#i for real need to go to sleep i am becoming deranged i think

[dazais-crab-addiction]

Happy Valentine’s Day! He brought you a bear that will detonate in 5..4..3..2..

Gdlajdkahd, breadsoup you are amazing. Thank you. Being blown up by a Valentines bear has been a 10/10 experience :D

[addison-dykegomery]

& to the points you made in my other ask, yes, yes and yesss. LOVE what you said about maggie like so true. i get being territorial but the fans go past that and get viciously nasty and it negates any real criticisms. she’s my baby but im glad she’s free from the show tbh because they weren’t giving her anything to work with anyway.

and SLC forever! pls go on about puppy amelia if u want lol because on paper she’s exactly the kind of character i should live for but ive never been able to get into her? idky like even knowing her plot of private practice hasn’t helped. and i wanna get the hype i have fomo lmao

& to ur other ask where you outlined ur faves and potential ships, first of all, inspired choices love it. and second, you didn’t ask but i would add tedstina. didn’t see it for the first time but on my second watch they jumped out to me and they’ve been my main non canon ship forever. cannot believe the writers had them arguing over that man when they could’ve ditched him to go eat each other out and then cured heart disease or something. a shame lmao 3/3

i feel the same way, if you asked me to tell you what maggie did in her last 3-4 seasons on the show i would have to plead the fifth or something because i genuinely do not know 😭 but i do remember watching those seasons and being like damn i miss s11-12 maggie (the riggs drama between her and meredith was like contender for top 5 annoying things to happen on this stupid ass show and it pretty much went downhill from there)

puppy amelia... um okay 😶 well what do you wanna know 🤪

no um 😭 like ok idk i just love when characters are all "i love you please let me love you and please love me back" and the other person is like.. cold and lowkey hates them at first but reluctantly grows to love them.. and lets them sleep curled up at the foot of their bed or reaches out to pet their hair when they've had a bad day like OKAY !!!!! will never forgive the writers for forgetting about mermelia after s12 like it was genuinely the most complex, angsty, bordering on sadomasochistic relationship to ever happen on this godforsaken show okay stop I NEED TO SHUT UP NOW but like as i said . it was/is GENUINE brainrot.

(side note whenever i rewatch s12 i get this like. overwhelming instinct to protect and take care of amelia like i literally become a butch lesbian for her. my butch lesbian serve 💅)

(in particular i also think the whole "meredith forgiving amelia for being the wrong sister and the wrong shepherd" is so...... mitski washing machine heart "i know who you pretend i am".... much to consider)

ok now i will shut up frfr this is what happens when you ask me about mermelia and girl don't get me Started on addimelia because genuinely i'm Kind of deranged, but you know what, i love myself and that's all that matters ❤️

anywayyy 😋 yes you probably didn't see but shortly after posting that i went back to add tedstina because HELLO, how could i forget about tedstina (well i haven't rewatched their main seasons for a long time that's how), i don't know what those two had going on but it was definitely something homosexual. there was a man there for some reason but literallyyy cristina going on and on about how much she loves teddy (esp when you consider that her type is canonically tall and blonde *cough* izzie) and teddy being like wow cristina you're my best student you're so smart and talented and let's make out 🥰

thank you soooo much for these anons, they really make my day (even if i don't get to them immediately) and please stay in contact even though there won't be new episodes for a while <3

[pinepickled]

I posted 5,842 times in 2022

80 posts created (1%)

5,762 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@primeemeraldheiress

@shy-daredevil

@justaregulardecoratedemergency

@elmaxlys

@hater-of-terfs

I tagged 233 of my posts in 2022

#pine talks - 56 posts

#jason todd - 15 posts

#pine's asks - 13 posts

#under the red hood - 13 posts

#batman - 13 posts

#bruce wayne - 9 posts

#the red hood - 8 posts

#mystic messenger - 6 posts

#brujay - 6 posts

#jason todd meta - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 130 characters

#id be one of his funny little side characters who have a mysterious past with him who shows up every 10 chapters just to annoy him

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

GUYS

This post was just slap after slap after slap what the fuck!!! I now desperately need to learn Korean so I can experience this real time like what do you MEAN Jumin calls Zen Zen-ie and Zen has called Jumin Juminnie???

Zen refers very casually to Jumin and Jumin simply??? Does not care?? That he doesn't use honorifics??

Yoosung calls 707 Sevennie hyung... 😭 why am I crying... Seven calls Jumin Juminnie Hyung?? He refers to Jumin so affectionately but Zen is just Zen hyung...

Pls read the whole post I love it

93 notes - Posted November 28, 2022

#4

Once the time for the great evil to appear passes, and no man has been born to the Gerudo, all take a sigh of relief. The prophecy will not come to pass this go around, they think.

But there's one Gerudo, with long red hair and a veil over her face, a thin attempt to try and hide a truth no one could see anyway

She has all the parts, and no more strong is she than the average woman of her race. She's normal. Absolutely normal. A good Gerudo girl who's mind had never been touched by the miasma of Ganon.

But one day, a young blond Hylian visits. He is strong, and earns the respect of the Gerudo soldiers easily. A sword of mystic powers strapped to his back and centuries of the trees, the sky, and courage lay in his history. It's not his time yet, this good Gerudo girl knows- but she doesn't tell anyone.

This Hylian, he leaves the city. He cannot reside in the same quarters as the women, and in a town of all women this means he must sleep outside. The boy is not bothered, he sets up camp at the city walls with indifference, and for some unknown reason, the good Gerudo girl goes out to meet him.

"I've simply brought provisions, nothing more." She tells him. The Hylian doesn't speak, he never speaks, but he smiles. The mark on her hand pulses.

The Hylian invites her to sit, and out of some sort of obligation she does. She cuts up the fruit she'd brought for the Hylian, and the Hylian gives her another smile. She feels sick, in a way. The heat of the desert night persists, and as a bead of sweat trails down her back, she becomes hyper aware of herself. The jewelry on her ankles accentuating dainty legs, the elegant bow of her straight back encircled in gold, the high ponytail of red hair cascading over her shoulder. She was a good Gerudo girl.

It's summer in the Gerudo Desert. Even at night, the heat easily clears 100 degrees. The Hylian, the Hero, he strips. Casually, as though unashamed in the presence of a good Gerudo girl. She'd been told the Hylians were more prudish than her own people, but something about this one, he was wild. The deranged holiness of the forest and the skies shone in his eyes. When he prompted her, the good Gerudo girl took off her own top. Laid bare before the Hylian, he did nothing. The Hero simply sat down once more, gazing up at the stars as he accepted the cut fruit. Slowly, carefully, breathing shallow as though a sword was to her neck, she shed the loose pants cinched with gold at her waist. The Hero only glanced over, uninterested. The mark on her hand throbbed harshly, and the mark on the Hylian's hand did the same.

But that didn't matter. She was a good Gerudo girl, and the great evil hadn't been born this time around. No sin had been bred in her mind, no power she wielded more than normal.

Right?

Right.

Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, she copied the Hero's stance. Her own elegant posture was that of a good Gerudo girl, she'd trained it into herself since she was but a child. The warrior at her side had the lazy stance of a predator, as though he were a jaguar lounging over its prey. The Gerudo girl didn't want to be prey, but as she rearranged her legs and shifted her waist to copy the Hero, she couldn't help but feel as though she'd fallen into the Hylian's lap. The pleased smirk on his face could have been a figment of the Gerudo girl's imagination, and the sharp blue eyes roving over her body could have been a trick of the light.

The hero did nothing, though, and now both in the position of men, horrible, un-Gerudo-like Men, the Gerudo girl closed golden eyes and reached out. The hand with a mark identical to hers, except for the triangle on the opposite side filled instead, took hers.

She was an awful Gerudo girl.

The Hylian drew words in Gerudo script in the sand, and pointed them out to the very bad Gerudo girl.

Your name? he had asked.

The very bad Gerudo girl couldn't speak her name aloud. She would be an even worse Gerudo girl than than if she didn't say it at all. Perhaps this Hylian was wise, sticking to the ways of silence.

As though admitting to the greatest sin of all, the Gerudo girl who was perhaps not a girl at all, wrote in the sand one of her numerous secrets.

Ganondorf.

106 notes - Posted August 2, 2022

#3

Get fucking owned

109 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

#2

Honestly, Mystic Messenger deserves kudos for how unique it was. I really can't think of another dating sim with the overall vibe of MM, nothing compares. Like, the dynamics between love interests first of all isn't jam packed with cheap drama. When you read the conversations between them, you can actually believe that these people are friends and get along with each other. You can sense that they've known each other for a very long time, you sense the trust and the deep bonds more and more as you progress through the story.

Not only that, but the love interests are unique as well. Any dating sim fan can tell you all about the various tropes that our love interests embody, but I feel like MM is the only sim that actually has a unique take on them. Like yes, Jumin is the overbearing rich CEO who's into BDSM and wants to own you like he owns everything else, but going through his story you truly see a side to him that feels so gratifying to learn about in the format of MM. His conflict with his dad is unique to the core- his dad isn't abusive, not to Jumin. On the contrary, Jumin holds nothing but warm praise for his father consistently and you can tell that aside from the womanizing, they have quite a good relationship! But you see Jumin's emotions change real time, how he slowly breaks down until he can't stand it anymore. How he just needs someone to comfort and understand him in his lonely world, someone who isn't a cat or his friends that don't know how to act when Jumin's collected demeanor falls apart.

Or Zen, the classic narcissist flirt, who isn't at all. You really get to see where his narcissism comes from, how he copes with being an actor, how he learns to let down his walls and let people in all the while his sweet personality coming through.

Just. Ugh. Mystic Messenger.

383 notes - Posted November 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Back at it again to talk about just how much I hate the very concept of Jason 'giving up' on the Joker to return to the batfam.

Like, I see so many people who write meta and fics that claim that the one true solution to the current conflict between Bruce and Jason is for Jason to have a come to Jesus moment about why killing is wrong and to just accept that the Joker will continue to live, doing so for the sole reason of reconciling with Bruce. To me, it just reeks.

I cannot say this enough, but their conflict is not about whether killing is moral or not!!! That is not why Jason just cannot make up with Bruce as things are! Jason was considered one of the only comic book characters to be permanently dead for a reason, his death continues to mean something even after his resurrection for a reason!! The conflict starts in that the man who was supposed to protect him failed to and Jason DIED! The conflict continues because Jason was not avenged at all! His death was meaningless! Completely, utterly, meaningless!

The whole reason Jason goes on his murderquest in Gotham is because he saw newspaper clippings of the Joker, still alive and well, escaping Arkham! He must have thought of all the times Joker escaped while he was just a little kid, how they were constantly rounding the guy up and putting him back, watching the body count that this man has personally caused go up and up and up while they were functionally powerless to stop it. Jason himself says so, directly asking Bruce why he's let the Joker fill entire graveyards with innocent lives!

Under the Red Hood is a well thought out story. It never meant to make the case for whether murder is morally justifiable or not, that was Batman's trauma filled excuse. The reality, as outlined in samiralula01's post, is that Jason's death killed Bruce. He lost his ability to be compassionate, loving, merciful, and more. His little boy was dead. Clinging onto his belief that murder is wrong was just a means to justify to himself why Jason's death would have to go unavenged, and as a direct consequence of this delusion and trauma, which is explicitly said in UTRH, most of Batman's sidekicks have left him! Oracle, Tim, Steph, Cass, everyone except Dick! He's pushed them all away because of this crippling fear of losing them like how he lost Jason, this fear that has made him a colder, less loving man. The fear that turned him from a bringer of justice and hope into a dark shadow.

Jason is right, at the end of the day. He knows the Joker cannot be rehabilitated nor contained, he knows that Bats is just making excuses for himself, and his point of view is further justified by two events: 1, the fact that Barbara was brutalized by the Joker even after Jason died, and 2, that Bludhaven and supposedly Dick was literally NUKED right before Jason went to kill the Joker and instead of running to see if his son was okay, Batman went after Jason.

Batman chose the Joker over his kids not once, not twice, not thrice, but four times.

Jason dying and the Joker living on was the first.

Barbara being tortured to the point of disability was the second.

Dick being nuked and Bats not running to save him was the third.

and Jason having his throat slit by a batarang so Bats could save Joker was the fourth.

UTRH is the story of how Batman does not actually have a solid moral ground to stand on anymore. It displays not only what a broken and defeated man Bruce is, but also implies several times, most notably through the coffin maker's story, that even Bruce believes that Jason is right. He believes that his precious second son deserved to be avenged, not even through bureaucratic or judicial means, but through death. UTRH is a story about Batman, all alone, making huge mistake after huge mistake.

Jason asks Batman to choose: him or me. The Joker or Jason. Your kids or a villain.

Batman chooses.

The Joker puts it the best, after Batman upholds his no-killing rule for the Joker by killing Jason.

"You managed to find a way to win... and everybody still loses!"

717 notes - Posted June 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[scarletttext]

Every night you dream that you talk to a genie, when you wake up you can't remember what you wished for. One morning you wake up with a giant crab pincer replacing your right arm. What do you do?

* alright, this prompt arrived in my inbox completely out of the blue, but I'll run with it! Just a little drabble!*

I wake up, slighty disoriented, with the remnants of a deranged smile on my mind. Like always, since I started to have these dreams years ago, I dreamt of a genie. Tall, long white beard, eyes who crinkled when he smiles. He was a major pain in the ass most of the time.

Ever since he appeared, I tried to make wishes, none ever came to fruition, so I started to treat it as a joke, thinking it would never come true. We even laughed together, he became sort of a friend, even if he drove me crazy sometimes, time passed and I begun to forget the wishes once I woke up. Which is why I am very baffled right now, looking at where my right arm should be and seeing a giant black crab pincer in its place.

I try to move it and, sure enough, it is true, it moves just as my arm should. I squint my eyes, cursing that blasted genie in all the languages I know.

*a few days later*

The damned genie didn't appear in my dreams for the past 3 nights, and by now, I'm becoming increasingly pissed off. Seriously, of all the wishes I made, he picked this one to make true? And again, where the hell did he come from? I have no lamps in my house, I've never even believed in magic!

Although I must admit, the crab pincer does look cool, and it is, impressively, as sensitive as my real hand and arm were, although much sturdier. It is sharp too, which made me unwittingly cut through some stuff before realizing.

I still don't understand why this was the wish I was granted, especially since the limb I always complained about is my left leg, and I had previously wished for a mechanical one.

The pressing issue, though, is that, since I woke up with this weird limb, I've been feeling a pressing need to go into the woods, and I fear that that blasted genie is gonna turn me into a real crab next.

"At least I'm not walking sideways", I mutter to the empty room before laying in my bed to sleep.

BANG

I wake up with a start and jump from the bed, faceplanting in the hardwood floor. I hear an all too familiar laugh, and my blood boils. I get up faster than I knew I could move, and have my pincer arm locking the damned genie to the wall.

"You motherfucking asshole! What did you do to me? You have the courage to finally show yourself out of my dreams after what you did?", I yell in his face. Watching the crinkles by his eyes with his mischievous smile.

"Oh C'mon, you wouldn't have believed me otherwise"

I squint and use my pincer to make more pressure on his neck -cool thing about this pincer: it is stronger than I am. Now the genie looks sort of nervous.

"Hey buddy, don't need to become so pressed, I just came to tell you you're the new genie"

I look at him, unimpressed, but, in the blink of an eye, I hear a crackle and he is on the other side of the room, by the window.

"Now if you just follow the light into the woods, you'll find the lamp" he says and disappears.

.

.

. okay I'm only writing 'till here, I'm out *kisses*

[edenmemes]

misc poetry sentence starters

❝  one gets so used to one’s own horrors, one forgets how they must seem to other people.  ❞ ❝  you remind me what love lives in this skin.  ❞ ❝  you are the most phantom-like of all; you are a mere dream.  ❞ ❝  i’m not telling you a story so much as a shipwreck—the places floating, finally legible.  ❞ ❝  the world was made so we can find each other in it.  ❞ ❝  the night isn’t dark; the world is dark. stay with me a little longer.  ❞ ❝  i want you desperately. i want your strength and your softness, your hands, all of you.  ❞ ❝  is that too much to expect? that i would name the stars for you?  ❞ ❝  against your cheek my hand is warm and full of tenderness.  ❞ ❝  the world grows green again when you smile.  ❞ ❝  your share of pains would fill a sea.  ❞ ❝  i’m so stuck on the ‘was’ of people.  ❞ ❝  what i love in you is your power of loving, a bit wild, a bit primitive, but absolute.  ❞ ❝  i like figuring you out. you are so human and puzzling.  ❞ ❝  the unwillingness to try is worse than any failure.  ❞ ❝  you wanted happiness. i can’t blame you for that.  ❞ ❝  i did violence to my own heart.  ❞ ❝  i don’t know how to stay tender with this much blood in my mouth.  ❞ ❝  like a magpie, i am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales and dead languages.  ❞ ❝  and here you come with a shield for a heart and a sword for a tongue.  ❞ ❝  you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry.    only the sun has come this close, only the sun.  ❞ ❝  sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof you’ve been ruined.  ❞ ❝  when will it cease, this monstrous rage of yours?  ❞ ❝  i will plant my hands in the garden. i will grow, i know, i know.  ❞ ❝  i had it all and i want it back again.  ❞ ❝  i don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.  ❞ ❝  we are two reflections that cross swords with each other.  ❞ ❝  as for me, i am a watercolour. i wash off.  ❞ ❝  do you dare send me away as though you were were waiting for something better?  ❞ ❝  my dear, you are in danger of being burned by your own flame.  ❞ ❝  i am three oceans away from my soul.  ❞ ❝  you, occasionally, glimmer with a light i’ve never seen before. it frightens me.  ❞ ❝  i went to sleep last night so i could see you.  ❞ ❝  even the eyes of gods must adjust to light. even gods have gods.  ❞ ❝  how much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it’s some kind of murder?  ❞ ❝  it does me no good to be good to me now.  ❞ ❝  i may look alright, but if you were to look more closely you wouldn’t find a single healthy bit in me.  ❞ ❝  i must clothe myself in other worlds.  ❞ ❝  suffering is the privilege of those who feel.  ❞ ❝  sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine.  ❞ ❝  the vigor, the fire, that enables you to love and create. when you lose that, you’ve lost everything.  ❞ ❝  i can be bold, because i have you with me always.  ❞ ❝  you are shaking fists and trembling teeth. i know: you did not mean to be cruel. that does not mean you were kind.  ❞ ❝  not that i want to be a god or a hero, just to change into a tree,  grow for ages, not hurt anyone.  ❞ ❝  i laughed today. for a second i was unhaunted.  ❞ ❝  you are sunlight through a window, which i stand in, warmed.  ❞ ❝  there’s something electric in your blood.  ❞ ❝  you say you are broken,   but broken mirrors like you create the most beautiful patterns of light.  ❞ ❝  time doesn’t obey our commands.  ❞ ❝  i love you quite passionately, and with a touch of tragedy.  ❞ ❝  to feel anything deranges you. to be seen feeling anything strips you naked.  ❞ ❝  i love you --- like a storm bursts overhead --- i must confess it; all the more fiercely because you burn and bite.  ❞ ❝  and i have seen rivers, not unlike you, that failed to find their way back.  ❞ ❝  i am less a god now that you’ve touched me.  ❞ ❝  your words are gentle; but my blood runs cold to think what plots you may be nursing deep within your heart.  ❞ ❝  you said i killed you --- haunt me then.  ❞ ❝  your soul is frail and solemn, loyal and spring-like.  ❞ ❝  you look like you’ve eaten the sun, like you drank so much sunlight you’re drowning in it.  ❞ ❝  strangeness is a necessary ingredient in beauty.  ❞ ❝  you will hear thunder and remember me.  ❞ ❝  ever think it’s possible for us to be happy?  ❞ ❝  and i would wonder across all the deserts of this world, even after death, to search for you.  ❞ ❝  since we’re bound to be something, why not together?  ❞ ❝  i am ashes were once i was fire.  ❞ ❝  this mouth will destroy you the moment you mistake it for something soft, for something that is yours.  ❞ ❝  it’s no easy thing to bear, the weight of sweetness.  ❞ ❝  kill the light! i’d rather wallow in the dark.  ❞ ❝  i have thought of you often since the darkness.  ❞ ❝  with your presence the sun becomes irrelevant.  ❞ ❝  there is no god left in this skin. there’s just the ash. just the ash.  ❞ ❝  open your eyes, look more sharply, see me as i am.  ❞ ❝  what the hell is tragedy? i am.  ❞ ❝  i’ve got a lot of feeling for you. you’re kind.  ❞ ❝  how beautiful it is, how beautiful, that glow before the stars break.  ❞ ❝  so much to do today: kill memory, kill pain, turn heart into a stone, and yet prepare to live again.  ❞ ❝  i am myself. that is not enough.  ❞ ❝  i may be mad, god-seized, but i will stand outside my madness.  ❞ ❝  my power, which to me is still a curse ---  ❞ ❝  ocean sea with its caressing swell; it has so often cooled my heart.  ❞ ❝  do you bathe in perfume, and dry yourself in light?  ❞ ❝  i like you; your eyes are full of language.  ❞ ❝  let me tell you what i do know.    i am more than one thing and not all of those things are good.  ❞ ❝  you are the cause and the cure --- both.  ❞ ❝  i have kisses for the back of your neck.  ❞ ❝  your beautiful glance is unbearably cruel.  ❞ ❝  we might meet again, someday between dreams at dawn.  ❞ ❝  suffering is a terrible fire; it either purifies or destroys.  ❞ ❝  lately it hurts more to imagine you are a stranger rather than a destroyer.  ❞ ❝  and i say to myself: a moon will rise from my darkness.  ❞ ❝  since you walked out on me, i’m getting lovelier by the hour. i glow like a corpse in the dark.  ❞ ❝  i will not whine. i will obey and be forever still.  ❞ ❝  you move like the moon.  ❞ ❝  my eyes ache with the weight of unshed tears.  ❞ ❝  in your eyes, the fires of twilight.  ❞ ❝  do not haunt my soul; i have done well forgetting you.  ❞ ❝  i am no one. i cannot love. it’s in my blood.  ❞ ❝  you’re wearing your armor to protect your heart. who can blame you? it only makes sense in a world like this one.  ❞ ❝  you are not real. you are a dream of a dream.  ❞ ❝  there are so many things i’m not allowed to tell you.  ❞ ❝  i am indeed a shameless, evil-minded and abominable creature.  ❞ ❝  come this evening --- i am eager for stars.  ❞ ❝  i am on fire with that soft sound you make, in uttering my name.  ❞ ❝  i want you mostly in the morning when my soul is weak from dreaming.  ❞ ❝  to me you are the desert and the sea; everything secretive.  ❞ ❝  i thought i was wounded to the core but i was only bruised.  ❞ ❝  it is a dead heart. it is inside of me. it is a stranger.  ❞ ❝  i live --- but i’m mutilated.  ❞ ❝  if there is a light then i am going to swallow it.    if there is a god then i’m going to make him cry.  ❞ ❝  i am condemned to be a saint or a monster: unable to be the one, unwilling to be the other.  ❞ ❝  you will open your wounds and make them a garden.  ❞ ❝  i come home --- and i feel like a ghost returning its haunt.  ❞ ❝  i planted roses, but without you they were thorns.  ❞ ❝  everything inside me is in revolt.  ❞ ❝  how this darkness soaks me through and through.  ❞ ❝  give me my robe, put on my crown; i have immortal longings in me.  ❞ ❝  say something dangerous like i love you.  ❞ ❝  listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?  ❞ ❝  in times of crisis, we must decide again and again whom we love.  ❞ ❝  breathe the scent of little, earthly things. let the twilight touch you.  ❞ ❝  my heart is just like the ocean, has storm and calm and tides.  ❞ ❝  you became for me a sacred being, not to be touched save in adoring thoughts.  ❞ ❝  gods are stubborn. so am i.  ❞ ❝  is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?  ❞ ❝  there’s something soft in me. i killed it and it’s rotting.  ❞ ❝  beware. beware. there is a tenderness.  ❞ ❝  half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers. real gods require blood.  ❞ ❝  i’m alive. like a wound, a flower in the flesh, the path of aching blood is open within me.  ❞ ❝  you dangle on the leash of your own longing; your need grows teeth.  ❞ ❝  i have it in me...to scare myself with my own desert places.  ❞ ❝  my mouth still houses century-old magic.     in my ears i hear a ringing and singing and no god.  ❞ ❝  keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice.  ❞ ❝  i’m full of poetry now. rot and poetry. rotten poetry.  ❞ ❝  this skin is sick with loneliness.  ❞ ❝  memories are sharp. they bite. i have spent most of my life trying to grow a thicker skin just to make sure i would not bleed out whenever i felt those teeth scrape up against me.  ❞ ❝  i wonder if i will ever find a language to speak of the things that haunt me the most.  ❞ ❝  after fury, what do you do with the remains?  ❞ ❝  come on, dance with me. the earth is spinning. we can’t just stand on it.  ❞ ❝  let’s admit, without apology, what we do together.  ❞ ❝  try to find the right place for yourself. if you can’t find it, at least dream of it.  ❞ ❝  it takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations.  ❞ ❝  i am too full of life to be half-loved.  ❞ ❝  today you want nothing because wanting comes too close to feeling.  ❞ ❝  there’s nothing more terrible, more alluring, more mysterious than love.  ❞ ❝  heavenly wine and roses seem to whisper to me when you smile.  ❞ ❝  my soul is devoutly and wholly under your spell.  ❞ ❝  will you see the human in my being?  ❞ ❝  if i had a flower for every time i thought of you…i could walk through my garden forever.  ❞ ❝  part broken part whole, you begin again.  ❞ ❝  i don’t know if love’s a feeling. sometimes i think it’s a matter of seeing. seeing you.  ❞ ❝  i wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness?  ❞ ❝  whether you come as a lover or an exeutioner, i am ready to receive you.  ❞ ❝  i think i understand your longing. it looks so much like mine.  ❞ ❝  i’ve had so many knives stuck into me. when they hand me a flower, i can’t quite make out what it is.  ❞ ❝  i like the sea: we understand one another. it is always yearning, sighing for something it cannot have; so am i.  ❞ ❝  do i not live? badly, i know, but i live.  ❞ ❝  something of you stuck with me. a splinter.  ❞ ❝  i clung to your hands so that something human might exist in the chaos.  ❞ ❝  sometimes i shut my eyes, and shut my heart towards you, and try hard to forget you because you grieve me so, but you’ll never go away. oh you never will.  ❞ ❝  my golden love, if only you knew, what precious honey you are for me.  ❞ ❝  i had an old wound once, but it is healing.  ❞ ❝  always this in-betweenness, this almost, this it might be that...  ❞ ❝  when i close my eyes, i see you. when i open my eyes i want to see you.  ❞ ❝  dark as it is --- you see, that little flickering, is the light of my soul.  ❞ ❝  am i a monster or is this what it means to be a person?  ❞ ❝  i am talking about evil. it blooms. it eats. it grins.  ❞ ❝  sapphires are those eyes of yours, ravishingly sweet.  ❞

[melzula]

The Beginning of the End

pairing: Zuko x Princess! reader

warnings: angst, mentions of death, fluff

summary: in which the Princess learns what became of her father and turns to Zuko for comfort (requested by anon)

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

“Y/n,” your mother calls gently from your doorway. “The ships are leaving, come say goodbye to your father.”

“No.”

“Princess, he’s your father,” she chides gently. “I know you have your differences-“

“Differences?! He forbid me from water bending and he forbid me from ever seeing Zuko again!”

“Little otter penguin, try to understand that your father only has your best interests at heart. He loves you, and if you don’t say goodbye you’re going to regret it.”

“I won’t regret anything,” you insist stubbornly. “Besides, there’s no point in saying goodbye when we both know he’s going to come back.”

The White Lotus campsite is relatively quiet despite the number of members it inhabits, most of them gifting you friendly smiles or passing glances of acknowledgement as you weave through the tents in search of any familiar faces. With Aang having disappeared, you’re only hope in defeating the Fire Lord now rests upon Iroh, hence your group’s presence on the campgrounds. Zuko has left in search of his Uncle, and though you wished to see the kind old man again after having been apart for so long you knew it was something the prince had to do on his own. Besides, you had your own questions that needed answering and didn’t have much time to waste as you sought after any water tribe member who might have information on the whereabouts of your father.

Your search efforts are halted by the hand that rests itself firmly upon your shoulders, and though your first instinct is to pull the water from the air around you in preparation for a fight you’re quick to relax as you see it’s none other than Pakku. An apologetic smile forms on your features as you grant the old man and longtime family friend a tight hug.

“The last time I saw you you were barely learning how to walk, and now here you are pulling water out of thin air like a true bending master,” he comments with a laugh. “It’s good to see you again, y/n.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” you reply with a watery smile before pulling out of the hug to look at the man before you. Your grandfather and Pakku had been good friends in their younger days, and before the war he had often visited to teach water bending to the boys in your tribe, but then your grandfather had died and Pakku stopped coming. It was comforting to see a familiar face, but you were starting to dread the truth that would come with your question. What if it wasn’t what you wanted to hear?

“You’re troubled,” he says carefully, “what can I do to help?”

“My father... Have you heard what’s become of him? Is he back home in the south?”

Pakku’s eyes soften then, sympathetic and remorseful, but he doesn’t answer your question, not right away. Instead he guides you towards your tent and takes you inside to discuss the matter privately. Once you’ve seated yourself on the ground Pakku reaches into his robe and pulls out a familiar item from his sleeve.

“Do you recognize this?”

“Father’s tiger shark tooth necklace,” you murmur quietly as Pakku places the piece of jewelry into your open palm. The tooth is jagged and sharp though worn around the edges from the many years it’s spent hanging from your father’s neck; it was a good luck charm given to him by your mother when they were younger, and he never went anywhere without it. “But I don’t understand...”

It’s the way in which Pakku refuses to meet your gaze that you finally understand, tears beginning to well in your eyes as you clutch the necklace tightly to your chest.

“No...”

“I’m so sorry you had to find out this way,” the man offers weekly before handing you a paper scroll. “Everything you need to know is in this letter. I’ll give you the privacy you need to read it for yourself.”

He leaves you alone to mourn in piece, and despite how desperate you are to know the last words of your father you can’t bring yourself to open the letter. Opening it makes it real, and you don’t think you can face his death. Not now, not when your friends are counting on you to be at your strongest for the arrival of the comet. Your heart is beating rapidly in your ribcage and your vision is blurry with your tears, and this time when a gentle hand rests itself upon your shoulder you collapse against the owner’s chest. Strong arms wrap around your trembling figure and encompass you in a comfortingly familiar warmth as you weep into their chest.

“Pakku sent me,” Zuko utters quietly into your hair. “What is it?”

“My father,” you whisper into the fabric of his robes, “he’s dead. He’s gone and I never even said goodbye.”

“I’m so sorry, Princess,” Zuko comforts gently. “I can’t even imagine what you must be going through right now. Is there any way I can help?”

“There’s a letter,” you sniffle as you pull away from Zuko to wipe away your freshly fallen tears. “I can’t bring myself to read it but I need to know what it says. Would you... would you read it to me?”

“O-Of course,” he replies quickly before scrambling to open the letter as you situate yourself to sit in between his legs with your back resting against his chest. With his arms around your waist and the letter held in front of the two of you, Zuko’s gentle voice slowly begins to morph into that of your father’s as you shut your eyes and listen.

“Princess,

I don’t have much time left on this earth, and I know the chances of seeing you again before my time is up are slim, so I’ve taken to writing this letter in hopes that all of your questions will be answered when I’m gone. I’ve been badly wounded in battle and with no healers available it will only be a matter of time before I pass on from this life to the next. But know that I am sorry. I’m sorry for making you become someone you weren’t, for forcing you to change when you didn’t want to, and for not being open enough to listen to your needs. I was blinded by my anger with the Fire Lord and I took it out on you and that poor boy. Love is a complicated thing, you cannot choose or help who you fall in love with, and perhaps if I had remember that then I wouldn’t have forced you to run away.

We all have a destiny in life and leaving was part of yours. There’s a greater world out there for you to explore; a good leader requires knowledge, and as future leader of the Southern Water Tribe it is your duty to obtain it. Learn to love, learn to be brave, learn to be kind, and learn to be forgiving. We didn’t get to say goodbye and that’s alright, we’ll have our time together again in the next life, so don’t let this slow you down. I know you’re going to do great things, my sweet daughter. I’ll always be with you in spirit, and you’ll always have my support. It is an honor to be your father, my brave little water bender.

It’s all up to you now. With love, your father Tukon.”

The air is silent as your father’s voice fades away and all that is left behind is the sound of your quiet sniffling and Zuko’s gentle breathing. You want to cry but for some reason the tears don’t come, and instead being filled with devastating loss and regret you are filled with a small warmth that fills your heart with love and appreciation. Your father is with you now, you can feel it, and in this moment that is enough.

“Thank you,” you murmur quietly, showing your gratitude to both your father and Zuko as he holds you close to his chest in the safety of your tent.

~~~

You wake to the smell of freshly cooked porridge, a smiling Zuko sitting beside your bed as he holds the bowl of breakfast in his hands to maintain its warmth while you rise.

“Good morning,” his raspy voice greets you. “How are you feeling?”

Memories from the previous night flood back to you all at once, and your boyfriend doesn’t miss the way in which you immediately reach up to clasp the tiger shark tooth hanging from your neck tightly in your hand. Tears begin to well in your eyes but you manage to keep them at bay, instead choosing to look upon Zuko with a fragile smile.

“I’ll be okay.”

“Did you sleep okay? I had Suki look after you while you slept so I could speak with my Uncle.”

“How is he?” You ask, features perking up with interest. A small smile forms on Zuko’s lips as he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“He’s fine, and we’re okay. He’s eager to see you again. But you need to eat first, we all have a big day ahead of us,” Zuko instructs before handing you your breakfast. “Uncle says I need to reclaim the throne, and to do that I have to face off against Azula. But I can’t do it alone, so I’d like you and Katara to join me.”

It’s silent for a moment as you digest both the yummy porridge and the information Zuko has bestowed upon you. You had a feeling this day would come, and despite the apprehension you hold when it comes to fighting his deranged sister you know there’s no other option.

Your father’s words echo in your head: “Learn to be brave.” A beat passes before you finally nod.

“I’ve been wanting to put her in her place ever since she beheaded my favorite doll,” you admit with a wry smile. “I’d be honored to help you.”

“Get dressed,” Zuko says then, rising from his place beside your bed to give you the space you need to prepare. We leave in ten minutes.”

And so begins the end of the war.

| tags: @rainteslerrrr @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @coldlilheart @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @zukh03s @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @djskfkdkkf @xapham @yeetletzgetitjae @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal |

[blueskiesandstarrynights]

Willex TGWDLM scene

So this is for @oh-were-califormia who came up with a genius idea for a willex TGWDLM au, and I decided to try my hand at one scene. Yes, I will in fact bend over backwards to include the Hotdog nickname, and yeah maybe I did make Nick HCB, what of it? I have no idea why I did it, but  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Word count: 1082

Okay.

Okay, okay, okay, okay.

Okay, okay

Okay.

This isn’t happening.

This isn’t real.

Alex tries to repeat this to himself now that he is a safe few blocks from the CCRP building, now pacing in a nervous circle thinking about what just happened.

Or what didn’t happen. 

Because this isn’t happening, this isn’t real, how could this be real?

He’s dreaming, or hallucinating or something. There’s no way Mr. Davidson actually started singing about how he wanted to-

Nope, gonna cut himself off right there, definitely don’t want to be thinking about that.

Okay, okay, this is a dream.

He needs to wake up.

He needs some coffee.

Yeah, that’s it, just a cup of boring, black, strong coffee to wake him up.

With a plan in motion, Alex sets off to Beanies, and tries to think about the weird things that had happened that day.

Flash mob wasn’t a bad idea, like Luke had suggested earlier, but the lack of backing music was unnerving to him, and whatever happened with Mr. Davidson was definitely not a flash mob. 

When he rounded the corner to the street Beanies lay on, he picked up his pace to a sprint, burst through the door, slammed his hand on the counter and yelled, “HELLO? HELLO?? PLEASE GOD I JUST WANT A BLACK COFFEE!!” 

Alex is fully ready to admit that this is not his proudest moment. Between the running and the yelling, and the slamming the counter, he probably looked like a crazed idiot.

Unfortunately, the barista that comes out from behind the counter is singing.

~~~

Willie was not having a good day. For a number of reasons. The screaming customer who just walked in was in no way helping his mood. But, he really should get out there before Fuego starts yelling at him again. He grabs the coffee pot, turns on his customer service face, and starts singing. 

“Black coffee, I’m your coffee-”

“NOOOO! No, not you too Willie please, god, stop singing!”

The barista paused his singing and shot the screaming customer a confused look before recognizing who it was screaming and started smiling. It was Alex, the cute businessman who was a frequent customer, but had only gotten his name yesterday, having frequently only called him Hotdog in his head for weeks now.

A few weeks ago, at their slowest hour, when the only one’s there were himself and some blond kid who drank way too many hot chocolates, a cute businessman had walked in, went straight for the counter, and, through gritted teeth, ordered, “three hotdogs, and a veggie burger.”

Needless to say, he was a little shocked by the request, and had opened and closed his mouth in confusion a couple times before answering, “I’m sorry sir, this is a coffee shop, we don’t sell that here.”

Once again through gritted teeth, the businessman said, “Oh, sorry, I thought you sold things like that here.” and then left. 

Willie ended up spending the next few minutes standing there staring blankly at the wall trying to figure out what just happened. 

The next day, the same businessman was back. He apologized for what happened the day before, explaining he had lost a bet and his friends had told him to go in and say that, and how they were very serious about bets and deals. He apologized once more before a brief bit of awkward silence followed by an even more awkward exit, and from that day, Willie had been calling the strange blond businessman, Hotdog. 

Back in the present, Willie noticed Alex’s urgency and said, “Ok, ok alright I’ll stop singing. Oh, I didn’t forget, you’re the guy who doesn’t like musicals, Alex right?”

Alex gave a short nod before saying, “Willie, you’re talking to me. Like a normal person.”

Willie rolled his eyes, unsure what to do about the kind of crazed look and on edge vibe he got from Alex. “Yeah, and if my boss catches me I’ll get canned. New company policy, not only do we have to sing when people tip, but when they enter, when they order, all the time apparently!”

Alex, still on edge, spits out, “Willie, I think there’s something horribly wrong with the world today.”

Willie gave a short, sarcastic laugh before starting on Alex’s coffee and saying, “Yeah, tell me about it. Dante and Fuego called me in at like 5 am to learn this horrible new tip song, I’m exhausted. I’m just hoping to make it to the end of my shift at 1 and then just sleep for the rest of the day. Also, I don’t know if this is more weird or annoying, but when they weren’t practicing the song, they were talking in perfect sync. I’d probably be more unnerved if I wasn’t half asleep right now. Honestly, I would’ve left this job months ago if I didn’t need the money for community college.”

As Willie finished the coffee and went to hand it to Alex, the latter grabbed his hand and pulled him from behind the counter and across the coffeeshop, before gripping his shoulders and saying, “Ok, Willie, I feel like there’s something sinister, infecting Hatchetfield. And I know this is going to sound crazy. And not very scary. But it is scary if you think about the implications. Promise me you’ll think about the implications.” With each word he said, Alex got more and more desperate, and Willie got more and more worried.

“Ok, ok, I promise.”

“Ok, Willie, I think the world is becoming… a musical.”

Oh no. That did it. We’re officially in crazy territory, and Willie was ready to head back to the counter, which is something he never thought he’d say.

“Um-” he starts, trying to find an excuse to get back.

“Don’t say anything!” Alex interrupted. “Let it sink in.”

“Ok.”

“Now,” Alex grips Willie’s shoulders. “Are you frightened??”

Oh he’s certainly frightened now. Alex has gone straight into deranged territory, unfortunately. It figures really. The first cute guy he’s met since Guatemala is certifiably crazy. And he just got his name, too. 

“Yeah, I think I am starting to get a little frightened.”

 “You should be, you should be.”

At that moment, the tip bell rang, and Dante and Fuego stepped out and called in unison, “Willie! Tip!”

Ah. Save by the bell. Thank god. 

“Oh. Alex, I gotta do this dumb tip song, sorry!” 

So, he hurried off, not knowing just how right Alex is.

[trashahime]

This is the second part of my evidence for my illusion/unreality theory. I changed it to a Q&A format. There will be a few more parts. I know a lot of you were mostly interested in why the parents are playing the villians but I wanted to explain a few things first. It will be next.

You probably will want to read the first part before continuing:

I decided "unreality" is a better way of presenting the situation so I will use that for now on.

What is meant by "unreality"?

Possibly pure illusion or a dream. Or something like the Matrix. A shared reality only existing in the minds connected to it.

Maybe the girls are actually in "reality" and it's simply a case of some of the other characters being illusioned to look different.

Or maybe a combination. As I said in the first part, Sunrise has hinted at the idea of miniature models with pictures and merchandise. Maybe they are in a minature world created by magic but one actually existing in the real world. Like in the Inuyasha episode with the corrupted sages and human faced fruit.

Why are the girls in an unreality?

In an interview, a Sunrise employee said "if you think it's a trial, then it's a trial." This fits with some general themes I have seen in Yashahime. I think Sesshomaru put his twins in the unreality to test them. The reason for the test I can only speculate about. At the moment, I think it's to prove themselves worthy of taking over as the Inu no Taisho, the position Treekyo said he abandoned.

Why is Moroha in there? Maybe she volunteered to provide support for the twins. Or as a descendant of Toga, maybe she is up for the Inu No Taisho position too.

What's happened in "reality"?

First, I think the story we are seeing in Yashahime is a reflection of what really occurred to the OG crew, including the perils and Rin's story. Think of it as if Yashahime is TV show loosely inspired by true events.

I think the girls were temporarily separated from their parents but never lost their memories of them. More on that later.

I think Kirinmaru really exists but was not a villian. I think he lost control of the real Perils and Sesshomaru, Inuyasha and the rest helped him defeat them. I think a clue to them not being the real Perils is in how they look a little different than what is shown in Myoga's explanation flashback. Those were the real Perils.

I think Rin was attacked/possessed by some kind of evil spirit/demon and possibly corrupted. In the unreality, I believe it will be a yukionna that is the culprit, it may be different in reality. I think she was put in stasis by Sesshomaru until she could be healed. Part of that healing included Sesshomaru sacrificing his sleep for her. I think a clue to that is in the "sleeping" merch where both Sesshomaru and Setsuna are awake. I think Rin was only in stasis for a short period of time.

At the moment, I think Kagura is the mom. I go back and forth as to whether her existence in reality is due to a changed timeline or resurrection. If a timeline change, this reality could be reflected in the unreality by the presence of demons who died in Inuyasha.

Rather than Towa being flung into the future because of a fire, I think she, Setsuna, Moroha and Takechiyo (who I think is InuKag's son) were sent to the Higurashis on purpose via the rainbow corridor while the parents fought the perils. A hint may be in the dream sequence where InuKag is at a shrine courtyard sending Moroha away.

Relatedly, in promotional material, Sunrise hounded on the fact that the girls would be traveling between the present and past but that hasn't really occurred. They also go on about how all three girls are of both eras. I think they are, in reality. In my Reiwa theory I suggest the modern era has become a peaceful time when demons and humans live openly together in peace. I think both sesskagu and InuKag families actually moved to the present because of that but often visit their friends in the past. Besides Sunrise's statements, there's also Setsuna's violin skills, and she seemed to know what a kilo was. Relatedly, Moroha knew what to get when doing modern day shopping and had apparent ease in doing so. I think their memories have been suppressed for the unreality but they still have residual knowledge. Also, Moroha wondered if she was weak because she went through the rainbow corridor, suggesting she had been through it before. I also think the Higurashi's lackluster reaction to Moroha was a hint. They weren't excited because they were already reunited with her. It's also been pointed out by others that a girl in Towa's class looks remarkably like Moroha.

How is reality being reflected in the unreality?

Besides some of the above, in general, I think Yashahime is using parallels and metaphors in the unreality to tell the viewers what happened to the happened to the old crew in reality, including the story of the twins's parents. Some of which we know but a lot that we don't. We will learn the new information through the battles and also through the stories of the side characters they meet.

I think the fact that so many of villians are based on Inuyasha villians may serve multiple purposes. One is a hint to express that just the battles with the old villians are altered copies from reality, so are the ones with the Perils and other new villians. Another could be to express the idea that there was a timeline change and it caused demons to live that should be dead. If so, it could be leading up to showing through a parallel how Kagura is alive.

One specific example of how they used a parallel to provide new information could be the drifting pond episode. I think the lake being pure, then corrupted, then made pure again via medicinal herbs is a reflection of Rin was ultimately healed.

The next part should be up soon. Please feel free leave a note, ask or message if you want more info on a particular part or need something clarified.

Here's a link to my theory about how the perils can be connected to the parents. I need to update it as more info has come to light.

[sophiamcdougall]

EXPLAINING SANREMO

(PART TWO) I am back. I have barely eaten or slept and Tumblr has tried to murder me and this post multiple times, but I have survived. Thank you for your patience.

Part One of my attempt to explain the seismic experience that is 2020 Sanremo Festival of Italian Song is here. 

Ready? I assure you, you are not, but let’s proceed. So Sanremo rages pitilessly on.  Now everyone knows what’s at stake, and everyone, including your humble recapper, is exhausted, but doing the gay/chaotic best they can.

As the final battle to save Amadeus, Rancore, Italy and THE WORLD approaches, Achille Lauro has a last message for the troops. And I’m not deducing this, he literally said it on Twitter. 

...Hold me I’m scared.

Meanwhile (sort of) (go with it) (time isn’t real at Sanremo)  a minor drama  has occurred offstage. Singer Tiziano Ferro made an ill-advised joke about Fiorello’s interminable comedy bits, some idiots on Twitter ran away with it, and poor Fiorello was upset! This is minuscule in Sanremo terms. But consider the flapping of a butterfly’s wings. Consider hurricanes. But who is Tiziano Ferro?

Hold on. We’ll get to it. For now ...

Fiorello is dancing seductively for an absolutely delighted Amadeus while dressed as a rabbit. And wearing a blonde wig. Is there a rational explanation for this? I mean, sort of. But also no.

And then he worries Amadeus might give him herpes, which causes Amadeus to freaking snap.

“No, no!” yells the mercurial Fiorello. Amadeus isn’t worthy of his kisses yet. He ricochets out of Amadeus’s arms and into the audience and “passes on” the kiss to a guy in the front row. 

“Incredible things are going to happen tonight!” yells Amadeus, who has no fucking idea. ”Beautiful things,” corrects Fiorello. 

But just because Fiorello is a mayhem elemental on a mission of love doesn’t mean he hasn’t got feelings. 

Enter Italy’s sweetheart, Tiziano Ferro.

Actually, Tiziano’s been there all along. He’s the specialest of special guests, singing through basically his entire back catalogue every night. Which why it really was unfair of him to pick on Fiorello --   it’s not his fault he’s literally got to stand there and babble nonsense for aeons on end, Tiziano! He’s just serving the hungry chthonic entity that is Sanremo, same as you.  

While the gay mayhem (the gayhem, if you will) surges around him, Tiziano  has been fighting the good gay fight in his own steadfast way, so far untouched. His mere presence is a message of hope in itself, he knows this, and is determined to make it count. Ten years ago he was closeted, convinced coming out would end his career, and suicidal. Now happily married and gloriously successful, he is here to demonstrate that “it gets better”. He radiates such wholesome joy and resilience that everyone loves him.

So anyway, Tiziano didn’t mean to hurt anybody because he would never, and now he wants to make things right. So will Fiorello forgive him?

Ah, what better gesture of reconciliation than to goofily sing a  love song written by Fiorello himself. Of course Fiorello forgives Tiziano, because Fiorello loves everyone, good and bad, (after all he loves Amadeus the most). But he is also a chaos being, and he is working harder than anyone else to channel the divine madness of this deranged Sanremo Festival into anyone who gets close. Tiziano, watch out!

Seems TIziano naively thought he could lean in for a staged, nearly kiss, but  Fiorello’s very soul is antithetical to “nearly” anything.

“My husband’s going to divorce me!”  wails poor Tiziano, but Fiorello has never felt so alive. This is Sanremo, bitches. Rules like “sixty-year-old men can’t be danger twinks, Fiorello,” have ceased to apply. He is an apostle of Achille Lauro, he has accepted the sermon of Benigni into his heart: it is time for PHYSICAL LOVE. While not quite ready (yet) to fuck everyone in the orchestra pit, he is throbbing with readiness, to frolic all over the theatre giving all the guys he can get his hands on THE KISSES OF HIS MOUTH.

Naturally this sparks further firestorms of chaos. “Do it again!” begs grizzled rocker and high-ranking competitor Piero Pelù. Electrified by the touch of Fiorello’s lips, he is later to be found running shirtless through the auditorium where he steals a handbag.

Everyone is kissing everyone, age and orientation be damned. Summoned by the gay sorcery unfolding, 65-year-old queer rock goddess Gianna Nanini manifests and is kissed worshipfully on the lips by 36-year-old duet partner Coez.

There’s also some kind of song competition going on I guess. 

This happens:

That’s Ghali, GUYS, IT’S NOT WORKING, rappers ARE DROPPING LIKE FLIES ALL OVER THIS STAGE, WE’VE GOT TO DO SOMETHING.

(...  it isn’t really Ghali and don’t worry. This is a gag? Which I still don’t really get? And nor does sweet anarchist cherub Fiorello whom we will later discover is currently being physically restrained from rushing onstage to tend to the fallen rapper’s wounds.)

The real Ghali raps in Arabic which among other things is a big old “me ne frego” of his own to Italian Trump-tribute act and failed wannabe prime minister Matteo Salvini. Then he gets close to Fiorello, which can only end one way.

All the boys are crazy for Fiorello’s kisses but Amadeus still can’t have any

It’s already a difficult night for Amadeus.  TV presenter Antonella Clerici enters and far from standing a step beside him, righteously rips the piss out of him, which to be fair he accepts with grace.

And as for Achille Lauro ... ...No.  Patience. The time to bear witness to the last stand of Achille Lauro is not yet come. There are other forces stirring at Sanremo.

Chaos has its dark side.

The gun on stage is cocked and loaded. This is it. ENTER MORGAN.

... and enter Bugo,  who trails in behind Morgan, looking dazed and haunted. But whatever, it’s a million o’clock in the morning, aren’t we all. 

They start to play.  Italian Tumblr dozes fitfully on its sofa, idly crackshipping Amadeus and Fiorello. Utterly unprepared.

So most of us don’t notice what’s happening ...

... until the music just stops.

No one’s paid attention to the Morgan and Bugo in days. As far as I’m concerned Fabrizio Moro has already been avenged and my bloodlust is slaked.  The song - apparently written wholly by Bugo - honestly, isn’t bad, but Morgan’s been tuneless throughout and their duet/cover last night was cringeable. There have been some major reversals in the rankings but at this point there’s almost no way they’re going to be one of them.  And Morgan is not happy.

So Morgan changed the lyrics (and this isn’t even last-minute improv, he fucking printed it) to attack the one person who still had faith in him, blaming Bugo and Bugo alone for their poor performance so far. On live TV. In front of millions. After screaming at Bugo backstage just minutes ago. And he expects Bugo to just stand there and take it.

"Me ne frego to that shit,” thinks Bugo, and becomes the unexpected self-care hero of Sanremo as he vanishes into the night.

And that’s how I learned the Italian word for pandemonium. 

Morgan has the absolute nerve to ask what’s going on. Amadeus breaks out in visible cold sweat. Fiorello is thrown bodily onstage to DO SOMETHING, ANYTHING, OH MY GOD.

It’s long past midnight and a bunch of worried middle-aged men in sparkly jackets are scampering around yelping “Bugo? Bugo! BUGO? BUGO!!!” and that, I am here to tell you, when you are already delirious from exhaustion and shitposting-induced hysteria, is more than enough to tip you right over the edge.

Italian Tumblr resigns itself to never sleeping again.The memes aren’t going to make themselves. 

Translation: ”Is Bugo there?” “What’s happening?” “Where’s Bugo gone?” “I have to go and see where Bugo is.” “Bugo left.” “BUGO!”

Morgan wants vengeance. Fiorello, adorably indifferent to the fact that he was shoved on stage to, you know, entertain the audience, wants to find the missing waif, wrap him in a blanket and feed him soup. So they both rush offstage and Amadeus is left alone in a living anxiety dream.

The audience are booing.  The 70th fucking Sanremo Festival of Italian Song is falling to pieces on his watch. For all he knows murder is going on backstage and he picked known powder-keg and scoundrel Morgan for the Festival. The buck stops with him. And he has no lines, no back-up, no idea what to do about it.

And then Fiorello, angel of misrule, avatar of lawlessness and love, strolls back onstage. He looks confident and relaxed, like a man with all the answers.  Which he is.

“Have you got Bugo?” Amadeus inquires desperately.

NO RULES, NO MASTERS, NO SPONSORSHIP MONEY. ME NE FREGO.

Everything is broken. And somehow everything is OK.

Everyone, Amadeus included, bursts into hysterical, cathartic laughter.

“Is this my fault?” Amadeus asks. “YES!” crows Fiorello, lovingly forcing Amadeus to face his sins and his nightmares in a healing atmosphere of radical acceptance and mass psychosis.

And that’s how Amadeus learned that the real Sanremo was inside us all along.  And what he needs in this glorious maelstrom was never a beautiful woman standing a step behind him. It’s a chaos pixie dream boy at his side.

It’s time to cast out toxic masculinity and become a better man.

So Amadeus wraps up the show as best he can and then out of pure human compassion, he and Fiorello personally wander the streets of Sanremo looking for Bugo until four in the morning.

Bugo and Morgan are automatically disqualified

And now let us witness the final passion of Achille Lauro. Who is this Achlle Lauro kid anyway? How intentional is all this? Is he the Messiah, or a very naughty boy?

SO YEAH. Anyway, everyone’s wondering what the fuck Achille and his producer/guitarist Boss Doms (yes, really) are going to do, and BE, next. Achille’s first three looks were inspired by St Francis of Assisi, David Bowie, and Marchesa Luisa Casati. 

So ... Freddie Mercury, maybe? Elizabeth I? Jesus Christ?  And after the flurry of kissing Fiorello whipped up .. 

Will they ... can they ... dare they...

Do you even need to ask?

I have no idea how the crazy bastards who guessed “Elizabeth I” did it. 

Achille thrusts his hips against Boss’s backside. Drops to his knees before him and lets the shape of the microphone speak for itself. Briefly chokes him. And throughout they are tender, elegant, and utterly, regally dignified.

And then, at last.

A  joyous chorus of maenad-like shrieks rings out across Europe. If you’re in the Greater London area and your ears are still sore, I’m sorry. That was me. 

That’s it. Achille Lauro and Boss Doms ascend into heaven and pass into history. 

Not even they can give more to Sanremo.

The dust settles. 

The dawn breaks.

WE FUCKING DID IT! RANCORE LIVES! WOUNDED (as are we all) BUT SMILING AT A WORLD TRANSFORMED! (Not only that but, after starting at the bottom of the leaderboard he’s been catapulted up into the top ten and wins the special prize for Best Lyrics!)

And Amadeus?

Well, let’s hear from him in his own words.

Because Fiorello asked him to, Amadeus is wearing a blonde wig to look like legendary TV host Maria de Filippi. Amadeus doesn’t normally sing, but because Fiorello asks him to, he joins him in song.“A WORLD OF LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!” they chorus. It’s the hymn of the new day. 

“He can make me do anything!” Amadeus sighs to the audience. So Fiorello asks him to slow-dance.  And they do.

The prophecy has been fulfilled. Amadeus has let love into his heart. He has surrendered to the holy power of gay chaos. He is a man reborn. 

He didn’t find Bugo on that long, gruelling dark night of the soul, because incredibly,  poor Bugo never left the theatre and spent the night literally hiding in a cupboard.

But he found something else. 

As Sanremo finally, mercifully approaches its end, Fiorello grapples him close and, all teasing cast aside, whispers fiercely in his ear:

And somehow it was.

And toxic masculinity?

To find out why don’t we - and I am sorry about this - check in on Matteo Salvini who would normally be rage-tweeting up a Trump-style storm by now. He loves bitching about Sanremo for being “rigged by the left”  or occasionally letting a non-lily-white performer win, and this year he even tried to organise a boycott. Let’s see how that’s going.

This, the gayest-ever Sanremo in history, is the most-watched Sanremo in 18 years, with an incredible 60% audience share.

“Me Ne Frego” flies to the top of the Spotify charts.  (And though the judges are still cowards and traitors who left Achille in 8th place, there is no doubt across the media who the real star of the festival was. ) And Salvini’s “boycott” just meant he effectively banned himself from making a peep about it.

So who won the festival?

ALL OF US.

Oh, you meant literally.

This guy. His name is Diodato and his song is called “Fai Rumore” (Make a Sound.) It’s fine.

And that was Sanremo. It wasn’t a dream, it was a place. And you, and you, and you were there.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Sinking under

Pairing: detective!Steve x Reader Warnings: yandere, stalking, death of minor character, allusion to non-con. Words: 1180. Summary: You are suspected of a murder you did not commit. Steve Rogers, a detective employed by the mother of a victim, makes your life even more pitiful than it already is. _____________________________________  God, he was there. That detective was following you again, his bulky figure hiding beside supermarket shelves. He was becoming a fundamental part of your life once your insane abusive neighbor was murdered. Of course, his mother thought you were the one accountable for his death since you rejected his advances multiple times, not his shady friends, some of them having a long list of criminal records.

But the sleuths she hired didn’t care, you thought. If they were payed to follow you around, they would do that without any regret. One of them, a strikingly handsome man with blond hair and deep blue eyes, was more eager to accompany you wherever you went. To make it worse, you figured out that Steve Rogers, that was his name, had a very close relationship with Clint Barton, the chief of police of your town. If the police would not be able to find a real murderer, maybe those detectives could make you a scapegoat. 

You trembled thinking of that and wiped off the tears shimmering in your eyes. All this investigation took a heavy toll on your mental health: constant checkups, long tiring conversations with the police detectives, constant threats coming from that deranged woman who blamed your for the death of her “little boy”, and your face on the newspapers were making your life a living Hell.

God, why? What have you done? Told this bastard who couldn’t keep his arms to himself to fuck off? Would it be better if you’d just let him have his way with you? Maybe then this disgusting old lady would be happy.

No, you couldn’t take any more of this. You did nothing wrong. You were the victim, not the perpetrator! You did not deserve to be hunted down like an animal!

Wiping the tears again and again, you just stormed off to the shelves where that detective was hiding, thinking you didn’t see. Well, you’d stop by to tell him he was doing a pretty shitty job.

But when you saw his surprised face, neither hatred nor hostility in his expression, you could not utter a single word. He was standing in front of you in his black t-shirt and jeans like a guy who had just run to the store for some cola, not to harass you or make you feel guilty over a crime you did not commit. When you realized you were shaking and crying in a full voice like a madwoman, Steve was already taking you outside, his strong arms pressing your head to his chest as if he tried shielding you from prying eyes.

He took you to his car parked nearby and wrapped you in his jacket, holding your hands in his huge warm palms and saying to you something to calm you down. You couldn’t quite catch his words, crying in the white handkerchief Steve gave you. By the time you stopped whining he was already driving you somewhere.

“Are you feeling any better?” He asked you apologetically, his voice full of concern.

“I am.” You said and stared blankly out the window. “Thank you. I’d be much better if you’d stop following me around, though.”

“I’m sorry, madam, but this is my job.” He let out a loud sigh. “Believe me, I have no intention to harm you in any way. But I have to do what I’m told.”

“So, what does this old hag tell you to do?” Smiling bitterly, you looked at his wet handkerchief in your hands and clenched your fist. “I know she wants to see me in jail. Beheaded would be a better option, but I don’t think it’s legal.”

He looked at you with both pity and regret. Once Steve reached out to you to gently stroke your knee you flinched, but then only pressed a piece of white fabric to your face one more time. He just tried to calm you down. Maybe he wasn’t as dreadful as you imagined; Steve was simply doing his job.

“Listen, I’d be honest with you.” His hand had shifted up a bit. “You’re number one suspect. You have a good motive, no alibi for the time of his death, and there’s a witness saying you were seen close to this guy’s house half an hour before he died.”

You let out a dark chuckle. Of course, they’d blame you, a girl who had no one to protect her, no money to have a good lawyer even. Would they plant some evidence to frame you? It wouldn’t be too hard, you realized, since most of the time you were out of the house and anyone could come and hide, say, a murder weapon there.

“But it doesn’t mean you’ll end up in jail.” Steve squeezed your knee gently and suddenly smiled to you like he was some sort of prince coming to your rescue. “I don’t believe you did it. I know this piece of shit was forcing you to sleep with him, and I admire you rebuffed him. I think it was very brave of you.”

You got silent for a minute, staring at the man with your brows snapped together. Did he say he admired you? For real? He wasn’t trying to make your life more miserable, was he? Did Steve really mean it?

His warm sympathetic smile made your eyes swam with tears again, and you hided your face in his handkerchief.

“Thank you.” You murmured quietly through the fabric and then took it away from your eyes. “I… It really means a lot to me…” You exhaled loudly, covering your face with your other arm. It was really nice of him to say that, yet it’s not like the situation got any better for you. ”But it still doesn’t change the fact they’ll probably plead me guilty. I know I’m a scapegoat. No one dare to help someone who can’t give anything in return.”

“Wait, wait, slow down a bit.” His blue eyes flickered with interest and some sort of emotion you could not recognize. “I didn’t say anything about that. I know you think I’m on the other side, but maybe I could help you to prove you didn’t commit this murder.”

Confused and somewhat disoriented from his sudden confession you stared at him dumbfoundedly, your hands clenching the handkerchief so hard they started to get numb. Now you had a million questions going through your head. Help you? Why? His job was to do the opposite. What could he possibly gain from helping you? You had no money, no useful links, nothing Steve might had possibly need. Yet he was sitting there and smiling widely at you, his hand on your knee, his grip becoming a bit tighter.

“B-but why would you do that for me?” You gaped, suddenly feeling like you were better to return home right now. “This woman is paying you some good money. I’m penniless.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that.” Steve’s affectionate expression turned darker, and he smirked. “We’ll figure something out.”

Then when you wanted to ask him to stop the car, you realized you had no idea where the two of you were heading.  You were driving somewhere outside the town for good ten minutes already.

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Her Majesty || 11

Crowns and Robes.

Anastasia’s pov 

At some point along the long drive, I dozed off to the sound of Harry softly humming to the radio while attempting to get a hold of someone on his phone. I’m not sure who he was calling, I remember him asking me if I was okay, and as far as I know, I hummed a response. 

I am fine; I am not going to fall off the deep end and swiftly become deranged. I don’t understand the circumstances that have happened in the last few months, I never imagined that this is what being Royal would be like. My parents didn’t prepare me for any of this, I don’t think anyone could have equipped me for these trials of royalty. 

I am incredibly fatigued, sleeping without Harry and not knowing where he has been stressing me out, along with being unsure of my father and his mayhem. Now, I have Victoria’s corpse imprinted in my memory every time I close my eyes. I don’t want to shut my eyes and envision everything, but I am so exhausted that I have no choice. I closed my eyes just for a moment while Harry drove and I was in and out of sleep the rest of the ride. 

I briefly remember Harry waking me up and whispering in my ear that he couldn’t carry me, I had no real clue where we were, but all I remember is falling back asleep as soon as I had a soft place to fall. 

I breathe in the scent of clean sheets and I pull the covers further up my body while I open my eyes in an attempt to grasp my bearings. “Harry?” His name falls sleepily from my lips while I sit up, the room still blacked out from the curtains. 

“Go back to sleep,” Harry mumbles, tugging at the covers, “At my Mum’s, you’re fine,” Harry assures me, getting comfortable in the bed. 

I don’t think he understands that just because he claims that we are safe, it doesn’t mean I’m going to believe it at this point. 

I tilt my head to the side and watch the slight ray of sunshine slowly peek its way through the curtains while I think about the last few hours that have transpired. 

I can’t help but continue to remember walking away from Harry. I should have listened to him and stayed with him and Matthew, maybe then I wouldn’t have had to discover Victoria.

I remember I was walking along the stones, following the path when I was momentarily sidetracked by this scent that made me sick to my stomach, I thought nothing of it. I figured it was just a rodent or some sort of explanation that wasn’t a dead body. I fell over her body, quite literally, and the thought of remembering the incident causes my stomach to stir. 

With every day that passes, I become more and more aware of the fact that my father is immoral. I’m not sure what he has managed to get into, but whatever it is, it’s not good. Ultimately, I’m paying the consequences of his actions and decisions. I can’t blame him for everything, with us being royal, we are always at risk, but recently, it seems like we are at a higher risk, thanks to him. 

I benevolently shake Harry, being cautious not to touch his painful shoulder, Harry mumbles something inaudible against his pillow before lifting his head, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Harry sleepily asks, leisurely sitting himself up, his right hand beginning to reach to his side table. 

“You don’t need the gun,” I inform him, noticing what he is reaching for. I think it is a force of habit for him, he never really knows why I could be waking him, with all the dangerous events and evacuations, I don’t blame him for stretching for it while half asleep, unaware as to why I am waking him. 

Harry hums, “Then why the fuck am I awake?” He grumbles, not too pleased. 

“Do, do you think my Dad is losing it?” 

“What?” Harry asks, seeming a little confused. 

“Do you think he is losing the plot? Going senile? Literally going mentally insane?” It could make sense for him to be losing his mind.  

Senility can produce changes in mental health, such as memory loss or a decline in judgment. His judgment certainly hasn’t been the best when it comes to things, he put me in jeopardy when we went to Greece, he put us all in danger, he is angry all of the time and has acted out, firing a lot of the staff— He isn’t the Father I remember, he has been on a steady decline ever since he started to talk about handing me the crown, once he told the whole of Britain that he was hoping to hand things down to me by the end of the year, everything steadily got worse. personality or behaviour changes are another symptom but the only issue is that he is too young to be going senile, he is only fifty, surely he isn’t old enough to be going senile. Maybe he is clinically insane? Maybe I am clinically insane at this point, I feel like I am going insane. 

Harry blankly stares at me for a few moments, silence crowding the room. 

Harry shakes his head and lies back down, “Goodnight, Anastasia.” 

“Harry—”

“Go to sleep,” Harry mumbles, drawing the covers back up his body and becoming comfortable between the sheets. 

I heavily sigh and move my body closer to his, trying to get as close as possible without bothering him hurting him. Harry doesn’t speak, instead, he opens his arm and enables me to move closer, allowing him to settle his arm around me while I relax on his good shoulder. 

I listen to the melodious breaths of Harry while he falls asleep. I gaze up at the ceiling, trying to think of a logical solution for everything that has been occurring. 

Perhaps my Father is going senile. Perhaps my Father just has a lot of enemies. 

Perhaps the monarch is turning against my Father. 

Perhaps all of this is happening without logical explanations. 

Perhaps I need to find a way to pass the crown to someone else.

♔♔♔ ♔♔♔

Through the night, I was in and out of sleep, so was Harry, I could feel him shuffling around in the bed, trying to get comfortable and groaning every so often. Sleeping doesn’t come to me easily now, last night I was concerned about my father, I do not know where exactly he is or if he is okay. I genuinely think he is starting to lose his mind, it would explain his shift in behaviours. One minute he’s trying to marry me off and the next minute he’s angry at the world.  

I shift the covers around my body and groan, a desire to stay in bed overcoming me sharply as I gradually wake up to the sound of an unfamiliar voice down the hallway, “I heard there’s a princess, I want to meet her.” 

“Gemma, shh,” Harry hushes her, “She’s asleep, go away. You’re not following me in here,” Harry continues, doing his best to whisper but failing. 

I chuckle to myself as the door opens, “Damnit, Gemma, piss off,” Harry again mutters, pushing her arm away from the doorframe and closing the door behind him. 

Harry glances over at me and smiles, “I’m sorry, she’s uh— she wants to meet you.” 

“She wants to meet a princess.” I correct him. 

“Mhm,” Harry hums, “She doesn’t mean that in a bad way; she means no disrespect.” 

I sit up in the bed and shrug my shoulders, “Is ‘she’ your sister or?” I ask, unsure of who is summoning me and wanting to meet me. I know Harry has a sister, I have never met her so I can only assume the woman eager to meet me in the hallways’ is no other than his sister. 

Harry nods his head, “Yes, my sister who seems to have a problem with boundaries.” 

“Well,” I chuckle, pulling the covers towards my shoulders, “She sounds lovely.” 

“She’s a pest,” Harry responds, “But, she did bring some clothes for you,” Harry places a pair of leggings and a long sweater on the bed, “Mum bought some clothes while we were asleep for you to go through, probably warmer than this,” Harry holds up the white sweater. 

“I am sure it is fine,” I assure him, appreciative that his mother and sister were both kind enough to take into consideration that I have no clothes besides what I left London in. 

When I was woken up by Harry, I had no clue that we would be evacuating and I would have nothing besides the clothes on my back and my phone. 

“It’s a bit crisp this morning.”

“Says the person who isn’t wearing a shirt,” I point out. 

“Do you know how painful it is to put a shirt on without help? It was easier to just throw on the bloody sling and sweatpants. Should let my mother shop for me more, these are comfortable,” Harry gestures towards his pants, causing me to raise a brow. 

I can’t deny the fact that if it wasn’t for his damn shoulder, I’d gradually make my way closer to him, and allow my hands to flow across his shoulders before travelling themselves down his chest, where my thoughts would become entangled with only one—him.

My hands would examine the texture of his body, moderately working their way past his abs, and then my fingers would sweep across his V-line in a teasing matter where his sweatpants would fall to his ankles. 

I cock my head to the side, admiring the way his hair has been brushed but still appears rumpled, he has his sun-kissed tan from the summer and his few tattoos seem to catch my attention this morning. 

He has the body of a faultlessly chiselled sculpture and it’s destroying me in all ways. 

“Do I even want to ask what you’re thinking about?” Harry distracts me from my stare. 

I bite my lip and gaze up at him, trying my best to conceal my smirk. 

Harry clears his throat and begins to step around to my side, “You have that look.” 

“What look?” I innocently inquire. 

Harry leans down and kisses my lips sweetly, “The look where you want to make love,” Harry whispers, drawing away from my lips and enticing me further. 

“Why must you always say ‘make love’?” 

“Because fucking the princess just isn’t as romantic.” Harry outright responds, “Not very respectful.” 

“Whatever,” I roll my eyes, “Soooo…” I trail off with a grin. 

Harry sighs and shakes his head, “I can’t, Anna.” 

“How many times will you deny me until you give in? Talk about playing hard to get,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. 

I have lost count how many times I have been denied.

“I hate to break it to you, but you do realise I fucked my shoulder and can barely move it after carrying you last night?” 

“I had a better chance of getting anything out of you while you were on morphine.” I laugh, playfully teasing him.

Harry chuckles, “Probably,” he nods, “Believe me, I wish I still had my morphine.” 

“Mhm, change the subject, sounds about right.” 

“Spoilt.” Harry laughs, delighted by the fact I’m still sexually frustrated. 

I raise a brow at him, “Spoilt? Me? How? You haven’t touched me in quite some time.” 

“Anna… baby…” Harry sighs, “How about tonight?” 

“Last time I heard that, you ended up hurt and I was shoved in a bloody pantry thing, hiding from people who wanted to kill me, soooo.” I trail off, reminding him of the last time those words left his strawberry-red lips.

“I promise, tonight.” 

“I’ll be pissed if I’m shoved in a pantry.”

Harry smiles, “Nothing bad will happen, you won’t be shoved into pantries and your life won’t be on the line.” 

I grin at Harry and nod my head, agreeing that tonight will work, as long as nothing negative happens by then. 

“Mhm,” I hum, “Whatever you say,” I respond just as the door to the bedroom opens. 

Harry glances over his shoulder towards the door where his sister, I assume, stands, leaning on the doorframe with an angelic smile while locks of chestnut-brown hair curtain her face.

“Do I need to cutesy?” Gemma questions under her breath, staring at me half a smile painted across her lips. 

“Yes,” Harry responds with a smirk, watching his sister do her very best at curtsying to me. 

I raise a brow towards Harry before I shake my head, “No, I’m just Anastasia, I’m not a princess while I’m here,” I smile at her, not wanting anyone to treat me and different than what they would a normal civilian. I don’t expect them to curtsy to me or refer to me as ‘Princess,’ I expect nothing besides kindness, and that is what I have been shown so far. “He is just being a jerk,” I assure his sister. 

His sister nods her head, “It’s what he does best. I’m Gemma, his sister.” 

“Yes, this is my sister, who is very kindly interrupting,” Harry interjects as he pulls his phone from his pocket, “You at least could have knocked.” 

Gemma shrugs her shoulders and walks past Harry, not caring about his comments, “If you need any clothes, just let me know. I don’t know what Mum picked out but if you need anything, just ask.” 

“I need you to leave,” Harry smiles, and again, Gemma ignores him, entirely brushing him off and sorting through the clothes Harry placed on the bed from their mother. 

“Thank you, Gemma,” I appreciate her being kind. She doesn’t have to be nice to me and offer me her clothes, quite honestly, she doesn’t have to do anything for me, this is the first time she has met me. She has every reason to be standoffish with me. “I’m going to make coffee,” I push the covers of the sheets off my body, “Give you two time to catch up,” I wink towards Harry, well aware that he doesn’t get to see his family too often, I think it is best to give them some time, even if it is just a few minutes while I make coffee. 

♔♔♔

I walk down the hallway with two cups of coffee in my hands, making my way towards Harry’s childhood bedroom. The last time I tried to make our coffee, it did not go nearly as smoothly as it did this time. Not that it is a very big achievement, but I smile to myself, quite pleased with how my coffee turned out, even if it is a simple task. Making coffee in the palace is not something that I do, I never get the chance to— it is all done for me. I know how privileged and spoilt it makes me sound, but in all fairness, I would change things if I could. I want to be able to do mundane things such as making coffee and washing linens. 

“So, can you tell me what happened and why you’re up here?” Harry’s sister challenges him just as I stop outside the door.

“I could, but then I’d have to kill you.” 

“It can’t be that serious,” she scoffs. 

“Drop it,” Harry warns sternly, in a way I’d never expect him to act towards his sister. 

“You’re such a hardass, don’t forget you used to chase butterflies in the garden as a kid.” 

“I don’t pry about your job, don’t pry about mine.” 

“That’s because you’re an ass and never ask me about my job… not that it’s very interesting compared to yours.” 

“You think keeping your wife alive is interesting?” Harry snaps unhappily.

“Well, she isn’t your wife yet, but yes. Seems like the palace life is interesting… Speaking of which, Harry, are you sure you want this?” Gemma asks, causing my heart to sink in my chest. She doesn’t sound like she approves of our relationship. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Are you sure you want to marry into the royal family? It’s a big fucking deal… Putting aside all the shit I don’t know and the danger you’re currently in, do you realise how much work being a royal is? Your life will never be the same again.” 

“There’s a reason we are keeping it quiet. I love her, I want to be with her, I don’t care about the royal family and the monarchy narrative, I care about her.” 

“You have to care about the monarch because you’ll be a part of it, Harry. She won’t choose you over the crown, she can't hand it off to someone else. You won’t be normal.” Gemma explains the things that I have already tried to explain to Harry before. He is aware things aren’t normal. 

“I don’t want her to choose me over the crown, I’ve accepted she has major responsibilities, I know what I’m getting into, Gemma. I don’t need you to tell me what I’m getting into, I see it every day, you just read about it in history books and on social media.” 

“I’m making sure you understand that this isn’t going to be easy. You won’t work, you will do royal duties, is that what you want? You should be working towards being the president of operations, not suddenly becoming royalty.” 

“I’m aware. I’m a big boy, I can make my own decisions. I can still work security, I don’t want Matthew’s job right now. I’m marrying her, if you don’t like it then that’s just too bad. I’m not here for your approval, quite frankly I’m not here at all for you.” 

“There you go being an arse.”

“You bring out the asshole in me when you act like I’m not capable of making decisions. I’m your little brother, I get it, but I thought you of all people would be more accepting. I expected mum to be the one to convince me not to marry her, instead, mum's the one who encouraged me to propose. I had my doubts, I know I’m not good enough for her, she deserves Prince Charming and I’m just some guy from the country-side who became her security… but damnit I try every day to be the man she needs, so do me a favour and at least pretend to like her until we leave.” 

“I do like her, Harry.” 

“Then this conversation doesn’t need to go any further,” Harry dismisses her and I let out a breath. 

I should have walked away when I heard them talking, I shouldn’t have listened in to the conversation because now I don’t know how I feel about everything.

If his sister doesn’t have faith in us then who the fuck will? 

“I have coffee,” I announce, pretending like I didn’t hear them as I step into the bedroom and hand Harry his coffee. 

Harry kisses my cheek and takes the cup from my hand, wasting no time with taking a sip, “Much better than last time,” Harry grins. 

“I’ll leave you two to settle in, I have some sewing to do,” Gemma excuses herself politely, standing up from her position on the bed and walking out without saying anything further. 

I look towards Harry, wanting to question things but there is a time and a place, right now isn’t the right time. I can’t start something at this hour of the morning, I don’t want to start our day on a shitty note. 

♔♔♔ ♔♔♔

Harry grins at me while he launches a blanket towards me and makes his way towards the open fireplace that has been roaring since sunset. He pokes the logs a little before adding the last log to the fire, ambers crackling and disbursing in their brilliant colours of red and apricot. 

He comes closer to me and kisses my cheek before falling beside me and getting comfortable, his hand making sure to move the blanket so I’m covered and warm. “Have you found a dress you like, love?” 

I shake my head and hand him my tea, “No, it’s hard when I need to try them on,” I answer. 

Just because it seems good online it doesn’t mean it’ll look good in person, wedding dress shopping without a boutique is harder than one would think. “Starting to wonder if we should just get married at the courthouse.” 

Harry shakes his head immediately, “No, you deserve the dress of your dreams at the very least.” 

“Harry, I don’t need it… I just want to get married. We can go to the courthouse.” 

“Anna—“ 

“Jus’ think about it? Your Mum understands where I’m coming from.” 

“My mother agreed with you?” Harry raises a brow. 

“Can you just think about it?” 

“You want me to just take you to the courthouse?” 

“I don’t see why not.” 

“You’d be happy to go to the courthouse right now and get married? No dress, no family, nothing?” Harry questions. 

“Yes.” 

Harry nods his head and sighs before standing to his feet, “I’m going to bed.” 

“Are you mad?” I question, watching as he begins to walk away, “Harry?” 

He turns and peers over at me, “No, are you coming to bed?” Harry questions while walking down the hallway, leaving me by myself in the living room.

I wander into his bedroom and close the door, “Are you seriously upset with me? You can’t just walk away from a conversation because you don’t—“ I begin to express my frustration with him walking away from me and the conversation about our wedding, but I’m swiftly cut off by his lips hitting mine and his body pushing me against the wall. 

He drags his mouth from my own and leaves sweet kisses down my jawline, moving to my neck, “Not mad,” he mumbles against my warm skin, causing my heart to skip a beat. 

His hand slips under my shirt and we begin to dance our way to the bed before he pushes me to fall to the bed.

Before anything more, Harry’s phone begins to ring, causing him to drag his mouth from my own, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Harry huffs, reaching over and grabbing his phone from the side table. “Hello?” Harry snaps in an unhappy tone, making it a point to show he has been inconvenienced. “Matthew, I’m busy right now, I can’t drive…. What? You’re out front already? Well, fuck, give me a few minutes to get dressed…” Harry hangs up the phone and looks at me. “Anna, I’m so sorry…” 

I shake my head and heavily sigh, “It’s fine. What’s happening?” 

Harry kisses my cheek before forcing himself off the bed and makes his way towards some of his clothes his Mum graciously bought him, “I have to work with Matthew.” 

“What do you mean?” I question, unsure of what Harry means. He shouldn’t be having to work, he’s on my service and there is nothing for him to do besides make sure I’m safe. My parents are in other places, so it isn’t as though he had to escort them anywhere. 

Harry’s hesitant to speak and takes a moment of silence to gather the right words to say, “We need to handle some stuff at Windsor and Buckingham.” 

“You’re driving back to London? I don’t think you should be driving at this hour.” 

Harry shakes his head, “Matthew is.” 

“Why though?” 

“Anastasia, you don’t want to know.” 

I shake my head and sigh, “I’d like to know. Seems suspicious to me.” I am not trying to start an argument by any means, I just want to know where he is going and why. With everything that has happened and how my world is entirely upside down, it makes me feel better to know what is going on instead of being left in he dark or being blindsided. 

“Anna, you make my job hard sometimes,” Harry mutters, “I have to go and help move Victoria.” 

“What?” My eyes grow wide while he does his best to pull on a sweater. 

“You heard me, I need to go move her,” he responds. 

I look at him, bewildered by the fact that he’s having to do such a thing, the sheer idea of him going back in the tunnels to her makes me uneasy. 

I flashback to what I saw in the tunnels and her lifeless body lying on the concrete. 

I don’t want to ask any more questions, I don’t need any more answers, nor do I want to know any. I don’t want to be apart of anything that has to do with Victoria right now. 

♔♔♔ ♔♔♔

I’m pulled from my slumber when Harry gently caresses his hand to my arm and kisses my cheek, “Hey, Baby,” Harry whispers, “I’m home.”

I gradually push myself up on my elbow, grasping my focus as Harry kisses my forehead, “Go back to sleep.” Harry adjusts the covers, drawing them more towards my side of my bed before placing a phone down on my side table, “Your new phone to call your parents off.” 

“Why do I need a new phone?” I tiredly question, unsure of why the old one that I have is being replaced. 

“Precautions to make sure it isn’t tapped and tracked, I will get rid of your old one when I wake up. Now, go back to sleep.” 

Ever since Harry left, I’ve been uneasy and sick to my stomach, I’m not sure what it is but even just hearing her name managed to unsettle me. I move to sit up against the pillows while Harry places his phone and wallet on the side table on my side as well, “Go to sleep, it’s four in the morning.” 

I shake my head and Harry sits down on the edge beside me, “Why? Are you having nightmares about everything?” He softly asks, remembering the last time I was up here and the fact Henry left me with nightmares the first night.  

“No… I’m not feeling too well.” 

Harry presses his hand to my forehead, “Well, no temperature. Do you want me to go get you anything?” 

“No, it’s okay,” I half-smile at him, “Get in bed, you’re probably exhausted.” 

Harry shakes his head, “Move forward a bit,” Harry instructs, gently pressing his hand to my back, “I’ll stay up with you,” he continues, beginning to rub soothing circles on my back. “Would you like tea or a heating pad?” 

“I’d like for life to settle down, Harry.” 

“I am doing my best to make it happen.”

“You can’t,” I sigh. 

There isn’t much that Harry can do to settle life and normalise things. None of this is his fault, my family issues do not stem from him, but I can’t help but continue to replay the conversation in my head that he has with his sister. 

Harry doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve inconsistency and scrutiny of things. He deserves a lovely girl who is normal, someone that will make sure dinner is on the table when he gets home from a long day at work and will pour him a drink to his liking. Harry deserves someone who isn’t in the spotlight of the world and who doesn’t need to be watched twenty-four-seven. Although I am aware that he does deserve better, the selfish part of me doesn’t want to care. 

Harry swears up and down this is what he wants and that he is aware of what he is getting into, but due to the current events, I don’t even know what I am getting into anymore. I don’t know what each day will hold, for all I know, by tomorrow morning I could be whisked off to America because there is suddenly another threat— things are unpredictable.

“Harry,” I begin with a soft voice, “Is this what you want?” 

“To be awake at this hour? No.” Harry shakes his head. 

I don’t think anyone wants to be awake at this hour.

“No,” I shake my head, “Us? Getting married and being apart of royalty.” 

Harry continues to rub my back, “I want to marry you, I thought that was pretty clear.” 

“But you do know it won’t be easy, right? You know that being married to a Queen will have disadvantages, right?” 

“I accepted that when you said you would not abdicate and refuse the crown. I want to marry you, where is all this coming from?” 

“If it came down to it, Harry, I would give up the crown for us, but right now I cannot. There is nobody to take it that is a good fit, the monarch would go into the hands of a distant cousin and I don’t want to risk that. I don’t want to risk us either, it is going to be hard, it won’t be easy, and… and you won’t have as much freedom, you deserve the life you want to live.” 

“Mhm,” Harry hums, “Anna, did my sister say something to you?” Harry instantly questions. 

I shake my head, “No.” 

“You heard her conversation, didn’t you?” 

I don’t respond, I stay closed-lipped and allow the silence to penetrate the bedroom. “Shouldn’t eavesdrop, darling,” Harry heavily sighs before I feel him press a kiss to my shoulder, “I know what I am getting into, my sister overstepped her mark, I can make my decisions. I want to marry you, let’s get some sleep.” Harry continues, moving to kiss my cheek, “I love you, don’t forget that,” Harry adds, carefully moving beside me. 

“Just making sure this is what you want.” 

“If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here.” 

“You have no choice, you’re the bodyguard,” I chuckle. 

Harry shakes his head, “I don’t have to be in bed with you, and I don’t have to be planning a wedding. Don’t overthink it, ignore my sister. Your bodyguard is tired and would like to sleep.” Harry presses, pulling the covers over his body

♔♔♔

Harry’s POV

The rain has been falling heavily for the last hour, and it's almost like the heavens have ultimately decided to open up and they don’t want to close. 

I stare down at the steam emanating from my hot tea, my hands cupped around the edges, the heat radiating warmth through my body. 

I should be curled up in bed with the gracious covers around me and my beautiful partner beside me, asleep, instead, I’m perched at the kitchen table, staring into an abyss of a cup looking for answers that I’m sure I won’t be able to discover. Most people find answers at the bottom of a bottle, and I am almost at the point of finding a bottle of whiskey but I don’t think that will solve much. 

There are a few things I need to figure out.

Why Victoria is dead and why she was in the tunnels.

How long before Victoria is reported missing and whether she will be found.

How I explain things to Anastasia.

When will things go back to normal? 

If I could come up with a resolution for everything, perhaps life would be a little bit more indulgent, unfortunately, at some point, things became so hectic that I don’t have any answers. I think the next time I have a cup of coffee, I will need to add a shot of whiskey to it. I require something to help calm me down and soothe these damn questions that I can’t figure out. I feel as though I am attempting to piece together a puzzle that doesn’t have all the pieces. I am sure that the king has more pieces to this puzzle that he will not reveal just yet. 

I can’t begin to imagine how Anastasia feels, it lies heavily on my mind and I don’t know how to ask her how she is processing everything. Even if she does open up and tell me how she feels about the chaos, there isn’t much I can do besides console her and hold her. I am useless purely because I do not have answers for any of the questions that could be asked. I  know she will have questions, she always has questions. 

“Why do you look so glum?” My sister distracts me from my drowning thoughts. 

I glance up from my mug and discover my sister stepping closer, her hair thrown up in a bun and her sweater falling off her shoulder as she yawns. 

“I thought you moved out years ago?” 

She rolls her eyes at my comment, “Likewise… Some of us visit our mother and stay for a few days.” 

I don’t respond, I just take a sip of my tea, not wanting to banter with her at this hour. “So, why are you so glum? Where’s your princess?” 

I glare at my sister and she curls her lips up into a smirk. She’s doing this to purposely piss me off. 

As kids, we continuously took the piss out of each other and found ways to get under each other’s skin, and usually, I’d be all for our banter, but right now, I’m exhausted and I don’t want backhanded comments… especially when it comes to Anna who is on the direct path of an emotional breakdown. 

“Do you not like her or something?” I asked with irritation, unsure of where my sister stands when it comes to my relationship. 

Whether my sister likes her or not, it doesn’t change my decisions of marrying her, but I’d still like to know my sister’s thoughts. 

“I do,” my sister nods. 

“Then what is with the damn comments when it comes to my relationship.” 

My sister lifts her shoulders into a shrug, “Daddy Issues.” 

I roll my eyes and sigh, “You’re annoying. Dad treated you well…. daddy issues my fucking ass,” I shake my head at her, attempting not to laugh at her comment. 

Contrary to popular belief, we always got along with our father, he wasn’t the villain in our family story. Our parents went their separate ways but it wasn’t for any drastic reason like he was an asshole or cheated, no. 

Our parents outgrew each other and weren’t on the same path when it came to life— they had different goals and aspirations— they were perfect for each other until they weren’t. They served their purpose together and split ways civilly. They can see each other in the street and have a conversation, and they can see each other at family events pertaining to my sister and me, there’s no issue there. 

“I like her, I do, I just like to aggravate you. Can’t believe my little brother is in love.” 

“Mhm… Well, it would be nice if you were a little nicer to her. I know being nice isn’t apart of your personality, but she could use with nice people around her.” 

My sister isn’t the nicest of people sometimes, she is a hard person to read. My sister is highly sarcastic, sassy and very hard to get a grip on whether she likes you or not. There is a fine line between her liking you and disliking you— a fine line that is hard to distinguish. 

“I’m nice,” my sister defends, “I bought her clothes!” 

“Gemma…” I trail off, “She heard our conversation yesterday and thinks you don’t approve of her.” 

“Harry, that was me just looking out for you and making sure you know what you’re getting into. I read the news articles, I’ve read the biographies of past royals—“ 

“That’s different. I don’t care what you read and how you keep up with the history of the royals, but be nice to her, and don’t give her any doubts.” 

“She has doubts?” My sister questions.

I nod my head, “She heard our conversation and cried over it, so just keep your comments to a minimum.” 

“Is that why you’re so glum and seem like you’ve had your firstborn son taken from you?” 

I shake my head and leave my cup on the table before I bury my face into my hands and rub my face out of frustration and exhaustion. “I have a girl in there sleeping while her world is turned upside down. I haven’t slept because I had the privilege of moving a corpse, and if that isn’t enough, some of Anastasia’s jewellery was taken from Buckingham and I don’t know how to tell her.” 

“What kind of jewellery?” 

“Her expensive pieces and the ones I bought her. I don’t know how they took her stuff but didn’t manage to take the royal collections.” 

“Have you checked the pawn shops?” 

“Gemma,” I begin, “I haven’t had time to track down her jewellery, I was busy moving a fucking body.” 

“Are you going to tell her?” 

“I don’t want to… maybe? I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing. Starting to think running away with her is the best option.” 

In all honesty, life would be better off somewhere else, less drama. 

“Give me a list of items taken and I’ll find them. You should tell her, don’t have a closed-off communication, that will make things worse.” 

“What are you? Sherlock Holmes?” … “I don’t know if she can handle it, Gemma.”

I don’t want this to be what pushes her over the edge. 

“I have a few friends in the jewellery industry, just give me a list and we will see what we can do.” 

“Where were your jewellery friends when I was looking for a diamond ring?”  

“You never told me you were looking for a ring,” Gemma responds with a chuckle. 

She has a point, I did not tell my sister, sometimes I don’t confide in her all the time, she tends to come to me more than I go to her when it comes to things

“Mhm,” I hum, “I need you to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity or people around here. If anyone saw us moving the body, they’ll come for me or her family.”

“Oh, great, so we are at threat?” 

“Not you,” I shake my head. “Just me, her and her family. Nothing major,” I half-smile, trying not to scare my sister, “I’m going to go back to bed now and check on Anna,” I dismiss my sister before she can say anything in return. 

I walk down the hallway with my thoughts rattling my brain. 

How am I meant to tell her someone somehow stole some of her personal items? 

It is incredibly creepy that someone managed to get in her room. It had to have been done while we were away or after we had moved them into Windsor. I’m not sure how anyone can get into Buckingham and take her jewels, Buckingham is highly surveillance. 

I’m not sure what I’m meant to say to her, “Good morning, I love you… oh, and by the way, some of your jewellery was stolen.” — I don’t think that would be suitable for a morning wake up call. 

As my hand reaches for the doorknob of my old childhood bedroom, my phone rings. I heavily sigh and quickly grab it from the pocket of my sweatpants and quickly answer it, not wanting to wake Anastasia or my mother down the hallway. 

“Hello?” 

“Harry, my best pal,” Matthew cheers on the other end of the phone. 

I raise a brow, well aware that he’s trying to butter me up, “I saw you a few hours ago, what do you need?” 

“We need to have a bonding session.” 

“We bonded last night,” I respond, “I don’t think we need to bond,” I chuckle, walking towards the living room to pace the area without disturbing anyone. 

“I think we do.” 

“What needs to be done this time?” I sigh, unsure of what entails this bonding session. 

Surely it can’t be worse than last night. 

“We need to report to the king.” 

“He’s in the Netherlands,” I remind Matthew. 

“I’m aware, he needs us, we have things to take care of.” 

“What does this entail?” 

Matthew goes quiet before he clears his throat, “My engine light is flashing red like a code red sort of flashing, you should look at it. Come outside and look at it,” Matthew instructs, forcing me to read between the lines. 

Code red… code red… code red means the king needs us to do something under the radar that shouldn’t be spoken about over the phone or with anybody else. 

I hang up my phone and I walk my way to the front door. I take a break and I open the door to Matthew standing on the porch with an umbrella by his side. “Get your shit, we’re flying to the king.” Matthew bluntly instructs, not batting an eye with his instructions.

I heavily sigh, “Matthew, what do we have to do?” 

“I don’t know yet… but it isn’t pretty.” 

“Matthew, I physically can’t do any more dirty work, I can barely move my shoulder at this point,” I inform Matthew of the fact I’m not meant to be hauling dead bodies off and tampering with evidence to take the media attention away from the King and his family. 

I’m meant to still be on bed rest and taking it easy. I wish I was bedridden with morphine, this shit is getting to be too much to have to handle.

Matthew nods his head, “I understand, but this is important, code red sort of important, just like last night was a code red. Let’s go, you’ll be back tonight.” 

“Let me tell them I’m leaving,” I respond before stepping back inside the house. 

I find Gemma at the table with her iPad and a cup of coffee in her hand, her eyes gazing up towards me while I walk closer, “I need to go, tell mum I’ll be back tonight, be nice to Anastasia and tell mum to check the security systems, keep the doors locked.” 

“Do I need to be—“ 

“No,” I cut my sister off, “You don’t need to be concerned, just precautionary,” I respond, walking away from her before she can say anything. 

I step into my bedroom and walk closer to the bed, I sit on the edge beside Anastasia’s sleeping body. I gently press my hand to her arm, “Hey, sweetheart,” I whisper, slowly waking her up, “Hey, it’s just me,” I assure her as soon as her eyes open. 

“Harry,” she mumbles my name sleepily, causing me to smile. 

“I have to go, I’ll be back tonight, don’t worry though, you’re safe with Mum. Call me if you need me,” I lean down and kiss her forehead, “The gun is in the drawer beside you, Mum and my sister know what to do if anything happens, not that it will, just makin’ sure okay?” 

Anastasia hums her response and I adjust the covers for her and stand to my feet. Her hand wraps around my wrist and I look down at her, “Be careful, okay?”

I nod my head, “I will, I love you.” 

“Promise? I love you too.” 

“I promise,” I agree, giving her a small smile before taking my keys and wallet off the side table and stepping out of the bedroom. 

♔♔♔

I walk through the front door of my mother's house, more than thankful to finally be home. I feel the warmth wrap around my body and welcome me, and I couldn’t be happier. The flight home was fucking cold after we were stuck in the rain for a while, not to mention the drive from the airport to my mothers was just as miserable, Matthews rental car didn’t have heat, we both shivered and cussed the world for our problems. We tried to stop at the liquor store to find a bottle of whiskey to warm us up, but they were closed, we even tried to find a hotel but all hotels had no vacancy out here, so we suffered through the cold. 

I wander down the hallway and my mother stands to her feet from the couch, instantly coming to me, “You look like hell.” 

“Thanks, you’re so sweet,” I chuckle as she takes my shirt and jacket from my arm, “Mum, I can wash it and—“ 

She cuts me off, “Shut up,” my mother shakes her head checking to make sure the pockets are empty, “You’re cold, here grab a blanket,” my mother frets, stepping away and grabbing a blanket from the couch, wrapping it around me like a little kid. 

“Thanks, Mum,” I smile at her before I kiss her cheek. “I appreciate you, how was your day?” 

“Clearly better than yours,” My mum grins and I nod my head in agreement. I think most people have had a better day than I have. “I spent it inside reading and helping your sister sew, I don’t know why she wants to sew but she doesn’t need to be near my sewing machine,” my mother chuckles sweetly to herself. 

I can only imagine how it turned out with my sister sewing or attempting to sew. My sister is very talented but there are just some things she shouldn’t even try, sewing and most crafts are not one.

“I’d take teaching her to sew over what I had to do, any day.” 

“What did you have to do?” 

I shake my head, “I can’t talk about it, I’m not allowed to… maybe later I can tell you, just not right now,” I respond. 

My mother nods her head and shrugs, she knows there are some things better left unsaid, and today is one of them, “Anastasia has been quiet, slept most the day, I think something is wrong.” 

“Is she still unwell? I’ll check on her.” 

“She didn’t seem too well, but we did talk a little about the wedding. She is excited about it, by the way, but she hasn’t had a chance to try on dresses.” 

“I’ll take care of it, if it ever stops raining, I have a plan.” 

“And that is?” My mother questions curiously. 

“I’ll tell you more In the morning, goodnight, Mum.” I cheekily grin, folding up the blanket and placing it down before walking into the kitchen to make a tea. 

♔♔♔ 

I enter my bedroom and close the door behind me silently, just in case Anastasia is sound asleep. I observe Anna curled up in the bed, the comforter wrapped around her, “Hey,” she smiles tiredly towards me. 

“Hey, Mum said you still weren’t feeling well, thought I’d bring you a tea,” I hold up the mug, stepping closer to her and sitting on the edge of the bed beside her while she sits up. 

“Thanks, where have you been?” 

I grow withdrawn for a moment, unsure of what to tell her, I didn’t think of the cover story that I would tell her, it didn’t cross my mind. I have been too busy to thin about what to tell her.  “Harry?” She takes the cup from my hand and narrows her eyes down on me. 

“I’m not allowed to talk about.” 

“But…” 

“I was with your Dad, he says hi,” I inform her of her father’s request. The brief times I did manage to speak to him, he was insistent that I make sure I pass his message on, “He loves you and can’t wait to give you a hug.” 

“Sounds shady.” 

She isn't wrong, it is ALL shady; I would prefer to forget about the last few nights that have occurred.

“That’s because it is,” I nod my head, “It isn’t getting any better at this point.”

“I told you I think he’s losing his mind.” 

“I would be too if I had angry people coming after me,” I mutter, “But it's okay,” I quickly assure her, not wanting to scare her any further or cause her more stress. I am doing my best to destress her situations and fix things. 

Anastasia heavily sighs and rolls her eyes, “Is there a way to fix the mess he has created?” 

“Sort of.” 

“Then why don’t we do it?” 

“Anna—“ 

“Don’t leave me in the dark, Harry, it isn’t fair. I’m just as affected by this mess.” 

“You really don’t want to know my solution.” 

“Why? Why are we not going ahead with the solution.” 

“It’s highly illegal.” 

“I’m not sure I understand.” 

“Anastasia… How do you deal with people who have too much power, such as those in the mafia or with affiliations with the mafia?” 

“I don’t know, Harry. Stop cat and mousing me, tell me your plan.” Anna snaps before pressing her fingers to her temple and rubbing her temple. 

I wish I could fix things for her and give her a normal life. I am doing my best but right now, I am failing. 

I sigh as she takes a sip of her tea, “Anna… fight fire with fire…” 

Her eyes burn with hatred as she glares towards me, her lips screwed into irritation, “You’re being annoying.” 

“Jus’ don’t worry about it, okay?” I lean over and kiss her forehead. “Let me handle it.” 

“I don’t like how you’re handling it.” 

“Well, I am sorry. How are you feeling?” 

“You’re changing the subject,” Anastasia is prompt to point out the obvious. 

There are some things that are better left unsaid. Where I was and what I was doing is best unknown at the moment. 

“What happened to you? What’s on your shirt?” Anastasia leans forward and presses her hand to my shirt, looking closely. 

I look down and grab the white material between my fingers, stretching it so I can what Anna is looking at.

Fuck. 

“Oh, Matthew accidentally cut himself trying to open a box and I guess he got his blood on me, no big deal,” I lie straight to her face, beginning to unbutton my shirt, wasting no time with sliding it down my arms as I stand to my feet. 

“Do you want to lie to me again?”

“No, but I need to talk to you about something, some of your jewellery has been taken.” 

Anastasia doesn’t respond and I turn to gaze at her over my shoulder, “Anna?” 

“I heard you. There’s nothing I can do, it is just jewellery.” 

“I will get it back for you, I will do my best, darling, I promise.” 

“You got mail, it is on the dresser over there,” Anastasia points to the dresser and I step closer to it, taking the envelopes in my hand. 

“These are for you,” I inform her, looking down at the envelopes that seem familiar, they’re dressed as they would be If they were going to the palace for her to read and reply back with, but there is something odd about the envelopes, they’re all the same with the same handwriting but one is addressed to me. “Where did you get these?” 

“Your sister said they were in the mail, I haven’t opened it, I assumed mine were letters from the public for me to read and reply to, I just haven’t had the energy to do it.” 

“No, but how did they get here?” 

“I am guessing my carrier, Harry,” Anastasia responds, “How else would they get here? Throw me mine so I know whether I need to reply to them.” 

I shake my head, flipping the letters over and seeing that there is no return address, “Baby, these aren’t forwarded from the Palace,” I inform her, placing hers back down on the dresser and sliding my finger through the edge of the one addressed to me. 

“How do you know?” 

“I didn’t give the Palace a forwarding address for your mail.”

“Why not? I still have duties to attend to.” 

“First of all, you’re sick and don’t need to be worrying about it, second of all, it isn’t safe to have mail forwarded because then people will know where you are.” 

“You don’t need to tell me what I need to be worrying about,” Anastasia responds, not too pleased with my comment. 

“Okay,” I sigh, “Fair point, I was out of line, but nobody needs to know where you are right now,” I return, unfolding my letter and opening it up to read what it says. 

“I know about you and Anastasia, you can run but you can’t hide.” 

I take a breath and fold the letter back up, grabbing Anastasia’s as well in my hand. “What are the letters for?” 

I rub a hand over my dark stubble before shaking my head, “Nothing, I’m going to take a shower.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with my father.” 

“What?” I question as Anastasia pushes the covers off her body and gets out of bed. 

“You heard me, you’re acting just as shady as he is, and quite honestly, I don’t like it.” 

“You’re paranoid, go back to bed,” I respond, stepping into the bathroom and flicking the light on, only for Anastasia to follow me. “Are you joining me in the shower?” I raise a brow cheekily, attempting to distract her from the argument she is most likely ready to create— she has a valid reason for being irritated and wanting answers, but I don’t need her to worry. I don’t want her to be consumed even further by what is happening or by what could happen. 

I am trying my best to protect her from the shit show that is currently going on, she has dealt with more than enough and at this point, I am going to do everything that I can to not push her over the fucking edge. I know she is close to the edge and I will be damned if she goes over it. 

“I don’t think I am paranoid, Harry. I don’t like this. Why can’t you be honest with me?” Anastasia questions while I turn the knob to begin the water to heat up. 

I turn to face her and I step closer to her, “I am being honest, believe me when I say there are some things better left unknown, please don’t make this harder than what it already is.” 

Anastasia pulls her hand away from my own and stares at me relentlessly, “Seems like everything is left unknown until it boils into something bad that can’t be hidden.” 

I nod my head, “What is it you want to know?” 

“Where were you?” 

“With your Father. We had to have a private conversation, can I have my shower now?” 

“This conversation isn’t over,” Anastasia dismisses me and I heavily sigh as she storms out of the bathroom. 

This is bound to be an interesting night. Just when I thought that things could possibly settle down, I now have to face her. I lean on the vanity and stare into the mirror, taking in deep breaths in an attempt to think things through in a way that won’t destroy her.  

I am not sure how to explain the mail, unfortunately, this isn’t the first letter I have received in the last month or so, I don’t think it will be the last, but I do know that it seems like whoever is sending these letters knows my every move. Nobody knows that we are here beside her parents and Matthew, the new guy doesn't even know, Matthew put him on paid leave until we need him. The only thing I can think of is someone within the palace staff has managed to figure things out and is trying to leak information… I highly doubt her parents would be behind the letters, although that would be a plot twist, I can’t say that it wouldn’t be something that could happen, after all, nothing seems to be off the table at this point. It is time I tell Matthew about the mail I have been receiving, and it is time for us to come up with a plan to figure out who is behind it all. At first, I didn’t think much of it all, but now with them sending things to my mother's house, it shows they are watching me- they’re watching Anna. 

I pick up the envelope with Anastasia’s name on the front of it and I open it, holding my breath with every inch of the paper that rips between my fingers. I take the piece of paper out, slowly unfolding it before I read the ink scribbled on the paper. 

“I know about you and Harry… It will all be revealed soon. Stay alert, Princess, you’re next.”

I fold the letter back up and I place it in the envelope, not wanting to even see what the other one says. I believe these are empty threats by someone bored and lonely, probably a normal civilian, but at the same time, there is a part of me that is concerned it is one of the people who Is after her father. They’re not going to stop until the Ace’s get what they want and the King refuses to give up his power and money to them. He has paid his dues and that isn’t enough for that money-hungry family. 

It could be Henry, I wouldn’t be too surprised if he is the one behind this, but I have this feeling the reasons for his previous behaviours weren't based on his logical thinking but more so his mothers. I think his mother was behind a lot of his erratic and psychotic behaviour, I think his mother is the true evil one. I am not remorseful that she is no longer living, quite honestly, it was just a matter of time before she did more damage to Anastasia’s family. Anna doesn’t know this, but I have been watching Victoria from the moment I met her at the Garden party. On my off days, I would do my best to follow her in an attempt to figure her out, she didn’t do many things out of the ordinary, but there were a few red flags that I did take note off, none of which were enough to build too much against her in such a short time. Matthew did his best to keep track of Henry and Victoria and the one thing we can’t seem to figure out is… Who is Henry’s father? 

There is no name attached to the man that the King was talking to, there was never a man around at the Garden event that introduced himself as Henry’s father. I have tried to look up birth certificates but I can’t find Henry’s, I can’t even find Victoria’s marriage certificate. 

I push away from the vanity and take my suit pants off, dropping my clothes to the floor before getting in the shower. The steaming hot water hits my body and I feel a sense of stress leaving my body for a brief moment. My body isn’t cold and shivering and all the negative things that I have dealt with in the last two days are washing down the drain, hopefully, to never return. 

My shower wasn’t as peaceful as I had hoped, my thoughts kept reminding me of everything happening, almost to the point I wish I had an excuse to call the nurse for more morphine, although my shoulder is still painful, there is no way the King or Matthew will allow me to sleep peacefully with morphine and no pain and no worries. Oh, how I took it for granted to be able to sleep all day and not deal with the issues happening in the Royal world. 

I step out of the shower and Anastasia is leaning on the doorframe with a blanket wrapped around her body, I raise a brow but I do not say anything as she watches me reach for my towel and wrap it around my lower body. From the way her lips are pressed firmly together and the way her eyes watch my every move, she isn’t watching me because she finds me charming and good looking, no, she is watching me because she has things to say or she is trying to read me in an attempt to figure shit out. 

I shuffle closer to her and press a kiss to her cheek as I slide past her, still not saying a word. I step towards the clothes my mother bought me and I pull out a clean pair of sweatpants, wasting no time with pulling them up my legs before running the towel through my hair to dry it briefly. I place the towel in the hamper and glance over to Anastasia who has her arms crossed over her chest. “How’d you get the blood on your white shirt? That is going to be hard to get out.” Anastasia gestures towards the shirt I let fall to the floor before I went into the bathroom. 

I heavily sigh as I pick it up from the floor, “I told you.” 

“That was a lie, you and I know that.” 

“Anastasia, please don’t,” I shake my head. I don’t want to explain today to her. 

“You’re unbelievable.” 

“Please, don’t be mad with me, it is for your own-“ 

Anastasia rolls her eyes, “Jus’ don’t worry about it,” Anastasia cuts me off, “I hope you’re not turning into my father, I really don’t.” Anastasia informs me as she walks into the bathroom. 

“Anna, don’t be angry with me,” I slump my shoulders as she closes the door. 

I fall to the edge of the bed and run my fingers through my hair. I have fucked up with not telling her, I do not blame her for being upset, but as I have said, it is for her safety. I am not sure who I am attempting to convince more, myself or her. 

It is hard to draw a line between my job and being her partner, sometimes there isn’t even a line, sometimes I have to choose which one I want to take the role of. 

After a few minutes of staring at the bathroom door, waiting for her to exit, I force myself to my feet and walk to the door, I knock on the door, “Anna? I know you’re mad but you don’t need to lock yourself in the bathroom.” … “Anna? Are you okay?” I question, getting no response before I take it upon myself to open the door. 

I see Anastasia resting on the floor with her back against the bathtub, “The world doesn’t revolve around you,” she half chuckles, “Do you really think I would lock myself in here because I am mad?” 

“Well… I-, I I am an idiot, we know this already… You okay?” 

“I have never been better, I mean, after all, I have no clue what is happening with anything, I fell over a dead body, I have been whisked away from my home indefinitely because people are after my father, and to top it off, my soon to be husband is acting weird and shady.” 

“I meant how you felt.” 

Anastasia simply shakes her head and I sit down beside her, I slip my arm around her lower back and she rests her head on my shoulder, “Not trying to argue with you, or be mad with you, Harry.” Anastasia softly whispers, “I just hate all of this. I don’t want you to be like Dad.”

“I know, baby, I know,” I nod my head even though she can’t see me. “I do too. I am not your Dad. I just work for him and take his orders.” 

“Are we going to get through all of this, Harry?” 

“We will, it’ll all be okay,” I assure her, attempting to comfort her even though I don’t know what’ll happen next. I can’t tell her that it’ll be smooth sailing from here because I don’t know if it will, but I do know that she and I will be okay. 

“You’re not going to want to leave?” 

“Of course not, nothing your father causes will make me want to leave. I’m here for the long haul, I’m here to hold your hair when you’re sick, even if you’re mad at me,” I inform her and she gently nudges me. 

“I’m not mad,” she mumbles. 

I’m here to be a shoulder you can cry on, I’m here for it all. I’m here for all the good times and the bad times, I’m here for as long as you’ll have me. I’m in this completely. I hate that you’re doubting me though.” 

“Everything is just a mess.” 

“It’ll all be okay, do you want to get in bed? It’s a bit warmer than these cold tiles.” 

“No, I feel sick.” 

“Okay, we will stay here,” I respond, kissing the top of her head. 

“You can go to bed, I’ll be fine.”

“And what fun will that be? Won’t have you to steal the covers,” I half-heartedly joke with her, trying my best to lighten the mood. “Plus, when the wife says to go back to bed, you never go back to bed, it’s a catch. Never leave the wife when she’s unwell.” 

“You left me today.” 

“I had to and you were asleep.” 

“Left your sick fiancé to see my father.” 

“Your father pays my bills,” I respond with a small laugh. 

“Mhm,” Anastasia hums, “Do you love me enough to go to the store and get me anti-nausea meds? this is horrible.” 

“I would, but everything closes out here at ten. We can call your royal doctor, she has all sorts of great meds.” 

“You really love her, don’t ye’?” Anastasia finally manages to giggle, “Must have been some strong stuff,” she nudges me playfully. 

“The best sleep of my life, she had me feeling great for the first two days. Then reality hit.” 

“I don’t want to bother her, she’ll have to drive up here and it’s too much of a hassle.” … “I’ll survive. So… will you tell me what’s in those envelopes up there?” 

“Nope.” I honestly respond. 

“Nothing is stopping me from getting up and grabbing them.” 

“You don’t have the energy for that, if you did, you’d have done it already.” 

“Fair point,” Anastasia agrees, “I’m sorry about earlier and throwing a fit.” 

“You have every right to feel how you do and want answers, but it’s in your best interest not to know them, it’ll stress you out, I rather if you let me stress over it instead, okay?” 

“It’s hard. Harry. I feel like everything is crumbling around me. I can handle it, I don’t need to be protected.” 

“It is crumbling, I won’t lie, it is a shit show.” 

“Way to go in being comforting.” 

“I won’t lie to you about it, everything is crumbling around us but at the end of the day, you’re safe, your parents are safe and it’ll all be okay.” 

“You keep saying that… who are you trying to convince? You or myself?” 

“Both,” I respond in all honesty. “Love, I want us to have an open communication, I don’t want us to hide things.”  

“Well, that is a little far fetched considering your job, darling,” Anastasia points out. 

I can’t say she is wrong, she has a valid point, but she is missing what I am trying to say, “I do my best to communicate, I only hide things when I need too,” … “Not that it makes it any better, I just-, I want you to know I am doing my best with balancing both and I am not trying to hide things, I just have to sometimes…” 

“Shhh, I know, quit fretting, I get it, I do. It is frustrating, but I understand, I just had a moment earlier, Harry. No need to keep worrying over it.” 

I let out a breath of relief and hold her a little closer to me, grateful that we have the sort of relationship where we can talk things out, we might get mad, but we don’t give up, we come to terms with things, we consider each other’s feelings and we get through it. 

“Harry, we do need to talk about our marriage though.” 

“What about it?” 

“How it will affect you… Harry, I will be Queen within the next year, my father wanted to hand it over by the end of the year, December isn’t too far off, I don’t know whether he still will pass it down but if he does, your life changes unless we continue to keep it quiet.” 

“Well, since Henry isn’t married to you, I don’t think you will be becoming Queen. The whole point was for Henry to gain a higher title than what he already has. And, if you do become Queen, we will cross that bridge when we get there, I think we should hold off going public, but your family should at least know.” 

“You okay with just taking it day-by-day to see what happens with the crown?” 

I’m not sure why she has so many doubts when I have done my best to reassure her, I can only thank my sister for this one. Anastasia wasn’t this doubtful until meeting my sister. 

“Of course,” I nod my head, “But, do I get to wear a crown and a robe like they do in movies?” 

“What the fuck kind of movies do you watch? No, Harry. You don’t get to walk around with a crown and a cape. Do I walk around with a crown on?” Anastasia questions. 

“No… You never wear a tiara, why?” 

"Single ladies don't typically wear tiaras unless they are born into the Royal Family as a princess. Tiaras are not worn before 6 p.m.. They are worn on formal white tie events and state occasions such as state banquets. For the most part, I have skipped these events up until the last two years, which, my mother and father have not given me a tiara to wear… Once I am married or Queen, I will wear one or I can wear a crown.” Anastasia informs me on the etiquette of crowns and tiaras. I don’t know the difference between the two, and due to not wanting to sound like a moron, I don’t want to ask her what the difference is. 

“So… I don’t get a crown?” I curiously question. 

I don’t give a flying fuck on whether I am entitled to wear a crown or not. I’m not in this for the family jewels, the crowns, estates or anything. Quite frankly, none of that means a bloody thing to me, I’m in this for Anna. 

“You can wear a gold coronet.”

I gasp, “I don’t want a knockoff crown.” I respond, unsure of what a coronet is, but it sounds close enough to a crown. I can only assume it’s a step down from a crown. 

“Fine,” Anna chuckles, “I will bestow upon you a crown you can wear. I am sure there is one in the family, we have many jewels and crowns.” 

“Great, and can I also require a robe?” 

Anna laughs, “Don’t push your luck.”

“Can I have my own crown?” 

“For my coronation, the royal jeweller can make you your bloody crown.” 

“They should match, somehow… You know?” 

I wonder how long she’ll keep this conversation with me, I don’t mean any of it, like I’ve said, I don’t give a rats ass about the crown, I’m currently trying to keep her occupied in an attempt to make her feel better. 

“I love how you’re more interested in your crown than the fact you will have a lot of power.” 

“How will I have power?” 

I have enough power as it is, any more and it might get to my head. 

“Sweetheart, everyone will have to curtsey to you… Every member of the royal family will have to bow or curtsy to you…. But the future Queen thinks it’s time for bed, sitting on this cold floor isn’t going to cut it.” 

I stand to my feet and offer my hand to help her up, she presses her hand with my own and I gently pull her to her feet, “I do have another question though regarding the royal ways,” I begin. 

“Mhm,” Anna hums as we begin to walk out of the bathroom and into my bedroom. 

“If we were to have kids…. How do we raise them?” 

“Already anticipating children?” 

“No, you mentioned while I was carrying you out of the tunnel that we weren’t having kids, but if we do… do we have to raise them royally?” 

“Uhm….” Anastasia pauses to think for a moment, looking over at me, “We will decide how we raise our children, I will leave the monarch before I allow them to tell me what to do with our hypothetical children. If I’m Queen, I call the shots.” 

“Mhm…. And will they be raised in a royal way? Will they have a title?”

“Unless we choose otherwise…. I don’t know if I want kids to have to go through what I have as a royal. I wouldn’t strip them of their title but I don’t know… it’s something to think about after we are married, we’ve barely managed that yet.” … “Let’s just go to bed,” Anastasia smiles over at me and I nod my head with a smile. 

I’m more than happy to get in bed and fall between the sheets with her beside me, but I am distracted by my phone vibrating against the side table. I walk over to it and read the messages on my screen, “I’ll be back in a minute,” I inform Anna before I step out of the bedroom and walk down the hallway to the front door. 

I open the front door and stare at Matthew, “Look, Matthew, if you want me to leave again, I’m not, I haven’t slept much in the last 48 hours, Anna’s sick and I’m not going to—“ 

“Relax,” Matthew interrupts me, “I’m not on your doorstep for another job, I’m here to tell you I’m patrolling the house and watching so you can relax.” 

“Oh.” 

“But I’m glad you’re defensive and don’t want to leave your girlfriend while she’s sick, it’s kinda cute when you’re not the dick of a security guard.” 

“Knock it off, you’re making me sound soft.” 

“You are,” Matthew chuckles, “At least with her, it’s good, you’re getting softer and better at being her partner and not her security guard.” Matthew points out and I nod my head. It’s a transition sometimes to go from a security guard who can’t show much emotion to her boyfriend. 

“Are you done?” I laugh. 

Mathew nods, “Is she okay?” 

“She’s fine, with everything that has happened, her being a little under the weather is a better outcome than her emotionally spiralling, I think it’s the stress that has finally caught up with her.” 

“Does she need the doctor?” 

“No,” I shake my head, “I will put letters in the letterbox, I need you to take them, read them, and find out who’s sending them. They know I’m here and I don’t want to take any chances. They’re involving Anna now,” I inform Matthew of all the letters that I’ve received over the month, plus the ones Anastasia saw that were sent to my mother's house. 

I’ve done my best to keep the letters to myself and Matthew, not wanting to make something out of nothing. 

“Do you have any leads yet?” 

“No… I assume the Ace’s but Victoria is dead so that leaves who? Henry? His unknown father? Their mob? Matthew, the mafia aren’t people I want on my ass or the crooked government officials the king knows.”

“I’ll see what I can find out, just keep her safe and inside.” 

I nod my head, having no intentions of stepping outside with her unless it’s the back garden. “If you don’t mind, I’m going back inside where it’s warm.” 

“Try not to get too soft on me while I’m out here patrolling and keeping your ass safe.” 

“Ya, about time you watch my ass instead of me watching yours,” I respond before stepping back into the house. 

A Few Days Later.

I overhear the sound of the glass doors open as I stand on the back porch, gazing at the garden that is beginning to frail and change colours with the changing of seasons. I turn around and offer my mother a small smile as she closes the door behind her, but she doesn’t smile back at me. 

I cock my head to the side and watch as she fidgets with her hands, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip— she wants to say something, but she doesn’t know-how. 

“Just spit it out,” I distract her from her anxiousness. 

She shakes her head and sits down on the patio furniture, crossing her leg over her knee before tapping her fingers on the armrest, “I know I’m not allowed to ask but…” my mother trials off and I raise a brow, unsure of what question she’s about to ask. All I can gather is that it’s about my job. She’s aware I can’t discuss everything with her, but that doesn’t always mean she doesn’t attempt to ask. “I saw your shirt.” 

“What shirt?” 

“The one you wore the other night.” 

Oh, fuck. Here we go with that white fucking shirt. 

I nod my head, gesturing for her to continue. “It isn’t your blood, if it was then you’d have a wound.” 

“Who says I don’t?” I question, catching my mum off guard. 

My mother stares at me and narrows her eyes down onto me, she’s not thrilled and doesn’t want to participate in my sarcasm and half-assed answers. My mother stands to her feet, steps closer and takes it upon herself to lift my shirt, inspecting my body. 

I gently push her hand away, “If you don’t mind, it’s quite chilly,” I adjust my shirt to cover my torso. 

“Harry—“

“Mum,” I cut her off, “I already had it out with Anastasia over this, please don’t ask questions or read into this.” 

My mother shakes her head at me, “I can’t just not read into it… Surely there’s an explanation.” 

I nod my head, “There is, but I can’t give it to you.” 

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have blood-stained shirts in the laundry for me to wash.” 

“I love you, and I appreciate everything you do for me… But, in my defence, I didn’t ask you to wash my clothes or that shirt, I was meant to throw it away. But apparently, everyone wants to see it.” 

“I’m not a fan of this.” 

“Join the club, you and Anastasia can have weekly meetings about it,” I mutter before heavily sighing, “Look, maybe later I can discuss things with you, but right now I can’t. On other news, since the wedding people are setting up, I’d really appreciate it if you and Gemma could participate in this… Help Anastasia pick a dress and get an idea of what she wants.” 

My mother glares at me, “I know you planned this.” 

“What?” 

“You have a wedding designer here bringing in dresses and everything else to keep her mind off of whatever the hell you’ve been up to and whatever it is you’re planning to do.” 

“While you are helping her with a dress, I’ll simply be doing paperwork,” I inform my mother, covering the fact that she’s partially correct. I had planned to surprise Anna with a wedding dress designer for a while, it just happened that right now suites all scenarios, it’ll keep her occupied and away from social media and it’ll give me time to do ‘paperwork.’ 

Of course, my paperwork will include doing some investigating on the Ace’s and the mafia they’re involved with, along with figuring out the whole situation with Victoria in the tunnels, and if I have enough time, I will hopefully manage to figure out where the fuck we are going to go from here. Anastasia and I can’t stay with my mother forever, at some point we will have to move Anna back to Buckingham or one of the other palaces. With us getting married, I’d think it’s suitable that we have a proper conversation about where we plan to live, obviously she’s going to want to choose Buckingham or the palace in Ireland but I think we should have a nice place away from the royal family, perhaps a little cottage. We need a place that’s just for me and her that has no royal affiliation to it. 

“When exactly are you getting married and where?” 

“Where and whenever she picks.” 

“Aren’t you concerned they’ll tell the media?” 

“Confidentiality contract,” I respond, “I’m going to go check on Anastasia,” I dismiss the conversation, mainly because my mothers dagger eyes brutally murder me and I can’t stand it. 

I walk inside and make my way down the hallway catching Anastasia just as she’s stepping out of the bedroom, “Good morning,” I smile, kissing her cheek instantly before bringing her into a warm embrace. She mumbles a good morning into me and I chuckle. “How are you feeling? I just put the kettle on for tea.” 

“I feel a lot better, still a little nauseous but it’s bearable.” 

“You look better than the last few days, no offence... I have a surprise for you,” I inform her, watching as she looks at me with curiosity. 

“Mhm, what is it?” Anastasia hums. 

I intertwine her fingers with mine and lead her to the end of the hallway where the dress designer has been setting up. I open the door and step in the room, allowing Anastasia to see the countless wedding dresses on wracks lined against the wall, “Anastasia, this is Charlotte, a creative director of a luxury fashion house. She will assist you with dresses and if you can’t find one will help design one, if you wish. Charlotte, this is my soon to be wife, Anastasia,” I introduce the two ladies, stepping back as they greet each other. 

“I brought a few dresses for you to look at, try on and see what you like if none of them works we can literally go to the drawing board, whatever you envision is, is what I want to create,” Charlotte sweetly informs Anastasia, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t curtesy,” Charlotte stammers and I can’t help but chuckle to myself. 

It never gets old when people get bent out of shape over curtseying. “Please,” Anna quickly shakes her head, “There’s no need, I’m not a princess, I’m just someone who wants the perfect dress,” Anastasia informs Charlotte. 

“I’ll leave you two to it… Mum and Gemma will come in and help if you’re okay with that, thought you might want some company?” 

“That would be really nice, thank you for this,” Anastasia smiles towards me before stepping closer to me and kissing my lips. 

It’s the least I could do. All she wants is a sense of normalcy, she doesn’t want the big fancy royal wedding with spectators, she isn’t asking for more than having a dress and getting married. I’ll do everything I can to make sure she gets the wedding of her dreams, even if it’s a small ceremony in the back yard with the sheep. 

Anastasia pulls on my hand as I go to walk out and I stop on my tracks, she grows quiet for a moment before leaning up and whispering, “I don’t know if I can afford a designer dress, Harry, without dipping into the royal—“ 

I gently cut her off with a kiss, “Money isn’t a factor.” 

“But.” 

“It’s covered, no matter what you pick, it’s covered. Get the dress of your dreams, don't worry about money or whether the royals will pay for it, I have it covered.” 

“Harry—“ 

I shake my head, “Don’t worry,” I kiss her lips again before walking out of the room, well aware that she’ll stand there and argue with me all day if I’d let her. 

While Anastasia is occupied with the wedding with my mother and sister to soon be right behind her, I slip out of the house and make my way to the parked car on the street. I open the door and relax on the passenger side, “Bloody Hell, do you not know what heat is?” I challenge Matthew with a gasp, leaning forward and turning the heat on, “Seriously, I know you’re older but heat was invented many years ago,” I continue, pressing my hand to the vents. 

“Harry, it is not that cold.” 

“There’s frost on the grass, it is ten degrees this morning.” I point out the fact the grass is insignificantly wet and there is a slight mist of fog lingering from the overnight temperatures.

“Well, put on a jacket,” Mathew smirks, “Besides the point, you’re late, the King has already called.” 

“I had to occupy Anna… I am glad I missed the call, I don’t even want to know what he wants now.” 

I am starting to have this yearning of avoiding the King at all costs, but I obviously can’t, he pays my bills and I am in love with his daughter. I will never get away from him. 

“You don’t get to pick and choose when he is the boss.”

I sigh and look at Mathew, “Anna is being weird with me since I won’t tell her what happened, I can’t do more shady shit,” I inform Mathew, “At least let me marry her before causing problems, she is less likely to leave if we are married.”

Mathew laughs and shakes his head, “That sounds like a great relationship. Either tell her or lie.”

“I don’t want to do either. The king said he would kill us if we told anyone...”

The King was very specific with his instructions. 

“He can’t hurt a fly, he has us do his dirty work, Harry. Do what I do.”

“Lie?” I question, unsure of what he tells his wife when he suddenly has to leave or when he is never home. 

“Tell her you can't talk about things because what was discussed is confidential.” 

“That would be great but my future wife is the future Queen and she saw the blood on my shirt, that is the issue. She wants to know where the blood came from.” 

“Next time, get rid of evidence you moron,” Mathew shakes his head, “Look, tell her someone was hit by  a car and you saved them.” 

“Oh, yes, let me dig myself into more of a hole,” I huff, looking down at my phone and scrolling through my contacts, “The private detective I hired to keep an eye on Henry hasn’t found anything, Henry has been staying at a cottage an hour outside London. A small two-bedroom cottage and a vegetable patch.” 

“Where?” 

“ Singleton, but I don’t know why he has tried to go off the radar and hide… Took a while for the lead.” 

“And what are you going to do with this lead?” Mathew asks. 

“Well, nothing. I can’t do anything, if I do, it would be stupid, he would instantly link me to Victoria’s death, I have to stay quiet… Plus, he isn’t doing anything. Actually, do you think he had anything to do with Victoria’s death?” I curiously begin to question. 

There isn’t much of reasons for Henry to suddenly go into hiding, I didn’t threaten him besides when he tried to take Anna’s horse, he got away with his psychotic behaviour, in fact, I think the King gave back the horse without Anastasia knowing— not that she would care— I don’t think she will ever get on a horse again. 

Mathew stares at me for a moment and thinks, “Unlikely, it is his mother, what motive would he have? Ask the detective where he was that night, plus, nobody knows about Victoria yet, there haven’t even been reports of her missing, the media is quiet.” 

“A little too quiet,” I mutter, “Anyway, what did the King have to say?” 

“We are on media duty, we need to leak a story or two.” 

“What are we leaking?” I ask.

“This is the part you’re not going to like… He wants to use Anastasia as a decoy from everything. He wants the media and the people to believe that she has stepped away from the palace to focus more on her royal duties privately and to better grasp things.”

I roll my eyes, “Not the first time he uses her as a decoy. Why can’t the actual Queen be used? Why is it, Anna?” 

“Well, the Queen isn’t as popular, quite frankly, at this point, nobody gives a damn what the Queen does. Everyone is interested in Anastasia, you are aware she will be Queen soon? She is big news.” 

“Whatever,” I hum, “So we have to leak stories that aren’t true to suit the King’s narrative? Can you do it? I don’t want Anna hating me much more. I don’t want a divorce before I m even married.” I ask Matthew as he begins to drive up the road. 

“I can,” he nods, “But you have to take the next call from the King.” 

I agree and nod my head, taking the file on his dashboard and beginning to read through it to get an understanding of what the King wants and what exactly we need to do. 

[backtobackbakubabe]

I’m Gonna Make This Place Your Home (part 2)

Bakugo X Reader

She’s just my roommate. 

Words: 2810

*****************************************************************************************************

He sipped on his third coffee as he scrolled through article after article on his laptop. It was almost noon and you were still sound asleep. He'd let you sleep as long as you needed. 

He had woken up with your back firmly pressed against his chest and his arm snug around your waist. He hated pulling away from you but he had to remind himself that he didn't know you and this was probably the last thing you needed. You had been a prisoner almost your whole life. You didn't need someone like him in your life. Someone harsh and angry. You had had enough of that already, he had seen it in your dream. He would be an asshole if he tried anything with you. So he would have to settle for slightly over protective roommate. 

He was looking for any article that might be linked to you. Trying to find out more about you, anything that would confirm your story. Not that he didn't trust you, but he just needed to know. He had been looking for almost an hour and he couldnt find anything. He already knew you weren't going to be on any social media. But he couldn't find any articles about a kidnapping or a missing persons report. To be fair he didn't have much to go on. All he had was your first name. He didnt even know how old you were. 

He was about to give up when something caught his eye. 

It was picture of you. You were very young maybe 5 or 6, but it was definitely you. 

Childs mother accused of selling her daughter and making it look like a kidnapping. Police found a suspicious amount of money that had been transferred to the mothers bank account only two days before her daughter was supposedly kidnapped. The transaction was untraceable, leading the police to believe that it was an illegal transaction of some kind. The daughter is on record for being an early bloomer who’s quirk is dream related. Such a quirk would be very dangerous in the wrong hands. The detective who made the original report on the kidnapping is now under investigation as well for corrupting evidence and tampering with the crime scene to help it fit the mothers story. 

And he thought he had a shitty mom... He couldnt help but stare at the picture. You looked so happy. You had braided pigtails and a goofy smile, showing off your missing teeth. You were so young... You had no idea that you your life was about to turn to shit. You didn't know what your life was going to become. It wasn’t fair... You didn't deserve this. The little girl in this picture deserved a chance to be a kid, to grow up, to be normal. But that was taken away from you. You would never get that time back. 

Thanks to the article he now knew how old you were, only about a year and a half younger than him. He cringed at the thought that while he and Deku were out exploring as children you were being forced to work for villains.  

He slammed his laptop shut when he heard you tip toeing into the kitchen. Still only wearing his oversized hoodie and boxers. Your hair was now in a messy bun and you looked adorable. You were only in the kitchen for a few seconds before you came out with a cup of coffee. 

You sat down on the couch next to him criss cross style. You gave your cup a weird look as you smelled it. 

“What? Did I make it too strong or something?” 

You gave him an embarrassed look, “I’ve actually never had coffee... I’ve always wanted to though. There was this book I read once, when I was probably around.. I don’t know thirteen. This girl met her soul mate at a coffee shop. She had written her number down on a napkin but he accidentally threw it away. Then he ended up going there every day in the hopes that he’d see her again. At the same time she was coming back to find him, but they kept missing each other. He ended up finding her again because she had a really weird coffee order and he heard someone call it out at the coffee shop. ” You shrugged, “I know it’s just a drink and its so stupid but...I don’t know.”

Bakugo stood up and took the cup out of your hands, “Well you’re not going to drink this shit then. Come on put some pants on. We’ll go out and get some real coffee.” 

You tried not to be nervous as you walked a few blocks to the coffee shop. Bakugo was with you. Nothing would happen. You kept looking over your shoulder expecting someone to jump out and say ‘Gotcha’. Bakugo could sense you were a bit stressed so he put an arm around your shoulder and leaned in, “It’s okay to be cautious. You have every right to be. But you cant live your life in fear. As long as you’re with me you’re safe. Got it?”

You nodded taking a moment to enjoy his caramel scent invading your personal space, “Got it.” 

You kept having to stop every so often and pull you pants up because it didn’t matter how tight you tied your borrowed sweatpants, they were just too big. Bakugo noticed this and paused. “Ok so clothes first or coffee first? You look a bit uncomfortable. I can can get you some clothes that actually fit you.”

You hugged yourself, “I wouldn't mind some pants... maybe a few shirts. But I actually really like this hoodie. Do you think we could get me one.”

Bakugo gave you a soft smile, “If you like it that much you can have it. Its just an old UA hoodie. I have tons of them.” 

You gave him a beaming smile and a quick nod, “Thank you! I’m going to wear it everyday!”

He just laughed at you, “Really it’s no problem. It’s probably best if you wash it every once in a while though. So clothes first or coffee?” 

You didn't even hesitate, “Coffee!” 

A few minutes later you both were standing in line in the cutest little cafe. The menu was huge and overwhelming. You nervously tugged at your hoodie sleeve, looking back and forth at the expansive menu. 

Bakugo saw your eyes dart back and forth over the menu, “That side of the menu is all tea. This side over here is all coffee. For your first time I would go with something sweet. Are there any flavors you prefer?”

You blushed, “I’ve recently been craving caramel.” He didn't need to know that that was purely based on the fact that he smelled like caramel last night when he was holding you when he thought you were asleep.

He nodded as you approached the front of the line, “Two hot caramel lattes, biggest ones you’ve got. And if you could add some cinnamon that'd be great thanks.” 

The girl behind the counter gave Bakugo a bright smile that made you uncomfortable. She looked crazy... why is she looking at him like that? “Is there anything else I can get for you? Anything at all?”

 You looked at him as he handed over some money to pay for your drinks. He seemed like he wasn’t paying her any attention. “No that’ll be it, oh wait! Y/n did you want anything to eat? Muffin? Croissant? Bagel?”

You bit your lip, “A muffin sounds amazing.” 

He smiled, “Yeah I agree.” He turned back to the girl behind the counter his smile disappearing, “Please add two blueberry muffins to my order.”

The girls smile faltered as she turned to look at you. Obviously not impressed with what she saw. “Of course, we’ll have that right out to you.” She rolled her eyes as soon as she didn't think Bakugo was looking, but you saw it and you had no idea what you could possibly have done to upset this complete stranger. 

You chose a cozy looking corner that had a couch and a little table. You were basically buzzing with excitement. You jumped up when you heard them call your order. You were almost to the pick up counter when you stepped on the end of the sweatpants you were wearing and tripped. Bakugo was up and at your side in an instant, “Hey walk much? I know you’re excited but I promise its nothing to trip over.” 

You knew by his tone he was just teasing you. So you took his outstretched hand and pulled yourself up, “Thanks. I’ll try to be less embarrassing in the future.” 

The same girl who had taken you order was now leaning over the pick up counter, “Well I’d start with not wearing baggy ass clothing in public.” She pushed your coffee towards you and plastered on the fakest smile you had ever seen, “Have a nice day. Come  back soon.” 

Bakugo’s hands slammed down on the counter but somehow when he started talking he sounded completely calm. Which was almost scarier, “Look here little miss bitch. I dont think you have a problem with her clothes, I think you have a problem with her wearing my clothes. I've been coming here for years and you always fucking flirt with me. It’s not my fault that after all this time you haven't picked up on the fact that I’m not interested. Next time we come in you better have one hell of an apology or I’m calling the owner. We go way back. I saved his life once. Who's side do you think he’ll take?” He looked over to you and handed you your coffee, “Here, take this and dont forget your muffin. We’re leaving.” 

You felt you face heat up as you left the cafe, “Bakugo you didn't have to do that. I dont even know her. She can think what she wants. It doesn't bother me. No matter what she thinks it’s probably still better than the truth. There’s no way for her to know who I am or what I’ve been through.”

He grunted, “Thats the thing. She doesn't know what you’ve been through but it  shouldn't matter! You treat people with respect, especially paying customers in your place of business. She’s lucky I didn't get her ass fired.”

You put your hand on his shoulder, “Thank you for defending me. I appreciate it, I truly do. But just know it isn't necessary.” 

He softened a bit, “I told you. As long as you’re with me you’re safe. And that includes deranged baristas.” He didnt know why he was already so attached to you. He knows he met you last night but thats not really true is it? He's seen you in his dreams for months. In a way it feels like he’s known you much longer. He gestured towards your coffee, “So how do you like it?” 

You brought the to-go cup up to your lips and slowly took your first sip. You closed your eyes and hummed in response to the warm delicious beverage. “This... is... wow. This is my new favorite thing.”

Bakugo pretended to be hurt, “Oh wow I thought you said my cooking was the best.” 

You giggled, “I can like two things Bakugo. Coffee is my favorite drink. Your noodles are my favorite food.” 

“Alright I think I can deal with that. Let’s go get you some clothes.” He stopped you before you could take a step and his hands found your waist. Your heart started to race, “Dont freak out I’m just trying to help you out a little.” His fingers pinched your waistband and rolled it a few times. Making the pants you were wearing a bit shorter as well as tighter. “That should be good enough to get you to the store without any more graceful accidents.”

And it was. You arrived at a clothing store just as you finished your coffee. He held the door open for you and you stepped into what was either heaven or hell. You weren't sure yet. There were clothes everywhere! Hanging on the wall. Folded on tables. There was hardly room to move around the store. “Oh wow.” 

“Yeah I know... It’s a lot. But I figured you’re stating from scratch and this place has everything. Or so I’ve been told.” He pointed to a rack off to the back of the store that had an abundance of jeans, “Lets start there and get you out of those tripping hazards.” 

You stepped out of the fitting room to show Bakugo the pair you picked, “What do you think? I think they fit pretty well.” 

His eyes were immediately glued to your ass. He felt like such a creep for even looking but once he did it was hard for him to look away. “Yeah they look great. Why dont we get a few pairs.” 

You looked at the price tag, “I dont know they're kind of expensive...”

He just waved you off, “Dont even worry about it.”

Bakugo sat patiently while you tried on clothes. Which was saying a lot for him. Sure he’s gotten better since high school but he still wouldn't consider himself a patient person by any stretch of the imagination. Yet here he was. You came out in a Ground Zero onesie and he rolled his eyes, “Real cute. Now put it back,”

You shook your head, “No I like it. And its on sale. Please! It so cozy! The inside is so soft! It’s like its hugging me.”

He grunted. Was he really jealous of an article of clothing? His own merch no less? “Whatever. If you want it that bad lets get it.” He stood up from his spot and cracked his back from sitting down for so long. “You about ready to go?” 

You nodded as you started to pile all of your clothes into a basket by his feet. You had ended up with several pairs of jeans, leggings, and sweatpants. Tons of shirts, a jacket, three pairs of shoes, and a couple dresses. “Yeah I just need to get underwear.” 

He blushed. God damnit Bakugo get your shit together. He had seen plenty of naked girls before. He cleaned his throat, “I think that’s over there. I’ll go ahead and start getting all this stuff rung up at the counter.” 

You skipped away to the direction of the underwater department while he went to the front to start the check out process. The women who started ringing in all your items gave him a sweet smile, “You’re such a good boyfriend. I saw you over there with her while she tried clothes on. My fiancé would have been complaining in the first ten minutes.” 

He flinched, “I’m not her... she's... were not together. She's my roommate.” 

The women quirked an eyebrow, “Oh? And do you make it a habit of buying all of your roommates hundreds of dollars worth of clothes?” 

Bakugo growled, “Just ring this shit up would ya?”

He was messing with all the kick knack stuff by the register, purposively ignoring the growing total. His eye caught a something that he knew he had to get. It was a necklace that had a rose cold coffee cup. The smoke swirled up into a heart and as cheesy as it was he just had to buy it for you. He tossed in onto the pile of clothes, “This too...”

She eyes it carefully, “Are you sure you two aren't-”

“Hey I picked some stuff out. I tried to stay pretty practical. Just got a bundle pack of underwear one nice bra and two sports bras. The lady over there helped me pick them out. She kept trying to get my to buy some really uncomfortable looking pair, insisting you would like it but they looked itchy.” You almost choked when you saw the total. “Oh my gosh Bakugo! We need to put some of it back! That’s way too much!”

He shook his head and put a hand on your shoulder, “Nope. You need it. You cant keep wearing my clothes. As cute as it is, you need your own.” 

You picked up the necklace that was now sitting on top. “Oh I love this... but I dont remember picking it out...”

“That’s because I did. I thought you’d like i-”

You had thrown your arms around his neck, “You are honestly the nicest person in the world. I’m so glad I found you... I dont know what would have happened to me if I hadn’t.”

He made eye contact with the clerk over you shoulder and she was giving him a shit eating grin as if to say roommate huh? “I’m happy you like it.” 

[lady-divine-writes]

ACITW AU Inspired fic - “The Vacation Ultimatum” (Rated PG13)

Summary:

Sebastian wants to go somewhere different for summer vacation this year, but Kurt has his heart set on the beach house. He promises Sebastian he'll at least entertain other options. ... In his defense, he finds something very entertaining. (2316 words)

Notes: This is an ACITW inspired fic I started writing last summer before my computer died on me.

Read on AO3.

“So, babe, I was thinking …” Sebastian leaps over the back of the sofa to sit beside Kurt scanning the pages of the latest Vogue magazine.

“That’s dangerous. Real dangerous,” Kurt comments, not lifting his eyes from an ad for Gucci footwear. Kurt seems particularly interested in a pair of blue-and-black brocade loafers, checking the fine print for price and sizing information. Sebastian, knowing by now what Kurt’s long, thoughtful look (narrowed eyelids, scrunched nose, sucked in lips) means, takes note. “Didn’t we talk about that?”

“Ha … ha … ha. Anyway, what if this year, instead of going to the beach house for the summer …?”

Sebastian doesn’t get farther than that before Kurt drops his magazine and glares at him with the ice-cold burn of a lover scorned.

“Wh-what!? Not go to the …! Why!?”

“Babe…” Sebastian knew there was a chance Kurt would react this way from the second he opened his mouth. Kurt is always at his most deadly when he won’t let Sebastian finish a sentence. But Sebastian had hoped he might be persuaded to listen to reason, especially since he’d mentioned wanting to go on a pilgrimage to the House of Alexander this year. If anything could break them out of their summer vacay rut, it should have been McQueen. A jaunt across the pond would have been a welcome change from their usual trip to North Carolina. But apparently Kurt is too sentimental to break from their routine, even for a journey to the temple of his idol.

Sebastian had been hoping against hope … and he lost.

“Because we go to the beach house every summer!”

Kurt’s eyes shift left and right, waiting for a more compelling argument. “Yeah, and …?”

“And aren’t you getting a little tired of it? Don’t you think it’s getting old?”

Kurt’s jaw drops in silent gasp. “Who … who are you right now? How … how can you say that!?”

“Because over a decade of summers at the same beach house can get kind of stale, Kurt!”

Kurt shakes his head slowly, disbelief deepening fine lines around his mouth and the corners of his eyes. “You’ve known me for over a decade! Am I getting stale?”

“Do you really want an answer to that?” Sebastian jokes before self-preservation and common sense have the chance to shove his size nines in his mouth and stop him. Kurt’s mouth snaps shut with frightening speed, his teeth making a sound when they meet like the cracking of bone.

“If that’s how you feel,” he says, words short, over-enunciated, clipped at the ends as if with razor-sharp shears, “then I can go to the beach house alone this summer, and you can go somewhere fresher!”

Sebastian sighs. He should have known he wasn’t going to win this one. He was defeated before he began. “Kurt …”

“And while you’re there, maybe you can find yourself someone less hard and crusty since I’m becoming so stale!”

“Jesus Christ, Kurt!” Sebastian’s hands find his hair and pull in frustration. “Stop twisting things around! That’s not what I meant! Arguing about the same thing over and over is getting stale!”

“Then stop arguing,” Kurt poses with a wicked grin. “There. Problem solved.”

“I happen to have good reasons for not wanting to go to the beach house this summer!”

“And those are …?”

“For one thing, it’s nowhere near private.”

Kurt chuckles humorlessly. “It’s on a private beach! That your family owns!”

“Olivia and Brian drop in with the kids all the time, unannounced.”

“So? I love Olivia and Brian! And the kids!”

“So do I! But I also love being able to walk around naked and fuck in the kitchen!”

“No one ever stops you walking around naked here at home! And we’ve fucked in the kitchen so many times, we’ve worn ass marks onto the floor, the island, and the table! You can’t throw a robe over yourself and fuck in a bed like a normal person for one month?”

“Kurt! Don’t you think it’s nice to do something new every once in a while?”

Kurt carefully picks up his dropped magazine so that he has something to toss sassily aside and crosses his arms over his chest. “Have you met me?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sebastian says, mirroring the gesture … minus having anything to throw. Not that he didn’t look around him for something suitable, but the only things within reach are coffee mugs and Yankee Candles, and he doesn’t want to accidentally give Kurt a concussion. “You’re stubborn and annoying!”

“Exactly!”

Sebastian snorts at the word Kurt wasn’t quick enough to catch before it flew out of his mouth, turned around, and slapped him in the face.

Kurt closes his eyes on his own faux pas and shakes it from his head. “I mean, about being stubborn. How many times do I stray from the familiar? I wear the same designers all the time, I order the same dish at every restaurant, I’ve driven the same Navigator since high school …”

“Yeah …” Sebastian clears his throat before he accidentally guffaws “… by the way, that’s something we really need to talk about ...”

Kurt’s offended face becomes comically dramatic. “My life is stressful, Sebastian!”

Sebastian pauses his argument to look Kurt over from head to toe - his significant other reclining on the sofa in his pajamas and robe with his feet propped up … at three on a Thursday afternoon.

“Yeah …” He leans over, catches the end of Kurt’s untied belt, and flips it across his waist. “The rigors of your life must be crippling!”

“It’s my afternoon off, you deranged kumquat!” Kurt snaps, tossing the belt back and smacking Sebastian on the chin. “The point is I value our summer together. Most of all, I value the fact that I don’t have to stress out about it because I don’t have to put any energy into thinking about doing something different! It’s a no-brainer!”

“So you’re saying it suits you.”

Kurt points at Sebastian, very reminiscent of a circa 2000 Cooper Anderson. “Watch your step, Smythe, or you’re sleeping alone tonight.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sebastian relents, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry. That one went a bit too far.”

Kurt breathes in deep, exhales long. “Look, when we first got together and divvied up responsibilities, you put me in charge of planning summer vacation.”

“Because I thought you’d send us to all sorts of exotic locales with clothing optional activities.”

“We do those over spring break! And on our birthdays! And over New Year’s! We’ve flashed more people than Tara Reid! I like going to the beach house in the summer! It’s tradition!”

“But we can go anywhere in the world!”

“I don’t wanna go anywhere in the world!” Kurt parrots in a whiny voice. “I wanna go to the beach house!”

Sebastian slaps his hands on his thighs and pushes up to his feet. “Fine. Whatevs. Just do me a favor. For me. Because you supposedly love me.”

Kurt rolls his eyes so far back in his head he glimpses his soul. “I guess …”

“Get on your phone and check out some other spots that you might want to go to. Any spot, regardless of distance or cost. Then we’ll compare, list pros and cons, and together we’ll make an educated decision. That way we’ll know one hundred percent for certain that there isn’t somewhere else that tickles your fancy.”

“I already know …”

“Just this once,” Sebastian says, cutting into Kurt’s grousing, “and again, because you love me.”

Kurt’s face pinches, his lips pulled tight to avoid creasing. He drops his head back on his shoulders in exasperation and reaches in his robe pocket for his phone. “All right, all right. But shoo. I don’t need any distractions.”

Sebastian leans in to give Kurt a kiss, grinning when he swats him away like an irritating insect. “Your wish is my command, oh benevolent dictator.”

“That’s Expedia God to you.”

***

Sebastian makes himself scarce for more than an hour running odd errands - one of which includes buying Kurt his favorite cheesecake from the bakery down the block. He’s both encouraged and relieved when he returns home to find Kurt still in the living room when he should be at yoga, bent over his phone, staring intently at something on his screen.

He missed yoga for this, Sebastian thinks. He must be taking it seriously.

Even more than that, Kurt is smiling, lower lip pinched between his teeth, his eyes positively glowing.

‘Yes!’ Sebastian cheers silently, slipping into the kitchen to put away the cheesecake while allowing himself a moment to daydream about spending this upcoming summer vacation on the French Riviera, which they admittedly did last Christmas. Or in Jamaica, where they’d gone two falls ago. Or, like he’d thought, London, which is where they’d spent Fashion Week. Sebastian stops with his hand on the refrigerator door, chewing his own lower lip in thought. Looking back on their lives together as a couple, they have done their share of traveling around the world, even if they do spend every summer in North Carolina. So … spending another one there isn’t exactly a big deal. They’d recently booked a flight to Rio to coincide with the start of the school year, winging over after the egress of promiscuous co-eds vying for one final fling before hitting the books.

Jesus Christmas!

Is he being a jerk about nothing!?

Sebastian pulls out his cell phone and checks his calendar. Nearly every box of every month is filled with meetings, assignments, appointments. But aside from that, it’s cluttered with trips they’ve planned - the Cape for their anniversary; the Poconos for Kurt’s dad and stepmom’s anniversary; Munich for Oktoberfest, which happens to be a tradition that Sebastian started - one that Kurt hasn’t always been so fond of. He can appreciate the food. He can appreciate the beer. He can appreciate the authentic costumes and the lively music and dancing.

But the second people start hugging and slapping each other, he gets a little skittish.

Last year, Sebastian flew Kurt to Milan last minute for Arbor Day, just to give him a reason to make the stupid day memorable. Thus is one of the perks of being rich. He’d planned on making that a tradition.

So that’s two of Sebastian’s traditions to one of Kurt’s.

Sebastian sticks his head in the fridge, smacking his forehead against the butter dish, and groans.

If Kurt wants to spend this summer - and every summer until the day they die - in North Carolina, is it really such a big deal?

But seeing Kurt stare at his phone with a huge smile on his face intrigues Sebastian. Even after everything, their whole argument, he did what Sebastian asked. He gave it a chance. What if he actually found somewhere else he wants to go? Skydiving? Spelunking? Scuba diving? Another hot air balloon ride?

Sebastian swallows hard remembering …

… they can do all those things in North Carolina.

He removes his head from the dairy section and closes the door. Then he strolls back into the living room, nonchalant smile on his face.

“You’re looking pretty focused there, babe. Did you find something you like?”

“Yup.”

Sebastian’s spine tingles with the possibilities. “Willing to share?”

“Well, in order for you to appreciate where I ended up on my journey, I’ll need to walk you through my process.”

“Do tell …”

“I didn’t have any particular locale in mind, but I knew I wanted to go to the beach, so I started looking up beaches.”

Sebastian nods. “Not venturing too far from the comfortable, I see, but still promising.”

“Tropical beaches, exclusive beaches, private beaches, beach resorts, islands …”

“A-ha …”

“I saw a link for this beach in San Diego called Dog Beach.”

“Very nice. Quaint. I’ve been there once or twice. Lots of nice little communities with bungalows …”

“I thought so, too. But I was clicking through the website and I saw the most amazing thing. Something I wouldn’t mind seeing in person.”

“Really?” Sebastian says hopefully.

“A-ha. It had pictures of a surf dog competition …”

Sebastian’s smile dips at the corners. His voice becomes a little tight. “Okay …”

“I clicked on it and …”

“Let me guess …” Sebastian drops his head into his hands, blunt nails digging into the cold spot on his forehead “… you’ve been watching videos of surfing dogs.”

“Yup.”

“For how long?”

“Oh, I don’t know. When was the last time you were in here?”

Sebastian’s arms drop to his side revealing his disgruntled expression. “You’ve been watching videos of dogs surfing for two hours!?”

“I guess. Time’s just … flown by …”

Sebastian watches in agony as Kurt switches to another tab on his phone, bringing up a YouTube video of a bulldog riding a skateboard. Kurt chuckles and shakes his head.

“How’d you learn how to do that?” he baby talks the screen. “You’re the goodest boy, aren’t you? 12 out of 10.” He scrolls down to the comment section to type that in.

Sebastian slaps his forehead. He turns on his heel and heads for the bedroom before he has the chance to go insane. To be honest, he should have known better. He walked into this one, what with his cockimamey ideas about going somewhere else over the summer. “Beach house it is.”

“If that’s what you think is best, dear,” Kurt mutters to Sebastian’s retreating back, deeply enthralled in another dog video. He waits till he hears Sebastian open the door to the bathroom, then closes out the video and composes a text:

To: Olivia

False alarm! We’re on for the beach house!

He giggles conspiratorially when a message immediately pops up.

From: Olivia

Thank God! See you there!

[inorganicone2230]

Divine Intervention (Part 4) Yandere!Erasermic x Fem!Reader

Part 3 Part 5

Summary: Sometimes a little divine intervention is necessary to take back the ones we love… whether they want it or not.

Warnings: Suicide, kidnapping, forced relationship, emotional and mental manipulation, typical Yandere behavior, possible non-con in future chapters, see tags below for more

Side Note: Elements of non-con in this chapter!

Please Enjoy!

Soft.

That was the first word that came to mind as you wake up and your eyes tried to open. ‘Since when has my bed been this comfy?’

You never really had much trouble with waking up. The moment you would hear your alarm or phone go off you were bright eyed and out of bed in an instant. So the fact that you were having such a hard time jostling yourself from sleeps clutches was slightly alarming to you.

Your mind was groggy and you couldn't seem to come up with the strength to even lift your arms to rub the crust from your eyes. Your mouth also felt dry, like you had been sucking on cotton balls all night.

Wait…

Last night!

Instantly the cloud of sleepiness was gone and you shot up right. Those two weirdo lookalikes had kidnapped you! But wait… before you had passed out, they had changed. Changed to look more like their counterparts from the dreams. It certainly didn't take a genius to put two and two together to come to the realization that they were one and the same. The room you were in proved that much.

It was a room you knew all too well. From the bed the size of two kings covered in extravagant blankets and fluffy pillows, to the walls draped in lavish wall-scrolls and tapestries. The scenes depicted ranging from epic battles and iconic moments from mythology, to tranquil gardens, forests and lake sides. Even the size of the room itself, you could fit three of your apartments in here and still have room to move around.

It was the same room the two men shared in your dreams. Though, you were beginning to suspect that they were never really dreams to begin with. Not ones that your mind conjured up all on it's own at any rate.

Despite only being awake for a few moments, the knowledge of the situation you currently find yourself in was undeniably terrifying and you wished more than anything that you could write it off as just another dream. However, you weren't stupid OR gullible enough to actually let that thought progress further.

For starters, you were interacting with the environment. You could move your body and touch with freewill. You could look around as much as you wanted, or not at all if that's what you chose. All the other times you you were merely the dreams puppet, moved and positioned against your will. You weren't even allowed to blink or close your eyes, all you could do was stare blankly ahead at whatever was in front of you.

These changes alone were enough to assure you that this was real. Or something that felt substantially real at the very least.

You wanted to go back to sleep, to close your eyes and let this hell fade into the back of your mind. To cover your ears and pretend you were anywhere else.

But your looming fear was to great. The questions you had racing through your mind were to big to let you try and forget where you were. You needed to figure something, anything out about your situation.

You slowly began to crawl off the oversized bed. You needed to look around and get your bearings, who knew when those psychos would come back.

With your feet firmly planted on the floor you first took note of how you were dressed. You were no longer wearing the clothes you had last night, instead you wore a simple silk robe that just brushed the tops of your feet. Black with emerald green vines winding around it. You felt sick at the thought of one or even both of them taking off your clothes to put you in this thing! At least you could still feel your underwear. That was something…

To be honest, despite it being their bedroom, there wasn't much to see or find. Nothing that you saw as useful anyway. There weren't even any visible doors along the walls, not even a seam for a secret one as far as you could tell! And all the windows were too high up for you to reach, even if you stood on something.

You had seen it all before, but now you were getting to touch and look more closely. You saw the masterfully crafted low-sitting vanity table that -The Golden One- Hizashi usually did his hair in front of, brushes, ties, hair sticks and other little trinkets scattered about it's smooth polished surface. A large bathroom like area complete with a built in hot spring. And a few dressers and trunks, each filled to the brim with beautiful and intricate clothing that looked more like it belonged on the set of a period-piece style movie than in someone's personal wardrobe, there were even a few modern articles scattered about. It wasn't hard to figure out whose clothes were who's, though you were incredibly disturbed by the sheer amount of women's clothing and undergarments you found. You had a feeling you knew who they were meant for and that was something you just weren't ready to think about yet. There were other things to, like a writing desk and a small library in the back of the room, but nothing else really.

You took a seat back on the bed and began to think. Why were you here? What did they want from you? How could you get away? Were they going to hurt or kill you?

You highly doubted that they were going to do something as drastic as kill you! They did go through all the trouble of kidnapping you after all, they even went so far as to put you in sleeping clothes and even let you sleep in their bed! But even so, you were beginning to panic again. Whatever calm rationality had affected your thoughts upon first waking was dwindling down to nothing. Your knuckles were turning white with how hard you were gripping the sheets and breathing was becoming difficult. The only sound besides you labored breath was the rush of blood in your ears as your heart pounded louder and faster than ever before. That's probably why you almost missed it.

The sound of a sliding door.

Your eyes shot up from the floor to see them standing in a doorway that had not been there before. They were smiling at you as if nothing was wrong, as if they hadn't kidnapped you.

“How are you feeling Kitten?”

“Did you sleep well? We tried to make you as comfortable as possible.”

The sound of their voices made you feel like you had been doused in ice water. You shot up and ran to the other side of the bed, you knew it was a futile effort but you needed to put space between yourself and them.

They watched your actions and looked at each other, sighing in unison.

“I suppose we should have expected this kind of reaction.” Shouta said.

“You don't have to run away from us Sweetling. The last thing we would ever do is hurt you.” Hizashi tried to reassure you. “Why don't you come over here and we can talk, so we can explain what's going on.”

You snapped, “How about you tell me right now and then go fuck yourselves!” You knew you should probably stop while you were ahead, but you weren't done, not by a long-shot. “ I want to know what is going on?! Why am I here, who are you and why do you look like them?!”

“Your here because this is where you belong. It's where you have always belonged.” Shouta replied. He said it with such certainty, such conviction.

“What the fuck does that even mean?! I don't know you freaks!” You shouted in frustration.

Hizashi stepped forward and held out his hand to you, like he really expected you to take it. Yeah right, as if?!

He must have made the brilliant deduction and realized that you weren't going to accept his offer because after a few moments he dropped his hand into the long sleeves of his robe. He pulled out a small vial, it's contents shimmered a faint silver. “If you come over here and drink this, everything will make sense (Y/N), we promise. Just be a good girl and do this for us.”

Unbelievable. They were crazy, that's the only explanation there was. You told them so, “You must be crazy! Deranged! Absolutely certifiably fucking insane if you think that I would ever drink something that came from your hands!” You were beyond being civil by this point, you were livid and coupled with your mounting fear, the words just wouldn't stop. “I would rather slit my own god damn throat and choke on the blood then do anything for you two!”

You saw them stiffen, their eyes widening with some emotion you couldn't quite decipher. Fear? Shock? Anger? It could have been any one of them… or all of them. All you knew was that the second the words left your mouth, that it was the wrong thing to say.

Faster than you could even comprehend what was going on, they were on you. How had they moved so quickly?

You had a sense of déjà vu as you backed up, right into a wall. The two of them crowded you, glaring down at you as Shouta took your chin firmly between his fingers, squeezing so hard you thought it might bruise. It made you feel like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You will never say something like that in front of us ever again! If you do, I promise you will not like the outcome. Do I make myself clear?”

All your bravado from a few moments ago was gone, replaced by crippling fear with how close they were.

Shouta however, was not satisfied with your lack of response and gripped your chin with more force, his eyes flashing a menacing shade of red. “Answer me! Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear.”

Self preservation was a powerful motivator, it was probably the only thing that made you able to speak at all. “Yes! I understand!” You scrunched your eyes closed and cowered further into the wall.

His eyes softened and his hold on your face relaxed with your submission as he held your cheek in the palm of his hand, stroking his thumb back and forth across the smooth skin. “I am so very sorry for frightening you Kitten, but you have to understand how hurtful it is for you to say such things to us. The very idea of you being hurt, even at your own hand is not something we even want to think about again.”

‘Again?’ What was that supposed to mean?

Hizashi picked up right where Shouta left off and spoke next, “Just drink your medicine, everything will make sense once you do.”

You shake your head, eyes still unable to meet theirs willingly. “I-I can't! I-I don't want to! Please just take me home! I don't want to be here…” Tears brought on by both fear and frustration slide down your cheeks.

“We're sorry Sweetling.” You highly doubted that. “But we can't do that. This is your home now, and it will be forever. It would be in your best interest to get used to it.” Hizashi said matter of factually.

You felt numbed by his words. Logically you knew you had no chance of getting away on your own, they obviously weren't human, and that knowledge alone was enough to send your mind reeling. A small part of your brain was telling you to give in and just do as they say, that it would be easier than trying to fight a losing battle.

But you just couldn't bring yourself to do it… the unknown was just too scary.

“I figured this was how it was going to play out. She always has been a stubborn one.” You heard Shouta admit. “Do you want to do it this time Zashi?”

“Stop talking like you know me!”

Your outburst went ignored.

“Of course! It's not as if I have to hold back this time after all.” He shot you a filthy grin that made your skin crawl.

You tensed up, you had a feeling you knew what they were talking about and you clamped your mouth shut tight just in time to feel Shouta grab you by the arm and yank you closer to him. Your back was pressed against the firm lines and ridges of his well defined chest and abs and he used only one arm to keep both of yours pinned to your sides in some twisted version of a backwards hug. You still couldn't believe how flipping strong they were! You wanted so badly to scream at them to stop but you knew you had to keep your mouth shut.

“Can you give me a hand here Shou?” The blond asked before uncorking the little bottle and pouring the liquid into his mouth.

You felt him nod from behind you and suddenly felt his other hand come up and cover your face. More specifically, your nose! He was trying to force you to open your mouth by cutting off your only other source of oxygen! You began to thrash and jerk around, kicking out your legs in an effort to knock him off balance. To bad for you he was like a fucking statue, the only sound he even made was a deep groan when your backside rubbed up against a certain area on his body.

But with no oxygen to sustain you, your movements quickly ceased. You felt lightheaded and against your wishes, your body finally took that involuntary breath it was so desperately craving.

Large hands took hold of your face and a warm mouth latched onto your own at the same time you felt Shouta’s free hand move up to your forehead and pull your head back, keeping you locked firmly in place.

You would have tried screaming, but Hizashi’s kiss was forcing the contents of the vile down your throat and you really didn't feel like choking. He moaned into the kiss and slide his tongue against your own. You had the fleeting thought that you should bite down like you did before but it was like they could read your mind, because Shouta’s breath was suddenly ghosting across your ear, “If you try to pull that same little stunt you did last time, you're going to regret it… Now, just be a good girl and enjoy it with us.” He whispered hotly and took your earlobe between his teeth to give a slight nip. The action sent an unwelcome heat curling in your core and you felt ashamed when it made your panties dampen with desire.

You knew he meant what he said and so you stayed perfectly still while they continued this assault on you. Hizashi continued to kiss you, and you felt drops of the liquid slide down your chin and neck. His hands having moved from your face to your waist, pulling you towards him and grinding his hardening cock against you. Shouta meanwhile was doing much the same, holding you in place and rolling your ass slowly across his bulge while his mouth worked on leaving all sorts of marks on either side of your neck.

You did your best to tune it out, to pretend that you were anywhere else but in this situation. But trying to do that was proving to be a challenge as unwanted arousal and something else were burning inside you. You suspected it had to do with what you drank, the effects reminding you of sleeping pills. You felt lethargic, your body was heavy and you knew if you were to lie down and close your eyes that you would have no problem falling asleep if you wanted to. Unlike the stuff they forced you to drink last time though, this one didn't make you feel like you were going to pass out.

Eventually Hizashi pulled away from your lips, leaving you gasping for breath. He smiled down at you with a dopey grin on his face, “You did so well Sweetling! We just need you to give it another moment to kick in.” He praised you, like a parent congratulating their child on getting a good grade.

“Don’t worry Kitten, you'll understand everything in just a few moments.” Shouta continued, nuzzling his nose into your neck and taking a deep inhale. “Fuck,” he groaned, “I had almost forgotten how utterly fantastic she smells Zashi.”

Hizashi gave the other man a filthy smile before locking eyes with you, “She tastes fucking good too. I can't wait to bury my tongue between her legs and get a real taste. It's been far too long.”

You were still trapped between them and unable to move much, but that didn't stop you from trying, or voicing your displeasure. “Get the hell off of me! Stop touching me already and start explaining what is going on!” More useless struggles. “Why do you two keep talking like you kn-”

All movements and protests from you came to a crashing halt.

“Looks like it's started.” You heard one of them whisper. You didn't know which one though.

You were being bombarded by images, images that you had never seen before, but you somehow knew every detail about them as soon as they flashed before your eyes. You saw a little girl who you knew as yourself, dressed in clothes worn by people thousands of years ago and playing with other children by a pond, spending time with your mother in her garden, helping your father gather firewood for the coming winter. These and so many more filled your mind to the point of bursting, an entire lifetime’s worth heaped upon you in a matter of seconds until finally, only a few remained…

-Bending down to pick up the weak little Cardinal with the broken wing, cradling it ever so gently in your hands as you rushed home to tend to it.

-The weeks spent patiently caring for it until it could at last fly again.

-Meeting the birds owners a few days later, two handsome men, one light, the other dark. They came to express their gratitude for the kindness you showed their little pet, telling you that they lived in the area and had heard from the villagers in the market that a girl fitting your description had been carrying for it. You would come to regret not questioning their words further.

-Becoming friends with them over the course of the next few months. You simply assumed they were lonely living in the mountains by themselves and you enjoyed the company as well, you never felt the need to give it much more thought.

-That fateful night they came to the home you lived in by yourself. To tell you who they really were, The Gods of Life and Death. They proved it when one killed a hare without touching it and the other brought it back with a touch of his glowing hand.

-You were shocked of course! But you asked them why they were telling you this all of a sudden. Their answer left you speechless.

-They said that they loved you. That your kindness concerning the Cardinal had endeared you to them as well as the months leading up to this night. They said they had come to get you, to take you back home with them.

-You refused. Bowed and told them that while you were honored by their opinion of you, you had friends and your parents here. A life that you loved and didn't want to leave.

-They did not seem to take your rejection to badly. They appeared saddened, but otherwise seemed to respect your decision, even offering to make you some tea before you went back to bed, with the assurance that you wouldn’t lose their friendship as a result. You happily accepted. That was a mistake...

-They did something to the tea, waiting until you had gone back to bed before stealing you away. The drug making you fall into a deep undisturbed sleep, only to awaken later on in an unfamiliar place. They told you that you were just confused and that you would come to love them in time, that they would show how much they loved you. Your pleas and wishes to be let go fell on deaf ears.

-The time with them in that beautiful prison was a nightmare. Day after day, night after night. Being forced to spend all your time with them no matter how loudly you screamed to be let go. Being forced to share their bed with them as they used your body, all while they called it making love. The pleasure they forced upon you did not make it bearable and pleading and begging did not dissuade them.

And finally…

-Reaching your breaking point. They were so convinced of your feelings for them, that you truly loved them and simply did not know how to express it. They were so wrapped up in this fantasy that they never even considered thinking you would try to hurt yourself.

-You used one of the hair ornaments they had gifted you with to slit both your wrists and even stab yourself in the heart for good measure. It stung, but the pain was worth it. You laid back and waited. In that time you had a few more thoughts pass through your mind but in just a few moments everything was black. Nothing.

--------

You came to, blinking in astonishment, and still trapped between them.

“W-What was…”

“Do you finally remembered (Y/N)? Do you understand now why we've done this? Do you understand just how much we love you? That we will never let you go? Never!” Hizashi whispered across your lips, pulling you even deeper into his suffocating embrace.

“It was so very selfish to do that to us darling.” This time it was Shouta. “Do you have any idea what the last five thousand years have been like for us? We have had to live without you all this time and it was nearly unbearable.” His grip on you was bruising.

You were still in too much shock to really pay attention to what they were saying. You remembered everything! It didn't matter that these memories might have been fake, they felt real, and that was all that counted. Because deep down in your soul, some part of yourself that you couldn't lie to, told you that they had been very real.

And this knowledge gave way to fear. You now knew exactly what they were capable of doing to you, what they were willing to do to find you and keep you. Panic set it. “How?!” You gasped, “How did this happen?! Killing myself was supposed to free me from you two, so how am I still here?!”

They must have decided that it was safe to let you go because all at once they released you, stepping away to simply watch what you would do next.

“We don't know why your soul did not fade. We have a few theories but nothing concrete.” Shouta started, “Shortly after we found your body, we realized your soul was still here and we rushed to rectify your mistake. We set your soul down the path of reincarnation, we spent all this time doing everything in our power to make sure you would come back to us someday, and here you are at last. Our sweet darling girl is home for good.” You could hear the sickening love in his voice as your head shot up to glare at them.

“Not for long! I got away from you two maniacs once, I can do it again!” You declared. Where there's a will there's a way.

They both looked at you, then each other, then back to you before Hizashi let out a deep mocking chuckle. “That won't ever happen Sweetling. We have taken measures to see to it that that will never happen. Measures we did not take before because we were foolish enough not to consider every possibility.”

You felt a cold dread wash over you at his words, “What k-kind of measures?”

“Just simple things really, like making sure your never left alone. From now on, one or both of us will be with you at all times. It will be a very long time before we give you any kind of privacy again. But the biggest one is the contents of the medicine we gave you.” His voice was filled with such joy at the mere thought of it.

“Wait… wasn't that... just to make me remember? To restore my memories?” You were definitely losing it now and for every step back you took, they took two to follow you, until the back of your knees hit the bed and you fell. You scrambled to roll over and crawl away from them but it was to late, they were already sitting on either side of you. Picking you up with ease, Shouta settled you into his lap while the blonde moved to be closer to the two of you. Neither seemed to mind how hard you were struggling, they just continued on with their explanation.

“Yes, and no.” Was their answer. “You see, we added a little something special to the mixture that wasn't part of the original recipe.”

“Special?” You had the feeling you were about to regret asking that.

“Our blood.”

“W-What?!” You locked eyes with The God of Life and tasted bile on your tongue when you saw no sign of deceit on his smug face.

Shouta took over the talking again, calmly and rationally explaining what that meant. “We mixed some of our blood into it. You simply being here in the Heavens is enough to keep you young and immortal, that part is easy. But after your little -shall we say- transgression, we had to consider other things as well.” He paused to make sure you were paying attention and continued, “My blood for instance, should you ever manage to get yourself hurt that badly again, will make sure that your soul is sent directly to me. It will keep your body on the very cusp of life until your wounds have healed and I can reattach your soul back to it. Nothing short of me ripping your soul to shreds can ever kill you now.”

“And as for my blood,” Hizashi took you from Shouta as easily as if you were a rag-doll, setting you down in his lap this time. “it will heal you. No matter how severe the wound is, my blood coursing through you will make sure that you always heal and never scar.” He wrapped his arms around you and rocked you back and forth. “And as a nice little side effect, if you ever manage to get lost our blood will act like a beacon for us, we will always be able to find you now!”

“Not that you have to worry about any of this, they are just precautions after all. Nothing can or will ever harm you again. Not even yourself.

This wasn't happening! This couldn't be happening! You wracked your brain, trying to think of some way to get out of this, but every idea that came to mind was shot down. Every plan you could think of was foiled by these “precautions” they spoke of. And even if you could think of one that would allow you to avoid every one of them, how were you supposed to execute it if they planned on being with you every second of every day? You couldn't, you realized. You were probably stuck here indefinitely for the time being… for now anyway. The very concept had knots forming in your stomach.

All of this did leave you with one burning question in your mind though. One that you had been wanting an answer to for years.

“The dream’s?” You whispered quietly.

“Hmm? What was that?”

You clenched you fists. “The dreams. Why make me have those dreams?”

“Oh, those?” Hizashi replied. You hated how damn proud of themselves they sounded. “We wanted you to get accustomed to us and the palace again. We thought it might help make the transition a little easier if you already knew your way around.”

It was a simple explanation, one that brought you no satisfaction of any kind. But then again, you doubted that any answer they gave would have made you feel anything other than bitter.

You felt dead inside, numb and lifeless. How could things have gone so downhill?! Just yesterday you were a normal adult, working a normal job, living in a normal city in a normal apartment, spending time with your normal friends. Now you didn't know what you were or what you were doing. All you knew was that you wanted to be anywhere else but here.

The two deities fawning over you did not seem to notice or care about your lack of response to anything they said or did. They were too caught up in their reunion with you. To ecstatic over their plans success.

“You'll see,” one of them said, “things will be better this time. We will make you so happy the thought of leaving us will never cross your mind ever again.”

So, the next chapter will pick up right where this one left off, no time skip or anything. It was just getting kind of bogged down with too much exposition so I decided to split it in half. lol

As always, thank you again to @jadepillar18 for the inspiration on this story and I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

[ffamranxii]

I just finished Fruits Basket Another and I have some Feelings, okay? Under the cut, because spoilers.

THE CHARACTERS

Hoooo boy let’s unpack here. Furubana is about Sawa Mitoma, a nervous first year in high school. She firmly believes that she’s basically human trash, and resolves to take up as little space in the world as possible, and that’s not even me paraphrasing. She says within the first few pages she wants to take up as little space as humanly possible. We find out that she’s the daughter of an extremely abusive mother - emotionally abusive. Sawa’s mother never hits her, but she’s also never once nice to her in any of her appearances. She isolates Sawa from any and all friends, she constantly drags Sawa down, and she’s rarely even at home, even back when Sawa was a little girl. How long has Sawa been looking after herself? Sawa is what Tohru could have become if Kyoko had been involved with a gang member rather than Katsuya. 

The main trio of characters is rounded out by essentially the same trio as before: Mutsuki Sohma as the son of Yuki and Machi and Hajime Sohma as the son of Tohru and Kyo. Visually, they look nearly identical, which is why I chose that ^ picture. But they could not be more different. Sawa is every Sohma insecurity rolled into one, and the Sohmas are what their parents could have been without the curse and the constant abuse. Hajime is one of the oldest of the cousins, smothered with love and affection by his entire family, and is lovingly referred to as Dad and Papa (which annoys him), being one of the few in the family who cooks, cleans, or is, y’know, responsible. (Good job, Kyoru! Teach your boy right!) He is unwillingly elected student council president, and manages it easily. Unlike his father’s life, things come easily to Hajime, but he doesn’t let that make him conceited. He’s a down to earth character who trades biting remarks with Mutsuki. Mutsuki, on the other hand, I love. I adore. I want to erect a shrine to this boy. Poor Yuki, his wife hath birthed him a miniature Ayame. Mutsuki is trouble under a beautiful exterior, subtle snark and gentle teasing, but over the top in other aspects (like his thing that was once a desk and complete inability to do the most basic of tasks like buy laundry detergent, his utter willingness to let other people do things for him). He is also a deeply caring individual, and has an extremely close relationship with his cousin Shiki which is the complete opposite of his father’s relationship with Shiki’s mother that I nearly cried right there while reading volume three.

Kinu Sohma is the daughter of Hatori and Mayuko (a pairing of which I am not fond), and I actually was not fond of her until volume three, at which point she became a treat. A college student, Kinu seems to have no real ambitions or life goals (much like many college freshmen), spends much of her time sleeping, and only really sweeps in at the last chapter to comfort a very distressed Sawa in the way only a fellow woman can, delivering a wonderful speech right up with Kyoko’s Words Of Wisdom about how no one has the right to treat you badly, even your own family. No one has the right to abuse you, demean you, hurt you. That is a curse. She actually uses the word curse, and it makes me wonder what her parents told her of the Sohma curse, if Hatori ever mentioned how Akito used to be, or how Shigure was such a piece of shit about the seahorse, and it made me love Hatori all over again, for teaching his daughter such a powerful thing. Volume three also gave wonderful interaction between Kinu and the entirely deranged (but perfectly appropriate) Hibika Sohma, the daughter of Ayame and Mine. Just like Hatori is the only one who has any sort of control over Ayame, Kinu is the only one who can reign in Hibika. I believe these two are the oldest, out of all of the cousins, because in volume two, Hibika just fucking jets off to Paris with no warning, at the top of one of her tiny tophats instead of setting up her parents’ second store, because she needed inspiration to create new dresses. I don’t think a high school student could do that. Hibika may possibly be the oldest (Kinu is still a minor at 19 [Japan’s age of adulthood is 20]), because I don’t think a minor could do that either. She’s obsessed with Sawa and playing dress up with her, something Kinu is able to reign her away from doing with ease. She’s only the tiniest bit toned down from Ayame. I love her.

Michi Manabe is the daughter of Kakeru and Komaki and is sometimes at odds with Hajime. My biggest complaint with Furubana is that she is not in it enough!! Despite not being a Sohma proper, Michi is included in nearly all Sohma activities and all the Sohma cousins know her. She and Mutsuki were raised as siblings and address each other as such, which is precious because awww, but also because Kakeru has a deep sibling bond with his half sister as an adult, Komaki (who I view as another Tohru in a way, from how she was introduced) made an effort to keep Yuki and Machi in their lives and comfortable, and Yuki and Machi both created a family unit with the one family member who wanted Machi around, a bond so strong that their children saw each other so much growing up that they refer to each other as siblings. How precious is that?? Poor Hajime is probably the only voice of reason Mutsuki ever had in his life because you know Michi is to Mutsuki what Kakeru would be to Ayame. God I need a Kakeru-meets-Ayame-centric episode right now. Yuki would DIE. Riku Sohma is one half of the twin siblings born to Haru and Rin, and while he looks like Haru, this boy is a lot like his mother. He doesn’t have the anger issues his parents have, not really (except for instance of punching out Hibika’s brother), but he can be a bit spacey, he’s very serious and literal, and he likes to sleep. Everywhere. This family and their sleep. It kills me. He also gets himself a cute little girlfriend, and because of his crush on this girl and his watching of her, he notices her wanting to reach out to Sawa, and Sawa makes her first friend (mostly) on her own in nearly her entire life! On the other hand, Sora Sohma, his twin sister, is cute and spacey, a bit ditzy, and looks like their mother but is 100% Haru. She has nicknames for everyone in the family, and never calls anyone by their actual name. She’s my second favorite character after Hibika. Sora reminds me very much of Usagi Tsukino: instead of seeing a person, Sora sees a friend.

Poor Chizuru Sohma should’ve been Yuki’s kid. Honestly I’m surprised Ayame and Mine don’t have more kids, given how passionate I’m sure they are. And while Chizuru loves his father, he does declare the man crazy (as does every other character, minus Mutsuki, who says he’s “the most terrific of all uncles”) on more than one occasion. Chizuru is the more responsible of the Ayame/Mine Sohma children, setting up the Ayame II shop essentially on his own until Mutsuki offers Sawa’s help as a part timer (because remember, Hibika decided to go to Paris for the week).  He hates that others view his family as eccentric and him as normal and especially hates when they comment on it, and he tends to be a bit foul-mouthed and outspoken. A bit like Hiro. Poor kid. Rio Mosca is Saki Hanajima’s boy and he is NOT KAZUMA’S SON AND THIS MAKES ME SO SAD. His parents’ love story is rather cute, however. His father is a foreigner (Italian, given that his surname is Mosca), and the two met on a plane, making this a cute little callback to when young Megumi prayed for a someone for Saki to “get on a plane and meet her.” Mina Sohma is the most precious baby and is the daughter of our boy Momiji! Although, look at her - could she be anyone else’s child? She is sweet and cute and seems to be without Momiji a lot - Momiji inherited his father’s business (which seems to be international?), and he travels all the time. Mina has a great talent for batting and rather than be privately tutored and follow her father all over the world, she stays behind in Japan to play baseball for her school. Her dream is to take over the family business from her father like he did from his. It seems Momiji’s terribly tragic story ended happily, as it seems he reconciled with his father enough to inherit his business... (more on this later). And then we have Shiki Sohma, who is surprisingly the son of Shigure and Akito! :O Shiki seems to inhabit two worlds, much like the Sohmas of Furuba. On the one hand, he is part of a generation who was raised by those healed by Tohru Honda. Loving, caring parents who love and adore their children. He has friends who care deeply for him - his best friends, despite all being in different grades, are Chizuru and Rio, and they all play Go together in the school club. His family are all deeply committed to him - Mutsuki especially is close to him, as seen in the first volume where Shiki was teased at but not seen, as Mutsuki called him to come to the house where he, Hajime, Kinu, and Sawa were having a hot pot with Michi, Riku, and Sora.  His parents both are and aren’t the Shigure and Akito we know from Furuba - Shigure is still the immature jokester and Akito is still the serious head of the family, but they both love their son immensely, totally and completely in a way that Akito remembers being loved as a child by her father, in a way that Shigure’s parents probably loved him. On the other hand, in volume three, it is shown that, being the son of the head of the family, and living in the Sohma compound, with the old servants, the “old timers,” and Ren, subjects Shiki to some truly horrific abuse the likes of which no other second gen Sohma child has had to go through. Shiki would greet guests who would give him gifts, only to find that within those gifts were notes badmouthing his mother. Ren attempted to stab him as a small child, something the old Akito would and has attempted on the first gen Sohmas, and it’s implied the only reason was because Shiki was Akito’s child. Akito threw herself in front of Ren’s knife and took the blow for her boy. Shiki is a quiet and withdrawn child, one foot in each of these worlds, and seemingly paralyzed over how to act. Much like Sawa, especially once she meets the Sohmas.

Remember I said we’d come back to Momiji’s happy ending? See that woman in the top left? That’s Momo Sohma, Momiji’s sister. In Furubana, Momiji has reconciled not only with his father, but with his sister as well! Momo appears to pick up Momo from the Sohma house; she is Momiji’s assistant and Mina seems to stay with her sometimes when Momiji is out of the country. Momiji has his family back!!! Speaking of families, Hinata Sohma, Hiro’s little sister, is all grown up and makes her own appearance in the third volume (and is a slight alcoholic, lol). She also mentions brothers - did Hiro did another sibling after his curse broke?? Megumi Hanajima makes an appearance as a teacher at Kaibara High School, and this is my second complaint about Furubana - there is not enough Megumi!! He grew up sexy! Second best glow up in the series after Momiji! It’s Megumi who tells the romantic story of how Saki met her husband on the plane. Also making an appearance is Makoto Takei, former student council president, unwilling witness to Haru’s natural hair color explanation. He is now a teacher as well, and Sawa and Riku’s homeroom teacher. He’s also still in love with Yuki, and lets Mutsuki get away with anything. He is often at odds with Ruriko Kageyama, the daughter of Motoko Minagawa of the Prince Yuki Fan Club. Ruriko has inherited her mother’s obsession, though unlike Motoko and Makoto (god those two would’ve made a great obsessed couple), Ruriko loves ALL Sohmas. I don’t understand how the worship of an entire family to stalker levels is an official school club but whatever. Ruriko is actually pretty cool, and while she’s pretty strict, she’s also on somewhat friendly (like, “person I talk to at school but nowhere else” type friend) terms with Sawa. 

THE STORY

I feel this can best be summed up in five sentences and in reverse: When Sawa was little, she fell down the stairs. She was found by Shiki, who simultaneously called an ambulance and fell in love with her. Her piece of shit mother sued Shiki because he was rich as shit. Ten years later, no Sohmas harbor any grudges against Sawa, her mother is still a piece of shit, the Sohma children are full of Tohru-and-Kyoko wisdom passed down from their parents, and try to help Sawa. And also they all hardcore ship Shiki/Sawa. The end. 

No seriously, that’s the story. It’s beautiful. I wish there was one or two more volumes, a cameo featuring the adults, it would be perfect. Could you imagine the terrible awkward jokes Shigure would make? “Honey look, Shiki’s in love with the girl he pushed down the stairs as a kid. Was marrying her one of the terms of the lawsuit? Hahaha.” And Akito would just be like “....baby, you and Sawa go outside while I smack your father, you don’t need to see this.” And the two go outside and we then see Shigure fucking fly through the paper door and a loud “YOU FUCKING MORON” follow him out with the classic -_- “did I say something wrong?” Shigure face. And Shiki is just a fascinating color of ruby fire about the cheeks and mumbles, “so yeah... that’s my father....” and Sawa is a similar color and staring at her shoes like “he seems nice...” and Akito opens the ruined door as though she didn’t just beat the shit out of her husband and calls out to them, “come and have tea, your father had to step out for a bit. Sawa, dear, I’d love to hear more about you. would you prefer jasmine tea or green,” because Akito has done a complete 180 and become a decent human being since becoming a mother and Shiki is EVERYTHING to her and if her son loves this girl then GODDAMNIT SO DOES SHE. 

[new2otomelol]

Her story... a Mystic Messenger Fanfiction

This is a little fanfiction involving a bit of two stories (Dracula and Mystic Messenger) Why? Well, why not have a bit of fun with something different. I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or its characters. When I use other names with regards to Dracula, I include historical names like Vlad the Impaler or one of his wife’s names, other than that, the rest is fiction. Hope you enjoy my mashup!

CHAPTER 1: IN THE BEGINNING The RFA, Ricka's Fundraising Association, something that I've basically been tricked into joining.

You see, seven days have passed since that fateful day I found a lost phone. I remember as it were yesterday, sitting outside of a coffee shop, tending to my latte wondering where to move next. My travel bag, containing all of my belongings, lay next to my feet. The  arm straps of the bag tangled around my feet to secure it  during my moment of caffeinated meditation.

For years I have wondered from place to place. Never setting roots anywhere, only working to stay alive, changing my identity to remain hidden. From whom? Simple, my extended family. My parents attempted to protect me from them. They trained me to fight from a young age so that I could defend myself, until the day they were killed in front of my own eyes.

They want me, they need me, or so they think. They are a deranged group of people that believe they carry an important blood line from Jusztina, Vlad the Impaler's wife. Bear with me, I know it sounds insane, I feel the same way as you.

Unfortunately for me, I share a resemblance with her and have thus dubbed me "the savior," the chosen one to help them become immortals, or "vampires" if you will. Do I believe it? I believe it's all a stinking pile of...sorry, excuse me, it's hard to remain calm when remembering the things these people have done. But how can you believe that Vlad was really a vampire? And most importantly, why would you bring his terror back to life? It's stupid and I will not let them get to me. My time with the RFA had not all been that bad. The members are great people and one in particular has really sparked something within me, Jumin. I don't want to hurt him, but I have to keep my feelings bottled up as best as I can. I just wish I could go to him and help him through his troubles, but I can't expose him to me... I can't place his life in danger.

Finishing up my ramen noodles and placing them to the side, I continue to work on my laptop. I check for my finances, my next options to move, other identities I can conjure up, etc. The phone rings and I see seven's name flash on the screen, here we go.

Seven: Sam! It's a full moon tonight! Time to howl at the moon!

Me: Seven, get back to work. I have stuff to do.

Seven: About that, why don't you tell me what your real name is?

He finally discovered the truth, I knew he would look deeper into it.

Me: I want to tell you, but I am afraid of what will happen to everyone in the RFA. Seven, listen to me please, someone is after me and if they find me, they will hurt all of you. I can't risk that!

Seven: How can we trust you if you've been lying since the beginning?

Me: You can't. I know that and I won't try to convince you. I don't have any malicious plans towards any of you, I was just happy to establish some human relationships for once. I know that you know what that feels like.

Seven: Have you been hacking me?

Me: No, I just can tell by your voice and the things that you write. I'm no hacker by any means. All I have ever done is run to avoid being captured by maniacs. But, I want to thank you, thank you for having me be a part of this and for being there. Goodbye Seven.

Seven: Wait! Sam!

Just as I was about to hang up, Seven spoke up to get my attention, but at the same time Alarms went off in the apartment.

Me: What is going on Seven? Alarms are going off!

Seven: No! No, no, no. I'm so sorry Sam, I really am. There's a fail safe I had to install and it involves a bomb. Please, please DON'T LEAVE! Don't do anything, I will fix it!

The line goes dead after that. What in the world? Why would the RFA need to install a bomb here? What is going on?

I don't play around, not when my life is on the line.

I quickly pack up my bag and place it next to the desk. The alarm is glaring in the background, but I will not be distracted. I open the desk drawer and find a thumb drive that has a weird symbol of a jade colored eye. I insert it in my laptop and start reviewing the folders.

After 30 minutes of reading and seeing images and plans of all sorts I can start to put some of this mess together. What did I let myself get involved with? My phone goes off yet again, but I've been worried about answering it. Has Seven told them about me? Do they know what's going on? How would Jumin feel?

I muster up the courage and check my texts first.

Seven: SAM!!! Please log in to chat at least, you're in danger and I need to know you're safe. I won't tell them, just yet. I trust you don't mean any harm. But please LOG IN!

I quickly log in to the chat room and find Seven logged in. Seven: SAM! Yes! You're alive! Me: I am, for the moment. Not happy about the bomb being here. Jaehee logs in. Jaehee: What in the world is going on? Seven, explain, NOW! Seven: I made an oopsie. I was told to protect the apartment long ago. Jaehee: What does Sam mean by bomb? Seven: That's the protection thingy! Jaehee: Now is not the time for jokes! What's going to happen to Sam? Seven: The alarm went off and anyone that goes there to the apartment that is not Rika, will set off the bomb. Kaboom! Me: Is there a way to reset it? Jaehee: I'm so sorry this is happening to you Sam. Seven, fix it ASAP! Just then I hear the alarm shut off finally. "Special defense system de-activated." Me: Seven! You did it! The alarm stopped! Seven: That means the apartment is vulnerable to anyone entering it. I will work on re-setting everything. Sam, don't go anywhere please! You'll be safer that way! Jaehee: Seven, we all have body guards assigned to us for a reason! Shouldn't she go somewhere else to be safe? Seven: No one can know where the apartment is, she'll be safe for now. Jaehee: I have to tell Jumin about this! Now I really won't get any sleep, first the scandals with his father, gathering evidence, him acting strange and now Sam in danger! Me: I leave my life in your hands Seven, I trust you. Jaehee, wait on telling Jumin, I don't want him to worry. Jaehee: You know I can't, he cares about you. Me: Okay, then please let him know that Seven is working hard to save me and that I am fine. Let him know I'll call him if anything happens. Jaehee: I will, then, please excuse me. Jaehee has logged off. Me: Seven, focus on what you have to do. I know you're working hard to save me and I appreciate it. Seven: I'm so sorry Sam. I'm on it, I promise. Seven logged off.

I leave the chat room and set the phone aside. I take a deep breath and exhale, letting the stress release, even if it is just for a little bit. So much has happened in the past hour. Think Sam, think. I'm vulnerable right now and I don't like it. I take my laptop and place it in my bag along with some documentation on this "Mint Eye" organization that Rika created, evidence on the prime minister and other things. Just what was she thinking? Was she thinking? Her work seemed erratic and overwhelming.

I pick up my long black hair into a pony tail and put on my backpack, grab my taser baton and get ready to go. All of the sudden, my phone rings, Jumin's name pops up on the screen.

Me: Hello Jumin. Jumin: Sam! Are you alright? Are you safe? Me: Yes, of course I am, I'm alright, please don't worry. Jumin: I don't know what I would do if anything happens to you. I barely feel like I have a handle on my emotions and now this! Me: I'm so sorry Jumin. Please, don't worry about me. Focus on taking care of the things you need to, Seven has things handled. . Jumin: Yes, I will try and stay rational through it all. I'm sorry my love, but I will go now and speak with Seven. I will make him tell me where you are at once. I'm coming for you. Me: Jumin, please be safe. Jumin: I will, I shall see you very soon.

Jumin hangs up quickly. I place the cell phone in my pant's front pocket and take out my burner phone and place it in my backpack. I need to talk to Seven and Jumin about everything, but should I? Should I continue to stick around or should I flee again? Blast it all, that's why I never form relationships with anyone.