#i might open asks again if anyone has clarifying questions but please keep any messages ooc

[trashfoundation]

i know you probably figured this blog was dead based on the (currently) almost 3-year hiatus, but i’d like to officially announce that this blog/au is permanently closed.

due to a number of factors (namely real-life stuff that keep me from updating as frequently, and not feeling comfortable using/referencing dr. br*ght as a character in the wake of the discussion around his author), i’ve decided that can’t continue this blog even if i were to get back into the fandom one day. i’m leaving this blog up exclusively as an archive, and please note that i no longer stand by a lot of the writing choices that i made circa 2019-2021.

that being said, i don’t hold any ill will toward the scp community or the friends that i made while participating in it, you guys are cool and i hope you understand my decision.

[cozycottagetarot]

Pick A Pile: Your Next 6 Months

July - December 2021

Disclaimer: All readings and tarot/blog games are for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional advice of any kind. You know yourself and what’s going on in your life best so I asks that you trust yourself above all else. Finally please take only what resonates from the reading which may be some of it, all of it, or none at all.

Reading Specific Disclaimer: Keep in mind this is just for fun and ultimately your actions and things you can’t control are the factors that will truly determine how the next 6 months pan out for you.

PILE 1

Theme // The Lovers Rx — Hello Pile 1! The theme for your next 6 months are all about finding your passion and building a relationship with yourself. Are you going through a rough patch right now Pile 1? Because I’m seeing you getting out of it or having a major shift by the end of the year.

July // Knight of Cups — With the knight of cups, I see you need to get your mood and mindset in check during the month of July. The energy you are in right now could be sooo much better my love. I feel like you’re holding back, there’s this brooding energy I’m picking up on. Focus on expressing yourself in some format (creatively, journaling, when talking to others) because if you do so I see you can allow yourself to begin this journey of transformation.

August // Seven of Pentacles — I’m picking up this energy you may potentially have of “when will things start to get better?” The answer— when you start putting in the work. That’s what August is about. Take some time during this month to really check your strategy at whatever it is you’re brooding about and come up with a game plan.

September // Ten of Swords Rx — So far if you’ve taken the tarot’s advice, then in September you’ll find yourself finding your momentum and strength again as the Ten of Swords Rx can signal getting off of rock bottom in a sense.

October // Ace of Pentacles — To me aces represent new beginnings. During the month of October something you’ve been manifesting (remember August?) is going to start coming thru. I’m also picking up on your financial situation improving or new financial opportunity coming through.

November // Ace of Swords — Your are going to be able to think and see things much clearer during November Pile 1. I don’t see a major ‘aha’ moment, but I do sense a subtle "oh my gosh look how well I’ve been doing" type of energy. 6 may also be a number of importance for you here too.

December // Death — Finally we’ve made it to December and I feel so much good vibes. The previous months may have been… challenging and have pushed you to grow, but when I look at the cards I see something beautiful, and I see progression. You started out, Pile 1, with the knight of cups riding forward with his/their white horse, cup in hand (an intention of sorts) and end with Death on their white horse but now a skeleton holding a flag of what we’ll call victory. I know, it sounds morbid, but the point I’m trying to make is that Death represents transitions and endings, and that is what December had in stored for you.

Oracle Card — Chant//Invoke

Yogi Tea Messages — “In every moment of life, you should be what you ought to be.” | “If we are happy, everybody looks up and shares our happiness.”

PILE 2

Theme // The Fool — Pile 2, I’m not sure the cards wanted you to know what’s in store for you over the course of the next three months. Therefore your reading is kind of short so if you have specific questions just send it in an asks. The general energy is very guarded. The fool here represents, beginnings and potential.

July // Ace of Cups — Ace of Cups is mainly about love and peace. I felt inclined to draw another card and out popped the Ten of Swords. Maybe you’ve had a not-so great experience happen recently, and July is about healing from it and trying to find a place of love and peace within yourself.

August // The Hermit — On this idea or energy, I see The Hermit as hinting that during the month of August you may find yourself doing a lot of self reflection Pile 2. I wanted to know what you were potentially doing self reflection on and out came the Six of Wands which, summarised, is about success and recognition. Self reflection on your progress maybe?

September // Death Rx — During the month of September beware of being resistant. Alternately, things maybe moving slowly and in wanting things to move faster, you maybe creating resistance to your blessings coming thru. Ultimately going with the flow.

October // Eight of Wands — I moved the eight of wands and under it was The Star which I hadn’t realised and was pleasantly surprised. With these two cards, I’m hearing if you heed death’s advice of being aware of your resistance to whatever is going on, you’ll see a sudden improvement in your situation. In October things are picking up and the things you’ve been wishing for will come to you.

November // The Chariot — One of the first things to come to me with this card was ‘faith, trust and pixie dust’. I have no idea why but maybe you do Pile 2. I see you having lots of motivation with The Chariot, finding balance, and success with a problem or situation you maybe having.

December // Four of pentacles Stability will be yours by the end of the year pile 2. However there’s an energy I’m not feeling. I pulled a card to clarify and got the Knight of Swords. Things are coming through for you in December but there is also a message to be aware that the chariot energy you’re carrying from November to December doesn’t morph into an energy stemming from greed and superiority.

Oracle Cards  — Mystery//Dream & Align//Ignite

Yogi Tea Messages — “Think seriously and think honestly.” | “We are born wise, we are born complete.”

PILE 3

Theme // 10 of Swords — Have no fear pile 3,   I’m reading this card as the next 6 months marking completion to a rough  phase in your life.

July // 6 of Wands — Success and   victory you’ve been growing and working on yourself or a creative endeavor. During July you may find yourself acknowledging your progress,  or other’s may comment on how well you’re doing.

August // 8 of Swords Rx — If you have been feeling powerless or trapped Pile 3, that is going to change. You may be opening your eyes to a situation or a truth maybe revealed.

September // King of Swords — I’m seeing you stepping up and being in-charge... being more levelheaded. With the butterflied on the throne, I’m thinking maybe you were more erratic in thought or and emotion? Or maybe during September butterflied will be of importance. Honesty and good communication is also key.

October // 6 of Cups — During October you maybe taking a trip down memory lane, or indulging in old/childhood enjoyments. Someone from your past may also be showing back up in your life.

November // 10 of Pentacles — I see you coming into abundance. It could be material abundance but it doesn’t have to be. There’s also a message of keep doing what you’re doing.

December // 9 of Cups — To end the year off you maybe feeling more content and satisfied with the things you’ve been doing. Keep up the mindset you’ve seemingly come into and enjoy the good things life has to offer.

Oracle Card —  Love//Empathy

Yogi Tea Messages — “People who love are giving.” | “Let your energy be used to build not destroy.”

PILE 4

Theme // 6 of Swords Rx — Pile 4, my chaotic little bunch. With the 6 of Swords reversed I feel you maybe regressing if you’re not careful.

July // 5 of Wands Rx — Here this card represents the end of conflict and moving on. I don’t know if it’s working out for you... I feel like you might just be like ‘screw it’ and move on. Throughout the reading I kept feeling like it was related to familial disagreements so for some of you that could be it.

August // The Fool —  The fool is about fresh starts, potential and being carefree. While I do see that, in this reading the dog by the fool’s foot jumps out at me as a warning of sorts. While new beginnings may be in the works, be careful of making rash decisions and not thinking things through.

September // Justice — I see things as balanced for you during September Pile 4, maintain that energy of balance going forward.

October // Queen of Wands — For me this is one of my favourite cards because I see it as being in your ideal energy, being your own muse. It’s time to come into that healthy, attractive, confident, creative energy.

November // Queen of Cups Rx — Why would you be wallowing Pile 4? You were doing so well and now the cards show me you finding yourself in an upset and moody energy. This is where familial disagreements really came to me since depending where you live the holiday season really kicks off in November and potentially so does family tension. Regardless of what it is, during November you may need to show yourself some extra love and prioritize self care.

December // 5 of Swords — You’re fiery Pile 4, and I don’t see you as they type to take crap from anyone. You know your situation best and the people around you best so there are two main messages with this card. The first message being one of ‘the world doesn’t revolve around you’. While you need to put yourself first, you also need to understand your actions and decisions affects those around you. Alternately — you need to claim control your rights, your power... whatever you want to see it as. If someone is taking advantage of you, you need to break free and be able to choose yourself.

Oracle Card —  Spiral//Cycle

Yogi Tea Messages — “Life is a flow of love; your participation is requested.” | “An attitude of gratitude brings opportunities.”

[ms-indifferwnt]

“I’m Cold”

“I’m cold"

“And?”

“Can’t you give me your jacket or something?”

“Can’t you accept my proposal and marry me already?”

In which Prince Donghyuck’s parents are forcing him to get married and he decided to propose to the first girl he sees to shut his parents up

Genre: Prince!Lee Donghyuck x Maid!Reader, Angst, Fluff, Arranged Marriage (kinda), Slowburn

Warnings: Curse words, Suggestive (I’ll add more if there are)

Notes: Chapter 9 out of 13 of Im Cold. This came out a lot 

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

Prev / Chapter 9 / Next

Donghyuck, your eyes were closed just as he had instructed and smiles, it was a long day and he knows your scared so he stayed by your side just as you had requested, he sat across from you (which you were worried about, you invited him to sit beside you so it'll be comfortable but he just holds your hand and tells you to rest, and with great reluctance and a lot of persuading from the Prince you finally decided to rest. He only pulled his hand away when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, Doyoung texted him after he clearly stated to not be bothered, at least Doyoung tried

Donghyuck stares at his phone, Y/n should be okay by tomorrow, in any case I'll instruct Yuta to stay by her side all day and make sure Yangyang and two or three of the Honoris (the knights that Prince Donghyuck Commands, lead by Sir Yangyang) are at her beck an call, he nods and types on his phone Yes reschedule it to tomorrow

"Your Highness?" Your voice made his finger hover over the send button and he looks up his hand immediately taking yours, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you while you're busy"

Donghyuck shakes his head "I wasn't," he smiles softly "Didn't I tell you to get some sleep?"

You returned the smile "I can't"

"I can ask for a glass of warm milk" He says and attempts to stand and then pointed a finger at you, you tilt your head "Milk not hot chocolate, you won't be able to sleep with the sugar"

You smile at his words "No, please" You held his hand  making sure he wont leave "Don't wake the anyone for my sake, I'll sleep"

"Then sleep"

"But I wanna ask the Prince something"

"Go on then" Donghyuck says as he looks at his phone where Doyoung was still waiting for his response

"Can I go home?" Donghyuck froze at your words, fear being evident n his eyes as you clarified, his mind was running with questions of this was how afraid you were to afraid to stay at the palace "Tomorrow is supposedly my day off as a maid, I would like to go home and meet my family if that's ok"

"Of course its ok" He answers visibly relaxing at your request "I'll arrange a ride and escorts for you"

"I don't need escorts I'm just going home, Your Highness"

"You're my Fiancé you can't leave the palace without an escort, you were at the the palace and you got hurt what if you're out there?"

"Please? I don't want to make this a big of a deal"

He was firm with his decision about having an escort, the he grinned as he had an idea "Can I come?"

"Sorry?"

"No escorts just you and me, It'll be great to get out of the palace and you get to go home"

You sat up and shook your head "Your Highness I just help my parents with the flower shop, it'll be extremely boring-"

"Then wouldn't my visit be beneficial?" Donghyuck says and tilts his head "Not only am I visiting my soon-to-be-in-law's but I'm also visiting their shop that should boost your sales"

"Prince Donghyuck-"

"I don't wanna leave you alone" he cuts you off, he sounded sincere and worried his hand holding yours and you scrunched your nose and Donghyuck had to resist the smile that threatened to leave his lips

"But his highness has a schedule tomorrow"

"I don't" He answered quickly, his other hand (the one not holding you) had already pressed backspace and sent a new message to Doyoung

"I really don't" He answers and gives you a small smile "Let me accompany you?"

You stared at him, will it really be ok? If the Prince neglects his duties for you, you might actually hit him "You can come" He lights up "Only if you have nothing to do, otherwise," you pursed your lips "I'll go with another escort, ok?"

Donghyuck nods, happy to have you agree "Ok, I accept your terms, now get some rest, I'll make the preparations"

You nod and settled back down "Stay with me 'till I fall sleep?"  

He nods at your suggestion and in all honesty, Donghyuck had no plans in leaving you alone at all, he watches you close your eyes and he looks at his phone where Doyoung has sent a message

Donghyuck looks at your already sleeping form and he smiles, he adjusts the blankets to cover you more and used his finger to brush the hair out of your face and he coos, You looked exhausted which was true today had been a long day and you deserved the rest so he pulls away and looks out your window into the grassy fields. He took this time to think about Doyoung's suggestion, next week the deal would be over and you will no longer be his fiance, he will no longer have a reason to bring you around anymore, he nods

He sighs, a bitter taste filling his mouth, this shouldn't be hard, why would he care if the deal is over? He locks his phone, What the hell is wrong with him?

"Mama, Papa!" You called and happily jumped to hug your parents the moment you entered the shop, "I missed you"

"Aww Y/n" Your father whispers and hugs you "My Darling, look at you" You smile and leaned into your father's scent before you get an earful from your mother

"Mama?" You called and you yelped as your mother hugged you before pinching your ears and you cry "Ma!"

"Y/n what the hell are you thinking?!" She screeched "Why agree to be on a fake relationship with the Prince?"

You pouted and rubbed your ears, as your father laughs, its no secret that he misses how you and your mother would play around, "Pa, why won't you defend me?" You whined and he laughs more

"I'd rather not get in-between you and your mother" He answers

You scrunch your nose "Traitor"

"Y/n" Your mother calls you again and you straiten up "Do you have any idea-"

"Lay off her Ma" A familiar voice starts from the doorway to the back of the shop and you squealed running over to tackle your brother in a hug "Hi" He chuckles and pets your hair before pinching your ears "Cause I want first dibs, I can't believe you did something so reckless"

"Pa!" You called out and your father pried your brother off you "Like you guys would've said No to the Prince?"

You're brother looks at you and he laughs "Come here" You moved to him and he pulls you to a hug "You're an idiot but you got a point"

You rolled your eyes and hugged him happily, You missed your brother.

"Still, why you?" Your mother asks and you moved to hug her and give her a kiss on the cheek "Is the Prince treating you well? Fake or not he should treat you with respect"

"He does Mama" You answered and held you mother more "The Prince is really kind and caring"

She looks at you and you smile, "If you insist, But that doesn't mean I'm happy with this Fake Relationship of yours"

"There is no need to worry Y/n is in great hands" Donghyuck answers and entered the shop Bowing in front of your parents and they bowed in shock at the sudden intrusion. Donghyuck yelps and quickly straitened your families posture, "No Please, Don't bow, I do not deserve that" Your family looked down, ashamed at there words and the Prince laughs "They act like you"

"Your Highness-" Your brother starts

Donghyuck bows "Please, It's Donghyuck. Even if Y/n and I are on a deal, We have become good friends, and I would like to be close with her family too"

You poked your brother's shoulder so he'll speak "It'll be an honor your Highness" He smiles bowing slightly and Donghyuck bows

"I would like to Present gifts to Y/n's family" Donghyuck starts and moves to take a box out from his bag "Consider this as a thankyou for giving birth to Y/n and an engagement gift from me"

"You Highness" I gasped and he grins moving to present the gift

"Oh my god" Your mom gasps and looks at the Prince smiles "Y/n mentioned you needed a new plot of land for your plants, I have brought the deed of the land, I hope that is alright"

"My Prince we can't accept this" Your father answers

He shakes his head "Please, It would be an honor to help" He takes out two other boxes and bows handing it to your parents "And these are presents from the King and Queen"

Your parents froze at the Prince's words "Your highness" Your father starts again and Donghyuck motions for them to open the gift

Your bother drags you away and puffs his cheeks as you laugh, "Y/n, was the Prince always, stuck up?"

You smile, you knew your brother was very insightful and he has the tendency to say things he regrets later on but you decide to tease him anyway "Should I relay your words to the Prince?"

He hits you at the teasing and you laugh, Donghyuck turns to you and smiles, he didn't regret seeing you here at your home, He adores your smile and you deserve to be happy and he'll do anything to keep that smile of yours. He looks at your parents "And I would like to buy flowers, The Queen always mentioned that she wanted the Royal Gardens to be expanded" He smiles "Do you have any recommendations?"

"Y/n" He calls and you and you walked towards him, and he shows you the flowers in his hands "Red Chrysanthemums or Heliotrope?" He asks and you scrunched your eyebrows

"That doesn't match the flowers In the Royal Garden, Your Highness" you answered "Lilies might blend well with The Queen's White Carnation"

"I'm not placing them there" He answers and you looked at him confused "They'll be in the plot of land by your room"

You blinked "What?"

"You never told me how plane that part was and The Queen wanted to extend the Garden and I thought why not" He answers and looks at the flowers "Which one would you think is better?"

"It is completely your choice, My Prince" You answered

"I'm asking you, Y/n"

You looked at him and he raises an eyebrow waiting for your answer "The Heliotrope"

He nods and hands it back to your mother as he takes out his phone to contact Doyoung "I'll take fifty of those" He informs

"Fifty is too much for that land, Your highness" You Informed as your parents stared at the Prince in his surprise

"I know" He answers and smiles "I have something in mind for the extras"

"Would you like coffee your highness?" Your mother asks as she places the hot water into a glass

He nods his head as you tilt yours, You're family made you sit by the Prince while they prepare snacks, You're mom doesn't seem to have notice the Prince's answer as you spoke first  "Ma can I get Hot chocolate?"

"No" She answered and you pout "No, too much sugar" She says and raises her eyebrow at you but you nodded

"Um," Donghyuck cuts in "I would like Hot Chocolate if that's alright" You looked at him, He hates sweets, why would he ask of that?

Your mother nods, smiling at the Prince "Yes of course"

Your brother flops down across from you "You'll give it to her, won't you?"

You looked at The Prince who nods "Is it that obvious?"

"I'm afraid so your majesty"

The Prince laughs and nods "Well it can't be helped"

"You don't have to worry about me you know" You started and he looks at you "I could always coax Mama"

He smiles "I know, but I thought this would be easier"

You opened your mouth to retaliate only to hear the front door of the shop open and a familiar voice pop in "Auntie where should I put these?" you stared at the figure at the door as Donghyuck looks at him he bows "I'm sorry for barging in, I didn't know The Prince was here, I wouldn't have entered otherwise"

Donghyuck watched as the boy looks at you before standing up again "No Please, Come in"

The man bows and looks at your brother as you stared at him "Hyung, I'll go put this in the storage room" He informs and moves to enter the storage room, his eyes briefly meeting yours before disappearing behind the door and you couldn't help but whimper at the action

The Prince stared at you confused behind the exchange and you seemed frozen, staring at the door. He reaches out a comforting hand to yours but your brother despite being a fan of the Prince knows the reason behind that look in your eyes and he was starting to grasp the Prince's feelings for you but he had to be sure "Y/n" He called your name before The Prince could hold your hand and you jolted as if waking up from a trance

You reached out to pat the Prince's hand which was closes to you as you stood up "I'll be back, just a moment, My Prince" You said and stood up running to the storage room "Hendery!" You called and disappeared behind the door

"You're quite quick" Donghyuck says looking at the door the way you did when Hendery entered "You knew what I was doing?"

Your brother nods "I'm sorry for interrupting but my sister, despite being your fake Fiance is still my sister" He answers and takes a deep breath, he knows that is rude but The Prince seemed to enjoy the conversation, you and your brother are alike, both of you aren't afraid to stand up for yourselves

"Who is he?" Donghyuck asks and looks at your brother, using his position as the Prince to dominate your brother who was older than him

"My sister must be very important to you your Highness" Your brother notes, his competitive side coming out "Makes me wonder how important my sister is to His Highness, may I ask why?"

Donghyuck seemed to have been taken a back by the question begore humming and regained his composure, Why does this bother him?  "I promised Y/n," He answers and smiled "I promised her despite being in a fake engagement," Donghyuck copied your brother's tone as a silent way to warn him about his words "That I'll take care of her"

Your brother nodded, The Prince's intentions was definitely to take care of you, he now has no doubt "His name is Wong Hendery" Your brother answered "He is my sister's Boyfriend" Donghyuck froze at the information and your brother looks at him to study his reaction "Didn't Y/n mention him?"

No. "Yes," He lies and looks at his hands, it shouldn't hurt, but why? Why does he want to cry? "She has, I just didn't know what he looked like"

"You should follow her, My Prince" Your brother starts "I doubt Hendery would believe her if she was the only one who spoke about your agreement"

And Donghyuck stand to follow after you the moment your brother said those words

"What do you want me to believe?" Hendery asks and you looked at him reaching out to hold his hand "I was hurt," he whispered and you teared up at his words "Why would My Y/n be in a relationship with the Prince when she just accepted my love for her? Did I do something wrong? Was it me? Did I drive her away?"

You shake your "No, Don't think like that-"

"Then Why?" He asked, his emotions a mix of both anger and sadness "Why?"

"We're not together, the Prince asked for my help and I wanted to say no but how could I say No to the Prince?" You pleaded "I'm sorry," you bowed your hand and a sob leaves your lips, Donghyuck who was listening behind the door flinched at the sound of you crying, he wanted to barge in there and hold you, to console you, he wanted to be in there with you "But the Prince is just a Prince," Tears started slipping from your eyes as you spoke, the build up of frustration and fear and pain you felt the last couple of days finally being enough, Hendery being the only person you could rely on and at the thought of loosing him you broke "The Prince doesn't mean anything to me, Hendery, please I'm sorry-" you cried and were silenced when Hendery wrapped his arms around you

"Y/n what happened in the Palace?" He asked and wiped your tears, he knows you enough to know how strong willed you were and that something must've happened if it upsets you that much

Donghyuck freezes at your words and looked away, tears building up in his eyes, he was in pain, why? he doesn't know himself, maybe its because he can hear you crying and not be able to do anything about it, that seems to be the only reason

You shake your head as he holds you close "Believe me the Prince and I-"

"I believe you" Hendery spoke and pulls away to look at you, wiping your tears "I promise, I believe you. Didn't I tell you while I courted you? I'll believe anything you say as long as you choose me in the end"

You stared at him and started crying even more and he holds you "Please Hendery I'm so sorry" You wailed and he looks up whatever happened to you must've placed a huge toll on your mental state "Please don't leave! I-I can't loose you! I can't- I was so afraid, I was so scared I- I felt so alone and-"

"You're ok, I'm here, I'm staying" He assures and whispers into your ears "I love you, It's ok, let it out, you need to cry it all out" he whispers "Let me take care of you, Let me" He says and you loose consciousness, "Y/n!" He curses before lifting you, carrying you out of the storage room and he sees the Prince on his way

Donghyuck looks at your limp figure on Hendery and opens his mouth to speak before Hendery turns and walk in the direction of a bedroom and places you inside and down on the bed, his hand intertwined with yours to whisper small promises of him staying 'till you wake up

"What Happened to her?" Donghyuck asks after following after Hendery and you

"No offense, Your Highness but shouldn't I be the one to ask you that?" Hendery shot back and looked at the Prince "What happened in the palace? Why was she she afraid?"

Donghyuck's jaw hardened, He had no reason to fight against the boy in front of him, he is legally your boyfriend and just outside was your family, he is at a great disadvantage "She was Physically abused by a Duchess and her daughter"

Hendery stood up "She was, what!?" He was angry enough to speak informally to the Prince but Neither could care less, You were more important than their status

"I took care of it," Donghyuck answered, lips pursed as he sees your figure "I saved her, and punished the Duchess and Haneul accordingly"

"You heard our conversation, which part of that is her being ok?"

"I don't want any harm on her, I came and helped the moment I heard about it"

"Why would a Duchess harbor something like that?"

"I was once engaged to the Duchess's Daughter"

"On a fake relationship?"

"Watch your tone" Donghyuck warned and Hendery stared at him unthreatened "The King thought it would be the perfect match, but I dumped her when I caught sight of her personality"

"She must've been scared" Hendery whispers and sits back down "I don't care about your story, My Prince, but you must understand, I love Y/n and I will do anything to make her happy"

"I can see that, rest assured" Donghyuck sighs "I'm sorry, for making your relationship with her complicated, but our agreement will only last for two weeks, and I will make sure no harm will come to her after I announce about our break up"

Hendery looks at your sleeping form and then back at the Prince "I know your Highness" he answers and kisses your fingers "She has a special place with you, doesn't she?"

"No, She is a friend" His jaw hardened once again at the words

"well in that case" Hendery looks at the Prince with a tilt of his head "Can I ask the Prince for a favor about Y/n's Birthday?"

"Her Birthday?"

"Yes, I was planning on surprising her with a sweets my mother bakes" He smiles softly at a memory of you adoring his mother's sweets "perhaps The Prince will be interested making her birthday more memorable?"

I’m Cold Taglist:

@staysstrays @tyongf-sunflower99 @jackyeongljin @rebel-lious-alien @daydreamiies @channiespup @jaeshark @itlittlefangirl @ncttboo @manutuankim @annetsocial

If you wanna be added, leave a comment♡♡

[thebrochtuarachs]

Something in the Rain - “Finding Solid Ground”

A/N:  Hi all! This chapter has been in the drafts for quite sometime now but I only had the time to pick up the writing. Thank you so much for your patience with my slow updates but rest assured, I absolutely love this story and daydream about the chapters ahead. As always, your comment and suggestions help a lot moving this story forward. Hope you all are keeping safe and healthy! Till the next one!

AO3  / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe : C3: So We Meet Again : C4: Friday Lunch

XXXXX

She was 45 minutes late.

Claire was running as fast as she could, catching some curious eyes on her as she raced towards Mrs. Kim’s Korean Street Food Hub to hopefully, still catch Jamie for their lunch.

She got off from her morning surgery quite late due to some complications but she still went as courtesy and because, in all honesty, she still wanted to see him. Their last encounter kind of left them in an awkward place and she was hoping that this meeting could help clarify some things. She has been waiting for this all week but alas, life (and medicine) had other plans.

Claire entered the store and knew instantly that he wasn’t there. The place was empty after the lunch rush and she sighed in disappointment.

“Claire!” Mrs. Kim suddenly called out. “This is for you, left by your friend”, she said while handing her a piece of paper.

“Thank you” Claire replied, opening it on spot.

Hi Claire,

Sorry, I left before you arrived but I have to get back to the office. Don’t worry about the wait, I really don’t mind but I just have a packed schedule today.

Forgive me if this is too forward but here’s my number. No pressure! Just figured we can text or call whenever is a better time to catch up. Just hit me up when you feel like it and I’ll be on the other line.

I do hope to hear from you soon. If not, I’ll be here next Friday, same time :)

Jamie

Claire did not waste any more time and punched in Jamie’s mobile number to call. After three rings, he answered.

“Hello?”

“Jamie? It’s me, Claire.”

“Claire, hi! I see you got my note.”

“I did. I am so sorry. My surgery ran a little bit long and…”

“Don’t worry, I figured that must be it.” he said cheerfully, cutting her off before she went into a long explanation. “I mean, you save lives and all, couldn’t be angry about that.”

Claire sighed relief on the other line and couldn’t believe just how understanding he is. So understanding that she’s starting to wonder if he’s even real. She hasn't really met anyone that chivalrous and it captures her.

“Oh, wow. Thank you - and thank you for the note and your number. My guilt would’ve eaten me alive if I couldn’t apologize to you.”

“You don’t think it was too forward?”

“No, not at all. To be honest, I was going to ask it last week before we got, erm, interrupted.”

“Well, that’s good to know. And in any case, I would’ve given it.” Jamie said.

She could hear his smile from the other line and she couldn’t help but smile too.

“Anyhow,” Claire followed. “I am so sorry I missed you today. To make up for it, would you happen to be doing anything tomorrow?”

“Hmm, let me check." Jamie checked his board calendar. "Nope, my weekend is free. Anything you had in mind?”

“Well, if you’re up for it, I’d like to invite you to the center tomorrow, see what we’re doing with the kids. Fair warning though, they get a little rowdy sometimes.”

“I’m game! Text me the details and what time to meet you.”

“Really? Great! Sure, I’ll text you the details in a bit”

“Will wait for it. Claire, sorry to cut this short but I have to run to a meeting. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Oh no, please. Go ahead. I’ll see you tomorrow, Alright, bye!”

-

It was a Saturday, two weeks since their encounter by the crossing, and now she’s waiting for him to arrive and bring him to one of the most special places for her.

Claire hadn’t absolutely thought through what inviting Jamie to the center would mean. Reflecting on yesterday, a part of Claire thought she may have panicked and this invite might’ve been a mistake. On another end was a part of her that was excited to see him and if she was really being honest, spend time with him, and show her the work they have been doing.

She had told her their meeting story and the extended invite to her friends and staff but left out the part about their lunches. She messaged the team on WhatsApp about their upcoming guest and her inbox has blown with messages asking her for more details about the man himself. She messaged that they’ll be able to find out for themselves tomorrow when they meet him and turned off her phone.

“Claire?” Deep in thought she hadn’t seen or hear Jamie arrive. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. Spaced out there for a bit” she embarrassingly admitted.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Jamie asked as Claire pointed the way in.

“Erm, nothing much. Just thinking about giving you fair warning about everyone upstairs. They’re quite curious about you, Jamie Fraser.” she said jokingly the half truth.

Jamie got a bit nervous suddenly and Claire felt it. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll save you if they get too rowdy. Be ready to answer questions though." She said, smiling, hoping to ease his thoughts.

“Is any topic off limits? Should I not mention anything to them?”

“I leave it to you. But if you ask me, just be yourself and charm everyone away”

Jamie chuckled and Claire turned to him. “What?”

“You think I’m charming?”

Claire laughed and smacked him in the arm. “Oh, bug off!”

“I’ll take that as a yes”

“Anyway!” Claire interrupted. “Today’s event is just art and crafts and a story session. The rest, the kids can do and play how ever they like. I usually just play with any kid who asks me to and time just flies and suddenly, the afternoon is done.”

“Got it. I honestly hope I can help more than distract or whatever”

“Pssh, you’ll be fine, Jamie. You’ll be fine”

--

The moment the elevator doors opened, a line of people greeted Jamie and Claire at the entrance.

“Hello, everyone” Claire greeted but to her surprise, no one spoke or moved. Everyone was just looking at Jamie. “This is Jamie. Jamie Fraser, our guest for today”

She ushered them closer to the stunned group and began to introduce them one by one.

Mary, the receptionist and admin assistant.

Mrs. Graham, the secretariat and head of operations.

Joe, also a surgeon from Claire’s hospital.

Frank, the history professor he’d met a week earlier.

Geilis, a botanist and herbalist.

“It’s nice to meet you all. Thank you for having me this afternoon.” Jamie said and it was only then that the ice was broken.

“Hi, Jamie was it? Can I call you Jamie?” Mrs. Graham prodded.

“Yes, Mam”

“Alright, this way. Let me show you around”

As Mrs. Graham swept Jamie away for a short tour, the rest of the group crowded Claire with questions.

“Okay, he is even more handsome than in the pictures!” Geilis excitedly said.

“Pictures?” Claire asked.

“Ugh, I sometimes forget you’re a doctor who needs to catch up to the times” Geilis pinched her nose jokingly. “Jamie was named one of Scotland’s most eligible bachelors in a tatler magazine last year. There’s pretty striking photos of him in a tux and in casual clothes.”

“I remember that issue. Gail had one lying in the house and I happen to peruse it one time. You’re right, the pictures don’t do him justice.” Joe chimed in.

“I had no idea. I mean, I just literally bumped into the guy on the street!” Claire said, a curiosity pooling in her mind. She had to look for that magazine later.

“Such a meet-cute story. Ugh, Claire! It’s like something out of the books or movies” Geilis added.

“Psh, he seems too manly for me. I mean, who is that fit and that put together.” Frank mused.

“I think he’s quite charming” Joe added.

“If you ask me, Claire, I don’t know what’s going on between you two but keep it going” Geilis added.

“Aish, nothing is going on. I just extended a polite invite to make up for - “ Claire stopped as Jamie and Mrs. Graham arrived back, thankful for the Interruption.

“Make up for what?” Geilis asked, not missing that info.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Mhm” Geilis hummed raising an eyebrow to Claire. She’ll pull it out of her later.

---

It was a long but fun afternoon for everyone.

Afterwards, one by one, the space cleared out, the kids were picked up, saying goodbye to the staff with some even approaching and waving at Jamie as they left, leaving him with a heartwarming feeling.

“Well, another successful weekend, folks!” Frank called out and the team gave themselves applause.

“Great job to Joe and Mary for taking on the storytelling and painting sessions this afternoon and I would also like to thank our guest, Jamie, for being patient and helpful with the kids” Mrs. Graham added, earning another group applause.

“Thank ye, I hope I helped at all today but otherwise, I enjoyed today and thank ye for inviting me.” Jamie shared.

“Come join us anytime” Joe patted him on the back. “Alright, everyone, have a goodnight. See you all next week, I’ll bring Gail and Lenny along.” With that he made a way for the elevator and it was everyone’s cue to leave.

Claire approached Jamie just as he was going to her. “Well, how are you and how was it?” she asked. If she expected to spend time with Jamie, well, it didn’t happen. First, he was whisked away by Mrs. Graham. Afterwards, it was Joe asking help to build his set. Next up was Mary who got him assisting on getting and serving the food, and the rest of the time, it was kids calling out on Jamie here and there and he was more than happy to oblige.

“Fun and a little bit tiring” he replied and Claire gave a small laugh. “But in all honesty, thank ye for inviting me to come here. Made me miss my niece and nephew”

“I’m glad you had fun and I’m glad you got to see what we’re doing here.”

Jamie might be overthinking things but he knew that Claire sharing this part of her to him seems like a big thing and he intends to cherish that.

“Anyway, I’d like to offer to drive ye home...or to the nearest bus stop” he added, panicking he put her in a tight spot.

Claire paused, eyed him jokingly, intentionally making him more flush and nervous.

“I’d take that offer but” she began and Jamie swallowed the lump on his throat, “I actually live nearby so we don’t need to drive”

“Okay,” Jamie sighed in relief which Claire found very cute. “Lead the way, then”

[marlahey]

under the same roof part three: all the time you need

a harry styles rpf part three of six written by annie and aj (marlahey and formerly harryonstage) ratings/warnings: disaster gays, endangered ovaries from dad!harry, women aggressively supporting women notes: enter the rest of harry’s family unit! in case anyone’s curious, annie tells sylvia to give her dad a kiss in vietnamese, to which he responds, good girl. before anyone comes for me, there will be plenty more opportunities for bed-sharing to come. side note: aj always pictured olivia coleman as officer warren.  masterlist | part one | part two | part four (21.12.20)

............................................... • saturday, 5th january 9:18 am • The second time you’re roused from sleep, sunlight illuminates Harry’s room. You lift your head, squinting, but more quickly you recognize where you are.

Harry is nowhere in sight, but a fresh glass of water is within reach on the nightstand, and a cardigan knitted with primary-colored patches lies folded at the foot of the bed. After slipping your arms through the loose sleeves, you take a few gulps of water and make sure to shut his bedroom door quietly on your way out. You hadn’t spent much time in the living room as per Officer Warren’s instructions to avoid the windows, but you can see into it from the hall. And since there’s still no sign of Harry, you take a minute to discreetly look around at the place he and his daughter call home. His flat is obviously larger than yours—he has two bedrooms versus one—but the morning light seems to stretch the space even further, like an open armed welcome. The atmosphere bustles with a little dose of chaos. Two brimming bookshelves span one wall of the living room, and plants line the windowsills. A half-sized Christmas tree stands off in the corner, wrapped in twinkly lights and strings of popcorn. A white fender guitar decorated with various stickers stands with a speaker beside the couch, and records tile the wall behind it: Pink Floyd, Fleetwood Mac, The Stones, The Cars, Hello I’m Dolly.  There is ample evidence that a child lives here, too. The walls are dotted with drawings in watercolor, crayon, and sparkles. You can see pieces of Lego strewn out on the carpet; they must be from that towering box Harry had towed into the lift a week before Christmas. A small smile tugs at your lips as you follow the smell of espresso into the kitchen. You find Harry leaning against the counter looking contemplative, holding aloft a cup of coffee that he seems to have forgotten about. He’s wearing the same shirt he’d slept in, but thrown on a pair of joggers. You bid a quiet, “Good morning.” He inhales sharply as his head whips toward you, his drink sloshing over the edge of his mug slightly. “Jesus, sorry,” he laughs softly, shaking his head at himself. You watch as he wets a dishrag and cleans the small mess. “Not really used to company my age.” “Oh… Sorry.” “S’alright.” His voice is covered in sleep; it almost sounds like he has a cold. “Coffee?” You hum appreciatively. “Love some.” “Were you able to get some sleep?” he asks, pulling a mug from the cabinet. “Enough, yeah.” All you can think about is waking up locked in his embrace, on the still-dark cusp of sunrise. “Thank you for letting me, um…” “Course. Cream?” “That’s great, thanks.” Harry nods over his shoulder towards the bedroom. “It help at all?” How are you supposed to answer that? “The real bed?” he clarifies, like it is at all necessary.  You listen to the spoon clink rhythmically against the ceramic, and settle on “I think so,” as noncommittally as possible. “How did you sleep?” “Very well.” In passing you your mug, Harry catches your eyes for the first time today in a way that feels like not an accident. “More importantly, how are you feeling about everything else?” You shrug, eyes glued to the cream swirling in your coffee. “Better, a little.” “That’s good.” “What about you?” you ask. “You’ve kinda been through the wringer, yourself.” “I’m good, yeah.” Harry pushes up his glasses. “I was thinking—if you don’t mind—I’d like to come with you to the police department this morning.”  “No, no, Harry.” You wave away the offer. “Don’t worry about that.” “No, really. It might make more sense. I saw him in the hall last night, and I was with you in the lift. They might need to ask some questions of both of us.” You consider this a moment. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to.” “I don’t have to,” Harry counters. “I want to. I want you to, y’know… ” he trails off. “I want them to get this guy.” You blink at him. There’s a strange feeling in knowing that Harry has clearly thought about your wellbeing beyond the night that you’ve effectively been trapped in his flat. Regardless, it’s too early for a battle of wills, and he has a point. You slouch against the fridge. “Alright. Well… I still have India’s car so I can drive us,” you concede. A smile lights Harry’s face. Suddenly your stomach rumbles so powerfully and for so long that it interrupts the conversation. You cover a small, mortified laugh with both hands as Harry’s eyebrows raise. “Well,” he begins, exaggerated. “Let’s take care of that… You take the first turn in the bathroom, I’ll fix us some breakfast.” “You sure?” “Go ahead.” He grabs a skillet from the drying rack, turning on one of the burners. “Thank you, Harry.” “It’s no problem.” You wash your face with something you find above the sink and brush your teeth on auto-pilot before considering your bundle of clothes from the night before. Your cardigan lays at the top of the stack. Four of your fingers fit through the gaping hole in its collar, and dirt covers one of the sleeves. You hadn’t forgotten about the shape it was in last night, but you didn’t consider it a problem until now, as you hold it up in front of you by the shoulders, frowning. You try to tame your hair with a purple, sparkly brush to no avail, so you take a quick look around to see if Sylvia has any spare barrettes or pins. Thankfully there’s a single hair tie floating in the bottom of your purse. You shrug back into Harry’s patchwork sweater—oddly comforting in how fully it swallows your shoulders and hands—and slip back out to the kitchen, where Harry plates grilled tomatoes and bacon. “We’re about ready to eat.” Harry turns the stovetop down to a simmer as the toaster pops. “How do you take your eggs?” “Sunny side up, please.”  He salutes you with his spatula, attention already returned to the pan.  “Can I help with anything?” Harry nods to a drawer. “Yeah can you pass us a couple napkins from just there? I’ll be right back,” he rushes, already halfway out of the kitchen. You pull a few paper napkins from their packet as he returns with two chairs that you recognize from his small wicker table. “Blinds are open in the other room, thought it might be best if we just eat in here.” He sets the chairs apart, facing one another. “Now this is living,” you deadpan. Harry laughs lightly as he gestures for you to sit. The two of you get adjusted with your plates on your lap, and your knees almost bump in the small space. “This is great, Harry. Thank you.”  “I’d make you bubble and squeak, too, but we’re fresh out and Sylvia hates beans so we don’t keep them on hand. So technically...” Harry lowers his voice to a whisper. “S’not a full English fry up.” You can only smile around your mouthful, unexpectedly endeared. The rest of breakfast passes in silence. You shouldn’t have slept on an empty stomach; you’re ravenous from skipping a meal last night.  He looks up at you eventually, a touch more serious than before. “Shall we think about heading to the police station soon?”  You dab your mouth with your napkin and nod. Harry stands from his chair and reaches an open hand down to you for your plate. “No, no,” you nudge him away with your elbow. “You cooked, I’ll clean.”  “Let me deal with these. You’re a guest.” “I’m a captive.” “No you’re not! You’re—” He breaks off, hesitating a moment before plunging on with an amused slant to his lips. “You’re my sort-of friend.” Your assumption he hadn’t overheard that comment to your mother last night on the phone was clearly in vain. You press your lips together against any inadvertent reaction. Your head swivels toward him, eyes full of lighthearted reproach. “Look, just let me do the dishes to give myself the illusion that I’m not just a freeloader here. Besides, I’m already ready to go.” "Fine,” he caves disapprovingly. “I’ll get myself sorted and be out in a minute.” “Take your time.” While Harry is preoccupied, you finish slotting the clean plates from breakfast carefully into the drying rack and pull out your phone to message India. Hey, I have a lot to update you on but it’ll be much easier to explain in person. I still have your car and I need it for one thing this morning but I promise I’ll fill the tank ASAP. It’s about the guy that’s been following me. Just know that I’m safe and everything’s okay. I’ll call you when I can. Love you. Send. That’ll have to do for now. Harry returns in jeans and a sweater. It’s still strange to see him so dressed down. “Ready?” he asks. “Yeah. You mind if I wear this to the police station?” you ask, pinching the fabric of his cardigan. You feel the urge to explain yourself—the hole in your sweater, the grime—but Harry’s already shaking his head. “Not at all. Do you maybe want something a little less… loud? I don’t even wear that one out, myself, really.”  You consider the bright cacophony of color like it’s brand new to your eyes. Loud is right. “Yeah, that’s not a terrible idea.”  Harry’s lips twitch. “C’mon then. You’re welcome to pick anything you’d like.” Pick? You nod because you’re worried the surprise is painted on your face. “Okay.” Harry leads you to his bedroom again, and over to the large wooden wardrobe.  He pulls the double doors open and you cannot help yourself from gawking a little. You’re taken by all the exquisite patterns and intricate textures of the suits, but it’s oddly wistful to run your fingertips along all of them hung in a row. You smile privately, a bit removed. “What?” Harry laughs from behind you. “Nothing!” you reply, glancing over your shoulder before saying more softly, “I just recognize some of these.” “Oh, thought you were sizing them up. My mates all take the piss… They say my suits are eccentric.” He rolls his eyes, reciting the insult like he’s quoting their words verbatim. You turn back around to his closet. “I think they look nice—I think you look nice in them.” You take a step back and crane your neck to the shelf of folded sweaters above the hanging rod. The extensive array of muted wool and cotton is a bit overwhelming. You spot the planet sweater he’d worn the first time you saw Sylvia, the oversized yellow one that reminded you of Charlie Brown, the black one with half a red heart and the letters, NY in bold white text… It takes a minute of jogging your memory before you can recall him wearing something more plain. Harry doesn’t own a lot of plain. You still can’t quite reach the shelf up on your tiptoes, but Harry is at your side immediately. “The brown?” He tugs it from the stacks and passes it down. “Yeah, thanks.” You examine the camel colored fabric with tiny flecks of black thread, and run your hand along the smooth purl. “This should do.” You tug the sweater over your head; it’s boxy, your arms aren’t long enough to fit, and it isn’t doing any favors for your shoulders. You have to roll the sleeves up past your wrists before the outfit can half pass as something you purposely wore out of the house. You spin around to face him. “Does it look normal?” Harry’s jaw flexes as he gives you the up-down. You fiddle with one of the sleeves. “Yeah,” Harry says stiffly. “Looks normal.” It’s bizarre walking through the level six hallway; it’s identical to your own, but the last time you’d been here, everything down to the carpet and light fixtures had been tainted by your deafening fear. What’s more is that riding down in the lift with Harry feels entirely different now. You see it all from his perspective, and try to visualize what you look like to him most mornings, standing in the corner with your school bag and a book tucked beneath your arm. The lift picks up a few people on its way down, but by the time it reaches the garage, you and Harry are alone. You catch his eyes in the reflection of the doors a second before they open. He clears his throat. “I know it’s probably… we’ll be fine, but stay close, yeah?” You look up at him and nod. It’s easy to keep to your word. Harry guides you to walk in front of him the entire way as your eyes scan the shadows in between the rows of cars. You’re sure you will never be able to see this garage quite the same way. “It’s the old Volkswagen.” “I see it.” You’re so out of it that you almost try to get in on the passenger side. It’s the kind of slip up that Harry might have teased you about, but he’s quiet and looking around, too. You pull the jacket you’d left on the seat last night into your lap, the two of you strap in, and you cannot pull out into the street fast enough. The mustard yellow envelope in the back seat is an unwelcome passenger, visible in your rearview mirror.  Who else knew about these photos? How many are there that weren’t in your envelope? Are they online somewhere? Would they follow you to law school? Your grip tightens on the steering wheel as you grind your teeth. “Alright?” Harry asks. His voice brings you back down to earth. He’d asked you that question when you pricked your finger on the poppy in your jacket pocket. He’d asked you in his bed on the most terrifying night of your life. And he’s asking you now. You nod. “I will be.” • saturday, 5th january 10:42 am • In the parking lot behind Lavender Hill Police Station, you’ve killed the engine but remain in your seat. Part of you is still reluctant to have Harry come along; keeping your composure in front of the police feels hard enough without the prospect of him being there, too, but maybe that’s the one thing that will get you through this. “Sorry.” You shake your head, suddenly aware of how long you’ve been sitting motionless at the wheel. Harry’s gaze is unperturbed. He watches you push anxiously at the sleeves of his sweater. “Take all the time you need.” It’s the same phrase the initial officer who’d taken your statement all those weeks ago had used. It’s what Officer Warren had said to you on the phone last night, and you’re so tired of hearing it. You don’t want to have as much time as you need to feel calm or steady or normal again. You want your time back. You want to reclaim all those extra seconds spent checking over your shoulder, the minutes lost to changing your routes, and the hours spent staring up at the ceiling when you should have been asleep. Rationally, you know that there will be time to relearn how to walk down the street and feel at ease, and plan that trip to Brighton you and India have been talking about for months. There will be time with Harry that isn’t this… stuck in a cramped space, crushed by the weight of your own fear. You hate the way you felt with him in the lift this morning; you want that back most of all. “Faster we get in there,” you say—half to Harry, half to yourself, “the faster we’ll get to leave.” Harry nods. “C’mon then.” The heather grey of the building is no less intimidating than it was in October, but at least this time you don’t have to pull the heavy glass doors open on your own. Inside, you speak with the woman at reception, who gestures for you to sit in a small waiting area just beyond the desk. People in uniform bustle back and forth. Harry’s leg brushes against yours as you sit. He doesn’t move. Neither do you. You have no sense of how long you sit waiting—this doesn’t feel like a place where it’s appropriate to play Solitaire on your phone. You can feel Harry looking at you periodically, but you don’t glance back until a woman with a familiar voice appears before you. She ushers you to follow with a quick, professional smile. Harry doesn’t quite offer the same, but you’re reassured anyway. “I’m Officer Warren.” She stops at a desk with an empty chair beside it. You take care to shake her hand firmly, introducing yourself with all the confidence you can scrap together. “Are you comfortable sitting here?” “Yes, this is fine.” If either Harry or Officer Warren notice your voice is an octave higher, neither of them make any sign. “Good.” She reaches past you to shake Harry’s hand too. “Harry.” “Nice to meet you both. We can also find a conference room, if you’d like somewhere more private, or if you’d both like to sit.” Harry speaks up when you don’t right away. “I’m fine standing.” He looks exactly as he had in the car—calm and willing to take your lead, so you sit before you can change your mind. Officer Warren smiles again, clearly trying to put you at ease. You wish it was more effective. “Right, well I won’t take up too much of your time. Since I took your statement last night, I’ve already got a copy of the transcript from our conversation over the phone, and you won’t need to go over all of that again.” Your shoulders cave a little in relief. Harry’s fingers hook gently over the top of your chair. “Okay.” “But,” she continues, “there is the matter of how to proceed. What we talked about regarding your flat still stands… it really isn’t safe for you to remain there, especially since the suspect seems to know which one is yours, and we still don’t have a clear idea of where he is now, or how he was able to access the car park in your building in the first place.” “So…” You shake your head, in either confusion or denial. “I can’t even go home?” “I’m afraid not, for the time being.” Her eyes are soft, regretful. “Not if he knows where you live. Not if there’s a chance he could get more photographs, or try to break in again.” Your stomach twists. “Were you able to figure out who he is?” You’re not even sure you want to know. Officer Warren’s mouth pinches apologetically. “Not yet. We have a couple technicians working on the security footage and the photos you’ve turned in, so hopefully we’ll be able to get something from them. The car he was driving had no plates. You haven’t seen any sign of him since we spoke last?” You shake your head, and she glances up at Harry as if to confirm. “Alright, that’s a good sign at least. He knows we’re watching, now. On the other hand, there’s a chance he’ll carry on, but be stealthier about it. Is it possible for you to physically stay inside, completely out of sight for let’s say, a week?” “I mean… where?” “Do you have somewhere else you can stay for the time being? With a friend?” You open your mouth, but the “Yes,” is not your own. You force yourself not to turn back to look at him; Harry’s fingers touch your shoulder again. “Yes, she does. She can stay with me. We live in the same building after all, so it’ll hardly be disruptive.” Officer Warren gives him a long look. You can’t tell if she approves or is displeased with him for speaking for you, but now that the initial shock has worn off, gratitude washes over you. Asking India to stay with her indefinitely would have been out of the question; there’s no way you’re endangering your best friend any more than you already have. You’d be putting her in a position where she couldn’t say no. She has four roommates. She doesn’t even know about the photos yet.  “That works,” you hear yourself say. This will only be for a few days, you reason—it’ll buy you just enough time to find your feet. By then, you can sort out a longer-term place to stay if the police still haven’t found the man. Officer Warren is speaking again, and it takes effort to actively refocus on the conversation. “The objective here is to make it seem as though you’re gone. On holiday. He’ll be keeping an eye on the building, no doubt, so he’ll notice if the car is gone, or your flat is empty. Is there any way you can take your classes remotely?” You find you can barely speak, so you just nod instead.  She leans in a little, her eyes finding yours more carefully. “I know it’s frightening, but you’ve been incredibly strong. This won’t be forever. In the meantime, we can send an officer back with you this afternoon so you can gather a few of your things.” You nod again. “Do you have any questions for me?” You force yourself to say, “No, thank you,” which Harry echoes. Officer Warren nods, almost perfunctorily, and stands. “If you wait here just a minute, I’ll introduce you to the officer who’ll take you back to your flat. You’ll be in an unmarked car, and we can arrange for yours to be retrieved.” “Thank you. I’ll call my friend now,” you say. “Maybe she can… I'll have to ask her to look after my cat. And it’s her car, anyway.” Officer Warren nods, apparently satisfied.  You shake her hand again, though your mind is stuck on this won’t be forever. As you rise from the chair, you feel the gentle pressure of Harry’s hand on the small of your back. When Officer Warren returns with another uniformed policeman, you don’t want to move, but your legs carry you anyway. Harry’s gaze finds the side of your face periodically like a lighthouse beam while you call India from the backseat of the police car. After reassuring her again that you’re fine, you gloss over the details of staying in Harry’s flat. You can tell even in her silence that she’s not going to let you off the hook that easily, so you start rambling about what to do with Chowder before she gets the chance to say something embarrassing while Harry is sitting right there. “Of course I’m taking Chowder,” she says before you get the chance to phrase the question. “Don’t even worry about it. I’ll get in a cab right now. Do you need help packing up?” “Yeah sure, thank you. But what about your car?” “I’ll take the keys from you and get it after. Honestly, it’s fine. It’s not like it’s gonna get stolen from the bloody police station.” It’s a stupid joke but you’re comforted a little anyway. “Okay.” “Be there soon. I love you.” “Love you too.” Harry glances over at you. “Everything okay?” “Yeah.” You smile a little and for the first time in ages, it doesn’t feel forced. “She’s gonna meet us at home and take Chowder for me.” “That’s great.” “I know,” you reply, a little distant. “Harry, thank you for coming with me… It was nice not to have to, y’know, do that alone.” “That’s alright.” His voice is equally gentle. “We’re gonna… They’re gonna find him. And they’re gonna fix this, and then everything’s gonna go back to normal.” You aren’t sure which of you he’s trying to reassure, but Harry meets your eyes and you nod. Back at your building, you meet up with India. “Think I might just pop home, if that’s alright,” Harry says, going in for the sixth-floor button on the keypad. “I told Annie a bit about what’s going on, but I owe her an update.” “Of course.” You look up at him in the reflection of the doors. “We’ll see you down there.” It’s your first time seeing the dent and scratches on the door to your flat in person. You shiver, turn the key, and push the door open.  “Chowder!” you shout as a flash of orange darts through your legs, meowing down the hall. The officer’s hand lands reflexively on his baton as your cat scares all three of you half to death. Once you manage to corral your cat back to your corner of the hallway, you struggle to keep him still in your arms. “Indy, his crate is under my bed—” “Hold off a minute, I’m going to do a quick walkthrough. I’m sure everything’s fine, but wait out here.” The officer leaves the door cracked open behind him. India offers a small, encouraging smile when you flinch at the sound of him announcing himself in your apartment. You stroke between Chowder’s ears; he is heavy and warm in your arms, and his fur sticks uncomfortably to the sweat on your palms. “All clear.” The officer reappears. “Let’s try to be quick about this.” India immediately ducks through the door following him, but you have to take a deep breath before stepping through the threshold. The place looks completely untouched. Had you been expecting company, perhaps you would have thought to clear the dishes from the sink or remove your laundry from the drying rack. After coercing an unusually talkative Chowder into his travel crate, you and India work as a team to stuff as much into your duffel bag as will fit. Shirts, bras, and pants hurtle past your head. “Indy, I’m staying at a neighbor’s for a few days—what on earth am I going to need this for?” You hold up the silk, strappy dress that just landed on your neatly-folded stacks, shooting her a disapproving look. “I’m just grabbing and throwing!” “Well just, y’know… let’s make sure we’re not speeding through this at the expense of packing with a little common sense.” “I’ve got this,” India says, waving down at the open duffel. “Go sort whatever toiletries you need, yeah?” Thankfully you’ve stayed overnight at her place enough times to warrant a travel case of essentials that lives under your bathroom sink. There’s makeup cluttered all over the counter. You stare at it a moment before rolling your eyes at yourself. “We should probably get going.” The officer’s voice from the other room startles you both as India zips up your duffel. “Are you two about ready?”  As you stick your head out of your bedroom, the officer is peeking through the blinds across the street. “Yes,” you reply. “We are.” Overnight bag and Chowder in tow, you clamber back onto the lift. “Did you get your toothbrush?” “Yes.” “Face wash?” “Yes.” “Pillow?” “Indy, you saw me putting it in—” “Towel?” “Yes.” “Phone charger?” “… Shit.” Ding. The officer steps out with you on the sixth floor as you thank him, and bid a quick goodbye once he reassures you to call if you need anything or, of course, if anything happens. India turns to face you next. “He’s this way.” You nod down the hall, and she leads. “It’s right at the end. The one with the wreath.” The doors of the lift close. You don’t want to think about the last time you’d been walking down this corridor and heard that sound from behind you. India moves aside holding Chowder’s crate by the handle, and the shopping bag full of his supplies as you step up to the welcome mat with your things. Harry swings open the door to his apartment after the second knock, immediately taking the duffel bag from off of your shoulder. “Oh, Harry, you don’t have to—” “I got it.” India elbows you in the ribs. Harry turns to carry your bag to Sylvia's room, and when you look behind at her, her eyebrows are raised above an animated smirk. “Don’t,” you whisper through gritted teeth. She raises a hand in defense as Harry returns before reaching out to accept his offered hand. “Hello, I’m India.” “Harry.”  “Pleasure.” He flashes her a warm smile. She nods appreciatively as they shake hands—at you, however, instead of Harry and your cheeks ignite. “Okay great. That’s settled then. Shall we—um… Indy?” You cut in, then turn to her, nodding to the door with I’m going to kill you in your eyes. “Lovely to meet you, Harry!” “Cheers, dear. You as well.” Harry’s attention returns to you for a moment. “I’ll just be…” He gestures vaguely to the kitchen. You step out into the hall with India. Chowder meows from the crate in her arms and she almost drops him. “What,” you hiss, “was that?”  She ignores your tone, then says your name like it’s a plea. “Call me if you need absolutely anything, or text me—no matter what time it is. I’ll drop everything and come straight to you.” “I’m sleeping two floors below where I usually do, Indy, I’m not dying.” “I know, I know… How’s a Skype dinner tomorrow night? I’ll order us a take away.” “Definitely.” You wish you could squeeze her in another tight hug, but Chowder’s crate impedes you. “Thank you.” “Love you, babe.” “Love you too.” She looks unsatisfied. “It’s going to be fine, I promise. Text me when we’re eating, okay?” You begin to walk backward into Harry’s apartment and blow her a kiss. “I will… Bye!” “Please don’t kill my cat!” You lean on the door frame, watching India’s silhouette shrink as she heads back down the hall to the lift with Chowder. You sigh and close the door, but as you turn around, your hand rushes to your chest in a gasp; Harry is standing just behind you, rubbing his face. “So I’ve just rung Annie while you were upstairs… ” He steps aside to give you a clear path through the hallway. “Oh?” “I’m sorry—they’re just coming,” he rushes, sounding a little panicked as you step into Sylvia's room. You set your phone and laptop down with the rest of your things. “They insisted ‘cause they’ve got a spare mattress, and I told them you needed a place to crash for a bit and also that you stayed here last night so… yeah. You don’t have to be here for that. When they come—oh, and they probably have Sylvia, too, if that’s… ” Harry trails off.” “Wait, I’m sorry.” You close your eyes and shake your head. “Annie? You mean—” “Sylvia’s mum, yeah, and um… her fiancé, AJ.” Harry tilts his head down, as if to gauge your reaction. “And they want to give… they have a spare mattress? But you already have a mattress.” “That’s what I said!” Harry gestures wildly. It must have been a lively phone call. “Oh, well that’s… awfully kind of them,” you begin, trying to keep up. “Would it be easier if I wasn’t—” “No.” He’s clearly surprised at his own volume as he cuts you off. Harry literally leans back, hesitating. “I mean… stay. They’d love to meet you. They’re my family and you’re…” His eyes flit back to yours and hang on. “You’re obviously gonna to be staying here a bit, and they drop by all the time so I jus’ don’t wanna overwhelm you, is all.” Suddenly, it’s your turn struggling to look at him. “Well, I—” “H, open the door! This is heavy!” a voice bellows from beyond the front door. Harry’s eyes shut momentarily. “Coming!” he calls. You stand there, in the doorway to Sylvia’s room, stunned at the pace with which this is all unfolding. Harry jogs to the door. You poke your head out as an explosion of noise disrupts what had before been so peaceful. A child’s high-pitched shriek rips through the flat, followed by a long, labored groan from Harry as Sylvia barrels into his arms and he crouches down to lift her. “How’s Daddy’s girl?” he greets. Sylvia simply continues screaming and tries to bend over backward out of his arms. “Hi, Harry.” A striking woman with jet-black hair waltzes in, carrying a large dish of food wrapped in tin foil, seemingly unphased. Harry shifts Sylvia to one arm, bending over to greet her in a side hug and quick kiss to the cheek. “Hi, love.” What appears to be a twin sized mattress with twig legs follows in suit, grunting softly. “Still heavy.” “Right, sorry.” Harry hands Sylvia off to who you assume is Annie as he hurries to take the mattress, revealing a second, much taller woman with sunglasses atop her blonde head of hair. She’s wearing red lipstick and bright suede pumps. “There we go,” she sighs. “I need a fag.” Harry almost takes out a light fixture as he hauls the bed. You press yourself up against the wall as he offers a quick, “S’cuse me,” and passes you to Sylvia's room. The two women look at you as simultaneous smiles light their faces. “Hi!” “Hello!” Sylvia waves at you, too. “Guess this one doesn’t need an introduction,” the dark-haired woman laughs, approaching with a hand extended. You notice that she’s the one wearing the ring. “I’m Annie.” “It’s great to meet you, Harry has spoken so highly of both of you.” You turn to the other woman after introducing yourself. “AJ.” One corner of her mouth quirks up. “It’s a pleasure.” “Thank you so much for the mattress, ” you begin, wringing your hands. “It seems like everyone’s done so much to help me in the past few days… It’s really meant a lot.” AJ tilts her head to look at you with a more meaningful gaze, and Annie steps forward to rest a hand on your forearm. “Harry hasn’t gone into a terrible amount of detail but… we’re so, awfully sorry for what’s happened to you.” She squeezes gently, her fingers in the crook of your elbow. The strange familiarity of the gesture disarms you. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through, and with your family so far away—I just… we heard about what was going on, and that was it. We had to help.” You nod and suddenly have trouble swallowing. There’s just something different about discussing this with women. “Harry’s air mattress,” AJ chips in, sardonic, “belongs in an incinerator.” “Hey!” His voice comes muted from the open door of Sylvia’s bedroom. Now that you’ve seen the both of them together up close, you realize how wrong you were in thinking that Sylvia only took after her father. Annie’s features are evident in her daughter’s deep, brown eyes, her nose, and the high angles of her cheeks.  “Well,” Annie starts, raising her eyebrows at everyone, “we’re obviously feeding you.” You laugh in disbelief. “No you’re not!” “We are!” She smiles as she sets Sylvia down, who weaves through everyone’s legs to her bedroom. “And relax, it’s already cooked so there’s no use in turning it down.” AJ pulls you in for a side hug, which you were grossly unprepared for. “Thank… you.” In your bewilderment, it’s all you can manage to say as Annie removes the tin foil from a full pan’s helping of chicken and vegetables. “Isn’t this supposed to be tomorrow’s roast? The Sunday roast?” Harry appears in the kitchen with Sylvia on his hip. He frowns, poking his head over Annie’s shoulder as she preheats the oven. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replies. They lock eyes. Something tender passes between them; part of you feels like you should look away. “Annie… ” Harry says, softer now. “You didn’t have to do all this.” She ignores him, setting the timer on the oven as AJ slides a small mountain of tupperware into the fridge. The kettle starts to scream. You hadn’t realized someone started tea. You’re not sure what to do besides stand by the sink and stare. AJ rushes over to fill four steaming mugs, portioning different amounts of cream and honey into each. She turns to the few stray dishes in the sink, beginning to wash. “AJ, stop tha—” “Harry, relax would you?” She whips his leg with a dish towel and he relents. “Why is she staying in my room?” Sylvia pipes up from Harry’s arms. He looks across the kitchen at you, and then down to her. “Well see, bug, Daddy’s got a friend who’s gonna stay here for a little while.” Harry points at you and twists so she has a better view. You wave your fingers at her, and Harry asks Sylvia if she can say your name, but she simply buries her face into his sweater. “Like a slumber party?” “Um—” Harry falters. “Sort of, but not quite.” “It’s a grown-up slumber party?” AJ chokes on her tea. The tips of Harry’s ears go crimson.  “Honey, it’s like when Auntie Kristen comes over to Mummy and Mum’s to stay on holiday,” Annie salvages. Harry’s shoulders visibly relax.  Sylvia tugs at the collar of Harry’s sweater. “How long?” she begs. Your heart falls. “‘M not sure, Vi.” Harry moves some hair from her face as she pouts, then kisses her forehead. “Not forever.” “This’ll be good for you, Harry. You need more friends.” Annie pinches Harry’s side before turning to you with a smirk. “Maybe you can finally start hanging out with people your own age.” You shrug to play along, pursing your lips against a smile. “I mean… ” “Harry doesn’t go out much.” Annie’s comedic whisper fills the room as she carries your tea over to you. “Neither do you!” Harry retorts, frowning playfully over his shoulder, attempting to smack her; she narrowly dodges. “Yeah, just the one time,” AJ deadpans, pointing between them and then nodding to Sylvia. “Jesus Christ,” Harry breathes before they break into laughter. You can’t help but join in. Sylvia’s head swings from parent to parent, smiling in oblivious delight. “Alright, alright,” Annie wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “Just leave the roast in there until you’re ready to eat. We should get going soon.” “Have you got sheets that fit the bed?” Harry asks, bouncing Sylvia on his hip. “Right!” Annie’s eyes go wide. She turns to AJ, “Darling, you mind popping down to the car to get those?” “Since I already hauled up the mattress, am I allowed to play the gender card?” AJ throws eyes at Harry. “Hands are full,” he replies cheerfully. He holds one of Sylvia’s arms up to wave. “Fine,” she relents, plucking the keys from Annie’s back pocket. “Thank you!” Annie calls after her. AJ simply waves a hand behind her head. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while later!” AJ begins to walk faster. Harry shoots Annie a jokingly scandalized look with a hand covering his gaping mouth. She squints at him and rolls her eyes. He puts Sylvia down, whispering in her ear as he points to the miniature arts and crafts table in the living room.  Sylvia takes a seat on the colorful stool, her tiny features already pinched in concentration as she finds a crayon and begins to draw. Harry crouches at her side, watching her for a moment before kissing the top of her head. He breezes past you before you hear the bathroom door lock shut and now it’s just you and Annie alone together. “I love Harry, but he’s a man and he doesn’t know anything.” You shouldn’t laugh, but you do. “We live ten minutes away. If you need anything at all—anything, I mean it, please call us. Mine and AJ’s mobile numbers are both on the fridge.” “Thank you, Annie.” She hesitates, playing absently with the tag of her tea bag before nodding to the living room. “Let’s sit.” You have a seat on the couch; Annie takes the small leather armchair on the other side of the coffee table. Her eyes are warm. You see a flash of that expression that had passed between her and Harry. “He is a good man.” Annie’s voice is so low, it’s almost a whisper. “One of the best I’ve ever met… You’re in good hands, I promise.” There isn’t a chance for you to respond as the sound of the faucet running in the bathroom interrupts. Harry re-enters the living room, his eyes flitting between yours and Annie’s with a curious look on his face. “Am I interrupting something?” “Course not, lovely. We’re just waiting for AJ with the sheets,” Annie replies. She must be killer at poker. AJ slips through the door with a folded bundle of checkered sheets nearly covering her face. “Miss me?” She perches on the armrest of Annie’s chair upon returning from Syvia’s room, an arm wrapped around her shoulders. You are acutely aware of the warmth of Harry’s leg against yours, suddenly too nervous to shift and potentially draw attention to it. Though you try hard not to, you can practically see the silent conversation happening between the three other adults in the room; if you had to guess, it’s probably about you. You categorically refuse to look at Harry, so you’re left with AJ’s nearly imperceptible eyebrow-raising, and a curl of Annie’s lip that seems to be a question and a confirmation all at once. The three of them are a little… too quiet. “Well we should be off then,” she says, drawing her hands together in a clap. “Someone needs a bath tonight.”  Sylvia hurries over and locks her arms around Harry’s legs. He scoops her up like she weighs absolutely nothing. “C’mon now, angel,” he murmurs, glancing over his daughter’s head to look at you with a vaguely resigned expression. “Gonna see you tomorrow, aren’t I? Gotta be good for your mums.” Harry fixes Sylvia’s wobbling lower lip with a stern look. “Hey, now. What’s this about? S’not any different from Mummy’s normal turn with you, right? You know you’ve got too much love pumpkin, we gotta share ya.” Sylvia mumbles something too soft to make out; Harry ducks his head close. “Tell me?” You don’t catch all the words, except, “stars.” His face crumples a bit. “Oh honey, of course you’ll still have your bedtime stars. They’re not going anywhere. Nobody’s gonna take your stars.” “And that sounds like the beginning of a meltdown,” Annie says, standing quickly and pulling Sylvia from Harry’s arms. “Best be on our way before she tests all our eardrums.” Sylvia momentarily seems like she might reach back for him, but then she looks at you as though by accident, and shrinks back into her mother’s arms. Shame knots in your stomach as the two women head for the door. Sylvia peeks over Annie’s shoulder as AJ slings her purse over her arm with the car keys in hand. You busy yourself clearing the empty mugs of tea in some small attempt to give them privacy. “Come ‘round about six, yeah?” Annie says as AJ waves at you and disappears first out the door. Harry is sliding Sylvia’s arm through the second sleeve of her coat. His and Annie’s teamwork seems fluid and practiced. “Sounds good.” He tugs her tiny knit hat more securely over her curls. “Love you, bug.” “Hôn ba đi, Vi.”  You have no idea what Annie’s just said to Sylvia but Harry leans forward to receive his daughter’s kiss, placing an audible one on her forehead in return.  He says something else to Sylvia that’s not English. That deeply tender look in Annie’s face returns. Harry’s hand falls to her waist and she touches his jaw to place a quick peck at the corner of his mouth. “Call us if you need anything.” She turns back to you. “You too. Our numbers are—” “On the fridge,” you finish with a smile, waving. “Thank you, Annie.” Harry shuts the door behind them and the flat falls silent for the first time in what feels like ages. You hear him laugh once before he turns to you. “Sorry about that.” “No. Harry, I should be the one apologizing. Sylvia’s so upset, I feel awful.” Harry looks from you to the door and back again, shaking his head as he moves towards the kitchen. “Oh no, don’t worry about that. She was mostly tired, is all. Happens all the time.” He pauses before joking, “Sorry you had to hear my really terrible Vietnamese.” You watch as he begins to rifle through the cabinets. “What are you doing?” “I’m sure I left it in here somewhere—aha!” He holds an empty mason jar aloft before grabbing a sharpie and the magnetic pad of Hello Kitty sticky notes from the fridge door. Harry scrawls quickly, the cap of the pen between his teeth, before sticking a note on the glass and holding it up for you to read the big, block letters. APOLOGIES.

[regulusblacksdiery]

I just want to say something...

So I just wanted to address a couple of comments/messages/asks I’ve received recently.  This is by no means aimed at anyone in particular, I just kind of wanted to explain a little bit about how this blog works.

I’ve had a few people comment on how “unrealistic” this story is and how “this doesn’t fit with canon events” and this is “historically incorrect” for the HP timeline etc.

I just want to clarify that this story is pretty much a fanfiction, just not in the usual fanfiction format. Instead of it being in chapters posted on AO3, it’s posted in short snippets as Tumblr posts. But I reiterate - it’s fanfiction. Things are allowed to differ from canon. 

This story in particular is based off of my very in-depth headcanon for the Marauder’s Era characters - most of which was established in my old (sadly deactivated) blog called Marauder-Texts. I’m going to write the story the way I picture it in my head, and while I definitely do throw in some canon events (sometimes they happen in different ways to canon), this is ultimately an AU.

Also Regulus is gay in this story. He doesn’t realise that yet (bless his little soul), but this is 100% where the story is going. And if that is something you aren’t comfortable with or you feel you don’t want to read then unfortunately this story might not be for you.

While we’re on the topic of LGBTQ+, I also want to clarify that this story definitely has an excessive amount of LGBTQ+ characters, like every other character is gay or bi or whatever, and I know this is unrealistic but that’s just how I intend to write it. In this universe apparently it’s extremely common to be LGBTQ+ and nobody will think twice about it. That’s just how I roll  😎

Other people have made comments about random things in the plotline that just don’t follow canon and I just want to say, I know, but this is how I want to write it. For example:

On this blog Lockhart started Hogwarts the same year as Regulus and in canon he starts Hogwarts a few years after Regulus.

On this blog Barty’s mother passed away when he was a child but in canon she was the one who took his place in Azkaban so he could escape.

On this blog Antonin Dolohov is in the same year as Regulus, but in canon I’m pretty sure I read he’d be like 15 years older than Regulus and most likely went to Durmstrang school (I could be wrong) - this one wasn’t exactly my choice but I made this mistake back on Marauder-Texts but by the time I realised my mistake, I’d built such a strong characterisation for him in my head that now I can’t NOT keep my headcanon for him, so hence he’s in Regulus’s year in this story too.

I’m sure there are many many other things in this story that won’t make sense canonically and may seem far-fetched to some people, and if that isn’t your cup of tea then please feel free to unfollow me (I won’t take any offence) because you probably won’t get much out of reading my posts.

Just one more thing I’d like to mention is that you’ll probably see some ships on this blog that you’ve never really seen before. Some pretty out-there ships, too, so just be warned and if you can, keep an open mind and follow the full story so you understand the context before leaving comments about how unrealistic it might be.

Anyway, I know this sounded like a rant and I promise it isn’t but I’ve wanted to say all of this for a long time and I just decided to get it all out there today for you guys.

If you have any questions about the story/questions for me in general then feel free to drop me an ask!

Thanks again everyone for all the likes, reblogs, follows and comments on my blog. I’ve said it before but this is a side-blog so I can’t reply to things but I love and appreciate all of you so much 💚

[spookyboywhump]

There might be some more follow ups for Doll but for now, a reunion (with some bonus plot stuff uwu)

Also I should’ve clarified this before but this whole lil Doll arc takes place some time in the future from when they’ve gotten out

CW: Past pet whump, dehumanization, mute whumpee

***

Unfortunately, the man wasn’t particularly helpful in providing information about his life before Nicholas. If anything, he seemed to panic when asked, which meant they were struggling to find his real identity and by extension, anyone who could possibly help him. He didn’t match any missing persons reports within the last several years, he couldn’t remember his name, it almost seemed as though whatever life he’d had before simply ceased to exist. The thought of it made Eli shudder.

Due to the difficulty he was having, he was quite surprised when Lane stopped by the room, opening the door to speak to him.

“Hey, somebody’s here for him.” They said, gesturing to the man.

“What? Did you figure out who he is?” He asked, confused that they could’ve managed to do that before even he knew anything. At the very least, he would’ve liked to have known before now.

“Sort of. Turns out his old employer has some sort of partnership with us, someone here must’ve let them know or something, they didn’t really tell me all the details.” They shrugged “From the way it sounds though, our little friend there was involved in some shady shit himself”. Eli wasn’t sure how he should feel about this, he looked to the man who seemed nervous, keeping his head down now that Lane was here. He figured if something was wrong, if this person shouldn’t be here, then he could stop things before they got bad.

“Alright, send them in…” He said hesitantly, and Lane nodded, stepping away. It only took a few moments for this person to appear in the doorway, a tall dark haired man with a worried look in his brown eyes, which widened the second he laid eyes on the man sitting across from Elias.

“Lexi…?” He said softly, and of all the reactions Eli expected from him, none of them matched the one he saw.

The man, “Lexi”, was staring at him with wide eyes but he didn’t look excited or relieved, he looked terrified, and after only a moment of recognizing this person he abruptly jumped up, trying to back away only to trip over his own feet, falling to the floor and causing Eli to jump up to help him, however the other man seemed to already be trying to do the same. Every step closer he took though, Lexi would back away, until his back hit the wall, he curled up while still staring at the man.

“Lexi, please, you, you know me-“ He said, but the man kept shaking his head, repeatedly mouthing the word “no”, and as he stepped closer Lexi suddenly threw his hands up to cover himself, as if expecting to be hit, and that’s when Eli finally got between them, forcing the taller man back.

“Leave him alone, can’t you see he’s terrified?!” He snapped, and the man backed off immediately, something Elias hadn’t quite expected.

“I’m sorry- I just- I haven’t seen him in years, what’s wrong with him?” He asked, and Eli looked back at Lexi who was still curled up, still mouthing the word “no” and looking at Eli desperately.

“I need you to back away from him, please.” He said, calmer this time. The man obliged, still looking worriedly at Lexi as Eli finally moved away from between them, glancing down at Lexi. “Do you need to say something to him or to me?” He asked, picking up the notepad and pen, to which Lexi frantically nodded, reaching his hands out and grabbing for them, Eli quickly handing them over to him. While he frantically scribbled on the paper, Eli looked to the man. “Can you tell me your name? And his name for that matter- how do you know him?” He asked.

“My- My name is Leon Morales, and that-“ He pointed to Lexi, “Is Alexei Antonov. He’s my boyfriend, we were together for three years before he went missing when he was twenty-five.” As he spoke, he fumbled with his wallet, pulling out an old ID card that very clearly showed the man on the floor, along with all his important information. He handed it to Eli, and he decided to hold on to it to show Alexei once he’d calmed down. He looked over at him now and he’d stopped writing, holding the notepad and pointing at Leon, staying relatively calm when Eli took it and handed it to the man. Leon’s eyes widened as he looked it over, and Elias waited until he offered it to him to take it and read it over.

Go away go away go away he’s going to kill you if you speak to me you have to leave you have to go before he finds out master doesn’t like you master said he would kill you and I can’t let him kill you please just go before he finds out I’m not yours anymore I’m sorry go away go away go away go away. He’d written it over and over, becoming less legible the longer it went on. It made Eli’s blood run cold just to read it, and he took his time to think about what to do next before looking to Leon.

“You don’t need to leave for good, but can you wait outside the room for a few minutes? I’ll come get you when he’s ready.” He said gently, and after sparing a worried glance at Alexei, Leon nodded, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him, letting Elias focus all his attention on Alexei now. He took it as a good sign when he didn’t flinch away when he got near, still watching him warily though. “Is it alright if I sit down with you?” He asked gently, and Alexei nodded.

He sat down in front of him, still holding the notepad and pen in one hand, but the other still had the ID card, which he held out to him.

“Is this… is this you…? Can you remember…?” He asked him. Alexei took it from him, taking his time looking it over before he slowly nodded. “Do you remember that man? Was he your partner?” He asked gently, and Alexei nodded. He couldn’t help but notice tears shining in his eyes. He reached for the notepad again and Eli gave it to him, staying on the floor with him while he wrote. His hand was still shaking but he went slower this time, less frantic than his previous outburst, and after some time he handed the paper to him.

Leon was my boyfriend. I loved him very much but master didn’t like that. He said if Leon found me or if he got near me or if he ever spoke to me or touched me then he would kill him. I told master I forgot about him. Don’t tell master but I still love Leon I don’t want him to be hurt. Tell him to leave, please, tell him I love him but he has to leave

“I… I don’t think you need to worry about your master.” He said slowly. “I promise, he’s not coming after you, he’s not going to hurt you or Leon. You… if you want to, you can go home with him. I promise you, you’re safe now…” He said. Alexei still didn’t look too sure of this, reaching up and wiping at his eyes. “Do you want to talk to Leon? I can give you two some time alone if you’d like…” He offered, and after a while of thinking it over Alexei nodded. Elias left the notepad and pen with him before getting up, leaving the room to find Leon anxiously pacing the hallway.

“Is- Is he okay?” He asked immediately, a scared look on his face.

“He’s… He wants to talk with you.” He said, avoiding answering the actual question. “You can go in by yourself, I’ll stay out here but you can come get me if you need anything.” He said, opening the door for Leon. He left it cracked this time, without Alexei’s voice he wouldn’t hear a shout or scream if things went wrong so he tried to just barely listen in just in case anything happened.

Things were quiet for the duration of their conversation, Eli could just barely hear Leon as he was speaking quietly and calmly. It sounded like it was going well, it lasted for a while, and finally, Leon came back to get him. He looked better, almost hopeful now.

“He, Uh, he wants to tell you something, he’s writing it down now.” He said, and Eli followed him back into the room. Alexei finished up soon enough, and Eli hoped for the best as he read it over.

If you really mean it that my master will not hurt us then I’d like to go home with Leon. I would like it if I could still contact you somehow just in case.

“Of course, I can leave you a way to get in touch with us without having to make a phone call.” He said, scribbling something down on the same paper. Beneath it, he left a simple message, If he is making you do this you can tell me now and I’ll make him leave. Alexei smiled just slightly when he saw it though, making eye contact with Eli and shaking his head before tearing the page out, folding it up and keeping it close to himself. He handed the notepad back to Eli, and he flipped through it, tearing out just a few pages of important things Alexei had written down before giving it back to him. “You can keep this, you probably need it.” He said, and Alexei nodded. He already looked to be doing better after his talk with Leon, and really all Elias could do was hope this would be good for him.

***

He left work late that day. There was a lot of paperwork to do before Alexei could get out of there, and after that he returned to his desk to find Lane had left part of the report from Elle, stuff about their owner that would be important to include in Alexei’s file. It took him time to read through it all, horrified by what he read about their owner, and then it took even longer for him to write up the necessary reports. He was one of the last people to leave that night, and instead of going home he ended up at Zander’s house. Right now, he felt that he needed him.

Now he laid on his bed, staring up at the glow in the dark stars stuck to his ceiling. Zander was at his desk, Eli hadn’t seen what he was doing on his computer and he didn’t really care all that much, still mulling over the events of the day. After a while of a comfortable, relaxing silence, he spoke up.

“I met someone today.”

“Really? Someone interesting?” He asked.

“Yeah. His name is Alexei. He can’t speak.”

“He’s mute?”

“He was made that way. He showed me the scar.” He said, and finally Zander turned around to face him.

“Somebody cut his vocal cords…?”

“Nicholas did. Or- he had somebody do it.” He said, anxiously fidgeting with his fingers where they rested on his stomach. “He- He used to belong to Nicholas, he was his last pet, he was, he… Nicholas said that I reminded him of him…” Zander didn’t say anything at first, and that was enough for Elias to keep going. “He- He almost looked like me too, our hair is kinda different colors- I mean obviously, since mine is fucking teal but like, his isn’t that far off from my natural color, he has blue eyes and freckles, he’s close to my height, that… that can’t be a coincidence, the way Nicholas acted with me…”

“Eli, I’m sorry…”

“That’s the thing, this isn’t my problem anymore! Alexei is the victim here, I’m just overreacting!”

“You’re not overreacting.” He assured him. “You know that both of you can be victims of Nicholas’.”

“I know, I know but… I feel stupid complaining when Alexei was rendered mute and then thrown away like he was fucking nothing! That fucking bastard got bored and threw him away- and fuck, did you know about their owner?!” He sat up now, looking at Zander.

“Kid, you’re gonna have to be way more specific than that.”

“His name is Robert Arison-“

“That name rings a bell but I heard a lot of names in my time there.”

“He worked with Cain, he dealt with international pet trades- do you realize how fucking big that is!” He didn’t wait for an answer, he knew Zander knew better than anybody. “That’s a whole other fucking issue, god it feels like it’s never fucking ending and we’re running out of room for the rescues- not everyone has friends or family readily available, if it hadn’t been for someone tipping off his old employers I’d still be completely lost with Alexei!” He groaned, anxiously running his hands through his hair. “I know it’s good, I know, I know we’re helping as much as we can but I just… I feel like it’s not enough…”

“You’re doing as much as you can…” Zander said gently. “Not to mention, this is still a fairly new operation for all of you, right? It’s going to take some work to organize everything to run smoothly. I think you’re doing pretty well, especially given how stressful it must be for you in particular.”

“We’re doing well but it’s… I don’t know if it’s enough, especially at the rate we’re getting people out of there… not to mention, we don’t even have the authority to deal with the fuckers holding them hostage and the actual authorities are fucking useless.”

“You can thank Charles Whitaker for that.” Zander muttered.

“Well fuck Charles Whitaker! Fuck him, and fuck Cain Whitaker, and fuck Nicholas and Clement and Robert Arison, fuck all of them!” He cried, snatching up one of Zander’s pillows and burying his face in it, letting out a muffled scream. He felt the mattress dip next to him as Zander sat with him, draping his arm around his shoulders. He leaned into him immediately, finally relaxing at his touch. They were silent for a while, Zander holding him close, before he finally spoke up.

“I… I want to help…” He said slowly.

“You are helping…” He murmured.

“No, I mean I want to help.” He said more seriously this time, and Elias finally lifted his head to look at him. “I… I mean it’s probably way too late, it’s been months but… if that offer from your boss is still open…”

“Zander… you don’t have to do that… I’m just bitching, you don’t…”

“No, I’ve been thinking about it for a while actually.” He sighed. “I was there for seven years. I lived surrounded by those people, I know them and I know what they do- and I know how the dogs think. If I can help then… then I’d like to…”

“You know it’s difficult… it’s exhausting and sometimes scary and I… I don’t want you to do something you’re not ready for.”

“I can’t sit around here forever. Truth be told it’s probably a fucking miracle in terms of jobs I could have right now, and if I have information that could be helpful then I should be there with you. It’s not really fair for me to stay away.” Eli knew he was kind of right, knew he could be more helpful than any of the clueless fucks running around trying to handle this- himself included. His boss hadn’t brought it up since he first told her Zander declined but he figured it couldn’t hurt to bring it up again.

He just sincerely hoped Zander was making the right choice.

***

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[zelenacat]

When We Were Young- Chapter 13- An Obitine Story

The difficult part of that promise lay with Tyra Satine. How would she get her daughter to Mandalore? Korkie went back to school with very few words to her, and all he promised was that he wouldn’t tell anyone. Satine felt sick to her stomach. Tristan, who attended the Royal Academy of the Sciences in Sundari, was spending most of his free time with Korkie and his friends. Although, Satine had only found out through the gossip columns. Mara was being trained as a criminal, but she was incredibly witty and quick. Satine decided that she wanted her daughter to have an education, and so granted Mara access to the Library of Lawmakers. She and her master criminal, Bartok was his name, had relocated to Mandalore and would be her eyes in the criminal underworld. Which Satine considered a great advantage, that she could tell no one about. But Tyra Satine, how could she get to her?

Then Padme called, and she knew.

“I’m coming next Tuesday!” cheered the Senator.

“Wonderful,” Satine smiled, “and Padme, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you know, Master Quinlan Vos?”

“Hm,” Padme obviously tilted her head, “Anakin might.”

“Can you give me Anakin’s number then?”

“Why?”

Satine sighed, “There’s more that ties me to the temple than what you know.”

“How? This is a secure line, Satine.”

“Master Vos’ padawan,” Satine swallowed, “her name is Tyra Satine.”

Padme was silent for a moment.

“I’ll give you Anakin’s number, and ask about him for you.”

“Thank you, Padme,” Satine’s fear eased, “you’re a darling.”

“I know, I know,” the Senator grinned, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Your arrival will be grand, that I promise.”

“Oh well,” Padme sighed, “I guess I’ll have to charm everyone.”

“It’s what you do best, Padme.”

“See you then, Satine.”

Happy with herself, the Duchess began to plan for Padme’s arrival. Her advisors were more than thrilled, Almec however, was slightly cautious.

“A Republic Senator visiting, after we’ve chosen to remain neutral,” he ventured, “wouldn’t that send the wrong message?”

“We’ll invite a member of the Seperatist Senate another time,” Satine assured him, “Padme is what the system needs.”

If anyone was surprised that the Duchess called the Republic’s best diplomat by first name, they didn’t show it.

“Is that all?” Satine asked.

“Yes, Your Grace.” the Prime Minister nodded.

Satine dismissed the meeting.

“Are you worried at all?” Parna asked when she brought in Satine’s afternoon tea.

The Duchess stayed silent.

“About the kids?” Khaami prompted.

“Yes,” Satine admitted with a sigh, “Korkie has been avoiding me.”

“I’m surprised you told them so soon,” Khammi commented, “seventeen years ago you said they would never know.”

Satine opened her mouth to speak, then closed it.

“She met Ben again.” Parna explained.

“Ah, yes,” Khaami leaned back, “the Jedi Knight in shining armor.”

“You know?” Parna squinted.

Khaami smiled, “I was present at the births of both sets of twins.”

“Along with Fesma and a medical droid.” Satine added.

“No pain relievers?” Parna gasped.

“Just some pills.” Satine answered.

Parna gaped.

“Our Duchess is quite the warrior,” Khaami smiled, “in her own way.”

“The she-wolf.” Parna agreed.

Satine sighed and stirred her tea, “I never thought my life would be like this.”

“I don’t think anyone could’ve foreseen what happened.” Parna said sympathetically.

“It is quite unusual.” Khaami added.

“That’s for sure.” Satine rolled her eyes.

Satine’s comm dinged.

“Oh,” the Duchess looked down, “it’s Anakin.”

Khaami tilted her head, “The Senator’s Jedi?”

“Yeah,” Parna explained, “he and Ben are close.”

Satine smiled.

“What is it?”

Satine giggled, “He’s congratulating me on my extensive efforts to undermine the Jedi, how very Mandalorian of me.”

“Ah,” Khaami nodded, “the hero with a strange sense of humor.”

Satine asked about Quinlan Vos and his Padawan.

“They will be accompanying Senator Amidala!” Parna squealed, reading over her lady’s shoulder.

Satine smiled and thanked the Jedi.

“Wait a minute,” Khaami blinked, “Ben isn’t his real name!”

Parna gave her a look.

“Isn’t Master Kenobi on the Jedi Council?” Khaami asked with a frown.

“That’s why no one can find out.” Parna explained.

“Satine,” Khaami sighed, “please tell me you’re not going to have any more children.”

The Duchess laughed, “Khaami, I’m 35 years old, I won’t be having any other children.”

“I’m just making sure, Your Grace.” the lady winked.

Parna smiled, “Where shall we have them meet?”

“The gardens,” Satine clapped, “with a picnic.”

“In full view?” 

“They’ll be friends of Korkie’s,” Satine explained, “just here for tea.”

The meeting took place on Sunday, and Quinlan Vos and his Padawan Tyra showed up in one of the Republic’s cruisers. Only, it hovered slightly above the landing pad.

“I’ll pick you up on Tuesday!”

Satine’s heart lurched as Tyra jumped off the ship and struck a perfect landing right next to her.

“Tyra Satine!” she whispered harshly.

Her daughter stood, took the Duchess’ hand, and curtsied.

“You must be Lady Mother.”

Parna giggled on Satine’s right.

“I am.”

Tyra stood and kissed her mother’s cheek, “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Your Grace.”

“Oh?”

The Padawan pulled a necklace out of her shirt, “I did extensive research on it, that’s how I knew I was Mandalorian.”

“I’m glad you still have that trinket,” Satine looped an arm around Tyra, “it was your grandmother’s.”

Khaami and Parna accompanied Satine and Tyra to the gardens, where Korkie, Tristan, and Mara were waiting.

“Howdy do?” Tyra winked.

Mara burst into laughter, Tristan looked confused, Korkie was horrified.

“Don’t worry,” Tyra sat down on the blanket, “I don’t actually talk like that.”

“Oh,” Tristan bit his lip, embarrassed, “well thank God.”

Tyra snorted, “I have some manners, I’m from the Temple after all.”

“Can I see your weapon?” Korkie perked up.

“Sure!”

“No,” Satine crossed her arms, “definitely not.”

“Why not,” Korkie asked, mirroring Satine’s stance, “Lady Mother?”

“Because,” Satine huffed, “you are the Mandalorian heir, and you shouldn’t touch a Jedi weapon.”

“Oh yeah,” Tyra nodded, “because he’ll definitely burst into flames.”

“Tyra Satine.”

“It’s true, Lady Mother,” Mara piped up, “Korkie can handle himself.”

“I’m seventeen.” Korkie agreed.

“Son,” Satine sighed, “you’d burn a hole through your head if you tried to use a lightsaber.”

“Not if Tyra trained him.” Tristan pointed out.

“Absolutely not!” Satine clutched her pearls.

“Why not?” Korkie asked, smiling wider than Satine had ever seen him smile.

“Because,” Satine stuttered, “because-”

“Perhaps, Your Grace,” Khaami interrupted smoothly, “we should leave the children to their antics and go enjoy a nice cup of tea?”

“A relaxing cup of tea.” Parna added.

Satine relented, “I would enjoy that.”

The Duchess began her walk upstairs, but then turned around sharply.

“No Jedi shenanigans, children.” she warned.

“Of course not,” Tristan grinned in a seated bow, “Lady Mother.”

Slightly frustrated Satine continued on her way upstairs and had Khaami bring a nice platter of tea and sweets up to her personal parlor.

“They love each other already.” Parna smiled.

“They ganged up on me!” Satine huffed, grabbing a cookie.

“That’s what siblings do.” Parna smiled.

“Their obsession with the Jedi though,” Khaami frowned, “that’s concerning.”

“We told them their father is a Jedi.” Satine frowned.

“Yes,” Parna spoke up hopefully, “but they don’t know which Jedi.”

“Let’s hope they don’t figure it out.” Khaami agreed.

“Let’s.” Satine nodded.

After her morning tea, Satine had a meeting with her council.

“Things are running smoothly for Senator Amidala’s visit.” Prime Minister Almec smiled.

“What about these reports of food shortages,” Satine asked, “they are concerning.”

“I agree,” seconded one of her advisors, “we must investigate this problem.”

As more and more agreements to this statement were reiterated, Satine noticed Almec’s knuckles whiten.

“What do you think, Prime Minister?” she asked, suddenly skeptical.

“I think that we should focus on one event at a time,” Prime Minister Almec suggested, “perhaps this should be a problem for after the Senator leaves.”

Satine frowned, if there was one thing she hated, it was corruption, and she now knew that people were willing to lie to her.

“I think we shall keep watch on this problem,” Satine decided, “but I also think we should begin our efforts now.”

“I agree with Her Grace.”

Satine looked around the table, no one disagreed.

“Dismissed.” Satine announced.

Only the Prime Minister stayed back.

“Prime Minister?” Satine questioned, tilting her head.

“I do not think it wise to show the Republic we are weak.” he responded.

“We are only as weak as our insecurities are strong,” Satine stood, “Mandalore stands firm in her position.”

Almec bowed, “Your Grace.”

Parna met Satine at the door.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just,” Parna sighed, “Tristan has just mind tricked a guard.”

Satine coughed.

“And Korkie,” Parna continued, “Tyra seems to think he’s powerful.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Satine shook her head, “not my Korkie.”

“Come see.” Parna advised.

Instead of the garden where she left them, Satine’s children were at the center of the garden’s maze. Surrounded by a large picnic and floating objects.

The Duchess was furious, “What in the name of Mandalore-”

The flying objects dropped.

Satine raised an eyebrow, “Didn’t I say no Jedi shenanigans?”

“Sorry, Lady Mother,” Tristan smiled, “but I can do mind tricks now!”

Crossing her arms, Satine told her second son to fix the guard. After some pouting, he did.

“Your Grace!”

“Please return to your post,” Satine nodded, “I must speak to my nephew and his friends.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

After he was gone, Satine noticed all the children staring at her.

“What?”

“You called me your nephew.” Korkie said sadly.

Satine shook her head, “That particular guard is not on the list of people who know.”

“Which guards are?” Tyra asked.

“My two head guards know half the story,” Satine clarified, “but you must not tell anyone.”

“Tristan has great balance,” Tyra spoke up, “he should practice lightsaber movements.”

The Duchess’ voice grew cold, “There is no need for that.”

The children looked at each other, surprised.

“Lady Khaami said our father was a powerful Jedi,” Tristan crossed his arms, “why can’t we learn his art?”

“Because he,” Satine stuttered, “he, he doesn’t know about you.”

“We know that, Lady Mother,” Mara spoke, “that’s not a good enough reason.”

Satine let the silence hang.

“Would it be so terrible to assume,” Korkie began, “that our father is a high profile figure?”

“No,” Satine swallowed, “no it would not.”

“And no doubt your reputation,” Tyra frowned, “even at the Temple people are surprised I hail from the Mandalore system.”

“And Mandalore’s dignity.” Tristan added.

“All I ask,” Satine began quietly, “is that if you do anything remotely related to the Jedi, then please do it in secret.”

“Yes, Lady Mother.” Mara nodded.

“We understand, Lady Mother.” Tristan agreed.

Korkie stood and embraced his mother.

“You raised me,” he said, “even though I didn’t know, I would hate to remind you of hard times.”

The Duchess sobbed, “Thank you, Korkie.”

“We won’t practice if it reminds you of our father.” Tyra insisted.

“No, practice,” Satine wiped her eyes, “just don’t tell me about your progress.”

Parna came forward and steadied Satine.

“We have the final touches to prepare for Padme’s visit.”

“Yes,” Satine swallowed, “please children, excuse me.”

The final steps to prepare for Padme’s visit were picking her rooms. Korkie still slept on the same floor as her, and his siblings would be placed in the remaining rooms around him. Which left the lower floor.

“Can we give Padme a room on the lower floor,” Satine asked, “Would she be offended?”

“I cannot say, Your Grace,” responded the palace’s head maid, “she seems sensible, but we do not wish to offend the Republic.”

Parna leaned in close to Satine, “Tyra and Mara can share, and if Tristan bunked with Korkie she could fit.”

The Duchess considered this, she had never shared a room with Bo-Katan even when they were young.

“I hear the Prince’s friends will be staying till Tuesday morning.” stated the head maid.

“Yes,” Satine nodded, “but we will have them share, I’m sure they won’t mind.”

Hesitant, the maid smiled, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

The Duchess arranged for a quiet dinner in a small dining room with her children. Then, she asked the guards if they knew where the Prince and his friends were.

“The ballroom, Your Grace.”

“Thank you.” Satine nodded.

The Duchess of Mandalore was shocked to find her kids wrestling each other on the ballroom floor. Well, it was more like Tyra was teaching her siblings self defense with the added bonus of getting to beat them up.

“It’s alright, Lady Mother,” Mara smiled, seeing the Duchess first, “we’re alright.”

Satine gawked, “Tyra Satine, stop choking your twin brother!”

“I’m not-”

Korkie, who was back to the floor, kneed Tyra in the chin and twisted on top of her.

“Go Korkie!” Tristan cheered.

Satine sighed, “Don’t encourage your brother, Tristan.”

Mara pulled Korkie off of Tyra.

“Come on, I was about to win!”

“No you weren’t,” Tyra stretched, “Tristan, you want to go next?”

Tristan opened his mouth to speak.

“Absolutely not,” Satine crossed her arms, “I have ordered a special dinner and I will not have my children bruised.”

“Dinner,” Mara frowned, “it’s not even four o’clock.”

“Lady Mother,” Tyra’s knit her eyebrows, “that doesn’t make any sense.”

Tristan and Korkie looked at each other.

“Knowing our Lady Mother,” Korkie began, “we will likely have to dress for the occasion.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry,” Tristan grinned, “I’m sure you’ll take kindly to the royal treatment, Tyra.”

“Ha ha.”

“Children,” Satine smiled, “tonight I would like to imagine I raised you myself, you will have to act your birthright.”

“But it’s just us, right?” Mara asked.

“Yes,” Satine nodded, “just us.”

“Korkie,” the Duchess turned, “give Tristan one of your old uniforms. Tyra and Mara shall come with me.”

Parna and Khaami made grand gestures to welcome Tyra Satine and Mara to the Duchess’ royal wardrobe. 

Mara gawked, “I’ve never seen anything so fancy before in my life!”

Tyra clapped, “Oh my God, we get to wear these?”

“Yes,” Satine smiled, “pick out a dress.”

Squealing, the Duchess’ daughters ran through the rows of gowns and skirts of their mother’s walk-in closet.

“You’re so stylish, Lady Mother.” Tyra winked.

“Some of these I haven’t worn in years.” Satine confessed.

“I’ve watched some of your speeches,” Mara nodded, “you generally stick to the house colors.”

Satine was humbled, “You’ve watched my speeches?”

Mara blushed, “He was never subtle.”

Satine smiled.

“I like this one!” Tyra smiled, pulling out a salmon pink gown with a satin ivory sash and lace. 

“What, Tyra,” Mara asked, “why?”

“We don’t get to play dress up at the temple,” Tyra explained, “and I think I'm gonna love being a secret princess.”

Satine laughed at that.

Mara gasped, “OMG, we should be matching!”

Tyra raised an eyebrow, “You?”

“Criminal trainees need baby lace too!” Mara whined.

Laughing, Satine pulled out a lilac version of the same dress.

“I’ll leave you two to get changed,” Satine beckoned for Khaami, “Lady Khaami will bring the head seamstress to see you.”

“The head seamstress?”

The Duchess grinned, “Alterations of course.”

Mara gasped, Tyra squealed. Khaami winked as she passed them.

“Parna,” Satine turned, “watch the girls while I check on the boys.” “Yes, Your Grace.” the lady smiled.

Satine made her way over to Korkie’s room, where much rustling emanated from within.

“Ow, Tristan-”

“Move over, Korkie.”

“Boys,” Satine smiled sweetly, “will you be done soon?”

“These uniforms are all tight, Lady Mother.” Tristan complained.

“Wear something in pastel blue, then, with white accents,” the Duchess suggested, “it will go with your sisters’ outfits.”

“Yes, Lady Mother.” Korkie agreed.

With a triumphant grin, Satine sauntered off back to her room.

“Mara and Tyra are being fitted in the parlor,” Parna told her, “shall we pick out your dress?”

“Yes,” the Duchess straightened, “I should like my pale yellow dress for this evening.”

Parna clapped, “I know just the one.”

By the time the entire family was dressed for dinner, it was almost time for the meal. Satine took her daughters and met her sons in the hallway.

“You look lovely, boys.” the Duchess smiled, pride in her features.

“We’re matching,” Tristan observed, “I’m sure you planned that, Lady Mother.”

“I most certainly did,” Satine nodded, “now, we will enter in proper form.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, hush, Tyra Satine,” the Duchess waved, “Korkie, take your twin sister on your right arm.”

Korke made a show of walking over to Tyra, jutting out his right arm, and placing Tyra’s left arm through his.

“Tristan, do the same with your twin sister.” Satine ordered.

With a little less grace and a couple hesitations, Tristan did the same.

“Korkie and Tyra will walk behind me,” the Duchess instructed, “and Tristan and Mara, you will follow.”

“Ooh,” Mara grinned, “fancy.”

“You ready?”

“Yes, Lady Mother.” answered a quartet of voices.

Satine lead her children into the private dining room, applauding herself silently as they all gasped.

“What a feast, Lady Mother!” Tyra gasped.

Mara choked back a sob and Satine wrapped her arm around her youngest.

“I’m afraid we’ll forgo servants tonight,” the Duchess explained, “servants and all, but please sit down and serve yourselves.”

Tyra made to sit down, but Korke stopped her.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he smiled, pulling out her chair, “only the best for a princess of Mandalore.”

Delighted, Tyra sat down.

Pulling out Mara’s chair, Tristan asked, “Are you trying to outdo me, Brother?”

Sliding into her chair with ease, Mara grinned up at her mother as Tristan pushed in her chair.

“Who shall pull out Lady Mother’s chair?” Tyra asked, looking to stir up violence.

Korkie and Tristan shared a look before racing over to their mother’s chair.

“How about both of you work together,” Satine suggested with a smile.

Tristan pulled out the chair anyway, stubbing Korkie’s toe.

“Lady Mother.” bowed her oldest.

Mara snorted. Satine sat down.

“Now that we’re all seated,” began the Duchess when everyone was comfortable, “I was hoping you’d all tell me a story about your childhood, a favorite moment, so that I get to know you.”

The children looked around the table.

“While eating of course.” Satine amended.

The Duchess worried that she had asked too much of her children, but then the silence dissipated and they began to serve themselves.

“After I had gotten my lightsaber,” Tyra began with a grin, “the Jedi Masters were supposed to choose a padawan, Master Vos chose me because I told him I had better hair than he did.”

Mara snorted, “Proud at an early age huh, Tyra?”

“He then asked me why I thought so,” Tyra gestured, “and I said because I was Mandalorian. Then I said that I researched my necklace and voila, I had a master.”

“Wow,” Satine shook her head, “that’s not usually how I remember hearing how it goes.”

“Lady Mother,” Tyra rested her chin on her hands, “you know Jedi stories?”

“I’ve known a few Jedi.” Satine nodded.

“Wait,” Mara paused, “isn’t our father-”

“I mean Master Qui-Gon-”

“You knew Master Qui-Gon,” Tyra perked up, “Master Vos says he’s the only one who could rival me for best hair.”

Satine burst into laughter.

“Lady Mother?”

“Tyra Satine,” smiled the Duchess, “you would for sure win that contest.”

“Really?” Tyra perked up.

“Master Qui-Gon once went a week without washing his hair,” Satine smiled at the memory, “it nearly destroyed him.”

Tyra shivered, “Sounds dreadful.”

Korkie sighed, “I now know so much more about you, Tyra.”

Tyra snorted, “Oh please, that wasn’t even the best one.”

“Mara,” Tristan suggested, “why don’t you go next?”

“Ooh,” Mara clapped, setting down her spoon, “how about the time I mind tricked the head of the Coruscanti Crime Ring!”

Satine gaped, “You did what?”

Mara blushed, “Don’t worry, Lady Mother, we’re not allowed back there.”

Satine sighed, head in her hands.

“I’ll go next,” Tristan piped up, “when I was seven I tried bokator for the first time.”

“Teach me?” Korkie asked.

Satine was so startled she coughed on her own spit. Tyra laughed.

“Anyways,” Tristan continued, “I broke a kid’s nose and then proceeded to tell him the process of how the doctors would fix it.”

“You’re such a nerd, Tristan.” Mara teased.

“When I was five,” Korkie began, “I told the head of Clan Saxon that she reminded me of a pooka.”

Satine groaned, “I remember that.”

“You,” Tyra asked, “the perfect manners man?”

“Yeah.”

“He got no dessert for a week,” Satine recounted, “what was it you liked, Korkie?”

The Duke of Sundari grinned, “Those packets with flavored powder and chalk-like sticks.”

“I loved that!” Mara gasped.

“I wasn’t even allowed to have that.” Tristan crossed his arms.

Tyra looked between her siblings, “Did I miss out on something?”

“Definitely.” Satine stated, reaching for her drink.

As dinner progressed, the Duchess felt a happy longing, wishing for this to have always been her life.

“Remember, children,” Satine spoke before dismissing her children, “Senator Amidala is coming on Tuesday.”

“We know, Lady Mother.”

“You’ll have to remain in the background,” Satine advised, “but you’ll meet her later on.”

After bidding her children goodnight, the Duchess went up to her room, sending Khaami to bring nightdresses to her daughters.

“How was it, Your Grace?” Parna asked, untying Satine’s dress.

“Marvelous,” tears sprung to the Duchess’s eyes, “my children are treasures.”

[bumblebee-moreno]

LGBT EDUCATION EVENT

I posted a bit ago to see who might be interested in an event for anyone to ask me any question they want about my LGBT identities, or the LGBT community in general, and there seemed to be quite a bit of interest, so here we are!

Event goes from midnight to midnight March 30 (starts in 5 minutes, lasts for the full 24 hours).

For those of you who don’t know me (you can skip this part if you already know who I am):

My name is Bumblebee, but you can call me Bee. I am white and use he/they pronouns. I am FTM nonbinary, queer, demisexual, and polyamorous. I work part-time at a non-profit targeted towards trans youth. At the non-profit, I moderate our 24/7 chat (I’m not the only moderator, don’t worry, I do sleep), am a facilitator for our middle school support group (When one of our high school facilitators cannot make it, I also step into that group occasionally). I also help create and present workshops (We are currently in the process of creating a presentation for Microsoft). My other job is as a receptionist for a Veterinary Clinic. (For safety reasons, I will not be sharing which nonprofit I work at, or which veterinary clinic I work at. If, for some reason you find out where I work, please keep this information to yourself). I was diagnosed with ADHD in February, and was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder two years ago. I have lived in the USA my whole life, and was raised in a non-religious household. My extended family is mostly Christian, with a few relatives who are Norse Pagan (we are originally from Norway). I am agnostic.

The purpose of this event:

Education. That’s literally it. I’ve noticed a lot of misconceptions about the LGBT community, and want to combat that with a good ol’ fashioned Q&A.

Here are a few rules before we start:

(I do have a TL/DR at the bottom, but if you have the time, I encourage you to read the full thing)

- This is a safe space.

This means a few things: You can ask any question you like and I will not be offended. Nothing is to be taken personally, it will always be assumed that you are trying to learn, unless you’ve clearly proven otherwise. If you’re hurt by something someone (including myself) has said, you’re free and encouraged to say something about it. All identities are welcome. Everything will be tagged with appropriate content warnings (If I don't tag something you need tagged, let me know and I will happily tag it!)

- Who can participate:

Anyone wanting to learn about anything LGBT, including but not limited to:

Cisgender/heterosexual people who want to become better allies, Writers who want to learn how to be more inclusive, People questioning their gender/sexuality, literally anyone prepared to be respectful to anyone else participating

(I do want to note: this event is open to NSFW conversations. If you are uncomfortable with this, please filter the tag “adult conversations”.)

- Any question is okay to ask.

This is a space for everyone to learn, regardless of their prior knowledge. I will never get offended by a question. I will not be offended by the phrasing of a question. If I am not comfortable answering something, I will explain why, but I will not be annoyed. Part of learning is making mistakes, and I want to be courteous to that.

I am super open, so I will answer almost every question, regardless of how personal it is, with a few exceptions (see the “my boundaries” point.

Yes, this means you can ask questions that you’ve been previously told never to ask. I want to clarify though: I will make it clear when a question is inappropriate to ask in normal circumstances. Since I am telling you beforehand that it’s okay to ask personal or private questions, it is acceptable to do so in this context. However, I will always add a note explaining why you shouldn’t ask people this in other circumstances so that it’s still clear which questions I am making exceptions for.

- My boundaries

I’m not going to share identifying information. That includes: My legal name, where I live, where I work, photos of myself, etc.

I’m not going to share my deadname either, though I am willing to have conversations about deadnames themselves.

I’m not going to share what my plans for bottom surgery are. I am fine to talk about bottom surgery itself, I am fine to share where I’m at right now, and have next to no boundaries about top surgery. But I’m not going to share what my plans for whether or not I’m getting bottom surgery are.

I’ve worked as a receptionist and trans advocate for long enough that I take nothing personally. Because of this, I ask that if you need to get upset or aggressive about something related to this event, please come to me directly instead of attacking a participant. I’d rather you send me hate than sending it to someone who is trying to use this safe space as a learning opportunity. This includes if you’re frustrated with a participant. I’m happy to facilitate a healthy conversation about a disagreement, but I will not tolerate anyone attacking others.

- Hate will be blocked.

When you’re talking directly to me, I’m going to assume you’re well-intentioned. HOWEVER. If you’re directly attacking others who are involved in the conversation, you will be blocked. If you have a problem, please come to me and I will work to resolve it. Sending hate to people other than myself is in violation of the safe space.

- My intention is never to speak over anyone

I don’t know everything about every identity. As a white person, I experience white privilege. As someone who passes as male about 80% of the time, I experience male privilege. I am able-bodied. I try my very best to educate myself, but I am still learning (and always will be).

If I speak on an identity that is not my own, I will always add a note to clarify this. I will only be speaking from the stories shared with me by people who have that identity, and from the additional research I have done.

MY WORDS ARE NEVER THE ONLY TRUTH. I cannot say this enough. Don’t take my words over those of someone who uses a specific label. Even if I also use that label. Everyone experiences the world differently. My words are a STARTING POINT. Please be aware that other opinions and experiences exist. I will try my best to have resources paired with every conversation so you can further your learning, but please be aware that I cannot teach you everything.

If I don’t know the answer, I will do research as well as provide you with sources.

- No question will go unanswered

Yes, this includes questions that come across as “disrespectful”. I have said this already, but I will always assume good intentions unless it’s proven that you’re coming from a place of malice. If a question is phrased in a way that comes across as harmful in any way, I will still answer it AND explain why you should ask it differently in the future or not ask it at all going forward.

If I don’t respond within 2 hours, please message me again: I either didn’t receive it or I am still writing my response. I don’t want to miss anyone just because you think I’m ignoring you, I promise I’m not.

The ONLY time I won’t answer a question is if you’ve made it clear that you’re only here to attack the people using this safe space (I will have already asked you to leave).

- If something upsets you, don’t ignore it.

If you’re hurt by something I, or someone else said, please let me know. My intentions are never to hurt or upset anyone.

You can disagree with people, including me, as long as you’re polite about it.

If you need me to talk to someone for you, I’m happy to do so. If you want a private conversation with me, my DMs are open. If you want to stay anonymous but don’t want your questions posted, use this 🌙 emoji (or just say so), and I’ll make a post trying my best to answer your question without sharing the contents of the ask itself.

I don’t expect you to educate me as to why you’re upset by something: that’s not your responsibility, I can educate myself. I do appreciate anyone willing to talk about differing views or why something upset them, but that is not the purpose of the event and you are under no obligation to educate anyone else. I will do my research the moment someone says something bothered them.

- Please don’t weaponise my words.

Please don’t use anything said here as a way to attack people. This event is to educate people. I hope there’s nothing said here that can be manipulated to hurt people, but I didn’t want to leave this unsaid; the point of this isn’t to attack people who are uneducated, it’s to help educate them.

- Most importantly: Please come into this with a desire to learn

This event won’t be helpful if you’re determined to not learn anything. The purpose of this is to ask questions and learn something. I can’t decide for you that you want to learn. I can’t force you to learn. You have to be willing, or this may seem very pointless to you. I’m not trying to change opinions or beliefs, I’m just trying to spread a little education. If you’re unable to take my words and really think about them, this may not be the space for you, but that’s up to you to decide.

Any topic is okay!

This includes (but isn’t limited to):

- Writing LGBT characters (such as how to incorporate same-sex representation without fetishizing gay people, writing for gender-neutral or non-female readers, making content trans-friendly, etc.)

- What to do when someone you care about comes out

- Coming out

- Transition-related questions (HRT, surgery, binding/tucking, deadnames, etc.)

- Defining terms or labels you’re unfamiliar with

- Working out your feelings about something (such as something you saw in media and need to talk to someone about)

- Various laws (questions about laws may take up to 3 hours to answer, as I would have to research your particular area, depending on the question)

- Literally any other question you can think of that has to do with the LGBT community in any way, these are just some ideas off the top of my head to get y’all started.

TL;DR: This space is open to anyone, any topic, any question just please be open-minded and respectful!

(Just like my first post, I’m including tags for the Pedro fandom because I’ve seen a lot of issues within that community, but this is open to anyone that wants to participate, regardless of what interests you have.)

@phoenixhalliwell

[evesbeve]

Hey there, you said your ask box was open for Justin Min's whole thing? I guess I just slept through the whole thing, honestly - could you just go over a gist of everything that happened? I get that it seems like a PR team didn't know how to use twitter (which, mood) and f-ed things up for him, but what were they "cleaning up" in the first place, who's Anna what did they do that warranted such a bizarre thread from the PR team, etc...? 😳

Hey! Okay so this is going to be a lot, so buckle up.

Right off the bat, I just want to say that Justin isn’t cancelled. The situation has been mostly resolved right now (more on that later).

So around a week ago, Justin Min started deleting his replies to fans. Depending on whether you’re on Twitter or not, you might know that Justin is one of the most interactive people of the cast. He knows a lot of fans by name, he has inside jokes with us, and he just interacts a lot with his fanbase. So you can imagine why him suddenly starting to delete his replies was a bit upsetting. There was nothing we could do about it though.

And suddenly, two days ago, Justin deactivated his account out of nowhere, which caused all kinds of drama to go down.

People started pointing the finger at specific accounts saying it was their fault that Justin deactivated (don’t even get me started on that logic; why a grown-ass adult deactivate because of a few teenagers is above me, it literally made no sense), even sending death threats. Others suspected that he got suspended because Twitter’s algorithm saw all these tweets get deleted and was like “welp, bot time.” Long story short, lots of misinformation was going around.

And then out of the blue, Justin’s account was reactivated, and he made a thread directed at Anna.

Now, who is Anna? Anna is a stan on twitter, whose @ I won’t be sharing for privacy, but here’s how they’re relevant in this:

Remember when I mentioned the inside jokes? Well, one of them was between a fan called Matt and Justin. Matt kept commenting on Justin’s tweets asking him to say trans rights. On the one year anniversary of Matt asking Justin to say trans rights, Justin finally said it. Then, Matt made a poll asking other stans what he should have Justin say next, and lesbian rights won.

Around a month ago, Matt replied to one of Justin’s tweets, and Justin responded with something along the lines of “haha, i know this is just an attempt to get me to say lesbian rights,” referencing the inside joke. People started commenting that the way he phrased it was a bit :/ so then he replied to his own tweet with something like “well, i’ll delete this before i get cancelled,” and that’s when things spiraled.

[id: Justin Min’s tweet #1: i see that you are trying to butter me up to say lesbian rights, nice try, matt. nice try.

Justin Min’s tweet #2: oh, here we go. this is an inside joke between myself and matt, if you’ve been a part o fthis fandom for more than a few weeks. but alas, i will have to delete this now before i’m cancelled by the end of the day. keep loving, everyone.]

Lesbians get spoken over and looked down upon not only by straight people, but also the LGBT community. So when Justin tweeted that, lesbians were like “this sounds as if you care more about your own self image rather than our community.” Then, non-lesbians got involved and started either a) calling Justin lesbophobic (which lesbians never did) or b) blindly defending Justin and saying he did nothing wrong.

(Side note: I am not a lesbian, and I’m not trying to speak over lesbians in this situation. But I did talk about this to some of my friends who are lesbians, and they told me that what Justin did wasn’t as big of a deal as Twitter made it out to be. These are their words, not mine. All I know is that it was definitely not bad-intentioned, just a huge misunderstanding.)

Anyway, Anna made a thread explaining to Justin why him defending himself came out as harmful towards the lesbian community, and then Justin apologised and that was it.

Which brings us back to yesterday (26/9/2020).

Everyone is freaking out, posting misinformation, panicking. I don’t exactly,,, know how, but the #justinminisoverparty hashtag started being used for actual hate towards Justin for deactivating, and some people (including Anna, though I think their tweet was in the context of a joke? please take this with a grain of salt though. update: it was in the context of a joke) mentioned that Justin is a lesbophobe.

A few hours later, Justin reactivated his account, tagged Anna, and said this (though it was actually his PR team, more on that later):

[id: Justin’s Tweet: @ [redacted] quickly jumping back on here from my twt break because i’m receiving messages that you’re continuing to spread misinformation, so i want to clarify.]

[id: Justin’s Tweets: 1. all of my interactions with you were deleted because of the need to set clear boundaries due to the fact that your incessant messages and replies from multiple accounts over the last several months were veering into stalking/harassment.

2. for someone who appears to pride themselves on reminding their friends/followers on a daily basis to be careful of the language they use on this app, you seem to be fine with flippantly labeling someone as homophobic/lesbophobic as if they’re cute little adjectives to give to someone, not realizing that such labels have real-life consequences.]

[id: Justin’s Tweets: 3. also noting here than in your original thread, you stated that you neither considered me nor my words to actually be lesbophobic, so a bit confused as to why your story has suddenly changed.

4. i realize you’re young, so i’m genuinely hoping you use this opportunity to learn and grow andbe a little more mindful the next time you decide to tweet.]

The next twenty minutes were pure chaos. Justin deactivated again, everyone started freaking out because that was very out of character for him. People were cancelling him because this could have easily been resolved in DMs, or tweeted without the mention of Anna (a minor) from a mainstream Twitter account.

And then, Justin Min DMed another fan on Instagram (her name is Em) about the situation.

Who is Em? For starters, I’d like to say that I personally know Em and that she’s one of my best friends. I’ve known her for more than a year now, and I can personally vouch for her. Everything that she posted is 100% true (if you want the thread where she posts proof of the DMs, please send me a different ask because I’m scared tumblr will not post this in the tag if I include it here).

The reason Justin DMed her out of all people is because he also kinda knows her? As I mentioned, Justin interacts with us on Twitter a lot, and Em is the one person he’s responded to the most, so he knows who she is. (He’s tagged her more times than other cast members, at least before all his tweets were deleted by his PR team.)

Anyway, this is what Em tweeted:

[id: Em’s tweets: please read this !!!

justin dmed me on instagram and basically the gist of it is that he hired a pr team and they tweeted the thread at anna without knowing everyone could see it. all of the tweets being deleted/ him deactivating was also them.]

Below is the image Em attached to the tweet:

[id: Justin’s DM to Em: hey. this is justin. i’m just hearing about what’s happening on twitter right now. for context, i was asked to work with a team of people to “clean up” my twitter in the past few weeks. they’ve taken the liberty of deleting a bunch of my responses and posts in order to safeguard me (whatever that means) as well as deactivating my account to comb through other things.i believe they accidentally sent anna a message and mistakenly believed the function for her to comment only would mean that she would be the only one to see it as well. needless to say, i’m no longer working with this team and want to personally apologize to her. do you know any way i can get into contact with her?]

And then, in a follow-up tweet:

[id: Em’s text at Justin: sorry for dming you again. is there any other way i can help? i just feel really bad about this whole thing and i know how quickly this stuff can spread if it’s not taken care of

Justin’s text: i mean, i guess you can share the information i’ve given you? it’ll take a bit of time for me to take back ownership on everything as i sever ties with that team, so maybe the sooner the better people know.

Em’s text: okay ! is it okay if i tweet a screenshot

Justin’s text: sure.]

Then Justin’s account got reactivated an hour ago (almost 24hs after Em’s tweets), and he tweeted this:

[id: Justin’s tweet: hi. it’s me. thank you for all your messages. this has been an incredibly tough week for me on multiple fronts. some things you might already be aware of; many other things you don’t know about.asking for a bit of privacy as i take sometime to unplug. hoping to be back soon.]

And that’s all, I think? There’s lots we don’t know about what happened yet, so please please please try not to spread misinformation. This is a stressful situation for us on Twitter, and especially for Justin, and misinformation going around is the last thing we need right now.

tl;dr: Justin Min hired a PR Team that started deleting all of his tweets and deactivated his account. Misinformation started spreading, people started cancelling Justin for no reason. The PR Team decided to respond to Anna, made the response public, deactivated again. Justin DMed Em and explained the situation, and an hour ago, he reactivated and said he’s taking a small break to sort things out.

If anyone has any other questions/clarifications, my askbox is open! Hope this shed some light on the situation <3

UPDATE 28/9/2020: Justin has DMed and apologised to Anna for the situation, and Anna has accepted the apology. Anna posted all of it on their account, but again, if you want a link, send me an ask!

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

If You Just Realize

Part Four: Full Bloom

Summary: Concerned about losing Milena or anyone else, Sebastian makes a desperate request of his friend.  Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Word Count: 1905 Series Warnings: Death, angst, sadness. Lots of creative licensing, I’m sure. Chapter Warnings: Bit of a cliffhanger.  Square Filled: This entire series will fill my realized feelings square for @marvelfluffbingo​. A/N: I’ve much enjoyed writing this series, and I hope all of you enjoy reading it! The tag list is open; requests to be added can be done so here. There are bits and pieces of Romanian throughout the series, mostly from Google Translate and the few things I’ve picked up as I learn the language. 

This part wasn’t scheduled till tomorrow buttttt I have no chill so ... Happy Reading! 

Series Masterlist

“Oprește cu agitația.”

Sebastian did his best to heed Y/N’s warning, but he couldn’t stop fidgeting. He was too nervous about what was going to happen and what he would be told when he walked into the lawyer’s office. Fortunately, he only had to wait a few more minutes before Philip Hobb, his longtime lawyer, stuck his head out of his office and beckoned Sebastian in. 

“Please, have a seat,” he said, motioning to the chairs in front of the desk. “I’m sorry for the wait, telephone call went long. I’m so sorry to hear about Irina, Seb. How’s the family holding up?”

Sebastian looked at Y/N, then back to Philip. “We’re doing the best we can. Philip, this is my very good friend, Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, Philip Hobb.”

The two of them shook hands, and then Philip got down to business. “I’ve already been in touch with the Hills’ lawyer. They are seeking joint custody, as you expected. But that’s not what Irina wanted.”

Sebastian shook his head. “No. Unfortunately, there was never anything on paper, but she had a conversation with my mother about what to do with Milena if anything ever happened to her. Milena’s father signed his rights away when she was born, but his parents chose to stay involved in her life. Irina was always open to that, and I, of course, don’t want to keep them from their granddaughter.”

Philip sat back in his chair, folding his hands over his abdomen. “I want to be sure, before we go through all of this, that you’re not trying to hold on to your sister by holding on to Milena. You can’t bring Irina back, and there’s a potential here for a little girl to go through a lot of hard things for you to only want to keep whatever piece of Irina you can grasp onto.”

Y/N reached out and squeezed Sebastian’s hand. Philip was speaking as a friend — one who was capable of speaking truths no one else could. She saw Sebastian’s eyes glaze over but he didn’t hold long to her hand. 

“I just want to do what Irina would have wanted me to do.”

Phillip went back to the notes on his desk. “Okay then. Let’s lock down some particulars. I’ll get it written up and sent to their lawyer, we’ll go from there. Who has Milena right now?”

“After the funeral, we decided to let Milena decide where she wanted to go. She opted to stay with my parents.”

Y/N added, “But I think it’s because she knew Sebastian was going to be there. Maybe I’m biased, though.”

“That’s good to know,” Philip smiled. “I don’t mean to get personal, but are you two …?”

They both chuckled, used to the question by now. Sebastian clarified that they were only friends but also that the speculation was familiar. 

“Guess we’ll cross that off as a tactic for our case then,” Philip teased. 

Y/N exchanged a glance with Sebastian. “I’m sorry, what do you mean by that?”

“Oh, nothing serious, of course — really, it was a joke. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Sometimes, like in the case of a single guy who wants to take custody of a little girl, having a woman around regularly helps. It’s nothing really, we’ve got plenty to help us out here.”

Philip moved the conversation on then, but the thought lingered in both Y/N’s and Sebastian’s mind well past the end of the meeting. 

After the meeting, Y/N went back to the Waldorf. She was checking out the next day anyway, since her stay had become indefinite, and Sebastian had convinced her to stay in his guest bedroom for the time being. He went back to his parents’ house to retrieve their things. He would update Georgeta and Anthony on the situation and check in on Milena. 

And Y/N would have time to think about some things. 

Yes, she had wanted more than ever to pull Sebastian as close as she could over the last few days — since the moment he had called and told her that Irina was gone. She had missed him, so much, in the months since they had last seen each other. She appreciated how comfortable they were with each other, that they could show affection without the gestures being perceived the wrong way. 

Except … 

Philip Hobb’s question about whether they were together or not, and the teasing that followed, had put wheels into motion in her mind. Sebastian was an attractive man; she found him to be more handsome than most. He was kind, loyal, caring, and he made her laugh. She could be herself around him. 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Y/N chided herself as she packed the last few of her belongings into her rolling carry-on. “Your emotions are running high because you want to help him. Sebastian is a good friend, we’re very close. That’s it, case closed.”

By the time she reached Sebastian’s apartment, she had almost convinced herself of that. Scolding herself for reading more into their relationship than what was obviously there, she let herself in with the copy of the key Sebastian had given her when they returned from their coffee date that morning, unpacked a few things, and laid down to take a nap. Once she was rested, she would have more energy to convince herself that she was being overly-emotional and needed to get it together. 

The meeting with the lawyer took a lot out of Sebastian, but there was no avoiding his parents’ questions when he returned. He explained that Philip was going to do his best to get him at least residential and primary custody of Milena, if not full custody with visitations for the Hills. 

“It’s not going to be pretty, I would imagine,” Sebastian sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Is the little one napping? I might crash out with her for a while before I meet up with Y/N again later.”

Anthony shook his head. “She’s with the Hills. Since she’s been here a couple of days, they asked to see her.”

That was well and fair, but Sebastian admitted to himself that he was afraid, for some reason, that the Hills would never give her back. In the same way he would never see Irina again, what if he never saw Milena again?

Get out of your head, he scolded himself. Hadn’t Philip specifically warned him that he couldn’t fight for custody of Milena only to hang on to Irina? No, it wasn’t that. No one, not even Milena, would ever replace the bond he had with his little sister. That didn’t mean, though, that he wanted to lose anyone else. 

As he gathered his things and made sure all of Y/N’s were packed into her bag, he pushed out all thoughts of losing Milena. That made room for thoughts about his friend, though, and the things Philip had said during the meeting. 

Y/N had been his first phone call after he got off the phone with his mother that day. He had felt like he was drowning — he was still only treading the surface, occasionally coming up for air — and she was the thing that kept him fighting. He knew that he would push through for his mother and for his niece, but Y/N was the push he needed to put in more effort than simply going through the motions. She was the person he could lean on when it felt like everyone else was leaning on him; she was home when he felt like he had nowhere else to run. 

“Keeping thinking like that, you’re going to ruin the best friendship you’ve got,” he mumbled to himself as he shouldered both of their bags. 

But the idea that had seeded in his mind and sprouted up once before grew more. Shaking his head, Sebastian headed to bid his parents see-you-later. He would nap at home. 

Remember when we first met And everything was still a bet In love’s game You would call; I’d call you back And then I’d leave A message On your answering Machine

Sebastian smiled as he entered his apartment. He could hear music coming from the kitchen, could smell whatever Y/N was cooking. She was singing along to the words, an older song that she had overplayed over the years. He didn’t mind. 

After dropping the bags in their respective rooms, he went to the kitchen, and greeted her. She turned to smile at him before going back to the rice she was cooking on the stove. 

“Hey, I wondered when you were gonna be home! I thought maybe you were avoiding me.”

Sebastian shook his head and leaned on the counter near where she was standing. “Not at all. Had to catch my parents up with everything, took the long way home to do some thinking. Milena is back with the Hills. They asked to see her.”

Y/N turned down the heat on the rice and put a lid on the pan. She took one good look at Sebastian and threw her arms around his neck. She held on tight, and Sebastian didn’t hesitate to hold her back even tighter. 

“Milena’s going to come back. You said yourself that if you have custody of her, you’ll let the Hills see her. You’re not going to lose her, they’re not going to take her. That doesn’t do them any good.” She kissed his cheek. “Everything is going to be okay, Seb. Maybe it’s not going to be easy. But it’s going to be okay.”

She stepped away to tend to the rice, but Sebastian held her tighter. She resumed her embrace, nuzzling against his neck and not pulling away until he was ready. 

When supper was ready, they ate together, mostly in silence. Y/N didn’t want to push any issues that were already sensitive for Sebastian, and he had far too much on his mind to talk about much of anything. They cleaned up together, watched a little television, then Y/N excused herself to go to bed. 

“Don’t stay up too late, all right?” she warned him, kissing his cheek. “You’ve had a crazy few days. If you don’t get some sleep, you’re not going to be able to keep up with Milena when you get her.”

Sebastian nodded. “I’ll go to bed soon, I promise.”

But it was hours past midnight and he was still sitting on the floor in front of the couch, not even aware of what was playing on the television. He was staring at the picture that had been taken a minute or two after Irina had told him she was pregnant with Milena. He had been staring at that picture for … he didn’t even know how long it had been at this point. Maybe if he stared at it long enough, he’d find some answers to the thoughts racing around in his head. Another hour passed and found him still in the same place he had been for most of the evening. 

“Seb? You okay?” Y/N was standing a few feet away, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Sebastian opened his mouth several times before he looked again at the picture. He thought about Irina, he thought about Milena, he thought about Y/N. He could only think of one thing to say, so he let the words roll off his tongue. 

“Y/N, would — will you marry me?” 

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @hurricanerin​ @horsesandbandsforlife​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​ @captain-rogers-beard​ @shynara51​ @sea040561​ @pinknerdpanda​ @xtina2191​ @jackryanplz​ @beakami​ @heartsaved​ @fullprunerebelstatesman​ @blackwidowismyhomegirl​ @averyrogers83​ @jennmurawski13​

IYJR: @elsatxx​ @tanelle83​ @amanda-teaches​ @etherealwaifgoddess​ @kmuir1​ @ntlmundy​ @jayankles​ @rebekahdawkins​ @denise1605​ @rhadigen​ @peace-love-hobbitness​ @itsallyscorner​ @mizzzpink​ @auspiciousharriet​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​ @learisa​

[talpup]

Summary: Yami Sukehiro just wanted to join the Magic Knights and make his mentor proud.  He knew there would be trails.  He knew trouble would come his way.  Knew he would be faced with discrimination for being a foreigner and a peasant.  What he didn’t know.  Didn’t expect.  Was that literal Chaos would come his way.  That he and his mentor’s sister would be at the center of world ending trouble.  Or that he would fall in love with his mentor’s sister and face more than discrimination; but the jealousy of Nozel Silva who loved the same woman he did.

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, sexual behavior, and other possible triggers. For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

Doing a double update this week for two reasons. One of which is because I’m really excited to share chapter 101. A LOT will be going down next chapter.

Chapter 100

Yami rubbed his eyes, tired from the late night spent in Jax’s office. The secret meeting had felt like it would never end, everyone talking and theorizing about all they had learned.  Yami could’ve kissed Greywright when the Commander called an end to it saying it was getting them nowhere.  Exhausted from the long day and troubled sleep of the night before, Yami couldn’t have agreed more.  The meetings talk had devolved into a mess of words that had left his mind fogged and dizzy.

Having told Jax he would fill Bran in on the rest in the morning, Yami had taken the younger man out for a ride to do exactly that.  Jax hadn’t been happy.  The Captain was protective of his squad and didn’t like another member being brought in and endangered by all this.  Jax hadn’t been much happier about Yami going out for a ride either; but had relented now knowing the cause of Yami’s added aggression, and wanting to help in away way he could.

Back from their ride, Yami latched the gate behind Pilfer.  “Any questions?”

“Too many.”  Bran stepped back from No Name’s closed kennel.  After hearing the whole of it all, his mind was even more fried than it had been after last nights meeting.

“Any questions I can answer.”  Yami clarified.

Bran thought a moment, nothing and everything flipping through his mind at once.  He shook his head.  “None that I can formulate or think of now.”

Yami nodded, understanding.  If Bran hadn’t been overwhelmed from sitting in on last nights meeting, he certainly was now.  “If you do have any don’t go bugging Teris or Jax.”

“Does that mean I come to you?”  Bran asked, a little too eagerly.

Yami nearly said no; but he was the one who had brought Bran in on this. He was responsible for the kid now.  As if he hadn’t felt responsible enough for Bran before, what with being Vice Captain and the way Bran looked up to him.

Giving a nod, Yami grumbled.  “So long as you aren’t a nuisance.”

“I won’t be.”  Bran promised.

“I know it was said last night and I stared with it.  But you really can’t tell anyone.  Family.  Friends.  Sir Jorah.  Anyone.”

“I know.  I won’t.”

Thinking of how poorly he and Teris had masked their own knowledge about Ellara when faced with the Advisor a few weeks ago, Yami told.  “And no letting on that you know.  So stay well away from Olsen, Iban, and Ellara if you can’t act dumb.”

Before Yami could say that he should stay away from Iban and Ellara regardless, Bran told.

“I can act dumb!  I’m real good at it.”  Bran grimaced.

Yami chuckled and turned to the path that led up to the house.  “Come on.  Let’s get inside.  I’m hungry.”

100.2

Jon turned the corner to see a squad member leading Jax down the hall.

“On your way to see Captain Julius, Captain?”  Jon questioned.

Jax turned, his escort doing the same.

“I’ll take Captain Jax, Fragil.  I’m on my way there anyway.”

Fragil nodded and left the two men, going about her business.

Pulling up beside Jax, Jon utterly softly.  “You all must’ve learned something really important or disturbing last night.  I woke up early this morning to find Captain Julius in his study surround by books. Don’t think he ever went to bed.”

“I didn’t go to bed either.”  Jax yawned.  “And it was both important and disturbing.  How are things with Kess?”

“You say you learned something important and disturbing enough that you and Captain Julius didn’t go to sleep, yet are asking me about the Silver Eagles Captain?”

“No. I’m asking about your new betrothed who just so happens to be the Silver Eagles Captain.”  At Jon’s look, Jax shrugged.  “What? Someone elses troubles help take my mind off mine.”

“What makes you think the engagement is troubled?  And how did you hear of it?  We were only just betrothed yesterday afternoon.”  Jon’s eyes narrowed.  “Have you and my Captain been gossiping again?”

Jax smirked.  “News like this travels faster than Wild Fire in a windstorm.  So, are congratulations or sympathies an order?”

Jon gritted his teeth and opened his Captain's private study door.

“Stop!” Julius spun around, hand outstretched.

Jax stopped in mid-step.

Julius quickly created a time sphere for all inanimate objects in the room, freezing them in place.  “Alright.  It’s safe now.”

“Are you sure about that?  Julius, what…”  Jax slowly stepped inside, concerned eyes looking about the room.

Jon followed in the Black Bulls Captain's wake.  He quickly closed the door behind, not wanting any servants or squad members who might pass to see the manic mess.  And it was a mess.  Books were piled as high as a man was tall.  Countless tomes laid strewn open over each other, covering every surface from tables to chairs to the backs and arms of a sofa.  There were even a couple books precariously balanced on a pot, crushing some poor plant.  But it was the scrolls and loose leaf papers that really made the scene.  They were scattered everywhere. Apparently out of room Julius had begun laying pages out on the floor.  And when that wasn’t enough, he had taken to tacking things on the wall and pinning them to the curtains.

“Julius! What the--”  Jax tripped over the curled part of a scroll, Julius’ spell making it immovable.  The Black Bulls Captain cursed, taking several steps to steady himself.

“I had Marx transcribe what Bran overheard, and what the History of Chaos said about the portrait, along with what Teris read from Captain Shadow’s journal.”  Julius said, as if that explained the state of his private study.

Jon looked between the two Captain's.  “She was able to read it?”

Jax frowned.  He was going to tell his friend that it still didn’t explain all this, but Julius spoke first.

“I can’t believe you let Teris keep Captain Shadow’s journal.” Julius said, neither man acknowledging Jon’s question.

Jax shrugged a shoulder.  “Seemed reasonable since she’s the only one who can read the hidden message.”

Reasonable as it was, Julius wasn’t having it.  “But you know how she is. What if she--”

“Became obsessed and stayed awake all night, littering the floor with paper and pinning things to the walls?”  Jax cut in over his friend, looking pointedly around the room.

“I know about the journal you found.”  Julius said, reasoning his behavior.

Jax made a face, feeling both guilty and grateful he hadn’t been able to tell Yami about the journal two days ago when Yami had called him out on holding a secret.  “I’m going to tell them.”

“You can’t.  Teris will--”

“Do the same as you and make a mess of the general study at my base?” Jax questioned over Julius.  “Maybe.  But we promised those two no more secrets.  More than that, Teris and Yami have the History of Chaos.  After what we learned last night.  Given what you and Greywright came to suppose after I found that journal Iban told me about…  What if you and Greywright are right?”

Julius’ eyebrows pulled together.  He didn’t like Jax thinking he was right.  He didn’t want to be right.  It had been a crazy theory at the time.  It was still a crazy thought.  Just because what they had learned last night further pointed to such a possibility didn’t make the idea any less insane.  But given everything else; talk of Chaos and primordial forces, and crazy zealots who wanted to end everything to start a new beginning.  Was the notion that they were dealing with someone that old really that insane?

Sighing, Julius relented.  “Fine.  But at least wait a couple days.  Give them tomorrow off to relax and unwind.  They’ll need it.”

100.3

Ready for a nap after a hearty lunch, Yami entered Teris’ makeshift office.  He shook his head, seeing her bent over Captain Shadow’s journal exactly as he figured she would be.  “You gonna obsess over that thing all day?”

“I’m rereading, not obsessing.”  Teris muttered, without lifting her head.

“What obsessive freaks like you and Julius call rereading.  Normal folk call obsessing.”  Yami teased.

“You’re far from normal, Sukehiro.”

Yami smirked, hearing the smile in her voice.  He pushed aside the journal Jax should've taken away from her last night and set a plate of food in front of her.

“Hey!” Teris complained, reaching for the diary.  Seeing the food, her brows furrowed.  “What’s this?”

Yami leaned back against the table.  “What’s it look like?”

“Lunch.” Teris’ eyes widened.  “It’s lunch time?”

“Past.” Yami crossed his arms and stared down at her.  “See what I mean about obsessing?”

Teris’ stomach grumbled.  She blushed.

Chuckling, Yami encouraged.  “Dig in.”

“Thanks.”

Yami kissed her head, hand smoothing her hair.  “I’m gonna take a nap. If you’re not at the table for supper, I’m coming in here and burning that thing.”

“You wouldn’t.”  Teris said with certainty.

Yami righted, hand falling to his side.  “Try me.”

Feeling less certain, Teris turned in her seat to look at him.  Finding his expression void of taunting or humor, she complained.  “You’re terrible.”

A small grin cracked Yami’s somewhat stern expression.  “Yet you choose to be with me.  What’s that say about you?”

“That I’m either a fool or glutton for punishment.”  Teris half grumbled, half played.

“Well I know you’re no fool.  As for punishment...”  Yami’s eyes raked over her, crooked smile growing.  “The only punishment I’d ever give would be pleasurable for the both of us.”

100.3.2

Yami closed the door to Teris’ makeshift office feeling a light-hearted ease despite all they’d learned last night.  After teasing Teris like that and seeing her beautiful blush, how could he not?  Teris was capable of making all his troubles disappear with a single smile. She--

Yami’s footsteps stopped as he passed the narrow door of the servants stairs. “I told you to stay away from Teris. What are you doing sulking around her?”

“I’m not here for Teris.  Why do you think I let you sense my presence?” Iban stepped out of the dark opening that led down to his lab.

Yami turned, watching the Blood Mage appear out of the enclosed stairwell.

Iban looked Yami over and tisked.  “You really are having a time of it aren’t you?”

“A time of what?”  Yami asked.  Even without Bran having overheard the conversation between Iban and Ellara, it was always better to play dumb and hope Iban would give further information for free.

Iban stalked closer.  “You don’t have to pretend with me, Vice Captain.  I can help.”

Yami would’ve rested his hand on the hilt of his katana; but he rarely carried the weapon around the house.  Instead he placed a hand on his left hip.  “I already told you never to mention that dark magic ritual of yours to me again.”

“I am not speaking of the communicative dreams with the page of Chaos. I am speaking about the trouble you are currently having with the Darkness building within you. ”  Iban said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Creepy.”

“So that dark, consuming pull I feel is not beginning to effect your temper?”  Iban questioned.  “At first I thought it was simply because you have such a short temper as it is.  But I was wrong.  The force within you is greater.”

“Greater?”

“Greater than the Light that is within--”

Yami snarled, daring Iban to say Teris’ name.

Iban smiled and went on.  “I think the Darkness within you is far greater than Alowishus Spade could have ever imagined.”

“But you can help.”  Yami supplied with a huff.

Iban gave a single nod.

Yami’s lip twitched in another sneer.  “You wanna help?  Tell me about this Darkness that’s supposedly building inside me.  Way is it so much stronger?  What do the Agents of Chaos want with it?  What do they have planned for the Winter Solstice?”

“Sorry, Vice Captain.  Such answers are far too costly.”

If it weren’t for what Bran had overheard, Yami would've thought Iban was referring to the price it would’ve cost him.  But now he knew otherwise.  Alowishus Spade had forced Iban into some sort of vow of silence; and the the cost the Blood Mage was referring to was the cost to lives of Iban’s family.

“There’s people working on it.  I don’t need your help.”  Yami gruffed.

“Who? Captain Jax and Commander Greywright?”  Iban’s eyes glimmered in the dim hall light.  “Our Captain and Knights Commander are highly capable men.  But this is so far from their field of expertise.  No doubt that is why the Captain has not told you of the assistance I gave him several weeks back.  Because Captain Jax has deferred to Captain Julius.  And the Azure Deers Captain is overly protective of his little sister, and protege.”

Yami’s eyes narrowed wondering what he was talking about.

“No doubt you mean Captain Julius and Senior Investigations Mage Marx are working on it.”  Iban went on.  “Such great scholarly minds might be able to find something that may be of assistance.  But will they find it in time?  And will it help enough?  I can feel the force seeping from your seams.  It is like the pressure of an oncoming storm.  Ready to burst and wash us away at any moment.” He tilted his head, staring Yami in the eye.  “I wonder which you will do first.  Kill everything in sight, including your friends.  Or head straight to Teris to--”  His words cut off in a gurgle.

Hand around Iban’s throat, Yami growled.  “Say her name again and I’ll end you.”

“I—be—lieve—oo.” Iban choked.

It was a fight for Yami to force his hand to release the Blood Mage.  He stepped back, corded muscles trembling with bridled energy.  Never had he moved so fast without mana skin.  He could have killed Iban. He had wanted to kill him.  The only thing that had stopped him was a small lingering voice of reason.  And that voice was quickly fading. Iban was right.  He would soon lose control to the force inside him. He had to get a handle on this or else…

Yami looked down the hallway toward Teris’ makeshift office.  He could sense her mana as bright as any ships warning beacon.  Never before had he worried at how her mana called to him, but he started to now.

Regaining his breath, Iban followed Yami’s gaze.  “She may be able to stop you.  Call you back as she did once before.  But do you really want to put her through that?  To take the chance that she will be unable to?  That you will devour her and destroy everything in sight?”

“I don’t want your help.”  Yami rumbled.

Iban heard the conflict in his voice.  “This one will not cost you, Vice Captain.  After all it is a form of self preservation.”

Tempted as Yami was, there was one thing stopping him.  “No doubt it entails black magic.”

“Yes.” Iban admitted.  “It is unavoidable.  After all it is black magic that is causing this.  Or have you deluded yourself into believing that things Alowishus Spade is doing, including the rituals he put her through and has in store for you, is nothing but benign sanctioned magic.”

Yami glared and told again.  “I don’t want or need your help.”

“I admire a man who doesn’t want to dabble in black magic.”

Yami looked skeptically at Iban.

“What? I do.”  Iban exhaled, slowly.  “That said.  In this instance. You either get your hands dirty with black magic.  Or you will see them soaked with blood.”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“What? Seeing you tainted by using black magic?  Or seeing you stained in the blood of your friends?”

Yami ground his teeth, wishing Iban would stop calling such images to mind.  “This force inside me is connected or part of my magic and mana, right?  Why can’t I just use so much mana a day and stop it from overflowing?”

“That might work for a time.”  Iban said.

Yami growled.  Julius had given the same answer when Yami suggested it during last nights meeting.

“There is a mana source that could be of help.  But I am fairly certain you would be even less likely to accept his assistance than you would mine.”

“Why?” Yami asked.

“Why Spade’s mana?  He is Death.  The father of Darkness.”

Yami almost ask how Alowishus Spade’s mana could be of help but it didn’t matter.  Instead, he asked.  “Why me?  Teris didn’t have this problem.”

“Your counterpart is not a third seventh born son.  Nor does she wield three types of magic from three different worlds.  She is from this land.  In tune to this lands magic.  Her ties are deep.  The roots of House Nova’s bloodline goes back further than the Clover Kingdom itself.  The family one of the oldest this land has.”

Frowning, Yami shook his head.  “I wield no magic from other worlds.”

“Do you not?”  Iban questioned.

“My homeland has no magic.”

Iban sighed, annoyed at Yami’s small mindedness.  “I am not here to convince you of your unique power, but to offer you a way to deal with the force growing inside you.”

“I said no.”  Yami growled, wanting to pummel Iban till the answer got through his thick head.

“Very well.  You know where to find me when you change your mind.”

Yami watched Iban turn back toward the servants stairwell, presumably to return his labs.  A nagging worry made him call out in question. “What happens if we manage to stay out of the Agents of Chaos’ grasp and their sick ritual doesn’t go down?  Do I stay like this? Does the force inside me continue to build until it takes over completely?  Or will it just go back to normal?”

Iban looked over his shoulder wearing a crooked smirk.  “It is both cute and sad that you think you have a chance of evading them.  The man is Death.  One would think that you would have grasped at least that by now.  You cannot avoid Death, Yami Sukehiro.  In the end, Death will always have its way.”

100.4

Olsen’s smile grew at the sound of rowdy banter coming from the dining hall. He heard Venice ask about tomorrows plans and something made him stop short.  As a gentleman, Olsen made a point never to eavesdrop. Especially when a lady was talking.  It didn’t matter that Venice's question might not be addressed to anyone in particular.  Or that the rest of the squad was likely at the table making the conversation far from private.  It was still unchivalrous.

Yet Olsen had no control over himself as he inched quietly closer, and listened in, eyes unfocused.

100.4.2

“I’m not sure.”  Teris answered Venice's question.

“You should take the day off.”  Jax encouraged from his seat.

Teris turned to the Captain.  “Really?”

“Yeah. You both should.”  Jax said, looking to Yami who sat to his left. He smiled, pleased Venice had given him a way to go about Julius’ ask without raising too much suspicion.  The Azure Deers Captain had been right, of course.  Whether he was going to tell Yami and Teris about the journal the day after tomorrow or not; his Vice Captain's needed a days break.

Yami’s eyes narrowed.  Jax had managed to get the entire squad, save for Iban, two days off little less than a month ago for Vanessa’s birthday party.  Encouraging them to take a day off so soon after that seemed suspect.

“What are you playing at?”  Yami asked.

“Nothing!” Jax assured, his tone and expression affirming the answer for the lie it was.

Seated to Yami’s left, Tobin nudged him with an elbow.  “Don’t go questioning an offer of a day off.”

Yami’s hand curled into a fist.  He didn’t want to hit his friend; but these days there was a constant underlying urge to hit something. And, playful or not, Tobin’s nudge nearly had him doing so.

He noticed the way Iban watched him, gold eyes shining.  Yami’s hand twitched wanting to wipe the smug, knowing smirk off the Blood Mage’s face.  Swallowing, Yami forced his hand open.   It didn’t matter if expending a sizable amount of mana wouldn’t work long term.  He just needed something to help right now.

“Jack’s been bugging me about going over to the Green Mantis base for a day of sparring.”  Yami eyed Tobin.  “You game?”

“For squashing that gangly bug?  Do you even have to ask?”  Tobin grinned.

“That means Teris and I can have a girls day.”  Venice enthused.

“It’s been far too long since we’ve had one of those.”  Teris said, excited by the thought.

Looking at Venice over the rim of his cup, Jax said.  “I find it amusing you and Tobin think you’re getting tomorrow off.”

Abril laughed at Venice's expression.

“Abril will cover for me.”  Venice volunteered the other girl.

Abril laughed all the louder.

Jax shook his head.  “She can’t.  I let her and Bran have tomorrow off a week ago.”

Venice's head snapped to Abril.  “What are you two doing?”

“Going to Raque to see Ricte.”  Abril answered.

Bran glanced nervously at Gendry.  While Gendry frowned at Abril.

“What happened to Ricte worked and couldn’t have any ol’ day off?” Teris asked, protective of Abril.

“Oh! I wanna go to Raque!  I haven’t been in so long.”  Venice whined.

Thinking Teris wouldn’t have much of a day off without her friend.  Never mind that he didn’t want her going out alone.  Jax sighed and told Venice.  “Fine.  You and Tobin can have the day off.”

“I don’t care about Tobin.  I just want to go to Raque with Teris.” Venice said.

“Hey.” Tobin complained.

Venice looked at Teris.  “You good with spending the day at Raque?”

“A day at the beach sounds grand.”  Teris smiled.

“Almost as grand as Gendry and I kicking Jack and Tobin’s ass’s.”  Yami said, in attempt at cheering Gendry.

“Hey!” Tobin complained again.

Rolling his eyes, Jax submitted to Yami’s sly addition of Gendry getting a day off.  “So long as Iban and Olsen stick around in case a mission order comes in and actual work needs to be done.”

100.4.3

Eyes still unfocused, Olsen quietly exited the house.  He created a cloud of water vapor and took to the air, having a sudden explicable and overwhelming need to see Ellara.

Comments are VERY MUCH appreciated and really make my day.  Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently commented or re-blogged. It really means a lot.

I’ve worried for a while that readers would have a hard time keeping everything with the Chaos plot straight given the long, slow draw of that plot and it seems a that worry has come to life.  Below is a list of Alowishus’ past lives.  If any of you would be interested in a list of chapter and scenes where the Chaos plot is prevalent please let me know, all it would take is a slight amendment to my personal fic notes.

Fin Spade – 1st life, son of Erin (who was Yurist's son) and Mira Spade; Fin was the one who stole the Future of Chaos out of labyrinth #297,353 only having it for a short time before Erin stole it back and "joined" it where it would be safe. Some years later Fin killed his father Erin at a placed known as the Dais.

Garo Belin – 2nd life, son of a middling merchant family; After starting to remember his past life as Fin and thinking he was going crazy, Garo went to the Dais (the place where the geyser labyrinth will eventually be, and currently is in fics timeline). There Garo found Erin Spade's skull and died doing the spell that put Erin’s soul in the skull.

?? – 3rd life; remembered 1st & 2nd lives when he was 10yrs. Collected Erin Spade’s skull that Garo spelled, and finally got some answers from Erin. Because of that he found a purpose that the other incarnations have worked toward and built upon. He's also the one who created what is now known as the Agents of Chaos; and is the one who was/is still called the "Master of Master's".

?? – 4th life

?? – 5th life

Everard Spade – 6th life; was Master of the Agents of Chaos; Captain Shadow killed him 3yrs before she was locked in the geyser labyrinth. Jax currently has his old journal thanks to Iban telling him where to look.

Alowishus Spade – 7th life, currently 380yrs; spent several adult years working on his own before rejoining the Agents of Chaos. Challenged and killed Alric (Iban's third great grandfather) for the right to be Master of the Agents of Chaos.

*Note: thanks to learning and using corpse magic, Alowishus is by FAR the longest lived of all his lives. His second longest life was his 1st incarnation Fin who lived 77yrs.

Next chapter snippet:

“We’ll sort that out later.  For now surrender and come with me, and I will see no one gets harmed.”

“And who might you be?”  Teris asked.

“Commander Fanzell.”  Fanzell said.

It was then that Teris noticed the diamond on his grimoire.

[1zashreena1]

I Am Having a Sad -9

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: Princess has a bad and lonely self-esteem day. Diego goes too far too fast from 2500 miles away and she calls her safeword for the first time in her life. 

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

FEELS. the L word, SAFEWORD, depression/anxiety, self-esteem issues, sensory processing issues, sel-expression difficulties, plus size woman+fit man, soft!Diego,  overwhelmed Princess, is a relationship happening?? apparently. Leftover high school Spanish.

A/N:  Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic​​​​ @symbiont13​​​​ @nicke0115​​​​ @bunnykjm​​​​ @rosee-sensuelle​​​​ @girlpornparadise​​​​ @mandoplease​​​​ @heresathreebee​​​​ @xxsteph-enrixx​​​​ @jetiikad​​​​ @joalsglasses​​​​ @mutantcookiesecrets​​​​ @demoncatstone​​​​ @squidlywiddly87​​​​ @lockedoutofmyotherblog​​​ @poeedamerons​​

I am having a sad. This is normal and okay. I just have to wait it out. I do not need to text him. This pep talk would be more effective if you would stop staring longingly at the last selfie he sent you.

It isn't working. All you want right now is to be smothered in Diego but he is in a different time zone. And you don't want to be clingy. And demanding. And needy.

Surely making yesterday's selfie your new lock screen will help, right? 

With a big sigh you flop backwards into your bed. You eye your phone like it's a live grenade. It hasn't even been eight hours since the last text and. And you have this… pain? In your chest? What if I'm annoying him?

He has to be super busy, I should just wait. What time even is it in LA right now?

You snatch up the phone and check. 7:46 pm PDT. You wonder what he ate today. Did he have dinner yet? What shirt is he wearing? Does he have a headache? He always says he has a headache when he gets back to New York. And then you rub his head, stroke through his soft hair, stretch out his solid neck, break up all the adhesions in those broad shoulders.

Bitch, this is not helping. What do you hate about him?

Oh yeah, that list is blank.

You open up the text conversation and stare at the blinking cursor. Just one text can't hurt, right?

You look at the selfie again. He's in bed, deep plum sheet tucked up under his chin, all sleepy chocolate eyes and a soft little smile. His face is relaxed, leaning against his left hand. His beard is ruffled on one side, flattened on the other from where he must have slept on it. You can feel tears welling up again. 

How the fuck is he so gorgeous? Why is someone who looks like that sending me selfies? I have no right to this. I don't deserve this. 

You reach out and trace one finger down his cheek. His right dimple is visible under the stubble. Minimizing the picture, you go back to the cursor. The screen is blurry until you blink and one tear slips out. 

You type out one hasty 'hey' and hit send before you can quadruple guess yourself. This is stupid. He's too busy for your little drama queen hissy fit meltdown.

Sorry, should've asked if you're busy first 

Send.

Enough time passes that you flip the phone screen-down and plop it on your heaving chest. You bring both hands to your face and press into your closed eyelids. Just as you reach back down with a huge sigh the phone vibrates.

Princessssss. You know I'm never busy to you

You choke out a sob-laugh and try to breathe normally. Okay, now a decision. Idle chatter or metric fuckton of feels? While you waffle about it, Diego initiates a videocall. Oh, hell no. You jab 'Decline' so hard it bends your nail back.

What is wrong? Why can't I see you?

I just look like shit rn. Please don't 

That has never been true. Mi princesa bonita

Always quick with the compliments. You sniffle.

I just. I guess I just miss you. Tonight

Perfect, you hit send before could have deleted it. Great job. Wonderful. Brilliant. 

Is everything ok? This does not sound like sexytimes

Oh, Diego. 

Yeah, I'm fine. Mostly. I mean nothing is wrong, its just me

Just me having feels

… should you have sent that? Probably not. Do you regret it? Yes, instantly. In fact, if preemptive regret were possible you would already have drowned in it.

The phone is quiet for a minute. Good job dumbass, now he IS annoyed.

What kind? Sad feels? Headache feels? Work is stupid and frustrating feels? Huffy feels that require cheese? You have many feels. At all times. It sounds exhausting 

Yep. I'm annoying and clingy. You chastise yourself rather effectively.

You're right. Sorry. I got this

Does that sound bitchy? Is it bitchy? Oh my god, I need an off button.

Nonono. I asked. You have to answer. Its a rule

Your laugh is sharp. 

Since when do you care about rules lol

When they're your rules. We agreed to answer direct questions honestly, yes?

Well fuck. He got you there. You had agreed to that. When you two sat down in your living room after the Emotional Spanking*™ and had a 'groundframe setup' discussion. Sometimes you were fairly certain he mangled phrases just to watch your eye twitch violently. Little shit. 

OK fine. I'm feeling shitty about myself.  Happy??

Now that is bitchy. 

FORBIDDEN

And no, that does not please Diego

And is that why I exist? To please you??? 

Before you can stop it, your temper flares.

No Princess. The other way. Let me please you

Oh no. Oh shit. What. Is. Happening?? You are royally fucked now. This entire conversation has gone so completely off the rails that you can't even define a 'train'. Those little bouncing dots have not stopped yet.

Should I tell you how I miss you? How these stupid meetings and these stupid people and my stupid sister bore me when I would rather be listening to you read a dictionary? Or sing every word to every song ever played on the radio? Or explain the differences between cat breeds?

Or maybe I could say how ridiculously empty this bed is with only me in it. How there are no tiny socks hidden under the comforter. Not a single lip balm in sight.

Perhaps you need a list of everything I would touch. The soft lips. A little bitty hand. That tiny ribcage. Those thick thighs. With my beard, ofc. Your forehead with mine?

Oh. Ohh. Oh no. This is not fair. This is an attack. How did he just break me like this? Your face is flushed and you are crying outright now. You have to stop this right now.

Stop.stop please. Diego no

Diego yessss 

You can't take anymore. This isn't funny. You can't even form words. When autocorrect suggests the picture of a pineapple you stab it and then hit send in rapid succession.

Pinnaea🍍🍍

………………………...

Your phone emits one aborted ring then it cuts off.

Can I call? Please

You're trying to figure out a way to calm yourself, to stifle the heaving gasps and whiny sobs. You're nodding. Not useful, idiot, you scold yourself.

No video. Just talk. Please Princess

You can't say no to that when he is trying so hard. 

Ok yeah 

You barely see the message load on the screen when the ringing starts up again. Smacking the green button entirely too hard, you hold your breath to stop the pitiful sounds.

"Princess?" His voice is cautious, tone soft.

"I'm h-here." Is all you can manage. Any more and you'll burst into sobs again.

"Are you in bed?" Keeping it short and precise. Yes or no answers. Nothing too demanding. 

"Yeah. S-s-sitting." He is being so sweet. How is someone like Diego so sweet to you. Something rustles in the background. 

"What was it? A specific word? Or just too much?" His voice is hushed, like he might be in a small room…

"Are… are you in a c-c-closet?" Is he really…? You hold your breath.

"Si. Your closet is too small. I was going to send you a picture." He answers.

You absolutely cannot deal with this man. 

"Baby, I--" Your stupid soprano voice gives away how emotional you really are. He was going to send you a picture of a closet big enough for you to hide. Probably a panoramic shot so you could fully visualize it. Your chest compresses and you gasp.

"Princess? Talk. Make a noise. Something!" He sounds panicked. You suddenly remember he can't read your face this way. He can't see your pleased smile.

"That's. That's just. Diego, I love you so much." Its out before you can stop it. Even though you know he can't see it, you still hide your face.

"Love." He breathes softly into the phone. "Tell Diego what you need, my good little girl." His voice is quiet, controlled. He is letting you lead him where you want him. Everywhere. Forever.

You feel safe enough to actually confess, "I just have a, a really hard time believing… all of. That." You wave your hand in the air vaguely. "Not that you're lying!" You rush to clarify. "Just that anyone could actually like, well seems to, at least, everything…?"

"Did that make any sense?" You chew your lip anxiously.

His soft chuckle makes your stomach flip. "Well, it was technically English." Your snort sends him into quiet giggles.

"I like hearing you laugh." You whisper. He goes silent. You tense up.

"Perfect little princess. No one has ever told me that before. Most people are frightened of my laugh." He seems a little bewildered by his own words. Like he didn't mean for that to come out but now he definitely wants to hear the reaction.

You cover your smile, then pick up the phone so you can lie down. "Apparently I'm not most people." You feel around blindly until you locate TMP (Tiny Murder Panther) and tuck the stuffed animal under your chin for cuddles. "I like your voice, too. Like when you talk to me. Sometimes its just the words. Or rather my ingesting of them of that trips me up." Your quiet sniffle is hidden in silky black fur.

"The words are the problem? Do I need a, a…. The book with words that all mean the same thing." He bites out.

Sometimes you forget that English is his second language. Then things like this happen. And its fucking adorable.

"Thesaurus. Synonyms, baby." Your smile is audible.

"I know!" He huffs in mock indignation.

"I know you know. That's cute, though."

"So are your little 'aqui's and 'si's and 'ahora's."

"Fine! Gawd!" 

You both dissolve into laughter. It fades into easy silence while you rub your cheek over faux fur. 

He sighs gently into the phone. "Was it the forehead touching?" His voice trembles a bit, like he is unsure that he should have asked. As though afraid. A little overwhelmed, just like you.

"Um. Yes. Actually. That was. Yeah, that did it." You blink back tears. "We have a thing. We're a 'we'."

"That is what you want, yes?" Diego sounds cautious. As if he might accidentally utter an irreversible spell or something. Then, a quiet whisper, "It's what I want."

You suck in a deep breath and decide to just force it out. Just take what you desire. Jump already.

"I want you. I don't think a typical, um, relationship would work. But, people can define themselves. Relationships should operate the same way."

That… that actually sounded decisive and authoritative. Wow. You're really that bitch tonight, huh? You are very pleased with yourself. You can hear something sliding against the phone but can't identify the sound.

"There she is." The wide smile in his voice stabs directly into your heart. It was his beard rubbing the phone when he smiled. You laugh with his approval, pleasure burning through your veins.

"Maybe I can write some stuff down. For discussion purposes. Maybe you can write some stuff down for me. Reading it makes it seem more real to me."

"If that is your royal decree, Princess." He shuffles around, you can hear clothing rustling.

"Do you really like finding my orphan socks?" Your voice is sly, like a kid springing a trap question. He likes that smirky tone and you know it.

"They are cute. Just like the tiny feet. You are so very little, Princess." Oh, but he knows exactly how to flip the trap back onto you. The sound of muffled tapping comes through the line. "Tiny feet. Added to the list." His voice echoes the smallest bit, he must have you on speaker so he can access the note app. "Next item: fat ass."

You explode into guffaws. "Damnit Diego!" Your wheezing almost drowns out his husky laughter. 

"Wait! I almost forgot! Fan-tasss-tic. Rrrrack." He sounds out the words as he types them. You lose vocal control again, giggling like a child. Logically you know these juvenile jokes shouldn't be this amusing, but clearly you both have the same maturity level.

"Baby, you are my favorite pervert." Your declaration is met with haughtiness. 

"I had better be your only pervert, Princess." The possessive tone straightens your spine with shock. "You are mine!" He growls fiercely. 

Everything is quiet for a very long minute. You seem to have consumed every butterfly, hot sauce, and poprocks-and-cola mixture on the planet when you weren't paying attention. 

You think about all the gifts. Designer purses, specially tailored clothing, the six pairs of redbottoms you now own, how the last ring he gave you still twinkles up at you from your right hand (he took great pleasure in ensuring it fit your middle finger so you can still be pretty while you flip him off).

You remember all the places he has taken you. The Michelin starred restaurants, that hole-in-the-wall Mexican place where they know him by first name is your favorite, the stupid stores he wanders through with you, the cheesy tourist traps where he always gets you a hideously clichéd souvenir. 

Your memory flashes through a slide show of his laughter. Gleeful giggles at your horrified reaction to the neon orange lipstick he presented in Sephora. His wheezing delight when you gagged on the seaweed appetizer he shoveled into your mouth before you could object. The gentle, knowing chuckle when you pulled TMP out of your bag to take a nap two weekends ago.

You realize he is entirely correct.

"Yes I am, Diego." Is your quiet confirmation. 

"Bicki. I." He seems startled. You stay silent and let him gather his thoughts. The swallow is audible before he continues hesitantly, "I will see you this weekend, mi amor?"

All the ways this man says 'I love you' are so many more than just the actual words. Your pleased smile stretches your cheeks so far it hurts.

"Yes please!" Your shameless request ends in a yawn. "Sorry." 

"You need to sleep for work, Princess. I have one last meeting here then I will be there tomorrow." 

You wish he was here now but keep that to yourself. 

"OK, let me know when you're here." 

I am so not wearing panties under that new maxidress for the flight up and demanding that he pick me up personally. Yes. A perfect plan. You amuse even yourself with your scheming.

"Be careful tonight, Diego. I want you to come home to me." The thought of anything happening to him crushes your throat.

"I, I want that, too. Love you." All comes tumbling out of him in a rushed confession of quiet hopefulness. It makes you so happy that tears well up again. Fucking stop this, woman.

"Love you. Bye, baby." You whisper warmly, hoping he can feel even an ounce of how deliriously happy he makes you.

"Goodnight, Princess." The reply is sighed, full of self-conscious relief and pleasure. His rough voice is so calm and soothing that you nod off before the line disconnects, face tucked into his miniature proxy.

…………………………...

Incoming text

Friday 12:09am

From: Murder Panther

🥰💋💟💯🔜

[illfoandillfie]

oooo first time i’m doing this :) can i get a general reading?

thanks for your patience honey! Here’s your reading

~Readings are closed, I’m just finishing off a few from the last batch so please don’t send any more~

tarot: page of swords, 4 of pentacles, 7 of cups, 10 of cups, 2 of cups, 8 of swords, the fool. 

I see a potential for a relationship here. It could be romantic but doesn’t have to be. If there’s someone you’d like to be friends with or someone you’ve been considering asking out this may relate to them specifically but it could also be that someone will come into your life soon or a more general desire rather than a specific one. There is also an interpretation of these cards that relates to self love and a relationship with yourself which is worth mentioning. I feel it most strongly in those first 4 cards rather than the last 3 but I figured I should mentioning it just in case. I’ll talk a little more about what those messages are as I go through the card but take whatever resonates. Obviously I dont know your situation. The relationship with another person meaning did jump out at me first and feels a bit stronger but if you’re aro and/or ace or just not looking for connections with others at the moment, the self love related messages might be more important. Again, take what resonates and leave the rest. I try to be specific with these things but I’m not a confident enough reader to pick which will be more relevant, particularly since you’re on anon and that can make it harder to know if i’m on the right track. 

So, the page of swords is the first card here. He represents curiosity and restlessness as well as mental energy. This page can sometimes relate to observing someone and a secretive nature which is why I suggested it could be someone you have your eye on either to date or just befriend. 

Now, the page could be representing yourself and in that case the curiosity and excitement or nervous energy suggested by the card could relate to your own feelings. But it may also be representing another person and, I think it’s more likely to be this interpretation based on the other cards. Either way there’s a sense that connecting with this page will bring you happiness. The 10 of cups is a card of fulfilment and dreams coming true so if there is someone you’ve been thinking about connecting with, taking steps to make that connection real will lead to a success and joy. Of course, if the page is you it could be speaking of self love and finding joy and peace within yourself. 

The 4 of pentacles is about protecting what is yours and pulling in what you want to claim. And it’s being clarified by the 2 of cups which is about partnership and unity and connection. Again, there is a way to interpret these as self love and taking care of yourself. The 4 of pentacles can be read as selfishness and hoarding but the more positive interpretation reminds me of the messages you hear in airplane safety instructions - put on your own mask before helping others. These cards could be reminding you to take care of yourself or to put yourself first every now and then if it’s something you struggle with. But, the 2 of cups is generally more about teamwork and partnership with another person. Together these cards could be indicating a feeling of insecurity in yourself and a desire to have someone with which to share your world. It could also relate to feeling jealous of anyone this page of swords gets close to out of a desire for them to be close to you. 

Finally we have the 7 of cups being clarified by the 8 of swords and the fool. Like I said earlier, these are harder to fit into the self love interpretation which is why i’ve emphasised the relationship aspects of each card. 

The seven of cups has 2 main meanings. It can relate to choices or to dreams/fantasies. Fantasising about someone, daydreaming about being in a relationship or friendship, can feel safer than the reality of chasing that relationship. But these cards want you to step out of your comfort zone and go after that connection you want so badly. The 8 of swords is about being held back or feeling trapped by yourself. It speaks of anxieties and self-doubt keeping you from changing your situation and the fool has the opposite sort of energy. the fool is about taking a leap and not worrying about what could go wrong. He symbolises a new beginning and having the courage to go for what you want. So all together these cards are saying that if you don’t just go for it, take the plunge and introduce yourself, then you will always be stuck with just your daydreams and you won’t actually experience the real thing. You need to let go of your fears and trust that it’ll go well. 

You got 3 moonology oracle cards: Full Moon In Gemini (The answers you need are coming) + Full Moon In Cancer (A personal issue reaches resolution) + New Moon in Aquarius (Bring love into the situation). 

So in the guidebook for the moonology deck it gives a detailed rundown of each card’s main meanings as well as a few smaller additional meanings and one of those for full moon in gemini is “someone is trying to flirt with you - have you noticed?” IT might be that the page of swords has noticed you and is thinking about being with you. Or, if you’ve had your eye on someone, the meaning could be flipped and be about you flirting with them. Either way, whatever question you are grappling with here or having trouble vocalising may be answered soon. Gemini is related to communication so it’s possible this card is tying to that fool/8 of swords energy and encouraging you to communicate what you want. 

We have a similar sort of “everything will be fine” energy of completion with the full moon in cancer. This situation is drawing to a close and opening up a new door for you. The Moon-Cancer combination can cause heightened emotions which makes sense since we had 3 cups tarot cards above and the suit of cups is closely tied to emotions. One interesting little thing is that in the guidebook it warns not to get “too clingy” and the 4 of pentacles card can be read as a clingy person or relationship. This could relate to those potential feelings of jealousy I mentioned and not letting them get the best of you. 

The New Moon in Aquarius card is about moving forward and not looking back. It’s got a similar energy to The Fool and warns that change is coming towards you but whether you get it will depend on whether you believe you can have it. You can bring that love and connection you’re dreaming of towards you but you have to believe you deserve it and block out any self-doubts before you can take the leap. 

Your green witch oracle card is Cauliflower (Transition)

Change is definitely coming towards you. This is the time to let go of whatever your holding onto and whatever is holding you back. 

From the prisim oracle we have Stop and Protection. 

Stop can be a sign to pause for a moment, reflect and collect your thoughts or take a break if you need it. It may also indicate a good time to think about what is stopping or blocking you from achieving what you want and how you can overcome those obstacles. 

Protection is about feeling personally save and protected as you navigate through life. It asks you to find balance between pushing yourself through situations that made you anxious or nervous which also finding ways to make yourself feel secure. Again, it’s very much tied to that idea of moving forward and allowing yourself to try new things and go after your dreams but also it’s about figuring out how to look after yourself as you step out of your comfort zone, be it through constant positive affirmations or turning to others for support, 

Finally your ice cream oracle is Maple (Kindness/Friendship/Support) 

This could connect with the previous Protection card and indicate that friends can help you make your move or take action to make this connection a reality. It could also be indicating that kindness is necessary both to the person you’re connecting with and to yourself. 

[panharmonium]

@MERLINOBSESSIONIST I’M -

YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND HOW FILLED WITH LOVE THIS MADE ME FEEL

(^me @ you!!!!!  but also merlin @ will lbr can you IMAGINE)

i know you know i don’t really read much fic but in terms of just tag browsing, almost everything i’ve ever seen about reincarnation is either about just arthur or just the camelot crew and i will tell you right now, the ONLY acceptable explanation for this is that will hasn’t shown up yet, like - it is patently not fair for merlin’s ultimate ‘happy ending’ to do nothing but affirm the message that camelot was the only thing about his life that mattered.

so perhaps, instead: reincarnation runs in reverse, so that merlin finds the first person he lost last.  long after he stopped expecting to meet anyone else, long after he figured this new world’s roster was complete - even merlin assumed it was just camelot that was part of this grand story; destiny never seemed to care about any other part of him before.  

so he doesn’t even think about it.  it doesn’t even cross his mind as a possibility.  

until, of course, it does.

[in other words: i took your ask and wrote you a story.]

i really don’t care for this destiny shit.

merlin hasn’t done accidental magic for a millennium and a half (and it’s a good thing, too, considering his capabilities) but in that space between one thunderous heartbeat and the next, the pavement under his feet splits into a spiderweb network of cracks, and along each crack blooms a tangled vein of grass, shockingly green and decidedly un-urban and definitely not the result of any conceivable natural processes.

will is unimpressed.  “you haven’t changed one ruddy bit,” he says.  “you numpty.  it’s broad daylight.”

merlin wants to say that will hasn’t changed one ruddy bit either, because no one else on earth can manage to show up fifteen centuries after their supposedly permanent death and still make merlin want to strangle them within seconds, but it comes out like “mmmf  ffmm mfmf” because merlin is sort of strangling will after all, in a hug, and his face is mashed into will’s clothes, and he can’t enunciate properly with a mouthful of t-shirt.

(he also can’t enunciate properly when he’s crying, but that’s nobody’s damn business.)

merlin is insufferable for weeks.

that’s will’s opinion on the subject, anyhow.  merlin maintains that this is an exaggeration, in response to which will retorts, “yesterday when i woke up i cracked my skull on your nose ‘cos you were hanging over me while i was having a nap, merlin, you’ve gone completely round the bed - ”

later on, maybe, merlin will admit that perhaps will has a point, and maybe merlin was being just a little bit overbearing.  

but in the moment, all merlin can think about is zippers.

zippers are a clever little invention.

of all the innovations merlin has seen emerge over the last 1500 years, he has always been oddly charmed by the zipper, which up until now he believed to be a perfectly designed machine.  currently, though, he’s revised his opinion - zippers for fastening two bits of clothing together are handy, make no mistake, but merlin, who has resolved to never again let will out of his sight, thinks zipping two people together would be a handier function by half, and wonders if zipper manufacturers are open to suggestions.  

it’s just that not letting will out of his sight means not letting will do...well, almost anything, really, and it would be much easier to accomplish this if merlin could keep will where he wanted him while also having both hands free.  but merlin is willing to make sacrifices in the name of precautions, and he resolves to master the art of shadowing will’s every move even without the aid of specialized fastening apparatuses, for all that a zipper would have been more convenient.  

for some unfathomable reason, will seems to find this annoying.  but merlin tries to make himself feel better about his friend’s marked ingratitude by convincing himself that will’s reluctance to follow perfectly reasonable, safety-related rules is just a consequence of his natural anti-authoritarian streak, and not, in fact, a reaction to the fact that merlin has gone completely round the twist.

merlin is not being unreasonable.  he’s not.  

it’s a dangerous world out there.  you can’t be too careful.  

“what are you doing?” asks merlin, alarmed.

will looks blankly at merlin over the hood of the car.  “getting in?”

“oh, no.  you can’t sit there.”

“can’t i?  i’m driving.”

“no.”

“no, i’m not driving?”

“no.”

“you’re driving, then.”

“no.”

“i don’t understand.  who’s driving?”

“...no.”

“...how are we supposed to do your groceries?”

“look, i just think, you know, let’s just...skip it.”

“merlin,” will says, with forced calm, “you have no toilet paper.”

“what are you doing?”

“...eating.”

“you’ve not had that before.”

“so?”

merlin hesitates.  “do you know, allergies are hundreds of times more common now than they were when we - ”

“merlin...”

“i’m only saying that if you haven’t tried it before - ”

“merlin - ”

“maybe i should just - ”

“merlin, if you try to take this plate away from me i am dumping the sticky bit all over your trousers.”

“what are you doing?”

“nothing, merlin.”

“you got up.”

“so?”

“where are you going?”

“...the loo, merlin.”

will tries his best to be patient with merlin, but unfortunately patience has never been one of his strong suits, so merlin’s fingers do end up getting slammed in a number of bathroom doors before merlin manages to finally (grudgingly) admit that will has, in point of fact, always been rather more self-sufficient than merlin himself, and that will has also, in general, been quite good about not getting himself killed in stupid accidents, when left to his own devices.

“so,” merlin concedes, “as long as no one’s actively trying to murder you - ”

“can’t promise anything,” says will, around a mouthful of toast.  “something about me puts people’s backs right up, merlin; i know a couple of blokes who’d be well pleased if i did drop dead of a freak nectarine allergy - ”

“ - then i suppose,” merlin continues, gritting his teeth, “you’ll probably be fine.”

merlin is proud of himself for deciding to be such a grown-up, and he thinks his insufferable period ends there.  

the rest of his friends quietly disagree, even if they never say so to merlin’s face, because for them, merlin’s insufferable period has just begun.  merlin, who has spent the last 1500 years diligently serving someone else’s interests, has now suddenly reacquired the one thing in his life that was ever just his, and the fact of the matter is that will’s reappearance, unexpected as it is, turns merlin temporarily feral.

even after merlin decides to stop (literally) breathing down will’s neck at every turn, he still goes virtually everywhere at will’s elbow (if they go out at all), and he comes home in exactly the same position, and he sleeps on the living room floor because that’s where he and will are lying when they talk themselves out in the middle of the night, and he gleefully declines invitations to do things with other people because he is already doing exactly what he wants to do, and he will continue to do so for exactly as long as he wants to do it, and now it is everybody else’s turn to wait.

people who haven’t seen him for a long time start asking him if he wants to come round, and he doesn’t even bother with ‘oh, i’m a bit busy atm;’ he just replies <no> and then "loses” his phone behind the couch.

(gwen is the only one who ever gets a clarifying text after one of these episodes, the content of which reads i didn’t mean that in a nasty way.  she sends back a little purple flower in response, because of course she knows perfectly well he didn’t - she laughed, to be honest, when she got the original message.)

(she thinks it’s nice to hear merlin using the word no as a complete sentence, actually.)

(she knew him the longest, after everything went to hell.  by now, they understand each other.)

most of merlin’s other friends don’t bother him too much after their first failed attempts at connecting, because they can take a hint, and they have their own lives to live, and they assume they’ll just see merlin when he wants to see them.

a few of them, however, are accustomed to getting everything they want, very quickly, almost all of the time, and said people (person) spent a formative chunk of their lives relying on merlin to (literally) drag them out of bed every morning, so these people (person) turn out to be a bit more persistent.

merlin’s email inbox pings him multiple times a day, asking increasingly curious and impatient variations on “where are u,” until merlin activates the out-of-office reply feature and sets the bounce-back message to “at the tavern.”  merlin’s mobile keeps ringing, until he magicks it to redirect all incoming calls to an in-home laundry service.  the landline starts ringing then as well, at which point will picks up the phone and says, his face utterly serious, “we’re not home,” while merlin cackles (unsubtly, audibly) in the background.

much later, when merlin has finally relaxed a bit and rejoined society, arthur will grumble about this, because he still gets Like That sometimes and doesn’t appreciate being Mocked, thank you very much (especially not by “that fellow”), but will isn’t the least bit concerned.

“i wasn’t taking the piss, mate,” will says, quite obviously doing just that.  “i thought you might fall for it, is all.”

arthur, huffy: “why in god’s name would you think i would believe such an obvious lie?”

will:

what eventually gets merlin and will out of their self-imposed quarantine is not, in fact, arthur’s exhaustive collection of attempts to hassle merlin by phone, email, and carrier pigeon, but rather a simple text from gwaine, which, in true gwaine fashion, asks no questions and makes no demands, but contains instead a single blurry photo of what might be elyan and percival looking disappointed and droopy in front of some kind of beach, though the sky behind them seems very grey and the camera lens appears to be smeared with raindrops.

>>freak thunderstorms on beach day/weatherman said no chance??? >>NOT ON, you funky little wizard

merlin laughs and lays his phone aside, not feeling any particular need to explain for the thousandth time that he does not, in fact, control the weather (well - all right, not usually, anyhow; there was that one time, yes, fine, but on the whole, natural forces were not to be trifled with), and then, as quickly as he puts the text out of his mind, he snaps up the phone again, struck by a thrill of realization.  “gwaine,” he breathes gleefully, consumed suddenly with anticipation.

“wossat?” will asks from the other side of the table, barefoot and pyjama-clad.

“we’re going out,” merlin says, popping up from his chair and pushing will out of his seat.  “put your shoes on.”  

will allows merlin to hustle him out of the kitchen, but grumbles, “can i put my clothes on, too, or are we trying to be somewhere yesterday?”

“you can put your clothes on,” merlin says, shoving will into the living room.  “i want you to meet somebody.”

will puts on the brakes immediately, stopping them both in the doorway to the hall.  “who?”

“a friend of mine.”

“what friend?”

merlin pauses.  will’s expression is suddenly wary, and merlin knows him well enough to tread carefully.  will doesn’t know any of merlin’s other people, and he claims he doesn’t care to, ostensibly because he’s got enough friends already, but merlin knows what the real issue is, and it’s that the picture-plastered refrigerator door in merlin’s kitchen is a disquieting, uneasy mystery to will, a puzzle he on some deep level doesn’t believe he fits into.  

merlin can’t blame him for feeling that way.  it’s not like merlin did much to disabuse him of that notion, after all, in their old life.  

“just a friend,” merlin decides, keeping it simple.  “gwaine.  you’ll like him.”

“i don’t know him,” will counters.

merlin spins will around by the shoulders and points him in the direction of the bedroom.  “trust me.  you want to.”

don’t leave, merlin texts gwaine, afterwards, while will is getting dressed.  stay at the beach.

merlin’s phone buzzes a moment later.  it’s tipping down out here.

merlin leans against the warm, rain-spattered glass of the window and checks the sky, which is grey still, but brightening, and then looks at will, who has emerged from the bedroom, shoes in hand.

don’t bother about the weather, merlin types.

why?  gwaine’s reply is almost instantaneous, but merlin ignores it for a minute, watching as will crouches in the foyer and does up his laces.  

merlin spent half his life at home watching will’s hands fly over more complicated knots than the bow in a pair of trainers - double-half hitches for calving ropes, halter loops for wayward goats, ring knots draped over gateposts and snap-releases for pulling legs up and out of kicking range.  will was always good at that sort of thing, at anything handsy - it was how he talked, when he finally ran out of things to say with his mouth.  his fingers were always moving, tying string or tilling soil or turning trees into harrows and haycarts and hundreds of yards of rough-hewn fencing.  he always had sawdust in the hem of his trousers and splinters in his hands, and - for far too long a period of their lives - a little frowny crease in his brow.

why?  gwaine’s inquiry is still glowing up at merlin, awaiting a response.

merlin watches will double-knot his second shoe in one brisk motion.  will is tidier now, and his hands are less scarred, but his fingers move as surely as they ever did.  and even if his forehead sometimes still sports that same little uncertain crinkle, merlin has caught will in a silly grin once or twice, too.

merlin ducks his head and taps out his answer:  

i think things are looking up.

“you were talking to lancelot?”

it gives merlin an indescribably warm and pleasant squirm in his stomach to see will and lancelot chatting together in gwen’s back garden.  lancelot is hardly ever in town these days, and merlin has dragged will out to this to-do specifically because if there’s one event lancelot will show up to this year, it’s gwen’s birthday.  but will hasn’t fallen into the rhythm of these things yet, and he’s always in danger of slinking off to the sidelines, to less well-tended patches of plants illuminated only by the twinkle lights wound into gwen’s fencing.  he is startlingly uncertain now, in a way that would have shocked merlin in another life, though these days merlin just takes it in stride, joining will on whatever patch of grass he’s chosen for himself, where they eat from a shared paper plate, and eventually the rest of the party comes to them, because people follow merlin like a beacon wherever he goes, even into dark corners.

will nods.  “yeah.”

eloquent, as usual.  merlin prods him in the arm.  “what do you think of him, then?”

will makes a face.  “i’ve only just met the man.”

“i’ve never known that to stop you having an opinion.”

will sighs.  “he seems fine, merlin.”

on the other side of the garden, elyan is building up the firepit, breaking up sticks for kindling.  arthur is watching lancelot, who is watching gwen, who is radiant and beaming in a bright yellow sundress, but she, too, is watching both of her observers, whenever they aren’t watching her.  

none of them look troubled, exactly.  just thoughtful.  

“he seemed to know who i was,” will says suddenly.

merlin is surprised to hear will offer anything further on the subject.  “well, i suppose he does, a bit.  he’s my friend, you know.  he’s heard of you.”

“the rest of your friends hadn’t heard of me.”

the rest of merlin’s friends are, at that moment, pestering leon to give elyan back a confiscated can of lighter fluid nicked from the grill, swearing on their oaths that the (former) blacksmith isn’t planning on doing any forge-appropriate stunts.  “lancelot’s different,” merlin says after a minute.  “it was different with him.”

“how different?”

gwaine pops the can out of leon’s hands with a pair of tongs and tosses it to arthur, who tosses it to lancelot, who looks surprised at being included.

“well...” merlin says, and pauses for a moment before continuing.  “he knew me.  not like the rest of that lot, i mean.”  he glances at will.  “like you.”

will raises his eyebrows and looks at lancelot again, as if re-evaluating him.

“i couldn’t tell them about you,” merlin says, after a longer pause.  “they wouldn’t have understood.”

will watches lancelot lob the can of lighter fluid to percival, who slings it back to elyan, who freezes mid-pour when gwen hollers his name in That Voice.  “well, that’s all right, then,” will murmurs, almost to himself.  then he turns back to merlin, lifting one curious eyebrow.  “how in the hell did that happen, then?”

“it was sort of an accident.”

“i thought you said gaius was an accident.”

“well - yeah.  also that.”

a disbelieving laugh bursts out of will’s mouth, startling them both.  it’s loud and bell-bright and it turns gwen’s head from where she stands over the picnic table, setting out a plate of desserts.  she catches merlin’s eye and smiles.

“right, then,” will says, recovering himself, but smiling still.  “i’ll have to give this lancelot bloke another go, then.”

“please,” merlin says.  “you should.  he’s worth it.”

will nods to himself, considering lancelot for a moment.  “a whole two of us, is it?”

merlin nods.

“we’ve got nearly enough people to start ourselves a little Society now.”

“a small one.”

“very small,” will agrees.  “...not that - well, i mean...”  he looks suddenly uncomfortable, like he’s said too much.  “i mean, not that i’m saying...well, cat’s out of the bag now, isn’t it, so obviously it doesn’t matter - ”

merlin is already shaking his head.  “no,” he says, stopping will mid-sentence.  

will’s gaze flickers uncertainly between merlin and the group clustered around the firepit.  “no?  i thought you said - ”

“no,” merlin repeats, his voice quiet but uncompromising, “it matters.  don’t ever think that, will.  you have no idea.”

will turns slightly pink and diverts his attention to making an intense inspection of the grass under his feet; merlin decides to leave the subject there, for now, and let will have this moment to be flustered.  someday, maybe, it will take more than the barest scrap of appreciation to turn will sixteen shades of red, but will was always like this at home, too, quick to close himself down, easy for merlin to embarrass, taken off guard by unfiltered affection and squirming at too much sincerity, unable to conceive of himself as something anyone would need or want in any way that wasn’t “an extra pair of hands in the field.”  

merlin did not do much to correct that impression, back then, he knows.  but he’s been given a gift, now, a chance to amend his first and ugliest mistake, and he is going to be deliberate about this unexpected chance at atonement.  he is going to be better.  braver.  he will be less selfish, he promises himself, more patient.  gaius always says that allowing sufficient time for regrowth is the only surefire way to set a broken bone, and merlin doesn’t care if it takes him another 1500 years - he owes will too much to offer him anything less.

will returns his attention to the group on the patio, determinedly looking anywhere but merlin’s face.  “that looks like a torch in a hayloft,” he mutters, watching arthur, gwen, and lancelot’s unfolding dramedy of longing looks.  “long story there, i take it?”

merlin has to smile.  “i’ll tell you all about it, i promise.  you might want to clear your schedule for a week or two, though.”

will shrugs.  “i’m not going anywhere,” he says.  but then he looks sideways at merlin, teetering on the edge of an unasked question.

merlin does not make him wait.  not this time, not ever again.  

“neither am i,” merlin says, and settles in to watch elyan set something on fire.

there are, of course, less pleasant moments.

time has not mellowed will’s sharp edges in the slightest, and those associated with his tongue least of all.  now that he is up to speed, he’s formulated all manner of angry opinions to offer about the reeking cow pie merlin stepped into when he went to camelot, and every week seems to present him with something new to stew over, leading to episodes of simmering surliness that boil over every so often into bitter arguments.

will rarely makes these blunt and unflattering observations in the presence of merlin’s other friends, but merlin is all too aware that this is not because will is even remotely afraid to speak his mind, but rather because he is profoundly disinterested in what merlin’s camelot compatriots might have to say.  will does care what merlin has to say, even if he thinks 90% of it is “cow shyte, merlin, don’t try to feed me that rubbish,” but even merlin can’t escape will’s ire using explanations or placations or rationalizations of the Ultimate Good; will simply doesn’t care about the Powers That Be, and he tells merlin so, every time merlin tries to defend them or justify the part he himself played in their story.  

[^actual footage of will and merlin in the twenty-first century]

someday in the future, will and merlin are going to realize that they don’t actually want to accidentally (on purpose?) murder each other out of sheer frustration, so they decide they are only allowed to argue about this topic twice a year.  

for now, though, will can’t seem to shut up, and merlin can’t let will’s comments pass, and they lock horns every other week on things neither of them have any ability to change.

it’s tiresome, a little bit, and they sometimes have rip-roaring rows which are Horribly Worrisome to other people (‘oh dear, it’s really over for them this time, isn’t it’), but neither will nor merlin fret over it like the rest of their circle does.  they’ve known each other since before they could talk, and fighting with one another is a time-honored tradition, not something to be frightened of.  besides, these are not trifling, unnecessary tiffs they are having - these are necessary evils, lanced abscesses, scoured wounds.  these are bloodlettings, draining both their weary, aching bodies of accumulated poisons.  

merlin knows this has to happen.  he appreciates seeing will this way, up on his toes and full of fire, snappy and uncompromising, ready to shred illusions and evasions and excuses as if they were so many sheets of 1500 year-old parchment.  will in a fight is like a fish in the water, or a bird in the air, balletic and agile, strikingly at home, a creature in its absolute element, and merlin loves watching him, for all that it means he sometimes get bitten for getting too close.

it’s not the end of the world.  they have both known how to fight with each other for a long time.  and merlin - for whom a row with anybody else has always been tedious, uncomfortable, a bothersome disruption - does not mind rowing with will.  rowing with will is like getting his exercise.  it’s natural and familiar, and everything is where it’s supposed to be, in those tinderbox moments, even when Where It’s Supposed To Be is the two of them having an absolute cow at each other in the kitchen while the rest of their friends sit in the living room trading wide-eyed stares and trying to silently debate whether or not they should risk edging sideways out the back door.

merlin tells himself again and again that there’s no need to worry.  the other thing he’s learned from gaius is that a poorly healed fracture sometimes needs to be snapped again in order to set up properly.  

merlin wants his relationship with will to set up properly.  he’s willing to break a few bones to make it happen.

it takes a year for the cast to finally fall off.

it’s summer again by the time they come around to the marrow of the matter, to the tension undergirding all of their arguments, to the knot of grass stuck stubborn and tenacious at the heart of the concrete.

“why did you do it?”

will doesn’t answer merlin’s question right away.  they’ve just finished (or maybe are about to finish, merlin hopes, feeling strangely anticipatory, as is something tentative and promising is hanging just out of sight) a spectacular squabble, and the kitchen in which they sit seems to be sagging, unsupported in the yellow, windowless gloom, the painted cabinetry as tired as they are.

“i left you,” merlin continues, and even though the shameful taste of the truth burns on the way down, he swallows it willingly.  be better, he tells himself.  braver.  “i was afraid to tell you i was going.  i was afraid to get in touch with you after i’d left.  i never said goodbye.  i didn’t ask my mother to relay a message.”

will says nothing.  

“i let people line up to die for something i could have done myself.  i protected myself at everyone else’s expense.  i hid my secret behind our neighbors.  i got you killed.”  merlin takes a deep breath.  “i never said i was sorry.”

will taps his fingers on the table, his eyes focused somewhere off to merlin’s left.  he looks more thoughtful than angry.  “are you?”

the idea that will even needs to ask this question makes merlin want to cry.  merlin could talk for 1500 years and still never manage to explain how sorry he is.  he’s never breathed a word of it to anyone, but there was a part of him that was relieved to bargain his life away to nimueh, all those years ago.  he’d earned that punishment, he knew.  it was a just price.  

“yes,” merlin replies.  “i was wretched to you, and you saved my life.  i left you and you lied for me.  you - ”  merlin’s throat threatens to snap closed; he tells himself to finish.  be better.  be braver.  “i would never have asked you for that, will.  never.  i didn’t deserve it.”

will doesn’t say anything.  he is still not looking quite at merlin, but at the refrigerator behind merlin’s chair, which hums into the silence, blissfully unaware of the conversation taking place directly in front of it.  there’s a photo of will and merlin on the door now, added last month, and merlin still feels slightly strange, when he pulls out a jug of milk in the morning and sees will’s smiling face hanging there.  

merlin has never had a picture of will before.  he has never seen will’s face outside the confines of his own memories.

“well?” merlin prods.  “am i wrong?”

“no,” will replies, “you’re right.”

“then why did you do it?”

will sits up straighter, fixing merlin with a penetratingly direct, unflinching stare, the same startlingly candid look that merlin spent years searching for in other people’s faces, all those ages ago.  fifteen centuries of grieving later, and there it finally is - and one thing, it turns out, is exactly the same: will never did have any patience for foolish questions.  

“you know why,” is all will says.

merlin’s throat snaps shut for good.  he lets it, this time, and closes his eyes, taking a deep, wobbly breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth.  behind him, the refrigerator hums, and the tap drips onto a stack of dirty dishes lying forgotten in the sink, and somewhere, out in the heart of the city, the summer breeze ruffles a section of pavement overgrown with year-old grass.

in about three seconds, merlin is going to have a big, ugly cry in his kitchen.  it’s going to be mortifying and unsightly and sort of inconvenient, since he is supposed to be doing the washing-up, and it’s going to be even more inconvenient because will is right there, and will might not have a freak allergy to nectarines but he does have at least a little bit of an allergy to tears; his own, mostly, though merlin can’t imagine he’s going to love merlin’s very much, either, even if merlin only ever tried to test that theory once and didn’t exactly have a chance to collect any data after the fact.  

but before that inexorable wave rolls in and washes over them both, merlin takes three bracing seconds to remind himself of what he already knows: that will is going to accept merlin’s bawling, this time, or at least take it in stride, and he might even pull over a chair, and tuck up his feet, and have a silent sit with merlin for the duration, because will heard that calloused bone break, too, and felt the sharp, misaligned pieces snap finally, blessedly back into place, and he certainly knew exactly what he was doing when he answered merlin’s question.

you know why is as close to i love you as someone with will’s fraught history is ever going to get.  

and close enough is, for them - for now - close enough.

[padfootagain]

Balaenoptera Bonaerensis (I)

Chapter 1: Security Measures

 This is the first chapter for my fic with a Bodyguard AU for our dear Cap! Thank you so much to @marvelcapsicle, who is hosting the writing challenge this fic is made for.

I hope you like this fanfic, please, read the author's note on the masterlist for this series concerning any link with real events!

I did, however, spent more than 8 hours researching different elements for that story so far, and have no doubt it's just the beginning… being a writer is hard…

Word Count: 3400

"Have I ever told any of you how much I hate our job?"

"Just… twenty times today. And hundreds more if you count all the times we had to wake up early to get on a plane."

"Taking a flight at 4 am doesn't make you 'get up early', it makes you not sleep at all!"

"I'm sorry you couldn't get your baby sleep, Bucky. But there were no better flights available on such a short notice."

"Did we really have to take that job?"

By Natasha's side, on the two seats before Steve and Bucky, Sam snorted, waving the newspaper he was reading to make his point.

"In these days, you should consider yourself lucky to have a job at all," Sam replied, shaking his head. "Seven months since that mess happened in Wall Street, and it's not getting any better."

By the window, Steve took a look at the clouds they flew across, cotton-like forms drifting slowly against the blue sky. He didn't react at all as the plane shook with turbulences, too used to flying by now to even truly notice. And if his blue eyes rested on the white puffs of water outside, his mind was set on work already. The file where he had gathered the information he had found - in the little time he had had to prepare their new job - was set open on his laps. He had stopped listening to his colleagues somewhere above the Pacific Ocean. Now that they were en route towards Townsville, having changed their flight in Darwin, he had stopped to act like he was listening altogether. Maybe others would have taken it badly, but his three partners were too used to his working routine to think anything of his behaviour. And as they flew across a cloud, the world turning solely into shades of white and light grey, Steve wondered who could have sent the threats that had pushed the editor of the Townsville Bulletin to hire Steve and his team to protect one of his journalist and three scientists they worked with. Apparently, it had something to do with the scientists' study of whales, although Steve couldn’t possibly imagine why someone would want to kill anyone about a study of the population of whales in Antarctica. That was beyond him.

But the threats were real, and at the thought, his eyes travelled back to the printed letters that were sent in an attempt to stop the research, and he had no doubt that it was a threat to take seriously. The message was, after all, quite explicit. Besides, they were paying for his services, so even if the threat wasn't real, it didn't exactly matter. He wouldn't complain about an easy job for once.

However, he wasn't sure to find who could have sent the threat. In the week he had been given to prepare his departure, he couldn't really find any lead. He reckoned that talking with the people involved would help clarify the situation, or at least, he hoped so.

He went through the file again, memorizing the names and faces of the people he would have to protect for the coming months.

Sofia Longbrook – PhD student

Dr. Rosa Alvarez Santiago – Postdoctoral researcher

Dr. Y/N Y/L/N – Researcher

Luke Savoy – Journalist

Lucy McGreed – Lawyer

Joshua Alexander – Lawyer

If the threats had been pointed towards only the journalist and the research team, chances were that the two lawyers involved in this whale study might get threatened as well soon.

At least three locations for their professions were to be secured, even without taking into account the lawyers for now. Plus each of their homes. And having some of them working on a major campus that held thousands of students would be a challenge to say the least. Adding to that limited resources, So much work to be done…

The voice of the flight attendant cut Steve's thoughts, forcing him back to reality. They would soon be landing. While he folded his papers and fastened his seatbelt, the plane slowly descending under the clouds, he checked the address of the hotel he had booked one more time. After dropping by the hotel, they would meet with the people who had hired them to discuss how the security could be handled, and more importantly, what kind of threats they were truly facing.

In the seats before ad next to him, Sam and Bucky were bickering, as usual, and he chose to ignore them for now.

All he hoped for was a smooth, calm mission for a change.

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

 "This whole ordeal is absolutely ridiculous, Mark."

"Look, for the last time, Y/N: you've received threats. I will not sit down and wait to see if they were serious or not. You don't want to stop your research, and for some unknown reason, my reporter also refuses to drop the story, so all we are left with as alternative is to hire professionals who will keep you safe."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms before your chest.

"Look, we're talking about a trade. About something that involves money," Mark continued to argue. "And just like everything else that involves money, it is not so surprising to find people ready to go to extreme ways to deal with whatever goes in the way of their profit."

"I know, but…"

"No 'but'. By the way, Richard, I could use some help."

The director of your lab turned to you, but could only shrug.

"Honestly, I don't know what to say."

"You don't agree that it was the right decision to hire professional security?" the editor of Townsville newspaper asked with a frown.

"No, no, I think you were right to propose that," Richard replied, shaking his large moustache as he spoke. "All I'm saying is that Y/N is so stubborn, I really don't know what you want me to say."

You rolled your eyes again, but the ghost of a smile appeared on your lips this time.

"I just think that we're overreacting. Opinion with which you disagree, so I have to follow your and Richard's lead anyway."

"Exactly! Thank you!"

"I have to admit that I'll feel safer with a bodyguard around," Sofia, your PhD student, added. "Plus, if the one in charge of us at the lab could be a very sexy American wearing a tuxedo and dark sunglasses, that would be even better."

"They've hired bodyguards, Sofia," you replied. "Not Agent J."

"Aren't bodyguards supposed to dress up like that all the time? Kevin Costner was all dressed up too in that movie with the singer!"

"I don't know, honestly. I have to admit that I have never asked myself that question."

"I feel like the conversation has drifted…" Mark tried to bring your attention to the matter at hand, but he had already lost you and your colleagues.

"You have to admit that it's a rather good question!" Richard jumped in.

"Maybe they'll even have this kind of earpiece, you know, with the wire and everything," Sofia went on, a dreamy expression on her face as she tried to picture in her mind how her bodyguard would look like.

"They've hired only four of them," you replied. "I don't think they'll need any earpiece."

"Which, by the way, doesn't sound like much security," Joshua added. "I mean, shouldn't we all have one personal bodyguard?"

"There were no threats against you and Lucy, so…" Mark replied with a shrug.

"Of course, let the lawyers defenceless, as usual."

"What do you mean 'as usual'?"

"Ha… nevermind. I guess it's just my fate to die like this. You know, according to my astral theme I'm supposed to die a violent death."

"If you mention astrology again today, I can guarantee that you will die a violent death," you replied, pinching the sides of your nose.

"Sorry, but I'm nervous. And I always ask the stars when I'm nervous."

"Are they more talkative than Jesus? Or is the line busy for them as well?" Richard mocked, earning a kick from under the table.

Mark let himself fall down on a chair, heaving a dramatically tired sigh.

"You know, working with you guys, who are supposed to have brilliant minds and all that, kind of brought down my expectations on life."

None of you bothered to reply to his comment, too busy discussing the bodyguards who would soon arrive.

Indeed, you waited now for their arrival, all of you gathered in a meeting room in your lab. The Marine and Aquaculture labs at the James Cook University formed a large ensemble of buildings, from the tanks used for experiments and research to the offices where you were now. The buildings were often referred as MARFU for Marine and Aquaculture Research Facilities Units. They were not the most impressive buildings of the campus, and yet their research was among the most advanced in the world in terms of understanding marine life. The studied topics were vast, and your own little team was but a fraction of the people devoting their lives to understand and protect sea life.

On the north-east coast of Australia, Townsville held one of the four campuses of the James Cook University, one of the main institutions in the country. Hidden behind the large medical centre, on the south tip of the town, the university stretched to the edge of the wilder areas of Mount Stuart, the town stuck between its slope and the ocean. The white buildings for Marine Sciences research were all gathered on the eastern part of the campus, in an ensemble of about 20 separate buildings.

You were for now waiting in one of the meeting rooms on the first floor of the main building for Marine and Aquaculture, looking around you at the blank white walls and wooden tables and chairs. A poster for the defence of sharks was hung on one wall, the light of the sun falling partially on its dark blue shades, causing the colours to wane after years of exposure to the too bright rays of the Australian sun. In the corner of the room, up to the ceiling, a spider had threaded its web, but it was only a little one, and none of you could be bothered chasing the arachnid away.

While your colleagues kept on bickering, your own mind wandered off, drifting back towards the element that had caused all this to happen.

You remembered getting the letter at your office, opening it without worry, thinking it was merely linked to your research. You were expecting some documents for a field trip with your students after all.

Instead, you found a letter reading that if you didn't stop your surveys on whales, you would pay for the consequences of your actions. If the word 'killing' was not explicit, the meaning hiding behind their phrasing was evident, and whoever had sent you this letter was ready to use violent ends to shush your voice.

Clearly, whoever they were, they had never met you in person, or they would have known that threats would be far from enough to make you back down.

Nevertheless, Mark and Richard had decided that it was best to call professionals. Apparently, Richard had a friend in the security business, who had recommended the team he and Mark had hired. Why did they have to go to all the trouble to hire Americans, that was another mystery in this crazy story, but you simply accepted whoever they chose, as your complaints were dismissed.

You doubted heavily that anything would actually happen. You were a researcher, and none of your work was secret. If it had turned into a political stance over the past few years, it was still not a secret. All your colleagues in the lab knew about your research. You had asked for help from the press and a law firm when you realized that your research might have more impact that you had thought of on an international scale; yet, here again, you were not trying to keep any secret. What were they going to do? Destroy the entire university? If whaling held a lot of potential money, it was still no reason to make so much damage, at least, not in your mind.

When you started to investigate the migrations of whales in Antarctica, nothing could have made you think that you would come to discover that a Japanese research program was misused. If your accusation that it was merely a cover story for killing whales and selling their meat had always been denied by the Japanese authority, over the course of the past years, it had become your crusade to shut down the whole program. One could not, after all, excuse the killing of hundreds of animals and call it 'science', not in our day and age, at least.

You knew you had made enemies by taking a stand. You had never tried to hide your purpose. It didn't seem to you that it was a game people would play with death and threats. Maybe you were wrong, though.

And now you were up to get a bodyguard follow you everywhere. That was probably the most ridiculous position you had ever found yourself into.

Who would be your guardian angel though? Your mind started to play a game, trying to picture features and hair and clothes, and you found it funny to imagine a rather large sixty-year-old bald man wearing a cowboy hat and a heavy Texan accent as your protector for the coming weeks.

Just as you settled on an image, Richard was called by the reception as the four bodyguards had arrived. And when the four of them stepped into the room minutes later, Sofia gave you a look that meant I told you so.

And indeed, they were all wearing suits, which you imagined was not that comfortable considering it was a warm 27°C outside and quite humid after the strong rains of the day before.

And well, they were all pretty… attractive people, you guessed. As you introduced yourself to each of them, you kept on thinking about how much your two female colleagues would make your life annoying for the whole duration of this nonsense, gushing about their bodyguards.

Everyone took place around the circle of tables at the centre of the room. A little bit of small talk went on for a moment while they were all served coffee, about their flight, and their accommodation here in Townsville, but the man in charge, Steve, soon became more serious.

"We've started to research suspects, but for now I have to admit that we couldn't pinpoint any individual as being a threat in your direct acquaintances."

"To be completely honest, we highly doubt that it's coming from anyone we are close to," Richard answered.

"Not any colleagues, or a rival from another paper?"

"No, no one comes to mind. The only suspects for us would be someone linked to the whaling industry, as Dr. Y/L/N's research could have negative impact on their business, if we manage to give it a proper exposure."

"No one else is working on this project, you're all here?" Natasha asked, and you nodded.

"On the research side we are three active scientists on the project, plus our boss Richard. Luke here is our link with the press, and Mark his editor. Lucy and Joshua are advising us on legal issues."

"Why? Does your research break the law?" Bucky asked, lifting his eyes from the notebook where he had been taking notes.

"No, of course not. On the contrary, we think someone else is breaking the law."

"Our final goal is to bring the situation to an international court," Lucy added. "That's why we're helping them."

"And the two of you didn't receive any threat?"

"No, none."

"What about the police?" Sam inquired.

"They have no lead. They asked for the University to strengthen their security," Mark answered. "The investigation is still on-going, but for now they have nothing. And a simple letter is not enough for them to dispatch officers, which is why we called you."

"As we have discussed before, we have made arrangements to stay here for three months. We'll assess the situation again in a few weeks, to see if you would like to extend your contract or not."

Mark and Richard nodded in silent agreement.

"We're going to need to make an inspection of the facilities to determine which areas are the most dangerous. Same for your personal homes. We'll spend a couple of days adjusting to the situation. Do you all work in different buildings at the University?"

"No, all three of us share the same lab, and Sofia and Rosa have the same office, mine is next door to theirs," you answered. "But I teach, and the classes take place on the other side of the campus for the most part."

"Alright," Steve nodded, and he seemed to be thinking hard. "We're going to take a look around, and one of us will be assigned to each of you who has received direct threats. If you want, we can take a look at your workplace tomorrow as well, and give you a few advices on how to lower the risks," he added to the two lawyers, before focusing on the rest of the group again. "Ms. Romanov will be in charge of Mr. Savoy, Mr. Barnes and Wilson will protect Ms. Longbrook and Dr. Alvarez Santiago, and I'll be protecting you, Dr. Y/L/N. We're going to take a look at all the areas where you go here, in these facilities, and tonight we'll check your homes. We'll continue our investigation as well to find who has threatened you. Depending on how large the areas we have to cover are, we might have to use cameras as well."

"We'll show you around, if you want," Richard offered, and you were all soon leaving the meeting room.

Steve had already studied the map of the building, but he did find some interesting details that were worth writing down. Some areas difficult to see from afar, and other hidden corners. He would have thought that the lab would be a challenge, but it was tidy and ended up not being a problem at all. You showed him your office while Natasha was leaving for the newspaper headquarters, and Bucky and Sam were taking a look at your colleagues' office. Steve walked around, checked the windows and what was outside, looking for an angle from which a shooter could fire.

"It would be safer to move your desk a little closer to the door," he advised. "That way, there's no chance anyone outside can see you by the window."

"Okay," you nodded, hiding your annoyance, and helping him move your stuff around the room.

Luckily, none of the piles of files on your desk fell, and in a matter of minutes, Steve seemed satisfied.

You checked the time. It was quite late already, but you still had a couple of things to finish tonight, you hoped to keep on working at the office for a little longer.

Steve exited the room to talk with his colleagues for a moment, and when he came back, he asked you if you could stay at the office for a while, which matched your plans perfectly.

"I need to talk to the security on site, and take a look at the building where you give your classes. Please, don't go home without me, ma'am."

You gave him a smile.

"I was going to ask you if I could have more time before going home, I have still some work to do. And, please, call me Y/N. Anyway, you would have to call me doctor, not madam," you joked. "Let's keep it simple though."

Steve gave you a little, pinched smile, but shook his head.

"It wouldn't be very professional of me, doctor. I'll be back soon. Mr. Barnes will stay in the corridor, if you need anything."

"Alright, thank you then, sir."

He gave you a nod and exited the room, closing the door halfway behind him, probably so that his colleagues could keep an eye on you from the corridor.

You heaved a sigh and unlocked your laptop.

Of course, you had to fall on Mr. Serious out of all people, huh?

These were long, long three months awaiting you…

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

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