#deacon’s dying of laughter

[xxadvictoriamxx]

Desdemona: do you know what a synth is?

Sole: *turns to Nick* what’s a synth?

[theflowerofthecommonwealth]

They joined in with Nick on the snazziness. The last photo is mandatory now.

[kcterincs]

yesterday on #whenthemoonhangslow:

[When The Moon Hangs Low is a TTRPG I’m playing with friends in a colonial Manila setting, and I’m playing Carmencita, a charismatic yet oddly creepy noblewoman hunter. She’s investigating a lead in a murder case with the party’s Lurch-like sacristan-energy tank Prax, and is currently in Quiapo talking to young students skiving off university about a cult.]

CARMENCITA: [with interest] A revolutionary around the corner? What was he talking about? STUDENT: He was talking about all things revolutionaries love to talk about. Like liberty, fraternity, equality, mutual aid, you know. The search for beauty and truth. DOS (OUT OF CHARACTER): Oh no, not beauty and truth!

-

CARMENCITA: I bring out the scapular. I don’t say from where. EVERYONE: [BURSTS INTO LAUGHTER FOR TWO WHOLE MINUTES]

-

NPC: [hands the scapular back to Carmencita] Why don’t you show it around, ask about the Matang Pikit (closed eye), and you’ll find that old fogey talking about all this down one of the streets. [under his breath] Sounds like a bit of a scam to me. PRAX: How old is old? NPC: Oh, positively ancient. He must be 35.

-

STUDENT: Before you go, would you like to stay for a round with me? ILDY (OOC): Oh no he’s flirting CARMENCITA: [warily] A round of...? GM: Betel chew. You’re in front of a stand with a vendor selling it right now. ILDY (OOC): It stains your teeth black. It’s a sign of beauty in some cultures--but wE’RE NOT IT PRAX (OFFHANDEDLY, OOC): Students sure flirt differently nowadays. CARMENCITA (OOC): Not remotely sexy.

-

[Dos and Carmencita are undercover interviewing a deacon. He notices that Prax, our Infested Hunter who speaks to locusts, is in the trees outside the chapel.] DEACON: [to Dos] Oh, please tell your friend Zaccheus to come down. DOS (OOC): Wait what--oh [dissolves into laughter] CARMENCITA (OOC): [warily] Is this a Bible reference GM: Yes, remember the tax collector who hid in a tree because he wanted to see Jesus-- PRAX (OOC): No-- GM: Perhaps I should say, “Zaccheus, come down, for today I am to dine in your house.” EVERYONE, NON-PRACTICING OR EX-CATHOLICS: NO

-

[Carmencita is bleeding from the leg and has sustained one Wound, a mechanic that means she’s close to death. If she sustains one more, she’ll die. But as the first healing attempt fails, suddenly the deacon and initiate, both of whom are out cold and subdued after the WILDEST BATTLE, awaken. Everyone goes into combat again.] CARMENCITA: [bleeding out in a pew] Hi!!! I’m dying GM: Carmencita says, “Let’s not forget that this scene is about me.”

[rogerstaylor]

Roger: Deaky, what’s the best kind of amp to buy?

John: Wouldn’t you like to know, Dentist boy.

[imdoingaokay]

Just found your blog and im SO HAPPY!!! Love all of your stuff!!!

In the mood for some flustered boys 👀 how about male companions boldly flirting with sole, but getting flustered when they reciprocate?

(A/N: I've been working on this one for AGES.)

Danse

Oh no

OH NO

BUT OH YES

He keeps reciting the words in his head, over and over again. 

It takes him ages to finally muster up the courage to use whatever pick-up line he chose.

But when Sole gives him that smile? Giggles? Purrs some response that just hits different?

Congratulations, you killed him.

He’s frozen. Absolutely frozen.

Hopefully, you aren’t joking, his heart might break if you are.

But if you’re serious? Do you feel the same way he does?

Well, please tell him, he doesn’t know.

Then he regains consciousness and gives you that sweet smile as he melts.

God, this is the best possible scenario that could’ve come from this.

Deacon

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha-

Wait, what.

“Wait, you… you…”

Deacon initially thinks you’re joking, when you give him that cheeky grin and respond to his little flirt. But when you don’t laugh along with him? When you keep that smug grin on your face while his laughter dies off.

His entire face goes red (ears too, especially his ears… they’re the reddest.)

He gives this little nervous chuckle, and is entirely confused, waiting for you to say “SIKE” or something, so when that doesn’t come. When you either walk away with that grin on your face or when you cup his face and confess? 

Oh shit.

He… he should… talk with you… about this… about you two.

Gage

It’s once the power in Nuka-World is turned back on

Gage is drunk.

He’s drunk out of his damn mind.

So when he makes some overly sexual comment to you, he expects a slap across the face.

He’s not the type of guy that would get drunk during working hours, but this is different.

“But damn, you’re different too, boss.”

When you smile and give some vague but flirtatious response? 

If he wasn’t so drunk, he’d grab you, show you what he means.

Show you what you do to him.

After all, I don’t think Gage is a man of words… more of action

But when he’s shitfaced? 

Uh… give him some water and talk about it with him in the morning.

He’s… not at the top of his game right now.

Hancock

I don’t wanna lie to any of you and say he isn’t down to pound.

But if you are flirting with him, he might ask you (respectfully) if you wanna… ya know…

This man has no shame and will flirt back, though… hard.

If you’re in a relationship by this point, however, I wouldn’t be surprised if he just-

Picks you up? And now you two are totally banging.

Dr. Doofenshmirtz's voice: “Oh fr? On god? Just like that?”

And the answer is yes. Just like that.

By the way, I feel like this man's flirts are downright, filthy.

Like, Cait would be blushing by the end of what he says.

And she has.

Once she caught a few of his lines he was spewing at you, and she just…

She sputtered. Like, actually sputtered before leaving the room at top speed.

MacCready

You’re joking, right?

No?

Oh no.

He’s is staring (respectfully)

Hopefully, you’re not in immediate danger or anything.

I mean, if you were, it would probably take a least an hour or two for him to realize that you were, in fact, flirting.

And when he does. He needs to sit you down.

Because, he won’t deny his feelings for you any longer, but he doesn’t want to get the wrong idea… so… yeah…

Preston

Please send help.

He’s dying-

He’s alive but he’s dead-

Poor minuteman baby just made some joke about how he was a “Sixty Minute Man” and you just had to say you wanted to “test it out.”

I like to think he does a spit take. Like he nearly chokes.

He’s mentally running in circles trying to figure out if you were serious or not.

And then he looks up at you while you bite your lip and look him up and down-

He is truly a “no thoughts, head horny” dude at that moment

[aquato-family-circus]

It's been ages since I made an honest to god fanmix, but I felt simply compelled to make one for my new favorite gay lads 🎭🌼 Hope y'all like it

Spotify || Youtube

What You Know - Two Door Cinema Club Space Age Love Song - A Flock of Seagulls Anything for You - Ludo The Only Exception - Paramore Funky at Heart - Studio Killers Fidelity - Regina Spektor (They Long To Be) Close To You - The Ventures When You Go - Johnathan Coulton The Too Much Song - Lemon Demon Everybody's Lonely - Jukebox the Ghost When I Was Done Dying - Dan Deacon Underwater - MIKA Hearts A Mess - Gotye Plant Life - Owl City I Wanna Get Better - Bleachers I Will Wait - Mumford and Sons Laughter Lines - Bastille Always - Erasure Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy - Queen I Believe In A Thing Called Love - The Darkness

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Companions react to Sole who punks Deacon by slapping a plunger upon his bald head? I mean come on we've all thought about doing it to him and he kinda has it coming to him with all of his shenanigans. 👀

Cait:

“That’s all ya gonna do? Lame.”

Curie:

“I don’t see…oh, now I suppose I see the humor. Good one, madam/monsieur!”

Danse:

“Crude attempt of humor…well done.”

Deacon:

“Are you serious? *sigh*.”

Gage:

“That ain’t no prank, boss. We can do one better..”

Hancock:

“Hah! Didn’t see that one coming!”

Macready:

*dying of laughter*

Maxson:

“Mh…” *Questioning internally why he even left the airship*

Nick:

“Interesting..”

Preston:

“Is that what those were used for originally? Makes sense. *is being sarcastic*”

X6-88:

*rips it off Deacon’s head*

[technicallyoneofakind]

Lucille (sole): *decked in power armor. Goes into the house to get Elliot during the Pinned quest*

Deacon: *sees everyone from the Institute covered from head to toe in hazmat suits. Strips down to his underwear in protest*

Deacon: *strolls up to the Enrico Thompson next to the stairs. Pretends to flirt* Hello, beautiful~!

Enrico: *leans away uncomfortably* Please tell your companion to put back on his clothes...

Hancock: *dying of laughter. When he catches his breath enough between laughs* H-hey! M-maybe I should show off the goods, too-! *doubles over in laughter at the thought*

Lucille: *wheezing trying to keep from losing it, herself*

Nick: *smirks at the sight, seeing the humor of the situation*

Curie: *finds this scientifically fascinating but also very funny*

Enrico: I'm serious!

Nick: Pal, he's doing that cause you're all covered up for no reason. The air is fine. Take off the suit.

Enrico: *thinks Nick's sensors are broken and ignores him*

Deacon: Fine. Suit yourself. But I'm not going to stop being sexy and showing off my sweet bod until you feel less self conscious about yourself.

Enrico: I'm not self conscious! I'm being safe! From all the radiation and mutated diseases!

Hancock: That's part of the fun! Lighten up!

Enrico: *bitterly* I will not!

[the-extra-joker-art]

What You Deserve

And I ope-

May or may not have written some indulgent shit involving Deacon angst and my Sole Survivor, Happy. Really I just used Happy cause using a nameless Sole felt awkward ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I don't usually post written fanfiction, so critiques welcome!

Deacon wasn’t quite sure how long he had been chained up. He was sure it had only been a couple of days, but it felt like weeks. The Gunners that had locked him up thankfully had no idea who he was, or who he worked for, but all that did was make their visits less frequent and the long hours of the day blurrier. He was fading in and out of consciousness, hunger gnawing at his stomach whenever he opened his eyes and the numbness in his arms chained above his head was getting progressively more noticeable. Every now and again, he’d wake up to the sound of the door opening, followed by laughter and conversation, but his wakefulness would be quickly ended by a swift kick to his gut or the butt of a gun slamming against his already bloody forehead. As of right now the pain coursing through his entire body was nothing compared to the mental beating he was giving himself. He had no idea how he had gotten caught. It wasn’t supposed to be anything beyond a scouting mission; they had gotten word that a courser was lurking around a spot near Goodneighbor, and his job was to test the claim with his own two eyes. To his surprise though, the spot was actually a recent nesting ground of the Gunners. Deacon still had no idea where the courser claim came from, but he didn’t have much time to scout out an answer, because as soon as he found the camp the Gunners greeted him with a concussion to the back of his head. When he woke up, he was already chained to the wall of a windowless room that smelled of blood, vomit, and booze. He was dizzy enough already, but when more than one Gunner came in to interrogate him by adding more cranial wounds, he lost all sense of his surroundings. Apparently, the Gunners didn’t find his witty remarks charming at all. He couldn’t stop berating himself for getting caught. He was careless, he hadn’t checked his surroundings nearly enough. He should have asked around before he scoped it out, gathered intel. But instead he had to pull a Happy and rush in head first. He winced at the thought of Happy and the others. Were they worried? He was sure they would expect him to be more careful, to be more thorough. He wasn’t even sure if rescue would come in time before the Gunners decided they were done asking meaningless questions and just killed him. Deacon had fucked up bad, and he knew it. He chuckled, and gasped at the painful tightening in his chest. He was hoping he’d die a significantly more meaningful death than being killed by his own carelessness; Maybe he’d die saving someone, or blowing up the institute. At least a martyr's death would be more fitting for his chosen job, but this one seemed more deserving. Dying in the basement of mercenary bastards, without knowing if rescue would come, without nearly enough repentance for his past was just the kind of death someone liked him deserved.

“You’re a good man, Deacon…”

Deacon winced. Happy’s face flashed in his mind, the day after he had told her about his past, she looked at him differently. Almost with a look of awe, like she admired him. He couldn’t believe that even if he tried, but unlike most days, he was far too weak to stop himself of thinking of what she had said,

“You’re a good man, and I’m glad that out of everyone, you chose to travel with me.”

He wriggled against his binds, gasping in pain as the nerves in his arms started to feel again with the movement.

“The Wastelands are a little more bearable with you by my side.”

Deacon hadn’t realized he had closed his eyes so tightly, and when he opened them, he was shocked at the moisture on his cheeks. Tears ran down his face, silently falling against his filthy shirt. He couldn’t help but feel somehow this failure was letting Happy down. He knew it wasn’t, but his heart ached at the idea of her wondering why he wasn’t back yet, if she was worried at all. Again, he had no idea how much time had passed. Maybe she hadn’t even thought of him. He could imagine her helping another settlement, MacCready at her side, completely concentrated on supplying the people inside with water and defenses. Deacon's mouth twitched into a wry smile. Helping a settlement was considerably more important than saving one man from his own mistakes. He tried desperately to concentrate on the image of Happy in his mind, her face scrunched up in a smile, but he could feel his conscious slipping already. His body was going numb again, and he knew sooner or later he would fall back into restless sleep again. Using the last of his strength, he tried to think of an apology for his mistake. What he would say or write down in a last note for Des and the others, how he would thank them for making something of his life, for fighting to save so many synths. How he would thank Happy for dealing with his bullshit, and for staying with him despite everything. He would thank everyone for what they’ve done for him, and apologize for his failure. His mistakes. Again, he’s letting everyone in his life down. He blinked back tears as everything faded to black around him.

Deacon's entire body jolted as a loud crash filled the room. The sudden awakening made pain surge through his entire body, numbed limbs trying in vain to pull against his binds. He couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or not and his attempts to look for the source of the noise was met by blurred shapes. A giant shadow loomed over him, blocking the light from the door that he didn’t even realize was now open, and he groaned as he turned his head up, his gut clenching in fear as he realized the outline of a suit of power armor standing over him.

“Heh... You really didn’t have to put on your good clothes to… Finish off little old me…” Deacon forced a chuckle, his head lolling to the side. Power armor seemed a little much for killing one man, but he supposed these Gunners were the dramatic type. He tried to keep his eyes open, but his strength was wavering, and his breath uneven.

“Oh my god, Deacon…” A familiar voice came from behind the mask, “What did they do to you?”

Deacon tried to lift his head, heart racing as he recognized the voice tainted by the suit's robotic lilt.

“H... Happy…” He tried to say more, to speak more and apologize. For what he wasn’t sure, but he just felt he needed to. “I’m… Sorry…”

“Shh, Deacon. You’re okay. It’s okay.”

He barely even registered the lock on the chains being broken by the power armor's superior strength, letting out a pained breath as Happy gently placed his arms at his side. Deacon felt her wrap a metal arm around him as he began to fall to the side, his tired mind wondering how she was able to treat him so carefully in her hulking suit. He groaned and jolted when he felt a stimpack being stabbed into his leg, hand coming up to weakly grab onto her arm. He was trying to stay conscious, desperately trying to find Happy's face behind the emotionless mask.

“I’m getting you out of here.”

Her voice sounded far away, and his attempt to form a response only offered a breathy groan. His mind swam nauseatingly as the stimpack did it’s work, reconstructing the wounds the Gunners gave him, most of which were to his head. Deacon barely noticed that Happy had picked him up till they were already walking out the shattered doorway, looking down at himself to see that he was being carried bridal style, his body carefully nestled against her armored chest. He let out a shaky sigh, letting his body go limp as he realized he was safe in her arms. For a moment he was safe from his mistakes, safe from the pain that was now just a numbed buzzing through his whole body. He could feel himself slipping back into unconsciousness, but his mind filled with panic as he remembered where they were. His eyes opened wide as he looked behind them down the long hallways of the house they had dragged him through when he was knocked out, and he grimaced at the sight behind them. Blood splattered the wall of the kitchen at the end, the front door blown completely off it hinges. The bodies of the Gunners were strewn across the hall like grim decorations, themselves decorated with their own blood and bullet holes. The head of one of the mercenaries was completely blown off, his relatively fresh blood hiding the rotting wood underneath as it poured out of his body. Happy did this. She did this for him. He knew she could kill, she was an amazing shot, but something about this was different. They were more brutal, more bloody - The place looked like a Deathclaw had come through with a vengeance. In his exhausted mind he couldn’t tell what he thought of that.

Deacon felt himself losing grip on reality again, his eyelids feeling like lead as they slowly closed. He tried to keep them open, to get one more look at Happy. He wanted to thank her, to ask her if she was alright, but nothing came out. His breathing was finally evened out, and the only thing his body wanted to do was rest in the safety of Happys arms. It wasn’t a safety he deserved after the mistake he made, but he didn’t have the strength to refuse it, and he doubted Happy would let him. His head rested against the hard metal, and finally he faded to sleep.

“You got him… You got what you wanted. Now let me go.” The Gunner bastard on his knees on the front porch stared up at Happy, entire body shaking. The blood from his broken nose flowed freely, and his hands trembled. Maybe it was the fear, maybe it was the fact that she broke them under her boot. She had abandoned using her charisma to get him to help, which he was eager to do after she broke his leg too. Happy looked at him, her heated glare hidden by the tinted glass of the helmet.

“Come on! I lead you to the camp! I told you what you wanted, and you got the fucking prisoner! There wasn’t a courser here, okay? Just a bunch of useless synths!” The Gunner doubled over in pain, the effort of staying up almost too much for the shattered bones in his leg.

“You piece of shit… You say that like it’s supposed to make it better. Do you know who this is? His name is Deacon, and he’s a member of the Railroad. This man saves synths. He risks his life every day just to save someone he doesn’t even know from the Institute.” Happy turned away from the Gunner, “But you wouldn’t understand that, would you? No. You’re just a greedy bastard, you’re no better than a radroach.”

Happy looked down at Deacon, bloody but peacefully asleep in her arms.

“No, you wouldn’t know the first thing about saving someone. About risking your life for another. You don’t even know about loving anyone, do you? You’ve never loved anything in your life, besides bottlecaps.”

The Gunner let out a pathetic sob, looking up at Happy with fear in his eyes.

“Please! Just let me go! I... I’ll never take another job again! I’ll never even pick up a gun again! Please!”

Happy went silent, just staring at the man in her arms. She was never going to let the Gunner go, not after what he helped do to Deacon. There was only one person here that deserved mercy, one person who deserved the chance to repent for their crimes, and he was nestled gently in her arms, completely unaware of the conversation going on right now. She thanked whatever gods existed that he was unaware of what she had done to find him. Without another word she pulled out her gun and shot the Gunner in the head, his lifeless body hitting the porch with a thud. The blood pooled from his wound, eyes open in a now eternal expression of shock. She holstered the gun again as guilt pinged at her heart strings, feeling a lump in her throat when she looked at the dead Gunner. He had complied to her demands and betrayed his entire gang to show her the way here, and he deserved better than a death by her hands. Who was she to judge that he deserved death? To claim that he had never loved anyone? Happy didn’t even know who he was, or his real name. He was just a filthy Gunner to her. The guilt faded as she looked at Deacon. Of course he deserved a bullet to his head - He had helped take something very precious from her. She already had so much taken by greedy fuckers like him who just wanted to line their pockets and hurt someone who didn’t deserve it, and gods know Deacon didn’t. Even if he thought he did.

Happy stepped off the porch, looking ahead at the path illuminated by the moon ahead of her. She’d do that a thousand times again if she had to. She’d put a thousand bullets in anyone's head if it meant keeping one more person she loved in her life. That Gunner was just another Kellogg, the only difference was he wasn’t nearly as important. Happy would do this a million times more if it meant keeping Deacon by her side for just another day.

End.

[minervahopebeyond]

Blood Petals.

Chapter 25: Coping mechanism.

Monday came with the unfortunately reminder that the exams were next week so they needed to study. Like really study. At least, that was what Hermione told everyone who spoke to her.

Pansy and Blaise were actually hiding from her. Draco would have done the same if it weren’t for the burning feeling on his chest that was begging him to fix the things with Potter, again. Revising right next to the boy was the easiest way to be near without having to actually talk about that bloody weekend.

One problem, though: Ginevra was sitting on the boy’s lap.

Hermione tried to very casually suggest that maybe they could go and spend time with each other somewhere else; Draco was thinking: ‘Yes, somewhere else. Any other place. Leave. Be disgusting in private.’ Ron agreed with her that this was rather unnecessary.

Draco was having trouble keeping the coughs to a minimum. He had evolved to cough, in a very controlled manner, with his mouth close. The petals would accumulate there and the blond boy would swallowed them. After an hour or so, his mouth tasted like blood and daffodils. So fucking disgusting.

Ginevra laughed of something that Potter did and kissed him on the nose. Draco fought the urge to have a coughing fit right there.

“Draco.” He heard the voice and looked up. The hazel-eyed was holding his books, standing in front of the table... Talking to him in front of everyone. He blinked.

“Theo.”

They hadn’t spoken since Sunday morning. The blond boy thought that maybe Theodore regretted the time they spent together that way.

“I need help with Potions.” The brunette said while the corner of his mouth twitched upwards (with a very small gesture). Draco just shrugged and indicated him to sit next to him. The boy shook his head.

“I’m busy right now. After dinner”

And Draco watched him go, being indecently handsome and flirty in the most subtle way possible.

Weasley was watching him, a glint of mischief in his eyes, of complicity.

“Potions” The redhead pronounced every letter dragging it along, enjoying how red Draco’s face got. Hermione hit his head with a book an furiously wrote something in a parchment, looking sideways to check that the happy couple weren’t looking. He leaned to read what it said.

‘He is not out. Ginny doesn’t know. Shut your mouth.’

Then she broke the piece of parchment and returned to her book.

Potter seemed to be unaware of what Theodore had implied. That, or he simply did not care anymore. The daffodils started to hurt him again.

———————

Theodore's kisses were, probably, his new favorite thing in the world. The daffodils didn't agree, though.

The hazel-eyed boy was kissing his neck, Draco grabbed the boy's face and guided him to put his lips over his. He needed to stop thinking. He was seeing the scene in his head: Potter's lovey-dovey eyes when he looked at Ginevra, the redhead sitting on his lap, the way they kissed. The blond boy wanted to shut down his brain, and he only knew a way to do it.

Draco sat on the boy's lap, he heard him moan between the kiss. Theo pulled away just a little so he could speak, smirk in place.

"Did the Golden boy went all cave man on you, after I talked to you on the library?." Draco snorted and a petal escaped from his mouth.

"He doesn't care, Theo."

The brunette kissed him softly before whispering in his ear.

"Yes, he does. He sees me as a fucking threat and I'm loving it."

The mischief in his hazel eyes was the most indecent thing that the blond boy had seen in his short life. Draco laughed and called him a deluded idiot before pushing him to lay on the mattress and kissing him again.

———————

So... Draco had developed a new coping mechanism for the Hanahaki, basically. Every time he saw Potter with Ginevra, he would excuse himself and marched off to find Theodore.

The brunette was, mostly, still busy, but Draco found himself persuading him more than one time to use the Room of Requirement for something else entirely. He just wished that he could distract him so much that he would forget the mission all together.

He was returning from the Room of Requirement, it was almost dinner time and he needed to meet Blaise and Pansy. He was fixing his tie when he found Potter sitting alone by a window on the seventh floor.

The boy didn’t seem to notice him standing there, he kept looking at the window. The drops of rain were sliding down the glass. Draco couldn’t help to stare at the beautiful boy while he watched the rain fall.

He felt like it had been years since he saw Potter alone and brooding, in his very handsome and poetic way, with his green eyes full of emotions. The daffodils started to move inside him. ‘HE IS SO GORGEOUS.’ To which he internally responded ‘Yes, I fucking know already’

“Why don’t you join me? That way you can, at least, stare in a more comfortable way.” Potter said in a sassy tone, his eyes still looking through the window.

He felt the heat invading his face: cheeks, nose and ears. The flowers were thrilled that the boy simply knew that it was him. He forced himself to hold his breath as he walked towards the window and sat in front of him.

The green-eyed boy didn’t look at him, and the stayed in silence for a while... Looking through the window. The boy broke the silence.

“I was right.” Draco just stared at him, confused. Potter didn’t even look at him to explain. “I told you that, if you flirted with him or something, then he would see you: I was right.” The boy snorted. “Now, he can’t even keep his hands to himself for an entire day.”

Draco frowned, he sensed the annoyance in the green-eyed boy... He just couldn’t figure out why was he annoyed.

‘Yes, he does. He sees me as a fucking threat and I'm loving it.’

Could it be?... The daffodils were dancing around, so very happy, inside of him. He resisted the urge to cough.

“Well... I’m not complaining, Potter.” His green eyes glared at him.

“You should. You deserve more than the way he uses you.”

Poor, naive, Golden boy... He didn’t have a clue that, actually, it was the other way around. Theo was the one who took care of him when he was a mess. Theo was the one who offered to be a distraction for him. Theo was the one who asked to keep his first coughed up daffodil. Draco felt kind of guilty about it.

He didn’t want to use Theodore, but he felt like he might just cough daffodils all over the school if he didn’t. The blond boy actually tried to ask the boy about his feelings a few times ,but Theo would just kiss his doubts away or he would tell him to shut up; and the conversations ended right there.

“He is not using me. Believe me, Potter: I’m not doing anything that I don’t wish to do.”

The green-eyed didn’t respond. His eyes were on the bloody window again, moody face in place. After a while he decided that maybe he didn’t want to hear the answer but he was going to ask anyway.

“How are you with your Weasley princess? You seem happy.” Draco asked with his very best fake smile. Potter sighed.

“I don’t know...” Then, he checked to see that they were alone in the hallway, and looked at Draco. “You know how my dad looks at Padfoot?” The boy asked in a low voice, Draco just nodded. “I want that.”

The blond boy rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well, get in line.”

“Oh shut up, Malfoy. You are not even in the line. You don’t even know what it’s like to be confused about your feelings.”

Draco just stared at him, eyes wide. The boy sighed.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Potter.”

The boy looked troubled... The flowers were moving, begging him to get closer, to help with whatever he needed. He wished he could have some time alone in his own mind.

“I like her, I care about her... I just... How do I know if I love her? Shouldn’t it feel earth-shattering or something?”

“Why are you asking yourself this? You barely have been dating for a couple of weeks.” He said trying to appear aloof even thought he was dying to know.

Potter rested his head against the arc of the window and sighed.

“Everyone just keeps making jokes”

“Like what?” The boy looked at him from the corner of his eye, hesitant.

“That we are going to get married and stuff.”

His mouth was forming a little pout. Draco thought it was the cutest thing he ever saw. The flowers were so confused by the conversation that he didn’t even cough at the thought of Potter marring the she-weasel.

“I always thought you would.” The blond boy said shrugging.

The green-eyed boy blushed terribly, and frowned at him.

“Why?”

“Call it a hunch, Potty.”

The boy crossed his arms and looked at the rain again. Draco wished to draw him just like that, so handsome and moody. So very Potter.

“It doesn’t feel like the song.” The boy said in a very low voice, almost like a whisper. Draco hummed in understanding, he meant ‘Love of my life’.

Maybe he would regret this, but fuck it.

“It doesn’t have to feel like that.” The boy turned to look at him, expectant. “Did you know that John Deacon wrote ‘You’re my best friend’ to his wife? Sirius told me.” Potter just shook his head. “That’s another way of loving someone. You don’t need pain and angst to love more or something. You just fall in love and that’s it.”

The dark-haired boy was looking at him. Draco felt like those green eyes were looking for answers in the most deep places hidden inside of him. Draco swallowed the petals that tried to get out from his mouth. Something in that moment felt intimate, mesmerizing. The blush in his cheeks was getting worst.

“But that’s just it, isn’t it?” Potter started to say. “You fall in love. I don’t feel like I fell from anywhere.”

And it was so pure when he said it. So innocent. Draco’s mouth twitched in amusement before bursting into laughter.

“This is why I don’t like to talk about feelings. Everyone just laughs.” The boy huffed, and Draco laughed even harder.

“I’m sorry! But it’s just how it’s called! It doesn’t mean anything.” He responded between the laughs.

The green eyes were still looking at him. Potter hesitated to talk.

“Didn’t it feel like falling to you?”

Draco blinked. He remembered those big green eyes and the crooked glasses with the baggy clothes. He remembered the first sassy response he got from the boy on the train. He remembered seeing the boy catching the remembrall at the first quidditch class...

The petals escaped from his mouth as he coughed.

“Yes... It did.”

And Potter’s green eyes looked more conflicted than ever.

[theflowerofthecommonwealth]

I put a Pomade Wig on Nick. I didn’t even know you could do this.

Please excuse me while I go die of laughter in the corner.

[boundtoyouphff]

Chapter 16: Unwritten

A/N: Here is the next chapter! I hope you have enjoyed Chapter 14 and Chapter 15 that were posted yesterday! Please read those first before continuing to this one.

Oh, the magic of new beginnings.

The hope that fills you and inspires you that a fresh start is that key ingredient that you have been missing.

Opening the book to a new page, the start of an amazing adventure yet to come instills me with such joy and happiness looking into the unwritten future. It is time to start a new book in my life and close the chapter of the past. You cannot start a new book while remaining stuck in the last one. So I'm putting you away on the shelf because you are still a part of my past that has brought me to this moment. One I must not forget, but I cannot linger amongst the pages any longer.

But, when I looked one last time at the cover of the book I realized that I was not the author of this. That somehow this book of my life was not written by me, but by those who thought they knew me and those who tried to steer the plot into their own direction.

It is time to write my own book. But, this book is still unwritten. Filled with empty pages, but bounded in hope for what I will be writing in them.

It's time for me to write my own story, to be the author of my own life and the creator of my own voice.

It's time to show the world who really is Emilia Andelle.

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

Emilia took in a deep sigh as Ella continued to style her hair for her engagements with Green Peace this afternoon. The princess was handed a briefing by her new private secretary Evie Sharpe. Emilia released a genuine smile seeing how engaged and enthusiastic Evie was about today. She was a stark difference from her previous private secretary, Mia Deacon.

From the moment she had met Evie, Emilia eagerly wanted her to be spear heading her newly developed team. Even her father was impressed by the young woman's resume and further encouraged Emilia that she would be a great fit. Throughout the interviews of Emilia's new staff, her father Frederick was present for all of them as per the Queen's request. But, he made sure to take a step back and only provide advice when Emilia asked his opinion only after she had shared her own thoughts on the candidates. He wanted this team to be purely Emilia's choice and to find people who could not only share her vision, but help her successfully create it. The Crown Prince was proud of his youngest daughter for showing the initiative to create this remarkable team, one of her own making. The ideas she presented to him were well thought out like she had been visioning this idea for a while and now she was finally making that vision come to light.

"The director, Mr. Langford, of Green Peace will greet you when you arrive and introduce you to key staff members. Then we will proceed inside and have a tour of some of the sanctuaries before opening the new wing dedicated to helping the endangered, but also extremely adorable if I may add, Fennec Foxes." Evie was beaming as she finally took a breath and sat down across from Emilia. "They told me yesterday that they have a new litter of baby foxes that are dying to meet a princess and need to be named."

Emilia tossed her head back in laughter. "Well I certainly can do that. Thank you Evie for this."

"Speaking of endangered animals..." Ella piped up into the conversation. "I have this piece of jewelry that you wanted me to order for today." Emilia's stylist held up a pair of earrings that were very delicately designed butterflies with a custom emerald green gem stone.

"Wow! These are perfect!" Emilia carefully cradled them into her hand. The princess was able to sit down with Ella and Evie to go through her personal style for attending engagements. Emilia wished to add even more of an impact through the clothes and accessories that she chose to wear to shine a light on young sand upcoming designers, local designers during her tours and showcase accessories that profits go towards a charity project or change initiative. These butterfly earrings were created by a Illyrian college student who was using the proceeds from purchases to fund her non-profit conservation project of protecting at risk butterflies and birds. It was Emilia's hope that she could shine a light on this piece and use her influence to aid this young college student that shared her passion for conservation. It was little things like this that Emilia would use to create her own identity. To show how far her reach could go beyond engagements and simply making an appearance.

Emilia suddenly became quiet as she dug out a bracelet that was sent to her by Harry. She noticed it on one of their recent video chats and asked him about it. It was a piece that represented Harry's rhino conservation project in Africa. Emilia was hesitant to ask the prince if she could have one and wear for today's engagement. Harry's smile lit up at her question and was happy to send her one. But, he did feel the need to remind her that he is known for wearing it all the time and that the press could link them together if she were to wear it.

"Ooooh, I love that bracelet. It would work so well with your outfit today Emilia! Those blues would tie in perfectly." Ella smiled happily before she got a glimpse of Emilia's uncertain expression that had formed on her lips.

"I know, I just don't know if I should wear it." The princess released a deep sigh. She stood up quickly and grabbed her phone. "I will be right back. I need to call someone." Emilia didn't feel right wearing it today without Harry's blessing for the simple fact that they could be linked, but a piece inside Emilia wanted Harry along for the start of her new journey today and by wearing the bracelet, he could be.

Evie and Ella both watched the princess find a private area to make a call. Evie slowly turned her head to look up at Ella who was displaying a happy grin as if she knew exactly who Emilia was calling. "Should I know anything Ella?" Evie stood up and faced her with an inquisitive look.

Ella shook her head. "No. Whatever do you mean?" Ella perfectly played it off and got back to her work.

"Hello?" Harry's deep voice resonated on the line immediately bringing a smile to her lips.

The princess closed her eyes and sighed. Just the sound of his voice was enough for Emilia to miss him. "Hey." She quietly responded.

"You ok?" Harry had picked up on her quiet tone. He knew that today was a big day for Emilia and her new team. He had stayed up quite late talking to his girlfriend and calming her nerves.

"Yeah I am alright. Getting ready for my engagement." She told Harry while finding a chair to make herself comfortable in.

"I am honestly so nervous. It needs to go perfectly well." The stress in Emilia's voice was evident. It was clear the amount of pressure Emilia was facing today was insurmountable. She had to prove to her grandmother what she was capable of achieving on her own merit.

"Babe..." Harry breathed out. "You are going to kill it. Just don't kill any of the endangered animals and you will be fine!"

Emilia groaned loudly at his attempt to make her laugh. "Henry..."

"Oh come on love. That was pretty funny." Harry continued to snicker on the other line being unable to hold in his laughter.

The princess could not hold in her laughter, hearing her boyfriend's infectious giggle ring out. She dissolved into a fit of giggles feeling the anxiety about her day float away. Emilia sighed deeply, silently thanking Harry for that moment of relief.

"Thank you for making me laugh." Emilia suddenly became quiet, thinking about the reason why she had originally wanted to talk to Harry. She held the bracelet he had given her in her hand, analyzing it carefully. "There was something I wanted to ask you..." she trailed off.

"What's that?" Harry encouraged her.

"You know how you sent me your Rhino bracelet that you always wear?" Emilia led on.

"Yeah, you got it?" His soft voice spoke.

"I did. But, I wanted to ask you if it would be ok if I wore it on my engagement today." The dark haired princess breathed out. "Before you say anything, I want to explain." Emilia felt the need to, as the bracelet would surely link Harry to her if the media picked up on it. "I know that the press could find out that it is something you may have given me, but it has been reported that we are merely royal friends. I want - " Emilia was hesitating to tell Harry what was growing in her mind.

"Just tell me, Emilia."

"Today is a fresh start for me. My first engagement with my new team who I chose and this is something that I have wanted for so long. A new beginning to do the things that I want to do in the way I want to do them. You were a big factor in encouraging me to do this Henry. I want you to be a part of this new start today and I know you cannot be here. So I thought I could wear the bracelet today... so I know that you are still with me in another way. You are a part of this new journey for me." Emilia took in a shaky breath after finishing her rant while she waited for her boyfriend's reply.

"Emilia, you did not have to ask me permission to wear it." Harry's deep voice sounded over the phone. "I want you to wear it today and remember that I always have your back, no matter what. I don't care if they link it to me." The prince spoke freely. "You came here for the Invictus Games and I just did a whole tour with you in Illyria."

"I just wanted to check with you first." Emilia smiled happily at her boyfriend's response. "Thank you for supporting me babe and believing in me."

"Now, go out there and kick some ass. Call me when it's all done and let me know how it goes."

The smile plastered on Emilia's lips was hard to miss. "I will." Emilia sighed heavily. "God I can't wait to see you..."

"Don't remind me that I have to wait a few extra days because someone was leaving later than planned and I have to sit through two days of engagements knowing that you are in the same damn city as me!" Harry started to moan.

"It's not my fault!" Emilia giggled. "I will try my best to distract you anyhow."

"You better. Have a safe flight tomorrow."

"Bye baby."

Emilia hung up the phone and saw the press secretary Olivia Holmes and her new head of security Hugo Blackburn walk into her apartment.

Olivia searched the room for the princess and found her off to the side. She smiled warmly and started to approach Emilia. "Are you ready to go, your highness?"

Olivia Holmes was hired as Emilia's new press secretary, a liaison between the palace communications team and the Illyrian media. She came highly recommended by one of her closest friends, Scarlet, who was a news anchor. Scarlet was even afraid to cross Olivia and with her impressive resume of working for the British Illyrian Ambassador and for the famous female empowering Illyrian Senator Louisa Banks. Olivia was a force to be reckoned with, but she was a hard sell initially until Emilia shared her vision of what she wished to achieve as she found out that she was not planning on being the same cookie cutter royals as the rest of her family.

"For the last time Olivia, please just call me Emilia." The princess smiled warmly then released a deep sigh. "I would be lying if I said that I was not nervous about today..." Emilia glanced down briefly and put on Harry's bracelet.

"I would rather you be nervous right now than over confident." Olivia smirked. "Now, I will go over the journalist who will be asking you a few questions. She has been told not to drift away from these set few or she knows the price she will pay if she does." Emilia's press secretary giggled, lightening up the mood.

Emilia was half listening to Olivia when she saw Hugo approach her RPO Tristan who was standing beside the newly hired RPO, Kane McKinney. Her eyes locked in Tristan's gaze as a proud smile grew on his lips making the princess beam in return.

The princess had endured a long internal debate while she thought of giving Tristan the position of her head of security instead of Hugo Blackburn. It was not because he did not deserve it, more so the fact that Emilia trusted him more than anyway on her team and she wanted him right beside her. She sat Tristan down and told him why he was not getting the position while she was in near tears, but Tristan understood her reasons and told the young princess that he would rather be out protecting her than having the worries of being head of her security.

Kane McKinney had actually been recommended to Emilia from Prince Harry. Kane and Harry served together in the British Forces and went through basic training together. He had recently lost his Illyrian wife to a long battle of cancer, but was not ready to return to the life of the military and had chosen to stay in Illyria after his wife's passing. Harry was able to convince him that he could use his skills as a protection officer and when Emilia told Harry of her plans to form a whole new team, Kane was the first to come to his mind. Tristan had been showing Kane the ropes of being a royal protection officer even though he had completed a rigorous training course prior to his employment.

Hugo was lecturing them when Emilia approached her security team with a kind welcoming smile.

"Hello ma'am." Kane bowed his head. 'Ohh, I mean your highness." He stumbled out of his mouth clearly putting his nerves on display. Tristan rolled his eyes with a light shake of his head.

"Good morning Kane." She giggled at his expense. "Just take a deep breath and remember to watch Tristan. Luke is with us for a few more weeks to help out until you find your feet" Emilia rubbed Kane's shoulder in a warm comforting manner. "Also, like I have said please address me as Emilia. Just don't call me by Tristan's nickname for me and I won't have to fire you." She made light of the situation and got a quick laugh from Kane.

Hugo remained standing there in silence rather stoic and serious. Mr. Blackburn was the only one on Emilia's new team that she had a few doubts about. Emilia's father Fredrick did like what he saw on paper, but the man was a bit of a drill sergeant. She wanted to give the position to Luke Balvondio, one of her present RPOs but his wife was having a child in a few weeks and planned to take some leave to which Emilia was happy to grant. Luke knew the ins and outs of the security side and would have been the perfect fit. She secretly hoped to make the change once Luke was ready to return to his duties.

"Are you ready to leave ma'am?" Hugo's deep voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Yes, let's arrive on time today." Emilia took in a deep shaky breath and glanced around the room at her new team. A sense of excitement filled her making her lips spread into a beaming grin. She had done it and now she was about to show the world and her grandmother, The Queen, who this new Emilia was.

—————————

Tristan was quietly speaking to Kane, telling him what was about to happen as Emilia's convoy pulled up to the entrance of Green Peace Conservation.

Emilia sat quietly across from them, peering out the window to see the mass crowd lined along the metal barriers that had been waiting just to catch a glimpse of the princess. Her eyes wavered away from the crowd to see the media with cameras at the ready.

Clearly someone had felt her nerves exude from her body as she felt a soft touch on the arm. "Emilia, just remember to be yourself and that is enough." Evie's soft comforting whisper immediately dissipated all of her fears.

The princess turned her head slowly to lock in Evie's kind gaze. "Thank you Evie."

The car rolled to a stop in front of the entrance making the princess shift her gaze onto Tristan. "Ready Emilia?" His blue eyes held her gaze steady.

Emilia gave a light nod of the head signalling that she was indeed ready. Tristan jumped out of one side of the car, while Kane followed suit through the other side. Within a matter of seconds Emilia's door was opened by Tristan as a wave of screams greeted the princess.

She stepped out elegantly with a bright smile and turned back to wave to the crowd. It was the plan to do a walk about after the engagement, but Emilia felt it was best to do one now as well. These people had been waiting for her for hours and it only felt right to do so. Besides, part of her vision was to connect with the people and show the people that Emilia was merely one of them.

"Tristan?" Emilia only had to say his name to let him know what she was wanting to do. Tristan replied with a simple nod and spoke into his coms to alert the security team in the change of plans.

The princess stepped away from the entrance alerting the crowd that she was about to do a walk to greet them and they erupted in the loudest cheer that brought an enormous grin to Emilia's lips. Her light blue dress with white flowers that hung well off of her body flowed in the wind with each passing step. She tucked behind a few stray strands of her hair behind her ear while glancing quickly at the ground.

Emilia's Dress

Emilia's Hair and Makeup

She made it to the first awaiting group and took her time greeting the happy smiling crowd who were so eager to meet the princess. Emilia engaged in a conversation with a nursery school group who had come out to see the exhibition of the fennec foxes as well. They all had drawn pictures of their favourite animals for Emilia, giving them to her as a present.

"I might have to buy a new castle to put all of these pictures up!" Emilia joked and the crowd roared in laughter. "Thank you! I will see you inside." The princess was about to step away when a little girl escaped through the barrier and came running at her with her arms stretched open for a hug.

The little girl was so ecstatic that she had escaped through the confines of the barriers, but she was running so hard that she tripped and fell, scraping her knee on the concrete.

Emilia hastily went to her and knelt down to tend to the little girl who was now wailing. The blonde curly haired child clutched her knee and whimpered. Emilia brushed away the dirt and comforted the young child until the police officers let her teacher through. "It's alright sweetheart. Let's get your knee cleaned up so you can feel better."

The princess stood the young girl up and wiped away her tear stained cheeks and spoke to her quietly until she calmed down. Emilia then pulled the little one into the tight hug that she had come to receive and the whole crowd awed at the kind gesture. The child's teacher kept on apologizing, but Emilia simply brushed it off as no big deal and continued down the way to greet other members of the crowd.

She was stopped by a young woman seeming to be similar in age to the princess. The brave woman asked if she could spend a few minutes interviewing her for one of her college papers for her Journalism degree. Emilia knew she did not have time to stand there for an interview at that moment, but she told the college student to give her details to Evie and she would be happy to arrange another time to be interviewed.

Emilia felt Evie lean in and whisper in her ear that it was time for them to go for their engagement. The princess shook a few more hands and then stepped away from the crowd who was calling her back. "I will come around again after!" She hollered back and walked purposely towards a patiently waiting Mr. Langford, the director of Green Peace.

Mr. Langford politely greeted the princess in a bowed head and a firm shake of the hand. "Welcome back, your royal highness. It's a pleasure to have you visit us again."

"I am so sorry to keep you waiting, Peter. I appreciate the invite again to come and see all the work you and your amazing team are doing. Plus, I hear the Fennec Foxes are adorable and quite playful." Emilia was beaming. She felt relaxed, confident and excited to get this engagement underway.

"Emilia! Over here!"

"Give us a smile will you?"

The press behind the barriers started to holler at Emilia all eager to capture that one headliner image for the papers tomorrow. The princess put on a brave face and turned to smile at the media for only a brief second. Giving them limited time to photograph her which many photographers would surely be complaining about in the upcoming days. Olivia had briefed the media team and royal photographers that there would now be a few select members of the photographers actually allowed in the events and engagements coming forward. This change was quite the sore spot for the vulturous press pack that loved to capture every little moment of Emilia's engagements and fished for anything to use against her in the papers the next day. This idea was given to Emilia by Harry himself as he explained how the British royals conducted engagements with the press.

Olivia was hesitant to limit the amount of access to Emilia during engagements but found a way to work around this by allowing one or two photographers selected by Olivia to capture photographs of Emilia during her engagements. But, the catch was they had to share their content with any willing member of the media upon a request. The photographers had to sign an agreement before hand to ensure this would happen.

Emilia knew that there would be immediate backlash with this decision, but she wanted the engagements to be a bit more intimate. To be able to truly focus on the reason why she was there and not have a hungry pack of wolves on her back. By limiting their access to Emilia showed that she was not going to play their games anymore and that she held the power hand.

The princess continued on her way into Green Peace being introduced to some familiar faces and new staff before her official tour began. She sat in some of the teaching sessions that were being taught to local school children.

Olivia had pulled Emilia out of one of the sessions to conduct a short interview with Kelly-Anne Arbour, an Illyrian journalist. This was the part of the engagement that Emilia had tried to convince Olivia to forgo and not conduct one. She had never really been keen to do interviews as her parents had taught her from a young age to keep a healthy distance between the royal family and the media.

Emilia sat down across from Kelly-Anne and put on a smiling face, hiding the fact that she did not want to be a part of this. An innate gut feeling had settled in the princess's stomach that convinced her mind that something was not right about this situation. But, Olivia had vetted the journalist and she was to adhere to a strict line of questioning. She had to put her trust in Olivia.

"It's such a pleasure to sit here with you today, your royal highness, and be able to speak with you." The journalist welcomed here kindly.

The princess smiled with a gentle nod of reply. "Thank you for having me."

"Now, I know you are quite the busy woman here today out at Green Peace. But, I must steal a few of your minutes to ask you some questions." Kelly-Anne started out. "Now, as we have all been briefed, you have formed a new palace team as of late and today is your first engagement back with them. May I ask why you thought this change was needed? Why The Queen's previous choice of Mrs. Deacon was fired?"

Emilia took in a deep breath. None of these questions were what the journalist was supposed to ask Emilia.The princess turned her head and briefly locked eyes with a furious looking Olivia. "I appreciate your question, Kelly. But, the matter is rather simple that was outlined in the briefing you received." The princess informed her.

"Yes, but if you wish to comment about Mia Deacon?" The interviewer pushed further.

The princess tilted her head at the bravery she boasted. "I do not comment on past employees' work just like any other employer. Now shall we move on because you now only have two minutes left. As you said, I am quite the busy woman this afternoon." Emilia's sass came forth rather strong as Olivia got a glimpse of it first hand.

"Yes, let's talk about a few of your jewelry pieces." Emilia braced herself for what was about to be asked. "I noticed that one of your bracelets today is also famously worn by another royal, Prince Harry, who had recently visited Illyria on tour. Was this given to you by the prince himself? What sort of relationship would you say the prince and you have as it seems you two have been spending a lot of time together lately?"

Emilia was prepared for this and had the perfect reply. The princess glanced down at the bracelet and played with it a little before answering. "I am glad you noticed it. It was given to me by Prince Harry when he was in Illyria in an official capacity and I decided to wear it today to showcase how conservation is so important right now in the world. We are seeing animals getting added to the endangered list on a daily basis while their numbers are continuing to dwindle. It's important for everyone to play their part in protecting these magnificent creatures and give them that fighting chance at survival. As the reach me and Prince Harry have and the global platform that we are given, we have the responsibility to bring these issues into the light and broadcast the efforts of so many people that are trying to make change in the conservation world right now."

The journalist attempted to ask another question when Olivia stepped in and pulled Emilia out of the interview. "Thanks for your time Kelly-Anne, but her royal highness must continue to adhere to her tight schedule this afternoon."

Olivia fell into step beside Emilia and quietly scolded her. "Emilia... we need to talk about what you just confirmed about the British Prince Harry. This should have been run past me first."

"Not here Olivia. Clearly she was not even supposed to ask that question, this is why we don't do interviews." Emilia was furious at the journalist. "Scold her for not staying with the pre-planned questions, not me." The princess walked off being unhappy already with Olivia.

The princess stepped into the enclosure with a few members of the crowd watching her as she was guided through the endangered Fennec fox enclosure. Emilia was eager to learn more about these animals and how Green Peace was aiding them. She nearly gushed when asked if she wanted to meet and name a new litter of foxes, simply replying with a beaming smile and excited squeal to which the crowd found adorable.

She sat down on a nearby rock as a member of staff pulled out a couple of freshly born foxes who were fast asleep. Emilia had a few in her lap all snuggled together while she gently petted them. The mother then came out and rubbed up against Emilia.

"Is it ok for us to be handling them? They seem rather used to humans and the mom isn't as protective as I thought she would be." The princess questioned with slight concern. These were supposed to be wild animals after all.

"Excellent question. We are the only things that they know. Most of the foxes here will stay in a sanctuary like this until we are able to build a place more relatable to the wild and re-train them to be self sufficient." The handler informed her. "Now, we need to name them and thought it was best if our patron helped us with this batch!"

"I'd love to!" Emilia looked down adoringly at the little sleeping foxes then back up towards the crowd. An idea clicked in her mind.

"Would anyone like to help me name these little guys?!" Emilia hollered out and a few school aged children jumped at the chance to help the princess come up with names.

Emilia sat down into the backseat and released a heavy sigh. She closed her eyes and felt the door slam shut and the car pull away.

"Thank god that is over!" The princess chuckled lightly as. A wave of relief coursed through her. "Well done everyone!" Emilia glanced around at her team and thanked them for their hard work in such a successful visit.

—————

Later that evening, Emilia had called in Olivia and Evie into her apartment. She was dressed casually while finishing up packing for her trip to London for her training and Olympic trials for quite a few weeks.

Evie knocked lightly while she stood at the opened door to Emilia's private bedroom door with Olivia in behind her. "Good evening, Emilia. You wished to see us."

"Yes! Come on in!" Emilia waved them through as she placed a few more items into her suitcase. "Please sit down and make yourself comfy wherever."

The princess had picked up on Olivia's quiet demeanour when they arrived back at the palace. Emilia knew that she had to inform Evie and Olivia about her relationship with Prince Harry. But, she only wanted people to know who absolutely were required to.

Emilia sat across from them and smiled warmly. "I wanted to thank you for all of your hard work for today. You guys made everything run so smoothly and I think it was an amazing start for what's to come. So again, thank you!"

Evie was all smiles and said it was all around a team effort. Olivia was simply pleased with the results of the engagement today.

"I also called you here this evening because I wish to disclose a private matter to you that I only want your ears to know." Emilia lowered her gaze and found herself playing with the rhino bracelet on her wrist half indicating what she was about to tell them. "I am very cautious about my private life and do not wish to have many people in the know about my relationships, but I do understand that certain members of my staff need to be aware...." The princess trailed off and lifted her head to lock in Evie and Olivia's gaze while they patiently waited for her to continue.

"Prince Harry and I are in a relationship and have been since he ended his tour of Illyria last month. No one in my family is aware of this except for a few key people and it must remain this way until I deem it so. I realize that you need two need to be aware of this as key members of my staff. If any personal matters need to be addressed in this case then they must be done so in private and only with you two present." Emilia confessed solemnly. She did not want more people to find out about Harry and hers relationship at this time.

"Emilia, thank you for informing us." Olivia smiled warmly seeing how difficult it was for Emilia to openly trust them with this information, but it was vital that they were aware. "Will you be seeing him in London?" Olivia offered a kind hopeful smile.

Emilia lifted her head with a beaming smile graced on her lips. "Yes... it's been a long time since I have."

"I am sure that you miss him. I think you two are a perfect match, Emilia." Evie was gushing about this revelation. "We promise that this information is for our ears only." Evie took her leave.

"I am sorry about earlier, Emilia." Olivia began to apologize. "But, I need to know these sorts of things or else I would have advised you not to wear the bracelet today."

Emilia stood up. "No no. I need to apologize. I know you needed to know and that is why I am telling you now." She sighed deeply. "I am sorry I didn't tell you sooner about him, but I just wanted Harry to be a part of my day today. I do realize that may have been a mistake in how I achieved that. I don't always get it right Olivia, but I learn from my mistakes."

"No need to explain, Emilia. Have a safe trip tomorrow. We will be in touch."

--------

Emilia had finally landed into London after what appeared to be a long flight, but was only a few short hours. She was whisked away into an awaiting convoy with Tristan climbing into the backseat with her while Kane took control of driving the car.

The princess felt a sense of relief wash through her as she had made it to what would be her new home for the next month for her Olympic Training. She was still on a high after her successful first engagement yesterday with her new palace team and even received an adoring message from her father who watched the full coverage of it.

"Feels a bit like deja vu." Tristan commented as the memory of their last time in London came to the forefront of his mind. "Except this time we actually have a proper security team for you and I know I won't lose my job when we go back to Illyria or get my ass chewed off by the queen." He tossed his head back in laughter at Emilia's expense.

"Tristan... I can still fire you." Emilia glanced up and smiled warmly into his blue eyes.

"You could never get rid of me princess." He cocked a crooked smirk. "I think we have already established this on the fact you never could really lose me unlike my predecessors."

"You are right." Emilia shook her head. "Then I would have to stare at poor Luke all the time."

"Ya, I heard that Emilia." Luke hollered from the front.

It had been nearly an hour when Emilia looked outside the window wondering why they had not even reached the outer city limits of London yet. "Tristan, why aren't we in London?" The curious princess questioned as she looked further out deciphering that they were still indeed in the English countryside, but the setting of the sun made it quite difficult to make out where they actually were in combination with the dark tinted windows.

"We had to take a detour to avoid an accident, Emilia. Shouldn't be too much longer until we reach the city." Tristan avoided eye contact with the princess making Emilia inwardly question his response.

A few minutes later, Emilia felt the vehicle turn down a country side road hearing the gravel crunching beneath the tires. The princess glanced outside quickly to find that they were still in the middle of the English countryside, but could barely make out their surroundings through the dark tinted glass. She locked eyes with Tristan and raised her eyebrow up in suspicion as her gut held a feeling that something was indeed up.

"Tristan... you have one chance to tell me where we are or where we are going." Emilia's tone was serious, but her protection officer simply shrugged in response.

"Like I said, we took a detour and should be arriving soon." His answer was vague and nonchalant.

Not even a moment later the car rolled to a complete stop and Tristan motioned to undo his seatbelt. "Guess we are here." He finally looked at Emilia with a glint in his eyes.

"Stop!" Emilia stopped him from getting out of the car. "Where's here?!" The princess was beyond confused and wondering why Tristan was acting so strange.

"You will find out soon enough." Tristan got out of the car and rounded the vehicle to open Emilia's door.

Emilia slowly climbed out, looking at a happily smiling Tristan who closed the door behind her. The princess glanced around at the exquisite countryside manor that greeted her amongst the dimly lit sky.

"We took a detour to the countryside, Emilia. To surprise you." Tristan quietly spoke.

"Surprise me?" Emilia looked away from the manor for one second to glance at Tristan. But, when she turned her head back to the manor she saw that someone had come walking out the front door towards her.

She gasped loudly and covered her mouth with both hands at the surprise walking towards her. Emilia could not believe what rather who was before her eyes.

It was Harry casually walking towards the princess with a beaming smile.

"Harry." Emilia whispered his name as if she had to speak it to believe that she was actually seeing her boyfriend. Her heart tugged in her chest at the mere sight of him as her eyes welled up.

The princess was frozen in shock, unable to move her feet forward for a few seconds. The prince had stopped walking towards her and placed his hands casually in his jean pockets. The beaming smile that was evident on his lips, present for everyone there to see, caused her feet to finally run towards him. It had been a month since she had last seen Harry and Emilia did not want to waste one more second not being in his arms.

She took off running towards the prince. "Harry!" Emilia called his name louder being unable to hold in her excitement from seeing him.

He started to laugh at her shock while opening his arms to welcome her. Harry felt Emilia's body come crashing into him making him take a few steps back to try and steady himself from the impact. Her arms wrapped around him tightly while she buried her head into his chest and squeezed him tight.

"Hi love." He cradled the crown of her head gently and closed his eyes, relishing in the fact that Emilia was once again in his arms. The couple stood there for a few quiet moments embraced tightly with one another before Emilia broke apart and wrapped her arms around Harry's waist while peaking up at him. "I hope you didn't mind the detour." Harry chuckled while he stared into the depths of her icy blues eyes that the prince so terribly had missed.

"You are here..." Emilia slowly shook her head as the shock continued to linger in her body at the surprise of it all.

Harry's blue eyes softened while he angled his head down at his girlfriend with an adoring smile. He nodded his head lightly. "I'm here Emilia." His hand reached out and cupped her cheek tenderly before gently stroking it. He watched her eyes close and squint shut before opening them again as if she was trying to convince herself that this was not a dream.

"I have missed you so so much." Emilia became emotional and stood up on her tippy toes to snake her arm Harry's neck to pull him down towards her lips.

Harry controlled his urge and stopped a few inches away from her lips. He could feel her hot breath float across his lips as if they were calling to him. Emilia nudged her nose against Harry's, but the smile that formed on her delicious lips was the one that he had longed to see the one he often dreamt about. It was her natural happy smile that very little people were given unguarded access to.

"I have missed that smile." His deep voice weakened Emilia's knees as her other arm grasped his forearm to steady herself.

She could not wait a second longer as she crashed her lips into Harry's, connecting them with a passionate kiss that lingered. Harry immediately cupped both of her cheeks to hold her still while he continued to taste her delicate lips. The world around them ceased to exist as they found themselves locked into their own embrace while time stood still. The universe allowing them to share this moment of reuniting together.

Emilia was feeling the cloudy haze effect that her breathlessness had caused her. Her lips gently fell off of Harry's as she inhaled and breathed in his signature scent that brought a sense of comfort within her. She moaned softly causing Harry to suddenly capture her lips once again, locking them back into the passion fuelled kiss.

The princess gave up all control and succumbed to Harry's touch, loving the way he kissed her hard with such desire. Emilia felt his tongue seeking further permission to lock with her own to which she freely gave, allowing Harry to deepen their kiss further. His hand trailed down her cheek to the side of her neck feeling her heartbeat pounding through her soft skin.

Harry broke apart from their kiss and opened his eyes to find Emilia staring up at him with lust filled blue orbs greeting him. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers, resting it while they both attempted to regain their breath. Emilia's chest was rising and falling hard as the prince heard her jagged breath.

"I hope it was ok to surprise you like this." Harry was the first to break their comfortable silence. "I asked Tristan to keep it from you. I just couldn't wait a few more days to see you." Emilia's heartstrings tugged at his confession.

"It is the best surprise anyone has given me." Emilia giggled happily. "But, where are we?" The princess broke apart from their embrace to quickly look around.

"Highgrove House." Harry's hand dropped from her hip and blindly found her hand to hold. He turned around and gave her hand a light tug to follow him. "It's my fathers estate, but I used to spend my weekends here after school. It's quite secluded so I thought it would be best for us to spend the weekend here before you start your training."

Emilia lightly stepped beside Harry as she leaned into, grasping his forearm with her free hand. "Wait... what about your engagements?" She snapped her head up to find Harry smirking mischievously.

"They were never booked, Emilia." Harry chuckled lightly. "I lied to you so you would not suspect a thing, I'm sorry."

Emilia shook her head. "Just don't lie to me again, unless it is a surprise like this." The princess stood up on her tippy toes and placed a soft kiss to Harry's cheek.

"Come on, let me show you around." Harry squeezed her hand tightly. "I cannot wait to have 3 full days to have you all to myself."

"Hmm, whatever shall we do Henry?" Emilia could not hide her excitement even if she wanted to.

Quite frankly, she did not really care as long as if she was with Harry.

[tokyoghoose]

forgive these bastards ➤ prologue

summary ➣ when detective akaashi comes across a rather complicated case, he is faced with many challenges along the way. In his attempt to solve the murder of a young woman and a string crimes, he must work beside the reader to learn more about the victim. ( detective au )

theme song ➢ im not a good person - pat the bunny, sleep is for the weak - the dreadnoughts, the quittin kind - eleisha eagle, how do you sleep - himalayas, blow my brains out - tikkle me, when i was done dying - dan deacon, stalkers tango - autoheart, youre nobody until somebody wants you dead - saint motel, kitchen fork - john conte, distant past - everything everything, cough cough - everything everything

warnings ➢ mentions of murder and death, description of blood and gore.

announcements!

here it is! the prologue of ftb! :) I'm super excited to start this series! this is a little shorter than i wanted it to be, but I'm still pretty happy with it.

feedback is appreciated and welcome! requests are open!

—————

"Keiji, it's getting dark. Why not come inside for the night?"

The sun was just over the horizon, the moon coming up to replace it. It's bright—the orange and pink colors. The image is burned into young Akaashi's memory when he looks over. He waves at his mother with a nod before passing the volleyball back to his friends and running over. The scrapes on his palm sting and the bruises on his legs hurt a little, but he doesn't mind the sensation. It feels like freedom—even if he doesn't really understand the full meaning of the moon. This is what he imagines it feels like.

Games to be played with friends and laughter. If this is what life holds then he is more than willing to live it. His naivety holds firm when he grabs his mother hand at the door, being pulled into a brisk hug. She laughs and pats his hair and he thinks it's the kindest gesture in the world. He snuggles closer before pulling away to see dinner on the table. His mother locks up, looking quietly into the city with concerned eyes. She wasn't going to let anyone hurt him, the smile that she cherishes wasn't going to fade as long as she could help it. She turns with a smile, passing him a plastic fork before listening to the adventures Akaashi had gone on that day.

Childhood seems so far now.

———

If you were to tell Akaashi's five year old self that seventeen years later everything he thought about freedom and life was a lie and he would become a detective who took away other's freedom, he'd probably laugh and then cry and cry some more. If you were to tell him that his mother would die so he'd have to be raised by his aunt at the age of thirteen, he'd probably punch you in face in attempt to break your nose—and if you then told him that's the reason he became a detective and went through five grueling years of internships and having to learn how to stomach crime scenes in the first place, he'd make sure to add a swift kick to the shin with it. Even at twenty, if someone—anyone—would have told him that he'd never get sleep again because of the things he'd see day to day, eventually becoming desensitized, but still having nightmares that kept him up all hours of the night—well, he'd probably just brush it off because he thought he'd be different.

News flash: he's not different.

In attempt to rub sleep from his eyes (ironic considering he got maybe an hour), Akaashi yawns, triggering a chain reaction from his assistant. The city is bustling with talk of the latest murder—a social media personality. Twitter is blowing up with the hashtags 'rip' and 'always & forever.' Yet, hardly any of the people tweeting and saying things like: 'always in our hearts, never forget,' didn't know her personally. They knew the internet version of her, the side she showed to the world and not the side she was personally. To the world she is known as an idol—a hero to some.

But everyone has their dark secrets.

The car stops along the house's pavement, the driveway a large circle with a statue in the middle. His first thought is someone was in it for the money, maybe a robbery gone wrong. Stepping out the car, he snaps on some gloves and looks around before being handle the case file from an officer on duty, being caught up to speed.

The house is pristine except for the blood that has dried up on the tiled floor. It's a stark contrast from all the white and gold. Minimalist; he notes. Akaashi skims the file before looking at the body and watching it get zipped up into a black bag before being carried away. All that's left is half an outline and some splatter across the floor.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. Just what he needs—more nightmare fuel. But a job is a job no matter how tired he is.

"Alright, let's start at the entrances. Check the windows and doors."

———

Red. Why is there so much red? Whose breathing is that? And why is it so loud?

Your eyes finally focus on the hand outstretched in front of you, widening at the sight. A silent scream escapes past your lips and shakes your body, making you stumble backwards. The shaking hand blocks the view, forcing your eyes away from the scene. The thumping of your heart and blood in your eyes is so deafening that it makes you lightheaded. You felt sick. You were going to vomit, pushing down a gag and covering your mouth.

You look at your hands, willing them to stop shaking in tight fists before looking at the body below you. Blonde hair dyed red from the puddle. A sob wracks through you.

Heaving a heavy breath you weren't aware you were holding and gripping your phone tightly, you dial the police. Your voice shakes when speaking:

"H-help, please. She's dead! "

———

Akaashi rubs at his temple in attempt to soothe an oncoming headache, the dim yellow light at his desk straining his eyes. He looks at the file, nibbling on his lip in irritation. The pictures of the scene and the overall file and personal file just swarms his head with mixed up information and he honestly isn't sure where to start. With a soft sigh he leans back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

The case is gruesome, a red massacre. Victim was stabbed six times in the abdominal, close to gutted even, but the blunt truama to her head shows she was dead before hitting floor. The door hadn't been broken in, the wood and hinges still in place like they hadn't been shaken—perhaps she let them in. The window had been forced open from the inside, the paint that previously sealed it being chipped aggressively against the pane. It could've been some loopy stalker, but the more he looks at the case it's less likely.

His head hurts and he can't focus and it's getting late.

He begins to nipple of his thumb nail, bringing it up to his lips in deep thought. The red strings in his brain trying to connect the dots sooner than it's actually possible. He's smart, but not that smart. His eyes slowly shift to the post-it note beside the biege file, a number scribbled down messily. They had sent you home with an officer to calm down from the shock. It had been about two days now as they waited for the autopsies and inspected, but time was running short and he needed your statement before the case runs cold and slips through his fingers. He'd have to interrogate you, ask you to speak on behalf of your friend. It seems you would know the most about her and her true identity as her emergency contact. Maybe‐ hopefully, you'd help provide answers.

But he hates this part. The part where he has to call traumatized homicide victims and witnesses. He doesn't do well at comforting people, especially when he's the type to cut straight to the point. He doesn't know how to stop someone from crying (because someone always does) and he can never stop himself from saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. He's blunt and yet, he's like a double edged sword. And he knows what they feel because he's been there and he sees it every day, even if he wasn't involved directly. If it haunts him at night, then it must taunt them all day. It's a hard push to get over, and even then the wounds never really heal. Suppose that's why Akaashi keeps pushing to solve cases, even cold ones, because he knows how it feels to be hopeless with a dark mentality. Nothing else matters until the killer is at the mercy of law.

He goes back to gnawing on his abused bottom lip, leaning forward to grab the black office phone before dialing the number. He lets it ring, twice before he hears the line click and a soft, weak 'hello?' He clears his throat, picking up his pen to write down anything he may need. This isn't his first rodeo, afterall.

"Hello, is this l/n y/n? Yes, this is the detective on case. Would you mind coming in to answer a few questions about your friend, Michiko?"

—————

taglist ➣

@izzyphantomgamer @callmeignorance @kenmagi @sawasmura @kagsblueberrymilk

[x688plsloveme]

Whumptober Day No 5. Where Do You Think You’re Going?

@whumptober2020

Fallout 4 where Deacon gets captured by the Brotherhood of steel and escapes death because he knows bad puns (a little bit of crack with my whump)

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck”

The taps on the tile floor got more frantic as time went by. Deacon reached an intersection - he had to choose right or left. He didn’t have much time left, he could hear the guards getting closer and closer with each breath. He had several small cuts and bruises but the adrenaline kept him from slowing down. Without thinking, he took the right path, the only thought in him being to get as much distance between him and those footsteps as possible.

☢

He had been captured earlier that day by one of James’ patrols. Ever since Glory had been murdered, his faction had been ignoring the territory limits. Deacon had been stupid enough to try and get some intel out of them - pretending to be some random wastelander. He would’ve gotten away with it had the head paladin of the squad not seen him before at one of their respective leader’s truce meetings. He tried to charm his way out of chains, but he stood no chance against power armor. She had the decency to not knock him out at least. She just dragged him back to the airport where some soldiers brought him to the cells.

A few hours later and he heard talk of Rubi visiting to make sure everything was going according to plan. Deacon valued his life and figured he’d rather take his chances with the repercussions of escaping rather than face that crazy chick. So he talked a guard over and wasn’t surprised when the green looking kid didn’t notice him pilfering his keys. In fact he looked glad to talk to someone, so the Railroad agent used that to his advantage. He played up the injuries and complained that he hadn’t eaten or drank anything in almost a day. The kid was quick to go grab him something to eat.

This was his only chance.

He hurriedly unlocked the cell, took his gun out of the “evidence” footlocker, and started running. He started by sneaking around, seamlessly weaving his way around the meatheads that made up the Brotherhood, but within minutes, the alarm was sounding. He no longer has time to take things slow, he had to go.

It didn’t take much longer than that for soldiers to find him and they gave a good chase, but he was faster. He was used to long runs but even he started to get tired by the time he got to the intersection. They were starting to catch up so he just picked a path and prayed that it was the right one.

He was both wrong and right.

He turned once more when the hallway curved and grinned in relief when he saw a supposed unguarded door that led to the wonderful, irradiated wasteland. He had never been more happy to get a taste of that disgusting dusty air.

He pushed his aching legs to sprint faster as he got so close to freedom, he was two steps from freedom when he saw someone stand in his way. His eyes widened and he froze.

The girl in front of him smiled sickly sweet and blew bubblegum so it popped in his face. She giggled cutely and he was almost fooled by her innocent act for a moment.

She was much shorter and looked like any other bubbly teen, but he knew this girl was something much, much worse. Deacon met her eyes and gulped. There was something unnatural about them, and not in the way that her hair was pink. That was on purpose. No. Her eyes were a very uncommon blood red and sharper than any adult’s. Those eyes had seen countless people die in front of them and enjoyed the sight.

They looked like they wondered how he would look dying.

He held his breath and tried not to quiver in fear.

Rubi just laughed.

“Aw Deeks~ I heard you were visiting today, who knew you would be so polite to come greet me yourself!” She winked and lifted his head up with her mechanical hand, the flesh one flexing a sparking power fist. He supposed he had to be grateful that she didn’t use that one to touch him at least. She moved his head around like she was assessing a prize brahmin. It was demeaning, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to get out with his life.

He tried a diplomatic approach first. He cracked a nervous smile and tried very hard to relax his posture. “Yeah. Heya Rubi. Haha. Yeah so. Wanna hear a joke?” She perked up at that. Good. His intel told him that she loved jokes, especially the ones that no one else likes.

He continued, “Did you hear about the cow that jumped over the wired fence?” She shook her head back and forth, pigtails almost hitting him in the face with how close she was. They probably would’ve too if she wasn’t so short.

“It was an udder disaster.” He finished with a small chuckle of his own. She wasn’t the only one that liked unfunny jokes.

Rubi, on the other hand, was trying to not double over in laughter. She loved puns the most, curse the man in front of her. “Udder-! I-I can’t! it’s so bad it’s funny!” She steadied herself with a hand on Deacon’s arm, missing the way he tensed.

She wiped the tears off her face as she straightened herself up and looked at him. Her eyes seemed calmer now. Less stormy and more mirth filled. He breathed a sigh of relief. He might live after all.

She reached up with her metal hand to pat him on the head which didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would.

“Alright. I’ve made up my mind.” She smiled like a child who just figured out something grand. “Thanks to making me laugh, I’ll only hurt you a little bit!” She said it in such a matter of fact way, he almost missed the way she pulled her power fist back. His eyes widened. He put his hands up. “H-hold on now, I got more puns! There’s no ne-need to be so h-hasty now.” He was getting frantic again.

She just giggled and smiled up at him. “Don’t be silly, silly! You can tell me them when you’re back in your cell.”

He barely saw her fist as it connected with his chest. He didn’t know if he was screaming, but he must’ve been. The impact itself wasn’t too bad, a few broken ribs at most, but the electricity is what really knocked him down. His muscles felt like they were trying to escape his skin. They were seizing up like a full body cramp and there wasn’t anything he could do except ride it out.

Between the pain and what he assumes is the shock from it - oh look another pun tell her later - he quickly felt himself falling in and out of consciousness. He vaguely remembers getting dragged behind a very short girl with pink pigtails before being unceremoniously thrown into his cell. Someone threw water on him and he startled to alertness.

When his eyes focused on the person in front of him, he almost cursed at how creepily she was smiling at him. It wasn’t an obvious one like some other people’s he’s met in the wastes - in fact it looked almost normal - but just like everything else about her, there was something off about it. Maybe if was a bit crooked, or she was showing too much teeth. Either way it made him shiver. She looked like the canary that got the cream.

“We’ll have lots of fun together when I’m done with work so get lots of rest!” He cringed at how chipper her voice sounded when she said that.

His plan to escape had failed because of one person - one minute sooner and he would’ve been free. But here he was, stuck with no way out and at the mercy of one of the most sadistic people in the Commonwealth.

“Holy,” and he could not stress this enough, “Fuck.”

[cry-away-the-monsters]

Comes twerking into the living room while Angel has company over. "Honey, can I ASSSSK you a question?!"

She was just trying to have a nice chat with Skylar, Deacon, and Theo while the other kids played in various areas of the house. Springtrap had left the room for untold reasons and Angel figured he was planning some kind of surprise. Hearing her husband come into a room like that was the last thing she ever expected to have happen...and of course, this sends Skylar and Deacon into a wheezing fit, Michael groaning loudly in exasperation in a corner, half of the kids laughing while the others just look confused. Of course, Molten Freddy laughs his spaghetti ass off while Angel wheezes loudly, nearly spitting out her tea and doubling over, covering her now bright red face.

“S-SKYLAR, THIS IS WHY I-I DON’T GIVE HIM UUNLIMITED ACCESS TO THE I-INTERNET.”

“I REGRET NOTHING!!” Skylar emphatically wheezes, doubled over and laughing like a maniac while one half of the family suffers, the other half dying of laughter. Probably doesn’t help that Glitchtrap and Vanny are...also in the room.

“...Glitch, why are we here again?”

[risingphoenixrp]

Titus Mulciber | 24 | Slytherin | Pureblood | Deatheater | FC: Avan Jogia

Date of Birth: 1953, England

Occupation: Potions Apprentice to Rodolphus Lestrange

Ship: No Set Ship

Biography:

For many, obsessions start young. For Titus Mulciber, discovering the body of his Grandfather was the start of his. The little boy had laughed upon the discovery, thinking his grandfather was playing a trick, and his laughter continued once it became clear that Deacon Mulciber’s death was far from fake. Death was delightful to young Titus,  he saw it as something sacred instead of something to be feared. Since his first funeral, Titus began planning his own the way that many young children plan their wedding or their future. Every detail, down to what he will be wearing has been planned into oblivion. Normal parents would have worried about their small child’s obsession with death, but Illidora and Morgan Mulciber were far from normal. His father had been close with Tom Riddle during his time at school, and had married his mother with the sole purpose of breeding more children for Voldemort’s army. Out of the three sons they have, Titus is easily their favorite, and his obsession with dying and darkness was fueled along by his parents and extended family, needless to say the Sorting Hat screamed Slytherin before it had even touched the boy’s head. He quickly joined forces with the other boys in his year who were just as pure, just as reckless. Roiser and Nott among some of his closest friends, the boys who were signed on with Voldemort before birth.

As he got older, his obsession manifested itself in darker and darker ways. One of the few students who actually enjoyed History of Magic, he began researching the most gruesome deaths in Wizarding history, and he often found himself dreaming of perfecting genocide the way Grindlewald did, or punishing people the way Morganna had, never bothering finishing the end of their stories because he knew none of them were as strong as the Dark Lord was. As he went through school, he would pick random half-bloods or muggleborns and fantasize about killing them, before finally, in his 7th year, it just became too much. Mary MacDonald, as he had been saying for several years now, would make such a lovely corpse. Before bed he would picture her body sprawled out on the floor, dark black hair fanned around her last expression. He saw her one day, walking alone, and he couldn’t fight the temptation any longer. He made her scream, and he felt something inside of himself burst with joy, he had to be stopped, knocked unconscious by some fool teacher who didn’t see, didn’t understand that he was doing her a favor. Had it not been for his father’s remembrance of Slughorn’s love of crystalized pineapple, he would very likely be in a cell at the moment. He was required to stay away from Mary for the remainder of the year, and though his fantasies generally changed subject, he still dreams of killing her.  Probably due to his obsession with death, Titus is also obsessed with bondage and blood-play. He doesn’t care who is in his bed, as long as they come close to killing him. He lives for the moments where he feels he is going to die, and gets off on it because each time he doesn’t he cheats the best mistress.

Upon his graduation, Titus made his parents proud and fit quickly into the ranks of the younger Deatheaters. Voldemort rewarded his patience and his parent’s loyalty by allowed Titus to make his first kill. The face, the scream, the flash of green and the thud of the body when it hit the floor will be cemented in his mind forever, this muggle woman much more important than whomever he had lost his virginity to. For now, it has been decided learning the trade of potion making from Rodolphus Lestrange is the best use for him, but Titus knows its only a matter of time before he claims his next victim. Death has become something Titus can cause, and while he still keeps his funeral plans in the back of his mind, he plans on being the cause for many others before his own death comes.

Connections

Cassiel Avery

Maya Zabini

Regulus Black

The Carrow Twins

Rodolphus Lestrange

Mary MacDonald

Evan Rosier

Lucius Malfoy

Severus Snape

Barty Crouch Jr.

Status: Open