#and he just kept getting married and divorced afterwards to make that one first initial flash marriage and following divorce mean less

[tennessoui]

please write part two to the divorce attorney where they actually get together 😭 im dying, it has me in stitches and i NEED TO KNOW HOW IT ENDS XD

ok maybe i will soon write this (obligatory pause for groans from people who want me to stop finding new things and just finish my old things) but i was thinking about it today and honestly

they meet at a bar after obi-wan's long term girlfriend tells him she can't marry him and they should break up, and this is obi-wan's and anakin's first conversation that isn't in some professional capacity so at first honestly they don't know what to say to one another

but then anakin confesses that he wasn't sure obi-wan would recognize him without a wedding ring, and obi-wan scoffs and is like do you know how many other repeat customers i have?

and anakin is like no? and obi-wan is like just one other. he's been divorced three times. every time, it's been devastating for him.

and anakin is like (pensively) i've been divorced before.

and obi-wan is like uh i know. i'm your divorce lawyer. you've been divorced 29 times.

and anakin goes all quiet and picks at the label of his beer and then he shrugs and he's like. 30 i guess. and once when it mattered.

[bulletballet-arch]

The Revised [ Full ] History of Eve in Picture Perfect

( until I decide to tweak and edit it some more )

In this verse, Eve’s mother Linda would reside in Brooklyn for three years after the death of her husband, William Littlejohn, his brother Malcolm, and Malcolm’s wife Yvette. Initially, she stays in Brooklyn simply because she feels she is supposed to. Her in-laws, Amos and Liza, want to observe her. Similarly, Linda’s parents want to ensure she is fine after narrowly facing death. Haunted by the massacre, Linda suffers from survivor’s syndrome, but she is never allowed to vocalize the pain felt. In the midst of secretly attending therapy sessions ( while Eve is taken care of by her Grandma Evelyn and Papa Giuseppe ) Linda finds that her lifestyle is stagnant. She feels as though she is a woman who does whatever someone else wants. Therefore, Linda decides to move to Manhattan with the five-year-old Eve in tow. They live in a luxurious apartment and Linda makes her living as a secretary on Wall Street while Eve attends ballet classes.

Linda didn’t have to be a secretary, as the Littlejohns (and her father) provided her with money, but she liked working. It kept her mind off things. Sometimes things would feel great until people asked her was her husband the late William Littlejohn. In time, Linda gets a boyfriend who is a stockbroker. He’s white, he’s a recent divorcee and because she worked so closely with him, Linda knew it would be unprofessional to date him. But she thought to herself, ‘this is my decision. It’s okay because I have some control.’ The idea of control was a myth, though. She became his arm candy, similar to what happened within the Littlejohn Family when she initially became linked with William.

Linda could not complain too much, though. Because her new lover was good to Eve. The overall excellent dynamic caused them to get married. Their marriage lasts for four years. Eve is eight years old when they divorce. It’s a divorce that’s long. Messy. He was going to jail for a pyramid scheme was a part of and Linda didn’t want to stand by him. After the divorce - and the trial - Linda decides she could use a break. She decides that she and Eve should leave the country for a little while. Because why not? She has the money. The first country they go to is England, staying in London.

It was supposed to be a month-long vacation, but she kept putting off returning home. She didn’t want to house hunt back in New York, she didn’t want to be identified with a scandal, she didn’t want to see any family. So they began living in London. When Eve is nine years old, Linda would decide to go to South Africa. Eve experienced cities such as Durban, Ghana, Cape Town. While Linda was really in Africa to become more connected to her ancestors, all and all, she thought the experience would be good for Eve. Her baby girl could have a lot of memories of different buildings, landscapes, cultures. And, this exposure did make Eve happy, however, she had no stable school life or friendships. So on a social level, Eve was miserable. She also tried having pen pals, but that only worked for so long before both parties ceased writing one another.  Eve did feel at home when she was in New York with her extended family during holidays like Christmas. Eve’s maternal grandparents wanted her to live with them, but her mother refused it. Eve has a vivid memory seated in the back of a taxi, crying because she didn’t want to go to the airport. And as for Linda - well, she would never notice this, but whenever she was deeply distressed, her mental desire was to just keep moving.

When Eve was fifteen years old, her mother fell in love with a highly esteemed professor from the University of Cape Town. This would be her mother’s third significant relationship. They all began living together and he begins an inappropriate relationship with Eve. It’s all an act of grooming that Eve isn’t aware of. Linda catches on to it and calls out her boyfriend for his behavior. However, he is offended by the accusations. He moves out, but he still contacts Eve through phone calls and  even picks her up from school at one point without her mother’s consent. Eve remembers her mother always asking her questions, ‘did he touch you?’ ‘What did he do to you?’ Eve was overwhelmed, as she felt her mother didn’t believe her. It caused Eve to give her the silent treatment, which in turn caused Linda to decide to move again. This time, they would leave Africa to live in Europe - France, specifically.

In France, the two moved twice. First to Paris then to Lyon. Eve liked Lyon more than Paris, but was much too stubborn to admit it. Part of Eve was worried that if she was open about her love, then her mother would want to move somewhere else. She attended college with a focus on art conservation. Ultimately, she did not fully complete her apprenticeship because she would meet Alexandre DuBois, a con artist she fell in love with.

He did not expose his true nature to her at first, but she began questioning the source of the jewelry he was continuously giving her. When she reached the conclusion that he was a criminal of some sort, Alexandre kept insisting that it wasn’t as much of an issue that she was making it out to be. To prove this he wanted Eve to come with him to a job wanting Eve to participate as well. Eve declined, she wasn’t trying to get in any legal trouble. However, Alexandre said he didn’t like boring women. Offended, she agreed.  He slicked down his hair so it could appear straight. Wore his best suit. Meanwhile, he instructed Eve to dress as though she was going to attend the most extravagant party. When they stood side by side, Alexandre was looking like a wealthy white man with a young, black mistress. The trick, Alexandre told her, was to always act as though you belong. For days Eve waited for consequences. For the police to knock at her door. Something. It didn’t happen. She told herself never again, but she got addicted to stealing with Alexandre, as it became an adrenaline rush.

Eventually, Eve and Alexandre were apprehended by law enforcement. Linda bailed Eve out and told her that if she was not going to continue reaching for her career goals then she would send her to America. Eve would fight back, insisting that she was an adult, so she doesn’t have to go to America just because she said so. Linda then has enough and states that since Eve is a young adult, she can live with Alexandre.  The relationship that would progress between Eve and Alexandre was not without its faults. Even when Eve moved in with him, Alexandre was cheating on her discreetly. He had his alternate hookups and one-night stands, with Eve simply being his main girlfriend. When women smugly confronted Eve of how Alexandre was nothing but a womanizer and she was his latest victim, she fought for the sheer integrity of his name. Behind closed doors, when Eve confronted Alexandre about his inability to be monogamous: he blackened her eye.

The relationship comes to an end when Alexandre gains access to an elite party. During their fumbled job, they would be acknowledged by someone who would be very influential in Eve’s future, Gisella Agostini of the Corsican Mafia. The two would leave the scene in shame, fiercely arguing in the car about who messed up. Eve brings up how he’s a liar and manipulator, only for Alexandre  to rip the pearls from her neck and kick her out his car. She had to find her way back to safety in the dark of the night.

While Alexandre and Eve are separated, the Agostini family does research on the two. They see that Alexandre has a long history of theft, and even a previous murder charge, while Eve just seems to be a college student who got caught up in the thrill of crime. First, Alexandre is snatched off the street by Agostini goons. In what he deemed as an act of self-preservation, he sells Eve out, claiming it was her idea.

When Eve is abducted by the crime family, Gisella confronts her directly. The old woman states that she could fix everything and spare her from her ‘husband’s wrath.’ But the truth is, Gisella’s husband doesn’t do anything in the crime family any longer due to his age and illnesses, but Gisella uses him as a ‘front’ to reign.  Eve ends up working for the crime family,  and in little moments, she ever so gradually speculates she is in the midst of a female mob boss. As the months go along, Eve’s mother wants to make amends but Eve doesn’t want her mother to know she is now gang-affiliated. Eve is very afraid for her life. This leads to more mother-daughter tension due to the lack of communication.  

As the years pass on, Gisella is progressively attached to Eve. This is reflective of how she has her own passion for the world and the diverse people who live in it (especially those of the African diaspora.) In turn, Eve initially grows to feel like she’s a part of some sort of stable family. Ultimately, their relationship gradually becomes overbearing and toxic. Eve is literally feeling like she’s owned and controlled by an old white woman. Therefore, Eve distances herself from dealing with Gisella personally because it was too much. However, Eve continued working for the crime family in regards to assassinations and heists, but she was not eating at Gisella’s home for dinner or talking over tea. Eve decides to make amends with Gisella by the time she is 31. Little did she know, the woman was on her death bed at this point. They were kind to one another and Gisella lets Eve know she can do whatever she wants now. Later that week, the old woman would die. While Gisella’s death comes as a shock - Eve was also feeling relieved. Afterward, Eve has mild conflict with Gisella’s nephew who feels like she should not be leaving the crime family, but Eve insists Gisella harbored no ill will towards her and wanted her to do whatever she wanted. So, she’s leaving.

Eve relocates to New York to begin a new, stable life. It’s what she wants. It’s what she needs. Or so she thinks. She thought New York would have her feel at home and content as it did when she was a child, but she didn't feel this way at all. She felt like a stranger among her family, like a guest or something.  Eve proceeds to sell the art she makes for a living and gains recognition from it. Admittedly, she’s bored with a quiet life. It is entering a relationship with Salvatore Scozzari that sparks her passion for crime, although he would much rather her marry him and live a quiet but glamorous life. But in the end? Eve can’t do it. Breaking up with Sal by claiming she’ll be working at a gallery in California, she travels to another state. Her life as a thief starting up a second time.

[365days365movies]

February 24, 2021: Annie Hall (1977) (Part 1)

Well...Woody Allen.

I, uh...OK, look, I could get into the whole Woody Allen thing, but INSTEAD of me doing that, I’ll just say this: look into it. Because there is a LOT on this subject, and it’s controversial as HELL. At the end of the day, I’ll recommend this upcoming series on HBO, and just recommend that you look into it.

Because, uh...yeah, it’s not great. That’s all I’m gonna say, because I need to educate myself on it more as well. Instead, let’s talk for a few seconds about divorcing the art from the artist. But ONLY for a few seconds.

I understand why some of you might be surprised I’m doing this one. Because, again...Woody Allen. But, yeah, I always try to do my best to divorce the art from the artist. Because some people suck, but they still make nice things, or at the very least, things that should be open to interpretation and appreciation.

“Superfreak” is a classic song of 1981, and everybody’s heard at least some of it, but Rick James fuckin’ kidnapped two women and kept them in his basement, WHERE HE TORTURED THEM. Edgar Degas made beautiful paintings of ballet dancers, and was also A MASSIVE ANTI-SEMITE. And before he was (RIGHTFULLY AND JUSTIFIABLY) outed as a roofie-ing piece-o-shit...I grew up with - and genuinely enjoyed - this guy’s comedy.

And you can judge me for this, but...I still think his stand-up was and is genuinely funny, and I still appreciate the cultural impact that The Cosby Show had on society’s perception of African-American families, divorced from the stereotype of the ghetto. Fact of the matter is, works themselves deserve to be separated from the artist who made them. That’s my philosophy, and I’m sticking with it Entirely fine to disagree with me, by the way, I get it.

But in that spirit, I’m watching Annie Hall, despite its creators likely transgressions. After all, this is technically his magnum opus, and it’s a good look into the man himself. And so, with that in mind: Annie Hall! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

Alvy Singer (Woody Allen) is talking directly to us about his outlook on life, and his view on the potential future. He tells half of a joke, then an amusing anecdote, and a bit more until telling us that he’s broke up with Annie, and he’s still thinking about it, trying to figure out exactly where things went wrong. He goes back to the beginning, which is punctuated with flashbacks.

He grew up in Brooklyn in World War II, and a young Alvy (Jonathan Munk) is with his mother (Joan Newman) at the doctor’s. He’s depressed after learning that the universe will one day end after a period of expansion, and is having his first real existential crisis. I had mine around the same age, actually, went I learned that the Earth will one day get swallowed by the sun. And THEN came the realization that I’d be dead by that point. AND THEN came the realization that I’d die one day, and that was a WHOLE NEW crisis to...anyway.

He grew up under the Coney Island rollercoaster according to him (although his analyst says that he exaggerates), and that’s what he blames for his “nervous personality. He’s also got an active imagination, often blurring fantasy and reality. His Dad ran the bumper cars on Coney Island (a place that I’ve never been, but desperately want to go).

He continues on talking about his former schoolmates, and not really that well. While in class, young Alvy kisses a...little girl...ahem. And then, when reprimanded by the teacher, current Alvy notes that he was always...like that...and he also says this to the little girl, and they talk about Freud’s latency period, and Alvy said he never...had...one...that’s uh...that’s fuckin’ SOMETHING, now isn’t it?

OK, well, shoving that forcefully aside as hard as I can, Alvy wonders aloud on where his classmates now, and one of them says this:

This also involves a little girl saying she’s “into leather,” which is...awkward as FUCK, but WE’RE GONNA MOVE THE FUCK ON. Alvy recounts his paranoia, and was so even after he became a famous comedian (which we say after a VERY good joke about qualifying for the army as a hostage). He speaks to a friend, Rob (Tony Roberts) about potential anti-Semitism from a person in a passersby meeting, then heads to meet Annie.

Annie Hall (Diane Keaton) arrives at a movie theater, late and in a bad mood. The two are late to their intended film, argue briefly, then head to another film that they’ve already seen, The Sorrow and the Pity. In line, they’re in front of a man loudly soliloquizing on film, much to Alvy’s annoyance.

Annie and Alvy continue to argue a bit, while Alvy openly berates the casual film critic. In the middle, he talks to the audience about it, only to be followed by the crtiic himself, who also acknowledges the audience! Huh! Anyway, he’s a professor at Columbia, and starts continuing his line speech, this time on the work of Marshall McLuhan, one of the most important early media theorists ever. And then, Alvy brings out Marshall McLuhan (Marshall McLuhan) to debate him on it, only for Alvy to turn to the audience and wish aloud that life could really be like this!

I’m beginning to understand why people like this film. It’s metacontextual before metacontextuality was really a thing in film. It’s a fourth-wall breaking movie in some fantastic ways. But will it still hold its muster after breaking the fourth wall’s become so commonplace? we’ll see, I guess.

After a showing of the film, the two return home, and Alvy tries to initiate sex. But Annie’s not really into it at the moment, and Alvy complains that they used to have sex all the time, and it’s been a while since. So, I guess that retroactively awkward scene at the school was meant to foreshadow Alvy’s high libido, that will probably cause some conflict in the film. Anyway, Annie notes that Alvy once went through something similar with Allison, his first wife. Who’s Allison? Flashback!

Allison Portchnik (Carol Kane) is a graduate student in political science, working for a campaign that Alvy’s about to perform for. He’s nervous, as he’s going on after another comedian. She comforts him by saying that she thought he was cute, and he does well. But we flash-forward to a night after they’re married, shortly after the death of JFK, which Alvy’s obsessing over, entertaining various conspiracy theories.

However, Allison rightly points out that his obsession is simply a way for him to avoid having sex with her, which mirrors the present-day situation him him and Annie. Flash forward TO Alvy and Annie, and there are just lobsters...everywhere, on the floor in their kitchen. After that commotion, they talk about Annie’s past romances.

And by talk about, I mean they LITERALLY WALK THROUGH her memories. And I gotta say...I fuckin’ love this method of storytelling. One of her previous boyfriends is an actor (John Glover), and his over-dramatic prose sickens Alvy. We see a second marriage of Alvy’s to New Yorker writer Robin (Janet Margolin), who’s dragged him to a stuffy high society party of intellectuals that he has no interest in going to. Same her, Alvy. I bet the caviar’s canned.

He tries to initiate sex with her - in the middle of the party, mind you - and she turns him down. later, when they get to it in their apartment, she’s unable to, uh...reach satisfaction. From there, we flash-forward after that marriage ends to a tennis match with Rob, where he meets one of his mutual friends: Annie Hall.

And for the record, Annie’s pretty obviously got a crush on him, and she’s adorable as fuck. Also, that outfit, real talk...that outfit rules. She offers to give Alvy a list, during which he’s quite worried about her driving, but the two still get along well enough. Annie’s an amateur photographer, during a time period where photography is considered a relatively new art form. The two go to her apartment, and share familial anecdotes and personal stories about themselves. And as they talk, we also see a set of subtitles on top of each of them that betray their inner feelings and thoughts.

I do genuinely like the stylings of the movie, goddamn. This conversation leads to Alvy asking her out on a date, although they end up scheduling it after Annie auditions at a nightclub as a singer. And while it doesn’t go great, Alvy tells her she was fantastic, and they share a kiss before they head to dinner. They head to her place afterwards, and we cut to later that night, post-coitus.

And then, we get a flash-forward back to the next day, where the two are at a bookstore, and Alvy speaks on his personal philosophy of life.

I'm obsessed with uh, with death, I think. Big - big subject with me, yeah. I have a very pessimistic view of life. You should know this about me if we're gonna go out. You know, I - I feel that life is - is divided up into the horrible and the miserable. Those are the two categories, you know. The - the horrible would be like, um, I don't know, terminal cases, you know, and blind people, crippled. I don't know how they get through life. It's amazing to me. You know, and the miserable is everyone else. That's - that's - so - so - when you go through life - you should be thankful that you're miserable because you're very lucky to be miserable.

Iiiiinteresting.

Shortly into their relationship, they admit they’re in love (or “lurve”, as Alvy says). She moves in with Alvy, which he initially isn’t the biggest fan of, having been burned in two previous marriages And already, their relationship is showing a few bumps. Alvy’s also always trying to push her to take college classes, while she uses mariuana whenever they have sex, which Alvy doesn’t agree with.

But as they have sex one night, without the marijuana at Alvy’s urging, Annie’s mind wanders - LITERALLY.

This film...this film has a VERY unique style of visual storytelling, and I am HERE for it! Seriously, I genuinely love this method of storytelling and comedy, it’s extremely engaging to me.

Soon enough, Alvy gets an interview to write for a talk show host, which he ABSOLUTELY despises. But in doing so, he decides to go into stand-up for himself, and is actually quite successful at it! But before we get to that, we’re at the halfway point! See you in Part 2!

[ellie-writes-things]

The Lemon Tree (memoir)

As a child of about six or seven years in age, my father owned a little red piglet.

Though mis abuelos had six of their nine children in San Jose, California, they moved them all back to Ajijic, a city in Jalisco, Mexico where mi abuelo owned land and livestock, even a mercado, as I’m reminded periodically when my father and I discuss family. Abuelo trained Arabian horses to dance in the shows there, and there was an instance where he beat my father when he lost one of his prized stallions for the day.

But, my father had a small pet pig.

He has told me this story several times, over the course of my life. I was about fifteen years old when he first mentioned this piglet. We sat in an IHOP, surrounded by his replacement family, my step-mother to his left hand my new siblings around me like bookends made of flesh. I fidgeted in my combat boots and fishnets--a decision made in haste to spite my father--my pale face flushed under the layers of foundation I wore, aware of my otherness compared to the vibrancy of the newly formed clan. The smattering of Spanish and English blended to buzz in my ears, and I felt dizzy.

The first Spanish phrase I remember learning from my father is, “Enrique es mi héroe.”

Despite the ritual retelling of the tale, I never remember how he managed to acquire this tiny ungulate. He never told me what he named it, either

He cared for this pig. He massaged it, bathed it, and fed it corn and cornmeal. After some time passed, the pig grew to a considerable girth and adored my father.

He has told me this story a dozen times.

On his way home from school, my father walked past the town’s butcher, where his gaze caught on an animal skin on display in the window. The skin reminded him of his pet at home, but he did not think much of the coincidence at the time and continued to walk along the cobblestone and dirt roads with the sun beating down on his diminutiveness.

He arrived at the large double doors of his family’s house as the sun dipped low on the horizon, drifting down into the earth. His pig did not greet him in the foyer, and he searched out his mother, who he found in the kitchen. She busied herself with ordering my two aunts, who were old enough to help with household chores, on how to serve dinner. He asked his mother, in Spanish, if she knew where his pig went.

Abuelita only rummaged her hands in her pockets and produced, for a child, a rather significant sum of money and handed it to him. She said something to him to the effect of, “This is your cut.”

Every time my father tells me this story, he says that the only thing he asked her is if he could get another pig. And he laughs.

My father, a man named Enrique--though most of the world knows him by the Anglicized Henry--works at Santa Clara University as the Head of Fire Safety. My parents, at this point, have been divorced longer than they were ever together, and I am the only lasting product of that union. Even the house they purchased together in Santa Clara has since been gutted and remade in the image of my father’s current family. I have scant memories of my parents married, and the few I have are tinged with the haze of sentiment or bitterness. I talk to my father once, maybe, a month by phone. We text more often. Once every couple of weeks, to make sure the other is alive, though I rarely initiate a conversation. If we were to stand side by side, we have the same eyes, the same features, the same unfortunate Roman nose that, while attractive on a man, stands out and appears garish on a woman.

I could be his doppelganger.

We both enjoy trivia and telling bad jokes, and, at times, delight in others’, and our own, misfortune. We’ve also both been emotionally absent in nearly all of our relationships. “Almost no one in our family has ever been married less than three times,” my father jokes, often, slapping me on the back afterward. I point out his older brother who has been married for over 50 years and my dad shrugs.

I visited my father recently with my partner and drove the three-hour trip for a visit that lasted two hours. We sat on the loveseat, Rory and I, backs straight and shoulders stiff as I spoke, my voice high and thready and the sound of it reverberated through the room. My dad nodded along and Rory left for the restroom, abandoning the two of us in each other’s company. My father inquired about my schedule, and I remarked I recounted my work and school schedule. He nodded again, humming along to the tune my words set. I sighed and asked how work was going for him. Last we spoke he confessed to being fearful of getting fired. He assured me things smoothed over. I told him he was just paranoid. He mentioned that my step sister and her family finally moved out of his spare bedroom. I rolled my eyes and exhaled through my nose, the force of it tickling my upper lip. He grew quiet and settled back down into the sofa. By the time Rory returned, my father and I looked at the television screen, where one of his old westerns played. Something with John Wayne, I think. I crane my head to gaze at the photos that lined the walls, out of habit more than sentiment. An old picture of my step-sister, Adriana, the one closest in age to me and who recently vacated my father’s home, at her quinceanera; a couple photos of Esmeralda, my stepmother, from her younger years; their wedding photo, just the two of them; two family portraits from the same day; and my photos are conspicuously absent among the throng of photos that detailed their lives together.

I did go snooping, one time, a few years back, and found my senior portraits jammed behind the printer stand, a thick layer of dust covering the frame.

I never asked about it.

The house, otherwise, still remains the same as it ever was. White walls, muted colors, blinds without curtains, and the laminate flooring that replaced my mother’s polished planks. The living room is neat, tidy. Not too different from how it appears in my old family albums, but a world apart.

My father’s shoes laid against the leg of the coffee table, propped at an angle, and flecks of dried mud dotted the sides of the rubber soles. His glass of water dripped condensation onto the surface of the table on which it rested, creating a ring on the glass. He leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees, and whispered, after he glanced down the hall towards the master bedroom, “Are you guys doing okay with money?”

“God, yes, Dad. We’re fine,” I bit out. Rory nodded next to me and I struggled to keep from sniping at him as well.

He dug through his pocket and pulled his wallet out. He told Rory to move closer and shoved a pile of gift cards into Rory’s palm. He stammered a thank you to my father, the tips of his ears glowing. I crossed my arms and said, “Ditto.” Rory leaned into me, nudging my arm with his elbow and I shrugged away from him and scooted closer to the opposite edge of the love seat, clutching my purse on my lap.

In the bedroom, I heard my niece, Esmeralda’s granddaughter, move around, the bedsprings creaking and the sound of the sheets rustling echoing down the small hallway as she roused herself from sleep. Sixteen years old, she is the daughter of my oldest step-sister, but she resides full time in my father’s house while my sister lives somewhere in Fremont with her younger two children. There, too, are photos of my niece that line the wall opposite of the family portraits. Soccer, softball, school portraits that show the same girl in ascending ages grinning, wide and toothy, at the camera.

Smaller photos, in paper frames, are lower than that from various trips to San Francisco. The type of photos you get after you take the Red and White tours at the Embarcadero out into the Bay and listen to someone drone into a headset, listing the various sites of historical interest and how many people died building the Golden Gate Bridge, that is discarded immediately after boarding the boat because you’ve heard the guided tour enough times to recite it word for word.

I would sit and gaze out the window, the skyline in constant view and wondered what it would have been like for the people who first arrived to San Francisco, to see the city for the first time as they stood above on the deck of the ship, with salt and mist lashing at their cheeks, leaving them inflamed.

Before his new family arrived, and before my father trusted me enough to stick by his side on a trip to San Francisco, we fed the ducks together at whatever park we decided to go to for the day. One--whose name I cannot for the life of me recall--we frequented more than the others. There was a large man-made pond and mallards would flock to it in droves, likely to the dismay of the property owners nearby. My father ignored the signs that I now know tell passersby to desist from giving the ducks bread, and we would go to the nearest 7-11 and he purchased a discounted loaf of Wonderbread and gave me carte blanche to do as I willed with it. This usually involved me eating one slice and then ripping the remaining slices to shreds, laughing when the ducks surrounded me.

One instance stands out more than the others, perhaps because it was the last time we did this, but I cannot know with any certainty as the memory of a five-year-old is fickle: The clouds lay low above us, and the breeze carried a taste of warmth in it. My father’s mustache and beard tried to make another appearance at this time, as they did periodically through my childhood, and he wore his large aviator glasses for his near-sightedness that shielded the eyes that were like my own. We walked along the side of the pond, my pink-clad legs burning as I kept up with his strides. My father picked me up and swung me around over the water. My heart pounded within my ribs and I begged him to put me down, waiting for his grip to slip and struggling to hold onto the sleeves of his windbreaker with my hands that became slick with sweat. He laughed and told me that he saved me when velocity and his arms brought me back into his body. My lungs hurt and I felt like I swallowed sand, but I wrapped my limbs around his torso and felt his hand rub circles along my back, the fingers pressing into the knobs of my vertebrae.

When his then-girlfriend-now-wife moved in with him, we ceased doing anything alone together. Any trip after that needed to involve her children as well, as they all needed to be treated the same. Occasionally, we made it to San Francisco alone. Somewhere, long since lost, there are photos of my father and I, at various ages, much like the photos that hang on his wall today. As we both grew older, along with Esmeralda’s children, the time we had shortened and, eventually, it ceased. I still came over to his house for a while still, but Adriana was involved as well. Sometimes Vicente, the youngest.

There was a night, when I was seven or eight, and we just finished my father’s weekly ritual of scratching off lotto tickets. I won five dollars out of the fifteen or so cards he purchased. The house was still being remodeled, so the floor was scuffed and there were gaps between the rooms in the floor, showing the concrete interior. Outlets were exposed, and I felt the grit of construction dust under my nails every time I went over to his house. I kept my sneakers on, anxious that I would step on a nail, or get a splinter, and I stayed to the one area of the floor that appeared the cleanest. I wanted to go to the movies that night, but no one else wanted to go, or they didn’t want to see the movie I wanted to watch, so we stayed in for the evening and indulged in my father’s whim. At the end of the night, before my dad took me home, he went to hug me but I shrank away and crossed my arms in front of my chest, and wrapped them around my ribs. My father shrugged and hugged Adriana. He turned to me and said, “See, Adri loves me? Why don’t you?”

I didn’t say anything else to him, I just sat down in the front passenger seat in his Honda and waited for him to take me home while I bit the insides of my cheeks, the tang of copper weighing my tongue down.

As a child, I was fraught with emotions that felt too large to be housed in my body that scratched and tore at my flesh and crawled out of my mouth and eyes like serpents slithering down my face and form. More than once, my mother scolded my father for saying the wrong thing to set me off and would spend an hour or so consoling me by rubbing my shoulders as they trembled and shook. He eventually started paying me to tell my mother we had fun.

I took the money and told my mother the truth anyway.

My dad laughs at something on the screen: a baby food commercial. He turns to smile at me, and my face twitches in response, baring my teeth when my lips pull back.

“You know,” he began, “When you were that small,” he cupped his hands in front of his body, “I used to take naps with you just laying on my chest like this.” He leaned against the sofa and patted the center of his torso a couple times. My stomach roiled, the acid sloshing against the lining of the walls, and I nodded, shooting a glance to my partner. His lips twitched. I let out a puff of air. I itched, my clothes tight and bunched around my body. I tugged at them to relieve some pressure, and crossed and uncrossed my legs several times. My hair felt greasy despite washing it that morning and my skin felt heavy. I ran my fingers through my locks to smooth them down and I asked my father if Esmeralda felt alright and we could always leave if need be. He shook his head and stated that she’s just taking her time and last night was rough for her. I hummed and leaned forward, my legs bounced on the balls of my feet as my breath came in several deep inhalations. Across from me, my father sat back, his fingers tapping the beat of an unheard tune. He coughed, every so often. Rhythmic wheezes escaped his mouth as he cleared his throat, while my own tickled in response and I swallowed against the spasms of my diaphragm. The noise that emanated from the television hung in the air, filling the room and clogging my ears with static.

My father refuses to install an air conditioner in the house and chooses to keep the doors open and instead lets the aroma of grass waft through the home, sticking to the walls and furniture.

I swallowed a lungful of summer-perfume air and the band that knotted itself around my esophagus shifted.

Rory moved his hand to my knee and rested it there: a hot weight that clamped onto my leg that I tried to extricate myself from, but then patted his hand with mine for a couple strokes before disentangling completely. I flashed him a smile, a grimace, and scooted a bit further away, the fabric of the loveseat grabbing my pantlegs. The sound grated on my ears and I winced at the racket my body made in the echo chamber living room. Rory said something to my father, and he responded, voice pressed and rushed. He asked questions about work to Rory, asking him if he’s thought about doing IT consulting for the university he works for. I stifled the groan that bubbled up in my throat, and told my dad that Rory’s family lives in the exurbs of Placer County, so it would be hard to move with his family life and my school. He said that he knew, but it was a thought. Business is bigger in the Silicon Valley. I told him my life is in Sacramento.

I can’t keep uprooting myself.

Before Rory and I left, we said our goodbyes to the inhabitants of my father’s house, and he walked with us outside. He shook Rory’s hand, and I let him press me in an embrace. I squirm, my skin prickling while I hold my breath. He chuckled and asked me, “I guess I won’t see you for another year then?”

I shrugged away from him and ducked my head. “We’ll try to get back down here sooner. We’ve just been busy. You know how it is.” I scuffed my shoes against the sidewalk.

He stared at me for a long time, the lines of his face more prominent outside under the sunlight. The light glints off the thinning, greying hair that has started to make an appearance. His eyes followed the contours of my face, and I brought my hand up to smooth back my hair again, my fingers catching on the knots there. I swallowed and laughed and turned to Rory to say we better get going so we don’t get caught in traffic.

Rory turns on the engine to let the air conditioner soothe the balmy interior of the vehicle. The air is thick and clogs my lungs. I turn my gaze out the window as Rory puts the car in drive and creeps away from the sidewalk. The sun washes the landscape out and reflects off the stuccoed exterior of the house. My father forms a stark silhouette against the brightness of his abode. An empty place exists in the front lawn, an indentation with little growth in the otherwise verdant lawn, where the lemon tree he planted to celebrate my birth once stood, its roots growing and coiling around each other for years. Chopped down a couple summers ago because of an infection it got that he didn’t want to spread to the other plants. The hedges that line the house and the roses my stepmother planted years ago bloom and rustle in the breeze, their leaves catch the sunlight as their branches wave along to those who visit, but never step inside.

[lizzy-tudor]

“Maria de Salinas was lady-in-waiting to Katherine of Aragon, and one of her closest confidantes. Although we know little of her origins, she was the daughter of Juan de Salinas, secretary to Katherine’s eldest sister, Isabella, and Josepha Gonzales de Salas. Despite the fact that she was not on the original list of ladies, drawn up in 1500, chosen to accompany Katherine of Aragon to England for her marriage to Prince Arthur, it seems likely that she, and her sister Inez, did come to England with the Spanish princess. She may have been added to the princess’s staff when her mother, Isabella of Castile, increased the size of Katherine’s entourage in March 1501.

Maria was one of the ladies who stayed with Katherine after her household was reduced and many returned to Spain, following the death of Katherine’s young husband, Arthur, Prince of Wales, in 1502. She stayed with the Spanish princess throughout the years of penury and uncertainty, when Katherine was used as a pawn by both her father, Ferdinand, and father-in-law, Henry VII, in negotiations for her marriage to Prince Henry, the future Henry VIII; a marriage which was one of Henry’s first acts on his accession to the throne. Maria is included in the list of Katherine’s attendants who were given an allowance of black cloth for mantles and kerchiefs, following the death of Henry VII in 1509; she was then given a new gown for Katherine’s coronation, which was held jointly with King Henry in June of the same year.

In 1511 Maria stood as godmother to Mary Brandon, daughter of Charles Brandon – one of the new king, Henry VIII’s closest companions and her future son-in-law – and his first wife, Ann Browne. Katherine of Aragon and Maria were very close; in fact, by 1514 Ambassador Caroz de Villagarut, appointed by Katherine’s father, Ferdinand of Aragon, was complaining of Maria’s influence over the queen. He accused Maria of conspiring with her kinsman, Juan Adursa – a merchant in Flanders with hopes of becoming treasurer to Philip, prince of Castile –  to persuade Katherine not to cooperate with the ambassador. The ambassador complained: ‘The few Spaniards who are still  in her household prefer to be friends of the English, and neglect their duties as subjects of the King of Spain. The worst influence on the queen is exercised by Dona Maria de Salinas, whom she loves more than any other mortal.’¹

Maria was naturalised on 29th May, 1516, and just a week later, on 5th June she married the largest landowner in Lincolnshire, William Willoughby, 11th Baron Willoughby de Eresby. William Willoughby was the son of Sir Christopher Willoughby, who had died c.1498, and Margaret, or Marjery, Jenney of Knodishall in Suffolk. He had been married previously, to Mary Hussey, daughter of Sir William Hussey, Chief Justice of the King’s Bench. The King and Queen paid for the wedding, which took place at Greenwich, the Queen even provided Maria with a dowry of 1100 marks. They were given Grimsthorpe Castle, and other Lincolnshire manors which had formerly belonged to Francis Lovel (friend of Richard III), as a wedding gift. Henry VIII even named one of his new ships the Mary Willoughby in Maria’s honour.

Maria remained at court for some years after her wedding, and attended Katherine at the Field of Cloth of Gold in 1520. Henry VIII was godfather to Maria and William’s oldest son, Henry, who died in infancy. Another son, Francis, also died young and their daughter Katherine, born in 1519, would be the only surviving child of the marriage. Lord Willoughby died in 1526, and for several years afterwards Maria was embroiled in a legal dispute with her brother-in-law, Sir Christopher Willoughby, over the inheritance of the Willoughby lands. Sir Christopher claimed that William had settled some lands on Maria which were entailed to Sir Christopher. The dispute went to the Star Chamber and caused Sir Thomas More, the king’s chancellor and a prominent lawyer, to make an initial redistribution of some of the disputed lands.

This must have been a hard fight for the newly widowed Maria, and the dispute threatened the stability of Lincolnshire itself, given the extensive lands involved. However, Maria attracted a powerful ally in Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk and brother-in-law of the King, who called on the assistance of Cardinal Thomas Wolsey, Henry’s first minister at the time, in the hope of resolving the situation. Suffolk had managed to obtain the wardship of Katherine Willoughby in 1528, intending her to marry his eldest son and heir Henry, Earl of Lincoln, and so had a vested interest in a favourable settlement for Maria. This interest became even greater following the death of Mary Tudor, Suffolk’s wife, in September 1533, when only three months later the fifty-year-old Duke of Suffolk married fourteen-year-old Katherine, himself.

Although Suffolk pursued the legal case with more vigour after the wedding, a final settlement was not reached until the reign of Elizabeth I. Suffolk eventually became the greatest landowner in Lincolnshire and, despite the age difference, the marriage does appear to have been successful. Katherine served at court, in the household of Henry VIII’s sixth and last queen, Katherine Parr. She was widowed in 1545 and lost her two sons – and heirs – by the Duke, Henry and Charles, to the sweating sickness, within hours of each other in 1551. Katherine was a stalwart of the Protestant learning and even invited Hugh Latimer to preach at Grimsthorpe Castle. It was she and Sir William Cecil who persuaded Katherine Parr to publish her book, The Lamentacion of a Sinner in 1547, demonstrating her continuing links with the court despite her first husband’s death. Following the death of her sons by Suffolk, Katherine no longer had a financial interest in the Suffolk estates, and in order to safeguard her Willoughby estates, Katherine married her gentleman usher, Richard Bertie.

The couple had a difficult time navigating the religious tensions of the age and even went into exile on the Continent during the reign of the Catholic Queen, Mary I, only returning on Elizabeth’s accession. Katherine resumed her position in Tudor society; her relations with the court, however, were strained by her tendency towards Puritan learning. The records of Katherine’s Lincolnshire household show that she employed Miles Coverdale – a prominent critic of the Elizabethan church – as tutor to her two children by Bertie, Susan and Peregrine. Unfortunately, Katherine died after a long illness, on 19th September 1580 and was buried in her native Lincolnshire, in Spilsby Church.

A widow since 1526, Maria de Salinas, Lady Willoughby, kept a tight rein on the Willoughby lands,proving to be an efficient landlady. Unfortunately, the fact she took advantage of the dissolution of the monasteries in order to lease monastic land; a business arrangement, rather than political or religious, but it still made her a target of discontent during the Lincolnshire Rising.

Maria had remained as a Lady-in-Waiting to Katherine. She was known to dislike Anne Boleyn and, as Henry’s attitude towards Katherine hardened during his attempts to divorce her, in 1532 Maria was ordered to leave Katehrine’s household and not contact her again. By 1534, as Emperor Charles V’s ambassador, Chapuys, described it; Katherine was ‘more a prisoner than before, for not only is she deprived of her goods, but even a Spanish lady who has remained with her all her life, and has served her at her own expense, is forbidden to see her.’²

When Katherine was reported to be dying at Kimbolton Castle, in December 1535, Maria applied for a license to visit her ailing mistress. She wrote to  Sir Thomas Cromwell, the King’s chief minister at the time, saying ‘for I heard that my mistress is very sore sick again. I pray you remember me, for you promised to labour with the king to get me licence to go to her before God send for her, as there is no  other likelihood.’² Permission was refused, but despite this setback, Maria set out from London to visit Katherine at Kimbolton Castle, arriving on the evening of New Years’ Day, 1536 and contrived to get herself admitted by Sir Edmund Bedingfield by claiming a fall from her horse meant she could travel no further. According to Sarah Morris and Nathalie Grueninger, Katherine and Maria spent hours talking in their native Castilian; the former queen died in Maria’s arms on 7th January 1536.³ Katherine of Aragon was buried in Peterborough Cathedral on 29th January, with Maria and her daughter, Katherine, in attendance.

Maria herself died in May 1539, keeping control of her estates to the very last. She signed a copy of the court roll around 7th May, but was dead by the 20th, when Suffolk was negotiating for livery of her lands. Her extensive Lincolnshire estates, including Grimsthorpe and Eresby, passed to her only surviving child, Katherine and her husband, Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. Maria’s burial-place is unknown, though there is a legend that she was buried in Peterborough Cathedral, close to her beloved Queen Katherine.”

[a-very-fond-farewell]

The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 25/?

Gaming Chat AU [xuexiao + songxiao = ?]: “Lie to Me”

[tw cyber bullying; tw use of slurs; tw fake suicide mention; there’s a redemption arc, but it starts with 15yo Xue Yang being... well, himself I guess. so be warned.]

[attn!: I don’t know shit about playing games and going to quests with strangers on the internet so bear with me. if you feel inspired by this please, by all means, feel free to use this prompt and write something and then tag me so I can read it and reblog it!]

[enjoy!]

*

It’s been 15 years since that idiotic intern at the school counseling center suggested him to... what did he say? “Channel his anger in something productive”. And then tried to talk Meng Shi into purchasing a fucking computer to let him “get off some steam” by killing fictional people instead of smashing actual valuable objects like, say, the principal’s Mercedes with a stolen golf club, or, the nurse’s desk with a fire extinguisher back in middle school.

Good thing Su She had disappeared under mysterious circumstances after Xue Yang had surreptitiously let the intern’s uni professor know in a detailed email how the aspiring counselor had suggested him (a sweet innocent 15 year old) to use his new computer to watch porn instead of focusing on his studies. Song Lan was much better than him, and bitchier too, which was fine by Xue Yang anyway. Not that he cared.

What good had that stupid glorified television brought him in the end? Most of the computers at school had become intimately familiar with many a malware and virus already with how frequently he used to browse through the deep web. The ones at the local library had let him in on the secrets of 4ch*n since the tender age of 8. Hell, even his pediatrician had made the glorious mistake to leave him alone in her office one merry day of winter when he discovered the wonders of x-rated videos.

But Meng Shi had tried to cheer him up anyway, buying him that stupid thing. Working her ass off at the bar trying to make social services forget she used to be a stripper back in the days. All to provide a place for children in foster care to feel safe, the stupid hag. Xue Yang wasn’t fucking stupid, he knew she was collecting money for every kid ever stepping inside her ratty flat. He knew that she would have never adopted anyone for real because she already had a son and she was working to send him to university anyway.

Yet, she had come home one day with a big smile on her youngish and bland face, hoisting up the heavy computer in a box, and told Xue Yang to share it with his siblings. Yeah, fuck that. That little bitch A-Qing was even worse than him, and she probably used to sell feet-pictures recycled from the internet to disgusting men online. To this day Xue Yang is none the wiser and he doesn’t need to know what that fucking witch had been up to at 14. XuanYu would have used the computer to stream and torrent shit nonstop to sell at school even if he was only, like, 12. Qin Su was 15 like him and she would have been tempted to set up a fucking YT channel and subject him and XuanYu to whatever scientific experiment she would have come up with. And Meng Yao had too much embarrassing blackmail material on Xue Yang already, he didn’t need to have access on his erased search history after digging gods-knows for how long.

Ahah no. No thanks.

But detention got him occupied for so long by cutting library books pages down to papermen without getting bored out of his mind. And he did have his fun that one time when he caught a pervert with a hand down his pants when they chatted on Om*gle after Xue Yang had catfished him good by pretending to be a girl. Got everything on tape and published the whole interaction on the school website for everyone to see. Which had been appropriate at the time, given that the man had been part of the board of directors. Fittingly hilarious too.

Still, boredom loomed over him like a quilt of sadness on summer break and he had been tempted to log in and play games in the end. Nobody wanted him in their stupid ass teams anyway, with him having higher kill counts than them and all, not following tactics and so on. Whatever.

Until one day user shuan_ghua naively trusted Xue Yang when the other assured him that “teabagging“ was just a fancy slang for ordering a cup of jasmine tea. The 17 year old boy named Xiao XingChen had thanked him for teaching something new to him and then proceeded to ask him to join his one-man-party out of fucking nowhere.

Everything changed after that.

[more under the cut. it’s long long tho]

XXC family!:

XXC is 17 at the beginning of the story and he used to live with his mother Baoshan [i know that “Sanren” and “Daoren” are titles, but in absence of a real surname I will use them as such for this prompt. feel free to change that if you take inspiration from this post to write your take on the story] and the rest of their family on a mountain before they moved back to the city in Gusu.

XXC’s mother was barely 20 when she got married the first time and her first son Daoren YanLing was born. two years later her husband died and she travelled a lot afterwards, adopting 4yo CanSe when she was 25. then she married again at 41, had XXC at 44, and then divorced at 48.

CanSe eloped with ChangZe when she was 18 and got WWX at 20, the same year her own mother got married again (at 41).

BaoShan got XXC three years later (at 44).

hence, WWX is 3 whole ass years older than XXC despite being his nephew. both boys find the thing absolutely hilarious.

YanLing and CanSe are only 1 year apart and they still bicker nonstop. both of them went to school with Lan QiRen and his older brother and frequently got in fights back in the days at Gusu.

(if YanLing had a thing for Lan QiRen, well, nobody has to know)

XXC, being the baby of his family, is doted on by YanLing and brought to mischief by CanSe until XXC’s father divorces their mother and they move on the mountain along with ChangZe and 7yo WWX.

up on the mountain BaoShan works as a tour guide and she takes baby XXC and WWX on hikes along with tourists to admire the beauty of the scenery.

XXC’s sight starts deteriorating when he is 12 and WWX is 15. they have been homeschooled until then, so when it gets clear XXC will not improve much so far away from proper healthcare, the whole family moves back to the city in Gusu.

XXC is not comfortable leaving his new home, not with all those new noises and flashing lights. WWX is drawn to them instead, more than happy to enroll in school, where he meets JC and he realizes the boy is the son of CanSe’s middle school boyfriend. WWX declares them to be almost-brothers and is perfectly fine with adopting even JC’s older sister in the family and CanSe can only laugh at that. JC and YanLi visit XXC often as a result and they help him make sense of the new environment without stressing him too much.

YanLing finds a job as a cook in WWX’s school and he is back to making Lan QiRen’s life impossible after learning the man is a teacher there.

LWJ and LXC’s mother is a music teacher there as well and YanLing bonds with her to make Lan QiRen life’s an absolute nightmare.

LWJ and LXC make friends with the mountain gremlins and they are initially horrified by their manners: XXC would pick food from the ground and eat it, it doesn’t have to be his for that to happen to begin with; WWX doesn’t realize he should cut his nails (both for his feet and hands) until he is forced to wear shoes outside and not climb up trees, for he assumed nails simply never grew bc he used them constantly, wearing them down; etc.

LWJ hates himself for falling for WWX but he cannot care less.

LXC notices how lonely XXC feels when wangxian becomes a thing, so he buys him a computer to better gather more information about the world and adjust the settings to maximum accessibility whenever XXC wants to read something.

by the age of 17 XXC is mostly left alone in the house: WWX goes to uni; his mother BaoShan works at a local museum; his brother YanLing is trying to not get fired at his job; and his sister CanSe has started to travel with her husband selling the delicate dizi flutes ChangZe makes as an artisan.

XXC is also on the waiting list for an important eye surgery and he figures he has a couple of years to go before he will either lose his sight or be granted a second chance at life altogether.

XY’s family!:

Meng Shi had Meng Yao at 19 and started stripping the following year in Yunmeng.��

her friend SiSi helped her both financially and emotionally, spending time with A-Yao while she worked at night. after four years she can move out of her flat and finds a job as a bartender downtown. she would have kept her old job, if SiSi hadn’t convinced her to think of A-Yao first, who was painfully shy and didn’t know how to socialize with other kids his age.

at 24 she starts the paperwork to become a foster parent and has to child-proof her entire apartment before the first kid arrives. at 25 she welcomes Qin Su, who is only 5, and initially A-Yao doesn’t want to share his mother with anyone. the situation gets bad to the point social services have to take Qin Su away one year later, because she tried to set A-Yao’s hair on fire in retaliation once, but two years later Meng Shi gets her back.

A-Yao, now 9 years old, has thought about it and reasoned that having a sister wasn’t so bad after all. Qin Su is only one year younger than him and she will not take up much space, right? wrong. but they bond over their shared nerdiness and while A-Su likes to blow things up, A-Yao helps his mother with taxes every year.

at 29 Meng Shi takes in XuanYu, who is not an orphan like A-Su, and still misses his birth mother fiercely. she had to give him up for adoption when he was 3, because she had been only 15 when XuanYu was born and her family threatened to disown her. 

being profoundly deaf on top of that, no foster home wanted to have him and he was kept in the system for three years after his mother had to let him go. the woman had tried to be present for him while he waited for a family to pick him, teaching him sign language and reading lips, but she had been forced to eventually let go.

XuanYu arrives at Meng Shi’s when he’s 6. A-Yao (10yo) and A-Su (9yo) try their best to involve their new brother, but they don’t know how to communicate with him. SiSi takes the children to sign language classes at the community center after school and XuanYu warms up to them. he teaches Meng Shi what they learned the previous day every morning, before going to school. teachers don’t really pay attention to him, but he manages by reading lips when people face him properly, which is a rare occurrence, but he tries his best.

when A-Yao and A-Su realizes A-Yu is being bullied, they start to get nasty, setting backpacks on fire and terrorizing the other children at school. even when they move to middle school one after the other nobody picks on A-Yu, fearing what his siblings could do.

XY arrives at Meng Shi’s when she is 32 (A-Yu is 9, A-Su is 12, A-Yao is 13) and XY is 12. A-Su initially gets jealous bc they are the same age, but XY doesn’t talk to anyone for a year and ignores her attempts to rile him up. Meng Shi had been warned about him: his father had killed his mother and then failed to kill himself afterwards... and XY still believed the man was out there, looking for him to finish the job. XY had lived on the street for years before social services could find him, but he had felt trapped like a dog, not wanting to be touched, frequently running away.

XY doesn’t remember much of his life before entering foster care. he only knows everything is a bother, that his nightmares give him constant migraines, and that he doesn’t care how he lost one of his fingers. but anyone who makes fun of him for that gets kicked, that’s for sure.

it’s only when A-Qing (12) comes one year after XY’s arrival that things get a bit better... so to speak. 

she is even less well behaved than him, thrashing around at night, screaming at the top of her lungs, saying that she doesn’t want to be there. that she’s better than the rest of them combined. 

her anger issues trigger something in XY and the two of them get into fights with each other constantly.

A-Yao (14) and A-Su (13), reminiscing of the 2 years they spent apart because they couldn’t stop hitting each other up, take the issue seriously and convince Meng Shi to ask for help. SiSi is the one taking A-Qing and XY to therapy two times a week and they are followed through by professionals who know how to tackle their issues, an elderly woman who goes by the name of Lan Yi (LWJ and LXC’s paternal grandma) and her assistant Wen Qing, an intern working there for uni credits.

one year later XY is 14 and A-Qing is 13 and they... don’t really love each other, but at least they can talk to one another without trying to kill anyone in the process. they spend a lot of time with A-Yu (11) and learn sign language to keep him entertained.

by the age of 35, Meng Shi has 5 kids and can barely afford food for herself but she is happy like never before. A-Yao (16) is already considered smart enough to attend advanced math classes in high school. A-Su (15) has won a science competition sponsored by city hall. A-Yang (15) is trying to work on his anger issues with video games, making friends online. A-Qing (14) doesn’t let anyone make fun of her for her dyslexia, asking adults and classmates to take her issue seriously for once. And A-Yu (12) wants to learn how to sign in different languages to maybe travel the world one day.

Meng Shi is very happy indeed.

now, the plot: (tw fake suicide mention; tw use of homophobic slurs)

XY (15) and XXC (17) meet online every night before bed, playing video games together. XY made a mistake first time they chatted, saying he was 17 instead of 15 bc he didn’t want the other to look down on him.

XXC trusts him a little too much and doesn’t question if his new friend is lying to him or not. he’s the funnies person he has ever met, after all.

WWX (20) notices something is wrong by the way XXC starts speaking around others, using inappropriate language when he has never been anything but polite and gentle. even if, technically, XXC is WWX’s uncle, the latter sees the other more like a cousin than anything else given that he’s older. so he takes the matter in his own hands and one day asks him to let him play games with him.

XY doesn’t like his only friend not telling him someone else would have joined their party, and initially he covers XXC in insults and threatens to leave. but then WWX is really good at killing fictional people and XY reconsiders. he makes fun of WWX for being the older one AND the other’s nephew at the same time, but aside from that he doesn’t try to run away like a caged animal anymore.

WWX trust XXC when the younger says XY is 17 like him, but he still supervisions most of their sessions just to be sure XY cannot teach too many horrible things to XXC. WWX wants XXC to make more friends and maybe one day leave the house to attend university if the other will feel inclined to do so, but he doesn’t pressure him.

in the meantime, XY changes counselor at school and it is Song Lan (23) who tries to make a better human out of him. SL is deaf and occasionally uses cochlear implants to hear, but only because his family made the choice for him to have surgery when he was only a child. he can speak if he feels like it at times (not frequently, he’s very adamant about reminding others he doesn’t owe them anything. he’s also trying to make a change at the school where he works by organizing classes on Deaf culture and sign language for the students to take as an elective)

XY already knew of SL thanks to XuanYu, bc A-Yu had seen the counselor at the community center where SiSi usually takes the kids to for sign language classes. counseling at school doesn’t really happen one-on-one, detention kids being too many to follow one at a time and all, but when SL comes by to chat with them he’s always funny as fuck and XY (who will never admit it) feels good about being the only one in class able to understand SL only through sign language.

SL forces himself to talk to the kids and read their lips only bc... well, they’re young and did nothing wrong to him. he occasionally asks XY to help him translate, but aside from that there are really too many kids to look after and he doesn’t treat XY differently from the others, nor he notices him much.

two years pass and XXC (19) announces to XY (17) that wangxian (22) is having their wedding. since XY has learned all about their family, he asks XXC if it’s a common thing to get married super young in their household and XXC laughs... but it’s a sad and brittle thing and XY gets a bit worried.

XXC reveals then that soon after the wedding he will have a surgery to (hopefully) fix his sight and he’s very anxious. he timidly asks XY if he wants to go to the wedding with him, because he would like to see his face at least once before the surgery.

XY panics: he knew XXC’s eyesight was bad, but he never knew to what extent exactly; he’s not really of age yet, so he cannot move on the other side of the country just to attend a wedding; he has never talked specifically about XXC with his family and Meng Shi is working a lot and A-Yu should get his hearing aids soon and A-Qing needs help for her finals and... and...

...and he’s not ready to meet XXC.

XY lied to him and told him they’re the same age. he had never told XXC his name, even if the other had revealed his own, always going by his username jiang_zai. he called him and chatted with him and made fun of his own family and the other had been nothing but kind and amazing and... and... and XY realizes he’s been in love for a while and he abhors the idea to the point where he openly laughs at XXC and calls him a sap.

XXC notices the change in his tone immediately and wonders if he’s overstepped, if he’s asked too much by inviting the other over to celebrate with the rest of the family. XXC apologizes to XY and begs him to not step away like he usually does when he feels cornered.

XY feels absolutely cornered and attacks XXC by asking him why he’s so keen on asking him out (“are you a f*g or something?” etc.). the other doesn’t even know what that means but hearing XY so scared hurts, bc he doesn’t want to make the other uncomfortable in any way.

XXC does like XY romantically, but would never dream to say anything and hinder their friendship. yet, it hurts more to hear his only friend so afraid and angry. he apologizes profusely and promises him not to bring the subject back.

after that, XY doesn’t log in much, avoiding XXC. A-Yao (18) notices he’s sullen and tries to spend more time with him, but the younger doesn’t budge and talks less and less. even SL (25) sees XY less and less, but he doesn’t thinks the younger one is actually skipping classes or anything.

but XY is, in fact, skipping school and Meng Shi covers for him saying he doesn’t feel well enough to go to class. she knows something’s up and she also understands the need to have days off in order to take care of yourself when everything goes to shit.

wangxian wedding happens and XXC is both happy and sad. they made him the official photographer of the day, which is both sweet and incredibly hurtful, because he’s the one taking all those beautiful pictures... and maybe he will never be able to look at them ever again after the surgery. WWX and LWJ already had to organize the wedding earlier than what they originally planned to accommodate XXC and the date of the surgery. XXC feels bad but he’s very happy for them.

YanLing and CanSe worry about him and they ask their mother to help them figure out what’s going on. BaoShan agrees with WWX that XXC had a fight with a friend, alright, but that cannot be all, surely...

it’s the week before XXC’s hospitalization and WWX takes the issue in his hands. logs in pretending to be XXC and plays until he takes XY’s place in the rankings of his and XXC’s favorite game.

XY receives notifications about it and initially fumes at the idea of being outranked, but then he understands what XXC is trying to do and doesn’t know how to react.

he does something horrible instead.

WWX waits to be contacted by this jiang_zai boy who broke XXC’s heart, but when it finally happens... it’s not the familiar, high-pitched voice he expects to hear in the chat. it’s a girl (A-Qing), who tells him her brother had died and that he won’t be playing games anymore. she sounds too serious to be joking and WWX tries to ask more about it... but she just tells him her brother killed himself before ending the call.

WWX doesn’t have the heart to tell this to XXC, not before the surgery and not until he has properly recovered (one year later).

XXC had wondered about XY in silence, not trusting himself to reveal all about his crush to his family, worrying about making the other boy uncomfortable. 

XXC misses XY, but he is patient. he can wait.

A-Qing had agreed to lie for XY only because he lied to her first: he told her a creep on the internet had tried to meet with him and he needed a way out; outraged, A-Qing had helped him without a second thought and answered the chat in his place. 

this spurs her to take more seriously what she and her siblings had been doing on the Internet and reconsiders some of the things she herself posted in the past. she will take this topic so much at heart that she will pursue an academic career to become a social worker.

XXC’s surgery goes well, but he still loses his sight after a while. WWX ends up telling him what happened to his online friend and XXC is so heartbroken he doesn’t even blame WWX for keeping the secret from him for so long. 

after some time BaoShan makes sure he goes to therapy and takes better care of him, helping him figure out what to do. she fears people will look down on XXC and, as a blind person, he will probably be hindered by the system to pursue a career, so she retires from her job at the museum and focuses all of her attention on him.

XXC feels guilty for XY’s passing, but he doesn’t think the other had been triggered to commit suicide bc of him: XXC simply fears XY had hid a different type of sorrow from him; a pain so deep that XXC had failed to see while they were playing silly games. so, three years after the surgery, when he’s 21, he enrolls in uni to study psychology to help kids who are struggling to ask for help.

15 years after XXC and XY had met online:

XY is 30 and a professional carer. he studied to become a nurse, of all things, after what happened. he got a lot of time to think about the horrible thing he had done to XXC and considered helpings others to atone for that.

he is the first to say such a choice was very out of character for him, and even if he has to bite his tongues at times he doesn’t mind his job: it keeps him occupied and exhausts him well enough... but after working in the hospital for 5 or so years he decides to become a carer and trains to help disabled people in particular in his late twenties.

A-Su (30) has become a chemical engineer and married a man working as a lawyer (who happens to be LXC), while A-Yao (31) ends up moving in with his best friend (NMJ). A-Qin (29) doesn’t find romance interesting enough to give up on her career as a social worker, so she doesn’t really move out of Meng Shi’s old flat and everyone is fine with that. A-Yu (27) has graduated from uni and travels the world as an interpreter. Meng Shi and SiSi have lived together since the first has adopted all the kids and they opened a B&B near the seaside. they are wives and very in love.

XY lives with A-Qing in Yunmeng until his late 20s and they fight a lot for stupid things (like when A-Qing makes fun of the boring people her brother hooks up with on the regular, or when XY tries to coerce her to do the fucking laundry by tickling her into a pulp of pain and tears), but otherwise they work well together.

A-Qing is working at the community center as a social worker to help the kids find purpose in life and use the internet safely. she still believes a creep had tried to mess with her brother and doesn’t want anything to happen to the kids under her care. XY knows this, but never got around to tell her the truth, believing it would have been pointless to reveal her how everything she knew had been a lie. even her own purpose on top of that.

A-Su’s husband (LXC) rarely got to speak with XY in person, the latter busy with his job as a nurse most of the time, but during a dinner party LXC has to suddenly leave because of an emergency: his brother-in-law had been brought to the hospital after a car crash and lost the use for both of his legs.

one year later, XY (29) coincidentally becomes WWX’s personal carer and decides to move closer to the man’s house in Yiling since it would be troublesome to help him as efficiently otherwise. XY does not recognize WWX (34) from his voice or name (he did play games with him in the past, sure, but he knew him as XXC’s nephew by the name of Wei WuXian, not Wei Ying, which is the name LWJ uses around him) and helps him around the house and out of it.

WWX’s husband (LWJ) is frequently out of the house to work as a lawyer like his older brother and entrusts WWX to XY, even if begrudgingly so. 

WWX pretends to be fine, but he has a tendency to try to sneak out and walk on crutches without anyone noticing, so LWJ has asked for a carer to come to their house every day. XY doesn’t have to bite his tongue as much around WWX, their interactions easy enough for the both of them to work together despite bickering about the stupidest things.

XY discovers WWX is friends with Wen Qing (37) (the same intern who helped the psychologist take care of XY and A-Qing while they sorted their shit out in the past). 

he meets her and learns from her how WWX’s family had moved in Yiling to help him recover after the crash. her brother Wen Ning is the physiotherapist helping WWX regain control of his legs, but there are basically no chances for him to go back to be a professional athlete even if he were to walk once more.

this new information spurs XY to force WWX to rest more and take his situation more seriously. they work together to find possible solutions and WWX decides that he would much rather have his legs cut off from the knee down that suffer through the pain of having multiple fractures splitting him apart day after day. the surgeons had done their best to save his legs, but the fractures had compromised his nerves maybe forever and the pain is now unbearable.

LWJ trusts his husband but he’s weary at the idea of having him evaluated for amputation. XY refuses to feel responsible for the tension in the house, since this is clearly what WWX wants. XY knows WWX is secretly considering running again on prosthetic legs in the future, but he doesn’t want to anger LWJ more by mentioning it. it’s too soon to know anyway, and who is he to tamper down what little hope WWX has managed to harbor for himself after an entire year drowning in grief?

one year later WWX (35) gets permission from his physician to get prosthetic legs fitted for his needs and he couldn’t be happier. his family visit him more frequently now to congratulate him, even his grandmother who has descended from the mountain where she retired to in order to celebrate him.

XY (30) has already met WWX’s parents and his oldest uncle, but he never suspected them to be related to XXC, because he had never knew them by name. 

yet, one day Song Lan (38) comes in with a huge backpack on his shoulders and recognizes XY immediately. XY doesn’t know why his old counselor is there: he knew WWX’s other uncle was coming over, but he never imagined it was SL they were talking about. 

SL is beaming at him, signing he met XY’s bother A-Yu during one of his travels as a tour guide and that they kept in touch. SL has come to know XY is the reason behind WWX’s recovery and he tells the younger man that everyone in their family is happy XY has appeared in their life.

XY doesn’t have time to answer, overwhelmed with this sense of belonging, this sense of being finally, finally accepted somewhere outside of his own family... that someone else enters the house with a backpack on his shoulders.

XY doesn’t know the man and SL enthusiastically guides him over to meet the newcomer. XY is surprised to hear SL speak out instead of using sign language as the older man asks “A-Chen” to come meet “his nephew’s savior”. based on the pronouns SL has just used, XY recognizes the newcomer to be WWX’s actual uncle and he smiles at the beautiful man in front of him...

...only to be filled with horror the minute the other speaks.

XXC (32) greets XY without knowing who he really is, smiling at him without even recognizing the younger man’s voice. the two of them had never seen each other, playing games only through chats and calls... but XY recognizes XXC immediately, aware that his own voice has changed drastically over the years.

XY is still transfixed and petrified when XXC asks him if it would be okay for him to touch his face to have a better idea of who he’s interacting with. XY doesn’t even register himself voicing his consent when he feels XXC’s hands on his face. only then he understands the infamous surgery had failed and that XXC did not regain his sight after his nephew’s wedding.

overwhelmed with grief, guilt and longing for what never was and never could be, XY is unaware of the tears rolling down his cheeks as XXC gently trails his features. XXC apologizes when he feels his palms dampening and he asks XY if he overstepped. next to them SL is distressed, not understanding what’s happening in front of him.

XY shakes his head and simply says... that he lost someone and that XXC reminded him of that person. then he excuses himself looking for WWX, to ask him to give him something... anything to do. he gets himself a task to accomplish and leaves the house brimming with relatives that he will never be able to call his own.

1 year later:

XXC and SL do not leave the city as they originally planned. they have travelled long enough for the time being and they decide to get a house close to WWX and his husband. they spend the following year after their return looking for stability and peace.

XY (31) didn’t stop working for WWX (36) and doesn’t plan to. not now that he got his new legs finally fitted. the recovery takes long, but it’s already been two years since the amputation now and WWX tries his best every day. he believes to be a handful and doesn’t dare ask for things he needs after receiving the prosthetics. XY is there to loudly remind him to stop being an idiot and that he is paying XY to boss him around however the fuck he wants. LWJ is very grateful to hear WWX laugh more and more these days thanks to XY.

XXC (33), however, is frequently around his nephew’s house, keeping him company. before his three-or-so years of traveling with his boyfriend SL, XXC has briefly worked as a psychologist with Wen Qing, of all people and the two of them have applied for a position at the community center in Yunmeng at the same time. there isn’t one available in Yiling and the commute shouldn’t be too bad. during that first year after his return, XXC has met A-Qing multiple times to inquire for a place at the center in Yunmeng and they are quickly becoming more involved with each other because of their shared passion for the job.

XY feels the end nearing, time ticking away. it had been an agonizing, brilliant, terrible year the one he had spent so close to XXC... and it is now coming to an end. knowing that A-Qing will eventually tell XXC how and why she became a social worker, spilling everything about how “her pitiful bastard of a brother had been molested by a pervert online” and so on. he only hopes A-Qing will never get to meet WWX... she would absolutely recognize the other man’s voice and accuse him of being the pervert in question and XY... XY will die.

XY feels trapped and he will most certainly have a stroke the moment XXC will realize that he lied to him, that he is still alive, that his reason to become a psychologist to help troubled kids was not a real thing... XY will die and Meng Shi will cry.

only because he lied about being 17 when he was 15 one day of 16 years ago.

XY disappears the same night XXC tells him he invited A-Qing over. SL (39) is overjoyed at the idea of meeting the girl once more after the time she and her step-siblings used to go to sign language classes at the community center in Yunmeng. WWX is interested as well, having heard all about A-Qing from XY along the years.

but XY disappears anyway.

2 years later:

it’s XuanYu (30) who finds him, but doesn’t ask him to go back home. A-Yu takes XY (33) with him in his travels for some months to hide him. he doesn’t ask him what he did in those two years, but he does force him to call Meng Shi and SiSi at least.

XY complies but still feels empty inside. the single year he had spent with XXC while the other visited WWX will be permanently engraved in his memories and he cannot stop thinking about it. about how gentle XXC had always been with him, how sad he had looked and sounded reminiscing an “old online friend who had died many years back”, how generous he had always been towards him and everyone and... and XY cannot do this anymore.

A-Yu may be younger than him, but he protects him well for those months... waiting for XY to tell him the truth. so one winters night finally XY does, starting from the beginning.

the following week, close to New Years, XY realizes A-Yu had betrayed him.

someone rings the bell of their shared apartment and A-Yu asks him to go open the door. XY does and it’s A-Qing (32) and WWX (38) who greet him with tears in their eyes. A-Qing tackles him on the ground and tries to hit him they way they used to do as kids, fists getting the point across faster than any word ever could, but WWX pries them apart and hugs them instead.

somehow, XY had not been notified of having acquired a new sibling, but WWX clearly considers him a brother of sorts and he had missed him greatly. A-Qing explains that A-Yu had sent her an email with XY’s version of the truth, sure... but she also tells him that she and WWX had solved the mystery soon after XY’s disappearance already, after talking extensively on the matter.

A-Qing had recognized WWX as the person she had talked to in chat all those years ago, that is true, but she also realized WWX was not, in fact, a bad person and that something didn’t add. when she understood who XY’s online friend actually was... she had felt sick to her stomach for having let someone as kind as XXC presume XY had killed himself bc of him.

hurt and confused, XXC’s family and even A-Qing’s one had initially blamed XY for the pain he had caused, the lot of them filled with anger and grief. especially BaoShan, who had felt guilty for not supervising and protecting her younger son better when he was still too naive to understand the ways of the world.

but then, seeing XY was not coming back, Meng Shi and SiSi insisted for XXC’s family to help them with the search instead. after two years the lot of them missed him. yes, even those who still berated him for his poor choices in life.

XXC now knows the truth and only wants XY to come back home.

some days later:

XXC opens the door after hearing the bell and he knows, he knows who the person in front of him is. he already had his suspicions back when he used to visit WWX every day two years back. WWX’s carer reminded him so much of his friend that... that he may have hoped.

but now XY is back and he has a name and a face and is alive and XXC greets him with a smile as the other hugs him and never lets go.

XY has never been happier in his entire, miserable life.

and XXC will never lose sight of him ever again.

the end.

[now imma go weep for fucking ages. also fuck typos.]

[layce2015]

The Last Of Us (Joel x Reader)

Chapter 1: The Beginning of The End

Here's Chapter 2

"Tommy, I-- Tommy. Tommy listen to me, he is the contractor." I hear Joel's voice say, alittle louder as he enters the house. My eyes flicker open as Joel lowers his voice as he talks on the phone. "He's the contractor, okay? I can't lose this job. I understand...let's talk about this in the morning, okay? We'll talk about it in the morning." 

I yawn then look down to see Sarah was laying next to me, her head on my lap, fast asleep. Until Joel flicks the lamp, next to the couch, on. She jumps slightly and yawns, as well, as she starts to sit up. Earlier today, she and I had a girl's night as we pigged out on pizza and watched movies since Joel had to work late. She insisted to stay up late so that she could give him his birthday present that she got him. I told her that that was fine, but we ended up falling asleep.

"Alright, goodnight." Joel said and he hangs up and sets his cellphone on the little table in front of the couch. "Hey." I greeted my husband as I scoot down for him to have room on the couch to sit down. "Fun day at work, huh?" Sarah asked as Joel sighs and leans back in his seat and places his left arm around my shoulder while running his right hand over his eyes.

"What are you still doing up? It's late." He asked Sarah. "It's my fault, Joel." I said as Sarah turns and looks up at the clock. "Crud. What time is it?" She asked as she looks up to see that it was ten minutes to midnight.

"It's way past your bedtime." Joel said, exhausted. "But it's still today!" She said then she looks over at me. "Can I give it to him?" She asked. "Go ahead, sweetheart." I replied and she smiles, gets down on the floor and crawls over to the end of the couch. "Honey, please not right now. I do not have the energy for this." Joel said, exhausted still.

"Joel..." I said as she stands up and holds out a box to him. "Here." She said. "What's this?" Joel asked as he takes the box. "Your birthday." Sarah and I replied. He smirks at us as he removes his arm off of me and opens the box, revealing a brand new watch inside. 

"You kept complaining about your broken watch...so I figured, you know." Sarah said, shrugging, as Joel takes the watch out of the box and puts on his new watch. "You like it?" Sarah asked him as she looks up at him.

"Honey, this is...." Joel said then he lifts up his arm, raising his watch to his ear. "What?" Sarah and I asked him. "It's nice but I--I think it's stuck. It's not..." Joel started to say as he stares at the watch and Sarah freaks out as she grabs his arm to look at the watch. "What? No, no, no, no." She said, frantically, but she and I see that the watch was working just fine. "Oh ha, ha." Sarah said, sarcastically, and Joel chuckles at his little joke.

"Joel, don't scare us like that." I said as I playfully slap his shoulder and Sarah goes and lays down on the other side of the couch. "Did she beg you for the money?" Joel asked me. "No, a friend of mine paid her. He said he had a little job for her to do." I joked. "Yeah, I sell drugs now, dad. Hardcore drugs." Sarah said, going along with the joke.

"Oh, good. You can start helping out with the mortgage then." He said as he leans forward, picks up the TV remote and turns the TV on. "Stsh--yeah, you wish." Sarah said while Joel sits back in the couch and I cuddle up to him as he places his left arm over my shoulder again. I kiss his cheek and watch TV with him.

****

About an hour and a half later, I look over and see Sarah had passed out once again and I smiled. "Looks like someone's out like a light." I whispered and Joel looks over at her. The both of us stand up and I turn off the TV as he goes over to her, picks her up and carries her up to her bedroom, I follow close behind.

Once we enter her room, Joel sets Sarah down on her bed and I pick up her blanket and drape it over her. "Goodnight, baby girl." Joel whispers as moves a strand of hair away from her face. He takes a few steps back as I go over and kiss the side of her head. "Sleep tight." I whispered and both of us head for our bedroom.

I change into some sleeping clothes and climb into bed next to Joel, who had turn the bedroom TV on. "Suddenly not tired?" I asked him. "Just need something to lull me to sleep." He replied as cuddle up to him, once more. "Mmmm." I hummed as I look up at him. He looks down at me then we began to kiss each other.

We have a little make-out session for a few minutes but I stop before it went too far. "As much as I would love to go further, I have to go to work in a few hours. So..." I said to him and he nods. "It's alright. Maybe tomorrow?" He asked. "We'll see." I said as I wink at him then give him one more kiss. 

"I love you." He whispers to me.

"I love you too." I said then I lay my head against his chest and let myself fall into a slumber, the noise of the TV sounding further and further away.

I guess I should explain who I am. My name is (y/n). I met Joel a few years ago at a coffee shop I work at. He came in the shop, one day, with his daughter, Sarah, and they ordered their drinks. While waiting, he and I, suddenly, just started to have a conversation and talked about everything and anything. From then on he and Sarah would come in almost every day in the afternoon and talk to me.

From what Sarah told me, she knew Joel had an interest in me and she kept trying to get him to ask me out. She told me that she had never seen her dad looks so happy, not since her mother. The only thing I know about Sarah's mother was that her and Joel had Sarah when they were young and they got married soon afterwards. But her mom left him a few years after their marriage, they divorced and Joel got custody of Sarah. Joel's never gotten into much details about it and I never pushed it as to not upset him.

But anyway, Sarah kept bugging her dad to ask me out on a date. He, at first, refused but eventually he did ask me out. After dating for a couple of years, Joel then asked me to marry him and, of course, I said yes. Few months later, we got married and now here we are about a couple of years later, and I couldn't have been happier. And even though she's not my biological daughter, Sarah feels like she's my own and I love her to death. Life was great!

But little did I know that our lives were gonna change forever...and not for the better.

****

"Mom? Dad?" I hear Sarah's voice call out. I groan as I open my eyes to see that the TV was left on and Joel was nowhere to be found. The bedroom door opened and Sarah walks in. "Mom?" She said as she enters. "Sarah? What's wrong, sweeite?" I asked her as I rubbed my eyes.

"Where's Daddy?" She asked, worriedly. "I don't know, sweetheart. I just woke up myself." I said as sit up. "Uncle Tommy called. He said he needed to talk to dad but the line cut out." Sarah said just as the news comes on.

It appears that what we initially reported as riots: seem to be somehow connected to the nationwide pandemic. We've received reports that victims afflicted with the infection show signs of increased aggression and-

But then someone behind the reporter interrupted her and said, firmly. "We need to move everybody out of here now." 

"That's nearby." Sarah noted as the reporter said. "There seems to be some commotion going on behind me."

"Get out of here!"

"Lady, get the hell outta here right--" an officer was saying when suddenly an explosion goes off right on the TV. The scary thing was that we heard and saw the explosion, some miles away, just outside our window. "What the hell?" I muttered as I get up out of the bed and run to the window to see a second explosion go off. "Oh God!" Sarah exclaims and I run over to the closet open the door and start to change into jeans and a t-shirt, the door was wide enough to cover me.

Once I changed, I go over to Sarah and grab her hand. "Let's go find your father." I said as we walk out of the room.

"Dad?!" Sarah calls out.

"Joel?!" I yelled as we went down the stairs. At that moment, about four or five police cars zoomed pass with their sirens blaring. "What the heck is going on?" Sarah asked. "I don't know." I muttered as we walked towards the kitchen, where I hear a buzzing sound. I look and see Joel's phone is on the counter.

I go over to his phone and picked it up to see that he had eight missed calls and tons of text from Tommy, his brother, who sounded worried and panicked. 

Where the hell are you?

Call me.

On my way.

"I don't like this." I muttered as set his phone down then we go over to the study room to see if Joel was in there. I open the door to the room when Joel runs in from the side door, that leads to the backyard. He sounded like he had ran a marathon when he shuts the sliding door and backs away from the door.

"There you are." I said to him and he turns to me. "(Y/n). Are you and Sarah okay?" He asked, almost in a panic. "Yeah." I replied, confused at his behavior. "Has anyone come in here?" He asked as he goes over to his desk and digs around in the drawers.

"No." I replied.

"Who would come in here?" Sarah asked as her and I walk closer to him. 

"Don't go near the doors. Just...just stand back there." He ordered and we take a few steps back. "Dad, you're kinda freaking me out." Sarah said, nervously. "Joel, what's going on?" I asked him as I could see that he had pulled out his gun case and was loading his pistol with some bullets.

"It's the Coopers. Somethin' ain't right with 'em. I think they're sick." He replied. "What kind of sick?" I asked him when suddenly a loud thud hits the sliding glass door. Sarah and I jump at this as I hear growls and screams coming from outside. Then I go and push Sarah behind me as Joel looks out the door. "Jimmy!" He yells.

"Dad?!" Sarah screamed.

"Joel!" I exclaimed in fear as Joel goes to stand in front of us. "Girls, c'mere, c'mere." He said and we get behind him. "Jimmy." Joel said again as I could see someone slamming theirselves against the door until the glass breaks and Jimmy burst through.

"Jimmy, just stay back." Joel ordered as Jimmy falls forward but as he gets up, I could see he was covered in blood and there was blood coming out of his mouth. He also looked crazed, like he had lost his mind. "Jimmy. I am warning you." Joel warned just as Jimmy gets up.

"Oh my God." I muttered when Jimmy runs towards us. "Don't!" Joel yelled but Jimmy doesn't stop running towards us. But before he could get to us, Joel fires his gun and shoot him, killing him. Sarah gasps and sobs at this as I exclaimed. "Holy shit!"

"Go. Go." Joel said to us and we run back towards the kitchen. "Y-You shot him..." Sarah said to Joel, devastated. "What the hell, Joel?" I asked in a panic. "Girls." Joel said as he looks between us.

"I saw him this mornin'." Sarah mutters.

"Listen to me, there is something bad going on. We have got to get outta here. Do you two understand me?" Joel asked us and we nodded at him just as I saw headlights coming up our driveway. "Tommy. C'mon." Joel said as he takes my hand in his and I take Sarah's and the three of us run out of the house.

We run outside to see Tommy walking out of his SUV, walking towards us. "Where the hell you been? You have any idea what's goin' on out there?" He asked Joel. "I got some notion." Joel said as we run to the door to the backseat and he opens it. "C'mon, girls. Get on in there." He said and I gestured to Sarah to climb in first. "Go on, sweetie." I said and she gets in first then I climb in. 

Joel shuts the door behind me as Tommy gets a better look at his older brother. "Holy shit. You got blood all over you." He exclaims. "It ain't mine. Let's just get outta here." Joel told him as he climbs into the passenger's seat. "They're saying half the people in the city have lost their minds." Tommy said as he climbs in the driver's seat.

"Can we just please go?" Joel asked him. 

"Some sort of parasite or somethin'. You gonna tell me what happened?" Tommy asked. "Later." Joel replied then Tommy turns his head to me and Sarah. "Hey, Sarah. (Y/n). How you girls holdin' up?" He asked us. "I'm fine." Sarah replied as Tommy backs out of the driveway. "Me too. Can we hear what's on the radio?" I asked him.

"Yeah, sure thing." He replied. 

"Thanks." I said as Tommy tries to turn on the radio but the stations were all silent. "No cellphone. No radio. Yeah, we're doin' great." Joel grumbles as Tommy continues to drive down the road. "Minute ago, newsman wouldn't shut up." Tommy said to him. "They say where to go?" Joel asked. "He said, ah... Army's puttin' up roadblocks on the highway. No gettin' into Travis County." Tommy replied as we come up to a two-way intersection.

"That means we need to get the hell out." Joel mutters just as Tommy stops the car and looks at the road signs. "Take 71." Joel instructs him. "71, that's where I'm headed." Tommy said just as some cop cars roar pass us. After they pass, Tommy takes a right turn and heads towards the city.

"Did they say how many are dead?" I asked them. "Probably a lot. Found this one family all mangled inside their house." Tommy replied then Joel looks over at his brother. "Tommy." He said in a low tone as I place an arm around Sarah's shoulder, who looked a little horrified. "Right. Sorry." Tommy said, apologetically. "How did this happen?" Joel asked. 

"They got no clue. But we ain't the only town. At first they were saying it was just the South. Now they're going on about the East Coast, the West Coast..." Tommy replied and I gasp as we come up to a farmhouse that was on fire. "Holy hell." Tommy mutters in shock. "That's Louis' farm." I said as we pass the house. "I hope that son of a bitch made it out." Tommy remarks. "I'm sure he did." Joel assured.

"Are we sick?" Sarah asked them. "No. No, of course not." Joel said, quickly. "How do you know?" I asked him. "They said it's just...ah...people in the city. We're good." Tommy replied. "Didn't Jimmy work in the city?" Sarah asked and Joel and Tommy look at each other. "That's right, he did." Joel said. "We're fine. Trust me." Tommy assures as we come up to what looked like a family, on the side of the road.

"Let's see what they need." Tommy said as he starts to slow down but Joel places his hand on his shoulder. "What the hell do you think you're doin'? Keep drivin'." He said, firmly, to Tommy. "They got a kid, Joel." I pointed out to him as I place my hand on his shoulder. "So do we." He replied as he turns his head to look at me and placed his hand over mine. "But we have room." Sarah said.

"Hey!" One of the passersby shouts as he comes up to the side of the road, waving his arms above his head. Joel turns his head to Tommy and said. "Keep drivin', Tommy." And Tommy does just that.

"Hey, stop! Stop!" The man yells as we pass him.

"You ain't seen what I seen. Someone else'll come along." Joel said as he strokes his thumb over my hand. "We shoulda helped them." Sarah mutters.

Finally we make it into the city, only to find traffic was jammed. "Oh, this is bad. Everyone and their mother had the same damn idea." Tommy said as he stops the car. "Well...we could just backtrack and--" Joel started to say when a motorist gets out of his car, that was in front of us, to complain at the cars ahead of him.

"Hey, what the fuck, man? Let's go!" He screams just as a crazy person sprints forward towards the man and begins killing him.

"Holy shit." Tommy said in horror while I gasp in fear. "Oh my God." Sarah gasps. "Turn us around. Tommy. Tommy." Joel exclaimed as the crazy person looks over at us. "Holy shit." Tommy shouts and he starts to back up, just as the crazy person starts running towards us, then takes off before the guy could get to us.

"What the fuck just happened? Did you see that?" Tommy asked Joel, fearfully. "Yes, I saw it." Joel replied in shock. "Damn it. Turn here. Turn here." He instructs as he points to a side road. Tommy turns onto it, only finding it flooded with escaping citizens.

"Come on, people. Move." Tommy said, frustrated, as the people run in front of his car.

"What are they runnin' from?" Sarah asked me. I shrugged and shook my head as Joel says to Tommy. "Get us outta here."

"I'm tryin'." Tommy said as he starts to drive ahead but stops when he almost ran over a guy. "We can't stop here, Tommy." Joel said. "I can't fuckin' drive through 'em, Joel!" Tommy yells at him, frustrated. "Then back up then!" screamed Joel. "They're behind me too!" Tommy yells just as I saw a clearing up ahead.

I point at it and said. "There! There!" 

"Hold on!" Tommy said and he gets around the obstructing motor-home. "Look out!" Sarah screams and I look to my left just in time to see us get t-boned by a high-speed vehicle.

****

I open my eyes, my vision unfocused then I see that the vehicle was on its side. I look around just in time to see Sarah coming to then I look up in front of me to see Joel was still in his seat. I reach over and shook his shoulder. "Joel? Honey?" I said and I hear him groan as he shakes his head. "What?" He groans then he sees the predicament we were in. "Get back, baby. Get back. Look. I'm okay..." He said as he turns to look at me.

I nod and he faces the windshield, raised his left leg and kicks at the windshield until it breaks. He crawls through and gets out. I start to crawl out when I heard a struggle then I see a body fall on the ground and Tomny's foot steps on his head. "Joel?!" I yelled, fearfully. "I'm here, baby. I'm here." Joel assured me as he kneels down. "Come on, gimme your hand." He said as he holds his hand out to me. I take it and climb out of the car then turn around and reach out for Sarah.

"Come on, sweetie." I said as he and I pull her out and she starts to stumble as she stands up. "What is it?" Joel asked her. "My leg hurts." Sarah replied. "How bad?" I asked her. "Pretty bad." She said and Joel and exchange worried looks.

"We're gonna need to run." Tommy told us. Joel looks over at Sarah then to Tommy before he hands him his gun. "You keep us safe." He said and Tommy nods as he takes the gun. "Come on, baby girl." He said to Sarah as he picks her up and carries her.

"Now hold on tight." He told her and wraps her arm around his neck. "Okay. Daddy, I'm scared." She said, fearfully, as we began to run down the street. People all around us were either running or screaming or getting attacked by these infected people. 

"Guys---watch out!" Tommy screamed just as we come up to a gas station, which explodes once a car runs through one of the gas pumps. "Oh my God!" Sarah squeals. "Holy shit!" I yelled as we run off to the side. "Keep running!" Tommy yells at us as he runs ahead of us.

"Those people are on fire." Sarah noted and I look over my shoulder to see that she was right. "Don't look, Sarah." I said to her. "Okay." She said and buries her face into Joel's shoulder. "Just keep looking at me, baby." Joel told her and she looks up at him.

It seemed no matter where we went, something was always blocking our way or vehicles were crashing into buildings. "Get back! There's too many of 'em." Tommy yells at us then he looks to his left. "This way! Through the alley! Go!" He exclaims and he goes and opens the fence door.

We run through it when an infected person comes up and grabs Joel. Sarah screams as I pull the person off of them and shove him away while Tommy shoots it in the head. "Shit." Joel exclaimed as Tommy looks over the person he just shot. "Dammit." Joel grumbles then he looks down at Sarah again. "We're almost there. We're almost there, baby." He assured as we continue to run through the alley.

"They're gettin' through the fence!" Tommy yelled and he looks behind him. "Keep going! Find a way outta here!" I yelled at him and he runs ahead of us and leads us to the back end of a bar.

Joel, Tommy and I run inside and Tommy shuts the door and leans against it. "Get to the highway!" He yells at us. "What?" I asked, confused. "Go -- you guys got Sarah! I can outrun 'em!" Tommy yells.

"Uncle Tommy!" Sarah screams as Joel and I exchange a look.

"We will meet you there." Joel said to him. 

"Hurry!" Tommy yells as we run out the front door. "Daddy, we can't leave him." Sarah exclaims as we run out onto the dirt road. "He's gonna be fine. We're almost there." Joel assured her as we run towards the highway bridge, which was up ahead.

"They're gettin' closer!" I screamed after I look behind me to see a couple of infected people chasing us. As I turn to look ahead, a bright light shines in our faces and gunshots sounded out. We stopped running, the two infected people behind us falls, then look up to see that it was a soldier.

"It's okay, baby. We're safe. We're safe." Joel assures Sarah then he looks up at the soldier. "Hey! We need help." He tells the man as we take a few steps forward. "Stop!" The soldier orders. "Please. It's our daughter. My husband and I think her leg's broken." I said to him as I come up to Joel's right side.

"Stop right there!" The soldier yells as he aims his gun at us and we stop walking. "Okay...we're not sick." Joel informed the soldier. The soldier lowers his gun, picks up a radio and begins to speak through it. "Got three civilians in the outer perimeter. Please advise."

"Mom...Dad...what about Uncle Tommy?" Sarah asked us. "We're gonna get you to safety and go back for him. Okay?" Joel said and I push back her hair from her face. "Don't worry, sweetie. We'll find him." I assured her as the soldier speaks through his radio. "Sir, there's a little girl. But..." he stops then let's out a heavy sigh. "Yes, sir."

"Listen, buddy, we've just been through hell. Okay, we just need--" Joel started to say but he and I see that the soldier was raising his gun at us. "Oh shit." Joel mutters and we try to back away and run as the soldier fires and we fall down the hill.

I felt a sting on my shoulder and felt something warm run down my arm as I stop and land on my back. I look to my right to see Joel had landed next to me just as the soldier follows us and stands over Joel. He aims his gun and light at Joel, who raises his hand to the soldier. "Please, don't." He begs when a gunshot sounds out and the soldier falls over dead.

I gasp just as I look over to see Tommy was the one who shot the soldier. I sit up and place my hand over my shoulder, feeling a long scratch on top of my shoulder, then pulled back my hand to see it covered in blood. "Baby, you okay?" Joel asked me. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just a graze on the shoulder. Where's Sarah?" I asked then we heard a cry of pain. 

We turn around to see Sarah was a few feet away from us and squirming in pain. "Oh no." Tommy and I whispered as Joel and I scramble towards her. "Sarah! Okay. Move your hands, baby." Joel said as he moves her arms to see that she was shot in the stomach. "Oh my God!" I gasped as Sarah cries out in pain

"I know, baby. I know..." Joel said as I go and place my hands over her wound. "Listen to me, I know this hurts, sweetheart. You're gonna be okay, sweetie." I try to assure her. "Stay with us. Alright, I'm gonna pick you up." Joel said but she screeches out in pain as he tries to pick her up. "I know, baby. I know it hurts. Come on, baby, please. I know, baby. I know." Joel said in a panic as we try to stop the bleeding.

Joel looks over at Tommy and was about to say something when suddenly Sarah stopped crying. I look down at her and noticed that she wasn't even breathing. I gasped as Joel looks back down at Sarah and saw that she wasn't moving or breathing either. 

"Sarah...sweetie..." I said as I go and try to feel for a pulse, but I don't feel one. I place my hands over my mouth as I felt tears down run down my face. "Don't do this to me, baby. Don't do this to me, baby girl." Joel begs her but she doesn't move or say anything. "Come on...No, no...Oh no, no, no...Please." he begins to break down crying then hugs Sarah's body as I close my eyes and bury my face in my hands. "Oh, God. Please, please, don't do this. Please, God..." I hear him cry, softly, while I prayed silently. 

God, please, not her. Take me instead! Please! I'm begging you!

[chuffyfan87]

Its Not Me Is It? Part 2

Set during Series 24, episode 46 "Nice And Easy Does It."

-x-

Duffy sighed as she walked quickly through the airport to the taxi rank whilst attempting to keep hold of everything she was carrying. The clothes she was wearing were not helping either. When she'd left Auckland it had been mid-Winter but upon landing she'd discovered that it was a wet but humid Summer's day in Holby. She'd left in a hurry, though, organising things as quickly as possible after receiving the letter from Megan. She just hoped she'd made it here quickly enough to see her dear old friend one last time.

Finding an available taxi she got the attention of the driver. "Don't move while I talk to the man." She told her companion before giving the driver the address and her luggage to be placed in the boot. She then got into the back of the taxi, ensuring they were both securely strapped in before they began the journey to Megan's house.

About half an hour later they pulled up outside the address. Duffy got her belongings from the boot and then took the child's hand, leading them to the door. "This is aunty Megan's house." She told the youngster before addressing the young woman who opened the door. "Hi. My name's Lisa Duffin. Can I see Megan please?"

"Of course. She's in the sitting room." The care worker replied leading them through.

"Duffy?!" Megan gasped, her voice sounded quite weak but she smiled broadly.

"Hi Megan. How are you?"

"Still hanging in there." Megan replied sardonically. "Who's that with you?" She asked, referring to the small child that hid behind Duffy's legs.

"Ah... Yeh... Peter would only keep an eye on the boys." Duffy mumbled.

"That still doesn't answer my question Duffy..." Megan replied.

Duffy sighed and crouched down. "Charlotte say hello to aunty Megan."

"Hello." The three year old whispered.

"Hello pet, aren't you a little poppet?" Megan smiled before turning her gaze on Duffy. "Has your mummy been keeping secrets?"

Duffy avoided Megan's pointed look, busying herself with removing her daughter's coat, brushing her hand over the little girl's light red curls.

"We've exchanged letters for years, why did you never mention that you'd had another child?" Megan asked.

"It's complicated." Duffy sighed.

"Would you like a biscuit pet?" Megan asked Charlotte.

The little girl looked up at her mum who nodded to say it was OK. She hurried over excitedly to look in the tin that Megan held out.

Now that she was closer Megan took the opportunity to take a better look at the child. Blue eyes, red/blonde curls and freckles. "Who's her father Duffy?" She asked, deciding to cut straight to the point.

"That's the complicated bit..." Duffy replied.

"I thought it might be." Megan mulled things over for a moment. "There must be a reason you didn't mention anything about her in your letters... Could it be that you were afraid I might say something..?"

"Megan..."

"And the fact you called her Charlotte..."

"So? I gave her the first name Charlotte and the middle name Megan because I wanted to use the names of two of my best friends." Duffy replied, beginning to become defensive.

"Her eyes are nothing like yours so they must come from her father. A man with blue eyes and curly hair..."

"Megan please! Just drop it." Duffy begged.

"I take it Charlie doesn't know?" Megan asked.

"Charlie doesn't know what?" Came a voice from the doorway.

Duffy's head dropped into her hands.

Charlie's gaze fixed on the little girl at Megan's side so he didn't initially spot his best friend. "You found a new friend?" He asked, his jaw dropping slightly as the child turned to look at him, flashing an impish grin that was oh so familiar... "Hi, I'm Charlie. What's your name?"

"My mummy calls me Charlie too!" Charlotte giggled.

Charlie turned just in time to see Duffy hurrying out the room towards the garden.

"Mummy!" Charlotte called out, her bottom lip wobbling.

"Hey, it's OK. You stay with Megan while I have a little chat with your mummy OK? I'll bring her straight back to you. Promise."

Charlie caught up with Duffy in the garden. "This doesn't look much like Auckland." He observed, trying, and failing, to fully keep the sarcastic tone from his voice.

"Megan wrote to me. I had to come back to see her. I wasn't sure I'd ever get the chance to again if I didn't."

"You have a daughter?" Charlie asked, changing the subject.

Duffy nodded, barely holding back tears.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why didn't you tell me Megan was dying?!" Duffy shot back.

"She wrote you a letter."

"Which took over a month to arrive. When I saw the date on it I was terrified I'd arrive here to find I was already too late. We spoke two weeks ago Charlie! You could have told me then." The tears started to roll down her cheeks.

"And you could have told me about your daughter."

"I tried to!"

"When? I think I'd remember that conversation."

"Everything was so chaotic after you left. I threw myself into running the clinic. I hadn't been feeling well for sometime but I dismissed it. Then I collapsed whilst visiting some patients in one of the rural villages on a blistering hot day. That's when I discovered I was seventeen weeks pregnant. I panicked but a couple of weeks later I screwed up the courage to call you. I needed your support, I was terrified after what happened with Paul. It wasn't you who answered though. She didn't say her name but I'm guessing it was Maggie. As soon as I heard her voice I knew I couldn't tell you. Couldn't ruin your happiness."

"She's mine?" He asked, more to confirm what he'd suspected the second he'd laid eyes on the child.

"Of course she's yours! I'm not so careless that I don't know the identity of the man who fathered my youngest children!" She blurted out angrily.

"What did you say?" He questioned, shocked. Had he heard her right?

"Nothing. Just... Please, just leave it. I just want to spend some time with Megan." She begged, trying to push past him to head back inside.

He blocked her path. "Oh no you don't. You said 'children', I want to know what you meant by that."

She attempted to push past him again. "Just move out of my way!"

"You're running away... We both know what that means!"

"You think you know me so well but really you don't know anything!" She retorted.

"So I'm quickly discovering. How many more secrets you hiding?"

"Maybe if you weren't so wrapped up in your precious Maggie then you'd know!"

"What the hell are you going on about? Maggie and I have been over for ages." He blurted out.

"What?! So all this time you've let me think..."

"You presumed! You were so happy for me, I didn't want to have to admit I'd screwed up again, just like every other time." He sighed.

"You made me look like an idiot!"

"How the hell do you think I feel right now?"

"You're the one who walked out without saying goodbye. You should be thankful I still speak to you after that!"

"I explained why I did that. I told you I was sorry." He sighed before his temper flared again. "That doesn't explain your other lies! How long have you known?"

"You say you were sorry but I was tired of history repeating itself. Tired of being your plaything when you'd had a few too many and couldn't find a better offer." She retorted, avoiding his questions.

"You were pretty quick to say yes on all those occasions so don't try playing the innocent, injured party Duffy coz it doesn't suit you!"

"I have every right to feel injured. You seduced me and then pissed off without a word!"

"I seduced you? I think you'll find you practically threw yourself at me!"

"You cocky arsehole!" She spat, the sound of her hand slapping his face reverberating through the air between them.

"Duffy! What the.?!" He stammered, his hand reaching up to rub his throbbing cheek as Duffy stormed past him and back into the lounge.

"Sweetheart it's time to go." She told Charlotte who was sat on Megan's lap looking at a book "I'll come back later." She mumbled, unable to meet Megan's eye.

"Duffy..." Megan sighed as the younger women picked up her daughter and prepared to leave.

"Not now Megan, please! I... I just can't do this right now. I'm here for a few days. I promise I'll come back." Duffy sighed, her eyes full of tears before she turned and left the house.

The front door slammed as Charlie reentered the lounge from the garden, his hand still rubbing at his cheek, his head spinning trying to take in everything that had happened since he'd arrived at Megan's only a short while ago. He sighed as he saw the unimpressed look Megan was aiming in his direction.

"Sounds like you've been a bit of a naughty boy Charlie..!" She remarked sarcastically.

He sighed once more as he removed his hand from his cheek, revealing an angry red mark.

"I've no doubt you deserved that at the very least." Megan commented unsympathetically.

"Good to know whose side you're on without knowing any of the facts." He muttered.

"The fact that she turns up with a child I knew nothing about and then you two have a blazing row in my garden kind of speaks for itself Charlie."

"Well you weren't the only one that didn't know." He sighed, sitting down on the sofa, his head in his hands.

"I presumed that might be the case given her caginess when she first arrived."

"I mean once is bad enough but twice? How did things end up so screwed up between us that she couldn't tell me?"

"Twice?!"

"Ah... Yeh... I... Um..." He stammered.

"I think you'd best start from the beginning Charlie..."

Charlie sighed, he feared this was not going to end well for him...

He tried to explain that they had been drunk both times, that they hadn't meant for it to happen, that he'd kept his distance from her afterwards because he feared that she would be angry and upset over what had happened between them and he didn't want to make things worse.

"You were a married man Charlie!" Megan admonished, referring to the first incident he'd described.

"Barely. My wife had pissed off to Canada and was on the verge of asking me for a divorce!"

"Makes no difference Charlie! Duffy was married then too or did that not enter your thoughts either?"

"You make out like it was all so one sided. She wanted it just as much as I did. She was the one who came to my house not the other way around!"

"It's bad enough that you were stupid enough to sleep together but to not use protection just beggers belief!"

"We were drunk." Charlie sighed.

A few moments of silence descended. Megan shook her head in disbelief. "So that's how you fathered Paul, what about Charlotte?"

Charlie took a deep breath and outlined what had occurred in Cambodia...

"So let me get this straight..." Megan remarked as he finished. "She was really upset so rather than encouraging her to talk about it and providing her with friendly comfort you decided that the best idea was to bed her and then leave without a word the next morning to jump on a plane back to England?"

"When you put it like that it sounds really bad but it wasn't like that..!"

"Oh really?" Megan scoffed.

Charlie raised his hands in defeat. "OK, OK, it probably is as bad as it sounds."

"Hmm... So what are you going to do to fix it?"

"You honestly think this is fixable?" He sighed.

"It's going to take a lot of hard work but if you care about Duffy as much as I suspect you do then it's something you need to do." She fixed him with a pointed stare. "Those children deserve a father Charlie." She added.

Charlie ran his hand through his thinning hair and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I don't even know where they're staying. For all I know she's on her way back to the airport as we speak."

"I highly doubt that."

"I don't." Charlie muttered. "So what do you suggest I do? Visit every hotel in Holby til I find them?" He asked sarcastically.

"It'd be a good start." She replied.

He looked at her aghast. "You're actually serious aren't you?"

"I did say it would take a lot of hard work to fix. You've got to put the legwork in if you want to make things right again Charlie."

Charlie stood up and walked over to his old friend. "I'll try my best." He replied as he gave her a hug. "Wish me luck." He smiled sadly.

"You don't need luck. Just let her speak and actually listen to what she says."

Charlie nodded and headed out the house to his car. He drove around for over an hour as he slowly crossed off hotels from his list. He had yet to find her and there were only two possibilities left...

Half an hour later he was back in the town centre having tried the last two hotels he could think of and finding nothing. As he approached the traffic lights he knew he had to make a decision - left, towards home, or right? Suddenly, out of nowhere, a voice in the back of his mind told him to turn right. The road took him down towards the marina. As he drove along he felt like such a fool, of course! Why had he not come here first?

He parked his car and headed inside.

"Charlie Fairhead! Well, well, seems today is quite a day for blasts from the past turning up in my establishment." The old lady behind the counter observed dryly.

"Doris you've barely aged a day since I last saw you!" He smiled.

"You always were a charmer!" She chuckled. "I'm presuming your appearance here is connected to the two guests that arrived earlier today?" She asked.

Charlie nodded. "Can I go up and see them?"

"She seemed quite distressed when they arrived. I was about to take a cup of tea and some toast up to her as she barely ate a thing at dinnertime. Why don't you take it up instead? She's in room four. I'm sure she'd much rather see you than me." Doris smiled, sliding the tray towards him.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." He mumbled as he took the tray and headed up the stairs.

Reaching the door he took a deep breath and knocked.

Several moments passed before the door opened a crack, the lights inside the room dimmed.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Duffy hissed.

"Doris asked me to bring this up to you." He replied, gesturing to the tray.

She opened to door just wide enough to take the tray from him. "Thanks. Now piss off!" She went to close the door again but Charlie jammed his foot in it.

"Duffy, please! We need to talk." He implored.

Duffy sighed, damn those baby blue eyes of his! "Just talk!" She replied as she opened the door to let him in...

[wouldadepressedpersonmakethis]

tier i

When a sorcerer kidnapped and murdered the Queen of ____________, the King went full psycho and had all of the sorcerers in the kingdom put to death b/c he deemed them to be a danger to society ... even though they had lived in harmony up until that point. 

There’s basically three different groups ATP, seventeen years later. There are those who agree w/ the King and believe that sorcerers are too powerful and dangerous and should be killed. 

Those who believe that there are good and bad sorcerers, just as there are good and bad people and that they, as a whole, do not deserve to be persecuted for the sins of others

Those who believe that sorcerers should rule and that normal people are inferior to them. Some want them to suffer as they have. 

EMILY BLUNT (taken by kate aa) new Queen of a country divided, knows she needs to unite them, somehow!!!! murdered her father for the throne, over the years, he’d been driven insane w/ grief over his dead wife, michelle never believed, even as a child, that his extreme way of dealing with the problem was the answer, since then she saw him grow more and more unreasonable and the only way she could save her people was to kill her dad! was NOT an easy thing for her to do, despite this, and the guilt weighs heavily on her, always wanted to be queen but nOT like this, was born and bred to put her country before anYTHING ELSE, being a woman, she wasn’t the first in line (even though she was the eldest), recently discovered that she is a sorceress but has told no one, unsure of her abilities! her new discovery has only made her even more determined to resolve the persecution of her people but she knows that she is on thin ice! many people already suspect her of fowl play re: her father and brother and she needs all the support she can get to make any real change, her younger brother was next in line but she didn’t have faith in him, either: he had always been irresponsible and impulsive, didn’t have it in her to kill him but instead cast a spell upon him so that he does not remember who he is and exiled him to the furthest reaches of her kingdom, everyone believes that he is dead, michelle is the first queen to ever rule w/o a husband, means to abolish the law that she needs a man by her side but she knows that most of the country would see the throne pass to her uncle vs. see her sit the throne alone, that being said, she realizes that she may need to compromise to keep her position ... she is currently hosting LEONARDO DICAPRIO, a king from her neighboring nation, with the prospect of forming an alliance w/ him

CHARLES DANCE (reserved by kate aa) uncle to mdocks, suspects that she murdered his brother and/or nephew, pretends to harbor a great love for his older brother now that he’s dead (even though he considered killing him, himself, for the throne) means to prove that mdocks killed him (whether it is true or not) plans to prove that her sisters were in on it, too and seize the throne for himself (or at least, implicate keira knightley. he is confident that he could easily rule through alexis bledel). 

KEIRA KNIGHTLEY (taken by lizzy) - princess, witty, clever, flirtatious, impulsive, loves to have fun! can def be a little self-centered, upset over the death of her father and brother but pretends that she’s fine!!!!!!! (she isn’t) engaged to toby stephens, would have hATED that idea a few years ago but now she knows that her sister needs all the support she can get and an alliance with stephens would be a good thing!!!!!! also hopes that her marriage with stephens might be enough to spare alexis having ot marry at all!!!!!! alexis is the (1) person that she consistently thinks of before herself!!! once secretly had a thing with matthias but when he asked her to run away with him, she literally laughed in his face???!? and was like haha as if i’m a princess and ur nothing???? but tbh afterwards realized how much she loved him but now she’s lost him so that’s fun!!!! pretends she doesn’t care about that, too, but that’s not true at all!!!1 

ALEXIS BLEDEL (open) - princess, beth march vibes! super sweet and kind but quiet and shy!!! has severe social anxiety!!!!!!! would rather die than talk to you!!!! only feels comfortable around her sisters, knows that the alliance with xavier sameuls is her duty but tbh marrying him (or anyone) terrifies her!!!!!!!!!!!! wishes she was braver like her sisters, doesn’t realize the strength she does has!!!! thinks she’s worthless a lot of the time, super talented!!!! with the piano and drawing and singing (altho she doesn’t like to sing for anYONE) needs a self confidence boost!! likes animals more than people, her uncle scares her

DAVID OAKES (taken by lizzy)- son and heir of one of the wealthiest families, probably a noble, def a womanizer and terrible flirt, doesn’t have a filter and doesn’t care to get one anytime soon, the bane of his father’s existence, hates his parents and his sister but would DIE for julian morris in a heart beat, can be a real asshole!!!!! will say mean things to your face, says it is because he’s just That Honest but really its only because it is easier for him to be mean than kind, alicia vikander’s social climbing father keeps trying to push her on him and honestly he would marry her in an instant!!! loves her spirit and her snark and basically everYTHING about her!!! she doesn’t love him back though and he doesn’t blame her, know she can do better, doesn’t stop him from flirting with her???? doesn’t honestly think anything will ever come of it, for sure doesn’t wanna force her 

JESSICA CHASTAIN (open) sister to david oakes and julian morris, a PIECE OF WORK!!!! Extra™ secretly a sorceress (although how she keeps anything a secret is beyond me?!??!? about as subtle as avelina beaumont tbh) thinks her brothers are idiots, recently came into contact with mads mikkelson and is his #1 supporter, has become a spy for him (although again not sure how good she is b/c she isn’t subtle??!?!!) probably a little insane??? in love with michael fassbender dESPITE the fact that he is just a normal human, secretly trying to figure out to ~give~ him abilities so that they can be together in mad’s future world, wants to murder dominique mcelligott 

JULIAN MORRIS (taken by kate aa) sweetheart!!!!!!! super caring and affectionate, a little awkward sometimes but tries his best, has feelings for hayley bennet but doesn’t know how to act around her, his family wants him to marry amanda seyfried. has always been a man of duty! so he’s trying to court her but his heart isn’t in it, brother to jessica chastain and david oakes, loves both of his siblings a lot!! definitely closer with david ... gets a little ??!? @ jessica sometimes but definitely thinks she’s harmless #facepalm 

ALICIA VIKANDER (open) sister to tom hardy, middle class, father wants to marry her off to rich man??? possibly david oakes, hates the idea of marrying him!!! hates him tbh!!!!! best friends w/ joanna vanderholm/super protective of her! something of a lady during the day but a badass sorcerer hunter at night! in pursuit of mads mikkelson, super smart and capable!!! knows her father will disown her if she doesn’t marry but honestly doesn’t care???!? can take care of herself. 

TOM HARDY (open) brother to alicia vikander, cynical/grumpy, speaks in grunts, hates the world, thinks most people aren’t good, his sister is one of the few exceptions to this rule, grew up educated/in the middle class and his father kept trying to get him to marry well/pushed him towards the two older staffords but tom honestly disliked both of them and definitely had nO intention of ever being a royal, sick to death of his father tbh and one day just picked up and leFT, looks like he will kill you but actually a cynical cinnamon roll, loyal only to himself and his sister, gun for hire, has no idea that his sister is a sorcerer hunter on the DL, knows she’s super capable but wouldn’t want her putting herself into danger, saves his money and hopes to be able to help his sister secure her freedom, doesn’t want her to ever have to marry to support herself! heart eyes @ louisa  

RACHEL MCADAMS (open) - middle class, thief, con-artist, trying to catch leonardo’s attentions (but also his money), pretending to be a wealthy noblewoman from another country, in reality she is little the daughter of prostitute and a serial killer? 

NICOLE KIDMAN (open) -  upper class, was once an extremely sought after young lady, but she ran away with josh harnett against her father’s wishes, living with him in poverty was a huge culture shock but she was so happy!!!!!!! one day though, she came home to find her husband with blood on his hands ... he had killed his own brother in the line of duty. nicole knew that his brother would never harm a fly!!! and she couldn’t believe that josh was capable of doing such a thing. left him immediately and returned home!!!! since then, her father has been trying to marry her off properly ever since but no one wants her now that she’s been married and divorced. super sad. misses josh crowe every hour of every day. doesn’t know what she did to make him leave her

XAVIER SAMUELS (open) - upper class, brother to nicole kidman and amanda seyfried, enaged to alexis bledel, loves her a lot and always has tbh, honestly sees no downside to marrying her!!??? he knows that marrying a princess would bring honor and prestige to their family and he hopes that w/ that, would come more possibilities for nicole to remarry and be happy!!!

AMANDA SEYFRIED (open) - younger sister to nicole, a little spoiled but sweet, best friends with alexis bledel, they get along b/c amanda loves to talk and alexis loves to listen, talks up her brother a lot, hopes that alexis will marry him and they will be sisters!!!! knows her dad would like her to marry julian morris, has no interest in him at all!!!! finds him to be dull and boring. was initially irritated by james mcavoy flirting with her but has recently decided that she likes him, too. or at least, she is enjoying playing hard to get. acts like she loves julian morris to make him jealous. 

MADS MIKKELSON (open) -a sorcerer who is trying to find all the other sorcerers to protect and train them and then basically enslave all ~normal~ humans while he rules the world and lets them live in the same fear and isolation as he’s lived his entire life! 

LUPITA NYUNG’O (open) - direct poor, servant, secret sorceress, was discovered by mads mikkelson, basically adopted by him, he is training her!!! the first person in her life to treat her like a human!!! loves him so much!!!!!! was initially skeptical about his plans but has come around! he’s the best person she knows and she trusts him completely! 

LEONARDO DICAPRIO (taken by lizzy) insane!!!!! the WORST!!!! became king of his small country a few years ago and has already drained it of its resources!!!! has come to propose to michelle dockery! hoping that they will unite their two countries into one and she can help his country financially and he can help her but being a man at her side/allow her to rule. he honestly has no intention of letting her take the reigns but he will let her think whatever she likes until that point. infatuated with scarlett johannson and means to make her his mistress once he’s married. 

JAMES MCAVOY (open) prince/brother to leonardo dicaprio, super flirty, has a dark sense of humor, thinks his family is The Worst, has a thing for amanda seyfried, keeps trying to flirt with her but she won’t give him the time of day ... which only encourages him even more, thinks he’s the greatest but he’s actually the worst, reckless! kind of an idiot sometimes, will probably die doing something stupid 

CHARLIE HUNNAN (open) brother of dominique, in love with winona ryder!!!! has a will they/won’t they thing going on with her, tries not to give her the wrong idea but definitely does! loves her a lot but knows that what he does is dangerous and would never want to put her in harm’s way so he never means to ask her to marry him, lawyer, morally upright, believes in justice!!!!! will always do what he thinks is right, whatever the consequences, 

DOMINIQUE MCELLIGOTT (taken by lizzy) middle class, secretly harbors sorcerers in her house w/ her bro, doesn’t believe that they are all!!! bad!!! people!!!! was supposed to marry daniel craig a few years ago but he suddenly???? just broke up with her for no reason??? definitely bitter about that … thinks she’s better off w/o him but still has a lot of feels??? bffs w/ scarlett johannson 

JOSH HARTNETT (open) ruthless, cunning, full of hatred for those with magical abilities, was once married to nicole kidman but never thought he deserved her, hates everyone but her, hates himself more. eventually she left him after josh killed his own brother b/c he developed his powers, hates that her life has sucked since he left!!! hates what he did to her!!!!!!! has become even more reckless and brutal since the divorce. don’t cross him!!!!! tbh lowkey where he stands anymore re: sorcerers but also neEDS to believe that they are evil and dangerous otherwise he won’t be able to live with himself given what he did to his brother w/o a moment’s hesitation! 

[love-god-forever]

An Arrogant and Dominating Wife’s Transformation

By Chen Jing, Italy

I wore the pants in family, so I couldn’t get on well with my husband.

When I was young, I was spoiled by my parents and my brothers and sisters also indulged me very much. I neither did any hard work in my family nor suffered any injustice. Growing up in such an environment, I became insolent, willful, and self-righteous. I was self-centered in doing everything and refused to accept others’ different ideas. It was as if my whole body were covered in thorns that no one could blame or touch me.

My husband was gentle. After marriage, he indulged me very much and I wore the trousers in our family. So, my words were just like imperial edicts. As long as I dictated something to him, he must do as I told him and didn’t dare to argue with me; if he dared to have another idea, I would keep arguing with him until he made a compromise.

In 2007, when we wanted to build our house, I thought it would be beautiful if we built two rooms plus a pergola on the third floor, but my husband considered the pergola not functional, and said it would be better to build another room. Hearing he had a different opinion, I got mad, so at that moment, no matter what he said, I stuck to my own thoughts and didn’t accept his opinion at all and complained about his lack of appreciation. When he told his thought to the builder, I got angry very much and kept a stiff face, being full of complaints in my heart. But for the sake of saving my face, I didn’t get mad immediately. I forced myself to hold back my temper and left these words: “Well, build this house as you like. From now on I will back off from all the things about our family.” And then I walked away. On seeing me getting angry, he gently tried to talk it over with me. Not a little could I listen to him, I said angrily: “Who exactly has the final say in our family, you or me?” He explained it to me, but I interrupted him at once and dressed him down. Seeing I insisted on my own opinion all the time, he finally made a compromise with me helplessly. Only then did I feel a little comfortable.

My husband liked playing cards, but he dared not play without my permission. One time I heard he was playing cards in our neighbor’s house, I thought to myself: “You dare to play behind my back! You really ignore me. Today I’ll teach you a lesson.” On my arrival at our neighbor’s, I shouted at him: “Stop playing and go home with me, now!” After that, I went home to pack my clothes up and wanted to divorce him. After a little while, he returned home. He saw I was about to leave home and so apologized to me immediately. I coldly said, “Let’s get divorced! I can’t live such a life. You go to marry a woman who likes gambling like you!” Aware of the unfavorable situation, he pressed his suit and swore that he would not play any longer, so I forgave him at last. From then on, he rarely went to play cards.

Because I was often disgruntled with my husband about trifles and threatened him with divorce frequently, before he spoke or acted, he had to watch my expressions and often sighed. Sometimes after I got mad at him, he was very helpless. In order to keep our family in harmony, he could only swallow his anger. Sometimes he kept smoking with his head down; sometimes he felt so hurt and resentful that he lost his temper at our child. Seeing this, I also felt uncomfortable in my heart. To tell the truth, I didn’t want to get mad, nor did I want to make him embarrassed. Every time after I argued with him and gained the upper hand, I wasn’t happy at all; on the contrary, I felt that I owed my husband too much and my heart was condemned, but I was unable to control my mood.

Led by God’s word, I had achieved initial changes.

Afterward, I was fortunate that I accepted the kingdom gospel of God. One time I read a paragraph of God’s words: “Did you ever realize what you are doing today— … considering yourselves as always right and better than others, being arrogant, and acting savagely like wild animals in mountains and rough like the king of the beasts—is this the likeness of a human being? You are rude and unreasonable.” After reading God’s words, I felt distressed in my heart. My behaviors were exactly the same as the revelations of God’s words. When I was a child, I was self-centered at home and asked my family to revolve round me. Once their doings weren’t agreeable to me, I would get mad. After marriage, I asked my husband to obey me in all things and to do as I told him. If he did it obediently, I would be happy and pleased; once he was disobedient to me or put forward different opinions, I would quarrel with him endlessly until he gave in. I thought carefully: He worked hard every day to provide for our family; however, not only did I not care for him, I also always lost my temper with him because his words and deeds were not after my heart. I always wouldn’t let it go until he made a compromise, and even turned my fury on him. I vented my emotions and revealed my naturalness in a willful way, so he felt especially restrained. He spoke or acted in front of me very carefully for fear that I was annoyed. He wasn’t as happy as before and sometimes he even would grumble a little. Because of my conduct, my husband and I couldn’t get on well with each other and our life wasn’t happy or blessed at all. Alas, everything was caused by my arrogant disposition. Did my living out have any likeness of a Christian?

God requires us neither to care for our own feelings nor to impose our ideas on others in our interactions of others. We should consider and tolerate others more. And then, I prayed to God and asked Him to lead me and give me the faith and courage to practice the truth. After that, when my husband’s speaking or acting wasn’t in line with my will, I prayed to God for guiding me to calm down and not to do things according to my flesh; after I cooled down, I talked things over with him. In daily life, I consciously cared for him. Before he returned home in the evening, I cooked meals and waited for him to eat together, showing great care for him and caring about his living. In addition, I would actively do more housework, lest he worry about it. Gradually, there were fewer quarrels between us and our relationship became a little more harmonious.

We were at odds again, and I learned the root of the problem.

One day, when my husband came back from his elder sister’s, he said to me: “Our brother-in-law wants to borrow some money from us.” Hearing that, I quickly asked him: “You’ve promised to lend them money, haven’t you?” He explained, “Yes, I have. But I didn’t say how much money we’ll lend them. I want to talk it over with you now.” On hearing his words, I flew into a fury, “You act first and report afterward. You’ve promised them already. Is there any need to talk with me? I can only agree. All right, you decide everything of our family from now on, and I won’t take care of anything.” On seeing me get angry again, he said, “Last time you said you would change yourself from then on, but I think you can still easily lose your temper as before and you haven’t achieved any change at all. Our sister and brother-in-law are always good to us. They often help us. Now they encounter difficulties and want to borrow some money from us, if I don’t agree to it, I will go against my conscience. Why are you always self-willed like a child? Don’t make a scene, will you?” Hearing his words, I realized my action wasn’t in line with God’s intentions, nor could I bear witness to God. But on thinking that my husband had decided for himself instead of talking it over with me in advance, I felt very uncomfortable in my heart. I worried that later he would do things according to his will without restriction, and then I wouldn’t have the final say. I really wasn’t reconciled to bowing my head to him. But I felt I wasn’t in line with God’s will if I got angry with him. I had conflict in my heart. In pain, I came before God to pray to Him for leading me to understand the truth and know His will.

Later on, I read another passage of God’s words: “Cruel, brutal mankind! The conniving and intrigue, the jostling with each other, the scramble for reputation and fortune, the mutual slaughter—when will it ever end? God has spoken hundreds of thousands of words, yet no one has come to their senses. … How many do not act for the sake of their own interests? How many do not oppress and discriminate against others for the sake of maintaining their own status?” And then I read these words in Sermons and Fellowship on Entry Into Life: “They still stick to their old self, and want to establish their image and be the boss. They consider themselves to be the most honorable in their heart and let others submit to them. Isn’t this kind of people the most arrogant? Their dispositions of Satan are too severe. What is the core and essence of satanic dispositions and nature? That is arrogance, self-rightness, self-importance and self-righteousness.”

Through God’s words, I learned that I couldn’t get on well with my husband because I lived by the satanic laws of survival of “I am my own Lord throughout heaven and earth.” I always wanted to control others, govern them and let them obey me. In my real life, I always used the word “I” first when I spoke, and I placed my own will first. I asked my husband to do things according to my will and didn’t give him any right to explain his ideas. Either on the big thing of building a pergola, or on the small thing of playing cards, I controlled him and forced him to listen to me. If he didn’t, I would argue with him and wanted to get divorced. Wasn’t what I expressed the revelation of my arrogant nature? I governed and controlled him in all things. I really brought him trouble and hurt, and even I myself felt tortured and in pain because I often got mad. At this rate, how could my husband and I get on well with each other? How could our life be happy? Wasn’t this all because of the harm of Satan’s corrupt nature and satanic toxins? I had been too deeply corrupted by Satan. At this moment, I despised my conduct from my heart and hated Satan even more. I wanted to resolve my arrogant disposition and act according to God’s word.

I found the way and saw light again.

Following that, I read a passage of Sermons and Fellowship on Entry Into Life: “In your home life, if people used to be in charge of your family, then you must remove them from their position. You must dispel all idols, make God’s words the master of your home, and allow Christ to rule. … And so, who really wields power in your home life? Is it you, your husband (or wife), or is it your children, or parents? Do you dare to write the words ‘Christ Is the Lord of My Home’ in your house? Do you dare to say to your husband (or wife), children, and parents, ‘Our family worships God. God’s words have begun to wield power, and from now onward, regardless of what problems we have, we shall solve them through prayer, and eating and drinking the words of God’? If you do it, and bring a complete end to a life of being ruled and reigned by the flesh….”

God requires us to do things according to His word and the truth in real life. Whoever speaks in accordance with the truth is who we should obey. We should let God’s word be the master and decision-maker and let the truth rule in our family. Because we are not truth and don’t have truth, how could we be qualified to force others to listen to ourselves? I always controlled my husband and forced him to listen to me. Didn’t I stand in God’s position? This offended God’s disposition. I had done things in this way for such a long time and thought I could protect my absolute authority in my family. I was truly offending and displeasing God. The consequence was so severe. From now on, I couldn’t consider myself to be the most honorable and be the master of all things in my family anymore. I must remove myself from the position. I need to let God and His word be in charge of my family. If my husband says something conforming to God’s word and the truth, I will listen to him. Only by doing things this way can I conform to God’s intentions. This is what a Christian should do.

At the time, I thought that regarding the matter of lending our elder sister money, my husband’s words were reasonable. Our elder sister helped us and was kind to our family. Even if she hadn’t helped us before, now she had difficulties, as her younger brother and sister-in-law, we also should do her a favor. It was appropriate that my husband promised to lend them some money. I shouldn’t stop him from doing that or even more find fault with him unreasonably just because he didn’t talk it over with me beforehand. Realizing that, I completely forgot my anger and began to talk it over with him calmly. Finally, we decided to lend 3000 yuan to our elder sister first.

With the word of god leading the way, I felt released in my heart.

At the noon of the Dragon Boat Festival in 2012, while I was cooking the meal, my husband went out. Before long he came back on a new motorbike and said to me: “This is the new motorbike I bought. What do you think of it?” When I saw the new motorbike, my heart felt stirred: “You are too hasty. Why did you buy it without talking it over with me? Did you think anything of me?” But then I thought that I shouldn’t suppress him in all things or impose my desires on him as before. He had his own thought and he could make the decision of what to buy according to his own requirements. I shouldn’t find fault with him unreasonably just in order to compete with him for superiority again. After thinking like this, I felt much more peaceful and released in my heart. I didn’t blame him, and changed the subject: “Why do you stand here? Wash your hands and get ready for lunch.”

Having found I was in tacit agreement with this matter, during the lunch, he smiled to me and said: “On my way home just now, I was thinking that you would surely get angry with me and brush me off for many days after you saw me riding the motorbike back. But, to my surprise, you didn’t get mad. It seems the God you believe in can really change people. Believing in God is so good! You are quite a different person. You are so good now.” Hearing his words, I knew this was a testament to the work of God. I kept thanking God for Him changing me.

After that, my husband also accepted the work of God in the last days and fulfilled his duty. We both began to lay great emphasis on pursuing the truth and enjoying God’s word every day. Our relationship was more and more harmonious and I had the feeling of sureness and joy in my heart. Afterward, regardless of whether big or small things of our family, I will actively talk them over with my husband, and we solve the difficulties and problems that we encounter according to God’s word and the truth in our life. We love and respect each other. No matter who speaks in line with the truth, we will obey the other, so the matters we face will be soon dealt with properly. Under the leading of God’s word, I have finally acted a little like a human and truly experienced it is God who saved and changed me. I offer my sincerest thanks and praise to God. To God be the glory!

[deepbluexsea]

Secrets

Rating: PG-13 (language, adult discussion). Relationships: Jonathan/Gabriel, Gabriel/Jillynn (past). Recurring Characters: Johnny, Briel, Dr. Williams, Bella (mentioned). Warning/Notes: Marriage therapy. Mention of physical intimacy (non-descriptive). I wrote Gabriel’s parts; his writer is much better at portraying him than I am.

PRESENT(ISH)

On only the third time Johnny was on his way to meet the marriage therapist with his husband, he was running behind schedule. This behavior was something Briel had cited as an issue in their relationship on their intake paperwork: Johnny’s career sometimes had to come first (even if he didn’t want it to). He had tried to work on the things Briel considered a problem before they ever started therapy and despite this small slip up today, he still thought he was doing fairly well.

It was nine minutes past 12:00 PM. The sessions were only an hour during his lunch break once a month, but here he was… late.

“I’m so sorry,” Johnny said breathlessly as he slipped into the therapist’s cozy, ambient office. Briel was already in his place on the loveseat. Taking the spot next to his husband, he smoothed out his slacks and ran his hands through his hair to tame it from his mad dash here.

“We know it’s out of your control sometimes,” Dr. Williams nodded with a gentle smile. “Perhaps you might consider directing your apology to your husband instead of to me. Just to increase the discourse on these difficult issues.”

In the way they’d practiced during the very first session, Johnny turned toward Briel and took his hands, meeting his gaze. They were taught to explain themselves in full while also acknowledging the other’s emotions, all the while increasing the happy ‘bonding’ hormones by touching. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it on time. The judge ran over on his ruling. I tried to get here as fast as I could. I know it’s disappointing to you, and…” He glanced at Dr. Williams, trying to find the right words. “And… probably reminds you of how you felt when I worked so much in the past. I’m going to keep trying to do better.”

“Excellent, Jonathan,” the therapist validated. “Gabriel, how do you feel about responding in kind?”

Briel took a deep breath and seemed to think for a minute. His slight irritation seemed to wane. “It’s okay, Jay. I mean, I know it’s going to happen every now and then. It’s not what I’m worried about right now.”

The two of them slowly pulled apart. Johnny knew exactly what was going to come next. Currently, the fact that Johnny hadn’t filed their divorce papers and didn’t tell anyone was seemingly a bigger dilemma than any of the ones they’d divorced over in the first place. Even though it had been a topic of heavy discussion at each of their appointments so far, it was still nowhere near resolved.

“What’s bothering you most lately, Gabriel?” Dr. Williams asked politely.

They waited for him to gather his words, but Johnny couldn’t help himself after a few moments. 

“Can I guess?” There were no objections. “It feels like he’s still very upset about the divorce papers. I told him I could file them any time, but he told me not to – which is really confusing to me. If he wants to start over from scratch, then I’m ready. If he wants to stay married, obviously, I’m ready. It’s like, we need to take a swing or get off the plate, you know? I don’t want to stay in limbo. We did that for a year after separating and it was tough.”

Before Briel could counter that, Dr. Williams tried to diffuse the tension. “Gabriel, I’m going to take a shot at what I’ve observed, but you tell me if this doesn’t sound right.” The other man nodded in agreement. “Jonathan, I don’t think that’s what Gabriel is saying. I think Gabriel has expressed his intent to be with you while also trying to communicate that lying about and concealing such a huge matter isn’t acceptable.”

Briel threw his hands in the air. “Yes! Thank you!”

“You don’t think I know that, though?” Johnny asked genuinely. He felt defensive, but he schooled his tone by keeping in mind what the doctor had said at their initial meeting: We’ve all agreed that your goal for attending therapy is to keep your marriage intact, so these conversations are to find solutions – not to blame or fight.

“I didn’t want to lie to you, Briel. I didn’t sit down one day and make the decision not to file the papers. I just couldn’t at first. Every time I tried, I felt so sick that it was hard to even go to work. It was like my chest was breaking in half all the time. And then I started drinking too much…”

Too much – an extent to which Briel probably didn’t realize.

“…it just wasn’t even on my radar by that point.” And fuck, why did Johnny feel like he was going to cry? “Then I was so busy putting my life back together that I forgot. But when I heard you were getting married, I remembered. I started the process again. And I never would have let it go on long enough to risk your marriage with Jill. I mean, I did push it off a couple of times after that but then I had a consultation about it. I got the document sealed and ready to be walked upstairs on a Friday evening, but the office was already closed so I had to wait until Monday. And that was the weekend you showed back up at home.”

It was quiet in the room for a long time after Johnny spilled his guts. All of the actions he’d detailed were so out of character for him that he didn’t expect Briel to fully believe him, but he had been through hell and back trying to get over this man. 2018-2019 Johnny wasn’t the same Johnny that he had been when they were still married.

“That’s it. That’s the whole truth,” he finally exhaled heavily, feeling like an increasingly unappealing human being because of how abysmal his conduct was during that time. Even though he was deeply afraid that Briel would be turned off by it, he knew that his husband deserved to know every last bit of it.

Dr. Williams let Johnny’s monologue sink in before she made her observations. “That was a brave confession, Jonathan. Thank you for sharing. While the two of you don’t seem to have any struggles with physical intimacy, keep in mind that the degree of emotional intimacy in a relationship is determined by the vulnerability you have with each other. This was a really great example. Gabriel, it’s my hope that this weekend you will take time to reflect on what your husband said today.”

Ten minutes later, the couple stood outside of the therapist’s building about to part ways: Johnny back to work and Briel back home to babysit Bella. They shared a quick kiss (as had become customary after these appointments), but afterward Johnny kept the other man close to him.

“I’m sorry, Briel. I didn’t think you’d ever know about this, so I didn’t think it would ever be able to hurt you. I hope you know I wouldn’t keep anything like that from you anymore.”

He kissed his husband again without hesitance before framing his face with his hands. “And now it’s no secret that I never stopped loving you.”

[pixelsandpins]

A Year Later: Joseph

It’s Friday night, and I wrote this in an evening. Let’s keep the series going. This one was super cathartic, not gonna lie. 

profanity, minor violence

2,127 words

The bright sound of ice clinking against glass punctuates the gentle murmur of Jim and Kim's. Mary, Robert, and I sit in one of our usual corner booths. Some nights are "watch Mary flirt with unsuspecting twenty-somethings" night. Some nights are "throw rocks at stop signs" nights. Some nights are "call it slightly early to let Robert take advantage of my need for validation and desire to sleep with hot guys" nights.

This night is none of those.

Tonight we've all just settled on the fact that we're terrible parents and our lives are a mess to varying degrees, but there's also nothing we can do about it at the moment. So we might as well drink the hell up.

Amanda wanted distance. I can respect that. She was right in that we both really needed it. I had gotten a phone call from her for the first time in months telling me she landed safely with her host family in France. An e-mail told me about her acceptance to the semester long art program only about two months ago, and details had been sparse. All communication had. Maybe it was for the best.

Hugo and Damien pass by the window of the bar hand in hand, and I let out an involuntary grunt of disgust.

"I told you I could hook you and Dames up, but noooooo," Mary says lightly.

"He's just a little too weird. I can't deal," I respond.

"I keep telling you he's more normal than you think."

"Whatever. They're a cute couple. They deserve each other."

Becoming friends with Mary wasn't an all at once thing, but it was still insanely weird. After the...unpleasantness...with Joseph, I didn't think she'd ever want to talk with me again. She was the one to come and sit next to me at the bar, though,  and initiate conversation the night after Amanda left for school. Then I found out about Robert and Joseph. That's when I realized what we had all formed was less a friendship and more of an alliance. A tiny coalition of people who had been both metaphorically and quite literally screwed by Joseph Christiansen in various ways.

"I'm beat. I'm gonna go home and hit the hay," Robert says, squeezing me on the knee under the table. His glance dips low at me, and he raises an eyebrow.

"Have a good night," I say pointedly. He gives me a small wink as he slides out of the booth. The back door will be left unlocked in case I change my mind. I've told him we need to stop a hundred times. A hundred times, still, I've banged the ever loving shit out of him, so I can't blame him for not taking my words at face value.

I know what this behaviour is, though. It's self-destructive and dangerous, and I fell into most recently when I lost Alex. They only thing that kept me from spiraling out of control at the time was Amanda. Without her around…..

"Want me to get Neil to set you up another?" Mary leans over to me, her hand resting loosely on the top of her vodka on the rocks. I shake my head. She's actually been drinking less and less since we started spending time together. I'm not a heavy drinker, really, so I think she doesn't feel the need to either. I don't know. She definitely talks about her kids more.

"I think I'll head out a little early, too. The twins have their final rehearsal for the church's summer pageant tomorrow, and I said I'd come help get all the costumes finished or whatever. It's this Saturday. You should come see it. I might need to tap you for some extra help on the punch bowl." I give a little noncommittal shrug, and Mary smiles at me. "Catch you later, stud." She pats me on the head on her way out. I stare down at my half-empty whiskey sour. I can stay here and finish it or take Robert up on his innuendo or go home and try to bury myself in Real Crimes: Boise. Either way it's going to be a long night.

I don't know why I'm here for this thing, but I at least found someone interesting to sit next to.

"I didn't take you for the churchgoing type, Mat."

He looks up at me as I pull up to the aisle where he's sitting.

"Not really," he says quietly and pats the seat next to him. "One of Carmensita's friends in the school choir is also in the youth choir here, and they needed some extra voices or something. I don't really know, but she'll take any chance to sing she can get." I nod. The girl's good. I've heard her at open mic night at the coffee house.  

"But what are you doing here?" he asks.

"Man, I barely know myself. Mary asked to me to help with the refreshment table afterward, though, so I guess I'm here to support the kids?"

Mat gives me a skeptical look, and I don't blame him.

A tap moves through the speakers hanging from the ceiling of the sanctuary, and we cringe at the sound.

"Hello, everyone!" Joseph is at the microphone, white knuckling it nervously. "Thank you for joining us for the summer pageant. The kids have pulled together a great program for you, so, without further ado, the music director!" Joseph passes the mic over to a very affable looking middle-aged woman in a flowery skirt and cream-colored blouse. Joseph moves down the center aisle toward the back of the hall. He nods to Mat with a smile as he approaches. For just an instant as he passes, though, he squints his eyes at me and sneers. In the blink of an eye, he's back to the pleasant youth pastor, though, and I feel a knot in my gut.

This is the part I can't stand, and I don't know how Robert's done it for this long. Come to think of it, he keeps his distance from the family, at large, though. But not me, no. I'm so desperate to be a part of a family again no matter how dysfunctional that I have to borrow Mary's on occasion. Bake sales. Youth functions. Anything Mary's forced to go to, she finds ways to drag me along. Which means I have to see him far more often than I'd like, considering.

It wasn't that difficult, at first. We were able to actually kinda sorta remain friends. I thought we could put the whole fiasco behind us. Then a switch flipped. I don't know what happened, but now he can't hide his utter disdain for me. Not totally sure what I did to deserve it, but as long as he keeps it civil I guess...I don't know. I don't know what it means.

I wake up startled to a banging on my front door. Probably shouldn't have fallen asleep on the couch, but I wasn't expecting anyone to just show up on my doorstep at noon on a weekday. I stumble my way to the door as the banging continues. I take a look through the peephole. It's Joseph.

I fling the door open quickly.

"Joseph, oh my god! Is everything okay? The kids? Mary?"

"Oh. Worried about Mary are we, you son of a bitch." Joseph takes a swing at me. It doesn't connect, but not for lack of trying. My half dodge was enough to avoid it, though.

"What the absolute hell Joseph?!" I scream at him. "Come inside." I grab him by the collar and pull him into my living room. "What the shit is this?"

"Are you sleeping with her? Huh? Is that it?" He's breathing and heaving, his shoulders hunched in anger and desperation.

"I am very very very gay, dude. This is a well-known fact."

"Then what bullshit have you been feeding her?"

He's still insatiably mad, and now I'm just annoyed. I put my hands out in front of me in a sort of half shushing motion.

"I don't know what you're talking about, so you better tell me what I'm supposedly guilty of, soon."

"She left me. Says she's staying with her brother with the baby if I need her. Thank God the older ones are at bible school."

"Then go over there and talk to her. Don't drag me into this."

"Damien won't let me talk to her, and that doesn't matter. She left me divorce papers on the kitchen counter."

Oh. Well. This is a little more serious. But still not my business. I'm irritated, though.

"Good," I say simply. He pushes me.

"So you did say something to her?!"

"The only thing I've ever said to Mary is that she deserves to be happy. And it's true. She deserves to be in a marriage where she feels wanted and loved. Where she truly feels like the queen of her household. And she's, obviously, not finding that with you."

He sneers at me like he always does.

I'm starting to understand what's happening.

"Oh… I get it, now." I seethe. "You can go away and sleep on your sex yacht when things get a little dicey, and that's all well and good. The minute she says that she's had enough, though, and wants to end it, you're all big man throwing punches at her friends because heaven forbid-" this time he clocks me in the jaw. His wedding band grazes my chin, cutting it open. It stings, but by the way he's holding his fist to his chest, only half as much as his hand.

"She doesn't have a right to just leave," Joseph spits. "Not after everything I've gone through with her. We said we'd try to make it work. She doesn't get to just give up on us."

"And what were you doing when you were fucking me on your boat, Joseph?" I'm spitting now, too, but it's blood from my cut lip. "'Waaa waaa my marriage is falling apart, and I just want to be happy again.' That's what you told me, right? Tell that to Robert, too?" Joseph goes pale. He didn't know I knew, it seems. "How many others were there?"

"There weren't-"

"Bullshit. You just only go caught twice."

He growls at me.

"Right. Blame it all on me while she's out flirting with every guy in town."

"I never said she was perfect. She loves you and the kids so much, though. But she's breaking under the pressure of being married to the youth minister. The perfect man. The golden boy." She might not remember telling me this. I barely remember it myself, we were so hammered. There were hot tears and shaking hands, though, in the back corner of the pub. That I can recall with crystal clarity. "Being Mary Christiansen is too much and she can't take it and she just wants you to see her." I spit again as blood fills up my mouth. "But you're too busy with your Margarita zone and your knots and maintaining your perfect little WASPy suburban life to notice that your marriage has fallen completely apart."

Joseph is faltering, his flared nostrils the only thing left still consumed by rage. The rest of him is defeat and uncertainty. He knows what I'm saying is right, but he's still so mad. So angry. At himself, hopefully, the bastard.

"You know just as well as I do that sometimes you just can't save it. So what are you gonna do? You gonna man up, or whine like a little baby and blame everyone else for your problems?"

Joseph makes another low rumble in his chest at me.

"This isn't the end of this conversation," he threatens.

"Good. Have the other half with Mary. Now get out of my house before I call the police and have you arrested for assault."

"I was already leaving." He turns on his heel, yanks the door open, and slams it behind him as he leaves.

I collapse to the floor, every ounce of energy gone, zapped by my rage. I stare at the doorknob, considering it. I find my cellphone somewhere in my pocket and send a quick text to Mary giving her a highly paraphrased version of what happened and telling her she can call me for help if needed. She won't respond right away, but it's something.

Only a year ago I had lamented that a new romantic start for me was going to come at the expense at the ending of someone else's. And yet only now, in the midst of decay, did it feel like there was a new beginning on the horizon...for one person, at least.

[tinylilemrys]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: MY DEAL WITH THE DEVIL

Read it on AO3

Summary:

Folk-musician, Merlin Emrys, feels like he’s slowly but surely getting his foot in the door in the music industry. He has a decent following on social media, a gig almost every other night and people have (mostly) stopped pouring beer into his guitar case as a tip. But when an old friend of Gwen’s offers him a slot as the warm-up act for one of his favourite musicians on a live music show watched worldwide, Merlin finds his career fast-tracked.

Now, navigating fake relationships, tabloid gossip, the paparazzi, corporate scandals and a rather unfortunate crush on Arthur Pendragon, the handsome owner of Excalibur Records, Merlin is learning that big dreams come at a huge price.

It was extremely difficult for Merlin to decide what he was meant to be feeling in that moment.

He supposed that part of him had always suspected that something was off with Mordred, but it had been pleasantly suppressed by mild hero-worship and even stronger attraction. Now every uneasy laugh, perplexing remark and sideways glance was thrown into sharp relief. Kara and Mordred. Kara and Mordred Jones. God, they had the same surname – how could it be possible that no one had drawn the connection before?

He disentangled himself from Mordred and took a step back.

“How is that even possible?”

“We were childhood sweethearts,” Mordred replied, raking an unsteady hand through his unwashed curls. “Please, Merlin, I’ll explain everything to you as soon as we get out of here.”

“Not a fuck, Mordred.” He let out a huff of humourless laughter. “I have the utmost sympathy for you. Believe me, I do. But you’ll have to forgive me if I’m not thrilled at the idea of going off somewhere with someone who has just admitted to living a lie for the past however many years.”

“Merlin…” Mordred frustratedly pleaded. When Merlin refused to budge, Mordred sighed. “Fine, come here.”

He grabbed Merlin’s elbow and directed him around the corner, where there were fewer people.

“Okay, if telling you the whole sordid story means that you’ll actually agree to come with me, here it goes. Kara and I got married in our last year of secondary. She’d found out that she was pregnant and her parents, who are the worst kind of religious nutters, insisted we get married to preserve her virtue or whatever. We were young. Really young. Too young. God, sixteen isn’t the age to be making any lasting life decisions, but we were in love and excited and stupid. It all felt like some brilliant adventure at the time. Then Kara lost the baby and her parents wanted us to get a divorce even though we’d never needed each other more. So we ran away to London, changed our surname from Owen to Jones and started a new life.”

Merlin’s heart constricted painfully. As the words kept tumbling out of Mordred’s mouth, Merlin wondered when he had last had someone to talk to about this.

“Kara had wanted to be a journalist for as long as I’d known her, so we both worked our arses off to put her through college, while at the same time trying to save enough so that she could go to uni. Kara always insisted that I use my free nights to find places to play my music and that’s how Agravaine found me. I was playing at this seedy little pub one night and he came up to me afterwards and asked me how much I was being paid for the gig. It wasn’t much. I mean, I was completely unknown at the time and – you’ll know – anything you get paid for your music when you’re first starting out seems too good to be true. Anyway, I told Agravaine and he immediately went to the pub owner and demanded he pay me more. The bloke was reluctant at first but Agravaine was relentless and I eventually got paid triple what we’d first agreed on. It was the most money I had seen in a long time and I was convinced then that Agravaine was some kind of godsend, so when he left his card and asked me to call him when I was ready to make a real career out of music, I immediately went home to discuss it with Kara.”

“And then you signed up with Agravaine?” asked Merlin with a grimace. Everything was beginning to make a twisted amount of sense.

“Not initially,” Mordred replied. “Kara and I had a meeting with him and told him that we couldn’t afford to risk everything when we were so close to finally having enough for Kara to study. Agravaine, slimy git that he is, told us not worry about all that and immediately began making arrangements. It was barely ten minutes later when he announced that Kara had a place at a really good school for the next academic year, all paid for, provided that we both sign contracts with him.

“And we signed them. Of course we signed them. We had spent our late teens as poor as church mice, trying to scrape together enough for some kind of future. This seemed like chance of a lifetime. We didn’t realise at the time that we’d effectively sold our souls. It didn’t matter as much then that part of my contract was that I couldn’t be seen in a relationship so that I was more marketable, because I was so thrilled to be making a real living from my music. And the knowledge that part of Kara’s contract was that Agravaine would have a say in whatever she published seemed completely harmless while she was studying and there were no major stakes. As long as we were discrete and careful about what we did, we had a new peace freedom that felt exciting and foreign. It was like suddenly remembering that we weren’t old. We still had so much life left.

“It was only when all the shit with Arthur happened that I realised something was off.”

Merlin didn’t respond to this. He waited with bated breath to hear Mordred’s side of the story that swam to the surface of his mind in moments of insecurity.

“We don’t have to talk about the Arthur stuff if you’d rather not,” said Mordred glancing over at Merlin. “I know things are probably still really raw for you.”

“Like they aren’t for you?” said Merlin. “Honestly, just tell me what happened, Mordred.”

“Well, there’s not actually that much to it, other than the fact that I think Agravaine was hoping to use me to publicly out him. I had stupidly mentioned at some point that I was bi and Agravaine latched on to the idea with a scary amount of enthusiasm. He initially encouraged and later demanded that I get close to Arthur – that I flirt with Arthur. I refused at first because the idea of cheating on Kara made me sick to my stomach, but he quickly threatened to tank her career just as it was finally starting to take off. So I did it. I flirted my arse off and Arthur was so desperately lonely and repressed that it didn’t take long for it to look like Agravaine was going to get what he wanted. We kissed a few times and went on one or two dates that might as well have been two blokes just hanging out for how careful Arthur was about them. I felt cheaper at that time than I ever had when Kara and I were earning barely enough to scrape by.

“It was just as I was working out that it was starting to become more than just messing around for Arthur – that he was starting to develop real feelings for me – that Agravaine pulled me from Excalibur and forced me to sign with Mercia. I realised then that I was just a puppet to be used for whatever shitty thing he needed me to do. From that point on, if he needed dirt on an artist or celebrity, he’d send me in and… well let’s just say Kara and I had an arrangement when it came to Agravaine ‘jobs’. They didn’t count, but they still hurt. In our sickening new routine, I’d flirt, kiss and sleep with whoever Agravaine’s victim was and pass Kara the information to publish in whatever celebrity rag offered the most for it.”

“Like with the car park incident with Valiant and Cenred? Was that Agravaine using you?”

“No,” said Mordred, scrubbing a hand down his pale and exhausted face. “Val and Ced work for Agravaine too, so I wasn’t needed there. But, for instance, with you…”

“Ah,” said Merlin, another few puzzle pieces slotting into place. “I was an Agravaine assignment.”

“Yeah,” said Mordred, his hand balling into a white-knuckled fist at his side. “When you and Arthur were still… well, Agravaine suspected that the relationship was bullshit so he initially wanted me to get you to ditch Arthur for me to confirm his suspicions. Once Arthur told him everything, it wasn’t necessary anymore. But then you guys had the breakup and Agravaine wanted to discredit your relationship with Arthur without outright saying that it was fake, so he got me a last minute ticket to the Mortal Labyrinth premiere with the mission to make sure we connected.”

“It worked,” said Merlin, resolving never to doubt Gwen ever again. That girl knew what was up.

“It did,” said Mordred, “And fuck, Merlin, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how involved you got with feelings but I promise you that I really didn’t want to hurt you. It’s what happens when you give any part of your life to Agravaine – he uses it to mercilessly control you. It was only after Ellie said that thing about risk being worth it if you love someone that I actually summoned the courage to find a plan for Kara and I to escape Agravaine. But Agravaine… he’s even more ruthless and powerful than we thought and now Kara…”

Mordred closed his eyes as if just the thought was causing him physical pain. He breathed deeply for a moment or two before opening his eyes to look at Merlin again. At any other time Merlin would have felt uncomfortable at this much eye-contact with another person, but Mordred’s eyes were hollow and hungry, as if desperately trying to grasp at whatever warmth and hope they could get and Merlin found that he couldn’t look away.

Eventually though, Mordred glanced down at his pocket to pull out his mobile.

“She tried to warn me,” he said, tapping open his photo album. His brow was deeply furrowed as he swiped to find the image he was looking for. Once it appeared that he had found it, he thrust the phone into Merlin’s hand. “That was her suicide note. I took a photo because they wouldn’t let me keep it. She left me a message, Merlin. She had a gun or god knows what pointed at her and she somehow still had the presence of mind to send me a message.”

Though slightly perturbed at the idea of being let in on the personal last words of a woman he had actively disliked (as much as he tried to reason that this was actually Agravaine’s fault), Merlin read the note.

my songbird

i hate to do this but it can’t go on anymore. there’s so much to say, but not enough time to say it. i’m so Very sorry for putting you through All of this. i only wish that i had more time now to assure you of how much i Love you And the immeasurable worth of what you have been for me through the cruelly Numbered years. oh how i wish i could steal a few more days, hours, moments to repay you, but something Dark and evil is pushing me towards the edge And i’ve run out of time to give.

always know, love, that i never wanted to leave you. i tried to stay as long as i could, but i have to Go. there’s no other way out.

also know, love, that i never Regretted Any of the Very short days i spent with you. even in the hard times when it All seemed impossible, you were what I woke up for each morning – all i ever Needed. my Everything.

oh my love, i need you To promise now to hold Onto the sweet, Kind, gentle heart of the man I fell in Love with. don’t Let this make you bitter and cold and don’t ever think that this is because you didn’t love me enough.

YOU were perfect, this world was not.

all my love until i see you again

kara

p.s. we’ll always have paris - x –

Merlin’s initial thought upon seeing the unusual punctuation was that the stress of her situation had screwed up her command of the English language, until he noticed that underneath the photocopy of her note, scrawled in hasty blue pen, was another note.

VAL AND AGRAVAINE TO KILL YOU

Merlin scanned through Kara’s words again, his eyes darting to each strangely capitalised word, and he was blown away at what she had somehow managed to do despite being faced with the imminent end of her life.

“She was a genius,” said Mordred softly, probably noticing the mixture of surprise and horror Merlin felt as it crept across his face. “A stupid, selfless genius who used her last moments to warn me instead of naming her killer.”

“Holy shit, Mordred,” said Merlin. “What now?”

“I’ve been working with Chief Inspector Katherine Annis. She’s on my side a hundred percent, but says she has to leave the case alone for now because she’s using it to sniff out officers who she believes are being paid to deliberately change the outcome of cases like this. That’s where I was hoping to take you now. She thinks that Aridean is going to try to pin Kara and Arthur on us, painting it like we worked together to… she just wants to make sure that you know what might happen.”

“When is she expecting us?”

“In the next fifteen minutes or so. If we leave now, we should make it on time.”

“Okay, I’m going to go with you,” said Merlin, “but first let me run in to let Arthur know. With all the shit going on, I don’t want to disappear and have him worry about me.” Mordred nodded and Merlin immediately began sprinting back towards the entrance of the hospital.

He almost tripped over his feet when, to his surprise, he saw Arthur striding gingerly towards him. His face was deeply etched with concern that eased slightly when he noticed Merlin. In his attempts to reach him, Arthur stumbled clumsily and almost fell over. Merlin immediately rushed to him and reached out a hand to help stabilise him. It wasn’t a moment later that he heard the first siren and somehow instinctively knew that it was for him.

“My love, they’re about to take me away,” said Merlin, taking a step closer to Arthur. “I know you’re not altogether here right now, but please try to understand and remember as much of this as possible. They’re going to say some things about me that aren’t true. They’re going to say that I killed Kara Jones and that I tried to kill you too. That I did it because I love Mordred. Don’t listen to a word of it, alright? I love you more than anything and I would never ever do anything to intentionally hurt you, you hear me?”

The sirens were so loud they were almost deafening. Merlin, unsure of what was about to happen to him, pulled Arthur into one last hug.

“I love you,” he repeated.

“What’s going on, Merlin?” his eyes were wide with concern and in that moment, it was hard to believe that Merlin was seven years younger than him. He looked so impossibly small and defeated.

“I love you, Arthur,” Merlin said again, as police officers began surrounding him.

“Merlin Emrys,” smirked DI Aredian, his voice a perfect mirror of the cold, steely cuffs now being snapped around his wrists, “you are under arrest for the murder of Kara Jones and the attempted murder of Arthur Pendragon. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”

A few feet away from him, Mordred was also being served his police caution.

Merlin tried to keep his eyes fixed on his angry and confused Arthur, who at first tried to fight his way through the line of police officers in front of him to get to Merlin, but was now just watching on as Merlin was manhandled into the back of the nearest police car. As they drove off, a nurse was clutching Arthur’s arm, trying to tug him inside and away from the cameras, but he wouldn’t budge.

The last thing Merlin saw as they rounded the corner was Arthur, resolutely still and seemingly impervious to the chaos around him. He had no way of knowing, but every wish he had left went into hoping that Arthur wouldn’t lose faith in him. The small hope that Arthur would still love and trust him after all of this had been cleared up was the only thing that was going to get him through this.

That, and the certain knowledge that Agravaine was behind this and that someday soon he would be rotting in a prison cell, far out of the reach of anyone Merlin loved and cared about.

***

Merlin, like most musicians who had dreamed of making it big someday, imagined his life post-breakout in detail. He had imagined signing the record contract, hearing his first single on the radio, playing his first stadium gig to a sold-out audience.

Never in a million years did he imagine that his music career would lead to the cold Scotland Yard holding cell in which he now found himself.

As he lay on the bed, staring up at the bleak grey of the ceiling above him, he wondered how much of what was happening to him could have been avoided by just becoming the marketer he had studied to become. He wouldn’t be in this cell, for one. He would have never had to stare into the cold eyes of Kara Jones. He would never have been betrayed by Mordred. He would never have had to deal with Agravaine.

You also would have never met Arthur, said a familiar unhelpful voice in his head. And doesn’t he make all of this worth it?

Merlin was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of approaching footsteps and the sound of his bars being unlocked.

“Hands behind your back, please, Mr Emrys. You’re being taken to the interrogation room,” explained the kinder-looking of the two officers now entering his cell. The other began slipping another set of heavy cuffs around his wrists. Merlin briefly considered making a comment about how they should buy him a drink first, but thought better of it. If Agravaine had people on the inside, the last thing he wanted was to make things worse for himself.

The officers and Merlin made their way down one or two of the frigid passages, finally entering through an unassuming door halfway down one of them. After removing his cuffs, they sat Merlin in a chair on one side of the wooden table so that he was faced with his reflection in the two-way mirror on the opposite wall. The two days he had been locked up had not been kind to him. A five-o’-clock shadow dusted his face and his black eye was enhanced by the dark rings under his eyes from the stress of the last few days. Merlin felt anger bubble beneath the surface of his skin. This was unfair and sick. His boyfriend had been poisoned two days ago and had barely begun his recovery when Merlin had last seen him. No one had told him anything since he had arrived here, even though Katherine Annis supposedly knew that he was innocent, if Mordred was to be believed. What if Agravaine had got to Arthur? What if he was in danger right now? Merlin was completely powerless to protect him and the knowledge of it made every minute in these icy walls pure agony.

Merlin’s inner tirade was interrupted by another tirade right outside the door.

“… and as such it is my job to interrogate any and all suspects. I will not let you interfere and tamper with my case.”

The second voice was much calmer and more measured – dangerous even.

“You’re forgetting your place, Aredian. If you continue being insubordinate I will take you off this case faster than you can say ‘incompetence’. Now as your murder and attempted murder case has also turned into a likely kidnapping at the hand of one of your officers, I suggest you get to the important task of finding the victim. I will interrogate the suspects.”

There was the sound of furious strides down the hallway and then the door of the room was creaking open again.

He recognised her as soon as he saw her. Her red hair was pulled back into a severe bun that mirrored the rigid and restrained nature of her expression. Though Merlin noted that she was shorter than he had thought she was when watching her on the news, she was still clearly not someone to be trifled with. Despite this, her face softened as she settled on the chair on the other side of the table and her expression softened into the warmest look he had received since his arrest.

“Merlin Emrys, I’m DCI Katherine Annis,” she said, extending a hand for Merlin to shake which Merlin did. “Firstly, that red light on the wall means that this conversation is being listened to but not by any of Aredian’s people, so you don’t have to be afraid of what you say. Secondly, on behalf of the Met, I would like to apologise for what we’ve put you through these past few days.”

The horrible reality of her words to Aredian suddenly struck Merlin and he looked at her in terror.

“God, did you say that there’s been a kidnapping? Who? Not Arthur?”

Annis’ expression softened further into what looked like pity and Merlin’s worst fears were confirmed.

“He disappeared from the hospital yesterday,” she explained. “Security footage shows what appears to be one of our officers leading Arthur from his room in the early hours of the morning. Neither of them has been spotted since.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” yelled Merlin, feeling all the simmering anger of the past few days rise to the surface. “Aren’t you people supposed to be watching people who have recently almost been murdered? Or is that just the old-fashioned way the police operate?”

“Merlin, I understand that you’re upset, but I can –“

“UPSET? I’m fucking livid!” Merlin was standing now, kicking back his chair in anger. The officer standing against the wall took a step closer, but Annis raised a hand to stop him. “You knew someone wanted him dead – you knew that someone actively tried to kill him! How the fuck did you let this happen?”

“Merlin, I don’t know how much Mordred told you before you were arrested, but we are in the process of trying to uncover a number of officers that we believe are corrupt. For obvious reasons, we haven’t been able to brief everyone. It was my understanding that the officers I posted to protect Mr Pendragon were clean. I had personally mentored them. Please know that if I had had the slightest suspicion otherwise they wouldn’t have been placed anywhere near that room.”

“Yeah that’s great and all but that doesn’t change the fact that my boyfriend is missing or hurt or… or worse and it’s your incompetence that made it possible. God and when were you planning to tell me? After he showed up dead somewhere?”

Merlin’s breath was growing shallow and panicky. He needed air. He needed out – to find Arthur before something awful happened to him. He could just walk out. Why shouldn’t he? He wasn’t a suspect and Annis knew it. What possible repercussions could there be?

A moment after this thought crossed his mind, the door to the interrogation room was being opened again. Merlin was so relieved to see a friendly face, to see someone as confused and furious as he was that as soon as Mordred’s cuffs were unlocked, Merlin hugged him tightly, taking comfort in the warmth and understanding he found there and trying to radiate as much of it back as possible.

The tears were falling before he had time to think about stopping them.

Mordred put an arm around Merlin’s shoulders and led them to the table. Annis said nothing but offered Merlin a packet of tissues from her pocket which he reluctantly took.

“Has there been a new development? Is that why we’re both here?” Mordred asked, his voice tired and worn. Merlin wondered if he had slept at all since he found out about Kara’s death.

“We have security footage of what appears to be an as of yet unidentified officer leading Arthur from his hospital room. Neither has been seen since then.”

Mordred looked as livid as Merlin felt, but instead of shouting his feelings as Merlin had, he simply folded his arms and waited for what Annis would say next.

“We have a team of analysts trying to identify the officer in the security footage which will give us a much clearer idea of what happened. In the meantime, our hope is that DI Aredian will lead us to wherever Arthur is being held. Mordred, the reason I called you here is that we need to find out what Kara knew. We have been from the bottom to the top of her flat and we can’t find anything that would drive Agravaine to have her killed.”

“We wanted out,” said Mordred. “We were planning to break our contracts with him.”

“Yes, I understand that,” Annis replied, “but what I don’t understand is why Agravaine would take the dangerous route of having Kara killed instead of just tanking your careers like he threatened to. He doesn’t strike me as the type to make life more difficult for himself than it needs to be. Then there’s his excuse for all those calls between him and Kara that day. I don’t think the story about the article is as made up as we once believed it was.”

“Are you saying that Kara was planning to publish something on Agravaine?” asked Merlin. “Why wouldn’t she just publish it then? Why call him up about it?”

“She must have been using it as a bargaining chip to guarantee that Agravaine would leave us alone,” said Mordred, now paler than he had been a moment ago, “and she buried it when she realised that Agravaine was far more likely to get rid of her than negotiate with her.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Annis agreed. She shuffled through the pages of the file in front of her, finally pulling out a copy of Kara’s suicide note – the one Mordred had showed him a photo of. This time, Merlin saw that the line “p.s. we’ll always have paris – x” was underlined and that “paris” was circled with two enormous question marks scrawled next to it. “This is the only line of Kara’s note that still doesn’t make sense to me. Based on the composition of the rest of her note, it seems too casual and superficial to not be intentional. With that in mind, can you please tell me what significance Paris played in your relationship?”

“I’ve told you – it’s where we went for our honeymoon,” Mordred replied as if the memory of it caused him physical pain to recall. “I don’t understand why she couldn’t have just been leaving me a reminder of what was probably the last time either of us was truly happy.”

Annis was quiet for a moment and spoke her next sentence as if measuring each word.

“Of course that’s what she was doing on one level, but your wife has proven that she was a masterful writer. Every word, every letter and punctuation mark in this letter is intentional and right now the only part of it we haven’t deciphered is this line. It may be the clue that leads us to her dirt on Agravaine, so I need you to really think – was there perhaps an inside joke or personal story the two of you shared that was linked to Paris?”

“None that immediately spring to mind,” said Mordred. “And it would be kind of pointless for her to leave a secret message about something I can’t remember, not so?”

“Very well,” said Annis, reaching down next to her for a box. “Here’s another idea. These are all items from her flat that have any connection to Paris or France. Is there anything in here that tells you anything?”

She handed Mordred a pair of latex gloves which he pulled on before gently removing the contents of the box one by one with trembling hands. There was nothing too thrilling amongst the seemingly random assortment of objects: a set of car keys with an Eiffel Tower key ring, a mug that bore the slogan ‘reste calme et parlons Français’ on a background of the French flag, a glittering snow globe containing a miniature Notre Dame and a men’s “Paris Je T’aime” t-shirt. So when Mordred removed the final item, a simple wooden jewellery box, and Merlin was hit with a wave of nostalgia at the sight, he couldn’t help but gasp.

“You recognise it?” said Annis, her brow furrowing in confusion as she handed Merlin a pair of gloves so that he could handle it.

“Not this one exactly,” said Merlin, noting that the design differed slightly. Where Kara’s box had the Eiffel Tower burnt onto the top of it, the one Merlin had known had had the Palace of Versailles instead. “My best friend had a box like this growing up. He got it when his mum passed away. We used to use it to hide all of our contraband. You know… like sweets and stuff.”

Annis raised a suspicious eyebrow and Merlin felt his ears grow hot under her gaze. It was probably best not to admit to his teenage drug use in front of the police. He hastily finished pulling on his gloves and took the box gently from Mordred.

“Anyway, if I’m right and this is the same kind of box, there’s a false bottom to it. I just need to…” Merlin opened the hinged lid and slid the front face of the box up to reveal the slot for the false bottom. He was right. Gently, he reached into the box and slid out the thin sheet of wood that formed the bottom, gasping at the sight of a flash drive padded with socks to keep it from rattling.

“Oh my god, that has to be it,” said Mordred, staring at it with wide eyes. “That has to be the Agravaine story.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” said Annis, standing up abruptly from the desk and addressing the officer standing against the wall. “Daira, please take all this back to the evidence room. I’m taking Mr Emrys and Mr Jones to my office.”

“Of course Ma’am,” Daira replied, immediately stepping over to the table and pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Follow me,” said Annis, leading them out of the interrogation room and down one or two indistinguishable corridors until they arrived at an office with the words ‘Detective Chief Inspector Katherine Annis’ emblazoned across the window. Annis hastily unlocked the office door and practically threw herself into her seat, plugging in the flash drive as she did. A few moments later, her eyes widened. “It’s all here. Oh my god, she was an absolute genius.”

She beckoned Mordred and Merlin to stand on her side of the computer and showed them what she was seeing. It was almost beyond belief. There were files upon files of evidence she had collected over the years – conversations that she had recorded both in person and over the phone (including the most recent ones between her and Agravaine on the day of her death), copies of her articles before and after Agravaine had distorted them into near fiction, folders full of incriminating photos and video footage and finally, a file entitled ‘My Deal with the Devil’ which Merlin realised must be the article that had led to her death.

“Open it,” said Mordred.

“Mordred, are you sure?” said Merlin, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Won’t it be distressing for you?”

“She wants it to be read so that’s what I’m going to do,” he said, setting his jaw.

“I want to read it too, so for the sake of time I’ll read it out loud,” said Annis, opening the file.

In the most laughably unfunny and ironic way, this story (which was supposed to be my ticket to freedom and a life that actually belongs to me), has turned out to be my death sentence. You have to know that, off the bat, when I first sat down to type these words, to tell this story, it was with the mindset that I would finally be able to escape and stop living this lie in which I’m trapped. And while it’s possible that the threats of murder and rape that have been set to me in the past few hours might not come to anything, if you are reading this now, you know now what this man is capable of.

Agravaine Du Bois is the devil and I am one of the fools who sold their soul for his lies.

I am not alone in this – just the first to actually have their soul demanded from them. Du Bois, unassuming as he seems at first glance, is a master manipulator with numerous flies trapped in his web of deceit, including the one person I love more than life itself. It is for his sake now that I lay out this demon’s many sins. It’s too late for me, I know that now, but I’m hoping that by some grace I don’t deserve, he won’t suffer the same fate.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

In the beginning, there was a young man and the young woman who fell in love with him. Some would argue that we were too young – even we concede as much on nights when we drink and bitterly mutter about how different things might have been. Back then I was the practical, repressed, self-righteous result of an upbringing that taught me that life was a set of rules and consequences for breaking them. How then could my head not be turned by the beautiful, poetic mind of Mordred Owen, who believed wholeheartedly that life was a set of experiences and that the only lasting consequence life had to offer was regret at not taking every chance at adventure that life handed him?

Kara then began her beautifully woven telling of Mordred’s story from a few mornings ago, and Merlin felt his mind about her change. They really had just been two scared and exhausted kids who wanted a chance at a better life. Everything that followed, all the bile and wretchedness, was all Agravaine’s doing.

Mordred and I suffered this new adventure gladly. Though our time together was limited and highly clandestine, we both took comfort in the fact that the other was doing what they had always dreamed of. Despite the unusual emptiness of my bed, I rested well each night in the knowledge that my husband was finally being recognised for the musical and lyrical genius he was and that our time apart was only for a season while Du Bois set Mordred’s name up in lights.

In my naivety, when signing the contract to give Du Bois final say in the articles I published, I had thought that he had meant it from a place of wanting to offer me additional inside information from the many whispers of the industry to which he was privy. And, to his credit, it started that way. When I wrote my first scathing article about Catrina West making waves for all the wrong reasons, Du Bois supplied me with a seemingly endless supply of evidence that she had lip-synched her way through every single one of her live performances, leading to her fall from grace and my ascent to a position as one of the most prolific celebrity journalists in the UK.

It only escalated from there. Lives have been ruined by the biting words typed at my hand and the further malicious twisting of the truth at Du Bois’. It became increasingly difficult to separate my work and hatred of it from my personality and before long I found myself using my spiteful words as an outlet for my anger and frustration. This, of course, doesn’t excuse the things I’ve written, I am still responsible for not stopping this madness earlier, but you have to understand that this is what Du Bois does. He twists everything so that you eventually forget that you are being coerced into being the villain and actually begin to feel like you are the villain.

My husband was going through the same thing. His forced available bachelor act was beginning to weigh on him and Du Bois’ insistence that he should flirt but never touch made things all the worse. We would steal an evening or two together where we could, but for the most part, we were both incredibly lonely and miserable. The initial glamour of our new lives had worn off and now all either of us wanted to do was go back to what we had known before.

Mordred was the first to crack. In a moment of pure bravery (or stupidity) he insisted that he had been ‘single’ long enough to market himself and it was about time he got to be with his wife again, even if he had to pretend that it was a brand new relationship. Du Bois’ reaction was a malevolent chuckle and condescending ‘we’ll see’. It later transpired that this meant that Agravaine had no intention of letting Mordred be with anyone if it didn’t suit his purposes. And this, in turn, meant that Du Bois fully intended to exploit Mordred’s sexuality.

Despite having to keep it quiet for most of his career, Mordred has never been shy about being bisexual, insisting that it’s just one of many aspects of what makes him who he is. Without Du Bois’ interference, it would never have occurred to him to keep it quiet. Du Bois had other ideas about what would be a deal breaker for his audience and being open about his sexuality was one of them. Besides, didn’t he think that the mystery was so much more fun than the truth? Wasn’t the ambiguity and implication more fun to talk about than the bare black-and-white facts?

This philosophy didn’t last long and Du Bois’ first foray into forcing Mordred into a relationship came with Arthur Pendragon. It was the first of many relationships, both sexual and non-sexual, that my husband had absolutely no say in.

This may seem a shock to those who understand Agravaine Du Bois to be the brother of the late Ygraine Du Bois and therefore Arthur’s seemingly doting uncle, but Du Bois’ relationship with Arthur is insidious to the point of emotionally abusive. To contextualise it, it must be understood that when Ygraine died Du Bois was fully under the impression that he would be inheriting Avalon Records, which at the time was a highly successful independent record label. Instead, Avalon Records was bequeathed to Arthur with Du Bois’ managing it until he came of age. Though the slow decline of the record label has often been attributed to its dated practices and refusal to remain relevant, Du Bois has admitted in so many words (clips available at www.karaknows.com/my-deal-with-the-devil) that he deliberately mismanaged the label so that Arthur’s inheritance would turn out to be far more curse than blessing. Indeed, by the time Arthur inherited it, it was nearly unsalvageable and despite managing to scrape a few more years out of it, Avalon Records closed its doors for good in summer 2009, shortly before Uther Pendragon’s untimely death.

Mordred was one of the first artists signed to Pendragon’s new venture, Excalibur Records, which he began in late 2007 to allow himself the freedom to sign fresh new acts that actually had a half-decent chance of being successful. It was a match made in music heaven. Mordred’s soulful folk was set to put Excalibur Records on the map, which was precisely the opposite of what Excalibur’s new PR Manager, Du Bois, wanted and his subsequent plan to derail it was brutally simple. He would organise a contract buyout with another label, but before that, cause a public relations nightmare that would take Excalibur down with it.

Du Bois had, what was in his mind, the perfect recipe for disaster. He had two handsome, lonely men (one touch-starved and contractually forbidden from being in a relationship and the other desperately repressed and unable to convincingly deny the rumours that he was gay) plus a set of small confined offices where they would see each other every day for hours at a time. All he needed to do was prod Mordred towards Arthur and the tentatively stacked dominos would collapse one after the other.

Merlin put an arm around Mordred as Annis read Kara’s account of Agravaine’s emotional and psychological abuse. It sounded like hell and Merlin realised how lucky he was to only have a black eye to show for their conflict.

That, and an injured and missing boyfriend who was almost murdered, jeered a chillingly malicious voice that sounded an awful lot like Agravaine’s. We mustn’t forget that.

Annis continued reading.

Apart from forced libel and near prostitution, I could go into detail on the extensive list of Du Bois heinous crimes here. There are many. There’s his rumoured embezzlement of Avalon’s Finances (which I would not be surprised to see replicated in the recent financial failings of the once booming Excalibur); his manipulation and coercion of Cenred King and Valiant Wright into carrying out his dirty work, throwing the lives of the band and those connected to them into turmoil; the skilful masterminding of Mordred’s first highly public and completely fake relationship with Merlin Emrys without Merlin being aware of it; for getting Sophia Timor pregnant, blaming it on Arthur and cruelly abandoning her when she stopped being of use to him. I could list the details, but there is simply no longer any time. For that, you will have to visit the aforementioned website and confront the overwhelming evidence for yourself.

There is no more time.

It is here, staring down the barrel of this metaphorical gun that I wish to personally apologise to anyone whom I might have hurt with my biting words and insensitive lack of discretion. Were it up to me alone, many of the things that are now known about you would have remained a tight-lipped secret and many of the rumours that were unfairly spread about you would never have seen the light of day. I take full responsibility for my actions and know that had I been a bit braver, your lives might be very different now. I know I have made a great many enemies and rightly so, but I hope you realise that with freedom over my talents, I would have put them to far better use. I would have been investigating a character like Du Bois as an objective third party. Instead, I am a part of his twisted truth.

Now as part of that truth, knowing that I will not survive the fall, I am dismantling my section of the web and praying the rest unravels with it.

My last words are for the one person to whom it physically pains me to have to say goodbye.

Mordred my love, if you managed to find this and are reading it now, know that I would never trade a single moment that was spent with you. I love you more than any words I put here could possibly express, even if I did have all the time in the world. You don’t feature in a single one of my regrets except that we didn’t get the eighty or so years together it felt like we should have been promised.

Even though I’m afraid, I’m alright now. I’m at peace knowing that even when I’m still, I won’t be silenced. I take solace in knowing that if I’m going down, I’m taking the son of a bitch who ruined your life with me.

Be brave and carry on for me. I know you don’t always see it, but you are a gift to this world. Go show every other practical, repressed, self-righteous little girl and boy that magic is real. That they can be anything they want to be. That they don’t have to settle for being successful, that they can be something far greater – they can be good.

And once I have paid my devil his debt, I too will finally be good.

A chill ran down Merlin’s spine as he opened his arms to envelope Mordred. Enormous silent sobs were racking his body and Merlin felt that if he didn’t hold him, Mordred would shake apart. Tears were stinging his own eyes and even Annis was pulling a tissue across hers.

Kara’s words had cut to the heart of the tragedy that this was. No one in this story had asked to be a part of it. They were the victims of a sociopath who cared nothing for anyone’s interests but his own.

“Right, I’m copying the contents of this drive to my computer and then you two are coming with me.”

“Where are we going?” asked Mordred in a hollow, distant voice. It was gut-wrenching and raw and Merlin felt almost physically ill at the grief of it.

“I think it’s about time Sophia Timor finally had the opportunity to tell the truth.”

[human-oddity88]

Love and Self Loathing

ON LOVE AND SELF LOATHING

“You cant love someone until you love yourself first” Bullshit. I have never loved myself. But you. Oh god, I loved you so much I forgot what hating myself felt like.” Unknown

I was bullied. When I say this I don’t mean the cute innocent teasing portrayed in sitcoms and in movies. I mean the kind of bullying that sent me home in tears everyday from school. The kind of bullying that left me with emotional problems similar to those who grew up in abusive households. The kind of bullying that made me obsessed as a teenager with finding the quickest and most painless way to kill myself. There was literally nothing about my body, my thoughts, my past or my present that they couldn’t/didn’t use as a Knife to cut me. But the worst part was that the adults in my life either didn’t care at all, or even if they did care offered no real solutions. I spent years hearing the same old hallow tired advice like “just ignore them” (easy to do while people you’ve gone to school with your entire life pick your life apart like they’re dissecting a frog), “they’re just jealous” (trust me they aren’t), “just try to be more normal” (tried every day for 16 years and the more I tried to abandon myself for the sake of fitting in the less I did). Ultimately the bullying became so harmful l that I, an A to B student with real potential, dropped out of high school at 16 because I knew if I had to endure another 3 years of abuse my unsuccessful suicide attempts would eventually become a successful one. Bullying kills kids like me every day. Kids who are different like I was, kids who are overweight, LGBT, part of a racial and/or religious minority, or if they are in any other way strikingly different from their peers. In my case I was a strange combination of the above. I can’t even explain how much heartbreak I feel when I read yet another story on Facebook about a high school kid who killed themselves as a result of bullying. I feel myself die inside very time I read another name or see another picture. I know exactly what those poor souls were thinking as they took their own lives, because I thought the same thing. I could write a novel, hell a series of novels about the bullying that I had to endure, and about my adolescent self trying to cope with it. But I’m way more interested in writing about afterwards. What it’s like as a young adult trying to build a life based on such negative and self loathing social interactions. To show people that may be struggling even as they read this, that it really does get better. The bullying that I endured left me with many certainties about myself. I was ugly. I was worthless. No one would ever love me. These certainties didn’t keep me up at night or bring me to tears everyday they were simply facts like the description of a cell in a biology textbook. It has been studied, and verified by enough scientists that it can now be accepted as unquestionably true. I was surrounded by people who loved me. My friends and my family, and they fought to convince me that I was beautiful and worthwhile. But despite their valiant efforts I entered adulthood I with zero self esteem and even less confidence. A girl who had once been loud and passionate had become quiet and subdued. The bright Colors I once wore because I’m an ostentatious person had been replaced with dark colors that helped me blend in. When I was 18 I got my very first real boyfriend. He loved me. He thought I was pretty. He was with me on purpose. My mind couldn’t comprehend any of that. I kept waiting for him to realize all the things about me that I already accepted as fact. But he didn’t. It was a shock to my system. Our relationship was not perfect. he was the person I lost my virginity to, and as I became sexually active I realized new and amazing things about myself. Chief among those was the fact that I have an extremely high sex drive. My boyfriend however had an extremely low sex drive. Night after night I would try to initiate sex with him, and he would make excuse after excuse as to why tonight wasn’t a good night for him. On the nights we did have sex, it only happened after begging, when he would give in with a long exasperated sigh, and seem about as excited about it as you might be to take out the trash or get a root canal. After years of this I started wondering if I was the problem. Was I so ugly and repulsive that my own husband didn’t want me? Those Thoughts haunted me throughout my marriage. There were plenty of other problems in our relationship as well, such as the fact that as a result of his Asperger’s Syndrome he could never be my partner, more of an overgrown child who needed a live in Nanny, first in the form of his mother and then me. If I had not been bullied. If I had not been convinced over the course of my entire academic career that I was ugly worthless and that no one would ever love me, I probably would have left my boyfriend. I would not have settled for a guy who didn’t appreciate me to the level that I truly deserved. But unfortunately the way he treated me just helped to confirm what I already knew to be true. I really was ugly. I really was worthless. I just counted myself lucky that anyone wanted me at all. That’s why I married him when I was only 20 years old, even though I wasn’t happy, even though in my heart I wanted more than he could or was even capable to providing. I did it because even though I knew this consciously, even though I was fully aware that I was settling, I also knew for a fact that this was the best I could do. Only pretty girls got guys who truly loved, and wanted them. Only girls whom were worthwhile got the kind of guys that took your breath away. Only those girls got the kind of love that made the world make sense. It shouldn’t come as a shock that I was divorced four years later. Funny thing about marriage. The biggest difference between marriage and dating is that when your dating you can easily work past or even outright ignore all those little cracks in your relationship. From the hairline fractures up to the fault lines. But when you get married those cracks don’t go away. In fact they grow and deepen. Until you drift apart like tectonic plates. After my divorce I finally began learning about myself. I began dating my second boyfriend. He was much, much older than me, but he was also the first man who made me feel wanted. He made me feel sexy. That relationship wasn’t perfect either. I could write a whole other, whatever this is, about why it is never a good idea to sleep with a married man behind his wife’s back, but I overlooked that as well because he gave me something I really needed at that time. He gave me confidence. He helped me realize that I was beautiful, I was sexy, and I was worthwhile. I stopped hiding the body that I had always found repulsive under dark drab clothes. I started wearing clothes that made me look as sexy as I felt. I started flirting which I had never done before. It was a magical time in my life. When that relationship finally came to its inevitable end, I took my new found confidence and threw it at a guy that was attractive beyond my wildest dreams. He was the kind of guy that the high school version of me had fantasized about dating. Tall, dark, and brooding (sorry I can’t even type that without laughing g but we are getting to that) and even though my intuition warned me against getting serious with him, warned me that like a low voltage electrocution not only would it kill me it would hurt the entire time I was dying, I got serious. I felt like I needed to date someone like him to prove to myself that I could, prove that I was beautiful and sexy enough to date someone as hot as him. Even though I finally had confidence and self worth I still felt like I was dating way above my station even though in reality I had reached the bottom of the barrel and was now digging in the ground beneath. The first time he cheated on me was literally two weeks into our relationship. But I didn’t leave. He continued to lie and cheat for the entirety of our relationship and I never left. I had finally realized how beautiful sexy and worthwhile I was just to end up dating every bully I had ever endured all rolled into up into one handsome incarnation of everything evil. He methodically and quite effectively reminded me that I was ugly. That I was clingy. And just like before I accepted it all as fact. I knew I was ugly, and that if I wasn’t so ugly he wouldn’t have to cheat on me. And if I wasn’t so clingy he wouldn’t he to be so distant and unavailable. And that I could never leave him because I was so ugly and worthless that I would never ever be able to convince someone else to love me. And I believed all of it. It wasn’t just a belief for me it was a fact list like they had been facts in highs school. So I never left. Even after he cheated on me for the ten millionth time. Even after he gave me an STI and blamed it on me, even when I began to financially support him, a guy who made over twice as much money as I did so he could blow his paychecks on drugs video games and I’m sure sex with other girls. He finally left me when I had nothing else to offer that he needed. And in the theme of our relationship he made me feel responsible for that as well. He had tried so hard to love me, But I was just too hard to love. he needed to love himself enough to find something better, and I needed to die alone. And I accepted that he was right. I accepted that I really was this awful ugly worthless person that he and every person at school had convinced me I was. I had finally overcome the pain of my bullying, but this saint of a man had held a mirror up and shown me that they had been right all along. That’s why when I saw a guy who made my heart flutter the very moment I laid eyes on him, I didn’t introduce myself, I didn’t flirt. I knew I was ugly, worthless and impossible to love so I just admired him from across the room, fantasizing about what it would be like to talk to him, to kiss him, to be with him. Even after a friend (who didn’t know about my weird little crush) introduced him to me I still lacked the confidence to actually make a move. But I did talk to him. We talked for hours. Sharing and laughing. I found it easier to talk to this guy than I had ever felt talking to anyone before in my entire life. I didn’t hold back, I didn’t need to with him. He saw me. Making a move on him was literally the hardest and most terrifying moves I’ve ever made. I liked him, I was attracted to him both physically mentally and emotionally. I needed to know if he was attracted to me, but the terror of rejection, the terror of all of those terrible things about me being once again confirmed by a possible rejection filled me with dread that I cannot describe. But I did it. I made a move. It was 6 in the morning. Him and I had literally stayed awake together all night talking. And I was having so much fun talking to him that I didn’t even feel tired, even as the sun began to rise. After hours of plotting my move in my head I decided my move would be to lay down on the ground beside him and lay my head on his leg. Silly I know. But I felt like if he was attracted to me the way I was attracted to him he would allow my head to stay and if he didn’t share me feelings He would ask me to sit up or something else subtle that would be less soul crushing than a full blown rejection. Then we could just keep talking and I could pretend my move had never happened. So I did it. I laid my head on his leg, and to my surprise and delight he allowed it to stay. He didn’t say a word about it in fact, just started running his fingers through my hair as we continued to talk. We shared our first kiss that morning. I’ve been with him for over two years now. And I’m happier than I ever thought I could be. All those years of self loathing have become a distant memory. Because of him, I not only feel beautiful, sexy and wanted, but I feel an actual detachment from the memories of when I didn’t. As if they happened to someone else. Those feelings are no longer a part of who I am. I’m not saying my confidence is flawless. I’m still scared, more scared in fact than I ever want him to know that I will one day be replaced. That he will someday find someone better than me, that it wouldn’t even be that hard for him to find someone better than me, and he will abandon me like everyone who came before him. I tell him I feel this way sometimes, and he holds me and reassures me that I am beautiful and perfect and that he could never want anyone else. And I believe him. For the first time someone saw me. He saw everything that I was, everything that I had been or may yet become. He saw all of the things that are wonderful about me, and also the things that are not so wonderful. and he loves every bit bit of it. But the thing I love most is the gift me gave me. A gift I will happily spend the rest of my life thanking him for. He saw me, and when he saw me, he saw me so clearly, and so completely, that I couldn’t help but see myself. I saw myself reflected in his eyes, and finally after years and trying and failing, I was able to reconcile the me in my head to the me I saw in his eyes. I was able to see the me my family and friends had spent so many years trying and failing to convince me was there all along. I see myself, she’s a beautiful baddass, and I love the fuck out of her.

If you are reading this and can relate to this in any way at all, I want you to know…no….i need you to know that you are not ugly you are beautiful, you re not worthless. You are perfect. You are not weak, you are powerful. And someone will love you. Someone will one day look at you and wonder how they got so damn lucky. And if you end your life now you will never understand how wonderful that feels. I love you, and I pray you learn to love yourself.