#and while before i was cautious about taking out any loan....i would only do so if i could pay off a majority of the total price

[shummthechumm]

car shopping while everything is inflated to hell is torture actually. do i drop 5k on a well-used car and risk getting shackled to a bad vehicle; or do i take several more months to save up 10k (at minimum) to get a less-well-used car but also restricting my university progression because my campus is 40+ minutes away + im not paying for a dorm

[jamneuromain]

Hello, beauty! Congrats on your follower milestone 🥳

A prompt for you: Ransom + 😌😏

Hi Siri😌❤️

Thank you for your love and support :3

ksjsjskskskks 😏 ←that lil smirk is so Ransom! Hoe-kay, for this I present to you:

Payback Time

Ransom Drysdale x Reader (you)

Summary: Ransom is getting his payback for you, public enemy No.1.

Warning: Step-cest tendency (Cousin!Ramson x Cousin!Reader), not blood related, they are both grown-ups, Ransom is being vengeful, Harlan is very much alive.

Harlan is going to kill him.

Not now, obviously, but when Harlan finds out about what he is doing to you.

Harlan is going to murder him and write this story into a book.

But it doesn't matter. Ransom hums in content, snuggling further under the covers, sighing due to the warm and softness of the bedding.

That old man grows fond of you by day, ever since you came to this mansion on your own with a suitcase of books and clothes. Ransom huffs in annoyance. If there's one thing he cannot stand, is a random person (aka you), materializing out of thin air, completely unrelated by blood or marriage, and sets out to snatch a portion of Harlan's property.

According to the old man, you were the daughter of the adoptive child from Harlan's sister. His sister took care of your mother as her own, and before both of them died of illness, Harlan's brother in-law kicked you out of the house. Which is why Harlan's sister called before your arrival, asking her brother to take care of you. While Harlan and his sister wasn't on best terms when she married her husband, Harlan was far too kind and agreed for you to stay as long as you wish, paying off your college loan and medical bills that his brother in-law kicked out of the house along with you.

You are a pre-med student in your junior year, which means getting up early and going to bed late, spending few hours in the mansion. Even so, you manage to find the time, either learning how to take care of Harlan like Marta, or chatting with Harlan and play chess.

Ransom huffs again, not only were you a kiss-ass, but also stupidly quick learner at chess - Harlan asked Ransom to play against you one night, and you won. But only out of sheer dumb beginner's luck.

So, he's getting his payback.

Ransom tightens the thick duvet around his body - his almost naked body, and listens carefully to the soft creaking in the stairs.

He knows it's you, with your cautious steps up the screeching floor, while you don't want to wake any living soul in this house at 11:30 pm, dragging your tired ass - you have a good ass, by the way - up two floors, and rest in the room, which apparently became yours rather than his, even though every family in this house knows this room was originally his, and that Harlan asked Fran to clean up his room, RANSOM'S ROOM, for you, which Harlan announced that it would make you feel more like home if you were not living in one of the guest rooms.

Oh, so Ransom will feel more like home if he lives in one of the guest rooms when he drops by every holiday?

Harlan is probably charmed by you, some voodoo shit, or drugged by that idiot-brain Marta.

He holds his breath and closes his eyes, pretending to be sound asleep, as the door squeaks open, leading to your small gasp.

"Ransom!" You hiss in the smallest voice you manage, "Ransom! What are you doing in my bed?!"

After he yelled at his mother, calling her an "old hag", changed the lock to this room, and cut holes in your sweater, you know he wants his room back.

Not that you intend to sabotage his plans, being a guest in this household, how on earth can you give the room to him when Harlan has specifically told you that he would find a way for Ransom to stop bothering about which room belongs to whom?

"Ransom!" You hiss again, "I can see your body trembling under the covers! I have a class at eight and I need to sleep!"

Smiling brightly, Ransom pulls the cover down, revealing his - almost - naked body.

"Ransom!" You cover your eyes with a squeal, "Are you- Why- You are naked!"

"Come on, Cousin. You wanna tell me that you are not interested in this?" He gestures down his body as if displaying an exhibit. Cocking an eyebrow, he challenges your sanity with every word that comes out of his mouth, "One good fuck in exchange for my room?"

Silence. Dreadful silence fills the room.

Ransom has that annoying smirk up on his lips, looking down at his grey boxers, "...no? Shame." He swings the thick cover back on, muttering to himself, "Okay. Nevermind. I guess I will just ... enjoy this soft cushy bed on my own..."

"Hugh Ransom Drysdale!" You tear the heavy duvet from his body, "GET OUT OF MY BED!"

Okay fine. He looks like a living Adonis with his abs and biceps. So what?

You avoid looking at his God-like body and his eyes, whisper-yelling, "Get off or I swear I will wake up everyone in this house and tell them about how awful you are!"

Ransom yawns, completely oblivious to your weak threat, which he knows it is the last thing you will do - make a fuss about your living condition in front of all these Cold-blooded creatures.

"Ransom!" You huff at his attempt of grabbing the duvet, "If you insist on taking up my bed, at least you can tell me where the empty guest room is."

"Nope." Answers Ransom, popping the "p" between his wickedly seducing lips, "You got two options here. The floor," he points at the small space between the mahogany desk and the four-posters, "or here." He pats on his bed - wait that's your bed! - softly, "With me."

You clutch the edge of your sweater tightly, a small movement that did not missed Ransom's eyes.

"Or good luck finding Franny in this god forsaken house and 'waking up everyone' to tell them about how I mistreated my cousin." Ransom grins, "So, what do you think?"

It doesn't surprise Ransom when you take the duvet completely and roll up some of your clothing for a makeshift pillow on the floor. You are too tired to argue and too scared to disturb a family you barely know.

You turn off the light and lie down on the ground without another word.

... he may have gone a little too far.

His heart skips a beat when he hears a soft sigh of yours. Why should he feel weird about this? You are the one who is about to be part of Harlan's will and snatch Harlan's adoration. Taking up your bed - his bed, whatever whose bed seems childish. It bothers you, sure, but he never wanted for you to sleep on the ground.

Christ, why couldn't you be a kiss-ass for him like how you treat Harlan? That way he'd feel much more comfortable about making you sleep on the cold, hard, creaking floor - ugh!

Ransom cannot bear the thought any longer of you sleeping on the ground, which is why he gets up from the bed, swings his sweater and pants over his shoulders, and kicks your foot condescendingly, "Your bed sucks." Before strolling out of the room, stepping on the staircases loudly so the entire house could hear.

You suck. He thinks, setting foot on the creakiest spot he could find for these wooden planks. And if he cannot sleep at almost 12 o'clock, neither will the rest of the house.

Find Jammy's 500 Follower's Celebration here 👈

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[girlmeetsliv3]

Cruel Liaisons

~~ Previously Lingerlust ~~

A/B/O!MiniMoni x Reader; Poly BTS

“When one strikes the heart of another they seldom miss, and the wound is invariably fatal.”

Release Date: May 7th, 2021 @ 12:15 p.m. (GMT-5)

Apologies for the late update. Hope you enjoy it.

Trigger Warnings: blood and gore.

February 2nd, 2022

           “Please state your name for the record.”

           “Jeon YN.” YN stared at the recording machine in front of her, it looked antiquated like the type that wasn’t automatically connected to a cloud or storage system. “Those types have to be manually saved. Which can come in handy.” The officer’s cleared their throats, drawing back YN’s attention. What were their names again? “We need you to state your sub-gender as well.” The one on the left spoke lowly, his voice coming out a bit tense and nervous. “Beta.” When YN tried to smell them, she noticed both were wearing scent blockers, though her sense of smell was never her strong suit.

           “This is officer Park Sooyoung and officer Kim Jisoo.” The taller one stated, her tone dull, as if she rather be anywhere else. Judging by the bags under her eyes and the large cup of coffee in front of her – a bed seemed to be her choice. Officer Kim reached to the ground and placed a file on the desk, she opened it to reveal a series of photographs; five to be precise. Males and females from around a same age group are placed with one female in the center, she looks strangely familiar to YN. The rounded tip of her nose and arched brows but she can’t quite place the face. There is someone YN does recognize though, a face she saw just a few days ago.

           “Anyone you recognize?” Officer Kim asks, her tone is serious but airy. The smile on her face after every sentence lets YN know that she’s the ‘good cop.’

           YN points at the second photo from the left, “Him. I saw him in a missing persons ad on the news, but he didn’t look this old.” They had likely picked a picture from when he was younger, the man on the news held a bright smile. His jawline sharp and his cheekbones high but not defined. The man in the photograph in front of her had a pronounced jawline, hollow cheeks, and an ugly scowl that did nothing to mar his features. ‘K.T’ read the bottom.

           “What news channel and around what time?”

           “KBS, maybe late evening. I watch it before I go to sleep.”

Both officers nod, as Park shifts around on her seat. Now facing directly at YN, resting both elbows on the metal table. “Are you aware of the reason you were brought into the station today?” Officer Kim jumps in before YN can answer, “Just so you know you aren’t being charged with anything.”

Yes. “No, I don’t know.” She shrugged, keeping her eyes level and gaze neither too intense nor too bored.

“You’re here due to your affiliation with Alpha’s Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin,” Park spoke, “They’re your employers, correct?” There was an edge to her voice that YN recognized. Many people weren’t fond of them – many had a reason not to be.

“Yes.” YN nods.

“How long have you worked for them?” Kim asks.

YN notes how neither women are writing anything down, nor looking towards the one-sided mirror behind them. Are they perhaps recording this with a second device? If that’s the case it's not just her voice YN must be cautious of, but her expressions as well. “Around nine months, I’m their housekeeper and take care of Hyunwoo.” After a bit of silence from the police, she elaborates more, “I cook, clean, and help the child with his homework.”

“That’s quite a lot for just one person. Especially considering you have little background in those areas before you were hired, correct?”

They’re trying to bait me. “I’m used to doing those things at home.” YN shrugs, she can see the growing frown on Park’s features.

“How exactly did you hear about the job?” Kim leans forward, but one of her hands drops below the table. Park’s eyes dart over to her partner for a second, but YN catches it. Kim likely gave her a signal or something like a reassuring squeeze, YN hopes it’s the latter. “What was the hiring process like?”

“From an acquaintance Dr. Sihyuk.” Both officers nod along, they don’t seem to recognize the name. “Bang’s dead. Unlikely anyone will find something there.” They always knew to cover their bases. “Um, normal, I guess. I sent in an application and then had an interview.”

“You made a lot of money as the Kim’s housekeeper. Did you never ask yourself where that money was coming from?” It seemed the officers were done trying to be subtle.

“No, it wasn’t my place. Plus, most of the money I earned went into paying family debts.”

“Do you know Kim Namjoon’s or Park Jimin’s source of income?”

“Again no. I just did what I was supposed to do.”

“You never thought to ask?”

“No.”

Sooyoung smirks, “Interesting how everyone around the Kim’s just accepts things at face value. Their co-workers, drivers, bodyguards, even their housekeeper just does what their told. You weren’t even a little bit curious as to how they could possibly afford the lifestyle they have?”

“Curiosity killed the cat.” YN’s arms were clenching around the chair, trying to hold herself back from reacting negatively to the hassling.

“But we aren’t cats.” Sooyoung remarks and for a second YN feels like she’s lost a battle. Jisoo points to the picture in the center, it's a beautiful young woman with flowy hair and a bright smile. Her delicate features give away her omega nature. Though the closer YN inspects the picture, they’re bags under her eyes, permanent frown lines etched onto her face, a hollowness to her eyes. She looks somewhere between life and death. “Do you recognize this woman? You lingered on her a bit longer than the rest of them.”

The longer YN stares at her the more she starts to piece things together, but it still feels like she’s missing something. So she gives a generic answer. “She looks kind of familiar. Has that kind of face.”

“What kind of face?” Jisoo questions.

“Like…pretty, popular, all over billboards kind of face.”

It's enough to satisfy them for now. They slowly start removing all the pictures while leaving only the woman’s, the longer YN sees it the more unnerved she becomes. Her head begins to hurt as another migraine begins to pound at her temples. Creating a sort of hazy fog over YN’s mind. Both officers’ then hold up the picture and flip it revealing a picture of the same woman holding a young child wrapped in blankets. She looks so much happier, so full of life. Instantly YN places her, recognizing the toddler wrapped in blue velvet.

“This is Hyunwoo’s mother. The last time anyone saw her alive was three weeks ago when she just so happened to be having dinner with your employers.” Fuck.

Present

           YN’s phone dings as another text from Mark appears on her screen: ‘boss wants to know when you’ll start paying?’ She groans exhaustedly, responding with ‘I have been paying. He gets half my salary every week.’ Which hasn’t made living very comfortable for YN, but she makes do with what she can.

           Mark: It’s not enough princess, not with the way daddy’s been spending money.

           Me: What am I supposed to do if you keep giving him money?!

           Mark: That’s not up to me. So, the money?

           Me: I’m looking for a second job. One that pays better.

           Mark: Just go sell your eggs or something. Not like you have any use for them.

           “Asshole.” YN muttered, muting her notifications. She looked up to the entrance of the fertility clinic debating whether or not to go in. It wasn’t like she had much of an option; she needed the money and fertility clinics were the only ones willing to provide big sums of money fast. Not to mention she had missed a day of work to make the appointment, which meant less money to give to Mark. I hate this. I hate this so much. YN was about to walk away, leave everything when she spotted a black BMW parked on the curve. Its driver observing her intensely. She knew what it meant.

           Mark was getting pushy. Meaning his boss was getting pushy and YN didn’t need to be on the bad side of some loan shark – not again. So, she mustered up the courage and opened the glass doors, being hit with the smell of lavender and pheromones. It reeks. Nonetheless, she forced a smile on her face and walked towards the front desk. “Hello, I have an appointment with Dr. Sihyuk.”

 “Unfortunately, there is a limit to how many eggs we can safely remove from you. Betas aren’t like omegas, you have a set number of eggs. Removing the majority of them would leave you infertile. We’d also be unsure of whether the eggs are useful or not without running the proper examinations which can take weeks.” Dr. Sihyuk explained as he went over YN’s medical file, each sentence uttered destroying her hope little by little.

“I understand but I am quite fertile. I carry a recessive gene from my father who is an omega. Not to mention I’m not interested in having children so I would have no use for my eggs,” she could sense the doctor’s hesitation, “unlike someone who might benefit from them.” I just really need the money.

“Oh, I know, you betas are lucky in that sense. Don’t have to worry about population growth.” Though it was said jokingly it still made YN uncomfortable, let her know he wasn’t buying her bullshit. The doctor closed the file, “Why exactly are you interested in donating your eggs? Is it for the money?” He saw right through her.  At her silence the doctor sighs, “We get one of you every once in a while. Always wrapped up in some business started by a family member or mistakes you’ve made.” Sihyuk opens a file cabinet beside him and shoves her file in there, “Unfortunately for you there’s no market for beta eggs.”

YN sags exhaustion and fear taking over her, “I –” Sihyuk takes a small white business card out of the cabinet holding it out towards her. “Fortunately for you, I happen to know someone hiring. They specified only betas applied.” Hesitantly YN takes the card, “What kind of job?” Though she knows one should never look a gift horse in the mouth it feels to good to be true. “A housekeeper for an alpha couple. They’re long-time associates of mine. Give them a call you won’t regret it.”

 Evening of June 20th, 2021

           Hyunwoo wouldn’t stop crying. YN truly regretted feeding him chocolate before bed, he had nightmares that had not let the three-year-old rest. Though YN had time and time again reassured them there were no monsters under his bed or strange men coming to take him at night, he wouldn’t hear of it. Insisted she had stayed in bed with him and when that didn’t work cried out for his daddies. The issue being his daddies were currently busy, in the middle of their ruts with their weekly guests. Thankfully, their bedroom was across the apartment from Hyunwoo’s, or else she’d have to explain to the child that the screams being heard didn’t belong to ghost.

           “I want papa! I want daddy!” Hyunwoo shrieked, snot and tears dribbling down his face. At this rate, he’d get himself sick if he didn’t permanently injure his vocal cords – or her hearing.

           “I know. I know, but they’re busy right now. I can go get them later.” When their guests are gone and they’ve cleaned their bedroom. YN never quite knew how they manage to sneak them out and clean up so fast, but she didn’t question it. Less work for me.

           “NO! I want them now!” Hyunwoo bolted towards the door, his little legs running as fast as they could. Though they couldn’t compare to YN’s.

           She hugged the toddler, “Alright. I’ll go get your daddies but you have to promise me you’ll wait in bed.” Hyunwoo began to shake his head, “Come on Woowoo, imagine what they’ll say if they hear you threw a tantrum. What would daddies say?”

           That seemed to sober him up a bit, “They would be disappointed.”

           “Exactly,” YN led him back to bed, gently tucking him in. “I’ll be right back with them soon, okay?”

             The hallway felt eerily long as YN struggled with how to politely interrupt without being subjected to the alpha’s rages. Ruts were an especially tricky time and there would be very little she could do to protect herself if it took a turn for the worse. Not to mention she was breaking one of the very few rules set by them: no bothering us after nine pm. YN glanced at her watch, it was currently 11:43 pm. I am so going to lose my job. But Hyunwoo needed his parents, and she didn’t want to risk the toddler running into their bedroom and being witness to something that would certainly cause trauma. Not to mention I might get sent his therapy bills. More debt. YN reached their bedroom doors. A light red hue leaking from the bottom, she willed all her courage and knocked.

        ��  “Come in, darling.” Jimin spoke, his dulcet tone sounding a little rougher than normal. Surprisingly the door was unlocked, so YN opened it. At first, she saw nothing out of the ordinary, just Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin laying in their bed. The red silk sheets, she so often had to wash, concealing their more intimate parts. It wasn’t until YN noticed the stains covering their bodies and the walls. It caused her eyes to dance around the room until she landed on what had caused such a mess: the two dismembered bodies lying on the floor. The red lighting of the room serving to conceal what the stains truly were: blood.

           Namjoon beckoned her inside with a wave of his hand and YN felt obliged to obey. She could still smell the pheromones in their air, still feel their rut. Not to mention, Hyunwoo might have been following her. She locked the door behind her.

           “To what do we owe the pleasure?” Namjoon spoke, smirking and showing off his blood-stained pearly teeth.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Place To Call Home: Oh Baby

Summary: The reader and TJ decide to have their first baby together and the experience is anything but simple...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 3,600ish

Warnings: language, pregnancy, pregnancy/delivery scare

A/N: Enjoy!

______

“Hey,” you said, rubbing TJ’s bare back in bed after he’d gotten Allie down for bed. He groaned happily as you gave him a massage, sinking further into the mattress. “You’re rocking this dad thing you know.”

“Back at ya mom,” he laughed. “You really think so? Cause I’m scared shitless half the time.”

“Same. But she’s happy and healthy and safe. We must be doing something right,” you said. He patted your leg and you slid off of him, TJ rolling to his side and wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you down. “What are you thinking, handsome?”

“I noticed you haven’t taken any birth control this week,” he said. 

“We said we’d talk tonight about it. I wanted to be prepared,” you said. He brushed his hand over your cheek and your whole body felt warm at the touch. “This is way off base of our plan for kids. We can totally wait if you want to.”

“We could. But we said way back when we talked about this that when we had kids, we wanted to keep them not too many years apart. Allie will be more than two by the time we have one. I know our plans got changed completely when she came into the picture.”

“Well, the original plan was two of our own and then when they were in their teens, we’d look at adoption for number three. What do you think?” you asked.

“I think it doesn’t matter what our plan is today. It’ll probably change in some way. It already did,” he said.

“Do you want to make a baby?” you asked. 

“Yeah,” he said softly, sliding his hand down to your stomach. “I can’t imagine how adorable of a child you would make. Let’s start trying. Allie deserves a brother or sister.”

“Are you sure? We could wait until your student loan is paid off,” you said.

“Did I not tell you?” he asked. You shook your head and he smirked. “Work pays off my loan for me as long as I stay there.”

“Where’s the money in the budget for your loan going then?” you asked.

“It’s still student loan but it’s for Allie or kids to use. We got plenty and you got your raise and-”

“Raise? I didn’t get a raise.”

“Jensen said just the other night…oh I wasn’t supposed to tell you that,” he said.

“I’m getting a raise?” you asked. 

“Yeah. Like a big one. For how you’ve been stepping up lately,” he said. “Don’t let it out that I said something.”

“I won’t. So we can afford another kid, we have the time, the energy, Allie’s a good age...sounds like we got our ducks in a row,” you said. 

“Wanna make a baby?” he smirked. “And then love it forever and ever?”

“Fuck yes I do,” you said. “Now get naked and let’s have some fun.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Six Weeks Later

“Want me to write down anything else for the grocery store?” asked TJ as you sipped on some coffee while Allie ate part of a waffle at the breakfast table. “I haven’t bought pads or tampons in a while. You’re probably running low.”

“Yeah, you can…” you said, staring at him. “I haven’t had my period TJ. I’m two weeks late.”

“I’ll get a pregnancy test,” he said, a cautious smile on his face.

“Yeah. I’ll call the doctor, see if I can get an appointment in soon,” you said.

“I’ll be back as quick as I can,” he said. 

“Momma, waffle,” asked Allie from her high seat, opening her hand up, her plate wiped clean.

“Sure thing, honey,” you said, TJ flashing you a quick smile before he was gone.

“Hey babe,” you said half an hour later into the phone. “You still at the store?”

“Heading for checkout now. Want me to pick up-”

“I just got my period,” you said. “Just now.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you said. “We can do the test to make sure, like triple make sure and I still have an appointment for the afternoon.”

“Okay,” he said, sounding a little off.

“We only tried that one night,” you said. “And we weren’t really even trying. We were having more fun with not using a condom for the first time than actively trying really.”

“True. We got a little carried away,” he said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck and his cheeks sporting a light blush if you had to guess. “Do you want to like, really try?”

You turned your head and saw Allie sticking some pads to herself where she sat on the bathroom floor and you smiled.

“For some crazy reason, yes, yes I do. Also, I need more pads. Allie’s playing with them,” you said.

“Alright. I’ll pick up something special for dinner,” he said. “Love you.”

“Love you too, babe.”

Three Months Later

“Another beer?” asked your dad as he stood up from your back patio. 

“I can get it,” you said, TJ handing you his empty, Allie passed out on his chest from where the three of you sat around the fire. “I want a snack anyways.”

You ruffled his head and wandered inside, your dad following you in to use the bathroom. You took out a beer and set it on the counter before you opened the freezer and pulled out a pint of ice cream.

“Someone’s got a sweet tooth lately,” he said. He took out a beer for himself and cracked it open, smiling at you. “Been awhile since I’ve seen you have a drink. Not that you did a lot but the empty calories line doesn’t seem so convincing at the moment considering the tub of cookie dough in your hand.”

“You think I’m pregnant?” you laughed. He shrugged and you shook your head. “No way. Just been trying to eat healthier. TJ ate most of this anyways.”

“You’re really not?” he asked.

“No. When’s mom and everybody come home again? Tomorrow? TJ and I wanted to have everybody over for dinner,” you said.

“Sounds good,” he said. You stuck your head around him, looking at TJ outside. “What’s up?”

“Okay I kinda want your opinion on something. I got a present for TJ’s birthday but I’m not sure if he’ll like it,” you said.

“What is it?” he asked. You left and ducked into your office, smiling to yourself but wiping it off your face by the time you returned. You held out a box to him, your dad opening it up. He looked confused as he held up a pair of blue sneakers. 

Very small blue sneakers.

It took him a second but soon he was staring at you, a funny look on his face you remembered seeing on your wedding day.

“Liar,” he grinned.

“I know,” you said, getting a big hug from him. 

“You’re gonna have a little boy,” he said, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“That’s what the sonogram said. You’re the first person we’ve told. We wanted to wait a few months to make sure everything was okay before we said something.”

“How far along are you?” he asked as he peeled away, staring at your stomach.

“About three months. We found out the sex earlier this week,” you said. “You can touch, it’s okay.”

“I didn’t realize you guys were trying,” he said. He put a careful hand on your stomach, smiling to himself. “You made a baby.”

“We wanted Allie’s sibling to be close in age. We only like actually tried once. We were kind of surprised it happened so fast,” you said.

“Does it feel any different than Allie? It’s not like you’re a parent for the first time again but I imagine it’s got to be a little different,” he said, pulling his hand away.

“Obviously this time I’m actually going to be the one having him but I don’t know, it doesn’t feel that different.”

“Good,” he said, smiling still. “These two are gonna grow up and not even think about who was adopted and who wasn’t.”

“TJ thinks he’s gonna have his black hair.”

“He could. Boys are a spitting image of their fathers sometimes,” he said. “A little boy. He’s gonna grow up just fine with you and TJ.”

“Do you have any advice for boys?” you asked.

“Love him the same as you love Allie. Teach him boys can love and cry and feel their feelings and to help others and he’ll turn out to be just as good a man as TJ.”

“You’re not half bad either,” you said with a smirk.

“I could have been better, especially when I was younger.”

“Dad, you were shy. Mom’s told me stories. You’ve always been good. I know you feel stuff, you just like to process it inside and on your own sometimes, like me. Look at Zepp. What other boy do you know that talks to his dad about stuff the way you guys do?”

“Oh I could name a few,” he said.

“You’re doing good is all I’m saying cause you’re good. We just hope he’s kind and good too,” you said.

“Love ‘em and the rest of it pretty much works out on its own,” he said. “Oh. Changing diapers? Cover them at all times. Like every single time. You’re gonna get pissed on a lot more with a boy, especially in the face.”

“Oh god, dad,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Just being honest,” he chuckled. “Not much difference though.”

“As long as he’s happy, I’m good,” you said. “Are you...surprised? Happy? None of the above?”

“You are a kickass mom. I can’t quite describe it but yeah, let’s just say I’m happy,” he said. “I’m so happy for you both and to have another munchkin around. I’m proud of you, kiddo.”

“Thanks,” you said. “Second one should be easier, right?”

“Should. It’s your first time pregnant though. I’m sure we’re gonna run into some fun things for sure.”

Five Months Later

“Hey dad,” you said, giving him a wave in the parking lot. He smiled and you walked over before you headed off into the park with him. 

“How’s work going?” he asked. “All ready to go out next week?”

“You know most people don’t take the month off before their due date,” you said.

“Most people don’t work for mom and dad,” he chuckled. “You’re covered. I see you back at that brewery for anything more than a beer run and we’re gonna have problems.”

“I know, grumpy. I’m good. Well, I was until I was driving over here to walk and my stomach started killing me,” you said. He stopped and you walked ahead of him. “What? You forget your phone or something? We can-”

“Fucking shit,” he said. He grabbed you and you made a face as he walked you quickly back over to his car. 

“Dad, what-”

“There’s blood dripping down your leg,” he said, not even bothering with his seat belt before he was backing out and speeding away. You glanced down, a small thin streak drying on your skin. You reached under your shorts and felt more wetness, a pit forming in your stomach. “Y/N, are you listening to me?”

“What?” you said as he ran through a red light.

“I said you need to call TJ right now and tell him to meet us at County West. You’re having the baby right now.”

“S’not supposed to be bleeding,” you said quietly. 

“I know. On the bright side, it could just be a little tear and that’s what it is and you and the baby are perfectly fine.”

“When has my life ever been on the fucking bright side,” you said. “Something’s wrong isn’t it.”

Your dad hit a few buttons on the wheel before the sound of ringing filled the air.

“Sup, Jensen?” said TJ.

“County West. The baby is coming. Move your ass now,” said your dad before he hung up.

“Oh, I’m completely not worried now,” you said. You shut your eyes and by the time you opened them, you were parked and the drivers door was open. Your dad ran over to the entrance and said something, somebody coming out with a stretcher. You rolled your eyes but let a few nurses and a doctor you were guessing move you on top of it.

“How far along?” asked the doctor.

“I’m-” you said, throwing your head back when pain shot across your abdomen. You screamed, a bit surprised at yourself honestly and suddenly were inside, your dad talking a mile a minute to the people that were rushing you down the hall.

“Y/N, I’m Dr. Astle. Are you having contractions?” she asked.

“I don’t…” you said, shouting again when pain hit you. “Gah, it’s not supposed to hurt that bad, right?”

“No, it’s not,” she said. You kicked when you felt it happening again, your dad grabbing your hand and using his other to run over your head. 

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “The doctor’s are gonna fix you and the baby up like that.”

“We need to do an emergency C-section,” said Dr. Astle as you realized your shorts had been cut off.

“Dad don’t look that way,” you said.

“You and me right here,” he said with a smile. “You’ll be fine. You’ll be just fine. Just breathe.”

“TJ needs to be here,” you said. 

“Tall munchkin I don’t think they can wait,” he said.

“They’re gonna wait over my-” you said, a flop of sweaty black hair running past the room. “TJ!”

“Hey!” he said as he jogged back to the doorway. “Are-holy shit. That’s a lot of blood.”

“TJ, up here,” said your dad. 

“We need somebody from maternity, Dr. Astle,” said a nurse.

“Baby and mom do not have the time. You’re the husband?” asked the doctor, TJ nodding. “If mom passes out, you’re calling the shots.”

“Please don’t pass out,” said TJ.

“I’ll try…” you said, something tearing inside and you were out before you could even register the pain.

You woke up in a quiet room, your dad sitting in a chair and bouncing his leg like crazy. You tried to stretch and felt your abdomen was flatter, hand instantly shooting to it. You looked around but saw no sign of TJ or a baby and swallowed.

“Dad,” you said quietly. His head shot up and he was out of his chair like that. 

“Hey. How you feeling?” he asked.

“Is the baby…” you swallowed.

“He is a perfectly healthy boy. Big boy. Your due date was off by a couple weeks they think. You were over nine months. He got a little too big for ya. The placenta started to tear and he was kicking at it they think which is why you were in so much pain,” he said.

“Okay,” you said with a big smile. “As long as he’s good, I’m good.”

“He’s up in the nursery with TJ, just letting him get some rest while you got some. You had some pain but you’re okay. Perfectly capable of more kids. Maybe we use a different doctor next time is all,” he said.

“Can I go see him?” you asked, surprised to not feel a bandage across your stomach. “I thought they did a C-section?”

“Well, you passed out pushing him out in one go. Doc said you’d be sore for awhile,” he said. “Let me go see if I can find your boys.”

“Dad,” you said as he turned to go. “Did I do that?”

You nodded to his bruised hand and he shrugged.

“Let’s just say in labor you is kind of terrifying,” he said. 

“Dad,” you said and he sat on the edge of the bed. “Thank you. I was freaking out before.”

“Little secret, I was freaking out more,” he said with a chuckle. “You, you were just thinking about the baby. Me, me I was thinking about the baby and you. Understand?”

“Yeah. Go get me my son, old timer,” you said, shutting your eyes again.

“Yes mam,” he said, rubbing your arm. “You did real good today, kiddo.”

“I’m getting a letter later, aren’t I,” you said. He laughed and felt him ruffle your hair.

“I’ll save it for when you guys head home. Nothing’s gonna top this,” he said. You heard the door open and opened your eyes, TJ walking inside with a bundle of blankets in his arms.

“You’re kind of a badass, you know that right?” he said.

“It’s why you married me, isn’t it?” you teased. “I want to meet him.”

“I told you I’d bring you back around to see mommy,” he said. Your dad slipped out as TJ sat on the edge of the bed and handed you over your son. You giggled when you saw the black head of hair under his blue cap. “Told you he’d have my hair.”

“It’s a good thing your daddy is pretty,” you said, booping his little nose. “How’d you get here so fast?”

“I was at work. I took the stairs and then sprinted over. The hospital’s only a few blocks away,” he said.

“Why are you in scrubs?” you laughed.

“May or may not have ripped my pants in the said sprinting. Your mom is gonna bring me some clothes when she comes up. Somebody had to go and be all dramatic with his entrance,” he said.

“Dad said the doctor got my due date wrong,” you said.

“Based on my math, you actually did get pregnant that first night we fooled around. Your period was super light when you had it and the doctor did say some people can have them during pregnancy, especially at the beginning if…”

“Dude. I know how it works,” you said. “He’s cute.”

“I know. There’s a couple of really ugly babies down the hall. We got lucky,” he said. You laughed and the baby looked up at you, quickly shutting his eyes. “Someone’s smitten.”

“He’s not the only one,” you said. “You ever decide on a boy’s name?”

“What do you think about Colin? I know it wasn’t on the list but-”

“It’s perfect,” you said, giving the baby a kiss. “Just like you, aren’t you Colin.”

One Week Later

“Dad,” you said when you caught him peeking over the back of the couch again. “He didn’t wake up in the span of the last three seconds you weren’t looking at him.”

“Your father’s in love,” laughed your mom as she set a bag of takeout down in front of you. “I got tacos, burritos, quesadillas, nachos and brisket per your request.”

“Mmm,” you said, TJ reaching his hand into the bag. You stared up at him and he slowly backed away. “That’s what I thought.”

“TJ, yours is in with the other containers,” she said, setting a few containers down on the counter. Your siblings all grabbed one and took off to the movie room, JJ taking Allie up with them and your mom and TJ wandering into the kitchen and talking quietly. Your dad was still looking over the back of the couch and smiling down into the crib. 

“He awake?” you asked.

“No. Just adorable,” he said. 

“Well get dinner grandpa,” you said, reaching over to the end table for your drink and pausing. You shut your eyes and felt it pass, your dad suddenly right there and helping you to your feet. “Thanks.”

“Still sore?”

“Oh yeah,” you said. You sat up at the counter, grabbing a taco first and taking a big bite. “I’ve been dying for one of these for months.”

“Hopefully the spice doesn’t bother you too much,” he said, stealing a nacho from your bag. He looked over at the crib, Colin making a half-giggle sound. “Kiddo. Do me a favor.”

“What?” you asked.

“Enjoy it. They grow up faster than you think,” he said.

“I know,” you said. He nodded and you saw him look sad for a split second. “Dad?”

“Hm?”

“Just cause I made a baby doesn’t mean I’m not your kid anymore,” you said. “Based on how you are, I’ll never grow up so win-win for you.”

“Loser,” he said, ruffling your hair with a smile before he took your burrito. “Speaking of which, I was gonna prank the trio once they start watching scary movies later. You in?”

“Duh,” you said.

“That’s my girl.”

___________

A/N: Read the Jensen’s Day timestamp here!

[inknopewetrust]

adieu, remember me. (1)

The Old Guard Booker x Female! Original Character

Summary: After a few years away, one member of the immortal team must return to protect their immortality and secrets as enemies begin to uncover their past.

Word Count: 1.6k 

Warnings: nothing yet!

Parts: ... | 2 | part 2 coming soon!

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think about the work and it will def be more than 2 or 3 parts and longer than this one. Requests are CLOSED at the moment and I apologize in advance for any mis-wording or spelling in different languages because I don’t know french/italian but I feel in some cases it was necessary to use for character interactions. Published on 8/9/2020.

if you want to be tagged for the next part please let me know!

All original content is owned by me. Anything from the film/comic is property of the writers, studio, and director. Gif not by me.

Versailles evolves every so often but over 172 odd years, more visitors pack its halls and recall its history. Tourists from around the world flock to the once functional palace and the home of infamous, complicated monarchs. Passed the sweeping halls and the paintings of untouchable status, a special exhibit was placed at the end of the hall with cases full of crowned jewels of French royalty.

Tourists flashed photos of crowns and rings and pearls that adorned the exhibit cases. In the center of the room laid perhaps the most famous of jewels, as well as the crowns that found themselves on the heads of women who suffered terrible fates. The Hope Diamond sat in a case between crowns that once adorned it and worn by Marie Antoinette and Louis Philippe I’s controversial daughter, Vivienne, Duchess of Auvergne. On loan from its final resting place at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C., the diamond once found itself imbedded in each of the crowns on momentous occasions.

Crown worn by Vivienne, Duchess of Auvergne and third daughter of King Louis Philippe, killed by French revolutionaries in February 1848. Crown was commissioned by the King for his daughter’s twenty-eighth birthday. Was worn on the night of her death on 24th of February, 1848.

Twenty-eight. 172 years later she still remember the party, the food, the smell of the candles that burned from the chandelier and the man who caught her heart. Pretentious was the only word that came to mind when she thought of the party and the woman. At the time she felt deception too but the world has a funny way of making villains look like heroes depending on the perspective.

Clara felt the surge of memories remind her of the life she knew before the one she was in now. She didn’t know how long she had stood in front of that particular case with that particular diamond and crown but by the time her feet began to ache she knew it had been long enough. Clara also wasn’t sure how long a small English girl had been standing next to her, also staring at the silver diamond encrusted crown and the plaque underneath it.

“You know, she’s kind of a rebel and I dig it. It reminds me of Princess Margaret in a way. She was Queen Elizabeth’s sister and she partied a lot too.”

“Excuse me?”

“Vivienne. She was a rebel in her own right and I admire her for it.” The woman turned, her face meeting the girl taking notes on a piece of paper. The girl couldn’t have been more than thirteen and certainly had a bold personality if she was talking to someone she didn’t know.

“The revolutionaries didn’t see it that way, so why would you?”

“She was independent. I think it was progressive and cool for her not to follow the rules of her family. Not to mention the glamour in her style. She had the best dresses and crowns since well, Marie Antoinette probably.”

“That’s a little naïve, no?” The woman raised her brow at the student but the girl simply shrugged. The young one looked at the older woman and analyzed her face and features as she spoke.

“She spent the people’s money like water and saw no problem with the poverty in the streets. Vivienne was oblivious to the world around her because she lived in a world of riches with everyone at her disposal.”

“Perhaps.” The girl paused before continuing. “There’s a tv show about her on... um-I don’t remember- HBO maybe and they say she took a commoner for a lover and he sold her secrets to the revolutionaries which led to her death. Her body disappeared after the broke into the castle and people think they threw her body in the Seine.”

“I would advise you to stop watching whatever movies are giving you that perspective on the issue because it’s not true.” Clara scoffed and turned away from the girl.

The girl listened but was too entranced by the figure in front of her eyes. Brown hair, medium length, waved. She looked nice to say the least. She had on pretty clothes and may have been an employee because she knew so much but the girl wasn’t sure. All the student was certain of was that the woman standing in front of her looked very much like the Duchess in the paintings that lined the modern wing.

“You look like her.” The girl told her and she put her pencil down holding the pad of paper at her side. Before she had a chance to answer the girl, a teacher called out to the students as a signal to leave and the girl picked up her bag.

“Have a nice day.”

The girl left with the class and the woman stayed in front of the case watching them leave the room before turning back to the crown that once adorned her own head. A soft rumble came from her pocket and she pulled out the burner phone with a number she didn’t recognize but an area code she did, Goussainville.

France, safe house #4

“Hello?”

“Clara.” The Italian on the other line sounded relieved that she simply picked up the phone. Clara’s face contorted into one of worry than one of happiness she had been called.

“Nicolo, s’il tu plaît dites-moi que tout va bien?” Clara moved over to a window, away from the crowds to answer the call she had been anticipating for the last day. She dreamt of a black girl and her throat being sliced open. Waking up gasping for breath that wasn’t her own and cautious of who it might be.

“No-no. Il y en a un nouveau ... mais ce n'est pas le problème. les gens essaient de nous trouver et Dieu sait quoi.” Nicky told her and Clara felt helpless, disappointed in herself that she wasn’t there to help them. Not only was there someone new who needed guidance but the others needed her too if they were going to protect their own skin.

“Andy went to get her. We are at the safe house in Goussainville and they should be here later today. If you can make it... we really need you, Clara.” Clara sighed and looked out the window that faced the vast gardens the palace was surrounded by. Serenity before the inevitable storm.

“He’d kill me if he knew I’m telling you this but Booker needs you. It’s getting worse since the last time he saw you and I am not sure what to do.”

“That was three weeks ago, Nicky.”

“I can’t explain it... it’s just gotten worse. I know he has to help himself but he’s always a bit brighter when you’re around.”

“I can be there later tonight. What time are they getting in?”

“7.”

“I can be there at 8. I’m in France so I’ll take a train as soon as I can.”

“We will be waiting.” Nicky told her and she hung up the phone. Clara looked back at that glimmering crown and what the young girl said about the Duchess. Naïvety at its finest.

At the safe house in Gousssainville, the three immortal men unpacked the bag they brought and washed up after the ambush in Afghanistan. Nicky stood alongside the small counter space prepping dinner when Booker came to fill a cup with wine.

“Who was on the phone?” Booker asked in a low grumble and Nicky set down the knife he was using to slice tomatoes.

“It was Clara. I called her and told her we needed her here. She dreamt of the girl too.”

“And?” Booker pushed further and downed his glass in an instant upon the news.

“She could catch a train to be here at 8.”

“How did she sound?”

“Worried.”

Booker nodded and filled his glass again before going to sit in front of the tv in a chair he had designated as his own many years ago. Nicky watched as he sat, drank more and tried to remove himself from his thoughts but was too lost to do so. He was observant and cared deeply for the others in his life but there was only so much he could do for a man as stubborn as Booker.

“Hai bisogno di aiuto?” Joe called out to Nicky from everyone’s shared bedroom before also joining the two in the common space. Nicky shook his head and glanced at Booker who wasn’t looking but certainly listening.

“I called Clara. She is on her way to us now. She knows we are in trouble.” Joe smiled at Nicky and gave him a quick peck. While they were all very close, Joe and Nicky had taken Clara under their wings and helped her acclimate to the world as an immortal, especially after they found her and the two french immortals clashed. 

“It’s been too long. I miss that woman.”

“We all do.” Nicky said before returning to his meal. Without much time having gone by, the door to the cemetery sounded and Andy walked through the door with a nervous woman behind them. The girl was young, no more than 25 and had blood stained on her forehead. One hand was clutching her arm but out of nervousness not injury. Her eyes looked at the three men. Two sat staring at her in chairs and the other by the refrigerator and the only sound that played was the cheering of fans from a football match that played on the widescreen. Andy looked over her shoulder and then back again, breaking the silence to introduce the newest member of The Old Guard.  

“Everyone, this is Nile.”

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

Tag List: (Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for the next part!) 

@holychocopie 

[ourplaceinthecosmosphff]

Chapter 29. Borrowed Time

‘Harder days are coming. The loan of borrowed time will be due on the horizon. (...)’ - Ingeborg Bachmann

The most northern village in Savoy was Valois-Narcisse, so small that it wasn’t actually reachable by any form of public transportation. Not a lot of people in Savoy even knew Valois-Narcisse by name; Bayona, on the East Coast, was the closest reference point, a beach village considered an under-rated touristic spot. Historically, Valois-Narcisse was populated by sheep and eggplant farmers, not a very sexy niche, and it was still how the village’s only export to local and regional farmer’s markets.

For the following few weeks after Ascot, every time Harry tried to talk about it, his phone corrected the name to ‘value narcissism’, so by the time I drove past the small, rusted iron sign that read its name, I couldn’t help but smile.

One of the reasons Valois-Narcisse was so abandoned was that it was mostly situated up a mountain. Not at the top of the mountain, exactly, although parts of it were. The village just stretched along the mountain, with most of its commerce and eateries, however scarce, down below, and the houses built towards the top, including a couple of small hostels and, lucky for us, one very odd Airbnb.

The houses, bridges and streets were all built of stone and wood, with wildflowers and weeds growing in between, and across the mountain, beyond the village, stood the vast, beautiful Celtic Sea. On days of low tide, locals swore they could see the outline of the Irish coast on the horizon, at least according to the description on Airbnb.

But even if that was an exaggeration, we wouldn’t have cared, because what drew Harry and I to Valois-Narcisse that weekend was how desolate and empty it was. Paparazzi wouldn’t dream of finding us there, so it was there that we scheduled our first getaway. Our first secret rendezvous. Or, as Harry kept reminding me, our first date.

We had been texting non-stop since I left his house after Ascot, about what happened, and also about all things around us, what we were doing or not, and a lot of nothing. It was over text that we made the plans to meet in Vallois-Narcisse for the first time since getting together, it was over text that we discussed the latest of the Adrien saga (he’d been seen out in a club with the singer-girlfriend and their friends), and it was over text that he informed me that since we never got to go on our date the previous year, during our weekend in Vallois-Narcisse, he was going to pull all the stops to ‘take me out’’.

“Are we going out for dinner?” I asked, in our Airbnb, while I got ready in the middle of the afternoon.

“Not really.” He replied, from the small sitting room right outside our suite. “And stop trying to guess, just get ready.”

He had refused to tell me anything about the date, claiming it was supposed to be as real as the real one would have been and in the real one, it would have been a surprise.

“It’s very hard to get ready when I don’t know what we’re doing.” I sighed. “How casual am I supposed to look?”

“Casual.” He replied, unhelpful. “Maybe wear sneakers.”

“Well, that’s one decision off my conscience.” I mumbled to myself, staring at my options laid out in the bed, my small suitcase open on the floor.

I had chosen a preppy, plaid short skirt in shades of white and blue, and I had all the tops I had brought in the bed as possible options. For shoes, I removed the flats from the lineup, and put on my white Nike’s, turning around to look at the tops again.

“Are you ready? It’s time.” Harry called from the other room.

“Just–! Just give me ten minutes!” I shouted back, nervously.

I realized how ridiculous it was. It was just a gesture – a sweet, romantic, gesture – to have a first date when we had already slept together more than once. More than twice. The previous night, for instance. It made no sense, it was just sweet. So there was no reason to be nervous, and I knew that. Rationally, I knew that.

Still, as I looked at the clothes I brought, I hated every single one. I threw the Jurassic Park tee back into the suitcase – too casual –, and looked at the Kimono top, a greenish blue shade, long, loose sleeves, a nice, laidback fit to contrast with the skirt. The other two options, a tight, square neckline, navy blue, crop top, and a loose, green, blouse with spaghetti sleeves, both matched the skirt and were casual enough, but seemed more appropriate for the weather.

“…It’s been ten minutes.” Harry’s voice came back from the other room, patiently cautious.

“Coming!”

In one panicked move, I grabbed the green, strappy blouse and put it on. I rushed to the bathroom and quickly applied some tinted sunblock to my face. I wanted to apply actual makeup, but convinced myself it was silly. He’d seen me without makeup many times already. It wasn’t a real first date, no matter how big the knot on my stomach was, so I just grabbed a pair of earrings, my every-day necklace, and sunglasses, and burst through the door in a hurry, ready to run as if we had an actual reservation, even though I was perfectly aware that no restaurant in this village town worked like that.

“Okay, I’m ready, let’s go!” I said, looking at him, who startled up from the couch and looked me up and down, appreciatively.

“Mary, wow.” He smiled, slowly, approaching me with careful steps. “You look…”

“What are you doing?!” I laughed, blushing. “You saw me five minutes ago. I look the same. I just put on a different, very casual, outfit.”

“Will you just pretend with me? Please?” He sighed, rolling his eyes. “We never got to have our first date, just… let’s just pretend we’re a normal couple today.”

I shook my head, grinning. “…Fine.”

He took another step towards me and, from seemingly thin air, produced a white daisy.

I sighed. I wanted to say ‘really?’, but I bit down my sarcasm, and took my flower.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful!” I said, adding a little more emotion than necessary.

He sighed heavily, making me laugh. “Come on, ma’am, we have a date.”

“Yes, sir.”

Our Airbnb was in a secluded property at the end of a dead-end granite driveway off of the main road. Instead of taking that direction, however, we walked towards the hike trail in the opposite direction. I wanted to ask what was on the huge backpack he’d brought, but I knew he was just waiting for the opportunity to tell me it was a surprise, so I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He announced we had arrived when we reached a clearing amongst the trees. The grass and weeds were a little high, but nothing that made it impossible for us to sit down and enjoy ourselves. Especially because, as I soon discovered, Harry had a picnic blanket in his backpack. Because Harry had a whole picnic in his backpack.

“A picnic?!” I asked, excited.

“You like picnics?” He smiled, setting the blanket down.

“I love picnics!” I said, excitedly. “Don’t go to many, because… you know, outside, not very safe.”

“Yes, I do know.” He nodded, going through his bag, “Fortunately this place has enough privacy for us.”

“How did you even know to come here?”

“I googled it.” He replied, simply.

From his bag, he took out a bottle of sparkly wine and two ceramic looking plastic plates, which he sat down at opposite ends of the blanket. He then placed two linen napkins, folded, on top, with a set of cutlery over each.

“You thought this through.” I noticed.

“Of course I did.” He shrugged, removing a piece of paper from his pocket and reading it quickly. “I do have visual aids, though.”

In his bag, he also had acrylic Tupperware with a number of cheeses, which he then laid out on a wooden board. In another container, he had brought an assortment of cut veggies with a smaller cup inside, with ranch, which he remembered was my favorite. For our main course, he dramatically revealed large sandwiches from his favorite London restaurant, perfectly packaged and cut, for easier consumption. And for dessert, there were also a number of fruits and two small pots with what looked like cheesecakes.

“This is… incredible.”

He seemed the most flattered I had ever seen him.

“Thank you!” He said, folding his note quickly.

“Can I see that?”

“What? Oh, no, it’s just a little reminder of where things go–Oh–okay.”

I walked over to him and grabbed the paper before he could return it to his pocket; it was a list of instructions on how to set up the picnic, in his own handwriting. It even said ‘transfer cheese to wooden board’ and included a drawing of how to set up the napkins on top of the plates, with the cutlery on top of the napkins.

“This is… so sweet.” I gushed, watching him blush. “Where did you get this from?”

“I googled picnics.” He shrugged. “Well, first I googled first date ideas. Then saw the picnic idea and went on google street view to see if this place would be good for one. Then googled how to do a picnic.” He shrugged, grabbing the paper back and folding it. “Not a big deal.”

It was the way he blushed slightly and still made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal that he put in that much effort into giving us one afternoon where we could pretend we were a normal couple, untouched by tragedy. That’s what made my heart swoon for him.

I didn’t even have time to kiss him, though. He was so adamant to continue as if nothing was the problem that he just held my hand and sat down, pulling me with him.

“So…” He started, smiling. “So good that we are finally able to do this.”

“It is.” I agreed, amused.

“Wine?”

“Yes, please.”

“So, tell me, what is it that you do?” I laughed so loudly he reluctantly joined me.

“I’m sorry, it’s just too weird.”

“Come on!” He complained. “Like a normal first date, just go with it.”

“Okay, okay…” I sighed, still smiling. “What I do for a living… I… I am a lawyer.” He gave me an annoyed look. “What? If I’m talking to someone who doesn’t know what I do for a living, I’m not gonna tell them.”

“Fair. But be honest.”

I sighed. “Alright. I have a law degree from Harvard, which I’m really proud of, and I mostly have experience with copyright law… But I am not practicing right now.”

“Really? How so?”

I gave him an annoyed look this time. “I… I made a career change last year towards working on my… family business.”

He grinned. “How interesting.”

“Thank you. It’s been very rewarding.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t an easy choice to make.”

My smile faltered slightly. “It wasn’t fully my choice… But I’m happy with it, regardless.” I added, to assuage his reaction.

He nodded, silently. After a while, he added, “Are you?”

I shifted the position of my legs under me, using the time it took to think it through.

“Yes. Yes? I think so.” I shrugged. “Honestly, I haven’t really stopped to figure that out… Not exactly a priority.”

“It should be.”

I smiled. Not knowing how to change the subject, I reached out to the platter next to me and grabbed a piece of cheese.

“This is really good.” I added.

He smiled, accepting of the change of subject.

“Alright, time for you to ask something.”

“Oh. Okay… Uhm.” I finished chewing slowly as I thought about it. “Where… are you from? Originally?”

He rolled his eyes, smiling. “I’m from England.”

“Oh, really? Interesting.” I said, overly impressed. “Where in England?”

“London.” He added, grinning. “I was born and raised in Central London.”

“Fancy.” I added, appreciatively, making him chuckle. “Do you like living there?”

He considered this. “…not particularly.”

I stopped chewing. “Really?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know… I mean, I liked it, yes, in that… generic, mandatory way you always feel you must like the place you are from. Like, I will defend it if I must. But… if I had a choice, would I want to spend the rest of my life there? I’m not sure I would.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Well.”

“Go on.” He said, grinning.

“Oh, I just mean… I love New York, it was one of the best experiences of my life living there for a year after law school, even if those memories are tainted with the presence of my ex… But as much as I love New York, and a lot of other places I’ve been to… coming home to Savoy is just…” I shrugged. “I don’t know, I couldn’t imagine staying away forever, you know? It’s home.”

He nodded. “I don’t know, I just don’t have that sense of attachment to England. To my family and friends, sure. But to the place? I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

We were silent for a while, eating cheese and drinking wine, and pondering over the words said. Then he perked up again, cheerily, and said,

“Tell me about your family.”

I gave the sky an eye roll. “…Fine.”

“Wow. So aggressive.” He noted, chuckling.

“Shut up.” I said. “Okay. Well, I’m the oldest of three. My brother was the middle child, but he passed away last year. He was three years younger than me and we got along really well. My sister is about eleven years younger than me, so we are not as close, though we’ve gotten a lot closer recently.”

“That’s nice to hear.” He smiled.

“My mother was born in Northern Savoy, her father is French, her mother is Savoyen. My grandfather has a property management and consultancy business, and my grandmother was always a stay-at-home mother. My mother only has one sister, Aunt Katherine, who’s now taken over my grandfather’s business, though her husband, Merlin, who is a Lord, seems to be making most of the calls. That is the root of most of the disagreements between my mother and Aunt, currently.”

“Tough.” He noted.

“Aunt Katherine has two children, Camille is the eldest, she’s been married to Hamilton Costeau for a few years, he’s a hotshot nightclub owner from the capital, and they’re expecting their first child currently. Her brother, Adam, is a freelance graphic designer, he’s married to a writer named Marcia. They’re probably my most normal relatives except that they’re wild, crazy hippies.”

He laughed. “How so?”

“They had a fully vegan wedding in a bowling alley and they live in a boat.”

He almost spit out his wine laughing. “What?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna need more information.”

“There’s not really that much more to it. To be fair, the vegan menu was actually pretty good and bowling is fun. Haven’t been bowling since, so it’s a good memory. We don’t see them a lot, because of the boat.”

“When you say boat…?”

“Not a yatch or anything like that. It’s one of those small, house boats, like in Amsterdam? Except they actually use it to sail around since they’re both freelance and can work from anywhere.”

“Honestly… that sounds great.”

“They’re cool.” I nodded. “Let’s see… on my father’s side, he has two older sisters. Marilou Bondy is in her sixties, her husband is a Vice Admiral in the navy, and they have two kids in their mid-thirties. Zaccharie, married to Amber, they have two kids who are three and five years-old. Zacc is a business manager in a shipping company, his wife has a graduate degree in Psychology, but now is a stay-at-home mom. Zacc’s sister, Heloise, is CEO of a multinational company, and her husband is a doctor. They’re by far my relatives who’ve got it together the most.”

“Sounds like it, those are some big jobs. They have kids?”

“A two year old, adorable. All my cousin’s children are. We have good genes.” He laughed. “Let me see, what else? My father’s second oldest sister, Stephanie, married a Lord of Luxembourg, uncle Ellis, so they live there. They have three kids, Josephine, Klaus, and Catarina.”

“Klaus! I know Klaus!” He said, happily, “Love Klaus. He’s fun!”

“Yes, he’s… very you.” I noted, amused. “How did you two meet, anyway?”

“Oh, he met a friend of mine during gap year, so my friend introduced us at a festival later on.”

“Of course.” I nodded. “As you know, he works for an investment firm. His youngest sister, Catarina, is twenty-three, she took a few years after school to figure it out, so she’s still finishing her degree. And the oldest, Josephine, is an interior designer, and she’s actually getting married next month, to Marius Allard, who owns a network of gyms in Luxembourg.”

“Royal wedding?” He asked.

“A small one, but yes.”

“You going?”

 “Yes.” I smiled. “Anyway. Then, there’s my father, the middle child, oldest brother, and they also have two youngest brothers. Or, had. Adrien’s father died many years ago of lymphoma, so now Adrien is next in line for the throne after Lourdes. You know him, so no need to go into it.”

“How is he doing in New York, by the way?” He asked, pouring us more wine. “I read he and the singer were seen partying in a boat?”

“For the fourth of July, yes.” I nodded. “My father and the advisors are… how can I say it? Pissed.” He chuckled. “Celebrating an American holiday, half naked, in a boat, with a bunch of celebrities, including his pink-haired girlfriend… they want him to come back.”

“Of course they do.”

“Adrien has a younger sister, Natalie, who’s my favorite.” I said, gushing. “She’s awesome, sweet, positive, always down for a good chat, though not big into parties or crowds–”

“So, the opposite of Adrien?”

“Yes.” I laughed. “Nat is getting her masters in Sorbonne, she studies literature and communications. Their mom, Princess Annette, has been a working royal for many years. Finally, my youngest uncle, Prince Albert, is also a working royal. He divorced his wife about five years ago, which was a huge scandal at the time, but we’ve managed to ride it out, and now everyone gets along fine. His ex-wife is even still a working royal, as well.”

“Woah.” He said, brows raised. “We could learn a thing or two from about how to handle divorce in a healthy way.”

“Agreed.” I said, teasing. “They have three kids. Maryanne is eighteen, currently serving her minimum military course post-graduation. Her brother James is sixteen, he’s in boarding school in Switzerland, and Sarah, who’s ten, attends the same boarding school as Lourdes… and that’s it. Unless you want to hear about my extended family, in which case we might be here a while.”

He nodded. While he digested the info-dump I’d just given him, I took the time to finish my wine and have some veggies and ranch.

“Question.” He said, unwrapping our sandwiches, “Why did you only mention two or three working royals?”

“My father’s oldest sisters lost their title upon marriage, and Aunt Stephanie lives in Luxembourg. Aunt Marilou and her husband do work sometimes, but that’s mostly because of her husband’s Admiral job. So, it’s mostly my father and his brothers who work for the Crown. Since Uncle James died, Adrien and his mom work, too, although he’s in New York now. His sister is still in school, so she’s excused. And that leaves uncle Albert and his ex-wife, and their kids are too young. There’s also some cousins of my father who are working royals, though they also have private careers.”

He nodded. “So that’s why you said you would have to become a working royal eventually.”

“Yep. That’s why a lot of the burden was already mine before, and also why I knew it would eventually be mine again. I just… I had hoped I’d have some time in-between.”

“Well,” he took the cheese platter and moved it to the side, leaning in closer to me. “You have time now.”

“I do, don’t I?” I smiled. “What should I do with it?”

“I have an idea.” He grinned, leaning in the rest of the way to touch his lips to mine.

His hand cupped my jaw as we kissed, my skin warm either from the sun or his touch. I put my glass down, mindlessly, not caring when I felt it fall to the grass. I slid my hand across his hair and laid back down, pulling him on top of me.

It was just one afternoon of borrowed time, but it was ours.

— ---- —

It was a cloudy summey day, not great weather for a royal wedding, but it would have to do because Princess Josephine Anne-Marie Elyse of Luxembourg was ready to become Mrs. Marius Allard.

Normally, we wouldn’t all go to a royal wedding just because we were royals, but we were family this time, so we arrived, my family and I, in Luxembourg two nights before. The rehearsal dinner went without a hitch, and so the following morning we got ready in our hotel and waited with other foreign family members for the shutles that would drive us to the church.

I had changed Harry’s contact on my phone to Hedwig – a name I took from Harry Potter – just in case someone saw me texting him, which was bound to happen as were texting so much more often. This didn’t stop my heart from nearly freezing when I received a photo from him. It was a mirror selfie showcasing him in his ceremony military uniform, black and red, with medals to his chest. The text read: ‘beautiful day for a wedding’.

I sighed; A few weeks prior to this, Harry had excitedly informed me during a late-night facetime call, that his family had assigned him to represent them to Josephine’s wedding.

“Why?!” I asked then, astonished.

“Ouch.” He said, sarcastic. “I’m great at weddings.”

“I’m not saying you’re not.” I said, rolling my eyes. “And of course I want to see you! But… my whole family is going to be there! Isn’t your father supposed to do these things? Or your uncle?”

“My father will be busy, my uncle was going to go, yes, but turns out his son has pneumonia so he’s staying put.” He shrugged. “And since I know Klaus, they figured I would be more familiar to the bride and groom than my brother.”

I was quiet, biting my lower lip nervously.

“What? This is good! I’m excited I get to see you all dolled up so soon!”

But I couldn’t get my excitement to match his – and I tried. It was just too risky, not to mention it felt like the day would be torture. To be near him again and have to pretend I didn’t want to hold his hand? Kiss his lips? Rip the clothes right off his body? It was too much.

Sighing, I went to the bathroom and discreetly took my own mirror selfie showcasing my light pink dress with a darker pink on a slit falling from my hips, and my large disc fascinator, and texted it to him.

‘It is unfair how perfect you look’, he replied. It made me smile, and I tried to hold on to that feeling as we rode to the church.

As family, we were close to the last group to arrive, so when I walked down the red carpeted entrance towards the church behind my parents, all I could think was that Harry must already be inside.

We trotted behind, stopping to salute the military battalion in formation under the country’s flag – a Luxembourg tradition. Military personnel saluted, civilians lowered their heads or curtsied. Since mandatory minimum service was still considered service, I saluted with my father, as mom and Lourdes curtsied.

Inside, we were ushered to the front of the church by a palace aide. Because of the odd number of seats, our parents and I were seated one row in front of Lourdes, who found herself sitting between, of all people, Adrien and Harry.

My parents greeted Adrien, who was there fresh from a plane from New York, and then looked at Harry, who received from then a curt nod before they turned to the front.

"How's...? Uhm?" I started, as my cousin kissed my cheeks.

"Sienna?" He asked, sighing. "Her name is Sienna."

"Right. Sienna."

"She's good. She's recording a new album." He replied.

"How... fortuitous." I nodded, as he took his seat again.

Before I sat down, Harry managed to give me a sneaky wink. I blushed, and turned to the front.

We seemed to be the last frontier between family and important guests, as next to Harry sat other royals and in front of us, were mostly empty seats that filled quickly after we arrived.

Just as the music started, Lourdes, who'd been chatting excitedly between Adrien and Harry, sighed loudly and stage-whispered,

"Ah, damn, I'll barely be able to see Josephine from here." She complained. “Margueritte’s hat is too big.”

As calm as I could, I turned to her, taking the care to make myself sound annoyed. "Do you want to trade seats?"

"Really?" She asked, "Is that allowed?"

I looked at my parents, who were already discreetly looking at us.

"Is it?" I asked.

"I believe so." My father said.

Mom leaned closer to me. "Are you sure you don't mind, chérie?"

I smiled, already getting to my feet. "It's fine. At least this way she'll be quiet."

"I heard that." Lourdes said as she passed me by.

I took her seat and crossed my legs at my ankles, holding my head high facing forward, pretending I didn't see the grin on Harry's face. 

Josephine looked breathtaking; lace bodice, three quarter sleeves, flowy, tulle, ball gown skirt, hair pinned back in a low hairdo, a long veil falling down from her family’s tiara – a Luxembourg tiara –, matching diamond earrings. It was difficult to take my eyes from her, except from one thing.

Harry was touching my hand. His fingers very gently grazed mine, slowly stretching until our middle fingers were enlaced. It was such a simple gesture. Such a light touch. But so many people around who were not meant to know about us. My heart beat faster on my chest and I felt my skin warmer as I remembered all the other ways in which that hand had touched me. I risked a look at him, who stared ahead determinedly.

As the song came to a slow end, I pulled my hand from his, startled, thinking for some reason the silence would make us more visible.

The priest began to speak in a monotone, calm voice up front. By my side, Harry adjusted himself in his seat, leaving his left knee to lightly, but very deliberately, touch mine.

I bit down a grin, sighing. Thinking two could play this game, I reached for the neckline of my dress with my hand, adjusting it slightly as if to fix something, but ‘accidentally’ pulling it down sligthly. As it was V shaped, this enlarged my cleavage only slightly, especially as I crossed my arms over my lap, pulling my breasts together.

I stared ahead, ignoring Harry, but I felt his leg press harder against mine.

“Beautiful wedding, isn’t it?” I whispered to him, pointing my chest in his direction.

“Is this another catholic tradition?” He whispered very lightly leaning closer to me. I smiled, blushing.

I looked down at my lap, fiddling with the program. I had no idea where we were on it, which is why I startled again as suddenly everyone rose from their seats to sing another hymn. I followed, pulling my dress up nervously, but I did leave my arm down hoping Harry would touch my hand again.

It took him what felt like the whole song, but then he finally did. I allowed my own fingers to caress his this time, missing being able to touch him, feeling my palms sweating as the thought.

When we sat down again, and someone else started speaking, he leaned down slowly and asked, whispery:

“Truth or dare?”

I sighed dramatically, and gave him a stern look, hiding my amusement.

“Truth.” I mouthed.

He grinned, and leaned down again. “What were you thinking about during the song?”

What he was asking was, of course, ‘what were you thinking about while our hands touched secretly in the middle of this very full church?’

I leaned to him, but starting ahead, said, “About how good it felt last time you fingered me–”

He sighed, heavily, leaning away from me, adjusting his tie as if it was the most important thing in the world.

He didn’t allow me to ask it back, his eyes stared firmly and frustratingly ahead for the rest of the – very long – service.

When Josephine and Marius walked out as husband and wife, we all waited for their close families to follow and then to the aides to guide us away at the right time. Harry continued to deliberately look away from me at all times. 

We were ushered back into the shuttles with the rest of the family, everyone talking excitedly about their favorite moments of the ceremony. I kept my comments to the dress, the only part I remembered in detail.

The reception was held in the palace; I didn’t see Harry again for a very long time. No one seemed to have noticed anything out of the ordinary, other than Lourdes who asked if I was mad at him because we seemed to have ‘barely spoken’.

As all the guests were in their seats, I finally found Harry in a distant table with other foreign royals who weren’t family. There were speeches, there were dances, there were entrées and champagne, and Harry’s eyes continued to find mine whenever I looked at him. Luckily, I was able to distract myself by my family grilling Adrien about his inappropriate girlfriend.

Conversation was the sound of the night in between courses when I decided to find a bathroom to re-apply my lipstick.

“If you pass by a waiter, would you ask for someone to bring me more water?” Lourdes asked as I left.

“I’m not your maid.”

“Really? It’ll cost nothing–”

“Shut up, of course I’ll do it.”

She rolled her eyes in response.

I was distracted, looking around for a waiter, when my eyes found Harry’s again. This time, too intense to look away. He put his hands in his pocket and pointedly walked out of the hall.

I sighed. It was too idiotic a choice to follow him. Yet, there I was. My feet moving of their own accord.

He walked off down the hallway, calm as can be, stopping only to ask an aide for directions. Down another hallway, he turned to the right, before confidently opening a door, turning back to lock his eyes on mine, and walk inside.

I bit my lower lip and looked around. There was a staff member walking off in the distance, but no one around other than that. I didn’t know if that would last. I walked to the door,  and casually looked around one more time. No one was watching. No one around. I took in a deep breath, and walked inside.

I quickly closed the door behind me, but I had no time to notice anything else. Harry’s lips were on mine, strongly, arms framing me in place against the door. One hand turned the lock, the other traveled up and down my side, his heavy breath on my skin.

“That was not okay.” He said, voice low, anguished, against my neck. “Back there.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I said, innocently. “All I remember is a lovely ceremony.”

He grinned against my neck in between kisses. “Fuck you.”

"It's true.”

“You liked when I fingered you, right?” He asked, lightly biting my earlobe. “Maybe I should do it again, then.”

My whole body trembled at the thought of going back outside, pretending nothing had happened, still pulsating with his touch on me.

“…maybe you should.” I said, weakly, feeling his large hand grasp my breast. “Right here. Right now.”

“…that would be really stupid, now, wouldn’t it?” He asked, reaching down for the hem of my dress, pulling it upwards. “We wouldn’t want to be caught… what would they think?”

“It would be such a scandal.” I agreed, feeling his hands now grip my thighs, pulling me up in one quick move.

He pinned against the wall, legs around his waist, leaving me in the perfect position to feel him thrusting his hardened dick against my crotch.

He touched his forehead to mine, and grinned.

“You’re fucking torture, Your Royal Highness.”

I grinned, happily, wrapping my legs tighter around him.

“You like it.”

He smiled in response, his hands rounded my thighs to reach below in between my legs, finding a path under my wet underwear.

“I do.” He confessed, touching me like it was the very first time. “I like it a lot.”

--- ---- ---

[A/N: Well. This was a lot. LOL what do you think??? A lot of...stuff coming so I wanted to take a chapter for happiness only. Also, I promise all that family tree stuff is important. THANK YOU FOR READING AND SORRY I’M LATE! Have a grat week! Next chapter: invictus games! harry’s birthday! MM and Harry get careless... tune in to find out what happens ;) ]

[mypuddinghasasecret]

[Page 1 front]

                                From the Desk of Erin O'Toole

My Name                                                                  August 20, 2021 My Address City Province Postal Code

Dear My Name,

      What happens now...?

      More than anything else, that's the question Canadians ask me when I speak with them about the future.

      Most Canadians - including me - supported spending money during the pandemic to help those hardest hit and prevent a total collapse of our economy.

      You probably did, too, right?

      But no one told Justin Trudeau's Liberals - and their allies in the NDP and Green Party - planned for that spending to go on FOREVER...

      ... and no one told you that, even after the worst of COVID-19 was behind us, the Liberals, NDP, and Greens planned to exploit the pandemic for risky economic experiments...

      ... and no one told you that, instead of focusing on a recovery that works for all Canadians, the Liberals, NDP and Greens would mortgage your financial future to finance a big-spending wish-list, dreamt up behind closed doors.

      My Name, they didn't tell you any of that.

      Did they?

      Let's face it... The Liberals, NDP and Greens never told the truth about their big-spending agenda for a post-COVID Canada.

      And when you cast your ballot, you'll have a chance to let them know what you think about them breaking your trust.

[Page 1 back]

      But, in the meantime, I'm writing because I want to be straight with you about Canada's Recovery Plan.

      You may be familiar with some aspects of Canada's Recovery Plan. I sent you a letter just like this one a few weeks back to tell you about it.

      It's the Conservative Party's detailed plan to put our country on the path to fiscal stability by focusing on the jobs, wages, and Securing the Future for all Canadians. And it's designed to help you right now.

      Of course, you likely have questions about how Canada's Recovery Plan will work - and what it means for you...

      That's why, shortly, I'll share with you the specific details about the plan and about how Conservatives will continue to support those hardest hit by the pandemic while returning to a balanced budget over the long term.

      But first, I think it's important I tell you what I believe this election is all about --- and why I'm so determined to earn your support for Canada's Recovery Plan...

      This election is about the economy. And it all boils down to a single choice that YOU must make. You have only two options:

              1) Make our pandemic-era spending - and all the debt and deficits that                    come with it - permannent.That's what you'll get with the Trudeau                          Liberals, NDP, and Greens who have NO PLAN to control public                          spending and NO PLAN to create new jobs.

                  Or...

              2) A plan to create jobs, Secure the Future, and return to balanced                            budgets with a careful, cautious, long-term approach. That's what                        you'll get with a new Conservative Government, focused on                                  implementing Canada's Recovery Plan.

      My friend, I hope you will agree with me when I say that, at this crucial time, Canada can't afford four more years of a Prime Minister who lacks the sense of responsibility, long-term vision, and economic competence required to steer our recovery.

      And we can't afford to send more NDP and Green MPs - who do whatever Justin Trudeau wants - to Parliament!

[Page 2 front]

      Here's a startling statistic.

      According to Bloomberg News, very soon Justin Trudeau will probably have accumulated more debt than all 22 Prime Ministers who came before him COMBINED.

      If we don't change now, I'm afraid Canada will never recover and, for too many, our dreams of "back to normal" will never be realized. But it gets worse...

      Without a plan to Secure the Future, I'm afraid our children and grandchildren will be members of the first generation in our history to inherit a Canada that's weaker, more unstable, and with less opportunity than the one you grew up in.

That's why I say this election is about the economy,

That's why now, more than ever, I believe Canada needs a new government with a plan to Secure the Future, and

That's why I truly believe our country needs you to support Canada's Recovery Plan in this crucial election.

      Canada's Recovery Plan will:

Recover the 1 million jobs lost during the pandemic in one year by overhauling our tax system, reducing red tape, building infrastructure, helping companies expand exports, encouraging the safe development of our resources, and much more!

Balance the budget over the next decade by growing our tax base through more jobs and higher wages. Canada's Conservatives will carefully and responsibly phase out emergency spending - and we won't cut transfers to the provinces, like the Liberals did the last time they were faced with a large deficit!

In fact, under Canada's Recovery Plan, almost 90% of the federal budget deficit will be erased by repairing the economy.

Create opportunity for all sectors of the economy including in the industries Justin Trudeau left

[Page 2 back]

behind, like energy, forestry, mining, fishing, and manufacturing.

Support small businesses by incentivizing Canadians to invest in new businesses, providing loans to small businesses in the tourism, hospitality, and retail sectors, and making it easier to start a business in Canada.

      My friend, the ideas I've presented you with today are just a small sampling of what's included in Canada's Recovery Plan, which you can find online at wwww.conservative.ca.

      If you agree it's time for a new government that will focus on jobs, wages and helping Canadians right now, then I urge you to vote for Canada's Recovery Plan by casting your ballot for your local Conservative Candidate.

      Thank you. Let's get Canada back on track. Please keep an eye out for my next letter. I'll be getting in touch with you again soon.

                                                                                               Sincerely,

                                                                                           Erin O'Toole

                                                                                             Erin O'Toole,                                                              Leader of Canada's Conservatives &                                                                Author of Canada's Recovery Plan

P.S. This election is about our economy. The Liberals, NDP, and Greens want this election to be about anything else because they have NO PLAN for our recovery and NO PLAN to responsibly reduce public spending after the crisis.

That's why they're using harmful, American-style politics, built around divisive and long-settled social issues to distract from their economic failures. It's a disservice to millions of Canadians who want a fair, open, honest debate about how we're going to rebuild our economy and Secure the Future.

The Liberals, NDP, and Greens may want me to stop talking about the economy, but I refuse. You deserve no less.

If you agree with me when I say the single most important issue in this election is the economy, then I urge you to take a close look at Canada's Recovery Plan.

                Authorized and paid for by Conservative Fund Canada,                 Chief Agent of the Conservative Party of Canada.

[nicetomeetniall]

Shared Clothes and Hurt Feelings

Summary:

Y/N’s friend group shares clothes all the time. When she has an important meeting, she knows just the sweater to wear. She had let a friend borrow it, who may have let Y/N’s ex boyfriend borrow it.

Warnings:

Language.

xoxo

The friend group of Y/N’s basically had a communal closet. Anytime someone needed an item to complete an outfit or something to wear for a date they could find it. There was no downside to it. The mix of luxury and common clothing was perfect for any occasion the friends may find themselves in. It was all great until Y/N needed her sweater back from a friend.

Y/N loaned her favorite sweater out to her friend, Freya, just weeks before she needed it back. She had a meeting at work that would probably set the tone for the rest of her career and she knew that the sweater would show just enough professionalism while allowing her to show some personality. 

On the phone call, Y/N first told Freya the news about the exciting work news before asking about the sweater. 

“I don’t have it. I actually let someone borrow it.” Freya said over the phone. 

“Oh, that’s fine.” Y/N dismissed. “I just need it back before Monday. Can you get it from them?”

“Shit, Y/N. You know I’m leaving town this evening. I don’t think I can.” Freya’s tone let Y/N know the woman on the other side of the call was nervous. “You can’t think of something else to wear?”

Y/N could find something else to wear but she didn’t want to. This was a big moment for her and although it might be silly, she loved that sweater and tried to wear it whenever there was something big happening.

“I really need it.” Y/N said. “You can just give me your friends number or whatever. I’ll get it from them. Who has it?”

There was silence on the line for a few seconds. “Harry has it.”

“My Harry?” Y/N asked, trying not to freak out before she got confirmation.

“Yes.”

Harry. He and Y/N had broken up only seven weeks ago. It was an ugly end to a nearly three year relationship. It was months of unresolved conflict and lack of communication that led to an explosive night. They had been so awful to each other in that two hour period inside their shared apartment that they weren’t sure they could ever look at the other person again. It was such a bad breakup that they both left the apartment and Harry’s sister was the one to pack up their belongings. 

They ran in the same social circle and Harry was the one to borrow and lend clothes the most. Still, that was Y/N’s favorite sweater and everyone knew it. He knew it. There’s no way he didn’t know it as soon as he took it from Freya’s hands when she passed it onto him.

Y/N would just have to choose another outfit. She had the weekend to find something. She could do it. 

Except she couldn’t. She hated herself for leaving half her wardrobe on the floor and breaking a sweat in an attempt to put something together. She’d worn that sweater when she got the job, when she adopted her cat, and when she was feeling the best about herself. She needed the damn sweater. 

Y/N texted Harry. She didn’t want to call him. She had went all these weeks without hearing his voice. It wasn’t easy, but she managed to do it so there was no point in regressing. 

It’s Y/N. Freya told me you have my sweater. I need it. Can we please figure out a way to get it to me? I need it before the weekend is up.

It was simple enough and straight to the point. 

I can bring it to you tonight. Send me your address.

She wished he would have someone drop it off for him, but of course not. That wasn’t Harry. He didn’t run from anything.

After texting him her address she rushed around the apartment. It was all a bit pathetic, really. She straightened the books on her bookshelf and messed with the curtains, making sure they were just right. She didn’t think he’d step foot past her doorway but a part of her wanted him to. 

Y/N missed Harry. He’s a person you only meet once in a lifetime. He’s as good and as genuine as anyone can be. Even though he made mistakes in their relationship, he was adamant on fixing them. Y/N didn’t even let him try so she regretted it. 

The knock on her door came too quickly. She opened it slowly, not sure if she was ready to be face to face with him.

“Hey.” Harry said, giving her a slight smile. “Hello.” She said, looking down at her sweater that he held in both of his hands, as if it was some sort of present. 

Harry pursed his lips to the side, a sign that he was trying to decide what to say. It was all awkward and uncomfortable. 

“I saw it at Freya’s the other day and I just- I don’t know. I’m sorry. I haven’t worn it.” He quickly said, extending his hands for her to take it from him. “It was stupid of me.”

“Well, thank you for returning it.” She took it from him carefully, being sure not to touch his hands. 

“Can I ask what the occasion is?” He asked, moving his eyes from hers to right behind her so he could catch a glimpse of her new apartment.

He never thought they would be in this situation. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were too good for this. 

Y/N saw his eyes travel and opened the door wider. “Yeah, come in.”

Harry was cautious. As much as he wanted to look around and see her space, he was afraid of seeing anything that might upset him. It would kill him to see any sign of another man. He followed her into the living room and sat down on the couch as she tossed her sweater over an armchair. 

“You know how I’ve been with the same company since I graduated. I’ve been working my way up the ladder.” Y/N began to explain as if Harry hadn’t been there every step of the way. He hated feeling like a stranger. 

“I know, Y/N. I was there for several promotions.” He said, watching as she sat on the other end of the couch. 

“Right…” She trailed off, embarrassed. “I just have a meeting about some app that’s being developed. I’m leading the marketing strategy and if it goes well, then I’ll be on the map for who knows what.” 

“I’m sure you’ll do great.” Harry nodded, getting a faint smile from her. 

They said nothing for a few minutes. Harry wasn’t sure if he should leave and Y/N didn’t really want him to.

“Well-” Harry started.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N blurted, immediately fighting the urge to cover her mouth with her hands. 

Harry looked over at her with the most understanding facial expression. He understood her outburst of apology. 

“I just shouldn’t have walked out so quickly. We didn’t give ourselves time.” She explained. 

“It was a long time coming.” Harry said which made her heart drop. “We weren’t the same for months. I was stupid, I wasn’t thinking about you at all.”

She nodded, it was all true. He had been so selfish before they ended. She still couldn’t put all the blame on him, though. She should’ve spoken up about it sooner. 

“I’ve missed you, though.” Y/N said, figuring that any response she might get couldn’t hurt more than anything else she had been feeling because of their separation.

“You don’t have to.” He said, making her raise her eyebrows. “I’ve missed you, too. I know it’s complicated and we have to do better, but I’ll try.” Maybe it was a stupid idea to try again. Maybe they didn’t care about the possibility of pain because any sort of love was worth it.

Masterlist

[kurtblogs]

Kurt's Blog

Hi my name is kurt paul L perez and im 17 years old,When i grow up i would like to be a biologist or a wildlife researcher

I see our community as a cheerful and a hardworking community however their are times we are often ignorant and greedy on our acts.As a student i would raise awareness by spreading the proper knowledge on our current social issues so that people will be woke with the current issues and how we can work together in order to fix it.

Reflection paper.

Significance and scope

1)This issue matters to me kse usto ko lng na talaga umunlad ang philipinas sa hirap at para ren may mga trabaho na ang mga walang trabaho at di na magugutom ang mga tao ulit.

2)The people because we depend on it on our everyday life and this is were we get our expenses.

3)this issue started at the 1990 when we stopped focusing on our agricultural practises.

Connections

1)This issue did not change people are still blind and did not mind the fact that we could become rich and powerful if we would just trust in our own agricultural powers and resources and that we would not need to depend on other countries for their help.

2)If we would not do anything about it the philipines would just depend much more on exported goods rather than making and importing the things we could make and do.

3)This is connected to everything because if we just trusted in our agricultural practises like before our economy would prosper and this could have an huge impact on the philipines just because we are good at farming and making rice.

4)Yes it is cause agricultural before is our source of income and that is the thing that boosted our country before but it changed just because of people now a days are buying exported products.

5)Its a problem cause farmers are now struggling just to make a living everyday because philipinos buy exported rice from other country's rather than on supporting our's.

6)This is a problem if we don't do anything our local farmers would go hungry and would not earn any money.

Reflection

1)I feel sad because our government did not noticed this and did anything because that we could make quality rice more than any country could because that is the best thing we do and that our land is rich with minerals,I just felt really dissapointed also because they could have done something just by selling our own rice to other countries and eating our locally made food.

2)We could have prevented this from happening this from the start if we just trusted and that we should not depend on other countries for their rice and other products.by now if we did not stopped making and selling our own rice the philipines today is very prosperous and that everyone would have a job.

First trime exam

Family disaster vid link.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1RQflysr1ZMIbPKqDbx80fgx0155icAm3shvFeeIaRnw/edit?usp=drivesdk

Second trime SA 1

SS SA#1

So the COVID-19 pandemic previously began at Wuhan at a wet commercial center from defiled

bats or different creatures that are on the lookout and that individuals are beginning to get

tainted individually from the infection until it spread worldwide from transportation, canned

products, conveyances, creatures, and from the ordinary items we contact. In any case, I accept

that this should be a bioweapon that china was trying and was made within a lab in Wuhan

where they made the infection and tried it to individuals on what could the impacts be

nevertheless nobody knows reality with regards to it however we likewise should be cautious on

what we eat to ensure that it is truly consumable and appropriately cleaned before serving or

eating it to keep getting any sort of disorder from it.

The Coronavirus pandemics truly did an enormous effect on us monetarily as well as in any

conceivable manner, our economy truly dropped drastically yet now is gradually turning out to

be ordinary again.this also did a very huge impact on our health because old and young kids

tend to be more susceptible to the virus because of weak or weakened immune systems and

that all of us need to do a mandatory quarantine when we go back to the philippines and a swab

test to see weather they are positive or negative once they got their results if they are negative

they would travel and go to other places if not they are going to be forced for self quarantine.

The safety of the filipinos is in-danger because we tend to not be serious at this pandemic only

from the start and that people now are being not aware that the covid pandemic is still here and

is very active and we tend to not mind it anymore by going outside and not wearing a mask and

going into huge gatherings like going to the mall and party celebrations. Even tho we are

protected by wearing masks and "social distancing" we can't deny the fact that the covid it over

because when you look at how many filipinos are infected it is already at the 300000 plus and

even going up even more slowly but surely if we don't do anything about this in no time we

would reach 1millon people that are infected at the philippines from this virus,to be honest the

government is not doing that much to help stop the covid pandemic.they are not putting more

efforts into our healthcare instead they had the money to improve manila bay instead of

spending it for our healthcare helping people. And funding more hospital beds or places where

people are infected could stay first.the citizens are helping as much by giving relief goods for the

people who could not get out of their places and by donating money to the hospitals to further

improve their healthcare.the ongoing developments on helping the pandemic ease is slow but is

working,by mass testing and giving people loan or money to the people to help finance their

everyday needs,for me all we need to to is full cooperation and trust on the government

hopefully that they would take this pandemic very seriously and help us rise again from the

pandemic and to be covid free for us to have a normal life again.

Editorial cartoon and writing about duterte's Administration.

BRAIN DRAIN.

Every Filipino medical professional knows the statistics. In recent years, this Southeast Asian

nation has ranked number one for exporting nurses and number two for sending doctors

overseas, according to the University of the Philippines in Manila.

Between 2004 and 2010, nearly 72 000 Filipino nurses were newly employed or rehired abroad,

according to data from the Philippine Overseas Employment Administration. The latest specific

numbers date back to 2008, when then-health secretary Francisco Duque estimated that 85% of

Filipino nurses were working in Western countries, while 70% of Filipinos were dying without

medical attention — a death rate not seen since the 1970s.

But Kenneth Ronquillo, director of the Health Human Resource Development Bureau of the

Department of Health, says the much-reported brain drain is, in fact, a myth.

“In terms of absolute doctors and nurses, the Philippines has always had an ample supply,” he

says.

And in the wake of the 2008 global financial crisis, the Philippines may actually be facing the

opposite problem — a surplus — as a result of the fall in overseas demand. In mid-2011, the

Philippine Nurses Association warned that 287 000 nurses in this country of 90 million people

were either unemployed or lacking sufficient hours.

The other key concern has been that, too often, the best-qualified and best-trained doctors and

nurses are the ones who leave. Though overseas demand has, conversely, raised domestic

standards, says Ronquillo.

“The international community preference for our experienced nurses has led to higher

expenditures for training and development of fresh, local graduates,” he says, adding that

Western countries typically require two to three years prior experience.

The real problem in the Philippines, says Ronquillo, is that money is not being spent to make

sure that medical human resources are spread equitably across this archipelago nation; remote

areas are not only lacking doctors and nurses, but also hospitals and clinics.

So first of all i just wanted to point out that the main reason for this is low salary and on how

much we don't look at the naturally talented ones with the proper education because on how

some families don't have the sufficient money to help their sons to go onto proper education and

that itself is just wasted potential and that only the smart and talented doctors are almost all

overseas because of the high pay and lots of benefits for me its a waste cause we need them

here more. However due to the low pay and less benefits they rather work abroad and that the

cause of these is the government they don't give them a rise when they are the one of the most

important people we need for me lastly is that i hope that the government would do something

abt this cause for me this is just a huge waste on professional doctors because it would really

help us even now, because of the pandemic,

Sources:pssc.org.ph › Papers › Brain ...PDF

Brain Drain in the Philippines* Fact and Figures on the Drain - Philippine Social Science Council

CONTRACTUALIZATION

There are many companies in the Philippines who have resorted to hiring people on a

contractual basis even if they are working on regular, ongoing tasks like normal employees

would in a company. As a result, these non-regular employees are deprived of the opportunity to

get secure, long-term employment. In most cases, they also do not receive the employee

benefits due them.

What is “endo?”

Endo is a colloquial term coined from shortening the phrase, “end-of-contract.” Here in our

country, employers are required to regularize employees after six (6) months of working for the

company, so some companies try to game the system by means of only hiring workers for a

maximum of five (5) months. The governing law regarding this matter is detailed under Article

281 of the Labor Code of the Philippines, which reads:

Probationary employment shall not exceed six (6) months from the date the employment.In most cases, they also do not receive the employee

benefits due them.

What is “endo?”

Endo is a colloquial term coined from shortening the phrase, “end-of-contract.” Here in our

country, employers are required to regularize employees after six (6) months of working for the

company, so some companies try to game the system by means of only hiring workers for a

maximum of five (5) months. The governing law regarding this matter is detailed under Article

281 of the Labor Code of the Philippines.

8)Second trime exam

) The issue is about ladies segregation and sexual orientation separation that they generally

consider ladies or and others in unexpected sex in comparison to they couldn't dominate same

as men do and that ladies or others of another sex consistently have been peered down

grinding away and are constantly tormented and annoyed. It's not generally men who are

predominant they generally imagine that they are prevalent than ladies since they think they are

more grounded and we ladies are powerless, well truth be told we are altogether equivalent.

With regards to the work environment, there is a much more grounded sense among the public

that the battleground is lopsided, still a disparity in compensation for people during a similar

occupation which is a demonstration of sex separation in the work environment. Sex

segregation is characterized as bias or separation dependent on a person's sexual orientation.

Sexual orientation balance is achieved when people can get to and appreciate equivalent. With

regards to the work environment, there is a much more grounded sense among the public that

the battleground is lopsided, still a disparity in compensation for people during a similar

occupation which is a demonstration of sex separation in the work environment. Sex

segregation is characterized as bias or separation dependent on a person's sexual orientation.

Sexual orientation balance is achieved when people can get to and appreciate equivalent prizes

and openings independent of their sex. Different nations have gained generous ground

concerning sex balance in ongoing periods. On the other hand, ladies actually persevere

through less compensation.

2) The difficulty that has caused this is that men's voice consistently pondered giving ladies the

simpler activities at work since they figure ladies couldn't find men doing the things they

accomplish in their work. Also, that the impact is that men regularly consider fewer ladies in light

of this that on the off chance that they are given a similar undertaking as to the men they

couldn't do it or do it as same as them. Large numbers of the state laws presently set up are

comparative in nature to government social liberties laws yet may offer extra assurance against

work related separation. Practically all states have received segregation laws identified with

work, with security against separation dependent on different elements, for example, race,

sexual orientation, age, conjugal status, public beginning, religion, or handicap.

The parts of government that are resolving this issue is the branch of equity that expresses

that any sort of separation or harassment of various sexes isn't permitted and you could be

placed into prison for segregating anybody regardless of the sex nor race of the person in

question is in no means are in effect yet appeared or improvement however for me I would

solve is to treat everybody the same and to never peer down on their gender, race nor

monetarily and that they base them on their skills, hard work and outlook on their work as

opposed to being one-sided based by the sex.

Research output about political dynasty

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1C1tVLv3jJ6znLxdPTqnJdGigmP5fSNsRFbFwLFx8Ebs/edit?usp=sharing

Article bill of rights.

On automatic review is a decision of the Regional Trial Court (RTC) of Bogo, Cebu, Branch 61,

finding appellant Dindo "Bebot" Mojello guilty beyond reasonable doubt of the crime of rape with

homicide defined and penalized under Article 335 of the Revised Penal Code, as amended by

Republic Act No. 7659, and sentencing him to the supreme penalty of death.1

Appellant Dindo Mojello, alias "Bebot" was charged with the crime of rape with homicide in an

Information dated May 22, 1997, as follows That on the 15th day of December 1996, at about

11:00 o'clock in the evening, at Sitio Kota, Barangay Talisay, Municipality of Santa Fe, Province

of Cebu, Philippines and within the jurisdiction of this Honorable Court, the above-named

accused, moved by lewd design and by means of force, violence and intimidation, did then and

there willfully, unlawfully and feloniously succeed in having carnal knowledge with Lenlen Rayco

under twelve (12) years of age and with mental deficiency, against her will and consent, and by

reason and/or on the occasion thereof, purposely to conceal the most brutal act and in

pursuance of his criminal design, the above-named accused, did then and there willfully,

unlawfully and feloniously with intent to kill, treacherously and employing personal violence,

attack, assault and kill the victim Lenlen Rayco, thereby inflicting upon the victim wounds on the

different parts of her body which caused her death.On January 21, 1999, the trial court rendered

judgment finding appellant

guilty beyond reasonable doubt of the crime of rape with homicide, and sentencing him tosuffer

the death penalty. From the facts found by the court a quo, it appears that on December 15,

1996, at or around 9:00 p.m., Rogelio Rayco was having some drinks with agroup which

included Roger Capacito and his wife and the spouses Borah and Arsolin Illustrismo at the

Capacito residence located at Barangay Talisay, Sta. Fe, Cebu. Rogelio Rayco left the group to

go home about an hour later. On his way home, he saw his niece, Lenlen Rayco, with appellant

Dindo Mojello, a nephew of Roger Capacito, walking together some thirty meters away towards

the direction of Sitio Kota. Since he was used to seeing them together on other occasions, he

did not find anything strange about this. He proceeded to his house. On December 16, 1996,

between 5:00 to 6:00 a.m., the Rayco family was informed that the body of Lenlen was found at

the seashore of Sitio Kota. Rogelio Rayco immediately proceeded to the site and saw the

lifeless, naked and bruised body of his niece. Rogelio was devastated by what he saw. A

remorse of conscience enveloped him for his failure to protect his niece. He even attempted to

take his own life several days after the incident. Appellant was arrested at Bantayan while

attempting to board a motor launch bound for Cadiz City. On an investigation conducted by

SPO2 Wilfredo Giducos, he admitted that he was the perpetrator of the dastardly deed.

Appellant was assisted by Atty. Isaias Giduquio during his custodial interrogation. His

confession was witnessed by Barangay Captains Wilfredo Batobalanos and Manolo Landao.

Batobalanos testified that after it was executed,

Newsletter.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1o1WYl_P1h4yEfohWuAqLrU-M_fTtD5m8rjE5svY14JY/edit?usp=sharing

Final exam.

Definition of extrajudicial killing is when a government official is involved in an incident when they kill a person without sanction of any legal process.The usual targets are: political,trade union,dissident,religious.The well known example is a grade 11 Senior high school named Kian Loyd Delos Santos.

He was killed in Caloocan City.And the police claim that Delos Santos was involved in a drug operation in the place,and then they said that the victim was a drug runner and fired at him with a .45 caliber pistol during the incident.But the eyewitness said that they saw the policeman dragged Delos Santos in the dark alley,and shot him three times,leaving his body in a pen for pigs.Both PAO and NBI filed murder charges to those officers involved in the Delos Santos incident.Two days later a similar case also in Caloocan city also there was a teenager named Arnaiz 18 year old,and a former student in the University of the Philippines.Police claimed that the victim was robbing a taxi driver,and automatically shot him.According to Dr Edwin Erfe,chief of the Public Attorney’s Office forensic laboratory services,found in their autopsy that Arnaiz has deep abrasion and marks of showing he was handcuffed,dragged and severely beaten.De Guzman,Arnaiz’s last known companion,was found in a creek in Gapan Nueva Ecija province on September five.It was quite unclear how De Guzman Really died.After the forensics examination it showed that De Guzman has been stabbed 26 times, the knife pierce to his lungs and heart.According to Justice Secretary Vitaliano Aguirre III,that some wounds Deguzman gain ,and indicated that the killers continue stabbing the victim even he already died.According to Philippine Drug Enforcement Agency,4,948 suspected drug users and dealers died during police operations from July 1,2016 to September 30,2018.They do not include the others who was killed by “unidentified gunman”.Philippine National Police claim 22,980 deaths since “war on drugs”.And began to be classified as “homicides under investigation”.his law has to stop,because it doesn't give a chance to the drug pushers and dealers to have a second chance to restart all over again ,and to those who were brutally murdered the innocent should be removed from their duty to set an example to not make the same mistake twice.

Speech link.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1mRL773R5FDE-zqVzDfUPve9YuIg_vssj/view?usp=drivesdk

[rkin413]

Miracle Thieves 1

(this has nothing to do with my halloween drabbles, i just have no self-control. and apparently i can prose like Rose freaking Lalonde holy-) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If one were to be honest then, for Marinette, everything started back when she was five years old. A simple dare from a new friend, one Le Chien Kim, was what may have planted the seeds, or perhaps just watered some that were already there.

The exact wording of the dare would be lost to time, but the end result was Marinette stealing the oversized hat off of another boy who would quickly round out the trio of small children, Nino Lahiffe.

It didn’t take long for the three to start stealing things from each other discreetly, or as discreetly as a five year old possibly could, as a sort of game. Of course, their parents were nowhere near as enthused about the game as the children were. It didn’t matter that the friends were only stealing from each other, or that it was a game that all three children had agreed to partake in, it was stealing, and what kind of parents allowed their children to steal from others? So, the game ended for good.

Or not.

While all three children agreed to stop their game (with much pouting), it wasn’t long before Marinette started to get an itch to continue. An urge that made her fingers twitch and her young mind race to create plans to swipe a certain hat again, or a spoon off of Kim’s plate. Being the good child she was, she told her parents about her urges. They frowned, told her she was a good girl for ignoring the urges, and to keep on ignoring them, emphasizing that stealing was wrong.

This did nothing to actually help the urges go away, and as Marinette put more effort in consciously ignoring the urges over the years, she often found herself pocketing things without even realizing she’d done so. Many times she discovered buttons, or loose change or at one time even a whole book many hours after she stole them. Of course, she felt terrible and guilty, stealing was wrong. And if she was stealing things, that made her a bad person, even if she honestly hadn’t meant to steal anything or even remembered stealing at all.

Fearing her parents judgement, of having her belief that she was a bad person confirmed by those she loved more than anything, she instead turned to the two she loved almost as much- her childhood friends. Neither Nino nor Kim understood why she had those urges either, but one of them, no one was sure who, decided to restart their childhood game. It would stay between the three of them, of course, and Marinette soon discovered that it was enough to satisfy her urge to steal. She always gave the items back, and she no longer unconsciously stole anything.

For a while.

By the time the trio had entered collège, Marinette had come to include a couple of other children in the game. Not out of malice, but a desire to include potential friends into her play, share a secret. Reactions were… mixed. Although she always gave everything back - and she was very careful to do so, always checking her bag and pockets before leaving school - many of the children she stole from still got understandably upset, and more than one told a teacher.

Marinette’s parents were called in. The looks of disappointment they gave her were crushing. Perhaps if the word kleptomania meant anything to them other than a desire to steal things, things would have turned out differently. Alas.

Still, not every classmate she had started to avoid her. Even some of the children she’d stolen from welcomed her into the group, sometimes even at the cost of a friend or two. While most children would clutch their things and shy away or slap her hands away even when she had a perfectly innocent reason to have them out, other children like the perpetually optimistic Rose, the quiet but observant Juleka, or the friendly if cautious Mylene still welcomed Marinette as a friend. Nino and Kim didn’t abandon her, either, and through the latter Marinette met Max, who eyed her a few times but never shied away or hit her. When she returned his pencil case a week after they’d met, guilty and sure she’d ruined her budding friendship with him and his already existent one with Kim, he instead nodded and thanked her for giving it back. She’d nearly cried.

However, while Marinette made friends with those who didn’t hate her for her urges, that by no means meant that every peer who chose to interact with her did so with kindness. Chloe Bourgeois was the bane of Marinette’s existence, frequently mocking Marinette for all manner or things, implying that her thieving was done because she was poor -she wasn’t, though her family was nowhere near as rich as Chloe’s-, any time anything went missing for any period of time Chloe would instantly blame Marinette, and one time she even poured juice on Marinette’s shirt on purpose and claimed it was fine because she’d steal a new one before the day was over.

Furious at the destruction of a tie-dye shirt she’d help make herself, Marinette snapped and took up Chloe’s unwitting challenge. Nino later claimed he’d given his shirt to Marinette himself, not wanting her to get in trouble again.

In the end, all Chloe had done was up the stakes on Marinette’s game, though now it was more of a hobby. Shoes vanished off people’s feet, all manner of jewelry was suddenly no longer being worn but in their owners’ pockets, shirts were swapped out of nowhere, and one time Max and Nino had gotten fairly bad headaches before realizing they were wearing each other’s glasses.

Marinette was careful not to do that again.

The teachers she had almost all looked at her with scorn for her habits. While her peers would hit her hands if they saw them out and not glued to her person, her teachers would have her turn out her pockets if they couldn’t see them. Many times they’d have her do so after each class as well. Had it not been for her friends, school would have been torture for the girl.

Then she met Ms. Bustier.

Ms. Bustier was seemingly sent from Heaven itself. She never side-eyed Marinette, or treated her like a willing criminal, and only ever asked her - asked! - if she’d stolen something if something had actually gone missing. When she found out about the ‘game’ between Marinette and her friends -which now included one Ivan Bruel, one Alix Kubdel, and one Nathaniel Kurtzburg, the latter two having joined the game by teaming up to steal from Marinette - she was delighted at the fact that Marinette had an ‘outlet’ for her urges, instead of punishing the children. She’d even possibly given permission for Marinette to steal things off of her desk, although Marinette wasn’t sure of that and did everything in her power to avoid doing so.

All of that, however, was merely sowing the seeds of what was to come.

One day, near the end of the school year, there was a call for Marinette to go to the principal’s office. Chloe, naturally, made a snide remark about Marinette’s ‘hobby’, asking what she’d stolen this time, which Marinette forced herself to try and ignore. When she arrived, tears pricking in her eyes as Chloe’s words rang around inside her head - she hadn’t managed to ignore her after all - she found she wasn’t in trouble at all. She did, however, still start crying.

Marinette didn’t show up the next day. Or the day after. The day after that, though, she did return, even more subdued and withdrawn than usual. It was Sabrina, Chloe’s new ‘friend’ and the daughter of a police officer, who asked what she was doing out of jail. Marinette, stressed and on edge, burst into tears, and Chloe and Sabrina hastily backed away as several of her friends rushed to her side. From there, everyone found out what had happened.

An accident in the bakery had landed her father a spot in the hospital. Possibly for good.

Chloe had, naturally, been unsympathetic. Annoyed at not being the center of attention after a few minutes, she insisted in shoving her new, solid gold bracelet in everyone’s faces. Well, almost everyone’s. When she’d started reaching towards Marinette her hand suddenly snapped back, before she gave a mocking quip about how Marinette would probably just steal it to pay for her dad’s hospital stay.

Unbeknownst to Chloe, Marinette, who was at least partially convinced of her own terribleness for her constant thievery, had actually considered stealing for a similar reason for the first time yesterday. The accident in the bakery had not only put her father in the hospital, but had put the bakery itself in danger as well. Marinette had physically helped with the bakery, but that didn’t solve the money crisis that had sprung up in the wake of the accident and while Marinette would happily have given her parents a loan if they’d let her, her last commission had resulted in her getting ripped off, with no money coming to her at all. The only thing that had stopped her from stealing something from someone intentionally was the crushing uncertainty of whether or not any potential targets were in a similar boat. She didn’t, couldn’t know everyone’s story. Someone who seemed to be doing great financially might actually be in the same boat, just hiding it better.

Chloe, however…

It was a fight with her conscience and all the repeated lectures of how stealing was wrong against her desperation and belief that she was already just a dirty thief anyway the entire day. In the end, her desperation won.

Chloe, upon realizing her bracelet was missing, naturally threw a fit and blamed Marinette. Marinette didn’t trust her conscience to let her lie when Ms. Bustier asked her if she stole the bracelet, but before the teacher even had a chance Chloe threatened to call her father if Marinette didn’t empty her pockets and bag and everything else right then and there. Full of dread Marinette did as she was asked, and found the bracelet missing. Chloe continued to pitch a fit, but more and more of Marinette’s belongings were searched and it wasn’t found.

Marinette was on the edge of being unable to breathe when she saw the reflection of gold back in her bag. Confused and still panicking, she found the bracelet back in her bag, with a note attached. The note had said that the writer knew Marinette wouldn’t usually steal for real, but desperate times called for desperate measures and if there actually was anyone in class who deserved to be stolen from, it was Chloe.

Theft had never been a huge thing for Nino, and Chloe was a terrible person anyway. People’s morality can be incredibly black and white at times.

Though she felt guilty at having turned Nino into and accomplice for her theft, even if she hadn’t known he was for hours, she was grateful as well. With any luck the money from pawning the bracelet would help the bakery and her budding business both get back on their feet. Internally, Marinette vowed never to do anything like this again.

But the promises she made solely to herself had always been the hardest to keep. Time and time again, Marinette felt the urge to steal and while her ‘thefts’ at school helped, she started to crave more of a challenge. There were times when she’d look at Chloe’s extravagant hotel with it’s rich patrons, or find herself looking at the richer neighborhoods nearby online, and fantasize and plan.

She was just a dirty thief, anyway. It was only a matter of time before she acted on her urges, went through with one of her plans. She was just a greedy, awful thief.

The first time she went out in disguise, she vowed never to do so again as she slipped the stolen jewels into the police station to be returned.

The second time, she didn’t bother making any such false promises.

The third time, she actually had some fun.

The tenth time, she gained a pair of magical earrings and a partner.

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[bytheangell]

All You Have to Do Is Stay

(Read on AO3) Square Filled: Wing Fic for @shadowhunterbingo Pairing: Jace Herondale/Simon Lewis Rating: Teen and Up  – Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Summary: As Simon prepares to go out for Halloween, fangs and all, Jace considers a 'mark' of his own he's been hiding and wonders if it's time to show Simon... -------------

Jace doesn’t know if getting the night off on Halloween is a blessing or a curse. With demonic activity at a surprising low for this time of year, Isabelle decides to not run a full staff, which means Jace is free for the holiday for the first time in… well, maybe ever. Rebecca is flying in to visit Simon for Halloween, their yearly tradition; it’s also the first time she’s been back to New York since he and Simon started dating a few months ago. Against all of his better judgment, Jace agrees to go out with them for the night.

“You look ridiculous,” Jace says, eyeing Simon up and down. Simon looks like he was plucked directly out of a children’s cartoon, with his hair slicked back, wearing an all-black suit Raphael loaned him under a black cape with a bright red inner lining. “You’re literally a vampire, Simon. You do know no one dresses like that, right? I mean, I know I don’t spend a lot of time at the Dumort these days, but…”

“Of course I do,” Simon cuts him off. “But it has to be cheesy for no one to question it. If it’s exaggerated then it’s obviously a costume and no one thinks twice.”

Simon smiles, and that’s when Jace sees his fangs are out. His actual fangs, and not some piece of store-bought costume. And damn if that isn’t doing something to him just then. Even around the other Shadowhunters Simon usually keeps his fangs hidden. It’s strange to see him walking around with them so… casually.

Jace catches himself staring and tears his eyes away from the pointed canines.

“And you’re just going to walk around like that? In public?” Jace asks, ignoring the slight hitch in his breath.

Simon shrugs. “Sure. It’s Halloween. All of the mundanes just assume everything is a costume. The warlocks all go out without glamouring their marks, everyone will just think Seelies are some elaborate elf costume… the werewolves are kinda screwed, even the most detailed furry costume doesn’t look like an actual wolf. But yeah. It’s actually kind of cool.”

Jace almost asks what a ‘furry’ is and decides that he’s fine not knowing just then, especially not when a much larger and more consuming thought has now taken over his entire brain: letting his ‘mark’ show.

Two spots on his back itch in anticipation at the mere thought, muscles begging him to be released. No one knows about his ‘gift’ outside of the Lightwoods, and that’s only because while he was still growing they were still growing, and he couldn’t keep them glamoured and hidden for too long without ending up in horrible amounts of pain.

“Jace? Earth to Jace?” Simon’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “You alright? You zoned out, like, a lot just then.”

Jace doesn’t have an immediate reply. He wants to tell Simon, he really does. He wants to let Simon in, to let Simon know all of him. And it isn’t that he doesn’t trust Simon to keep his secret...

...it’s that he doesn’t think he’ll stay after he knows.

A lot of thoughts cross through Jace’s mind just then. He runs through a million and one scenarios in the blink of an eye, and 99% of them end with Simon very politely ending things because he didn’t sign up for this. It’s weird, even by Shadow World standards. Even by Simon standards. Alec and Izzy were always kind about it, but Maryse and Robert always stressed how important it is that no one ever finds out, that they’re something to be ashamed of, something to hide.

He also thinks of meeting Rebecca in an hour or two. Meeting Simon’s family, allowing them to get invested in him too, the same way Simon has. Maybe it’s best to get this done and over with now, like ripping off a bandaid.

“Okay, now you’re starting to worry me,” Simon says, frowning and taking a step closer, reaching an arm out towards Jace. Jace takes an instinctive step backward, defensive before he even started speaking, and that’s when he knows that he’s already made up his mind without realizing it.

“Simon, there’s something I have to tell you. Or, well, show you I guess,” Jace speaks finally. He watches Simon’s face closely, the small, cautious smile as Simon nods.

“Yeah, sure. What is it?” Simon is definitely worried, and Jace hates that he’s the reason for that concern.

“So, you know how Clary and I were, uh, experimented on as kids?” It’s rhetorical, they both know that Simon knows, but Jace waits anyway to buy himself a few more seconds to collect his thoughts. This isn’t how he imagined doing this, and he thought about it a lot the longer the two of them were together, but he usually pictured some quiet, intimate moment, and not while Simon was dressed up as Dracula.

“Yes,” Simon says, his tone soft and encouraging.

“Right. Well, I didn’t just get the ability to activate my runes without a stele,” he admits. “The angel blood in me, it… I also got, uh…” he stalls again, the words fading away. It isn’t too late to make up a lie, or say ‘nevermind’ and save this for another day. Maybe he can buy himself a few more weeks, hell, maybe a few more months, with Simon before he brings it up and sends him running.

“Hey,” Simon says, filling the silence Jace falls into. “Whatever it is, you know you can tell me. It’s alright.”

Jace wants to believe him, but he can’t undo two decades of being told it isn’t alright. So instead he takes a deep breath and steels himself for the inevitable.

“I have wings.”

He’s never said it out loud to anyone before. He couldn’t even say it to Maryse and Robert, it just sort of happened, and they were the ones to tell Alec and Isabelle. Jace always just referred to them as, well, them. I have to let them out again, he’d say, and Alec would know he needed help with the matted areas that inevitably formed from hiding them for too long.

A heavy silence falls between them when Simon doesn’t respond right away. Jace is bracing himself for a gentle let down. Maybe that Simon is going to go out with Becky alone, and come back and let him down easy so it doesn’t ruin his night. Or maybe Simon will be so mad that Jace kept this from him that he’ll just yell at him and kick him out here and now.

Simon doesn’t look upset, but he doesn’t look particularly happy, either. He’s studying Jace carefully, eyes narrowed a little.

“You have wings,” Simon repeats finally.

“Yeah,” Jace breathes out the word, on pins and needles in anticipation.

“Okay.”

“...okay?” Jace has no idea what the fuck to do with that.

Simon frowns. “I mean I’ve never… how do you have wings and I’ve never seen them, or felt them? I’ve definitely seen you naked before. Plenty of times, and-” Simon stops abruptly. “The scars. The two on your back. Are they-”

“Yeah,” Jace confirms, self-consciously shifting so that his back is facing away from Simon, the scars under his shirt included.

“I never thought to ask about them, I just assumed it was, you know, normal Shadowhunter injury stuff. Werewolf scratch or something.” Simon pauses, and Jace can feel his eyes on him even as Jace very intentionally avoids eye contact.

“I wish,” Jace mutters. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Simon is being way too calm about all of this, and he doesn’t like it. When Jace doesn’t say anything else and neither does Simon the silence between them is almost too much. Jace can feel Simon’s eyes on him and can only think the worst: that Simon’s trying to find some polite way to say that it’s too weird, or too much, or that he lied about it for too long to be trusted. In fact, Jace is about to give him the easy out and beat him to it when Simon speaks again.

“Can I see them?” Simon asks quietly.

“What?” This isn’t what Jace expects to hear. In fact, he’s certain he must be hearing things.

“I mean if it’s too… personal, or whatever, that’s fine. I don’t want to overstep. But I’d love to see them, if you’ll let me,” Simon repeats.

Jace looks around Simon’s apartment as if half-expecting a small crowd to suddenly appear to watch as well. But it’s just them, and the curtains are drawn, and Rebecca hasn’t texted to say she’s anywhere close yet.

“I don’t know,” Jace stalls.

“Hey, that’s fine. I mean, I can’t imagine having wings and not wanting to show them off all the time, but if you ever do the offer is there.” Simon steps closer, taking Jace’s hand in his own and giving it a comforting squeeze.

And that’s when it hits Jace: Simon isn’t shying away. He isn’t running. In fact, he’s explicitly saying he’ll still be here whenever Jace changes his mind.

That’s the push he needs to take a deep breath and make that leap.

“Wait,” Jace says as Simon turns to head back towards his bedroom. Simon stops and turns, and as he does so Jace slowly takes off his shirt. Then he very slowly and carefully begins to spread his wings.

It’s been a while. He can feel the aches, moving in small, shifting increments instead of some quick, grand, dramatic gesture. The feathers are mostly golden - a soft, shining hue closest to his skin and along the tops of each wing, fading to a pure white at the tips. They match his eyes, which also shine with a shade of gold that almost glows under the light. Jace wonders how long it’s been since he brushed them out - a quick glance at them doesn’t seem to show any glaring issues and he’s silently praying they aren’t matted in places he can’t see as Simon watches with wide eyes.

There’s no fanfare, Jace doesn’t do a spin to show them off and has no snarky comment. He simply stands, his biggest secret on full display, feeling more exposed than he ever has before.

Simon continues to stare as Jace bites down on his lower lip. He knew this was a bad idea.

“Wow,” Simon finally breathes out. “That’s… they’re... wow.”

“They’re something alright,” Jace agrees, and allows himself a shaky, self-conscious laugh.

“They’re beautiful.”

Simon takes a step or two closer and Jace can feel his brain working overtime to process what Simon just said. Simon isn’t leaving. He isn’t even shocked into place. He’s coming closer. He’s smiling.

He likes them.

“They’re ridiculous,” Jace mumbles finally, still not making eye contact with Simon.

“They’re spectacular,” Simon corrects. “Can I-?” Simon starts to extend a hand slowly out towards Jace’s left wing and he’s helpless to do anything other than nod.

Simon moves carefully, each motion deliberate until his hand grazes the golden plumage. His touch is soft, first just brushing across the tops of them before growing a bit bolder and combing his fingers through the feathers. Jace gasps, feathers shaking from the involuntary shudder Simon’s touch causes, and Simon pulls his hand back quickly.

“Fuck, sorry, I hurt you?” Simon asks, concerned.

“No,” Jace says quickly, shaking his head. “No, it’s just - I haven’t had them out in a while. It feels good, I promise.” And it feels extra good because it’s Simon touching them. Sure, when Alec or Izzy would comb through his feathers it felt nice, like someone running fingers through your hair, but this was different. This was something more.

Simon looks hesitant but nods and moves close again, crowding into Jace’s space to run his fingers through the feathers again before making his way around to Jace’s back. Jace feels the gentle touch of fingertips at the spots on his back where the wings emerge from. He knows exactly what Simon’s looking at from numerous hours spent staring in contempt at them in the bathroom mirror - red, inflamed skin, freshly torn open in a clean line, something that looks like it should be bleeding but isn’t. Simon’s fingers vanish, and a second later his lips take their place, leaving a trail of quick, tender kisses up the length of the laceration.

Jace doesn’t try to stop the tears that spring to his eyes, he knows he couldn’t even if he wanted to.

Simon circles back around to face him again. “Thank you for showing me.”

Jace nods, not trusting himself to speak.

Thankfully he doesn’t have to. Simon’s phone rings and he takes it out of his pocket to silence it but stops when he sees his sister’s name on the screen. Even still, he looks up at Jace questioningly.

“Answer your sister,” Jace encourages while clearing his throat, taking the minute or two Simon spends on the phone to collect himself again. When Simon hangs up his eyes are back on Jace immediately.

“So, this is terrible timing since she’s going to be here in, like, 5 minutes. But I want to talk more about this later if you’re up for it,” Simon tells him.

“I- yeah, I’d like that,” Jace admits. He’s wanted to talk to Simon about this for ages, honestly.

“I mean, I could make her wait for me at Taki’s or something if you wanted to talk now-”

“Simon, it’s fine. We can talk tomorrow. Tonight is all about Rebecca.” Normally this isn’t the sort of thing Jace would ever imagine himself leaving unresolved, but Simon doesn’t look like he’s about to turn and run overnight. In fact, Jace is convinced that if this hasn’t scared him away there might not be anything that will, and that’s a thought that both excites and terrifies him. He’s always relied on his ability to push people away when he needed to, there’s always been some stop he could pull to make people leave when he felt overwhelmed, or when things got too serious.

But with Simon? Jace is finally starting to realize that Simon might just be here to stay. Maybe nothing can scare him away, but Jace realizes with a sudden certainty that he doesn’t want to push Simon away.

“I don’t suppose you want to take them out for a Halloween test-run?” Simon offers, but Jace is already folding the wings back into place, tight and hidden and secret again.

“Maybe next year,” Jace compromises. Showing Simon is one thing - showing the entire world, well, that’s a step he isn’t ready for just yet, even if they’d all think it’s just some elaborate costume.

“Good,” Simon says, surprising Jace. “Because I kind of like the idea of me being the only one who gets to see them.” Simon closes the space between them, careful to place his hands by the base of Jace’s spine on his back as he wraps his arms around him and pulls him in for a kiss.

“Still up for coming out?” Simon asks when they finally pull away.

Jace knows he can say no and Simon would be totally fine with it. He can distance himself and overthink and self-sabotage everything that just happened in true Jonathan Herondale fashion…. but he doesn’t even consider it.

Because for the first time he can remember Jace doesn’t feel like he needs an escape plan.

“Absolutely,” Jace agrees without any hesitation. “Let’s go.”

[cowtale-utau]

Can I call it CowTale? Please?

So names are still not all settled. But, I thought if I started fleshing out everyone’s roles, and a little bit of personality, maybe that’d help. So here’s what I’ve got so far. Undertale Sans - Ace. The skelle in charge, a job he isn’t always fond of, but handles well enough. He makes the final decision on when they move and where they go. He has the last word in inter-camp conflicts. Occasionally he’ll disappear for a day or two, needing to get away from the responsibility he’s been saddled with. His return is always just as quiet and unacknowledged. He never wanted this but hes doing his best to handle not only the surface but also keeping track of all his and his brothers alternates. He tries his best to settle things peacefully, but isn’t afraid to use force if needed.  Undertale Papyrus - Lief. Charming and friendly, hes the one who secures their place in any given location. They try to stay settled as long as they can in one camp, and he’s very good at becoming a quickly beloved member of the nearest town. Getting an in with all the locals, and making them less likely to flip should the law come looking. In camp he helps keep the peace between the various conflicting personalities. Rival gangs and law enforcement tend to underestimate him because of his kind nature, this allows him to play “hostage” until the perfect moment arrives and he is more than willing and able to strike, and he always hits exactly as hard as he means to. Underfell Sans - Chisel. At first glance, he’s just muscle. An enforcer of sorts. He can come off brutish and careless, but like his counterparts is actually highly intelligent. He keeps everything with moving parts working properly. From wagons to weapons. Everyone handles their own basic gun maintenance, but any alterations or customization is usually run by him. He’s unafraid to get his hands dirty, by any definition, and so takes on a lot of the work the others might balk at. A social creature at heart, he can often be found in saloons, bars, and inns, and while he might seem to be a drunken layabout, its rare anyone moves through their area that he doesn’t know about. You hear a lot when people think you aren’t listening.  Underfell Papyrus - Spur. Cut throat and ruthless. Or at least, its how he often presents himself. Being around him often feels like being around a sleeping mountain lion. Elegant and dangerous. He can be quite charismatic, and falling into the role of “the gentleman” is easy for him. He draws people in with an easy confidence but it always feels like you’re taking a risk. One wrong move, one poorly chosen word, and its over. He’s damn quick in combat, choosing not to draw things out. Hit them fast, and hit them hard. Put the enemy down as quickly as possible, not out of any dislike of combat, but rather a learned caution.  Underswap Sans - Scout. His name really only partially covers his role. He’s fairly small, and physically and mentally quick. Sneaky and perceptive he can suss out exits/entrances/who’s where when, without ever being noticed. He also makes an excellent “scout” out of the wilds as well. Much like Lief, hes sociable and easy to like, but also quite a bit more manipulative. He resents being considered childish or cute, but knows how to play a role to get what he wants. Many assume because of his smaller stature he’s a stealth combatant, or stay out of fights altogether but Scout is a powerhouse front-liner, never afraid to dive right into the fray. Underswap Papyrus - Piper. You would think with how much he despises liars that he himself wouldn’t be one. You’d be wrong. A smooth talker, this skelle can spin a story like no other. There’s a good reason for any and everything, and hes quick to provide one. His lackadaisical nature makes him easy to underestimate, but he’s got a quick hand a quicker mind. If there’s a chance for the gang to talk their way out of an altercation he’s the one handling the talking. Has a side gig as a writer for several publications. He does mostly fiction, all written under a pseudonym. There’s a “monster only” publication that hes done a good bit of writing for as well, guides and warnings to help others navigate the surface.   Swapfell(Red) Sans - Whip. A master manipulator with a strong understanding of the law. He knows the laws, down to finest detail, not that it usually means much. But on the gang ends up dealing with the courts, and not outright corruption, he’s the one to get them out of it. He can twist anything too his favor, and isn’t afraid to play dirty. He’ll gas-light, triangulate, and manipulate to get his way. While he knows when to take it seriously, he has been known to “play” a bit when fighting. Taunts and tricks are his bread and butter. He’s extremely confident, and has the skills to back it up. Swapfell(Red) Papyrus - Coyote. A hunter by nature and training. He can find damn near any one and anything. Whether this is fresh meat for the camps dinner, or a person of interest needing brought in, or even something someone lost, he’s got it handled. When not working he prefers to stay close to camp or in the wilds. Crowds make him uncomfortable when he doesn’t have his mind set to “work mode”. As a combatant he prefers to stay at the fringe, picking off anyone who thinks they can slip away. Horrortale Sans - Tender/Ten. Minds the camp and animals. Horses, any livestock they may have, even a bit of gardening if they settle for that long. He gathers wild plants as well, though he tries not to wander too far if they're fairly new to an area. His memory isn’t the best these days, but Cook helps him keep track of what still needs done each day. He struggles to sleep at night so usually takes at least a partial watch role, stalking the edges of camp to keep himself alert. Tries to stay out of combat as much as possible, as it is very much a trigger for him, and the only one guaranteed to be safe if he frenzies is his Papyrus. Horrortale Papyrus - Cook. Rarely leaves camp. His appearance is... Jarring to most, and he hates making people uncomfortable. His social nature has been tempered by his past, so he tends to be more cautious than his “classic” counterpart. He does however still enjoy a more quiet social interaction, a light conversation while doing the washing or gentle chatter while he cooks. He handles most of the cooking for the camp. A few of the others enjoy jumping in when they get a chance, but are often busy with other their tasks, leaving the bulk of the work to him. It took him awhile but he’s gotten comfortable with handling meat again, so long as he butchers it himself. There’s a sense of discomfort that lurks in the back of his mind, but he can push through it so long as he has certainty exactly what meat it is and where it came from.

Swapfell(Purple) Sans - Doc. An absolute control freak. Took a bit for him to accept that, no, hes not the head honcho here. Once he settled though he found himself easily sliding into something of almost administrative role. He keeps track of the camps supplies, who has what, who needs what, what needs doing. While he may not make the orders, he sees to it that they get done. He’s also the primary healer of the gang, although most try to avoid needing it as his rants are near legendary. Swapfell(Purple) Papyrus - Flint. Finds most of the jobs for the gang. He always keeps a metaphorical eye and ear out for ways to make more money. Is also a cutthroat loan shark. Knows how to navigate the underbelly of society and a master of playing people against each other. While he’s certainly more than competent in a fight, don’t be surprised if he didn’t poison everyone at the poker game before hand to get that leg up. His movements are always economical and every attack carefully calculated to do the most damage with the least effort. Fellswap Gold Sans - Haze. Is rarely seen with the gang. He handles the gentry side of things. Playing politics and working to keep the authorities off the gangs back. Politics and diplomacy are his bread and butter, though it tends to be a darker kind of diplomatic. Threats and blackmail are common, but often unable to be traced back to him. He’s highly intelligent and manipulative, he has something on everyone and knows exactly what to say when. Its often hard to read the true intent of his words on the first pass. Because most people are clueless as to who’s really pulling the strings, he is well loved in high society and moves in important circles. Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Cirrus. Mostly kept out of things. His brother is more than a little overprotective, and prefers to keep him out the fray. He doesn’t mind this much, as he has severe anxiety and is highly introverted. This does mean, however that it is very rare he is recognized. He fades into the background easily making him excellent at stealth work. This often used by him acting as something of a “runner” between his brother and the rest of the gang. He’s also unmatched as a sniper, but it is extremely rare he is ever called on for it, as it is heavily emotionally taxing for him. Underlust Sans - Mab Underlust Papyrus - Calico These two almost always work as a pair. Often posing as prostitutes, they can run several cons this way. Get ‘em drunk and rob ‘em blind is pretty common. They also work well as the “designated distraction”, and its a job they greatly enjoy. They’re both a quick hand with knives and tend to prefer ambush combat.

This got... long. Any thoughts or opinions are welcome. Obviously there’s still a few that need a bit of work. I really hadn’t originally wanted a cast this large but I’m a sucker for Skelles. Its my own fault. A few got names from their roles, but there’s still several I need to work on.

[theshinsun]

A-Z for honesty hour because I'm an asshole. :D

A - If I’m in love.

...yes. I never thought I would be again, I thought I’d been too hurt and jaded to feel this way again, but against all odds, I’m back to being 17 in full force.

B - Who the last person I talked to on the phone was.

The only one who ever calls me is my mother. And customers at work.

C - How long it’s been since I’ve kissed.

damn, almost a year now… not since my last relationship ended back in October-ish. even then, it was mostly casual pecks idk if we ever seriously made out tbh.

D - If I have a preference for boys or girls.

already answered (twice) but I'll keep going… I've got a definite preference of guys over girls, but I'm also a bi disaster and sometimes it doesn't make a lot of sense why this person is instantly attractive to me while that person isn't. certain aspects of femininity do appeal to me, but weirdly other aspects seem to be a turn-off and I can't always put my finger on what or why. ...that caveat does not apply to masculinity though, even if it's traditionally "masculine" features on a feminine-presenting individual I am 100% down every time.

E - How many holes I have in my ears.

two and a half? I got a third piercing at some point halfway up the lobe but it got infected and scarred over I think. the holes I do have are also stretched (I'm up to 0G now) and I've been meaning to get some more.

F - Give me any options, like ‘hot or cold?’

wasn't given any options, so I guess I'll go with hot or cold lol. I prefer hot, I'm one of those weirdos who loves summer because of the heat and I'll usually take a hot food/drink over a cold one.

G - The last person I said ‘I love you’ to.

my mom, over the phone just now.

H - The last person I hugged.

my roommate. we're not always super touchy-feely with each other but I've been feeling kind of down and she noticed.

I - The last time I felt jealous, and why.

I'm not usually a very jealous person, but the last time I really felt that way… I'd recently broken up with my ex, and they were sitting on someone else's lap and I… felt things. part of the reason I realized I may have made a mistake.

J - Are you insecure. What about?

K - What my full name is

already answered, my first and middle are Jacob Brooks, I'm not putting my last name out there sorry I don't trust like that.

L - If I have siblings.

already answered, I've got two, an older brother and a younger sister.

M - If I forgive betrayal.

I mean, I forgive but I don't forget, ya know? like I'll accept an apology if it's sincere and welcome the person back and never bring it up again, but I'm probably gonna be cautious around them in the future, and not trust them as readily as I would have before.  

N - If you want to know how I treat my friends.

if I call someone my friend it means I really feel close with them, and I treat my friends basically like my family. I try to always be honest and supportive of them, bc I love and appreciate them and just want them to be happy. 

O - If I like my school.

I love my school. the campus is beautiful, the teachers are fantastic, and I just love being there and learning and growing in my classes. I'm really sad this semester is probably going to be mostly online because I really feel like I belong in those studios and on that campus and I miss it.

P - What kind of music I like.

already answered, and it mostly boiled down to all over the fuckin place, so this time… band recommendations, here we go. no you have no say in this.

here, have a clump of random favorite bands off the top of my head: mother mother, bad suns, nothing but thieves, hozier, shearwater, the neighbourhood, steam powered giraffe, rainbow kitten surprise, the oh hellos, gregory alan isakov, caravan palace, mystery skulls, khai dreams, autoheart, muse, silversun pickups, thousand foot krutch, two door cinema club, twenty one pilots, blue october, jukebox the ghost

Q - What the last party I went to was, and when the next will be.

I'm not a partier at All, but I did have a bunch of friends over for the 4th (okay I say a bunch but it was like four people from our usual less-socially distant circle). I have no idea when the next get-together will be, it's kinda hard to plan those kinds of things lately.

R - For me to tell 10 of my curiosities.

the phrasing of this question is weird but I'm gonna assume it means things I'm curious about? let's go with that.

travel. I haven't ever been out of the country and I'd like to see other parts of the world at least at some point in my life.

tattoos. both getting them and learning to do them, it's a niche branch of art that I'm just fascinated by and I might like to do it as a career if I knew more about it.

same thing with being a florist. I'm really drawn to it as a concept and I'm super curious how it works, but I have no idea what kind of… qualifications and whatnot I'd need for that.

 surfing. I'm surrounded by the lifestyle and now kind of own a surfboard, I just want to know what the appeal is.

this may be a bit tmi, but I'm really curious what it's like to have a dick. I don't suppose I'll strictly ever know, but I still really want to… probably one of the biggest things to clue me in that I'm definitely trans is the literal penis envy ngl. 

I've always kind of had a fascination with the ocean, and I'd love to go like, scuba diving or something someday, to see it up close and personal.

I think everyone has the impulse thought of shaving their head at some point. maybe someday I will I don't quite have the balls to do it now.

I've gone this long in my life and never wielded a sword? a travesty. I don't pretend to have the grace to actually know how to use one, but I've like, never even held a real one and the idea interests me a lot.

this one might be slightly morbid curiosity, but I don't think I've ever been like, properly drunk or high before, like I've been tipsy but I've never been wasted, you know? the idea kind of scares me and I don't think I'm going to go out and remedy it, but it's still there, and even if I know it's not a good idea, I do still wonder what that's like.

same vein, maybe even a little darker, but I've got at least a little morbid curiosity about like, death and real danger. again, not planning to act on it At All, but the thought is still lurking in the back of my mind like what if…? you asked for honesty.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

S - 2 habits.

bit of a new habit, but I have a whole ritual of disinfecting groceries when I bring them home, and then disinfecting the door knobs and counters. I don't know if it'll persist after the pandemic is over, but it's already ingrained in me and I don't feel comfortable if I skip it or do  it differently.

I apologize for things that aren't my fault. it's such an instinct at this point to say "sorry" when I'm uncomfortable or anxious that it doesn't even register anymore, even when people tell me not to be sorry, I'm still gonna say it, sorry.

T - 5 things I love unconditionally.

already answered so here's 5 more

my family. if I haven't got my family I haven't got anything, we've got each others' backs and I won't turn on them for anything

my friends. same deal, I owe so much to my friends, I love them, and that won't change no matter what they decide to do or be.

sleep. I love sleep so much, even if it's just an involuntary nap, though for someone who loves it so much I sure don't get enough of it

spotify. I know it has problems, I know there are probably more streamlined/cheaper music streaming services out there, but at this point, I've sunk too much of my time and energy into this one and I'll never give it up

my ocs. I don't talk about them very much on this platform, but I have them, they're my children, and I love them even if they're assholes and never easy to write/draw. 

U - How many texts I send daily.

already answered, the number varies, and sometimes swings drastically between like, 5 and 35 on any given day.

V - 3 big dreams.

graduate art school. it's gonna be a serious undertaking and probably take several more years and a lot of loans at this point, but I'm still determined to get there someday.

someday I want to write a book. I know I've said that before on a different prompt, but it wouldn't be a list of dreams without including this one that I've held onto since childhood. 

this one's kind of vague, but someday… I want to not be afraid anymore. like I want to finally be in a state of mental/financial security so I can live my life without the fear of what's coming next. 

W - An idol.

it's probably really basic to list a youtuber, but I've still gotta go with Chase Ross. the guy was an inspiration and a major source of information and support for me early-on in my transition, and even watching him now I still want to approach life with the pure positive energy and confidence that he has. 

X - If I’ve done something I regret very much.

yes. a couple things, really… some of which I don't think I'll ever be able to make up for.

Y - If I like my town and why.

my current town? yeah, it's got its problems but it's also beautiful and full of life and art and unique energy and I miss the days before the Corona End Times when I could actually go out and enjoy it.

Z - Ask any question you want.

??? I did not receive any specification for this one, and given that I didn't skip even the duplicate answers and this is ridiculously long, this one I'm gonna SKIP.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans + Horror Movies = Nightmare fuel for psychic aliens.

Recently been on a binge of watching how alien species would react to humanity finally getting into the galactic scale of things and decided to write a short story of what happens when a psychic species attempts to mess around with a human who loves horror movies.  The Confederation of Basalva was the largest political body in the universe, spanning nearly some 500 different species, 4,000 planets, and numerous other asteroids belts, moons, and gas fields across the cosmos for the last five millennia. It's authority was regarded no less than that of an actual god. A fact that the Flinchestet had been counting on for their end game. The Flinchestet were among some of the newest members to the confederation, but despite this they had already carved out a significant power base within the confederation. Tall slender figures with pale white skin and limbs as thin as bamboo stalks, they moved gracefully and appeared almost angelic. They towered over many of the other species but given their appearance came off as frail and harmless, which was exactly what they wanted. Their real power didn't come from a large army or superior economy, nor did it come from any physical traits or great deeds they had performed in the past, no. Their power was in their well hidden psychic abilities which allowed them to subtly influence other species to do their bidding. During the mass gathering of the entire Confederation on the planet Omnicron, the seat of the governments power, they would gently probe the minds of other species and being altering their mindset so that they believed their peoples best interest lay in whatever the Flinchestet wanted. Through these tactics they had quietly altered several dozen counselors from different planets to voting with them and now were growing to a steady 1/3 majority of the entire confederation with their end goal to usurp the entire body to their will. They had played the long game to avoid the risk of discovery, but even those that did suspect them of their fowl play dared not risk raising the issue for fear of being set upon by the Flinchestet. So when humanity finally was allowed to join the ranks of the confederation no one dared warn them of the danger they now put themselves in. Despite mastering space travel and carving out a semi pocket empire of their own, humanity had been denied entry into the Confederation of Basalva for several decades. It wasn't until after humanity helped in defeating the Morimani invasion that their skills were recognized and they were granted a seat. Some felt it a fitting reward for their sacrifice, while more felt it was wise to keep such a trained warlike species close by to help whenever conflict arose. For the Flinchestet, they saw an easy target to increase their power base once again with little effort, judging that human minds were simplistic and malleable. So as the shuttle carrying the first ambassadors of humanity landed on Omnicron they were greeted by the several other ambassadors, foremost among them the female Flinchestet ambassador Raksula. Humphrie stepped down the staircase from the shuttle on to the red carpet followed shortly by his aides, advisers, and co ambassador Morgan. At the end of the carpet stood a group of aliens of whom he could guess were other representatives. He damn near tried to go over the briefing about the other ambassadors, but he was having trouble pronouncing their names let alone matching them to faces yet. At the front of the group stood a tall slender figure in robes that both spoke of modesty and yet still carried an air of superiority. "Watch out," Morgan whispered in his ear, "they might be playing "Rush the freshman"." Humphrie couldn't help but chuckle before coughing to cover it up. "Now's not the time to be making jokes you old sage." "True, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't be cautious. Would you have expected such a welcome wagon?" Morgan said as his gaze stretched across the crowd of figures. "Yes, it does seem a bit much for a welcome party. Best to get on with it though instead of standing here in plane sight whispering to each other like we're already plotting on who to kill." Humphrie moved forward down the carpet and finally reach the robed figure in the front and bowed. He pulled out a translator unit and attached it to his throat. "I am the ambassador of earth, it is an honor to meet you all." The robed figure matched the bow before reaching out with a hand. "I am ambassador Raksula and the honor is ours to meet such a fierce species who came to us in our time of need." Humphrie took the hand and shook it, though Morgan couldn't help but notice a momentary freeze on Humphire 's part after touching Raskula. Raskula put her hand behind Humphrie and motioned to the other ambassadors present before introducing them. Morgan had hoped that the games wouldn't start right off the bat, but it was clear that they would need to be on their toes at such a brazen power move so early. By having Raskula introduce the others instead of letting them introduce themselves, she was making it clear who was in charge. Despite now being on the galactic stage, it seemed that the same tricks were used even now. Morgan made a mental note to do research on Raskula hoping to find out if she was playing a game or just being nice. As the group of ambassadors moved away with Humphrie and Raskula in the front, Morgan new only time would tell him his answer. ----------------- In any event it took nearly three months before Morgan was sure there was something wrong. At the first few sessions whenever Humphrie  put forward a motion Raskula and her followers would second it and then vote in its favor. This went on steadily for the first two weeks before things changed and Raskula began making motions and Humphrie  would second them despite in most cases being counter productive to not just humanity but other species as well. Morgan cornered Humphrie in his office by the fifth month after having seen Humphrie  just vote in favor of the impartial servitude clause. "Are you mad Humphrie?" Morgan near shouted at him as he sat behind his desk. "You've just seconded a motion for a slavery bill! Do you have any idea the shitstorm you just walked into?!?" Humphrie  put his hand on his chin while nodding, his eyes appearing as if he was watching something far off in the distance. "It's not a slavery bill, it's a bill to make those who default on payments to the Flinchestet repay them with servitude until the debt is paid." "My god man, you really have lost it!" Morgan swept his arm across the desk sending papers and awards flying into the wall. "Flinchestet loans are stacked with such high interest that unless you pay it back in one payment you are stuck with an ever increasing debt for the rest of your life! Then there's the clause that states that all offspring shall have the debt transferred to them in the event of the original recipient dying before the debt is paid off." "The Flinchestet have been good to us." Humphrie said as if he was reading a line from a script. "We must honor their support by supporting them."   Mogan's hand struck Humphrie's face so hard that he flew from his chair and struck the ground. Morgan was about to unleash another string of blows and insults for his friends stupidity when he took a closer look at Humphrie and stopped. He expected some sort of rebuttal or at least a fist fight to break out after taking the blow, but Humphrie was just laying on his hands and knees staring around blankly like he just fell out of bed. "Where am I?" he murmured, his hand pinching the brow of his nose and blinking rapidly. Morgan walked around the desk to Humphrie and crouched down in front of him. "Wha do you mean where are you, you're in your office you idiot. So get up I'm not done thrashing you out!" Humphrie looked up at Morgan as if he was seeing him for the first time after years apart. "Morgan?" Humphrie's voice soft and questioning as if he wasn't sure of himself. "What are we doing here? Weren't we just on the shuttle pad?" "I see I hit you so hard I sent you back in time." Morgan remarked as he hauled Humphrie to his feet. "That was near five months ago." "Really? That long?" Humphrie was gazing around the room now and Morgan knew something was wrong. "You better not be fraking with me now Humphrie, this isn't some joke right?" "I swear it isn't." Humphrie felt like his legs were turning to jelly all of a sudden and he sat back down in his chair. "What's the last thing you remember?" Humphrie's mouth opened and closed several times, his expression as if he was desperately searching his own memory for an answer. "I remember stepping off the shuttle with you and then walking down the carpet." "Anything else?" Humphrie closed his eyes tight and spoke "Then I bowed to Raskula and shook her hand. Then..then.." "What?" Morgan was convinced now something was off. He could tell Humphrie was showing signs of memory loss but the timing made no sense. "After I shook her hand a door opened up." "A door you say?" "Yes, but to the strangest room I'd ever been to." Morgan sat down opposite him. "How so?" "There was art on the walls, but it wasn't like pictures. It was like I was looking at moments from my past. And Raskula was there too." "What did she do?" Morgan had a good picture now of what had happened but needed final confirmation. "She was talking to me, pointing out instances of my past that were bad and how they could make them better." "Well frak man, sounds like you got brainwashed." Morgan said calmly. Humphrie just stared at the ceiling for a long time. "There was a time when I'd say that was horse shite, but we traveled half way across the cosmos." He sighed loudly before turning his gaze to Morgan, his eyes suddenly looking like he hadn't slept for weeks. "What should I do?" Morgan sat in silence for a long time before standing up, walking to the other side of the desk and placing his hand on Humphrie's shoulders. "Don't you worry my friend, I've got this. Just stay in your office and I'll take care of this." ------------ The main chamber was the size of a football stadium and was packed with ambassadors. Raskula was sitting in the corner surrounded by her faction members. Her satisfaction at the coming events was well hidden, but soon there would no longer be a need to hide behind masks. The bill she had put forward would ensure the servitude of all species that failed to pay back loans of the Flinchestet. The vote had been close even with nearly 1/3 of the body was firmly under her control and would vote however she wanted. What had really swung the vote for her was snagging the human ambassador. His species reputation had earned them some credit  and other species respected them enough to vote however the human voted. Their minds were far easier to manipulate that she had imagined and now with this vote the Flinchestet would be one step closer to securing total domination of the cosmos. As the final representatives began shuffling in Raskula peered over to where the human would be and rose in surprise. Ambassador Humphrie was no were to be seen and in his place was another human. Morgan, Raskula recalled, that was his name. She could barely remember his name, though she hadn't cared to fully learn after snaring the ambassador. The gong of summons was sounded and the magistrate took the stand. "The representatives are gathered and this session is now called to order to vote upon the bill put forward by ambassador  Raskula." This was bad, though Raskula. Without the human vote the measure would fail and failure was not acceptable. "A point of order my dear magistrate." Raskula spoke as she stood. "It seems we are still missing ambassador Humphrie. With such an important measure I would ask that we wait until he arrives." The magistrate turned from his high podium to gaze upon Morgan. Upon meeting the gaze Morgan bowed. "I beg your pardon magistrate and fellow ambassadors. Ambassador Humphrie has fallen ill and will not be able to be here at this time." "I do hope ambassador Humphrie is not in serious danger." Raskula said realizing she'll need her fallback plan. "I move we postpone the vote on the Flinchestet servitude bill until ambassador Humphrie recovers and can return considering he was a co-sponsor of the bill." Those ambassadors that hung on her every words all nodded their head and she felt assured she had avoided disaster. "You make a fair point ambassador." the magistrate said before turning back to Morgan. "Do you accept this proposal?" Morgan smiled and put his hand up in the air. "That is very kind of you to suggest, but ambassador Humphrie felt this vote was of such importance that I be given representation in his stead which is allowed by the Confederations regulations as I am the second ambassador of humanity." The magistrate nodded and turned back to Raskula. "The human is correct, he has the right as the second ambassador to cast a vote in the event of the first ambassador being unavailable." "Those fraking idiots!" Raskula screamed in her head. She had no sway over this second ambassador and she could not risk a vote of this importance being left to chance. If she could just touch him she could imprint enough subliminal messages to ensure he'd vote however she wanted, though he may turn brain dead afterwards. "Very well then magistrate." Raskula said, a final idea coming to her. "Though I have only briefly met ambassador Morgan I that I should welcome him in his species customary greeting to celebrate his first official vote in this hollowed hall." Thankfully that customary greeting was a "handshake" as they called it which gave her the best chance to subvert him and secure her victory. "That is most kind of you ambassador. I would gladly shake the hand of such an esteemed member of this government." Morgan said as he smiled. Raskula rose from her seat and quickly went to Morgan's place, extending her hand as she got close. Morgan stuck out his hand and grasped her hand and the world went dark.... Raskula had done this countless times and this would be no different, or so she thought. Morgan's expression never changed from a harmless smile but his grip tightened around Raskula's to the point of pain. Hardly any of the other ambassadors were paying attention to the interaction until Raskula started screaming. No one in the Confederation had ever seen a Flinchestet in pain or heard them cry out in pain, many assumed they had no concept of pain. That was quickly dispelled as Raskula let out a ear screeching scream. Morgan still stood motionless and smiling as Raskula collapsed to her knees and began desperately trying to free her grasp from Morgan's hand. The screaming continued for several more moments before to everyone's horror red gashes began forming slowly across Raskula's body. Like someone was slowly taking their time to cut into the alien flesh with a scalpel. Green blood began dripping from the wounds as more and more gashes began appearing across her body and her struggles began becoming more feral. In roughly a minute after Morgan had grasped Raskula's hand she collapsed to the ground bleeding from a dozen wounds that had appeared out of thin air. "Someone help!" Morgan shouted, quickly going to his knees to cradle Raskula. "The ambassador is hurt! Please, someone call a doctor!" Raskula stared in horror at Morgan before the room slowly turned black and she faded out of existence. --------------------- Raskula slowly stirred from her sleep. She felt weak, frail. Her limbs would barely respond when she tried to move them and with far greater effort then she thought she needed she opened her eyes. She was laying in a bed of some sort, wires stuck in her running to nearby machines which she could only assume were some sort of medical device. It didn't take long to put two and two together to figure out she was in a hospital, but how had she got here? "I'm glad to see you're finally awake." A voice came from the beside her. She slowly turned her head and saw Morgan sitting in a chair next to her bedside. Upon seeing him a cascade of horror and nightmares came flooding back to her and she felt an unworldly sense of dread and despair. She opened her mouth to scream but Morgan shushed her and put a hand over her mouth. "I don't think we need a repeat of what happened in the assembly room, do we?" His smile never left his face which made her sense of anguish even worse. "Nod your head if you agree, then be quiet and listen." The pain she felt was still as fresh as when she first shook his hand and she had no desire to repeat that. She nodded her head and Morgan removed his hand. "Good. Now you're probably wondering what the hell happened to you aren't you?" Morgan sat down and continued without even bothering to wait for her response. "You see, I found out what you did to Humphrie and let me tell you I was very upset. So I did some more research on your species and a better picture began to form about your powers." "You have the ability to invade peoples minds and begin making suggestions to them that will eventually take root and alter their character for good." Morgan chuckled as he continued. "That's a very, very impressive power you have; but it also gives you away for it's greatest weakness." Morgan leaned forward so Raskula could get a clear view of his eyes. "You have to go inside someone else's mind for it to work. So with that knowledge, I made sure to watch a few dozen of the most gruesome, bloody, sadistic, depraved, and horrifying horror movies I could find and watched them for days until they were all I could think about every waking moment." Raskula was on the verge of throwing up as she remembered what she went through when she invaded his mind. Instead of seeing past memories of Morgan's life she saw an empty room with a strange table in the center of the room. The door she had entered had slammed behind her trapping her in his mind, something she had never experienced before. The next thing she knew she was strapped down to a table unable to move as a hooded figure leaned over and began cutting her, over and over. After what felt like an eternity the rooms floor fell away and she felt like she was falling helplessly until splashing into a body of water. She barely had the strength to reach the surface to gasp for air when she saw she was in the ocean with a small island close by. She felt something behind her and she turned to see a massive shadow swimming beneath the water heading towards her. She began swimming to the island hoping that she could make it to shore and be safe. She turned around again to see if the monster was still there and all she saw was row upon row of sharp teeth clenching down on her limbs. She felt intense pain as it pulled, tugged, and ripped at her flesh and drew her down into the dark depths of the ocean. As it got deep enough she found herself once again falling back into the ocean repeating the whole situation again. Each time she scrambled for the shore, hoping each time it would be different, and each time failing and feeling herself being ripped to shreds. After that different scenarios played out one after the other, each more painful than the last until she felt what bits of her sanity crumbling. Raskula began violently coughing as she remembered every second while Morgan watched in silence.  "You....are....a..monster." Raskula coughed between gasps. Morgan laughed at that which only seemed to disturb her even more. "Yeah, I'll let you in on a secret of mine. I actually love horror movies, they're a hobby of mine to track them down and watch them. I've got a small library of horror movies that I take with me for relaxation." Raskula couldn't fully comprehend that magnitude of the monster she now faced. "This has been fun and all but it's time to get to the point." Morgan leaned closer while still smiling. "You might think I felt any of what you experienced, but I've seen it so many times I've turned numb to it. I didn't feel anything, not even a prick. So here's the deal. If you ever, EVER, use those powers of yours again like you have been I promise you I will make your existence nothing but pain and misery the likes of which you've never seen." Raskula felt some sickening feeling that he had been holding back on his worst thoughts and she tried to get as far away from Morgan as she could. He leaned over and gently placed his hand on hers and she instantly began panicking. "My species ran out of things on our planet that gave us real fear a long time ago, so we decided to invent things that scared us instead; and if we can do that to ourselves for the sheer thrill of feeling fear again, you can only imagine what we can do when we wish to inspire fear in others for a real purpose." --------- No one was sure what exactly happened during the events of the main chamber meeting, but in the following weeks the Flinchestet faction began falling apart. They simply just began agreeing with whatever the humans put forward and kept to themselves. Oddly enough, they have also begun refusing to shake hands with any human regardless of the situation. Ambassador Raskula was recalled from her position after she severed her own hands using medical equipment and was swiftly returned to the Flinchestet homeworld.  

[nicolewrites]

We Stand, Fate-Tested - V

Alright, folks, I'm going to make this clear: the second half of this chapter discusses miscarriage. There are some descriptions of one as it occurs, including a brief description of blood. Please take care if this is something that could be triggering or sensitive for you.

Rating: T+ Genre: Mystery, Friendship, Romance Characters: [Byleth/My Unit, Dimitri B.], [Byleth/My Unit, Claude R.] Words: 6,206

Almyra is more enlightening than she imagined it would be. / Politics are painful, but her personal life is almost worse.

AO3 | FFN

V - How Everything Breaks

Garreg Mach University - 19 Ethereal Moon, 732 AU

“Are you really going to stay in town over the break?” Flayn’s wide green eyes were charming and innocent and they made Byleth feel slightly guilty.

“I hadn’t planned on going anywhere and I thought that maybe I could do more work if there were fewer people around,” Byleth explained. She took another sip of her tea and almost winced at the disappointment on Flayn’s face.

“And you won’t come with us to the coast?” Flayn asked again.

Byleth shook her head. “No, I take up enough of your father’s time. I don’t need to tag along with you guys on this trip. I know what it means to you to be able to get to visit your mother. I don’t want to intrude.”

Flayn frowned and nibbled at the tart on her plate. “It’s not intruding if we invite you,” she tried.

Byleth sighed. “I’ll be fine, Flayn. I did this last year too. It’s alright.”

“What’s alright?” Seteth asked as he approached the table, holding his own cup of coffee. He looked between Flayn and Byleth and seemed to read the conversation fairly well. “Is this about the break still?”

“I’m going to try to get ahead on work. I’ve still got paperwork to process before the dig starts anyways,” Byleth excused.

Seteth shook his head. “Byleth, I finished that last week. And the break is for taking time off, so even if you won’t come with us, you must promise you won’t spend the whole time working. Do you have a friend you could visit?”

Byleth briefly considered the option, thinking of Leonie, a girl who had studied martial arts under her father who Byleth had been friends with for a few years during her undergrad. Leonie was in her fourth year of study now and had extended an invitation for Byleth to spend the holidays with her the previous year and would likely do so again if Byleth reached out. Still, she didn’t want to burden Leonie. She knew how hard the girl worked to balance school and a part-time job to pay off her loans.

“I’ll be fine, Seteth,” she said instead.

He frowns, looking much like Flayn had. “You say that and I still worry. What about near Shambhala? Is there anyone you worked with over there who you might want to visit?”

Byleth paused before she could shoot him down. While she wasn’t particularly keen on caving to Seteth and Flayn, there was somewhere she was interested in going for both personal and academic reasons. The brochure had been taunting her for almost two weeks and it had taken her until two days ago to look through it fully and find that Claude had tucked his phone number in the back of it in the event she did decide to visit Almyra.

“What if I went on a trip for research purposes?” she asked. “Is that better?”

“For research?” Seteth inquired. As personally invested as he was, there was just no turning off his genuine curiosity.

Byleth dug into her bag for the brochure and placed it on the coffee table. Flayn picked it up and studied it curiously before she passed it to her father and gave Byleth a surprised look.

“Almyra?” she wondered.

Byleth shrugged. “It’s an itch I want to scratch. I’m running into all the same walls as other people. Maybe something could strike while I’m there.”

Seteth hummed in agreement. “It’s an idea for sure. I’m interested to know what you think about these too,” he added, tapping one of the small, fuzzy pictures on the inside of the brochure.

Byleth bit her lip. He was referring to the same tapestries that Claude had alluded to the first time they had met. Seteth was correct, too, because Byleth had wanted to see the tapestries since she first heard about them. In photos, she could only see so much, but she was hoping that if she could see them face-to-face she could put aside any lingering nerves about why everyone she knew kept saying she looked like the Guardian of Order.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Seteth said after a pause.

Byleth felt a small smile curve up her lips and she drummed her fingers over the brochure on the tabletop. “Okay,” she agreed. She lifted the edge of the paper and spied the scrawled phone number written on the inside page. “I guess I have a call to make then.”

- ~ -

Jodat International Airport, Almyra - 21 Ethereal Moon, 732 AU

As soon as she grabbed her luggage off the carousel, Byleth called Claude. She tucked her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she lugged her suitcase and purse towards the exit doors. She nearly dropped her phone and swore loudly and was greeted by a loud laugh in response.

“You always curse like that in the heat?” Claude’s teasing voice said through the phone.

Byleth huffed as she managed to situate her stuff so she could keep a grasp on her phone. “Shut it, Claude. Where do I go once I leave the main exit?”

“Head straight for like a minute until you see passenger pick-up. You’ll see me.”

Byleth exited the airport into the bustling pick-up zone. A gust of warm air fluffed her hair and Byleth stifled a groan at the radiating heat. It was the Ethereal Moon and it was still as warm as it was in the summer at Garreg Mach here. She didn’t want to imagine what it would be like during Blue Sea Moon or Verdant Rain Moon.

True to his word, Byleth spotted Claude almost immediately as she walked out. He was leaning against a fancy silver car, grinning at her over a pair of sunglasses as she approached. He pushed off the car and opened the trunk for her as she arrived at his side.

“You know, Teach, when you said you’d consider it, I didn’t think you’d actually be coming here.”

Byleth shrugged. “I wanted to get away,” she offered as an excuse.

Claude quirked an eyebrow. “Sure,” he replied nonchalantly.

Byleth dumped her suitcase in the trunk of the car and quickly lifted her hair into a makeshift ponytail. Claude watched her with a smile and waited for her to get more comfortable before he walked around to the driver’s side of the car. It felt a bit weird to see him outside of the university setting, especially since he was dressed in stylish white pants and a long-sleeved black shirt. There was no way that he wasn’t burning hot, but he didn’t seem phased at all.

Byleth got in the passenger side and was almost immediately taken aback at how nice the car was. She glanced from the leather dashboard cover to the fancy console to Claude and gave him a skeptical look.

“This is snazzy,” she commented dryly.

He laughed. “Child of a diplomat, remember?”

Byleth immediately rolled her window down and looked out curiously. She had never been to Almyra before and the bustling airport in the capital had a very different feel from the big airports in Fódlan.

Before she or Claude could say anything else, there was a high-pitched female shriek from nearby. “Khalid!”

Byleth blinked in surprise as she watched a trio of girls across four lanes of pick-up traffic wave frantically and try to fight their way towards the car. She looked at Claude.

“Friends of yours?”

“Nope,” he replied evenly and started the car. He pulled smoothly away from the curb before the girls could get close to their car. “If you put the window up, the AC will feel better,” he suggested as if nothing had happened.

Obliging, Byleth rolled up the window but kept a cautious gaze on her host. “Who’s Khalid?” she asked Claude.

“No idea,” he said in the same casual tone of voice.

Byleth noted that his hands were tight on the steering wheel and he kept his sunglasses on, covering his eyes. He was hiding something. “Claude,” she pressed, “who’s Khalid?”

“Some celebrity I’m sure. She must have mistaken me for someone else. Maybe she mistook you for someone,” he suggested.

Byleth crossed her arms. “Aren’t I owed a bit of honesty if I came all this way?”

Claude sighed heavily. “Look, I’ll explain everything soon, okay? None of it will make sense right now, so just pick a radio station, okay?” He gestured to the console in the front of the car.

Byleth fiddled with the dial until the speakers in the car crackled to life. A smooth, upbeat song filtered through and she recognized it. It was a pop song from Fódlan that was playing all over the radio stations back home too. Not trusting herself not to turn directly to some random Almyran news channel, she left it.

“Thanks for picking me up,” she said to Claude.

He grinned again. “Hey, I’m honestly glad to be out of the house for a bit. Besides, I don’t often get visitors out here so I’m happy to be your guide for a few days.”

Byleth dug for the gallery brochure in her purse. “And what makes you so sure that you can even get me into the gallery?”

Claude smirked. “Don’t you trust me, Teach?”

Byleth glanced out the window to look at the city as they drove by. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” she admitted. Claude drove past the highway exit for the main downtown and she looked back at him. “Where are we headed anyway?”

“You’re not going to freak out, are you?”

“Do I need to be freaking out?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged. “Debatedly,” he said cryptically as he changed lanes into an exit lane.

“Which part of Jodat do you live in?” Byleth asked instead.

“Do you know much about the city?” he asked, contemplating his answer.

“No,” Byleth admitted. “This is my first time in the capital here. I’ve been through the Locket a few times, but I’ve never been this far east.”

Claude laughed. “Oh, you’re in for a treat then.”

They drove in relative silence after that with the only interruption being the pleasant music of the radio. Byleth studied the architecture of the buildings around her. It was very different from Derdriu or Fhirdiad, the two biggest cities in Fódlan. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, but the AC of the car was refreshing and made it so that Byleth wasn’t uncomfortable in the heat.

After Claude exited the highway, he drove down two or three major streets before getting onto what looked like a private road that led away from the downtown core of Jodat. The area got sparser and sparser until it was like they were driving through private property. She turned back to Claude to ask him about it when she spotted a massive palace ahead of her. Her lips parted in surprise and her question died on her lips as Claude continued towards the palace.

At a gate on the edge of the grounds, security flagged them to a stop and Claude rolled down the driver’s side and passenger windows. A security guard stepped up on either side of the car and they both looked in through the windows, assessing Claude and Byleth.

Claude said something to them in Almyran that Byleth didn’t understand and the guard on the driver’s side pulled away from the car. She watched as he gave a stiff, upper-body bow and Claude just nodded in reply. The guard signalled the security booth and the gate in front of them swung open, leaving them to drive closer to the palace.

“What is going on? Claude, where are we?” Byleth demanded as Claude drove leisurely towards the towering building.

He said something in Almyran to her, smirking and Byleth scowled. When he noted her displeasure, he sighed. “Look, whatever happens next, just promise me you’ll let me explain before you freak out.”

Byleth didn’t get a chance to respond before they had reached the front of the palace. Claude parked the car and immediately got out, leaving Byleth to scramble out after him. He was already pulling her suitcase out of the trunk by the time she shut the door behind her. Byleth craned her neck and looked up at the gorgeous palace before them.

The heavy doors in front of them swung open and a man and a woman ran out, wearing similar uniforms. The man said something to Claude in Almyran and held out his hand for the car keys. Claude dropped them with a sigh and turned to the woman and spoke a few words quickly. The woman clicked her tongue against her teeth and frowned, but turned and walked back into the building.

“Right!” Claude said quickly. He whipped off his sunglasses and tucked them in the front of his shirt. His green eyes were sparkling as he waved his hand towards the palace. “Let’s go inside.”

Byleth felt rooted to the spot. “Claude, what is going on?” she demanded again. “You told me you lived near the Embassy in Jodat.” She gestured to the palace. “This looks like a royal palace,” she trailed off as she said it.

Byleth looked from the fancy building to Claude and then back at the long private driveway, massive gate, and private road leading up to it. She thought about the instant responses of the man and woman at the house and the guard at the gate. She recalled Claude’s reaction at the airport when the girls had screamed at him.

She dropped her purse in her surprise.

Claude winced and quickly grabbed her bag, offering it to her. “Can we have this conversation inside, please?” he requested.

Byleth shook her head to clear it but followed him inside the palace. “Were you ever going to tell me, Khalid?” she asked, putting extra emphasis on the name.

He sighed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I like the unknowns of everything better,” he said as they walked into a grand entranceway.

“You’re Khalid Al-Qadir,” Byleth pointed out. “You’re the Crown Prince of Almyra and you’re studying at a Fódlani university under a fake name?”

Claude led her down a hallway towards what looked like dozens of large bedchambers. “Khalid Al-Qadir doesn’t leave Almyra. Claude Rahan, the grandson of diplomat Oswald Rigaud, is studying at Garreg Mach.”

Byleth stopped walking. “Same person,” she said bluntly.

Claude stopped and turned to her. “My mother is the daughter of Oswald and I really am half-Fódlani. I just also happen to be the prince of Almyra. Now, my fascinating life story aside, I believe you came all this way to see the Royal Galleries didn’t you?”

Byleth frowned. She was absolutely not done picking at Claude’s cover. But, she did want to get into the Royal Galleries and it made sense that the prince would have access to the galleries and could get her in without the stigma she might normally face as a Fódlani native trying to view the private gallery of foreign royalty.

- ~ -

Almyran Royal Galleries - 21 Ethereal Moon, 732 AU

There were three tapestries. Each was the height of a wall and a full arm span wide. Each tapestry was preserved behind glass with a small inscription card at the base explaining what each depiction was supposed to be.

The first one of the three–the largest one–was the King of Dawn. The King of Dawn had been the leader of Almyra in the Post-Unification Years. The tapestry depicted him riding on the back of a dragon-like beast holding a bow in one hand and the Almyran flag in the other. His features were stoic and neutral, but he didn’t look unkind or harsh, just neutral.

“I was named for him,” Claude said from beside her, his eyes on the woven face of the king. “Khalid,” he explained. “My father wanted me to have big footprints to fill, I suppose,” Claude mused.

“No kidding,” Byleth agreed.

In the hours that she’d been in Almyra, she had managed to wrest the rest of the story from Claude. He chose to study in Fódlan because he had friends there that he had made while visiting his grandfather during Oswald’s work as an ambassador and because he wouldn’t be recognized as royalty. That was the explanation for the fake Fódlani name as well.

Byleth stole a glance at Claude and then looked back at the King of Dawn. “You look like him,” she said quietly.

Claude laughed. “My mother thinks so too. It’s why she thinks it’s especially funny that I chose to go by Claude at Garreg Mach.”

“Funny?”

Claude gestured at the Almyran king. “He supposedly had Fódlani blood too. In the records of saved correspondence we have, apparently he went by a fake name for a while too.” Claude said something in Almyran that sounded a bit like he was butchering his own name and shrugged. “It doesn’t really have a good translation to Fódlani, but it sounds enough like Claude that it’s where I got the idea for mine from.”

Byleth laughed. “That’s one way to fill someone’s shoes.”

Claude gave her a wry smile and nudged her towards the second tapestry. This one depicted a tall blonde man with an eyepatch brandishing a lance toward the sky. It wasn’t hard to recognize the King’s Relic as the lance in the pattern. This was an image of the Saviour King.

Byleth hummed to herself as she admired it. “It’s interesting how Fhirdiad refuses to acknowledge these,” she commented. “They’re the only surviving visual depictions of the King and the Guardian and yet they claim that they’re not accurate.” She shook her head.

Claude pondered that thought for a moment. “I think it’s partly because of the way they’re portrayed. Look at the King of Dawn and how regal he looks in his full royal regalia. This king,” he gestures to the Saviour King, “is wearing battle armour and has an eye patch. Those details aren’t exactly flattering to a figure known in Fódlan as the Saviour King.”

Byleth nodded. “I agree.” She tipped her head to study the features of the Saviour King. “He’s more expressive. It’s like someone described this image to the artist whereas with the King of Dawn it was more of an artist’s free interpretation.”

“You’d be correct in saying that,” Claude affirmed. “All three of these tapestries were commissioned by the King of Dawn. There was also supposedly some kind of enchantment placed on them to preserve them through time.” He smiled fondly. “It’s why they’ve survived so long.”

Byleth turned away from the Saviour King to the last of the three tapestries. On this one, a woman stood pointing a blade high toward the sky. Light seemed to be pouring out of the blade and even out of her. She had mint green hair and eyes and an intense look on her face. Like the Saviour King, she appeared to be dressed in attire appropriate for battle. Notably, she lacked any iconography that would have linked her to the church of the time.

“That’s a woman I would trust with my life,” Claude commented, slipping his hands into his pockets casually. “I still think she looks like you.”

Byleth touched her hair self-consciously. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “I thought seeing her in person would let me decide for sure if all of this was crazy, but I don’t know. She’s detailed too, so I’d bet that the King of Dawn described her to the artist in this image.”

“It means it’s probably accurate in the physical description,” Claude finished. He glanced at her. “They’ve even gotten her sword right which tells me that the person who gave the details for these pieces knew her fairly well.”

Byleth crossed her arms. “Yes. It’s been widely speculated that there was some kinship between the King of Dawn, the Saviour King and the Guardian of Order. If it’s true that the King of Dawn commissioned these pieces, it’s basically proof that they were friends in some capacity or at least that they knew each other better than surviving Fódlani records indicate.”

“Maybe they were friends,” Claude said lightly.

Byleth smiled faintly. “Maybe,” she agreed. “It would make for an interesting historical connection, wouldn’t it?”

- ~ - ~ - ~ -

Royal Palace, Fhirdiad - 7 Great Tree Moon, 1 AU

“If this is an issue regarding unity, we should both be there,” Byleth said firmly.

She placed her hands against the table and pushed herself to her feet. Her fingers crinkled the paper of the map and she immediately flinched at the four separate voices that cut her off.

“No!” they all urged, each in different tones.

Byleth sighed and looked around the room. In the council room of the palace, she felt out of her depth. Usually, if there were disputes, the issues were brought, with her husband, to Garreg Mach, but this had arisen during one of Byleth’s few stays at the palace in the capital.

The meeting this time consisted of Dimitri and herself, Seteth, Ingrid and Sylvain, Ashe, Dedue, and Mercedes. They were really only missing Annette and Felix to have had the whole gang together, but Annette had had responsibilities in Dominic that had required more immediate attention and her fiancé had gone with her.

Sylvain, Seteth, Ingrid, and Dedue had all spoken out against Byleth’s idea.

“With all due respect, Your Grace,” Ingrid began, in a calmer tone, “since the issue is with unity, it’s too dangerous to have you both go. Someone may see that as an opportunity.”

“She’s right,” Sylvain agreed. “If I learned anything from my time dealing with Sreng, it’s that you can’t send all your best soldiers in your first wave. Diplomacy is just a special kind of war.”

They were right, of course, but it didn’t mean Byleth wasn’t annoyed with the fact that she and Dimitri both wouldn’t be able to go. Dimitri sighed and rose from his seat, skirting the table so he stood behind Byleth as he pressed a comforting hand to her back. He could sense her agitation and she knew he didn’t like them being separated any more than she did.

“Then I will go,” Dimitri said.

Byleth frowned. “You have other things to worry about here. Surely I can go?”

Seteth shook his head. “I’m afraid His Majesty is correct. The people in this region,” he paused to gesture at the map, “are not our most pious believers. They were more affiliated with the Western Church before the war so I would not feel comfortable sending you, Your Grace. His Majesty should handle this.”

Byleth folded her arms. “Fine,” she replied shortly. “Is there anything else to be discussed?” She let her eyes flick between her friends.

Ashe shook his head. “That was my only report,” he said. He stood from the table and gave a short bow to both Byleth and Dimitri. “I have some correspondence to write, but send for me when you’re ready, Your Majesty.”

Dedue and Mercedes both spared Byleth and Dimitri smiles before they left the room. Sylvain watched the others leave before he rose from the table as well. He glanced almost warily at Seteth who returned his gaze sternly. After a long moment, Seteth’s eyes narrowed and he bowed to Byleth and Dimitri before sweeping out of the room. Sylvain inhaled like he was trying to gather himself and Ingrid reached up from her seat and took his hand.

“We had something we wished to tell you both before all of this started happening,” Ingrid said, directing the words to Byleth and Dimitri.

“We wed last month,” Sylvain confessed.

“What?” Dimitri asked. Byleth felt him tense behind her. He sounded offended. Byleth knew he was not overly shocked at the fact that his two friends had been wed, but he was surprised that there had not been a ceremony for him to attend.

Ingrid winced at Dimitri’s tone of voice. “Your Majesty, it was a small ceremony. We hadn’t intended for it to go down as it did, but other circumstances had called for it.”

“Other circumstances?” Byleth pressed. She had a faint idea where the conversation was going, but it made something in her stomach twist uneasily.

“The same circumstances that will make it so that I will not be accompanying you on this endeavour,” Ingrid admitted. “I am with child.”

“Congratulations,” Byleth said earnestly. Even though she truly meant the words, they felt bitter on her tongue.

Dimitri chuckled behind her. “I am happy for you both,” he said firmly. “I hope your affair was suitable to you both at least.”

Sylvain laughed. “Well it was just us, Mercedes, and Felix in a tiny room in Galatea, but it was perfect. We’re sorry we didn’t have a bigger celebration.”

Dimitri shook his head. “No, I understand.” His thumb stroked Byleth’s back. “We understand the desire for privacy,” he added.

Ingrid smiled then, a much more relaxed and sincere expression. “Thank you, Your Majesty, Your Grace.”

Byleth forced a smile over the lump that was welling in her throat. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

With that, Sylvain helped Ingrid up and they each gave a short bow before slipping out of the council room, leaving Byleth alone with Dimitri. As soon as they were gone, Dimitri slid his hands up to rub at her shoulder blades. His thumbs pressed into tightened wads of muscles and Byleth tensed before relaxing under his touch.

“Are you alright, Beloved?” he asked quietly. “You’re tense.”

She shook her head. “I am fine,” she assured. “I just find it funny how only moons ago we were joking that all of our friends would be pairing off and now they are. We have Felix and Annette’s wedding next month and Dedue and Mercedes have begun courting as well. From Leicester, we have even heard of Marianne and Lorenz’s betrothal and from Aegir, Ferdinand has proposed to Dorothea. And Sylvain and Ingrid will be having a child.” Her last addendum came out softer than the rest and Dimitri picked up on it.

He dropped his hands to her waist and spun her so that they were face to face. Worry had furrowed his eyebrows and Byleth immediately reached up to cup his face and smooth out his concern with her thumbs. He didn’t seem appeased by her gentle touch.

“I am sorry for the politics that are coupled with our relationship. If we could live quietly in a tiny house on a hill somewhere, I would, but,” he trailed off, looking sad.

Byleth smiled at him and brushed her thumb along the string holding his eyepatch in place. “I know,” she replied. “I am just afraid I am letting you down, my love.”

Dimitri looked affronted. “How would you ever let me down?”

Byleth dropped her hands to cover his on her waist and slid one over her stomach, frowning. “I suppose hearing their news has only highlighted my own inadequacy on that topic.”

Dimitri heaved a breath and quickly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in tightly so she was pressed flush against him. His lips pressed firmly to the top of her head and Byleth traced her hands over the expensive silks of his jacket as he held her.

“We have been married for 4 months, my dear, anyone who is already worried about an heir is crazy.”

Byleth leaned back enough that she could look into his face. “I am worried,” she confessed suddenly.

“What?” he questioned softly.

Byleth shut her eyes. “I don’t know if I’m truly mortal, Dimitri,” she said. “Surely you have noticed that I lack a heartbeat, haven’t you?” The way his brows knit told her that he hadn’t processed the information even if he had noted it. “I don’t know what I am,” Byleth confessed quietly.

“Why would you not be mortal? You are flesh and blood in my arms here,” he said firmly.

“No mortal can wield the Sword of the Creator without a Crest Stone,” she countered.

Dimitri looked concerned for a moment. “What does this mean for you?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe these troubles we’ve had conceiving will never go away. Maybe I will never bear children. Maybe they’ll all be born dead.”

The last thought was so grim that her voice broke and she felt tears pricking against her eyes. Dimitri hugged her even more tightly and kissed her head again. She breathed in his scent and clutched to his warmth for reassurance.

“We will figure this out together,” he said firmly. “We can talk to as many healers as it takes.” He leaned back to stare into her face, his gaze unwavering. “But I will always love you, no matter what happens next, alright?”

Byleth exhaled and nodded. “Alright,” she agreed.

- ~ -

Royal Palace, Fhirdiad - 10 Great Tree Moon, 1 AU

The bed next to her was already cooling by the time she awoke. Byleth’s hand reached across the sheets and found nothing so she blinked her eyes open. She was alone, but there was movement in their chambers. She shifted, pushing herself up onto her elbows as she watched Dimitri dress from the bed.

Her movement drew his attention and he turned back toward her. “Good morning,” he greeted pleasantly.

“It would be better if my husband hadn’t risen without me,” she teased.

Dimitri smiled faintly as he laced his pants and looked around for his shirt. “How unfortunate,” he agreed. “More unfortunately, I do have to leave this morning,” he reminded. “I have made Ashe, Dedue, and Sylvain linger long enough.”

Byleth huffed. “I want to go with you.”

“I know,” Dimitri agreed. “I wish you could join us. But, Seteth is right. We should not test the Western Church at a time like this. The Kingdom is still fragile.”

Byleth nodded. “I know.” A small bead of pain pulsed in her abdomen and Byleth shifted so she was sitting fully to relieve the cramp in her stomach.

Dimitri located his shirt and was pulling it on when he glanced back at her and saw that she was sitting and that the sheet had pooled around her waist, leaving her exposed from the waist up. He immediately turned away and did up his shirt.

Byleth laughed at her husband. “Oh come on, are you really going to just leave right now?” Another cramp twisted in her stomach and she frowned, rubbing the heel of her palm against the soreness. More pain radiated when she touched it and she exhaled breathily against it.

Dimitri heard her and turned back to face her, looking worried. “Byleth?”

She shook her head and closed her eyes as the pain faded. “Just a cramp,” she assured. “I’m fine-” she cut herself off with a gasp as a headache blossomed between her eyes. Pain spiked from her stomach again and she couldn’t hold back the whine that slipped between her lips.

“Byleth!” Dimitri cried out as he bounded across the room. He knelt beside her bed on her side and reached for her. “Byleth, what’s wrong?”

Byleth curled her arms around her stomach and whined at the splitting pain again. “My stomach,” she gasped between the sharp waves of pain radiating out. A particularly bad pain seized her and she cried out in pain.

As the strong wave faded, Byleth felt something wet rush between her legs. Slowly, she reached down and felt for the wetness. When she pulled her fingers back, they were coated in a sticky dark red substance. She and Dimitri both stared in shock at the blood on her hand. Almost immediately after, another strong pain hit her and Byleth buckled to the side.

Dimitri’s arms shot around her as he caught her before she could collapse completely. Byleth’s eyes fluttered from pain and she felt them burn with tears. He immediately reached for the slip draped over the headboard and pulled it around her and cradled her in her arms.

“Byleth, are you alright?” he asked, fear clearly evident in his voice.

“It hurts, Dimitri,” she breathed out as another sharp flare caused her vision to tunnel momentarily. She felt a few tears glide down her cheeks as her headache intensified. Byleth rested her head against his shoulder and tried to steady her breathing.

Dimitri’s arms shifted and then she was suddenly airborne as he held her tightly. “Mercedes!” he yelled.

Byleth’s whole body twitched from pain and Dimitri immediately stood from the floor and made for the door to their chambers, still holding Byleth in his arms. He slammed the doors open so hard that she was pretty sure the wood splintered and yelled for Mercedes again.

Down the hall, in the guest chambers, a door slammed open and Sylvain sprang into the hallway wearing a pair of pants and two different shoes. Ingrid peered around her husband down the hall towards Dimitri and Byleth.

“Mercedes!” Dimitri yelled again.

This was finally enough to catch her attention as Mercedes’s door slammed open and she ran out into the hallway towards them. She reached their side quickly and Dimitri lowered himself and Byleth to the ground so Mercedes could kneel and assess Byleth.

“What happened?” Mercedes asked calmly. Her brow was knit, betraying her worry, but she kept her tone even and clear.

“She was just suddenly in pain and then she was bleeding,” Dimitri said quickly, his voice wavering.

Byleth turned her head toward Mercedes and watched grief spread over her healer’s face. She whimpered when her stomach muscles spasmed and Dimitri made a noise like he had been stabbed as he looked down at her.

“Bring her to the infirmary, quickly,” Mercedes instructed, jolting back to her feet. She spun in the hallway and saw that the rest of the guests in this wing, Dedue, Sylvain, and Ingrid were all standing a few feet back, staring on in horror. “Ingrid, please, I’ll need your help.”

Ingrid looked startled. “Mercedes, I’m not a healer,” she argued.

Mercedes shook her head firmly. “You’re a woman,” she pointed out and then immediately started down the hall to the infirmary.

Byleth clung to consciousness as Dimitri practically jogged with her to the infirmary. As soon as he had laid her down on one of the cots, Mercedes shooed him from the room.

“Absolute not,” he hissed. “I am not leaving her.”

“Yes you are,” Mercedes said firmly. “You will wait outside and let me work, Dimitri.”

His shoulders crumpled and he gave Byleth’s hand a firm squeeze. “Please help her,” he whispered to Mercedes. Dimitri left then, sliding past Ingrid who stood tentatively in the door to the infirmary.

Mercedes immediately set to work creating a poultice of herbs and called Ingrid over. “I need her to eat this,” she instructed, handing Ingrid the bowl of crushed herbs.

Mercedes cast a Fortify spell and Byleth gasped at the relief the spell gave her. Ingrid carefully fed her the bitter herbs and Byleth choked them down, forcing herself to swallow despite the pains that made her gag. Mercedes ran a comforting hand through her hair as she cast another healing spell.

“That’s it, Byleth, it shouldn’t be long now.”

Ingrid held her hand and Mercedes continued brushing her fingers through Byleth’s hair for what felt like an hour before there was a last weak pulse of pain in her stomach that faded. Byleth closed her eyes and just took several deep breaths to steady her breathing. She dimly felt Mercedes move around to her lower body and do a brief clean-up before she came back up to be level with Byleth’s head.

“Byleth,” she said gently, “did you know you were pregnant?”

Byleth’s eyes shot open and she half-sat up on the cot just out of reflex. “What?” she demanded breathily.

Mercedes gave her a sad smile. “I guess that’s a no,” she assumed.

Ingrid squeezed Byleth’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Byleth,” she murmured.

Byleth breathed in sharply and looked between the two women. “Why are you sorry?” When Mercedes didn’t answer immediately, Byleth jerked her hand away from Ingrid and wrapped her arms around her stomach. “Why are you sorry?” she pressed.

“You miscarried, Byleth,” Mercedes said quietly. “We lost the baby.”

A chill spread from the centre of her chest through her whole being and Byleth shifted so she was sitting up. She wound her fingers in the thin silk of her shift and stared blankly ahead at the wall. She hadn’t even known there had been life inside of her. Mercedes and Ingrid, to their benefit, didn’t try to comfort her further. Instead, Mercedes sent Ingrid out to retrieve Dimitri.

In the back of her mind, Byleth heard Mercedes explaining what had happened to Dimitri. She heard him let out a choked sob before he was sitting on the edge of the cot, pulling her into his arms tightly.

Numb, Byleth let Dimitri whisper words of comfort into her ear and she closed her eyes and just listened to the steady thrumming of his heart.