re already exhausted.  You must have traveled nonstop to get here.  Rest while we still have some time together.”

He was right.  She’d have to leave in an hour to avoid detection and return to Fodlan.  Their stolen moments were never long enough.  Byleth settled into the hay and nestled against Claude’s uninjured side.  He took her hand and held it against his chest, kissing the crown of her head before resting his cheek against it.  She listened to the steady, reassuring beating of his heart.  She could have fallen asleep there wrapped warmly in his love, but she didn’t want to waste their precious seconds together.

“Claude?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Tell me something.”

“What?”

“Anything.  I just want to hear your voice.”

He chuckled, and she felt it vibrate in his chest.

“Alright then.  In two days, it will be the twentieth day of the Great Tree Moon.”

“Yes,” she grinned, thinking he was being silly and listing mundane facts.

“On that day nine years ago, Dimitri, Edelgard, and I got separated from our classmates during some evening training exercises and were set upon by bandits.”

“I thought you snuck away from the others.”

“There was never enough evidence to prove that,” he chuckled.  “Regardless of how we got there, we were almost surely going to be captured or killed until a band of mercenaries led by the famed Captain Jeralt and the Ashen Demon routed the thugs and saved the future of Fodlan.”

“That was nine years ago?” she asked.  It felt more like three or four.  She’d lost five years to a coma.  Sometimes she wondered what might have been different if she had been awake to guide her students through the turmoil.

“It was.  Nine long years of fighting and bloodshed to create the future we believe in, and we still have a ways to go.  But on the twentieth day of the Great Tree Moon next year, I’m going to marry you.”

Byleth sat up quickly to see whether he was joking.  His eyes were earnest and soft, and they filled her with the conviction that he was making her a promise.

“Whether or not we’ve brought peace to Almyra and Fodlan, although I expect we will by then, we should get married.  I don’t care if it’s a tiny ceremony at Raphael’s inn with only the Golden Deer around to witness it.  The only future I want is one where we’re together.  What do you say?”

She felt emotions stir within her that were too big to name.  They spread through her body and swelled in her throat until she wasn’t sure she could speak.  But what could she say?  Claude had already spoken her desires for her.

“You’re crying.”  His eyes went wide in surprise, and a touch of fear passed through them.  Byleth reached up to her cheeks and felt their dampness.  She laughed in surprise.

“I’ve never been this happy before.”

Claude chuckled with relief as he wiped the tears away.

“You had me worried for a moment.”  He held her face, thumbs rubbing her cheeks gently as he grinned.  “I take it this scheme sounds good to you?”

“Yes,” she beamed.  “I think it’s a winning strategy.”

His grin grew wider as he kissed her.  She kissed him back, sealing their new promise.  Somehow the future they wanted seemed much closer than it had this morning.  One year.  They just had to get through one more year.  Then they’d have all the time in the world together.

[nymphadoratonks]

free market in the wizarding world

“You’re a wizard, Harry,” Hagrid said. “And you’re coming to Hogwarts.”

“What’s Hogwarts?” Harry asked.

“It’s wizard school.”

“It’s not a public school, is it?”

“No, it’s privately run.”

“Good. Then I accept. Children are not the property of the state; everyone who wishes to do so has the right to offer educational goods or services at a fair market rate. Let us leave at once.”

“Malfoy bought the whole team brand-new Nimbus Cleansweeps!” Ron said, like a poor person. “That’s not fair!”

“Everything that is possible is fair,” Harry reminded him gently. “If he is able to purchase better equipment, that is his right as an individual. How is Draco’s superior purchasing ability qualitatively different from my superior Snitch-catching ability?”

“I guess it isn’t,” Ron said crossly.

Harry laughed, cool and remote, like if a mountain were to laugh. “Someday you’ll understand, Ron.”

Professor Snape stood at the front of the room, his beak-like nose protruding over the silent classroom. “There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don’t expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few who possess, the predisposition…I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death.”

Harry’s hand shot up.

“What is it, Potter?” Snape asked, irritated.

“What’s the value of these potions on the open market?”

“What?”

“Why are you teaching children how to make these valuable products for ourselves at a schoolteacher’s salary instead of creating products to meet modern demand?”

“You impertinent boy–“

“Conversely, what’s to stop me from selling these potions myself after you teach us how to master them?”

“I–“

“This is really more of a question for the Economics of Potion-Making, I guess. What time are econ lessons here?”

“We have no economics lessons in this school, you ridiculous boy.”

Harry Potter stood up bravely. “We do now. Come with me if you want to learn about market forces!”

The students poured into the hallway after him. They had a leader at last. Dumbledore's army of economic analysts had been founded.

Harry and Ron stood before the Mirror of Erised. “My God,” Ron said. “Harry, it’s your dead parents.”

Harry’s eyes flicked momentarily over to the mirror. “So it is. This information is neither useful nor productive. Let us leave at once, to assist Hagrid in his noble enterprise of raising as many dragon eggs as he sees fit, in spite of our country’s unjust dragon-trading restrictions.”

“But it’s your parents, Harry,” Ron said. Ron never really got it.

Harry sighed. “The fundamental standard for all relationships is the trader principle, Ron.”

“I don’t understand,” Ron said.

“Of course you don’t,” said Harry affectionately. “This principle holds that we should interact with people on the basis of the values we can trade with them – values of all sorts, including common interests in art, sports or music, similar philosophical outlooks, political beliefs, sense of life, and more. Dead people have no value according to the trader principle.”

“But they gave birth to y–“

“I made myself, Ron,” Harry said firmly.

“Give me your wand, boy,” Voldemort hissed.

“I cannot do that. This wand represents my wealth, which is itself a tangible result of my achievements. Wealth is the product of man’s capacity to think,” Harry said bravely.

Voldemort gasped.

“There is a level of cowardice lower than that of the conformist: the fashionable non-conformist.”

Voldemort began to melt. Harry lit a cigarette, because he was the master of fire.

“The smallest minority on earth is the individual. Those who deny individual rights cannot claim to be defenders of minorities. The minimum wage is a tax on the successful. The market will naturally dictate the minimum wage without the government stepping in to determine arbitrary limits.”

Voldemort howled.

“I’m going to sell copies of my wand at an enormous markup,” Harry said, “and you can buy one like everyone else.”

Voldemort had been defeated.

“He hated us for our freedom,” Ron said.

“No, Ron,” Harry said. “He hated us for our free markets.”

Hermione ached with desire for the both of them to master her, but nobody paid her any attention.

"Girls are a waste of time Ron" explained Harry. "Young men spend time chasing them that they could spend on self improvement instead. At least that's what Jordan Peterson says . And Jordan knows everything. By the time I've read a self improvement book and listened to the Joe Rogan podcast, brief manual stimulation to a selection of pornographic videos is the only intimacy I require."

"But Harry... I'm so lonely.. all of the time.. and I think it's driving me mad.."

"Life is mad Ron. True sanity can only be found in the pursuit of nature. And whilst primitively mankind's biological needs are to reproduce and survive, mankind has evolved. Poverty is our only predator, wealth our one sanctity from the forlorn rags of growing old."

"I dunno Harry.. I think I'd feel a lot better about life if I was shagging Hermione"

"Trust me, Ron, when your expansive knowledge of financial markets lands you a top internship at Gringotts the girls will be forming a queue. Forget Hermione, forget all of the girls at this school. As apex predators we will be able to mate with partners of our choosing. "

They stood in silence now on the top of the astronomy tower. A soft breeze rustled the autumn leaves on the ground below and scattered them silently over the Great Lake. The giant squid swam near the shore, intermittently breaking the surface of the water with a strong crash before returning to the depths below. Ron looked out over the long, long skies of Hogwarts and dreamt of love and romance and the soft touch of woman. He had learned that a man can only be an economist for so long before he longs to be a man again and for music and dancing and girls. Harry began to explain how using game theory he had decided that the Patel twins would make the optimal dates to the Yule Ball and Ron sighed silently. But Harry needed him. His parents were both dead and he'd be all on his own otherwise. And so, in the gryffindor boys dormitory, when the sun goes down at Hogwarts and the immense castle becomes black and silent except for a flicker of a candle and a shadow on a wall, Ron Weasley dreams of Hermione Grainger.

source - durfess, facebook

[trvelyans-archive]

recompense

another commission for the lovely and kingly @dauntless-necromancer !!! thank you so much for commissioning me again, i love writing for this lil’ world with elrich and the Squad !!! i really liked working on this one and i really hope you enjoy !!! <3 <3 <3

-

9:53 Dragon

There’s a girl at the front gates of Castle Cousland, and she’s demanding to see the Hero of Ferelden.

Kieran pushes through the throng of soldiers that have gathered in front of the main doors to reach her. The girl, when he finally comes face-to-face with her, is a head shorter than him, with thick brown hair tied into an elegant braid hanging over her shoulder and her lips pulled into a frown. There’s something about her that looks familiar, but he’s certain he’s never seen her before – and he would remember her if he did, considering how easily and quickly she has commanded the attention of the crowd. Still, despite his wariness, he approaches her with his hood pulled down around his shoulders.

“Who are you?” Kieran asks. His wife, Satine, trails behind him and clutches the sleeve of his jacket, inspecting their guest carefully.

The girl meets Kieran’s eyes. “My name is Celia Mac Tir-Cousland,” she replies, sheathing her sword without so much as wavering, “and I’m looking for my father.”

-

9:30 Dragon

“I can’t believe I’m marrying the Queen.”

Morrigan glances up from where she’s been lying on Elrich’s chest to meet his eyes. “Neither can I,” she responds, raising her hands to trace the shape of his face. “And I cannot believe she agreed.”

The announcement was certainly startling for the court, however – Morrigan is willing to bet that there are a fair few nobles who wouldn’t agree with the decision, although there’s little they can do about it in the end, considering they would be challenging some of the most important people in Ferelden. “You know me, my love,” he says, running his fingertips up and down her spine. “I can be very convincing.”

Morrigan laughs. “Hardly,” she replies.

“Hey! You’re talking to a future king, here.”

“Prince-consort,” she reminds him airily. “You are not going to be king, Elrich. A king, and certainly not the king of Ferelden, could never have an apostate mistress. The nobles would sooner hang themselves than allow that to happen.”

He frowns, suddenly growing serious. “You’re not going to be my mistress, Morrigan,” he says softly, an affectionate look in his dark eyes. She never thought that anyone would look at her like that. “You are my partner in life. I hope you know that.”

With a playful roll of her eyes, she smothers a hand into his face and playfully pushes him away. “Don’t look at me like that,” she responds, and he just grins at her. “I do know that already, Elrich. You do not have to continue reminding me whenever it comes up.”

“Besides, Queen Anora and I have agreed that it is more of a… political arrangement.” He clears his throat, tilting his head back to stare up at the ceiling with a frown. “I have no feelings for her, Morrigan, nor does she have any for me.”

“Beside annoyance, perhaps.”

“Hey!” he repeats, chuckling. “You’re talking to a future prince-consort, here.”

“Yes, and he loves it.” She leans down to bite his earlobe, just long enough for him to start writhing with breathless laughter underneath her, and then releases him when she can’t hold back the chuckles tickling the back of her own throat. “You do not have to worry about my feelings, Elrich,” she says once they’ve recovered, shifting so she’s sitting higher in his bed and can see more of him. “I can handle them – as well as many other things, I might remind you – perfectly fine by myself.”

He raises an eyebrow, smiling, and she rolls her eyes before she even hears what he has to say. “And…?”

“Yes, yes, and our child. They’re not even here yet, and you’re already worried about them –“

“I’m not worried!” he protests, and then frowns. “I mean… of course I’m worried about them. I want them to be safe. I want you to be safe.”

He reaches up to cup her cheek, and Morrigan leans into it as he brushes his thumb over her skin. There’s a peace that settles over them, now, in this moment, with the candles throughout the room burning low and the shadows more comforting than menacing, like the only thing hiding inside of them is more warmth. She has not felt this comfortable, nor this happy, in her entire life.

And yet they can’t be together forever. They have a battle to fight. There’s a country in ruins that they’ve risked everything to save.

“You need some sleep,” she tells him, trying not to choke on the words as a sudden wave of emotion washes over her. “You will need it.”

He nods. “You’re right,” he replies. “As always.”

She smiles, and leans over to kiss his forehead before settling against his chest once more, letting the sound of his heartbeat lull her to sleep.

Whatever comes tomorrow, they have right now. And this has been worth waiting for.

-

9:33 Dragon

“They’re expecting an heir, you know.”

Elrich looks up from where he’s penning a letter to Morrigan to see Anora approaching.

As much as he likes the rest of the Palace, the garden is one of his favourite places to sit and think. The smell of flowers in the air; the sunlight. It reminds him of the garden in Castle Cousland, where he would sit and eat lunch with (and occasionally spar) Ser Gilmore when he was younger. (Even though he knows Fergus is taking good care of things back home, he misses it very much.) The garden is where he comes when he needs some time alone, usually to write a letter to Morrigan like he is now, which means Anora doesn’t often come find him here – she’s too busy attending to her duties – so the fact that she is coming to see him, at the time of day when she usually has the most to do, means that she must have been thinking long and hard about this.

“I know they are,” he says, watching her slow to a stop in front of them. Two years ago – perhaps even one – he would have denied her, knowing that his heart belongs to Morrigan and he did not want to have another child when he already could not see his son, but he did not become prince-consort because it was easy. He did it because he knew what needed to be done to save his home country, whatever the cost, and he was – and still is – going to have to live with that decision, despite his feelings. “We’ve talked about it before.”

“Elrich.” Anora sits down beside him, smoothing her hands over her skirts. His eyes narrow at her tone of voice for a second, and then, when she looks at him with a somewhat understanding expression, he feels anger dissipate and his shoulders relax. “We need to have a child soon. It’s for the good of the country. My country, the one I have sworn to lead – the one you swore to lead alongside me the day of our wedding.”

The day of their wedding was a memorable one, with the coronation and then the celebrations that neither of them really felt like attending, but it seems like it was so long ago, now. Elrich knows that it’s only been three years, but it feels like it’s been an eternity since the Landsmeet, since the Blight. Since his son – since his son with Morrigan – was born. “I know,” he replies, and he can’t help the sigh that escapes his lips as he runs his fingers through his hair. “I know, Anora.”

“It does not have to be now,” she says, and he’s surprised at how gently she says it, even as she reaches up to lay a hand on his shoulder that she seems to consider sliding up to his cheek. “But soon, alright? We cannot put it off much longer, no matter how much you wish to.”

Elrich glances over at her and smiles. Anora is a good leader, and a kind woman. Perhaps she’s kinder than he deserves, when he’s in love with another woman; when he can never be the husband she wants him to be. Morrigan knows very well that Elrich will have to raise another child as an heir, and Anora is the only person he would ever consider doing that for. She’s proven her understanding for him and his situation time and time again, and he wishes he could tell her how much he appreciates it without feeling like a fool. “I know,” he says again because that’s the only thing that feels sufficient enough. “I’m ready, Anora. Whenever you are.”

“I am glad to hear it,” she replies. “You are a good man, Elrich, and any child we have will be raised well. I know that.” Nodding, she adds, “I will leave you be, then, and I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Yes,” he replies, “see you then.”

She gives him one last smile before turning away, and Elrich looks down at the blank parchment in his hands, his own smile twisting into a frown.

Now that he has something important to write about, he should probably get started…

-

9:35 Dragon

“Morrigan –

My daughter was born last week. It’s a funny thing to write in a letter instead of telling you in person, but we don’t have that option right now, so this is the best I can do. I hope you’ll forgive me, my love. For lots of things, but firstly this.

Her name is Celia Eleanor Mac Tir-Cousland. It had been raining all night and all morning the day she was born, but the sun broke through the clouds when she was safe in her mother’s arms and streamed in through the window. If I were a different man I would think that it was the Maker blessing her – I’m trying to think like that anyway. I think that Anora is upset that the baby looks more like me than it does her, but we will love her anyway no matter what. She’s a beautiful child, and I’m hoping that I’ll be a good father to her. I’m sorry I can’t be a better father to Kieran.

I miss you every day, and dream of you every night. I long to be with you again, and remember our days together fondly with every breath. Stay safe, my love – I will find a way to see you soon, in a place where we can all be safe from the world for a while.

Give Kieran a hug and a kiss from me. Tell him that his father misses him more than anything. I can’t wait to see him again and hear his laughter, see his smile, watch his face light up when I show him something interesting. How he has so much curiosity at such a young age, I’ll never know. It’s my favourite thing.

With all of my love,

Elrich.”

-

“Elrich –

I am glad to hear the birth went smoothly. You will be a good father, and you and the Queen will prepare her well as heir to the throne. For the little I am sure about right now, I am sure about that much.

I miss you too. My bed feels lonesome without you and the sound of your snoring, which I miss more than I thought I would even though it disrupts my sleep more often than not. Please come visit us when you can. I understand your work is important, and would not ask you to give it up for my sake, but Kieran misses you.

I will be thinking of you all night. Please stay safe, my love.

Yours,

Morrigan.”

-

9:37 Dragon

It’s hard to finish writing a letter to Elrich when Kieran will simply not stop running around.

And it’s not that Morrigan does not understand his excitement. This is the first time he has really had a place to call home since he was born – it is the first time Morrigan has had a place to call home, too, for a very long time. They have beds to sleep in that aren’t stuffed with straw or grass, they have nice clothes – real clothes – and enough food to eat every night that they can go to bed with full stomachs, even if neither them are quite used to that yet.

But she wants to write this letter – she needs to write this letter. There is a lot of things she has to tell Elrich now that she and Kieran are officially moved into the palace in Orlais, and she hasn’t heard from him for a couple months now. She is trying not to worry because she has an image to maintain, but it’s hard not to worry when it comes to him so she is trying to write and send this later as soon as she can so that worrying can stop.

And she can’t send the letter because Kieran is distracting her.

“Darling,” Morrigan calls, staring out the window in front of her desk with slightly narrowed eyes. Most of the time she would be amused by her son’s antics, but she needs to finish this letter and then she will give him the attention he wants. “Are you being careful?”

“Yes, Mother,” Kieran responds from behind her. She can hear the smile clear in his voice only a few seconds before she hears the smash across the room that follows.

With a sigh, she turns in her seat and stands up, her eyes falling on a table across the room with nothing on it because Kieran accidentally pushed the vase that had been sitting on top of it onto the ground. It is nothing special – it was just a gift from the Empress that she gave Morrigan – so she doesn’t particularly care about it one way or another, but, nevertheless, Kieran’s eyes immediately start to well with tears.

Morrigan crouches down and pulls him into her arms just as he starts crying.

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” she says soothingly, rubbing his back as he buries his face into her shoulder. “It is just a decoration, nothing more.”

“I didn’t –“ He hiccups – “I didn’t mean to, it just h-happened, and I’m sorry, Mother.”

“Kieran, honey.” She pulls away from him and reaches up to wipe the tears from his cheeks, shaking her head with a quiet laugh. She was never this emotional at his age, and she’s glad that he feels like he is allowed to be. “It doesn’t matter, Kieran, I promise.”

“I j-just don’t want to ruin anything here,” he stammers, wrapping his fingers around her wrists while she slides her hands to his shoulders. “I like it here, and I don’t want us to have to l-leave.”

“I know,” she says. “I do not want us to have to leave either, but I promise that, if we do, it won’t be because you broke one vase, or two, or three. Especially not when I can hide all the evidence.” She smiles at him and, between his sniffles, he laughs, which is a near-miraculous sound to hear as a comforting mother. “Alright?”

“Alright,” he says. “But I will try not to break another one. Just in case.”

“That’s my son.” She pulls him against her and kisses his forehead, and when she straightens up, he tugs at the sleeve of her dress.

“Mother?” he asks, eyes wide and still wet as he looks up at her.

Morrigan sighs, smiling. “Yes, love?”

“I miss Papa.”

Despite herself, Morrigan feels her bottom lip start to wobble. He is certainly not the only one who misses Elrich.

“I know,” she replies. “We will see him soon.”

“Do you promise?” Kieran asks.

“I promise,” she says, and she feels like, of the promises she’s made today, it’s the one she believes the least.

-

9:39 Dragon

Celia sits on Elrich’s lap in the garden. He bounces her on his knee while she twirls a flower between her fingers and smiles down it, and he tries to control the ache in his heart that reminds him he’s leaving her – and Denerim, and perhaps Ferelden entirely – tomorrow. And he doesn’t know when he’ll return. And he doesn’t want to miss another one of his children growing up, but he will.

She already looks more like Elrich than Kieran does, even at four years old – she has warm brown skin dotted with little heart-shaped freckles and thick, dark hair with even darker eyes to match, though she’s much prettier than he is because, thankfully, she has Anora’s features. She has a rumbly giggle and the sweetest smile Elrich has ever seen, and it can often take hours for him to put her to sleep because she is just so curious about everything – there’s a shelf in her room lined with trinkets and toys she’s picked up from whenever they explore the city together, and he often finds her in her room staring at them before he puts her to bed.

He’ll miss that, too, telling her stories of the Blight until she falls asleep. He’ll miss her so much.

But he can return, one day, when he’s free of the taint. He wouldn’t go if he didn’t have to – it makes him feel sick to think about how he’s going to miss watching another of his children grow up – but he’s becoming weaker and weaker already, and he’d rather try and fail to be in his children’s futures than give up without trying and force them to go through losing one of their parents.

He knows exactly what that feels like, and he can’t do it. Not without trying his best, like he always has. Like he has to.

“Mother says you are going away for a while,” Celia says, turning around to look at him. Elrich reaches up to push some hair behind her ear, smiling.

“I am,” he replies. “But it’s very important, my love. I promise.”

“Will you miss me?” she asks, squinting in the sunlight that makes her eyes shine golden.

“Of course I will,” he says, trying to ignore the way his smile begins to fade. “I will miss you every day, Celia.”

She hands the flower to him. “Will you remember me?” she asks.

He plucks the flower from her hands and holds it up to his nose, sniffing deeply, and, to his delight, she starts giggling, leaning her head on his shoulder while he looks down at her. “I will never forget you,” he answers finally, handing the flower back to her to keep. “You’re my favourite girl.”

“Really?” She frowns. “Before Mother?”

“Before Mother,” he says.

“You’re my favourite father.” Celia buries her face against his chest. “I will miss you so much, Papa.”

He presses his cheek against the crown of her head. She smells like flowers and soap, and she hugs him so tightly around his middle that he feels safer than he’s felt in a long time. He’s sure that nothing could make him feel safer. “I will write you whenever I can,” he promises, trying not to choke on his words.

“I love you, Papa.”

“I love you, too.” And he wishes so badly that things were different.

-

9:41 Dragon

“Elrich –

You would like Skyhold, I think. There are far too many people for my liking, but Kieran is happy. As happy as a boy his age can be, I suppose. He’s gotten in trouble more than once – you know how curious he is – but we are safe, here. For now, anyway.

The Inquisitor and I are leaving soon for the Arbor Wilds. I do not know how long it will be until I can write you again. I hope you are well, my love, and I hope you can join us again soon. We miss you dearly. I miss you dearly.

Love,

Morrigan.”

-

“Morrigan,

I am in Antiva right now. You would hate it, I imagine. It’s very loud, and the people are very happy – well, they are in the taverns, anyway. It’s nice to take a night off from searching for a cure. It would be nicer if you were here, of course, but I’m trying not to dwell on that, or else I’ll drop everything to come find you.

I’m glad that Kieran is happy. I know things were hard for him in Orlais. I have not heard from Celia and Anora in a few months, but I would like for Kieran and Celia to meet soon – well, as soon as they can, when I return to Ferelden. She’s as curious as he is. At least she was when I last saw her. I think they would be good friends. I hope they are.

I miss you. I never stop thinking about you. And I love you, dearly. Never forget that.

Yours always and forever,

Elrich.”

-

9:43 Dragon

“Mother,” Celia asks, “when is Father coming home?”

“I don’t know, Celia,” Anora replies, pushing food around her plate with a frown. “He’s on an important mission.”

“For what?”

Anora sighs, giving her daughter an affectionate look. “You’re too young, my love,” she says. “It is not the right time to tell you yet.”

Celia frowns, swinging her legs back and forth underneath the table. “Did he tell you to tell me that?”

“Of course not,” Anora scoffs. “Your father would tell you everything if I let him, but it’s not the right time. He will tell you when he returns.”

“And you don’t know when that will be,” Celia whispers.

“No.” Anora leans over to squeeze her hand, but Celia’s frown does not disappear. “Finish your supper, sweetheart.”

She doesn’t finish her supper. She just wants to go to her room.

-

9:45 Dragon

Celia passes the small, ornate box between her hands.

Her father is not here for her tenth birthday. She doesn’t blame him – he still has to finish his important mission – but she misses him. She wishes he were here to hold her hand and sit her on his lap; she wishes he were here to put her to sleep every night with his stories.

Instead of returning to Denerim for her birthday, his gift for her is whatever is inside this box.

She opens it, and pulls the silk fabric away to reveal a silver dagger. Resting on top of it is a note.

“Celia,

When I return, I’m going to teach you how to sword fight. For now, however, I give you a dagger in case you need to protect yourself. Don’t play with it – it’s not a toy. This will keep you safe in my stead. You are incredibly precious, not only to the country but to your mother and me.

I love you, Celia. I miss you. And happy birthday. I can’t wait to see the woman you become.

Love,

Father.”

Her face crumples, and she tosses the note aside, curling up in the middle of her bed and clutching the box to her chest.

-

9:47 Dragon

This is the first time Celia has seen Father in a long time.

“Plant your feet,” he says, tapping the front of her thigh with his hand. She can barely see his smile through the hair of his beard. “It’ll be harder for an enemy to knock you off-balance.”

“And then what?” Celia asks.

“And then,” Father says, “you watch your opponent.”

“Shouldn’t I attack?”

“You’ve seen my scars,” he answers. She has seen them – even the new ones. She could see them at supper last night. He wasn’t even trying to hide them. “That’s what happens when you throw yourself into battle. I don’t want you to do the same thing, my love. You could easily take an opponent down if you outsmart them.”

“So I watch what they’re doing, and then…?”

“Dodge,” he answers. “Try coming at me.”

Celia’s sword falls down by her side. “What?”

“It’s okay.” Her father smiles at her again. Despite his hoarse voice, his shaking hands, and the bags under his eyes, he still looks strong – his smile is even stronger. “They’re blunted swords. Don’t worry.”

She frowns, and yet still, after a long moment of thought, darts out towards him. Before she can even swing the sword, he steps to the side and, as she stumbles forward, touches the back of her armor gently with his own blade.

“That’s good,” he replies. “You’re doing well, Celia.”

“I am?” she asks, turning around and raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

“Yes. I’m very proud of you, my love.”

Celia turns to face him. “I don’t want you to be proud of me,” she says quietly. “I want you to be here.”

Elrich frowns. “I know,” he responds softly, and in that moment he sounds more like a man than the warrior that he is. He doesn’t have to say anything else – she knows what they’re both thinking anyway, what is left unsaid between them.

He wants to stay, but he can’t.

-

9:49 Dragon

“I heard that you’ve been incredibly successful in training.”

Celia looks up from her plate, smiling. “I hope so,” she replies. “I’m trying my best, using what Father taught me. And you, of course, Mother.”

“You’re so young, Celia,” Anora says. “And yet you have accomplished so much. I know your father thinks you take after him, but I see so much of myself in you.” She tilts her head, raising a hand to touch her daughter’s cheek. “I think your grandfather would be proud of you. Your grandmother would be, too.”

She’s tired of hearing that people who aren’t here would be proud of her. Still, she smiles.

“Thank you, Mother,” Celia says, looking down at her plate once more as her mother’s hand falls away. “I’m pleased to hear it. Do you want to spar together after we finish eating?”

“I can’t,” Anora answers, “but I may come down to the training yard and watch you when I have a moment.”

“Alright.” Celia’s smile turns into a frown. “I hope you can, mother.”

-

9:51 Dragon

“Mother,

I’m leaving to find Father.

I have not heard from him since his last letter, when he said he was close to finding a cure. I want to help him if I can. When I find him, we will return together.

I am taking three soldiers with me. Please don’t punish them when we return. Punish me, if you have to. I just want our family to be together again.

I love you. I’ll be safe. I promise.

Love,

Celia.”

-

9:53 Dragon

“Celia,” Father says, “I’m sorry –“

“You’re sorry?” she says. “’Sorry’ can’t take back the years I spent without you! ‘Sorry’ can’t take back the sleepless nights I spent wondering if you loved me at all!”

When he finally came down to the gates after Kieran told him that Celia was here, he led her into a private room in the castle and dismissed the guards standing nearby. Despite his promise that they’d have the conversation alone, she had a feeling that the rest of the family – his family – was on the other side of the door, listening. She would tell them to go away if she could think about anything but him right now – but him and how angry she is.

“Celia.” Father’s face falls. “You know I love you.”

“I was a child!” she says. “I was a child, and you –“ She takes a deep breath and tries to stop the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. “You left me,” she finishes, voice cracking.

“I know,” he responds, moving in front of her and placing his hands on her shoulders. “I know I did. It seemed like the right thing to do. I needed to find a cure for the Calling – I needed to make sure I’d be there to see you get married, have children, grow old and happy and find your place in the world.” A shadow crosses his face. “I needed to give you what I didn’t have as I grew up. What left me so broken.”

“Father –“

“It’s not an excuse,” he continues, and she feels the anger leaving her body, “and it’s a poor explanation. But losing my parents was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through – before leaving you and Kieran, of course. And I thought that I could trade being there for you during your childhood for being there for you when you grew up so you didn’t feel the way I did – so alone and so uncertain – but that was foolish of me. I should’ve tried harder to see you, Celia. And I’m sorry I didn’t. I will never stop being sorry.”

He looks so old and so weak. Even though he’s cured of the taint, he looks weaker than she’s ever seen him. It’s hard to stay angry with him when he’s like this – when she knows very well that he understands and accepts that very same anger. “I just wanted you to be there,” she whispers. “Kieran wanted you to be there for him, too.”

“Kieran and I are patching things up,” Father replies, and he sounds so certain of himself that she can’t help but feel hopeful. “Slowly but surely. We can patch things up, too, Celia. I want that more than anything, but only if you want it as well. I understand if you don’t, and I’ll accept it if you don’t want that.”

She stares into his eyes for a long, long moment – eyes that she recognizes at first as her own – before she sighs. “I do want that,” she says.

“Good,” he says, his mouth curving into a grin. “That’s great, Celia. I’m so happy.”

He wraps his arms around her shoulders and hugs her close, and she allows herself to bury her face into his chest and cry.

“I love you,” he says, reaching up to run his hand over the back of her head and hold her closer. For the first time in a long time, she believes it.

-

Celia sits in the chair beside her father’s. Everyone else – Morrigan, Kieran and Satine, who Celia likes much more than she thought she would – has left the dining room, leaving the two of them alone. Though dinner was filled with laughter and stories, and she liked getting to know her half-brother after so many years of knowing he was out there but not knowing who or where he was, she’s glad to have a moment alone with her father. It’s been far too long since that happened. He has an affectionate arm slung around her shoulder, and she rests her head against his as she watches the fire.

She searched for him for two years, through Orlais, through Ferelden. She even went to the Free Marches for a time. It turns out that he was here, in Castle Cousland, and he has been here for a while. They only kept it secret to keep him safe from the Wardens and whatever the Order has turned into. She would be more upset than she was this morning if she weren’t so relieved that he was alive – and she would be more upset if she didn’t enjoy travelling so much during her searches for him. She’s 18, now, and she hopes that, when she returns to the city, her mother will let her go out into the world again.

There is a lot of work to be done, and she’s young – she wants to do the kind of work that her father can’t do anymore.

And he deserves to rest. He deserves to live the life he fought for in peace, with Celia when she can be here, and Kieran, and her father’s partner, Morrigan. It’s strange seeing him with a woman that isn’t Mother, but Celia supposes that they were never in love in the first place. He seems to relax most when he’s around Morrigan. He seems happiest at her side.

It makes her long for something like that, too. Another reason she wants to travel again – perhaps her person is out there somewhere, waiting for her to find them and bring them home to meet her family – or her families, perhaps, both old and new.

She smiles. Her father shakes her gently.

“You have a room, here, to stay when you want it,” Elrich says, pulling her from her thoughts.

“What about Denerim?”

“Your mother understands,” he responds with a regretful sigh. “As do the people. I was never a king, not really, nor was I much of a prince-consort, and my duty was always to the Wardens, first and foremost.”

“And now?”

Celia pulls away from her father to look up at him.

“My duty is to you and your brother,” he says. “I promise that I will never disappear again. And I will make up for the time I missed – the time I missed with you. Alright?”

She believes his promise, but she’s not going to miss an opportunity to get something from him when she can. “You know what would help with that?” Celia asks.

He raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“If you spar with me tomorrow.”

-

Unfortunately, Elrich gives up fairly quickly, to Celia’s disappointment. She was looking forward to besting him – she’s certain she would’ve, had she gotten the chance. Now he sits on a bench in the training yard with his arm wrapped around Morrigan as he watches Kieran and Celia fight with blunted, wooden swords, the kinds of swords that children would use. (She told him this when he first brought them out, and he only said, “Well, you’re always my child, Celia.”) The sun is high in the clear blue sky, and they have hours to spend outside yet – Satine arranged for them to eat dinner in the garden, at Celia’s request, and then, when it gets dark, they’ll retire to the library to watch Kieran and Satine play chess. Morrigan thinks that Satine will win; Elrich thinks that Kieran will.

Celia doesn’t care. Either way, she feels like she’s finally won.

[dishonoredrpg]

Congratulations, JEM! You’ve been accepted for the role of STRENGTH with the faceclaim of MICHIEL HUISMAN. I think you best stated it yourself -- Roland is kind and cruel in equal measure, willing to break the tenets of his own moral code for a little bit of kingdom. I found myself drawn to him in a way I wasn’t expecting, which is exactly what I wanted for a character like Strength; in spite of his constant contradictions and struggles with the work he’s doing and his willingness to acknowledge he might have been led astray by Septimus, he’s still real. Still fathomable on the larger scale. He has the potential to be a real power player with the Sons of Argos in his hands, and I’m more than excited to see how things play out with the plots you’ve provided and concepts you’ve so kindly shown here!

Please review the CHECKLIST and send your blog in within 24 hours.

OOC

NAME: Jem.

PRONOUNS: She/her.

AGE: 26.

TIMEZONE, ACTIVITY LEVEL: EST. I’d say my activity level is about a 6/10! My work schedule is a little wonky right now, but I always try to carve out some time for writing, and I’m usually able to crank out replies consistently throughout the week.

ANYTHING ELSE? Not a thing!

IN CHARACTER

SKELETON: Strength.

NAME: Roland Alexander Bishop.

FACECLAIM: Michiel Huisman (1st preference) or Can Yaman (2nd preference).

AGE: 33.

DETAILS: I fell in love with about 10 different skeletons before it dawned on me that Strength is, in fact, my one an only!!!!!! I’m so completely fascinated with the dichotomy of Roland’s character. He’s somehow kind and cruel in equal measure, a man of conscience willing to break his moral code for the right price. With no parents to speak of, he raised himself by virtue of naught but teeth-bared survival, and he’s carried that instinct for perseverance with him well into his adulthood in a way that I think has perhaps blurred the lines of what he believes to be right and wrong, or at least blurred his willingness to cross those lines. I wouldn’t say he’s altogether without integrity, because his stomach yet turns when buries his dagger hilt-deep in the belly of the King’s enemies, but his moral compass certainly isn’t working the way it used to these days. He’s whip-smart, too (he must be to have assembled a legion of Tyrholm’s nastiest, most ruthless bastards and foster loyalty and obedience among them). By that same token, though, he’s prone to foolishness in the face of profit. A boy raised by the street urchins of Tyrholm knows better than to trust kings, and had he used his head to consider his contract with Septimus, and not his deep-running pockets, he surely would’ve seen all that gold for what it really was: a gilded cage. Not all that glitters is gold, and not all that’s gold glitters. Here we have him, then: a man kind and cruel, bound by integrity and bound by greed, moral and immoral, clever and foolish. A ruffian mercenary who’s now finds himself under the King’s thumb. An avaricious profiteer who will do almost anything for the right price, but a fair and just leader devoted to his men. A self-made king of Tyrholm’s rapscallions and reprobates, but a servant to a King with no principles to speak of. He’s a living, breathing paradox, always walking a fine line between two versions of self. But in Septimus’s Tyrholm, there’s no room for fair-weathered allies, and if Roland plans on terminating his contract with the King, it’ll be a bloody affair. He didn’t exactly read the contract’s fine print, but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have to honor a treaty with a King whose head in his a basket, right?

BACKGROUND:

He never knows his parents. His mother leaves him on the stoop of a small temple in Hightown when he’s a babe. An Emissary finds him, and for some time, he’s looked after by acolytes of the Undying. They’re kind, mostly, from what he can remember, but he never takes to faith the way they all hope he will, and as soon as he’s old enough to run, he does—he runs far, far away, straight into the underbelly of Lowtown.

The streets of Lowtown raise him, and later in life, when he’s asked about his heritage, he’ll say that Tyrholm is his mother, and she may well be, for the man he is today is due in full to her lessons.

The seaport town raises him brutally, with an iron fist. He’s a boy with only ten years of life on him, lean and fresh-faced, when he takes to the streets of Lowtown, and in his first months of independence, he’s so gaunt that you can see each divot of his ribs, and he counts them over and over again to pass the time. He’s a fast learner, a living, breathing study in survival, and he realizes in no time at all that he’ll have to earn his right to life.

He does just that. He watches the other street-dwellers, men and women of all ages and shapes and sizes, each hungrier than the last. Some fight for coin. Some beg. Some dance. Some sing arias. Some charm snakes. Some sell looted treasure, others sell their bodies. Roland watches them all, tries to map out a viable plan of action for himself. He tries his hand at magic tricks, but his sleights of hand are nowhere as advanced as the smoke and mirrors of the veteran illusionist that performs at high noon every day at the marketplace. He tries fighting, next, and he’s good at that, even at a young age, but he’s skinny, weak from hunger, and he spends what little coin he wins on herbs and medicines from the local botanist to patch himself back up. Theft is his next venture—he’s a natural. He has good, quick hands that dart in and out of pockets less intrusively than a dove’s feather carried on a springtime breeze, deft and steady. For a few years, this sustains him. He loots coin, jewels, and treasures of all sort straight from pockets and purses and holsters, and he never gets caught.

When he’s fourteen, he steals a dagger straight from the belt of a fisherman selling his catch at the docks. The hilt is carved from ivory, and the blade shines like molten moonlight beneath the dawning sun. It’ll sell well, he thinks, only… He likes it. It feels nice in the palm of his hand, lightweight enough for a fourteen-year-old to wield with no trouble at all, and he spends the next week twirling it between his fingers, sharpening it against sea-worn rocks, practicing parlor tricks. He finds he has otherworldly aim, and he hits every target, from sandbags to trees to peaches to peach pits. And so, like any man well-versed in the trade of survival, he takes his Undying-given talent and turns a profit from it. He begins performing in Lowtown’s streets, and word of the boy who can slice a pomegranate in half midair while blindfolded spreads like wildfire.

They say that idle hands are the devil’s playthings, and it isn’t long before the devils come crawling out of every corner of Lowtown in search of Roland’s hands, eager to lay claim to a boy who will no doubt make a fine weapon to be used at their discretion. A boy young enough to appear unassuming to targets and old enough to get his hands dirty. The first to find him is a headhunter named Argos, a surly bastard with scar that stretches from his left temple all the way down to the right corner of his mouth, ugly and red. The look of him makes Roland tremble, and years later, he’ll laugh at his boyish fear of a man beloved to him, a man kinder and with thrice more heart than any of the pretty-faced, rosy-cheeked nobles Roland had ever robbed.

By the grace of the Undying, Argos takes him under his wing before any of the other leeches can latch onto him. Roland isn’t a particularly religious man, but he thinks, sometimes, that maybe the Undying is real, and that maybe she does favor him, because he can think of no other reason why he was delivered into the hands of Argos, and not any of the other ghouls of Lowtown who would surely have preyed on his inexperience and whittled him into a fine weapon with an expiration date of five, maybe six more years. As it is, Argos teaches him to kill just the same as all the others would have, but he teaches him how to kill honorably, quickly. He teaches him to respect life and death in equal measure, and he warns him that what he takes from the world, he must give back to it twice over. He teaches him how to fight well and how to fight dirty. He teaches him how to fight with his hands bound, with his eyes blindfolded. He introduces him to the Warrior’s Guild, where Roland’s career as a mercenary begins.

He does as he was taught, and he gives twice over for every life he takes. In spite of the dirty work he does, humility and honor flourish impossibly within him like a garden of desert roses in dead, dry soil. He donates a portion of his coin to brothels, street performers, pickpockets—the lowliest of Lowtown, those without places and people to call home, those who can’t put a name to the feeling of love. He never forgets his roots, and though he earns his weight in gold, enough to leave Lowtown and never look back, enough to dress himself in the wares of a proper Hightowner, he never leaves. Lowtown, the Warrior’s Guild, the docks, the street urchins, the baker’s son who sneaks him scraps of burnt bread, Argos—these are all home.

He’s twenty when Argos dies on a job gone wrong, and as the underwolders of the Warrior’s Guild and Lowtown mourn the death of Argos, a night king in his own right, beloved by those who love naught, they turn to Roland with expectant eyes. Roland, the boy who Argos affectionately called “Bullseye.” Roland, the boy who Argos raised to kill well, and meaningfully. Roland, the man, now, who Argos preened to inherit his legacy, to lead the mischief-makers and nightmare-makers, to protect Tyrholm’s underworld. And so he does.

It’s no easy feat, to be sure, wrangling a group of soldiers of fortune, kingslayers, outcasts, thieves, killers. But Roland is stubborn in his determination, and he works tirelessly to weed out the evil; to foster trust between himself and the good; to create a legion of Lowtown’s meanest bastards and make something special of them. Leadership becomes him. His humility, a rare quality in Tyrholm, and his charisma inspire ironbound devotion from a breed of people who know nothing of loyalty. He’s fair and kind in equal measure, and the men and women of the Warrior’s Guild take to him like the drape of midnight sky takes to the north star. For all of Roland’s goodwill, his ruthlessness is never forgotten. A killer is a killer is a killer, and those who mistake his kindness for weakness learn well that his honor knows some bounds. He goes to great lengths to instill that same notion of honor in his host of mercenaries, and he teaches them the same lessons that were taught to him. He teaches them to kill quickly, cleanly, and honorably, and he teaches them to give the same way that Argos taught him to. They resist, in the beginning, as all creatures of habit do, but in the end, they become a fine brood of noble killers, if such a thing exists. They’re vicious bastards, all of them, but they learn to respect life and death in equal turn. In his mentor’s honor, he calls his troop of sellswords the Sons of Argos, and in no time at all, Roland and the Sons are notorious for the dirty work they do—and how well they do it.

Roland and the Sons of Argos become so notorious, in fact, that word of Tyrholm’s them reaches King Septimus himself, and he promptly offers Roland a deal that he ought to refuse. He doesn’t. Greed and the promise of prosperity for the future generations of the Sons blind him, and the moment the ink on the contract dries, dread washes over him, and he can nearly picture Argos rolling over in his grave, fixing him with that look of grim disappointment he used when he was displeased with Roland.

In the beginning, the King’s assignments aren’t so bad. Roland and the Sons are asked to tie up loose ends, eliminate political threats, clear out bandits. Easy. Roland obliges, and the dirty work he and the Sons do is immaculate. But the King’s orders grow bleaker as time passes, and soon enough, Roland can hardly sleep through the night without waking from nightmares of his own making: screams that could crack glass, the sound of weeping broken up by choppy sobs, enough blood on his hands to fill up the Sahrnian. You must give twice over what you take from this world, Argos had told him, and he’s beginning to feel the weight of a debt long overdue. He’s taken so much, lately, life after innocent life, and his moral compass whirs in protest every time he plunges his dagger into the belly of an enemy not his own.

PLOT IDEAS:

Roland breathes and bleeds for the Sons of Argos, and there’s little—no, there’s nothinghe won’t do to protect his legion, even if that means compromising his honor. The Sons of Argos is his legacy, his life’s making, and he’ll sell his soul to highest bidder to ensure the continued prosperity of his ragtag battalion. It’s why he signed the King’s contract, and it’s why he yet serves the insufferable oaf. The coin Septimus funnels into his pockets is enough to sustain the Sons for generations, and not even Roland’s stalwart honor could sway his resolve to preserve the Sons. But a life bought and owed is not a life worth living, and Roland has learned well the cost of servitude. He’s spent the last decade assembling a group of fine men and women, teaching monsters the rite of nobility, preaching the gospel of life, taking and giving it. Nothing in this world is as beloved to him as the Sons, and he’ll be damned if stands by idly and watches Septimus sic Roland’s lot of honor-bound sellswords on his enemies like a pack of rabid dogs. The Sons of Argos are a proud brood of beasts; they are not pawns to be used to wage and win the King’s infantile wars. Septimus thinks he’s bought the Sons’ loyalty, but he’d do well to remember that loyalty bought can be outbid. Loyalty earned, contrariwise, is everlasting, Roland has earned enough of the Sons’ loyalty to last lifetimes. The Sons of Argos may well serve Septimus, but it’s Roland they’ve sworn an oath to; it’s Roland they answer to, it’s Roland they kill for, and it’s Roland they bend a knee to. Should the benefits of revolting against Septimus ever outweigh the benefits of serving him, it will take only a look from Roland to rally his Sons of Argos against the King.

Do you know who’s good at rebellion? A man who’s spent years squashing the very notion of it. Since the beginning of his arrangement with Septimus, he and the Sons have been charged with eliminating uprisings of all sorts. Some fires have been more difficult to put out than others, some rebellions have been organized better than others, and some have been led by insurgents quicker and braver than others. Roland’s well-acquainted with the many shades of revolt in Tyrholm, and I’d say that makes him a damned good asset in the bid to overthrow Septimus, wouldn’t you? Roland and his Sons are a hell of wildcard if ever there was one, and as the revolters of Tyrholm begin to coalesce, they’d do well to entreat the Sons’ Captain. Let us not forget what happened to Agamemnon’s army when the King of Mycenae waged war without Achilles and his Myrmidons.

Roland, for all his vulgar mannerisms and bold-as-brass behavior, isn’t stupid. He knows he’s sitting on a small goldmine made up of The Hanged Man’s secrets—he just hasn’t decided what to do with that particular treasure trove just yet. Roland is uncannily good at playing his hand close to his chest, and he thinks he’ll wait this one out a little longer before he shows the head servant his royal flush. Perhaps he’ll reveal what he knows and use it to leverage The Hanged Man as a resource. Perhaps he’ll take the information he’s filed away and sell it to the highest bidder. He’s not sure yet, but for The Hanged Man’s sake, he hopes the poor bastard folds soon, because Roland doesn’t think they’re very good at playing this game.

Conscience, thy name is Judgment. It’s strange, really, the way the Cleric amplifies all that goodness in Roland tenfold, in turn amplifying all the guilt that goodness births when compromised. His conscience has never been particularly content with the dirty work Septimus pays him and the Sons handsomely to do, but ever since he began attending Judgment’s sermons, his remorse has made a home in the marrow of his bones. He knows what he’s doing isn’t just or good, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s Judgment who makes him feel the truth of it all, every grain of it, and he finds himself growing sick with guilt these days. You wouldn’t think a Cleric has much pull in the dawn of a war on the horizon, but it’s Judgment who has Roland’s ear, and it’s Judgment who’s beginning to make Roland wonder if, perhaps, a revolution would make for a fine penance, coin and contract be damned.

There’s a reason the moon and sun never share the sky at the same time, and there’s a reason Roland and The Fool don’t often share a room at the same time. It’s not that Roland has no respect for the King’s Captain of the Guard, because he does, but cleaning up The Fool’s messes and tying up the loose ends of their army’s incompetence is getting old, quick. Still, the sun shines favorably on The Fool, paints them in the gold of heroism and leaves Roland and his Sons to bask in the muted silver of moonlight. The Sons of Argos are in this for gold, not glory, so he doesn’t terribly mind The Fool and their men acting as frontmen and taking undue credit for the dirty work Roland and the Sons do, but the bastard has the audacity to parade around Castle Tyrholm like they’re the Undying’s gift to man. It’s only a matter of time until the tension between the pair of captains comes to a head, and when it does, Roland is sure the fallout will be catastrophic, with far-reaching repercussions. A pity, really, because if The Fool could swallow their pride and Roland could swallow his prejudice, they could do great, terrible things together.

CHARACTER DEATH: Yes, absolutely!

WRITING SAMPLE

He dreams of his life’s small joys. He dreams of poppy fields in southern Tyrholm and figs stolen from the sweet shop next to the bakery in Lowtown. He dreams of the smell of sea salt, the sound of low tide crashing against black shale rock. He dreams of the baker’s boy, who used to sneak him scraps of burnt bread when he was naught but a half-starved child. He dreams of the boy’s kind smile, and his impossibly kinder eyes: one brown, one blue. He dreams of Argos, how the corners of his eyes would crinkle when he’d laugh at Roland, face warm with a rare fondness seen once, maybe twice in a lifetime. He dreams of the Sons, the lot of them gathered in this brothel or that tavern, heads thrown back as they all boom a chorus of boisterous laughter that draws more than one sidelong glance. He dreams of JUDGMENT, the way their voice rolls like the drip of warm honey, sounds something like absolution, atonement. He dreams of a time when he was proud of the man he was, of the work he did, even the dirtiest of it, because it was done meaningfully, with honor.

He wakes with a start, and the world returns to him in pieces, slowly. First light filters dimly into the barracks, and he huffs a quiet sigh as pushes himself up into a sitting position and swings his legs over the side of his cot. The Sons sleep soundly around him, and here, like this, they look nearly…peaceful. Roland catalogues the memory and stores it somewhere in his mind it won’t soon be forgotten. The rest of Castle Tyrholm, save for those of the King’s Guard working night patrol, won’t rise until sunup, at the earliest, but Roland’s always been a bit of a bastard when it comes to the Sons’ unforgiving schedule. They’re welcome to fight and fuck and drink their weight in ale until the moon sets, but come dawn, the day’s work begins. A fair trade-off, if you ask Roland (and one that inspires good behavior without Roland having to explicitly enforce it).

Soundlessly, Roland reaches over to the bunk next to his and gives Galen, his most trusted lieutenant bar none, a solid smack on the cheek. “Up.” The command is quiet, but it carries the weight of a king’s authority all the same.  Brow pinches, Galen opens his eyes halfway and makes a vulgar gesture at Roland, who only laughs. “Fuck off,” Galen hisses as he turns half of his face back into the plush bedding of his cot, one eye closed and one trained on Roland. “Fuck off…?” Roland prompts, crooking his forefinger expectantly in a silent come on gesture. Galen rolls his one open eye. “Fuck off, Captain,” he amends. A low, throaty chuckle rumbles somewhere deep in Roland’s chest. “Better. Get dressed and gather the lot. His Grace has a job for us.” The way Roland says “His Grace” doesn’t sound particularly blasphemous, but Galen, who knows him so well, will surely have no trouble at all undressing the resentment that manifests in the way his lips curl hatefully around the King’s title. Galen passes him a long-suffering look, and Roland returns it empathetically, but they say no more on the subject. Roland dresses quickly and stands to leave, and Galen salutes him with his middle finger, but he nonetheless complies, and he, too, makes fast work of dressing.

The Dining Hall is… Well, it is as it always is. The Sons, loud and full of life even in the early hours of first light, earn more than one glare from other guests in the Hall. They’re outsiders, here, cawing ravens flying among a flock of singsong blackbirds, and the good people of Castle Tyrholm never let Roland or his Sons forget it. They don’t belong here, and as Roland catches dual sets of narrow eyes fixed on him, one belonging to THE HANGED MAN and the other belonging to THE FOOL, he wonders if they ever will. He doesn’t particularly care, so he tosses THE HANGED MAN a sly wink, and for THE FOOL, he presses his index and middle fingers against his lips and blows him a kiss. Neither seem particularly impressed with his flip, decidedly Lowtown behavior, but he cares not. Some things in this world are absolute. The sun rises each day, the sky is blue, and Roland Bishop will never balk in the face of judgment. He is as sure of the man he is as the Clerics are of the Undying. He will never waver from his spirit, his honor, his nature, and he will never know the shame of others. He is the legacy of Argos and Lowtown, a good man and a good city, in his estimation, and though he’s not always proud of the things he does, he is proud of the man he is, and he’s prouder yet of the legion he’s created. Wolves don’t lose sleep over the opinions of sheep, and the Sons of Argos don’t lose sleep over the opinions of a fucking cook and a Guard-Captain whose track record leaves something to be desired.

The meal is a quick one, and Roland thinks fortune might favor him today, because the Sons enter and exit the Dining Hall without brawling with any of the King’s Guard, and by the time the sun has fully risen, Roland and his men are well underfoot. They travel by horse to the northernmost point of the farmlands, where the King’s Spymaster has evidently caught wind of a budding rebellion. Roland stopped wondering long ago if there’s any truth to the Spymaster’s claims at all, or if THE DEVIL spoon-feeds the King lies just to keep the tyrant of their back.

Their journey is short, and so is the battle (if you can even call a massacre a battle) that ensues. It’s violent and bloody, but the Sons are trained for this brand of dirty work, and their victory is swift. At the end of it all, only one remains: the leader of what was a poorly organized coup that never stood a chance against the King and his cronies.

“He’s inside the barn,” Galen says as Roland kneels to push down the eyelids of a boy of no more than fifteen years. Roland doesn’t have to look up to know that Galen’s face is grim, and neither does he need a mirror to know that his own face is pale as driven snow. His gut knots and double-knots with throngs of unease, and guilt begins to gnaw in earnest at his well-meaning heart. Still, he yet goes through the motions: wipes the blood from his dagger, helps his men make a pyre of the bodies, closes the eyes of all the dead and prays that they’ll be better off in their next lives than they were in this one. When the dirty work is done, he joins the rest of the Sons in the estate’s small barn, where they wait with the self-crowned king of what was a novice mutiny at best and a botched rally at worst.

In the chaos of carnage, Roland hadn’t gotten a good look at the rebels’ fearless, foolish leader, and seeing him now, the knots in his stomach tighten tenfold. He’s on his knees with his head hung low, held at either of his arms by two Sons and stayed by a third, whose sword is pressed flush against his neck. He looks about the same age as Roland, maybe a few years his youth, with sun-soaked hair that looks reddish in places wet with blood. The Sons wait patiently for Roland’s command, the quiet of the room a stark foil to the noisy bustle of the Dining Hall earlier that morning.

“What’s your name?” he asks, voice soft as a slip of cotton hung out to dry. The man doesn’t answer; he doesn’t even look up. Roland looses a quiet sigh. The King has instructed him, as he always does, to gather whatever information he can—by any means necessary. He and the Sons are meant to gut villagers bloody and cut out their tongues if they don’t divulge their secrets. They’re meant to exterminate the hope of revolution and send a message to neighboring revolters. They’re meant to be hounds that bite at the heels of a people who have everything to lose and risk it yet for naught but the meager chance of a Tyrholm free of Septimus’s plague of pride and greed. But the Sons of Argos are no dogs. Killers they may be, but they’re a proud brood, the lot of them, and they do their dirty work with as much honor as they can. If it’s gore and bloodletting Septimus wants, let the old prick get off his throne and terrorize wives and sons and husbands and daughters himself.

Roland was taught to kill honorably and quickly, to respect life and death in equal measure, and he pays homage the lessons of Argos daily. It’s clear that the rebel-king isn’t feeling particularly chatty, and if he won’t loosen his tongue, there’s not much to be done about it. There’s not much to be done at all, really, except to give the man a quick and honorable death. “You fought well,” Roland murmurs. He means it. Galen is sporting what Roland can only assume is a broken nose given to him by the man, and it had taken more than one Son to fully bring him down. Death, too, must be earned, and this man, with all his lionheart courage, has earned his. Distantly, Roland thinks that this very man could’ve perhaps toppled Septimus’s rule himself, if given the proper resources. He has the grit for rebellion, to be sure, and the spirit, too, but he lacks the wherewithal, the time, the training. A pity, he muses. He could’ve made history, the poor bastard.

Out of the corner of his eye, Roland catches Galen staring at him intently, curiously, like he knows exactly what he’s thinking, and maybe he does. Galen opens his mouth, maybe to ask something, maybe to say something, but Roland gives him a fractional shake of his head, and Galen presses his lips into a tight line, no doubt making a mental note to badger Roland about it later. Eyes full of mourning and mouth set in steel, Roland looks over to Myra, the Son with her sword pressed against the man’s neck, and gives her a curt nod. She returns the gesture, and after drawing a deep inhale, she rears the sword far back and up, ready to deliver the final blow. The man, surely sensing his impending death, at last lifts his head, and Roland lets out a swift, sharp whistle that cuts through the air like broken glass. It’s a command to stop, and Myra, knowing the sound of the pitch for what it is, obeys, lowering the sword non-threateningly as Roland stares at the face before him: a man roughly his age, with one brown eye, and one blue.

The baker’s son.

Dread washes Roland’s face a shade of white impossibly paler than before, and he makes a punched-out noise as he remembers hot summers and cold winters spent starving, the sickly feeling of tightness clenching a stomach unfed, the thick fatigue of near-death staved off by the baker’s son, who had been the first person in Tyrholm to teach Roland well-learned lessons of kindness, charity, compassion. The boy who, even in his youth, radiated the kind of warmth and generosity that Roland has never seen in men and women who have lived full lives. His first friend, if you can call breaking bread together and stealing water from Callia Lancaster’s well and playing card games and chasing each other around on the docks friendship.

Recognition spark’s in his once-maybe-friend’s eyes, and the sea-glass green of them shifts from hate, to grief, to nostalgia, and then, finally, to something that looks remarkably like…understanding. Understanding, even now, even on the brink of death. This, Roland thinks, is honor. This, Roland thinks, is what he has perhaps forgotten in his years in the King’s employ. Idly, he thinks JUDGMENT would like this man. His endless reservoir of kindness is something divine, something reminiscent of faith, something that JUDGMENT would take to with overwhelming fondness.

Roland draws forward and places his hand over Myra’s, which remains gripped tightly around the hilt of her sword, and pushes it down, a silent command to lay down her arms. It’s said that the one who passes the sentence should swing the sword, but in the business of sellswords, that’s hardly ever the case, and in Tyrholm, that’s never the case, for the King is far too cowardly to do his dirty work himself.

This, though… This responsibility belongs to Roland and Roland alone. It’s personal, not business, and he can feel the heavy weight of his duty in his pockets, where the King’s coin rests. Argos had always warned him of the looming dangers of this trade, the threat to one’s honor, one’s soul, one’s spirit. Are you worth your weight in gold? he’d often asked him. I will be, Roland had always answered, because he’d thought, then, that Argos had been asking him if he’d grossed a sum of gold equal to his weight. Now, he thinks, he at last understands the question: is it worth it? Have you earned your weight in gold? Is the man you are today worthy of that coin?

Gently, nearly tenderly, Roland cradles his hand against the side of the man’s face. The baker’s son doesn’t flinch. The irony isn’t lost on Roland: he must give back what he takes from this world twice over, and here he is, about to take the life of a man who gave him his. You should’ve let me starve, he wants to say. You should’ve let me die. He wants to apologize, he wants to explain himself, but he won’t do this good man the dishonor of wasting his last moments of life assuaging his own guilt, so he instead reaches into the pocket of his breeches and pulls out a pouch of gold. He tosses it to Galen, who catches it reflexively. “There’s a bakery in Lowtown south of the bay, with a red roof and green door. Bring it to them.” Galen raises an eyebrow in silent question, but he turns on his heel, exits the barn, and mounts his horse all the same. “You’re family will be looked after for generations,” he promises. He knows it won’t be enough to absolve the blood on his hands, not this time, but he hopes it’ll be enough to bring the man some peace of mind. He thinks maybe it does, because the baker’s son smiles. He dies smiling. Roland strikes quick and fast, drives his dagger straight through a heart of gold. It’s a quick, painless death that lasts the span of a few heartbeats, at most, and it stays with Roland for the remainder of all his years.

That night, when Roland lays his head down to sleep, he doesn’t dream.

EXTRAS

Pinterest. MBTI: ESTP. Astrology: Aries (April 19th). Moral Alignment: True Neutral. Enneagram Type: Type 8. Headcanons:

He isn’t best fighter in Tyrholm, but he may well be the most adaptive. In his boyhood, Argos taught him combat techniques that he’d observed in the east, and the west, and the north, and the south. Roland has killed men from all over the continent, from all walks of life, and though many balk at his nontraditional manner of bloodshed, he’s quick and efficient, and he and his Sons always get the job done. They say it’s uncouth, the way he fights, the weapons he uses, but The Fool’s etiquette (knighthood proper, that one) hasn’t exactly done them a whole lot of good, has it? Roland is as quick as lightning and twice as hot in a fight, and he’s been known to use exotic weapons when he’s doing his dirty work. Of all his tools, his favorites are his decade-old ivory dagger and a sickle-shaped pair of handheld scythes.

Roland doesn’t share the King’s low opinion of magic. Raised by Tyrholm’s streets, by whores and beggars magicians and street urchins and musicians and muses, Roland learned young to embrace all walks of life, and his schools of thought are all considerably flexible. His opinion of magi is no exception. People fear what they do not understand, and as a mercenary with a moral compass, a man who’s been misunderstand by the masses his entire life, he can empathize.

Because he was looked after by worshippers of the Undying in his boyhood, he’s considerably literate for a man of his…lifestyle, and he’s actually quite smart, despite appearances. He’s well-read and well-taught, but the true nature of his wherewithal is known only to Judgment and the Sons.

Roland and the Sons reside permanently in taverns in Lowtown, and impermanently in the barracks. Though the lot of them have more than enough coin to afford taverns in Hightown, Roland prefers to keep the company of Lowtowners, and he finds that he and his Sons fit in far better there than farther north. He supposes that the King is fond enough of him—or the work he does, at least—to allow Roland and the Sons to occupy Castle Tyrholm’s guest quarters, but Roland has never asked such a thing of Septimus, and he never will. When their services are needed, Roland and the Sons stay in the barracks alongside The Fool’s soldiers, partly because Roland wants the Sons to remember their humility, and partly because he wants to piss of The Fool. Whether in Lowtown taverns or the barracks, Roland sleeps right alongside his lieutenants and soldiers, intent on remembering his own humility, too.

Whistling. It’s how the Sons communicate without speaking, and it drives just about every resident of Castle Tyrholm mind-achingly mad. Their secret tongue was initially created as a way to signal one another for help, but since signing on to work for King Septimus, Roland will often whistle to deliver commands or messages to the Sons in order to keep confidential matters from reaching the ears of bystanders. Different pitches have different connotations, and more than one Castle Tyrholm has bellyached about the secret smiles and obnoxious laughter exchanged between the Sons when Roland lets out a low whistle after a meeting with the King or The Fool. Still, even the loudest critics of the Sons’ nonverbal lingo can’t deny the sheer impressiveness of the way the Sons fall in line with naught but a whistle rendered from their Captain.

Though looked after by Clerics and Emissaries for much of his early boyhood, Roland never quite took to faith the way his caretakers had hoped he might. But he’s taken to Judgment the way most people take to religion, like they’re something absolute, something worthy of his hard-won devotion, and he can’t help but feel like some of their lessons are beginning to rub off on him. He thinks the Emissary who took him in would faint if she could see him now, knelt quietly in the foremost pew of the Sanctum, hands clasped as he listens to Judgment’s sermon with a look on his face caught somewhere between reverence and admiration. Life comes full circle, he supposes, and he finds himself growing increasingly fascinated by the idea of the Undying, of goodness, of life’s purpose. He wants to learn more about it all, he thinks. Or maybe he just wants to learn more about Judgment.

[whydoifeelsoold]

Seeing iKON live for the first time: a reflection

So last Thursday and Saturday I saw iKON live for the first time, in Sydney and Melbourne respectively. Here are my thoughts. 

Random thoughts:

- Before the Sydney show I was nervous af. Honestly, I couldn’t eat, couldn’t concentrate on shit, I was trembling, I was alternating between rambling like a madwoman and sitting in silence staring into space. My poor sister thought I was losing it. Think Hanbin in On Hiatus when Bobby texts him he’s outside his house and wants to speak to him in chapter 4. I was THAT. 

- I was so nervous because I felt like there was SO much at stake. I’ve written sooo much about these boys (over 337,000 words?!), I’ve spent so much time (enjoyable time lol) wondering about them, hypothesising how they’d respond to different situations, basically doing full on character studies. I was so scared that I’d go to the concert and what if....I’d gotten them wrong, I’d totally misunderstood them...what if they weren’t quite like what I imagined. What would happen then?? Would I be disappointed in myself?? Disappointed by them?? That wouldn’t be fair to them at all because they are PEOPLE not CHARACTERS!! And I would be disappointed in myself about that too!! So anyway, long story short, I was terrified some kind of disappointment would be inevitable. 

- So of course I was nervous (bats aggressively swooping in my stomach) right up till when they finally appeared. However, I was amazed that instead of feeling awe, or surprise, or disbelief, when I saw them lined up about to begin Bling Bling, I just felt insanely happy. Like childishly, innocently, joyously happy.

- I was so thrilled by how good the vocal line sounded live. Their voices sound SO clear, strong and full of colour. It was amazing to FEEL their voices echo and project in the room. The sound was better in Sydney however, for some reason their voices were more muffled in Melbourne, not sure why. May have been to do with my location in Festival Hall. 

- I wish Sydney iKONICS were a bit more friendly to one another. I felt like a village idiot when I smiled at some people and they just looked at me with confused, dead eyes. Like come one guys, can’t we all bond over this incredible experience?! Can’t we kill time in the massive-ass queue by getting excited together (But Sydney is a catty city, so that didn’t surprise me too much tbh) ?!?!

- They were all SO so So sweet and very endearing. They were just...adorable. I felt so affectionate and proud of them. 

Now, about the Boys themselves:

- They were all INCREDIBLY handsome in real life. Even more handsome than on tv or in photoshoots. Like, I dunno what it is about seeing them in real life, but they were just really stunning. 

- In Sydney especially they were tired (but did a very noble job of pushing through). In particular Hanbin, and I felt a wave of concern for him when he was bent over puffed at one stage. Bobby and Donghyuk were up there hyping up the crowd with “WHO WANTS ANOTHER SONG” and poor Bin was just shaking his head laughing, trying to catch his breath. You could really tell he was ready for a good 15 hours of sleep. 

- In Melbourne they all seemed to be more rested, except maybe Bobby. He did his very best not to let on he was tired, (and don’t get me wrong, he still had plenty of energy) but he was a bit more reserved in Melbourne than in Sydney and struggled to get his words out more when speaking english. Every now and again he seemed a bit distracted in Melbourne, like maybe his concentration was off. 

- The one thing that DID blow my mind, was that ALL of them - but especially double b - were exactly as I had imagined and written them to be. As a writer, I’ve tried my best to interpret them as accurately as possible from the sources given to us: tv shows, performance recordings, the music, the survival shows, the interviews, the radio appearances, etc. etc. How this whole time I’ve also been acutely aware, that no matter how hard I try, how can I truly get a “vibe” from someone when I haven’t seen them in person. Seeing them live made everything make sense. 

- Bobby had this gorgeous, outward energy, just the way I imagined him to be. He was so sweet towards the boys, but also devilishly cheeky and when he got the chance. As for his interaction with the audience, you could really tell he wanted to give us a good performance, it was like he really wanted to give us a gift and for us to love it. You could really feel how lucky he felt to have us there screaming and singing along, how appreciative he was (like dude, no, thank YOU!! NOT US!!). In Melbourne a small smile he shared with Hanbin suggested that special connection which made my heart soar. They clearly have a very deep connection, whatever that may be. Overall I would describe him in real life as Generous and uplifting. 

- Han Fucking Bin, my ultimate bias. Oh god. I was blown away by how similar he is in real life to how I have imagined. He had this incredibly complex, fascinating energy riddled with paradoxes. He was eccentric yet very in tune with the crowd, dorky yet intimidating, reserved/shy but very sweet, rather dreamy and in his own world, yet always very in control, unassuming yet also proud and a bit aloof. Maybe aloof isn’t the right word...maybe detached? But I guess what I’m trying to say is that I think he has a very good poker face, it’s his professional/leader face. He takes his responsibility to deliver a good concert very seriously and so he doesn’t always look like he can “let himself go.” But at the same time, I really got a sense that underneath the poker face he was feeling a lot, thinking a lot. He was doing a lot of work, but keeping that to himself.. Finally, he struck me as someone who has made the brave commitment to be himself unapologetically, but he’s still learning who exactly he is. I’m really excited to how he turns out, but if my gut feeling is right, he will only continue developing as a person, he won’t just find himself and stop there. He is like a pokemon, there are going to be many evolutions for him and that’s EXACTLY why I love him so much. I would sum him up in real life as Sensitive and Inquiring. 

- Jinhwan was just as feisty, cheeky and cute coy as I imagined. He was in high spirits, and I think he’d impressed himself with his english skills so he was very confident on stage, he really knew how to work the crowd. I really got a sense of his love of attention. He was so charming, cute and willing to indulge the crowd. I didn’t see his mum-side but I’m glad about that because I feel like he doesn’t need to be in that mode when all the boys are having fun on stage, he can just focus on being his naughty, sexy self. I would summarise him as Playful and Engaging. 

- Donghyuk was a total darling and omg he looks soooo handsome in real life. I really got a sense of his attentiveness towards the fans, he really did his best to engage with us, asking questions, complimenting the city he was in, joking around, singing other songs whenever he got the chance. Diligent and Caring, that’s DK in a nutshell. 

- June!!! So June was like Chanwoo and Yun, they kinda let the other boys take the floor and lead the show. Totally fair enough. I can’t begin to imagine how vulnerable one must feel when you have no idea wtf the being said and you’re up there on stage with everyone watching. Two things with June. One, I could NOT believe how dramatically handsome he was in real life. Like, his raven-black “comma-styled” hair, the way it contrasted so boldly with his pale skin, his muscular tallness, the way his white t-shirt hung off his frame so casually yet perfectly, his striking brows, strong profile and chiseled jawline...like, he was GODLY.  Out of this world. From another universe. He was stunning. In terms of the vibe he gave me in real life: Cool and eccentric. 

- Yun!!! Bless him!!! I really just wanted to hear more from him...although i totally get why he didn’t have the means to express himself more. But what he couldn’t communicate through words he really poured into his singing and interaction with the fans. I was really impressed by his voice live, he has such a nice warm tone. And he really put heart into his lines and high notes. His showmanship was very impressive. I would summarise him as heartfelt and emotive. 

- Chanwoo was SO SO gorgeous in real life. Even from where I stood at the back his eyes stood out so well. He was reserved but not lacking in confidence, he was shy but also very sincere and sweet. His vocals were brief but his husky tone is awesome. I would summarise him as observant and alert. 

- Overall Seeing them was really amazing, it was such a positive experience. All I feel now is the bittersweetness of it all. Before I didn’t know what it was like to miss them, that wasn’t something I had to deal with being a distant aussie fan. But now I’ve seen them twice in three days, I now know what that is like to be in their presence. And honestly, I miss them so much already. my heart feels bruised. Laaaaaaaame. 

p.s. @mvssmallow I hope you have regained hearing in your left ear. I’m sorry I yelled so loud and so consistently throughout the ENTIRE show. You’re a legend for putting up with my drunken nerves. 

@notsolonelyinthisworld @drinkyourjuicejinhwan @jennicullen @gurrchoo @runsoftbin

[illogicalshockwave]

Sweets for the stressed

A gift ficlet for @noblestdecepticon because we both have been going through some rough patches with stress lately.

The security systems in Shockwave’s lab were nothing less than admirable. By the time Megatron reached the room where Shockwave was usually taking visitors his trained optic had spotted several security measures, everything from scanners to automated turrets which tracked movement based on what he guessed was heat signatures. Luckily, the leader of the Decepticons was awaited and so none of these measures were used on him- thank Primus for that.

The sensor above the door scanned the 18-meter tall frame and the blast (reinforced, he noted with passing awe) doors slid open quietly revealing the room. The scientist was already there, standing with a datapad in servo and raising his helm to look at Megatron as the gladiator entered with a like perk of his finials; the only indication of immediate emotion shown. The sight of that single, cracked crimson optic may have been unnerving for some, but the Decepticon grew to find comfort in it’s glow. Provided Shockwave was in a good mood, of course.

“Greetings Shockwave,” Megatron addressed the scientist in question, a small yet genuine smile appearing on his faceplate upon finally meeting the one whom he had been talking to back and forth between comms for months now. The mech was feeling exceedingly stressed out as of late, but despite this he was still happy to see Shockwave - even if the scientist called him here to discuss some sort of important business. It seemed like ‘important business’ was all around Megatron these days, suffocating in its abundance. He suppressed a vent at the thought, trying to perk up his wings as the mech was greeted back by Shockwave.

“Megatron,” the tone was affectionate, warm even despite how official it may of sounded to others, reaching out to shake hands once the data pad had been set aside and pull them into a firm hug. He was very familiar with Megatron’s inclination towards such actions and was more than happy to engage in such if it let them de-stress. “It has been a long time coming to this moment,” the gladiator beamed at the action, lingering just a little longer before standing in arms reach. Already it felt good to be away from his normal station and spending some time here, however long it might be. “Indeed it has. It is good to see you face to face, even if it is under such dire circumstance.”

A somber look crossed Megatron’s features, arm placed previously on Shockwave’s shoulder slipping off to instead rest to its neutral position of by his side. “Ah, yes… Addressing it so soon? Though I suppose the sooner the better. Negative things seem to dog the universe day and night it seems…” The small vent was not missed by Shockwave, his own wings (despite being a grounder) flicking in displeasure at their comment. “Is the situation really so dire?”

A pause in the conversation suggested it was, causing Shockwave to internally frown. Perhaps after this meeting he would aid them more, supplies, crew members… He wasn’t short handed in anything, really. Since his original Megatron had abandoned him, he had gathered resources to the point that if Cybertron was what it had once been, the scientist was wealthy enough to rival even the more important nobles.

“...It is. The situation could really use more mechs like-” Megatron paused, cutting himself off. “More mechs. Our lines are always so thin even before the war began and well, the troops are always low on morale despite my best efforts.” His dermas were pressed into a thin line, trying to remain hopeful but those wings were so drooped the tips nearly reached the floor. A sad sight, and one Shockwave hoped to fix. “I may be able to assist you there, but that isn’t what I called you here for. I called you here for the dire situation that is your health state.”

At the start of the scientist’s reply, Megatron was almost ready to ask if he was in any danger, if Shockwave needed something, if Megatron could somehow help with whatever problem he had encountered - it was instinctive, the gladiator always was one to want to protect the ones he considered to be close allies, friends. So when Shockwave brought up the subject of Megatron’s health, the Decepticon leader was momentarily thrown off, optics wide and vocalizer silent as his processor caught up.

“My health state?” the mech repeated, dermas slightly agape for a moment, surprised optics focused on his host. Shockwave called him here because he was worried about his health. This was, well- “That is very kind of you, Shockwave,” a wider, warmer smile graced Megatron’s lips, even his shoulders broadening a bit as he looked at the scientist with appreciation. Shockwave may have been right, but there was still so much to do, so many bots that required his help, so many issues that needed solving. Even with depriving himself of recharge to the point where he would only rest when his forced recharge protocols kicked in, he still couldn’t quite keep up with everything - and the thought alone was making Megatron wonder if he should maybe ask Shockwave for a way to fool those pesky protocols and let him be more efficient. Then again, by the looks of it, Shockwave wouldn’t be happy if the gladiator asked that now.

Instead, Megatron decided to try and disperse the mech’s worries. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but I assure you that I’m fine,” the Decepticon commander smiled a smile that was almost convincing, feeling like some sort of beast was dragging its claws along his ember. Lying was not something he was very fond of, but he had things to do - and those things did not include making Shockwave worry.

Only Shockwave saw right through the entire facade. Megatron’s entire frame was tense to the point it looked like his spinal strut ached from working for too long, limbs subtly shaking and wings barely able to keep themselves up. The regular vivid brightness of his optics had dulled to the point it looked like they were barely online anymore and in the background Shockwave was nervously checking that they weren’t going to offline at any second. Signs like that were shown regularly on mechs who hadn’t refueled in at least 2 days and for frames such as themselves it was dangerous to go more than a day. Neither one of them had smaller builds and fuel consumption was stupidly high, something which could be cut down with tactful methods but the scientist doubted he had even touched a cube since his last recharge whenever that was.

“Negative. You are not ‘fine’. You are stressed, worn down and barely able to stand without swaying. You need fuel and recharge, recovery from your work before you can return. When you are in a better state, I can offer my assistance but as of this moment, you are not fit for duty and are neglecting your position as a Prime.” A slight low blow to the subconscious there but as of this moment he needed a harsh reminder and a hint of some tough love.

The moment the statements had registered Megatron’s whole demeanour slipped away, gravity seeming to increase on his build alone and force his previously tense struts to wilt and bend, posture changing to alert to exhausted in a matter of seconds. “I… Yes. You are right, Shockwave…” He sounded incredibly defeated to be caught out on his own lie but he didn’t defend himself, letting the scientist lead him towards somewhere blindly and quietly enjoying the gentle care this mech showed to him so freely. How little he let himself indulge in such a thing, with so much that had gone on.

Before Megatron knew it he had been guided to a guest habsuite further up on the ship, a reasonably sized cube pressed into his digits and his favourite sweets to follow once he was done- Vossian grade crystals. Such a rarity that very few knew how to make them now but leave it to the mysterious scientist to have an entire bowl full of them ready for his consumption. He had only tried them twice in his life, but each time had been a memory to savour- so the sight before him right now had the leader pausing to look at the mech, now urging him to sit down on the guest berth and fuel. “These… For me?”

Shockwave nodded, optic focused on on Megatron as if to make sure that the gladiator would behave. I really am being somewhat stubborn, aren’t I?’ Megatron thought to himself- Shockwave was right, in the state he was currently in he was dangerously close to being more of a hindrance than a help to his comrades. Good thing he had someone looking out for him. Especially since it was Shockwave.

“I am very tempted to ask how you came to know the recipe for these. The scientist in me wants to ask how many attempts it took to make them turn out right,” Megatron let a soft laugh escaped him, his optics lowering back to look at the crystals. “Thank you, Shockwave.” Reaching out, the mech took a crystal, looking over it for just a moment before his curiosity was overpowered by the growing realization of how starving he actually was. Quickly, he put the crystal into his intake, trying to suppress the satisfied sound he ended up making upon tasting it. It was good.

“This is delicious,” Megatron said, optics shining with appreciation as he look at the scientist. “You have a talent, truly.” With that statement, another cube disappeared behind the gladiator’s dermas. It was nice to see them finally consuming something after such a worrying moment that Shockwave thought he might deny such things, sitting with them he let them enjoy their fuel and crystals before speaking up quietly, as to not disturb them. “...It took some investigating, I will admit,” the grounder coughed, trying not to let on just how deeply he had looked into the treat when mentioned in a conversation weeks ago. Soundwave had been kind enough to assist him, but it had taken a considerable effort on his part to actually make the crystals form in just the right way and still taste good. He decided not to detail the process to the Decepticon leader, choosing instead to gently remind them to not eat too many so fast lest they cause hyperactivity.

When Megatron was done fuelling their fatigue hit them full force, eyes cast to the berth not far away from the table they had been seated at until now. Shockwave seemed to get the hint, and assisted the Prime with an arm around theirs. They almost collapsed into the sheets, Megatron rolling onto his side with ease to avoid a bent wing or discomfort on his back. The urge to touch was far too tempting however, asking permission to touch before reaching out with gentle digits.

The response was a quiet “...mmmh? You want to touch ‘m wings?” A soft flutter of the appendages was made, the metallic plating gleaming in the dim overhead lights before he nodded. “I don’t see why not. Just avoid the tips… They’re sensitive…”

A careful, experimental touch from Shockwave made Megatron’s wings flutter just a bit out of instinct. Throwing an already somewhat sleepy glance back at the scientist, the exhausted mech smiled apologetically. “It is fine. It has just...been awhile since anyone touched them.” The purple-framed mech seemed to understand, nodding slowly as reached out once more. The sensation of a steady, gentle servo slowly petting his wing made the gladiator cycle a vent, closing his optics as the touches continued. Steady and efficient - just like Shockwave himself - these touches slowly but surely began affecting Megatron in the most wonderful of ways, his frame relaxing and his wings humming in pleasure as they were given attention. He thought he heard Shockwave ask something, and he mumbled a quiet request for the scientist to repeat himself. At least, thought he mumbled - at this point, he might have just made a noise that hopefully carried the meaning over.

Apparently, Shockwave asked if everything was alright. At that, the gladiator couldn’t help but laugh sleepily. “It is, my friend. More than alright even. I would have to think of a way to repay you for this later,” Megatron’s voice quietly rumbled, a small content smile playing on his dermas as he enjoyed the relaxing touches. Predicting what the mech beside him would say, the Decepticon leader gathered his willpower once more, finding the strength to speak again despite his frame being so very close to falling into recharge at this point. “I will accept no ‘Not needed’ stuff, Shockwave, I really do...appreciate..this.” The last of Megatron’s words were soft, and he hoped that Shockwave caught them despite that. He thought he heard the scientist’s pleasant voice humm something, but that was when Megatron finally fell into recharge, content to stay in the care of a mech and good friend he trusted.

The lights were turned off as he left, content that the Decepticon leader would be in recharge for at least a good 15 hours after his previous refusal to rest. Either way, the scientist let them rest, content to get some rest himself. They would speak again tomorrow when the cycle began

[best-left-hook-jones]

It Is Not Yet Evening (9/?)

Summary: Historical AU. It is 1917, and with the Russian empire on the verge of collapse, Emma - a former maid for the Imperial family - means to escape the imminent revolution and start a new life in London. Desperately fleeing the Bolsheviks and armed with fake documents and a new identity, she sets out to find the mysterious man with the power to grant her her freedom. But the road to Moscow is a treacherous one, and a chance encounter with a wealthy British businessman may change her life forever.

Words: 39,131

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

16 km South of Tver; March 15th, 1917. 6:22am.

Whatever explanation Killian had expected to leave her mouth, it was not that.

A palace maid.

It was absurd, it had to be. But then again, it explained everything. The strict propriety, her proficiency for languages, the lack of wonder at even the most lavish of delicacies. Although it was difficult for him to imagine the gorgeous blond in front of him as a wallflower in a room full of elites, it just made sense.

When Emma had finished her tale, she had sat back and waited, stone still as though she was waiting for a flurry of questions or, worse, accusations. But there was only one fundamental fact that didn’t seem to add up in Killian’s mind.

“Why are you going to Moscow, then?” He asked, rubbing the scruff of his cheek with one hand. “The British Consul is in Petrograd.”

“It is also now the seat of the provisional government. The Tsar has abdicated and I am certain that there will be spies everywhere now. No, we cannot meet there. It is too dangerous.”

“But surely the new government would allow you to leave Russia,” he reasoned. With the Tsar’s sudden abdication and the by-proxy abdication of the young tsarevich, Killian was sure that there would be a mad scramble for power. The opposition party would surely want to reserve a foothold for themselves and declare themselves the leaders of the new government, but they would be hard pressed to stave off the growing disquiet by the Bolsheviks. Surely they would be too busy reining in the spoils to care much about the goings and comings of the minor players.

Emma’s face turned sour, her nose crinkling in disgust.

“Alexander Kerensky has no love for the Imperial family. I do not believe he will protect us. He has no power, no support from the people. They will be too busy running around with their heads cut off, trying to fulfill the wishes of the people. Kerensky knows that he will need their support. And I fear they will do anything to get it, even if it means arresting the entire palace.”  

“You have met Kerensky?” The former vice-chairman of the Petrograd Soviets and newly elected Minister of Justice may not have been the leader of the opposition, but he was still a well respected player within the provisional government. Jefferson had said as much in one the letters he had penned shortly after the February riots that had nearly torn Petrograd apart.

“Yes. Well, not really,” she admitted. “I saw him on occasion when he came to visit the palace. He twists words and he spreads despicable lies about the Tsar and his family. They praise him because he dares call the imperial ministers ‘cowards’ to their faces. I believe that he is a silver tongued lawyer who enjoys inciting hatred against the monarchy, nothing more.”

“Duly noted. I suppose we will need your expertise if we are to get you to Moscow safely.”

“You believe me, then?” She sounded surprised.

“Of course,” he shrugged. “I cannot imagine anyone feigning to be an Imperial supporter in these times. A a socialist or even a Bolshevik, perhaps, but not an Imperialist.”

Emma’s relief was nearly palpable. She let out a long breath and sank back into the cushions of her seat. He hadn’t realized how much her secret must have been weighing on her. Even with the late hour she appeared less exhausted, the deeps lines on her face lessening.

“What will we do now?” She asked, whether to herself or to him, he did not know.

“I suggest we proceed as normal. I will help you, you will help me. I am sure that if we work together we will make it to Moscow relatively unscathed.”

She nodded in agreement. Stick to the plan.

“But,” he added quickly, “No more lies, if you will. I would very much appreciate knowing exact what I am dealing with going forward.”        

She hesitated for a moment before nodding again. Killian was not naive enough to think that he had felled her walls with that promise, but he hoped that even if she was still reluctant to share her story with him, the parts she chose to share would be true. At least he had that, Killian thought.

He watched her move her slender fingers closer to the lamp, seeking out the warmth there. The open train doors had let all of the accumulated heat escape into the night, and the train car felt frigid in the morning air that had snuck in. She had redressed into her coat after the officers had left, but the chill appeared to be bothering her still. If he hadn’t been so confident that she would refuse his offer, he would have handed over his own coat while she warmed.  

“Let us start with your name, perhaps,” he suggested, hoping to learn more about the company he was keeping. “That was a lie as well, I take it?”

“Only partially,” she confessed. ‘Emma’ is not a lie, but I am afraid I was not as truthful about my last name.”

Killian nodded, understanding. He knew the necessity for the switch, and though he had had doubts about her identity even early on, he couldn’t deny that it hurt to have his suspicions confirmed. A lie was a lie, any way you sliced it.

“What is it really?” He asked, feeling the urge to know.

“Lebedeva.”

“Lay-bay-day-va?”

A small, affectionate grin grew on her face at his mispronunciation.  

“No, Lyeh-byeh-dyeh-va .”

“Leh-beh-deh-va?”

For as much as he tried, the syllables simply did not roll off of his tongue in the graceful ways hers did. Emma laughed, a beautiful light sound that filled his heart with warmth.

“You are close enough, I suppose.”

“I apologize,” he chuckled. “It is a beautiful name.”

“Thank you. It was my mother’s.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, remembering the story she had told him about her father’s name. Emma laughed.

“The story I told you about my father was true - well, at least in part. His last name is Nolan, but my mother was adamant than any child of her’s would have a strong Russian last name, like her own. It was not traditional, but come to think of it, they never were ones to follow tradition.”  

“Does it mean something?“ He watched her eyebrows rise in surprise and felt his hand move automatically to scratch behind his ear. “I - er - was told that sometimes Russian surnames have meaning.”

She looked impressed. “Very knowledgeable of you. And yes, it does. It comes from the word Lebed , meaning ‘swan’.”

Killian couldn’t help the affectionate smile that grew on his face. Swan. “Quite fitting, I believe.”  

Emma blushed at the compliment. It astounded him how a woman who could stand toe to toe with a Russian Imperial officer could become so flustered at the barest of compliments.

He changed the topic to ease her embarrassment.

“Who were the guards looking for, if not you?”

“I do not know,” she admitted with a frustrated sigh. “The Bolsheviks have been growing in number. It could be any one of the insurgents .” She spat out the word, disdain clear in her voice.

“I suppose I should not be surprised at your dislike for them.” Killian bowed his head slightly as he considered his next words. “From what I have seen, perhaps a bit of insurgency is called for. Perhaps it is time for a change in Russia.”

“I assure you, Killian Jones. No good will come of this.”  

“ Killian ,” he reminded her. “And the Tsar must have thought so, or else he would not have stepped down.”

Emma’s expression suddenly went dark. “The Bolsheviks are terrorists ! They thrive off of bloodshed and chaos. That is what Lenin wants with his slanderous writings. He does not speak for true Russians, he only speaks for himself.”

“The people seem to think that he does speak for them.”

“ My people,” she stressed, “are being fooled. They are being led by the nose into a war that will only bring ruin to us all. You cannot possibly think that this coming war is justified.”

“Some wars are fought by brave men who only want what is right for themselves and their families. I believe that is quite honourable.”  

“Why are you not out there fighting for your country?” She asked then, accusation and venom lacing her tone. “Your own country is at war with the German empire. Is that not a noble battle as well?”

Killian felt all of the blood drain from his face. She was encroaching dangerously close to lines that he did not wish to cross, for both of their sakes.  

“I cannot.”

“And why not?” She pressed, sensing an opening. “Are you afraid of what might happen to your wealth if you perish? Or is it simply that you do not believe it is your business what happens to those that do not line your pocket with money?”

Her anger was only growing, her eyes flashing. He wanted to be upset at the quick judgement that she had made of him and the scathing review she had made of his character, but all he felt was shame. It was the same sorrow that arose every time he was confronted with a reminder of his failures. She couldn’t have known, and as it appeared to be a night of revelations, he began to roll up his sleeve.

He heard Emma’s gasp before he had entirely removed the leather black glove from the wooden hand that protruded from where his left wrist should have been.

He did not need to see her face to sense her shock, her entire body going tense across from him, whether in disgust or fear he did not know. Neither were particularly appealing thoughts.

When he did meet her eyes, he was not surprised to see shame there as well. Any moment now she would awaken from her shock and the apologies would begin, just as they always did when people learned to truth. Killian had never quite been able to discern the reason for the apologies - it wasn't as though they had cut it off themselves - but the words did seem to bring them a certain kind of comfort so he had gracefully accepted them. The other person would always settle after that, content and proud at themselves for being so accepting of someone they considered damaged and beneath them. The irony was almost laughable.

“I am truly sorry.”

Killian sighed. And so it began.

“No need, love, you did not know.”

Emma shook her head. “No, I lost my temper with you and I questioned your honour. You saved me and I…” She trailed off, frustration and embarrassment colouring her face.

“Yes, I suppose it was bad form,” he shrugged, hoping to put the poor girl out of her misery. “I will not hold it against you, however.”

He rolled his sleeve back down to cover the edge of the wooden hand, yanking the leather glove back over the stiff fingers. It wasn’t that he was particularly ashamed of his missing limb, but the cover did held stave off unwanted questions and pitying looks.

The leather straps seemed to become more stiff as he let his mind wander to that day. He moved his right hand over where the thickest strap dug uncomfortably into his tricep, massaging soothing circles over the spot.

“Does it hurt terribly?” Her voice was still quiet, her own rudeness not yet forgotten.

He frowned, realizing that she must have caught a glimpse of the pain medicine in his bag. Though it was in the past and he had forgiven her for her snooping, Killian wished again in that moment that she had let it be.

“The wound, not so much. The doctors say the pain from that cannot be real, that it is too old. However the brace is an entirely different matter.”

Emma nodded her head as though she understood. She didn’t ask further about the brace or his injury, for which he was grateful, but then again it was likely that she simply had no idea what to say.

They sat in companionable silence as he rubbed his brace, the rough leather softening under the warmth of his worn and calloused fingers. Though he hadn’t performed any manual labour for years now, the battered skin had never seemed to fully heal. At this point, he doubted they ever would.

It was strange to think that Emma’s life had been so different from his own. The life she was accustomed was one of grandeur and elegance, yet she shared the same callouses and marks of hard word as he did. Although he knew very little about her childhood, she appeared to have worked at the palace for many years now, if her wealth of knowledge was any indication. He wondered what it would have been like, to live within the inner circle of royalty without ever having to don a title or address a nation. To be privy to secrets that the outside world would never get to know and to be a wallflower in a room in which the future of a nation could be decided.

Killian thought of Buckingham Palace back home, from which his own King had stood and addressed the Mall. Was there an Emma standing behind that family as well? One with fair hair and eyes the colour of sea glass? Did she fear for her safety every time a German plane flew overhead? Killian had never looked upon the Royal family with any much favour, but for once he felt a pang of sorrow for the brave persons who stood at their side. They would continue to scrub, polish, and hold their heads high, even as they handed telegraphs detailing death and destruction to their masters.

Even without her ties to the Imperial family, the coming revolution would not be kind to those that opposed the change, and Killian couldn’t deny that he feared for Emma’s safety. She would not go down without a fight - he could see that already. He even admired it. But it did not change the fact that her best chance was the exit papers, to reach a safe haven in Britain. King George V was a reasonable ruler, albeit a tough man. He would never leave his kin to suffer at the hands of the revolutionists. Still, Killian Jones did not like to leave things to chance, and the risk unnerved him.

He sighed. It was late - or, very early, rather - and Killian could feel the weight of the day on him now. They had met, fought, nearly been arrested by Imperial Officers, and shared secret aliases all since the day had begun, and he was drained. He expected that Emma felt it as well, the dark circles under her eyes resembling bruises in the harsh light of the lamp.

“You should sleep.”

“After everything that has transpired tonight, I do not believe I will be able to sleep for a week,” she admitted halfheartedly. “Besides, there is always the chance that the guards will change their mind, or that they will have the papers for my arrest awaiting at the next station. I think I ought to stay up for that.”

Of course she would be wary of that, and despite his own optimism that the guards had bought their story, Killian was still admittedly hesitant to drift off to sleep when there remained so much that could still go wrong.

“How about we make a deal, then?”

“Another?” She asked, nearly groaning.

“Humour me,” he urged, shrugging. “I propose we take shifts. I will take the first watch, and in a few hours I will wake you and I will rest. How does that sound?”

“Well,” she started slowly, something teasing about her tone. “I suppose I could take your proposal into consideration. Do you not have any varenye for me this time?”

Killian laughed, pleased that - at least for the moment - she did not appear to be turning down his offer. “I am afraid I am clean out. Perhaps tomorrow?”

Emma pretended to consider it, before nodding her head. “Agreed.”

The pair moved back into their respective places, as though the past few hours had never happened. Emma offered to leave the lamp burning so as to give him some light by which to read, but he declined. He could tell by the way the blond nearly flinched at every jitter of the train that she was unaccustomed to travelling and that she would likely rest better without the light. He watched as she removed her shoes once more, her long legs curling under her long skirt as she braced herself against the window, her shawl draped over her shoulders.

She settled into her makeshift nest, the last of the tension leaving her body as she laid her head against the side. They made eye contact for only a moment, and Killian almost thought she was about to say something. But a moment later they were closed, and Killian reached forward to dim the lamp. The cabin immediately plunged into darkness, Emma’s silhouette disappearing into the shadows around them. It was almost unnerving to be so close, yet feel so far away from her. But the door to the small cabin was locked tight, and the gradual heaviness of her soft breathing as she fell deeper into sleep let him know that she was still with him. That she was safe. And so Killian tugged his jacket further around him and settled in for the first watch of the night.

He let his mind wander over Emma’s story as he sat in the pitch darkness, trying to come to terms with everything she had told him. He had to admit that he found himself almost relieved at her confession. Not only because Emma appeared to be guilty only by association with unfavourable royalty - although, admittedly, he was not entirely sure what his reaction would have been if she had turned out to be a thief or a murderess -  but because with it came a further understanding of his own intentions. It had been difficult to reconcile his feelings for her after their dinner together. He had been left confused, frazzled, and torn, unable to determine why he seemed so drawn to her. But he it understood now.

It was a sign.

It had to be.

He knew that he had been rubbing at his tattoo on and off ever since she had told him the truth, but he could sense it. He could feel her presence in the air around him, in the ink of his tattoo.

Milah .

He smiled to himself. Of course she would be watching over him. She always would be, no matter how far he strayed. He could almost see her smile, remember the exact shade her eyes had appeared in the sunlight of their small home. Stop staring, my love. You will wear out your eyes,Milah had teased. But he hadn’t been able to stop, and instead he had pounced, placing a kiss to her cheek as she had pretended to bat him away. You are very lucky that you are as handsome as you are, Mr. Jones, or else a lady might take offence to such sneaky maneuvers. But she had returned his kisses with equal passion and they had fallen into bed together not long after that. Yes, he had been very lucky. Milah had always seen the best in him, had always believed in him even when he hadn't been able to.

It only made sense for her to be with him now, during a time of crisis. Milah had found a lost soul, so much like his own had been when she had found him all those years ago, and had guided him to her. That was what the attraction had been, the unwavering belief that he needed to find the blond haired angel. It was never romantic feelings, as such, it was a message, clear as day.  

Perhaps he could save this one.

And he would. By God, he would, if it was the last thing he would ever do. Killian Jones had let so very many people down in his life, and now he was being given the opportunity to set things right. He could never fully undo every mistake he had made, but perhaps he could do enough. The nerves jittered underneath his skin and he was nearly giddy at the thought of it. Repentance . He would make sure she made her meeting with whatever mysterious man she was meant to meet and would not leave her side until she was safely with her papers.

He wanted to burst he felt so relieved. He wanted to tell her everything in that moment, let her share in his epiphany, but he knew that he couldn’t. Emma would surely be spooked at the mere notion that this was anything other than a business transaction, just as she had any other occasion that he had broken boundaries. But it mattered not. He knew, and Killian Jones was in it for the long haul. Emma would be a challenge, he was sure, but he could be patient.

Just as Milah had been patient with him.

Feeling satisfied with his renewed sense of purpose, he readjusted himself on the creaky leather seat and waited for the sun to rise.

“Sleep well, Miss Swan.”

[angstbotfic]

Fic: Ak’tephari Prophecy Ch 69

Read at AO3

Marnan custom was that at the Joining feast the happy couple would sit at a table at the front of the hall and their guests would come up to give their gifts as the feeling struck them.

Emma was not at all surprised that Snow was the first. She had been almost vibrating with excitement ever since she heard that Emma was going to be married, and she positively beamed as she handed over a small, cloth-wrapped parcel.

“I’m so very, very happy for you,” she said, teary-eyed and almost squeaking.

Regina smiled politely and unwrapped the gift to find a beautiful little lacy baby outfit. “Oh how lovely,” she said, and Emma knew only she could tell she was faking.

“I made it myself. You two just love each other so much I think you’re going to want to have a child to share all that love with!” Snow explained. Henry hadn’t decided whether he wanted to be named heir, so while the king and queen knew he was Emma and Regina’s child, no one else did yet.

But Snow was so sincere that Emma had to rise and hug her. “Thank you, Snow, it’s very kind and it means a lot to me.”

The way Snow hugged her so tightly she could barely breathe made Emma regret the decision immediately.

**

There was a long string of Marnan nobles after that, bringing all kinds of finery that Emma had no idea what to do with, so she just smiled and thanked them all politely but mostly let Regina do the talking. Then David came by. Emma stood up immediately at his approach.

“Emma, I’m not your boss anymore,” he pointed out. “In fact, now you’re kind of mine.”

She blushed. “Habit,” she explained. She stepped forward to shake his hand.

“Congratulations,” he said, then emphasized, “to both of you. I know that I wasn’t the most sympathetic to your relationship-”

“You were doing your job, Captain,” Regina said firmly, and Emma nodded vigorously.

“I still feel like I could’ve-”

“For all any of us knew, this day was never going to happen,” Emma insisted. “You could’ve been a little nicer about it,” she teased, “but you did what you thought was right.”

“Alright,” he conceded. Then he handed her his gift.

Emma unwrapped a beautiful dagger, made of the finest steel with a jeweled handle and sheath.

“David, this must have cost a fortune,” Emma said, a little disapproving.

“It needed to be fit for royalty,” he said, waving off the question. “Ruby for health and sapphire for happiness.”

“It’s beautiful,” Regina said before Emma could protest more, her manners impeccable as always. “Thank you.”

**

“Henry, I know you’re not trying to give us a gift,” Emma said. She was sharper than she meant to be, still feeling uneasy after David’s generosity.

“Emma,” Regina chided. “Don’t be ungrateful.”

“But he’s our-” she gestured vaguely.

“And it’s because you’re my,” Henry said, mimicking her motion sassily, “that I want to celebrate your joining.”

“Alright,” Emma grumbled. “But it better not be expensive.”

“You’re impossible,” Regina chuckled, smacking her arm lightly. “What do you have for us, my dear Henry?”

He smiled and held up a whetstone, and Emma burst out laughing, her disapproval forgotten.

“What?” Regina demanded.

“Henry and I first became good friends, and I first realized how very special he was, when he helped me get a new whetstone. It’s a wonderful gift,” Emma said, standing and hugging him tight.

**

“There you are, darlings!” a voice exclaimed, and they turned to see the Lady Cruella, who apparently had lost track of them despite their prominent place in the room.

“Hello, Cousin,” Regina greeted politely. “I trust you’re well?”

“To be frank, it’s just ghastly. The bartender cut me off!”

Emma bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Regina murmured an appropriately concerned “Oh I’m so sorry to hear that” as if she hadn’t been the one who gave the instructions to keep people from getting out of hand.

“Fortunately, I always come prepared,” she said, pulling a flask from somewhere inside her fur cape. “And that is what every good marriage needs,” she went on, putting the first flask back and pulling out a second one. “So here! May you always have good cheer wherever you go!” she said as she handed it over. Emma did not fail to notice that it sloshed as if she’d filled it, but was only half full.

It was also elegant and beautifully engraved, and she and Regina made appropriate appreciative noises.

“Yes, good, of course it’s exactly what you wanted,” Cruella said. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go find my husband. Joinings always make one randy, don’t they?”

They were spared the need to answer when she left without waiting to hear it.

**

When Emma saw her whole patrol worth of soldiers approaching, she murmured to Regina, “Now can I object about people spending too much money on me?”

“No.”

“Fine,” she hissed, then said to the men as they arrived, “Guys, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Sure we did, sir,” Leroy said. “You’re the best leader any of us have ever had, and we also feel like we had a hand in helping this day happen on account of helping you save the world.”

“Which is enough of a gift,” Emma said, then subsided when Regina elbowed her.

“You sure?” Javier asked with a grin, stepping aside to show that the men behind him were carrying a finely tooled new saddle.

Emma was touched. “Guys, it’s beautiful, but it’s too much.”

“Not when it’s split this many ways,” Billy pointed out, smiling. “Please, let us give it to you.”

“Don’t think this will make me go easy on you,” Emma growled, and then hugged every single one of them.

**

The last person Emma expected to see approaching them was Mulan.

“Sir,” she said in greeting, holding out a bundle.

“Thank you,” Emma said, equally stiff. Unwrapping it, she saw an exquisitely delicate wood carving. Looking closer, she saw that it was the perfect likeness of Bug and Rigby, leaning against each other affectionately. Startled, she looked up.

“I wasn’t the nicest to you when you came here, sir,” Mulan said. “I resented that they hired you instead of promoting me, and I tried to make things hard on you because I thought you didn’t deserve it. But I’ve come to realize that I was wrong and you’re brave and honorable, and I wanted to apologize for my behavior.”

Emma was speechless, but Regina came to her rescue. “It’s beautiful, Sergeant. Thank you.”

Emma managed to put out her hand, and Mulan shook it warmly as their eyes met and they nodded in understanding.

**

After that, there had been a long string of Regina’s royal cousins giving them silver dishes and jeweled brooches and all kinds of things they had absolutely no use for, and Emma was even more thrilled to see Merlin and Marian coming toward them than she would normally be.

“I’m so glad that you could make the journey,” Regina said to Marian, rising to hug her tightly.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Marian replied as they parted. “No pun intended,” she added, and they all chuckled.

Emma was next, and hugging Marian always felt like coming home. Marian held her through a long, slow breath, and then pulled back and held her by the arms, looking at her with love and pride. “Ikeh,” she said. “My child. I am so very happy for you.”

“Thank you, tika,” she murmured.

Merlin hugged her next, and Emma started to feel a little sad realizing that he would leave when Marian did, and she’d lose the closest thing she had to a family all over again.

“I know that face,” Marian said.

“What face?” Emma said, though she knew she was caught.

Marian just raised an eyebrow and handed her their gift. “Fortunately, we have just the solution.”

Unwrapping it carefully, Emma found a beautiful leather-bound book with blank pages. She looked at them in confusion.

“A Book of Days, to keep all your memories of your life together,” Merlin explained.

“It’s an old Ilmenean tradition that I think is good to revive,” Marian added. “With a little something extra.”

“Extra?” Regina asked.

“It’s magical. So, when you write down your happy memories, it will also appear in the copy we have back in Lukmán,” Merlin said.

Marian winked. “And we can comment in the margins about how happy we are for you.”

“It’s wonderful,” Emma said, her voice cracking.

**

“Lady Regina, Lady Emma.” Emma was startled to look up and see Maleficent inclining her head in as much as a bow as she would give.

“I’m not much of a lady,” Emma answered, smiling because she knew that she was playing with her.

“No indeed.” Maleficent’s mouth quirked a bit. Holding up a small bag, she added, “I bring a gift for your union, if I may.”

“Thank you,” Regina said, and then her eyes widened slightly as Maleficent pulled a wooden box far larger than the bag from it.

Then, handing the box to Emma, Maleficent quirked an expectant eyebrow.

Emma opened it and turned six or seven shades of red in succession before snapping it shut.

“It’s enchanted, of course,” Maleficent explained, as if Emma wasn’t struck dumb.

“Enchanted?” Regina asked eagerly, having caught a glimpse.

“Not like that one. You can produce an heir.” Maleficent smirked. "There are instructions, but in the event you can't figure it out you can always give me a call. Or if you just want to have a visit." Then she winked and sauntered off as if she knew Emma’s eyes were glued to her ass.

Emma caught herself and turned guiltily to Regina, only to find her doing the same thing. They chuckled, and then kissed.

“Soon,” Regina murmured against her lips. “Very soon.”

“With her, or just us?” Emma asked.

“Her later. You very soon. I miss you,” Regina said.

“Hey Emma,” a voice said, and they pulled apart to see Ruby.

“I’m so glad you came!” Emma said, hugging her.

“So am I,” Ruby murmured. She tilted her head in the direction Maleficent had gone. “Made a new friend, so forgive me if I make this fast.” She raised what was unmistakably a wrapped bottle.

Emma chuckled. “What else from our friend the tavern owner?”

“Yeah, but this is the good stuff. Aged apple cider. Hard to find. The finest booze in my whole collection.”

“You’re too good to us, Ruby,” Regina chuckled.

“I am, but lucky for you, you have very hot friends,” she said. Then she hugged Emma again and headed off after Maleficent.