#I shared tiramisu with my uncle today

[creature-from-unknown-orgins]

I should sleep

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom

The Key to His Heart

It is often said that the key to a man’s heart, goes through his stomach. Well, that doesn’t apply to the man who owns my heart, and vice versa. By all means, we do indulge in culinary treats. 

In our younger days, it was heaps of take-away; Indian, Chinese, Indonesian. Never Italian, though. Angelo would’ve been devastated if we sought out Italian food somewhere else.

And there were of course the sweets, to satisfy the madman I lived with. 

(Still lives with, to be clear.) 

Ginger nuts, jammy dodgers, scones, Mrs. Hudson’s home baked cakes and biscuits, tiramisu, chocolate mousse, and sticky toffee pudding.

But I’m rambling. My madman, the great Sherlock Holmes, still doesn’t eat the amount of food I would like him to. He still claims that it slows him down. Not that he has places to be nowadays. If you don’t count his beloved beehives that is.

I seem unable to keep my thoughts collected on one topic today. The thing I was going to tell you about, was how I, John Hamish Watson, was given the key to the detective’s heart.

Everyone thought we were a couple from the day I moved into Baker Street. Quite a lot of them took it as a personal insult, when we, well, mostly I, objected to the assumption.

“Not gay!” I shouted out to anyone who cared to listen.

Few did, but the one that mattered the most, always listened. It still hurts to think about. 

Sherlock is interested in all kinds of things, but the thing that has stuck with him since childhood, is the fascination for bees. I was stunned when he told me about it quite early in our acquaintanceship. Living in London assured that we didn’t come across them very often, unless we walked the parks. We mostly ran through the parks, always chasing the bad guys. That was a relief, because I was terrified of the tiny creatures. 

“How is that possible? You invaded Afghanistan,” Sherlock protested when I told him.

“Well, childhood trauma isn’t that easily forgotten, Sherlock,” I stated.

When I was eight years old, I was stung by dozens of bees. I had been fighting with Harry, and she pushed me against our uncle’s two beehives. The push was hard, and both hives fell to the ground. I can still recall the angry buzzing and the bees’ fierce attack. It was summer, and I was only wearing a pair of shorts… 

Enough about my childhood horrors. 

It took me too long to realise that I loved Sherlock. Even when he came back from the dead, I acted like I hadn’t grieved him like a lover.

Keep calm and carry on.

Sherlock’s sudden illness, which forced him to stay in bed for almost a fortnight, made us both come out of our shells. His high fever made him hallucinate, and he was quite talkative throughout. He pledged his love for me numerous times a day, mostly in his sleep, so I didn’t put much into the declarations. I worked it out in the end and did some pledging myself.

He wasn’t entirely convinced at first. The not gay statement still lingered in his mind, and he was reluctant to do more than occasionally holding my hand and hug me. So, I decided to convince him. I just had to get Harry on board. She was surprisingly amenable to my suggestion to buy her share of our uncle’s cottage, which we both had inherited some years previous. 

Sherlock didn’t know about it. I had almost forgotten about it myself by that time. 

The cottage was called “In the Meadows”, and the name fit perfectly. It was surrounded by them on three sides, and said meadows needed some taming. Nobody had lived there for at least three years. An old neighbour had kept an eye on it, though, so it wasn’t in total decay. It needed some loving hands, which I hoped Sherlock and I could provide.

I took him down to Sussex one sunny Saturday in May. The neighbour had assured me that beehives were in place, and the gear needed to tend to them.

“Happy belated birthday, Sherlock,” I said when we stood outside the house.

“What do you mean, John?” he asked, too stunned to deduce and observe properly.

“It’s for you. Or us, really,” I told him.

I was so anxious for his reaction.

The blinking came first. I had anticipated that. What came as a total surprise was the kiss once he had spotted the hives.

He turned to face me, cradled my face, and pressed his lips softly against mine. I almost stopped breathing but finally got my arms to work and circled them around his waist.

“My John. You…how…but you’re terrified of…” Sherlock stuttered after he broke the kiss.

“Well, I’ll just have to trust you to protect me for once, then,” I murmured, still dazed from the tender kiss.

“Do you really love me that much, John?” Sherlock inquired.

“More than anything,” I told him, which lead to further kisses.

If you wondered; yes, we’re both retired, and our address isn’t 221B Baker Street anymore, but “In the Meadows”, Sussex.

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

This is also my entry to the Sherlock Challenge of July, prompt: key.

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(Tell me if you want to be tagged or untagged)

[eviesessays]

7. Who are the best cooks in your family?

My aunt Mary was a great cook.  She was the wife of my mother’s oldest brother, Jack Schreyer.  My maternal  grandparents, Peter and Anna Ottenbritt Schreyer immigrated to Canada from Bergensdorf, Germany in early 1900.  The Canadian Government was giving wheat farmers land in exchange for bushels of wheat at harvest time.  Land in the prairies was plentiful and wheat was scarce .  It was just five years before my grandfather owned his farm outright.  He continued to enlarge his holding so my uncle Jack and my aunt Mary inherited a very large wheat farm.  Aunt Mary was in charge of the vegetable garden.  She also milked the cows and killed the chicken for dinner.  She made sauerkraut in a wooden barrel and she churned her own butter which was the greatest tasting butter ever.  She made quarts of dill pickles and preserved jars of every vegetable to use through the long cold Winter in Ladywood, Manitoba.  She baked her own bread, both black and white.  She shared with me the joy of what is still today my favorite sandwich, cucumber on black bread.  She made the very best perogies always smothered in onions, butter and sour cream. My aunt Mary was an incredible cook.

My mother was a great cook.  Every Sunday there was a roast of beef or chicken for dinner.  She breaded pork chops that were tender enough to cut with a fork.  I still don’t know how she could do that.  Her talents escaped all her children except perhaps my brother, Carl.  He was not a gourmet cook  but an adventuresome outdoors man.  He hunted and fished .  He made an annual pilgrimage to Bella Coola in British Columbia to catch his limit of sockeye salmon.  He canned and smoked sockeye and Coho salmon. He hunted deer and moose .  He  cut meat into ribs and roasts and made his own sausage. He had a smoke house and smoked some meats.  Later in his life he began making wine.  His primary choices were raspberry and Saskatoon berry wine.  I liked his fish and meat much better.  I do not know of any special culinary talents of my other siblings.  Once when Michael and Dora visited Warner, Michael and I decided to make a watermelon, cantaloupe, champagne punch.  By the time we finished tasting it along the process I dont think we were reliable judges of our product.

Of my children, Peter makes great turkey chili.  that is his entire repertoire.  Heather abdicated her cooking chores to John when she returned to work.  They are now retired but John is still cooking.  Robin’s husband, Bob was a great cook and did all of it.  He also did all the shopping.  He continued until a few weeks before he died after a long battle with brain cancer.   Jaylyn is the best cook of all my children and her husband is equally as good. They serve epic dinners that  are better described as feasts.  

Then comes the next generation and I think Anne is the greatest cook.  There is no challenge that she will not tackle.  I would not even consider planning a, “leg of lamb” dinner, but no hesitation from Anne.  There is no spice, herb, grain  or exotic vegetable too hard to find or no equipment  too much of a nuisance.  Anne’s significant other, Dan is a chef and readily admits Anne is a better dessert cook.  Her Tiramisu is incredibly delicious and her carrot cake melts in the mouth. I think Anne is the best cook in the family.  Hillary makes delicious and exquisitely beautiful cakes.  Kalote makes delicious salads and breakfast sandwiches and both are probably better cooks than i am aware of.  Digger has a most eclectic diet.  Having spent several years in Japan, he has a repetoire of rice recipes.  Harry and Will are appreciative partakers of any meal prepared by others.  Anne is the best  cook.

[matrixaffiliate]

Endeavor

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

These are the last two chapters, my friends. I hope you've loved this journey as much as I have.

Chapter 19

Vic couldn't help the giddy feeling she had as she shut down her work computer. It had been a whirlwind of six months but she and Ted had taken his comment about being done waiting to heart. He probably would have eloped with her if she'd been serious when she'd made the comment after his proposing. But Vic admitted that she did want a wedding, and Ted had been fully supportive, he simply asked for a short engagement. She didn't miss the irony. She'd gone from an engagement with a man who wanted to wait years for a wedding to a man who wanted to elope with her the same hour he proposed.

But Vic worried that everything was moving in fast forward as they closed in on their wedding date. She was glad they took pictures at her dress fitting because just five months later she was already straining to remember how it had gone, the flutter in her chest when she'd found the dress, the way her mum's eyes had filled with tears, and Dominique's commentary on every dress and whether or not Ted would faint dead away when he saw her. Vic couldn't remember the other flavors of cake they had tried. She couldn't remember the other venues they had looked at. There were dozens of little things that Vic couldn't remember, and she couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't because they were doing everything so quickly.

"What am I going to do without you for two weeks?" Emmeline stepped up to Vic's cubicle.

Vic laughed and grabbed her bag. "I'm sure you'll be fine. The real question is how I'll ever catch up when I get back."

Emmeline smirked, "I'm sure you'll be fine." She echoed.

Vic laughed, "We'll both be fine, but I've got a lot to get done for Saturday so I'll be off."

"Have fun!" Emmeline gave her arm a squeeze as she stepped towards the exit.

"Thanks! I'll see you in two weeks!"

Vic left and while a part of her was still fretting about how fast everything was going, she had to admit that she was excited to finally be at this point. She was getting married! She gave in to the giddiness that was bubbling inside of her as she drove home, turning her car radio up horrendously loud and laughing and dancing as she drove home to Teddy.

That had happened quickly after his proposal too. Ted had almost pleaded with her to come home to his flat that Monday and she honestly hadn't resisted all that much. She had insisted that they tell her family that evening, if for no other reason than to get her a change of work clothes for the next day. Ted had taken that thought and ran with it, trying to pack up her entire wardrobe when he'd followed her up to her bedroom. It had taken some quick talking but Vic had managed to convince Ted to wait to move her in till that weekend. He'd still woke her up at five in the morning to get started that Saturday. While she hadn't loved the early morning wake up call, it was nice to have him so excited to have her with him. She rather enjoyed the feeling of being wanted.

The juxtaposition was almost laughable. The wedding planning she had done with Sean had seemed to move like molasses, but with Ted it was lightspeed. Vic was grateful that she'd finished the rewrite of her novel and her first round of query letters before Ted had proposed. She didn't feel like she was slacking off on her book knowing that she was waiting for responses, and it gave her all the time she needed to plan her wedding in a hurry. After their honeymoon, Vic planned on sending out the next round of queries. She felt hopeful that it would go somewhere. She had two different agents ask for the full manuscript, one turned her down, the other had gone radio silent. But Vic was trying to look at it as a good thing. At least she knew her book wasn't awful.

She turned her key in the door and as she walked into their flat Ted caught her round the middle and kissed her, pressing her into the door as it closed behind her.

"I can't believe you worked a full day today." Ted murmured against her lips. "I've been going insane waiting for you."

Vic laughed and dropped her bag to the floor to link her arms behind his neck. "You do realize that I don't work for my uncle anymore, right?"

"Of course, I do," Ted chuckled and kissed her, "but Emmeline told you that she'd give you today as well, and you told her no."

"Yeah, because I'm a good employee." She grinned against him.

"You're far more than good, love."

"And we have a lot to get done tonight, so we should maybe start thinking of getting on with it."

"Can't resist me, eh?"

Vic laughed and gave the hair at the nape of his neck a gentle tug.

"You're ridiculous!"

"And you're going to marry me tomorrow." Ted nuzzled her face with his.

"Only if we get these last things done."

"So torturous."

Vic eased out of his embrace, "We'll have two weeks of this, love, don't worry."

Ted took her hand and brought her knuckles to his lips, "Alright, to work with us."

It didn't take that long to get the last few things on her list done, the most important of which being packing for their honeymoon. One of the benefits of doing a fast wedding was that Vic was able to convince her mum to keep things small as well. She'd introduced her parents to Le Chocolat Expatrié and the Rousseau's had been more than willing to cater a small reception. Madame Rousseau had even decided to create a chocolate, special for the occasion. Their wedding wouldn't be as grand or as big as Kalil and Maira's had been, but it would have their family and their friends and that was all Vic really wanted.

They were finishing up the last of her list when her phone started ringing and distracted by what Ted was saying, she answered without bothering to see who was calling.

"Hello, this is Victoire."

"Hi Victoire, this is Jessie Campoli, I requested your full manuscript a month or so ago."

Vic felt the air rush out of her and she shot her hand out to grip the kitchen table in front of her.

"Er, yes, hello."

Ted's whole demeanor changed and he put a concerned hand on her arm as she gripped the table. Vic bit her lip and tried to smile through her nerves.

"I was calling to offer to be your agent, and that I have a publisher interested in having the full manuscript as soon as possible. They would love to have it ready for summer if we can manage it."

"Oh my gosh! Yes! I mean, thank you!"

Jessie laughed. "Could you meet with me on Monday and we can get everything signed and sorted?"

Vic felt her smile falter. "I, er, I'm actually getting married tomorrow and leaving for my honeymoon on Sunday morning."

"Oh, well congratulations! I, hmm, I do have time this evening. Would you have time to get it sorted tonight and then I could send your manuscript to the publisher first thing Monday morning?"

Vic looked up at Ted, who was looking at her with confusion written all over his face.

"Yes, I could meet you tonight and get signed on with you as my literary agent."

Ted's mouth dropped to the floor before jumping from the table and grabbing his car keys.

"Excellent," Jessie sounded relieved and they coordinated where to meet before disconnecting the call.

"I told you!" Ted picked her up and spun her around as she tried to retrieve her purse. "I told you that your book was going to be huge!"

Vic laughed. "It's not signed yet, I just have an agent, not a book deal."

"An agent who wants to sign you before your wedding and honeymoon." He set her down so that she could grab her purse and slip into her shoes.

"Well, yes, but it's only so that she can send my book to the publisher first thing Monday morning; I guess we'll see what comes from it all when we get home from Italy then, won't we?"

"Bellissima," Ted pulled her back into him.

"That's the only word in Italian you know isn't it?" Vic laughed as they moved to the door.

"Of course not, I know spaghetti and pizza, and tiramisu, and cannoli, and…"

Vic cut him off with a quick kiss. "It's a good thing we have translator apps on our phones so that we can get directions to all the restaurants that will feed you spaghetti and pizza and all that."

"If we ever make it out of the hotel." Ted pushed her against the door frame and leant in.

"We'll never make it there if we don't get out the door."

Ted smirked at her before leaning in the rest of the way and kissing her slowly.

"I'll restrain myself for now then."

Vic grinned at him as he pulled away, his turquoise hair freshly dyed for tomorrow.

"Just till later tonight, yeah?"

"I'm sure I could be persuaded to indulge you in some form of celebration, because of your new agent, of course."

"Sure, the fact that I'm marrying you tomorrow has nothing to do with it."

"Nothing whatsoever," Ted laughed and opened her car's passenger door.

Getting signed on with Jessie took longer than Vic expected it to, mostly because of all the questions Vic realized she had, and then Ted's questions, and Jessie's questions for her. By the time they left the little coffee shop they'd met Jessie at, Vic was exhausted, and it was much later than she'd intended them to be up, let alone out on the town.

"How important are these last things on your list?" Ted yawned and looked at the list she'd shared with him from her phone as they walked back into their flat.

Vic looked over his arm to see the list and chuckled.

"They're not important, love."

"You sure?"

Vic kicked off her shoes and pulled her top over her head before winking at him.

"Positive."

Ted smirked at her, his hand holding up his phone dropping to his side. "So torturous."

"Come on, fiancé, let's enjoy our last night as a young engaged couple before we cross the line into an old married couple."

"Who said anything about being old? I didn't sign on for old."

Vic laughed as he followed her into the bedroom. "Don't worry love, I've noticed that the Marauder men don't seem to age much in certain aspects."

Ted grabbed her around her waist, and Vic felt her breath catch.

"What exactly are you suggesting?" He brought his hands just high enough to tease her before sliding back down to the waistline of her jeans.

Vic linked her arms behind his neck and pulled herself closer, "Only that I'm prepared to be the adult when the occasion calls for it."

"Like now?" Ted brought his lips to the hollow of her neck.

"Yeah, I'll be a consenting adult right now." She tried to laugh but sighed instead as Ted bit down on her neck.

Ted did manage a deep chuckle as he hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He moved them to their bed before laying her down.

"Good, because I believe you mentioned wanting some form of celebration tonight."

Then he kissed her.

When they were finally drifting off for the night, Ted curled around her, Vic let the giddy feeling carry off to sleep, knowing that tomorrow she would come back to this bed as Mrs. Edward Lupin.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Ma chérie," Fleur looked like she may cry as Vic stood in front of the mirror. "You are so beautiful."

"I can't believe this is happening." Vic tried to laugh but it came out more of a watery chuckle. "I can't cry." She repeated and smiled at her photographer.

"Don't worry about crying," she patted her camera, "I can fix coloring and that sort of thing when I enhance the lighting."

Vic blinked against the unwanted moisture in her eyes.

"I repeat, I can't cry."

Fleur wrapped her in a hug. "Then we must hurry to get all of the pictures done before the ceremony. If you are busy, you will be too distracted to cry."

"Who's crying?" Dominique poked her head in. "Holy gorgeous! Vic! You're stunning!"

"Thanks, Dom," Vic took a deep breath, "Let's go see if Ted agrees with you."

"If he doesn't, I'll make Dad hold him down and I'll poke out his eyes."

"Dominique!" Fleur whirled on her.

"It's just an expression, Maman, you know how crude of a language English is," Dominique smirked and skipped out the door ahead of them.

Dominique didn't need to worry though, at least Vic didn't think so. As she walked into the hall where they would be taking pictures, Ted looked up and dropped the plastic cup of water he'd been holding. Vic laughed as Remus quickly reached out and caught the cup before it emptied all its contents on the floor, and Ted's suit.

"You're marrying her," Remus gave his son's shoulder a gentle push, "The least you can do is meet her halfway."

Ted stumbled the first few steps before getting his feet in coordination with his brain.

"Vic…" her name was all he managed to say, but his hands didn't seem to need his voice's help to pull her into him.

Vic suddenly felt momentarily shy and couldn't hold his gaze. "It's alright?"

Ted chuckled, "I would have married you in my old blue t-shirt and your lounge shorts, love."

He moved in to kiss her and Vic pulled away before he could ruin her makeup.

Ted raised an eyebrow at her. "This better not become a pattern. I'm more or less set on kissing you like my life depends on it."

"Can we wait to ruin my makeup until after we've taken the pictures though?"

"So torturous," Ted kissed her carefully this time, but slow enough that Vic was breathless when he pulled back.

"Let's get all these public memories over with," Ted smirked down at her. "I'm anxious to get on to the more private ones."

That was the last slow moment of the day. Pictures were a blur. Even walking down the aisle when she thought back on it seemed to move in fast forward. Reading her vows and listening to Ted's were moments she'd always cherish, but they seemed to be over before she could really enjoy them. Jamie and Al coordinating with Luis for a recreation of a dance from a television show wedding seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. Her father-daughter dance seemed to start and end the moment her dad took her hand. Everything was over before she was ready for it.

"Wait!" She gripped Ted's arm as he went to lead her out to the hall for their grand exit.

"What? What's wrong?" Ted looked around them.

"I just, I need, it's all going so fast, I want to remember something!" She knew she was being ridiculous, but her wedding only would happen once, and she already felt like she was forgetting everything from the day.

Ted pulled her into his arms, his right hand coming up to caress her cheek.

"I can wait a moment, I mean, I waited almost a year to be your boyfriend, didn't I?"

"I'm sorry, I know it's silly, but it's our wedding Ted! What if I forget everything before we even get home from Italy?"

"Hey," his hand slid from her cheek to her neck and her shoulder, "It's our wedding, you're not going to forget it all, but even if you did, as long as we keep choosing each other every day, that's what matters, right?"

"I know, and you're right, I just," she smiled up at him, "I'm only getting married once. I want to remember as much of it as I can."

Ted pulled her in and kissed her, his hands wrapping around her waist to press into her back, his lips caressing hers before sliding his tongue gently into her mouth, one hand sliding up her back to press against the back of her neck.

"Remember this," He murmured against her before pressing his lips back into hers.

And for the rest of her life, she did remember that one moment, that one kiss, with the man who had loved her since he first laid eyes on her.

[ksastories-blog]

I’ve been having a few tough days of mental health, last night and today all day were tough. I have certain gifts of honing in on something, asking all the right questions, really wanting to learn for the sake of learning. So when my inner being feels so much pain, I take the intellectual route. I want to know the link between depression and apathy. I want to know if this is all stemming from PTSD or is it actually stemming from Codependency and PTSD along with adrenal insufficiency and chronic disease showing up as by product of it. And if so, is this all from narcissistic abuse and if so how do I undo this all. I’m ready but so tired of it, so essentially ready for change. It’s good to know things but how exactly does this make one feel better unless you take action to feel better. You might not have the will to take action and feel worse, so sometimes it is best to rest and just sleep.

I walked around. I messaged one of my spiritual guides to help me because I was projecting on Allah at that point. Just the humility behind, ‘please help me,’ taught me a few things within that hour. I scanned the makeup aisle at the department store after sending this message, a plea for help. I thought of my sis in law and thought of what she would want. I decided to just leave and walk around some more since I couldn’t find anything useful. I came across a young woman who was with two children trying to cross the road and was having a difficult time with traffic. She was panicking so I asked her if she needed help. She agreed. I awkwardly waited in silence next to her after asking her if the little girl was her sister, she said no, both the girls were her own (daughters). As the signals changed we continued forward walking in silence. Then she asked if I lived in the neighborhood, and the basics. She named my undergrad and said she had seen me there. I doubted it but I agreed. I told her my face might resemble someone else’s that she knew. She asked me if I were walking in this direction. I wasn’t. But I told her, I would like to walk. I thought this is God’s way of saying help someone as well, why don’t you?

So I dropped them home, then walked back and went by a bakery. There was an old woman sitting outside. She was wearing an abaya and some form of headscarf but I couldn’t tell if she was Jewish or Muslim since she could have passed for both. She looked at me dead in the face and said, darling, would you help me. A part of me knew she wanted money but then I thought what if she doesn’t. So I asked her what she needed help with. She held my hand and her long nails inched into my palms, give me something she said. So I told her I would once I get change. Shaykh Nur al Hassan would always say to give sadaqa on Fridays, so I went in and bought a slice of tiramisu. I noticed the lady serving and packing it. She smiled and her cheek bones easily lifted and her eyes sparkled. I smiled back. And then I saw my own reflection in the mirror for a split second. I looked ok but tired. Definitely had tired written under my eyes. That heavy spot. So then I walked out and rolled the money in my fist and tried to give it to the old woman very quickly, but she held my hand, took time to look into my eyes, smiled at me and said bless you darling. I think I smiled back, at least I hope so. I continued walking.

God’s mercy is so vast. He does things to us and inspires us in ways that only He knows of. I had asked for help, and help was asked of me. But He is the one who actually helps. I walked home and there was an uncle sitting in front of our building. I know him since I was a child. He greeted me. Then he said he saw my picture on whatsapp. Irritated, I reiterated his statement, whatsapp? Oh I mean facebook he replied. And then it occurred to me that two days ago the friend request which I didn’t approve of from his wife, was probably a joint account they shared. And uncle being desi, is trying to get the point across that it was them who had sent it. I did a fake laugh at this point because sometimes that’s what you have to do with aunties and uncles from the community. And he continued, so I need your help. Do this for me and my wife today will you? I can do that, I answered. It was just related to technology.

When I came home, the help I had asked for was received as well. My teacher told me what to do. But I had to be honest and vulnerable in the process of it. I had to tell him, hey I’m projecting this stuff on God, help me. And God helped me through him.

I spoke to my sil and her little sister. And the day went fine. Then I had these pains all over my body. Starting from my stomach and going all the way to the palms of my hands and my collar bones. I took a nap. I cried. I got a massage. I read on energy healing. I slept some more. I prayed. I called codependents anonymous. My mother asked me about therapy. I don’t have it any longer. I missed my wazifa. Every day, I’ve been doing an additional thikr after asr and today I didn’t do it which my teacher didn’t give me permission for either, that’s from the shadhilis we have our own but why do you want to do it? What did I tell you before, we spoke about this before? You said no, I said. I tried doing yoga. I cried again. I prayed maghrib, I ugly cried in my sajood. I don’t know just help me. I messaged a very long lost acquaintance. With the words, I don’t feel well. To my surprise this person felt the same a few years ago and is now doing much better. Being older than me and having gone through similar things, I found hope in the words that were exchanged.

And I survived today. One day is done. And hopefully God will help with the days to come. And when someone asks what is that you want. I just don’t want to feel like death. I don’t want to feel apathetic. I read some Alice in Wonderland and ate cheetos.

One bad mental health day over. I’ve seen worse from myself. Winter is approaching. I will be ok. One day at a time. insA

[thefoxdenrp]

Malak! I have couple questions for you. What is your favorite dessert? What kind of people are you attracted to? What makes you enjoy the violence so much? What is your favorite memory with Seraphina? Also, what would happen to your and Ciel's contract if you grew to care about him, would you still take his soul? And speaking of that, what do you think of Ciel for now?

"My favorite dessert would have to be something with dark chocolate and mint. I do not like dishes that are overly sweet, which is it why I lean towards dark chocolate. Meanwhile mint is a nice and soothing flavor. Though the cooks in the kitchen do make a superb tiramisu."

"Powerful people." The prince smirked, not saying more on the subject.

"It's in my nature, I supposed. Both of my fathers have always leaned towards violence in the past to get where they are today. I've also spend a great deal of time with Uncle Moloch, our Head Torturer in the Kingdom. He's taught me much."

A smile graced his lips for a brief moment as he thought about his sister. "She has always been the more outspoken one of us two. One of my fondest memories was when we snuck into the throne room. It was storming and neither of us could sleep. Instead of going to our fathers like we normally would, Seraphina had the brilliant idea to explore the castle. We were still very young and learning all of its nooks and crannies and we rarely had a moment like that where we did not have supervision, so I followed her lead. We got lost in one of the secret passageways for well over an hour before finally entering the throne room. We had never been in there without our fathers so it seemed so magically at the time to have it all to ourselves. We climbed up onto their thrones and Seraphina started acting out as if subjects were before us. I remember thinking about how well suited she was in that role. She even declared to me that night that she would someday be Queen. Being twins, neither of us were ahead of the other to be the full heir. It was a title we shared and would have to figure out later when we came of age. However, that night, I knew I wanted to give up my claim to the throne and help Seraphina in her reign, to serve by her side. Since then I have been doing my best to become Papa's successor as High Elder instead."

Malak's eyes lit up with interest. "Now, now... that is a rather amusing question. I personally do not see this situation happening, but who knows. Goddess Luna has many plans in place that we know nothing of." He sighed. "If I were to become... attached... to the child as you say, I guess I could do one of two things. I could either wait until he grows old and dies of natural causes, or meets his demise in some way, and just take his soul then. He would have lived a fuller life, I supposed. Or there is a way to break our contract. It's painful (for him) and difficult, but it can be done. I would still have to take part of his soul per the agreement we made."

He sipped his tea. "At the moment, he's a brat who I would like to strangle if he dumps one more plate of food on the carpet. I am thinking we need some extra help around this place."