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helnjk · 3 years

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If I Could Tell Her - H.P.

Harry Potter x reader

this is my next installment of my showtunes fic list. this is based on the song If I Could Tell Her from the musical Dear Evan Hansen. this is also the first fic i’ve posted for harry on here !

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: nearly a year after the final battle, harry is still struggling to gain his bearings in the world. luckily she’s there to hold his hand along the way.

Warnings: mentions of food, & just a whole lot of mutual pining

lyrics are bolded & italicized

–

He just seemed so far away

Y/N took a deep breath.

With one foot in front of the other, she took a step and twisted to the right, feeling the familiar tightness that came with apparition. In the blink of an eye she found herself in front of the home that she and her friends had spent their summer before 5th year in.

She chose to skip the knock on the door, opting instead to just let herself in. Many changes had been made to the house since it was the Order headquarters. The biggest and most obvious one being Harry taking up permanent residence in it.

“Harry, love?” She called out, despite knowing that he would be where he always was.

“In here!” A disembodied voice replied, coming from towards the end of the house.

Like so many times before, Y/N found the dark haired boy in the kitchen. He was sat at the dining table, a few parchments spread messily in front of him and detailing the plans he had yet to accomplish for the renovations.

The war had taken a toll on Harry, it had taken a toll on everyone really, but no one could blame him for wanting some time by himself for a while. They all knew how much he deserved to rest and recover.

But now, nearly a year after the final battle, Harry found himself less and less willing to venture out into the world again. It was as if everyone had started moving on and making progress with their lives without him. And in some ways, they were, but he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he was able to live a life without the looming threat of war on his shoulders.

Instead, he focused his attention on the house left to him by his late godfather, and vowed to make a home in it.

While most people left him to his own devices, Y/N knew that he craved companionship most days. Having been friends with him from the moment she stepped into the train compartment nearly eight years ago, she understood him more than most. So began the habit of popping by every so often to have a cup of tea and a chat.

“Been hard at work, have you?” She smiled, taking a seat across from him.

“Just trying to figure out what to do with the drawing room on the second floor,” He said and she noticed how his brows furrowed ever so slightly at the puzzle in front of him.

“You mean the problem you’ve been ‘figuring out’” She used her fingers to make quotation marks, “For the last three weeks?”

Harry didn’t answer, but she noticed him roll his eyes playfully. Y/N knew that this meant he was in a relatively good mood today, and he could take the barrage of news from the outside world that she had brought with her.

So, she took a seat across from him and began her recount of the stories she heard throughout the week.

“So Bill and Fleur announced that they’re having a baby,” She began.

–

The pair of them continued on with their regular routine, Harry would busy himself with his plans for Grimmauld Place while Y/N brought him up to date with the events of the outside world. Every so often, he would risk a glance up at her and the edges of her lips would curl up in a smile.

It was during these moments that Y/N always had to pause. It only took one look from Harry for her to become a puddle of unexplainable emotions. During the war, when they had gone on their horcrux hunt, there wasn’t any time to dwell on these things. Survival was always the top priority. But now, now she had months and months of these little interactions and her heart was finding it hard to ignore.

She often found herself shaking her head and trying to clear her daydreams of the two of them. Too often she would fall asleep to images of her and Harry going on dates and pressing soft kisses on each other’s lips. But she knew in her heart that that was all they were, daydreams and fantasies.

Harry needed her as a friend, and she could give him that.

As the afternoon wore on, she remembered the main reason for her visit that day.

Harry was in the process of clearing up the cluttered table and she took the opportunity to bring it up, “So there’s going to be lunch at the Burrow this Sunday.”

His movements paused. She continued, “And I was hoping that you would come with me. Molly always has loads of food and I’m sure you’d enjoy it more if it were fresh and not leftovers like I usually bring over.”

There was another lull in the air.

Y/N opened her mouth to try and convince him further but he cut her off, “Sure.”

“What?”

His eyes met hers and he gave her a small smile, “I reckon it’s been too long since I’ve last had Molly’s amazing cooking.”

A slow smile stretched across Y/N’s face. This was the most he had agreed to in nearly a year and she was hopeful about slowly reintroducing his loved ones back into his life.

“Perfect.”

There's nothing like your smile

Sort of subtle and perfect and real

The Burrow hadn’t changed much since Harry last saw it.

The peculiar house still stood tall and proud in the Devon landscape, held together undoubtedly by magic. The smoke billowing from its chimney reminded him of cozy Christmases spent together with everyone he held close to his heart, and the lively chatter filtering through the open windows made his heart stutter in anticipation.

Y/N took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. Her smile was gentle, letting him know that she was there if he needed it. He could tell that she was nervous too, not for herself, but for how he would react to being surrounded by so many people again after so long.

He couldn’t tell how he knew, he just saw it in the way she smiled. But he was grateful for it, because without her steady grasp on his hand, he probably would have disapparated before he even got through the threshold of the place he used to call a second home.

“Come on then,” She urged, beginning to take steps towards the entrance, “Let’s see who’s already here!”

“Oh Y/N, you made it!” Molly’s voice exclaimed as they entered the home, “I was wondering when you’d get here–”

The Weasley family matriarch paused at the door between the kitchen and the living room, her eyes set upon the boy she considered her son.

“I can’t say no to a gorgeous meal of yours can I, Molly?” She joked, slightly tugging on Harry’s hand to bring him into the room, “And I brought a guest with me today.”

Molly seemed to gain her bearings once again as a radiant smile crossed her face, she knew not to make too much of a fuss about Harry being over after months of hiding away. Instead, she simply patted his cheek, “Lovely to see you again, Harry dear. Now come on, there’s enough food to go around!”

The kitchen of the Burrow was alive with conversation. Most of the Weasleys and their significant others were gathered around the magically enlarged table, chatting over steaming dishes of wonderful smelling food.

Their entrance garnered many beaming smiles, but everyone knew not to pay them too much attention. Harry chose to take a seat next to Ron, who nudged him with a small smile on his face. He returned the gesture, already feeling more at ease. Since his hand was still connected with hers, Y/N chose to take the seat right next to him.

Throughout the meal, Harry hadn’t spoken much, only nodding to whatever the person he was in conversation with said or sometimes adding a little quip here and there. He took comfort in Y/N’s steady presence beside him, once in a while squeezing his thigh or patting his arm.

“–and he wouldn’t tell me how to turn it back to normal!”

Ron’s particular way of storytelling brought him out of his stupor. He was in the middle of an exciting story on the twins’ latest prank on him, and Y/N had let out a snort of laughter.

Harry’s heart seemed to stop as he watched her and he couldn’t take his eyes off her as he noticed the smile on her face. Of course he knew that she was beautiful, it was something so obvious to him as they grew up together. But there was something in the way her smile lit up her face at that moment.

It was like a breath of fresh air after being underwater for too long. To him, her smile was refreshing, invigorating, and all-consuming. Harry looked at Y/N and felt as if he could never get enough of her. A spark ignited in him and suddenly he was determined to keep her in his life as long as possible.

Y/N caught onto his stare as her laughter tapered off and she raised an eyebrow, “Everything alright?”

As quickly as it had come, the spell she had on him vanished as he nodded, “Yep. Brilliant.”

The conversation flowed around them, merry laughter filling the air once again from different areas of the room, but Harry only had eyes for Y/N.

But he kept it all inside his head

What he thought he left unsaid

“Y/N-” He cut her off.

Her eyes darted to him confused. He could feel his pulse in his neck and blood rushed to his ears. Suddenly he couldn’t help but wring his hands together nervously, unable to explain his actions.

“Yeah, Harry?” She asked, fully turning her body to face him, “You okay?”

“I’m brilliant,” He mumbled, heart pounding in his chest, “I just have something I want to tell you.”

Anxiety bubbled in his chest and up his throat as the words came out of his mouth. He hadn’t even planned on telling her anything as she arrived that day, yet here he was. She just looked so beautiful, the soft candlelight almost glowing on her skin and highlighting her features. Harry was sure he had never felt more in love with her than he was in that moment, and she hadn't even been doing anything.

Her eyes shined with concern and her attention was fully on him now. He hadn’t been known to interrupt her when she went on her long spiels of updates. Sensing his nervousness, Y/N placed a reassuring hand on his arm.

Unbeknownst to him, her own heart pounded in her chest. Against better judgement, she had imagined a scenario exactly like this wherein Harry would spontaneously profess his undying love for her too many times. And secretly, she hoped that this would be the moment her daydreams would come true, nearly holding her breath in anticipation.

It wasn’t.

“I’m thinking about asking McGonagall about how I can become a professor.”

It took Y/N a few seconds of blinking at him to completely process what he had just said. Despite the slight twinge of disappointment in her chest, she knew that this was such a big step for him that she couldn’t feel bad about it.

“Oh love that’s wonderful!” She nearly yelled, throwing her hands up and wrapping them around him, “You were such a good teacher in fifth year, I know you’ll do great!”

A soft blush formed on his cheeks at her praise, but he happily accepted the hug, “Thank you. I figured it’s about time I started focusing on myself and what I want to do, instead of just this damn house. Being a teacher just feels right.”

Despite all appearances, Harry berated himself silently. He had completely chickened out. Of course, he really had been thinking about sending an owl to his old head of house, but that was not what he planned on saying at all.

He didn’t know what happened. His mouth just blurted out the first thing that came to mind, but he couldn’t take it back now. The moment was ruined.

If I could tell her

Tell her everything I see

If I could tell her

How she’s everything to me

Y/N could tell Harry was nervous.

He was hosting a dinner at Grimmauld Place with the Weasleys and a few of his friends from school to announce his plans to get accredited to be a professor. He also wanted to show them how the renovations of the house had been going. She had arrived at his place early, as she always had, to help him prepare but he was a bundle of nerves and couldn’t sit still.

So, she did what she always does whenever he got into a little bit of a panic. As plates and cutlery floated to their designated places and the table set itself, Y/N kept the conversation flowing. Although, it might have been more of a monologue with the way he was only responding to her in hums or soft grunts.

She was unaware of the inner turmoil raging in Harry. He had decided that he would finally tell her exactly what he felt about her. To hell if she didn’t feel the same, he thought recklessly, as long as he got to finally tell her what he had been feeling for nearly a year.

During a lull, he finally plucked up enough courage to speak.

“Listen Y/N–”

“Harry–”

The pair stared at each other, amused. This had always happened to them when they were still in school, as if their wavelengths were always on the same page.

“You go ahead, Haz.” She smiled at him.

He took a deep breath, “Alright.”

Plucking up whatever was left of his Gryffindor courage, he turned to face her, a fierce sort of determination in his eyes.

“I love you, Y/N.” He spoke clearly despite the ball of uncertainty in his chest.

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, her eyes shining with something he couldn’t place. He stopped her, though, placing a hand on her arm, “Just let me get this off my chest, alright? Then you can say what you want to say.”

She nodded.

“Looking back at what my life’s been like this past year, and honestly the years we spent at Hogwarts too, you were the only constant thing I had. And I’m sorry that it’s taken so long for me to figure out what I was feeling, especially when you were being so patient with me. But, yeah, I-I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

For once in her life, she was left speechless. In all of her daydreams, Y/N always had a witty quip up her sleeve after Harry confessed his feelings, but now they seemed to just escape her.

“I love you too,” Was all she could choke out, a small laugh tumbling out of her lips.

The two shared a dopey smile as their bodies gravitated towards each other. Their lips met in a soft kiss, with a certain slowness attached to the relief and exhalation that came from their confession. Y/N couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, arms slowly snaking around his neck, as Harry pecked her lips over and over.

A soft ‘oh’ echoed through the silent room and the pair of them broke apart. Molly Weasley was stood at the door, holding a roast in her hands and blinking furiously at what she had just witnessed. Behind her, most of the Weasley clan stood eyes slightly widened and small smirks on their lips.

Ron was the first to speak up, “It’s about bloody time.”

As he spoke, the silent spell cast over the lot of them was broken. Hermione rolled her eyes at the lack of tact her boyfriend had, but she was secretly thrilled.

“Well, now that that’s finally settled, I think it’s time for dinner!” Molly bustled in, looking for a place to put her food down and the rest of them clambered through the door.

Harry spared an embarrassed glance at Y/N, but she was grinning from ear to ear. He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze before going to help set up.

#kai's showtunes fics #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter fics #harry potter fic #harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #tw food #tw food mention

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janeofcakes · 4 years

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Keep Your Friends Close and Your Enemies Ten Feet from the Pack: Chapter 6

Sorry, y’all, but this is a short one. The next is a longer one though, so there’s that to look forward to. If I can get it edited any faster, maybe I’ll post it before next weekend to make up for the length of this one.

I love you all and hope this brings you a quiet, all be it short, respite.

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But someone was waiting in the shadows of the night. Someone was waiting. It just didn’t feel right. Danger on the track. Something told me there were strangers on my back and I was so right. --Europe, Danger on the Track

Eight bouts later, four of which were John’s first away experiences, and he really does see the similarities between derby and hockey. The schedule is just as intense and punishing. Limbs need to be iced, soaked and stretched post-bout just like hockey. It makes for some truly long nights, especially when the team travels. There are nights when he has never been more happy to collapse into a hotel bed in his life.

He finds himself wishing he could do just that after a long day at the stadium, but in his own bed, of course. It was just a normal day of practice and the like, no bouts, but it was still busier than usual and John did not make it out of the building until far later than he had planned. John feels drained and drowsy as he drives to Ford Hospital for his typical Wednesday and Sunday visits to Molly. He tries to go more often, being her doctor and all, but bouts and intensified practices make it difficult. Fortunately, Mike is always there to keep an eye on her. John has no idea what kind of case forces Mike to be at Ford all the time, but he is grateful for the help with Molly’s care.

She had woken the night following the bout, just as John had said. It was clear the poison had taken its toll because she was disoriented and unable to coordinate her muscles enough to move much. She had started to panic when she tried moving and could not, her heart rate skyrocketing. It would have been worse had Sherlock not been there. He held her hand to ground her and explained the situation carefully, leaving nothing out. He repeated it the subsequent three nights and again on the fourth when she could finally both comprehend and retain the information. On that night, Molly was coherent enough to ask questions and she tried to answer all of Sherlock’s. He told her their theories on how the poison was administered and when - right before she got on the track, during the jam, or just after the collision. It could have been nothing less than a puncture, but Molly did not recall feeling any such thing.

John and Sherlock had discussed it after Molly was resting again. The coach was convinced one of Moriarty’s skaters had done it under his orders. Even when John reminded him of all the people helping Molly off the track, each one having opportunity, Sherlock would not entertain any other possibility. It was all John could do to keep the man from going directly to the Demons’ stadium and accusing Moriarty face to face. John had heard a lot of stories about the rivalry, HardOn having told the majority and quite colorfully too, but John still did not know how it all started. It ran deep on both sides though, that much was obvious.

With all of these thoughts playing out in his mind, John pulls into the hospital lot and parks. He sits for a moment, considering it all carefully. Perhaps Molly would tell him more if he asked. She would certainly be a more accurate source than HardOn, but would asking her be an invasion of Sherlock’s privacy? He inhales deliberately and turns off the car, shaking his head as he does so, his decision already made. If he wants to know how the two men became so antagonistic toward one another, he should ask Sherlock himself.

Moments later, John is out of his car and walking into Ford Hospital. He boards the elevator and then emerges on the third floor. Soon he is smiling at the two floor nurses on night duty as he approaches the station.

“Hello, Madge,” he greets brightly. “Bianca. How’s our patient tonight?”

“Much better, John,” Bianca answers with a matching smile. “She’s done more today than any other.”

“Good! That’s good.”

“Awfully tired now though,” Madge continues, ”but she’s trying so hard to stay awake. She wants to see you.”

“Well, I’ll just go see if she’s still up, shall I?” he gives them a nod and goes to Molly’s room. Knocking on the door lightly, John leans in to listen for her to grant entrance and a man’s voice comes to his ears instead. He sounds angry. John shoves the door open in a rush of protective fury to see nothing but Molly sleeping soundly in her bed. He stands for a moment, brow furrowed in confusion. At the sound of a familiar and measured female voice, his eyes drift up and to the side to see a television set mounted from the ceiling, Angela Lansbury on its screen. John smiles and closes the door. He walks to Molly’s bedside, carefully pulls the remote from her fingers and presses the power button.

“Of course you’d be a fan of Murder, She Wrote,” he whispers, looking at Molly fondly. “I heard you’re doing much better today. I’ve never had a better patient, you know.”

He looks down at her hand again and gently takes it in his own, watching as one of her fingers twitches. He glances to the other and something held in her fingers catches his eye.

“Hello, what’s this?”

John slides the folded piece of paper out from beneath her index and middle fingers. His name is written on it, so he unfolds and reads. He looks back at Molly with wide, startled eyes and a million questions race through his mind. As much as he wants to ask her every single one and now, he is not about to wake her. She needs to rest and recover.

Folding the note and putting it in his jacket pocket, John pats Molly’s hand and whispers good night. He bids the nurses farewell and hurries out to his car again. He turns right out of the lot, the opposite direction of his flat, but exactly the way to Sherlock’s. However, he has only gone a few blocks before thinking better of it. What the hell is he doing? It is ten o’clock at night after a long day. If Sherlock is not in bed already, he will be soon, certainly before John gets there. As important as Molly’s note is, it will keep until morning.

That decided, and coming to his senses, John turns into a gas station parking lot and turns the car around. In minutes, he has parked in the designated spot at his building and is riding in the lift. He usually takes the stairs, but suddenly feels all of the day’s events pressing down on him in full force. John trudges to his door and unlocks it, throwing off his coat as soon as he is inside. He goes to the kitchen, lifting the jumper over his head as he goes and tossing it on the counter. He scratches his chest through the white t-shirt he wears with one hand and opens the refrigerator door with the other. John takes out a carton of orange juice and reaches for a cupboard handle before stopping.

“Oh, fuck it,” he says to himself, opening the carton and taking a long drink straight from the spout. He looks at the brightly colored oranges on the side and sighs. Sometimes he truly believes it is the most refreshing beverage on the planet, second to none.

John sets the carton on the counter and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He picks up the remote and points it over the breakfast bar into the living room. The telly springs to life with the faces of the evening news. John does not pay much attention to the local anchors and heads down the hall to his bedroom where he kicks off his shoes and pulls down his trousers, leaving them bunched on the floor as he continues walking.

Sauntering back to the kitchen in nothing but a tee and plaid boxer shorts, John stands by the bar and takes another swig of orange juice. Shannon Duffy, the meteorologist is detailing the coming of an unseasonable cold front and John watches, but his mind is elsewhere. He feels like he should call Sherlock, in spite of the hour. He does not know why, but John feels as though something depends on it. What, he doesn’t know because Molly is just fine and sleeping comfortably in her room.

Giving into the notion, John picks up his mobile only to have it violently knocked from his grasp. An arm wraps around his neck and the barrel of a gun thrusts into his kidneys painfully. He gasps and time stops as the arm presses hard into his throat. He feels a warm breath in the shell of his ear and then a voice, dark and low.

“I would’ve let you go all the way. Wouldn’t mind seeing what’s under that shirt one bit,” it threatens in a hoarse whisper. The gun moves down his spine, bruising as it goes, until it rests at the top of his buttocks. The tip of the barrel catches on the waistband of his boxers and pushes them down an inch, digging into the top of one cheek painfully. An inhalation pulls air over John’s ear and a humid breath blows back out. He flinches his head away a touch, but the voice is still in his ear. “But you’re late and I have a schedule to keep.”

John blinks his eyes wide and sucks in a sharp breath. He knows what is about to happen. He squeezes his eyes shut for a split second and braces his hands on the counter before him. John suddenly pushes himself back and into the man, throwing them both backward into the opposite counter. He feels a surprised puff of breath by his ear and a sharp pain in the side of his hip. John pulls free from the man and launches himself over the bar, just missing the stools and landing hard on the floor. He jumps up, in spite of the pain, and runs down the hall to his room, hearing a quiet chirp and feeling a whoosh of air at his cheek. He slams the door behind and locks it. Without stopping for a second, John runs for the window, throws it open and leaps out onto the fire escape. John doesn’t hear a shot, but the doorknob flies into the room and the door is kicked open. John puts a hand on either side of the ladder and slides down to the next landing. He steps quickly to the next ladder, knowing he only has the second or two it will take his attacker to cross the bedroom floor before more bullets come.

Without looking up, John slides down to the ground and ducks into the shadows of the alley in between his building and the next. He hears heavy footsteps on the fire escape that rumble down the ladders and land not far from him. He tucks farther into the darkness and holds his breath. He can see his attacker clearly now, head to toe in black with a mask over his face. Only his eyes and mouth are visible and he wears such a sneer as John has ever seen.

John watches as the man searches the alley. He comes very close to John, who is in near panic and trying not to move or even breathe, when the man suddenly curses and turns away. He jogs down the alley in the opposite direction and is gone. John waits, not daring to make even the slightest noise. For the second time that night, a thousand questions run through his mind at breakneck speed. How will he know the man is really gone? Will he reappear if John comes out of hiding? Who is this guy and what does he want? Just what the hell is John going to do now? He can’t go back to his flat, even if the man is unlikely to pay him another visit. Or would he go back into the flat and wait for John to return? John suddenly gasps audibly and his blood runs cold. Pay him a visit. Suppose that man pays someone else a visit. A person he thinks John might go to for help.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” John whispers into the silent alley. He glances this way and that and pops out of the shadows, hurrying to the parking lot. He ducks down next to his car and pulls a spare key from where he had secured it after he bought it. An old trick his father taught him back in the day. John has never actually lost his keys, but his dad often did and needed a little extra insurance.

When John rises as high as he dares to look around for any sign of the man, he unlocks the door quickly and climbs in. Starting the car and backing out of his spot, he turns and heads to the very place he had talked himself out of going only moments before. The flat belonging to Sherlock Holmes.

----

Holy shit, Jane! Again! You all knew John would be a target after what happened with Billy, but Sherlock could get caught up in this too. Or worse, used as bait or leverage! Oh dear, oh dear, what awaits at Sherlock’s condo?? Only time and the next chapter will tell. Until then, my friends. Stay safe. Stay healthy.

@zentris @toooldforthissh-stuff @shana-movershaker @ melmey-fanfics @louise175dk @221b-carefulwhatyouwishfor @technicallywiseoncns @underestimatemethatwillbefun @jhamishw @weirdlittlegoofball @superwholockpotterincamelot @superwholocklmt @ladidragonuniverse @kittenmadnessandtea @srebrnafh @welcometomyharddrive @annecumberbatch @kingdomofbrokenhearts @philliphooper @whodwantmeasaflatmate @gloriascott93 @vvaticancameoss @cow-mow @echosilverwolf @spazzz32 @absentmindedstuff @swissmissing @shuukichan @maeliandmyself @wtgilsa @thetranslucentwallaby @red-pen-revolution @britishaccentfan @dischorde @plasticstrawsmuggler @youknowyougrow

#Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock #sherlockholmes #sherlock fanfic #john watson #johnwatson #johnlock #Johnlock fanfic #sherlock roller derby #sherlock au

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blueoswin · 5 years

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La lune à 3h du mat

Summary :When he was little, around three years old, Lucas watched, fascinated, his mother writing diligently in a little notebook, humming contently,a peaceful smile on her face Only years later did he stumbled upon the new addition in the notebook. “ I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand why storms are named after people” He hadn't fully comprehend it at the time but it felt important somehow. The quote comes to his mind now, caught in an argument with Eliott, in their tiny apartment,the summer heat clinging to their skin along with their frustration

. Lucas jolts awake, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, only then he hears the noise of his annoying ringtone. Still in a daze he answers.

“ Lucas baaabyyyyy I miss youuuuu!”

Or : Lucas and Eliott got into a fight and Eliott drunk calls him.

"I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand why storms are named after people"

When he was little, around three years old, Lucas watched, fascinated, his mother writing diligently in a little notebook, humming contently,a peaceful smile on her face. She looked so close yet so out of reach in moments like this,the setting sun shining on her blond hair, casting a golden halo around her. Years later, his curiosity getting the best of him, he opened that notebook. He didn't know how to read but little Lucas wasn't dumb. He could recognise beautiful words when he saw them. After all he was a grown up now, 5 years old are almost adults. Yann told him ! But it didn't stop the feeling of guilt expanding in his chest when his mom caught him, standing up on a chair to reach the desk, notebook open to a random page in front of him. However, his mom didn't scold him like he had expected ( he had already been making up apologies in his head), no his mom only let out a little huff, sparks of amusement dancing in her eyes as she watched the scene unfold from where she stood, leaning on the doorframe. He had watched her come closer, eyes round, heart thumping loudly in his chest. She ran a soft hand through his hair, taking his little body in her arms before sitting on the chair Lucas was previously standing on. Sitting on his lap, he was mesmerized by the sight of her long fingers caressing the thick paper of the notebook.

“You chose a good page darling”

She smiled at him proudly, adoration shining in her eyes, one hand still running in his hair. Lucas was happy, laying his head on his mom chest, listening to her heart beat steadily, her soft voice washing over him in a soothing wave.

“Do you want to know what is written in that notebook?”

He nodded eagerly, his curiosity peaking once again, his little legs kicking a bit in excitement. His mom chuckled at his antics.

“Look love” She put the notebook on his lap, the weight of it making him keep his legs still. Her hand went to cover his. “ I write words or phrases I love in it, memories, quotes, lyrics... Words are beautiful baby remember that. Letters upon letters assembled together to form words, once again put together to form sentences destined to make you feel. There is nothing purer than words.” Seeing Lucas was still listening intently, looking up at her with wonder, she goes on, smiling. “Do you want me to read you some of those quotes?” Lucas nodded again, not able to talk, fearful the magical moment would stop otherwise when his only wish was that his mom keep speaking, he wanted to hear her stories.

She took his fingers in hers, putting it under a written line. His mom had a beautiful handwriting, cursive intricate letters joined by graceful loops. She leant her head on his shoulders, whispering soflty in his ear, her breath tickling him,making a giggle escape him from time to time .

“We live in a rainbow of chaos. This one was written by Paul Cezanne, a famous painter.”

She looked over the pages, selecting the quotes that spoke to her the most in this moment.

“I like this one : “ Every story ever told really happened. Stories are where memories go when they are forgotten”

Lucas gasped, stars in his eyes.

“So fairytales are true? Princess Anastasia is real?”

His mom chuckled, amused.

“Well, yes she is. Just because you can't see her it doesn't mean she doesn't exist. I'm sure she is living her life happily ever after somewhere in the world.”

“So mermaids exist? What about dragons? Knights and wizards? Princesses, elves and talking animals? “

“Yes, they exist baby. As long as they live in your heart they are alive somewhere”

Lucas's mouth went slack in astonishment, not quite processing this new piece of information yet. His mom chuckled fondly.

“Do you want to hear another quote?”

How could he say no? He had a whole new world to discover in front of him. So the night went on like this, way past his bedtime, his mom reading quotes upon quotes to him until he fell asleep on her lap. Every night for the next months, they would sit at the desk, his mom teaching him how to read bit by bit, until he was able to read the quotes to her out loud, and then in his head when he read the notebook alone.

He was alone when he stumbled upon the new addition in the notebook. “ I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand why storms are named after people” He hadn't fully comprehend it at the time. But it felt important somehow, so he read it again and again until it was imprinted in his mind.

He was 15 when his dad left them. He understood the quote better now, as he watched his parents marriage fall apart until there was nothing left but shreds. The quote resonated even more with him when his mom starting drifting away and he couldn't do anything to help her. He was 16 when his dad sent his mom away in a clinic, under the pretext that she was unstable, it was the worst day of his life. He was also 16 when he moved out of the now empty house, too big for him alone to join the coloc. Sixteen and no parents in sight would have been a fucking dream for a lot of teenagers. Not for him. He was scared and lonely and confused and he missed his mom and he was terrified of the future. He was 17 when he met Eliott and his fear of the unknown no longer left him paralyzed in fright. It was still there, but it was easily forgotten with Eliott by his side.

He's 18 now, living with the love of his life, who is doing amazing in college when the fear comes back stronger than ever. He is rummaging through boxes left unopened in the back of their closet from when he moved in. His hands stumble across a hard cover. He takes it out of the box, sitting on the wooden floor with The notebook on his lap, as if he was still a little child. He brushes the deep purple coloured cover, not believing his eyes. He doesn't even remember taking the notebook with him when he left the house. He should give it back to his mom the next time he'll visit. And all of the sudden he remembers all the quotes his mom wrote in that book. Every single one. Especially the one he learned by heart. That's how his fear comes back. Because of a fucking quote that shook him to his core when he was younger, long before he could even grasp its meaning.

Eliott is not home, not yet. He's been working on a project consuming all his time lately. Lucas is left alone in the apartment almost every nights now, eating alone, falling asleep alone, Eliott coming back in the middle of the night, exhausted, waking up early only to be gone when Lucas wakes up. So loneliness strikes once again, he misses Eliott, not having spent time with his boyfriend for too long has taken a toll on him. It's Sunday afternoon and he promised Lucas he would be there so they could spend some time together. Lucas is already frustrated enough after a talk with the man who has the audacity to call himself his father, and Eliott is not here. One look at the clock on the wall indicates it is nearing four. Eliott promised when he left this morning that he would be done by two. And his calls are left unanswered ! Lucas is worried, tapping his phone in his hand while pacing the living room, stopping sometimes to look through the window in hope to see his boyfriend finally come home. He is this close to calling Idriss when the sound of the lock startles him. Lucas rushes to the door, hugging Eliott to death as soon as the door opens. He feels his body stiffen in surprise underneath him before strong arms tug him closer by the waist. After long minutes , they go back inside the flat, Lucas relief leaving him to be replaced by a dull annoyance. Eliott looks exhausted, dark bags under his eyes, his cheekbones even more prominent, a ghost is would look tanned in comparison. Lucas keeps him close, worried Eliott might faint if he takes a step back. He cradles his face in his palm, running his thumb over the growing stubble on his chin.

“What happened? Where were you? Why is your phone dead?” He asks in a worried tone.

Eliott only sighs, nuzzling in his hand.

“I was at Lucy's” Lucas only gives him a quizzical face. “ The girl I was partnered with for the project.” He heads toward the kitchen, looking into the fridge to find something to eat, Lucas follows him diligently.

“Okay, but why didn't you answer my call?”

“I ran out of battery.”

Lucas frowns, not really believing Eliott's evasive answers.

“Doesn't Lucy have a charger you could borrow?”

“I didn't think about it” Eliott feels himself getting increasingly annoyed. “ Can we not do this now? I'm tired and hungry.”

“Well you wouldn't be if you had come home earlier to eat." The tension around them build up. " I was waiting for you, you know. It's the only thing I seem to be doing these days.” He utters the last part under his breath, hoping Eliott wouldn't hear him. The universe is against him it seems. Eliott stands up, closing the fridge.

“Sorry what did you say?”

“Nothing.” Lucas looks up at the ceiling. Perhaps if he stares long enough they will drop the topic. Perhaps.

“No you said something and I'm afraid I didn't understand.”

Eliott comes closer, at arm's reach. Lucas scoffs, he brought this on himself no need to put his head in the sand now.He inhales, pinching the bridge of his nose, his foot tapping rhythmically against the wooden floor.

“Okay you want to know? I said that the only thing I do lately is wait for you. Wait for you to reply to my text, wait for you to come home, wait for you to even acknowledge my existence.” He huffs, crossing his arms.

Eliott blinks owlishly, not quite understanding.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me damn well Eliott.It feels like I don't even have a boyfriend anymore.”

He regrets that sentence as soon as it leaves his mouth. Seeing the betrayed look on Eliott's face makes him feel even worse.

“Do you know how unfair that statement is? I'm working my ass off to pass my exams! And I miss you too Lucas, so fucking much it hurts! I'm sorry for spending so much time away from you. It's only the matter of a few weeks!

Lucas only rolls his eyes

“Pff, you already said that two weeks ago Eliott. And today you promised you would come back early but you didn't.”

“So that's what it is about? Me coming home late? Are you doubting me Lucas? “

“Of course Eliott! I was fucking worried about you!”

“Because you think I can't handle myself?”

Lucas mulls over his next sentences.

“Absolutely not. Because you're not the type to break a promise and something could have happened to you, that's why. Sorry for caring about you! It would be easier if you answered your fucking phone you know.”

“So now I have to answer every time you text? You are not my mom Lucas I don't owe you anything”

Lucas tried to calm the situation but Eliott is being childish, he might as well let it all out.

“I don't ask for much, just one fucking text to tell me you're okay!”

“Damn it I can't believe it." Eliott paces around the kitchen counter, running a hand in his untamed hair, making wild gestures with his free arm as he speaks. "I can't believe it! You're just like Lucille. Why are you so fucking clingy?”

Lucas opens and closes his mouth like a goldfish, unable to speak, too hurt by Eliott's word. This went too far. When he speaks again, his voice is shaky, trying to calm down.

“Sorry for caring about you Eliott. Sorry for loving you.” The words are whispered, their weight heavy between them.

“Luc I'm...”

“Don't” Lucas raises his hand to stop Eliott from coming closer. He swallows back the lump in his throat. “If I speak I'm going to say something I will regret later, so for now I am going to the bedroom. Don't follow me, I don't want to see you right now.”

Lucas turns around, wiping away the falling tears as he sits on the bed, hugging his legs with his arms, screaming his frustration in a pillow. Hours have gone by, he went through his mom's notebook again in an attempt to calm himself. It worked for some time, until he heard noise in the apartment, reminding him that Eliott was here and he was the reason he was crying in the first place. It didn't work anymore afterwards. His heart aches, his body feels heavy, his mind is fuzzy from crying so much. Lucas needs to get out of here. He can't be around Eliott for now, it's too much for him. His decision made, he grabs the duffle bag hidden in the back of the closet, putting clothes at random in it, not really caring about what he's taking with him. He can always come back another day since Eliott is so busy.

Lucas opens the door, almost colliding with Eliott in the process. The latter was behind the door, his fist still hanging in the air in a failed attempt to knock at the door. He looks miserable, like a reprimanded puppy but Lucas doesn't care enough in this moment to feel guilty.

“What the fuck Eliott? I told you I wanted to be left alone!”

He goes to the living room, checking for something he might have forgotten, such as his phone on the piano. He knows Eliott is following him, with more distance between them than usual but he is trailing behind.

“Where are you going?” He asks in a daze, his eyes not leaving the bag in Lucas's hand.

“I can't stay here for now, I'm crashing at the coloc tonight, and maybe for the next week. I need time apart from you.”

“So you just leave instead of talking it out? Very mature of you Lucas. Fantastic.” Eliott applauses mockingly

“ Eliott please stop, don't make the situation worse”

“I'm not the one running away.” He bites his nails, looking everywhere apart from Lucas.

“But you are being childish and petty.”

“Right. You're the one who started this remember? Just pack your things and go since that's what you want." Eliott turns his back on him. "You think I need you Lucas?”

His mom told him there was nothing purer than words, there is nothing as vicious either. Words cut deeper than a knife, Lucas is starting to realize that.

"I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when I leave you will finally understand why storms are named after people"

The quote comes to his mind now, caught in an argument with Eliott, in their tiny apartment,the summer heat clinging to their skin along with their frustration

Eliott is pacing like a wild animal in a cage in the living room, pulling his hair out by the roots, venom dripping from his mouth. He is a storm, has always been, ever since Lucas met him he was swept up off his feet, swirling in the wind, breath always knocked out of him. The eye of a storm is the safest place to ever exist so they say. Unfortunately Lucas left the peaceful eye to throw himself in the roaring thunder as soon as Eliott came home. Hearing the poisonous words hurts him more than he thought was ever possible, especially because the truth dawns on him : Eliott has left him. Right here, right now, in their shared apartment, he is physically here, but his heart no longer belongs to Lucas. So he leaves, with a watery “ Goodbye Eliott” he is sure the other one didn’t hear, shutting the door a bit too loudly behind him.

Passersby stares at him, concerned looks on their faces. Lucas doesn’t care, too caught up in his head to control his body’s reactions. He doesn’t know the road he’s taken to arrive at the coloc, his body acting on autopilot. When he knocks on the door, he watches Mika’s smile fall off his face as he takes him in, pulling him gently into the flat, engulfing him into a giant hug when the door closes. Lucas lets himself be hugged, too stunned to return the warm embrace. Only then he bursts into tears.

“Lucas answer your goddamn phone I need my beauty sleep!” Mika screams from somewhere in the coloc.

He jolts awake, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, stretching his back, aching from sleeping on the couch for a week. Only then he hears the noise of his annoying ringtone. Still in a daze he answers, wondering who could call him at three in the morning.

“ Lucas baaabyyyyy I miss youuuuu!” He winces at the loud voice, putting the phone away from his ear.He hears a giggle in the background, covered by loud music.

“Eliott? Where are you?” He straightens up in the makeshift bed.

“Don't know” He hiccups. “ Why do you care?”

His words are slurred, making it hard for Lucas to understand him completely.

“How much did you drink? Is there anyone with you?”

A moment of silence passes where he puts the phone away from his ear to check the line isn't dead.

“Sofiane...” A hiccup.” And Idriss were there but I lost them.” Another hiccup. “They are gone.” Lucas frowns. Is Eliott sniffling? He internally curses his friends for leaving Eliott alone in this state.

“Baby can you send me your location? I'm coming to get you home.”

“Noooooo I don't want to go home if you aren't going with me.” Eliott utters between sobs, if he wasn't crying before he sure is now..

Lucas can feel his heart beating in staccato in his chest, he has to get Eliott home safe. He wouldn't forgive himself if he didn't.

“I'll go home with you.” He says softly, the ghost of a smile grazing his lips.

“Promise me?” The sniffling has died down a bit.

“I promise.”

Lucas can almost see Eliott nods. The line is again silent for a few minutes before a feeble okay can be heard. He hears his phone pings with a text right away.

“Don't move Eliott I'm going to get you”

Lucas hangs up, throwing hastily on the first pair of jeans he can find, almost losing balance when he puts on his shoes. Grabbing his keys, he bolts out of the coloc into the chilly night.

Thirty minutes later, Lucas finds himself looking at his phone, squinting his eyes against the bright light to double check the location Eliott sent him. The garden of the house he is standing in front of is lit up by fairy lights, scattered on the grass or tangles in tree branches. His heart is pounding along with the rhythm of the loud basses sounds. There are a few people chatting in the front yard, drunken laughs echoing in the silent, someone is vomiting near a tree. Lucas inhales, in hope it will give him some sort of courage to find Eliott. He pushes past grinding bodies, the mixed scents of spilt alcohol, sweat and the lingering heat makes him dizzy.

Eliott is nowhere to be seen. He is on the verge of giving up when he catches a glimpse of a golden brown mop of hair standing in the kitchen, hands behind his back, resting on the counter. His heart soars in relief, at least he's found him, he is safe. Lucas slowly approaches, coming to a halt when he takes in the sight in front of him. Eliott is indeed safe, it looks like he's having the time of his life even, head thrown back in laughter, a pretty girl looking at him with hunger in her eyes, biting her lips, her hand travelling teasingly up and down Eliott's chest. She gets tentatively closer, her eyes fixed on his lips. Lucas's heart shatters , his eyes water. Everything happens in slow motion, the fast-paced track in the background doesn't reach his ears anymore, people drunkenly bumping into him doesn't make him turn his head, too transfixed on Eliott. He sees her lips part, can almost guess how fast her blood is pumping in her veins from the excitement of what she's about to do, their lips are millimeters apart when Eliott, in his inebriated state, catches up to what's happening. Lucas watches as he mumbles something close to a “ no thank you”. He slowly comes closer, wanting to know what's going to happen next.

“Why? You liked the first one....” He hears the girl speaking in a husky voice and refrains himself from scoffing bitterly.

At her new attempt at kissing, Eliott turns his head fast, his eyes widening in shock when they fall on Lucas, shoving the girl aside quickly before swaying in his direction. Lucas stands still, not able to move, it's becoming increasingly hard to breathe. He only remembers what he was doing here in the first place when Eliott drops a hand on his shoulder, squeezing a little to keep his balance. He goes for a hug, only to be rejected, Lucas shoving his hand off his shoulders, pinning him down under his stare, only muttering a short “ I'm taking you home” before turning away, guiding Eliott through the house by a firm grasp on his wrist. They part the crowd, ignoring people calling them, only stopping once outside to breathe fresh air. Lucas prevents Eliott from talking, he doesn't want to hear anything coming from him tonight, doesn't have the energy to deal with another fight. He only makes a small gesture with his head, asking him to follow him, their steps synchronizing along the way.

The walk back home is uncomfortably silent, the two boys unable to utter a single word. Lucas hopes that by the time they make it back home, Eliott has sobered up enough for them to talk.

The door shuts behind them in a loud bang.

“I swear Lucas I didn’t kiss her! It was a stupid dare and it meant nothing to me! And then she came onto me and... I don’t know I was drunk and upset after our fight so I let her.”

“Can't you see that’s the problem Eliott ! You lead her on! Who knows how far you would have gone together if I didn't come to get you.”.

Eliott runs a hand down his face, dark eyes hardening.

“Do you really think I would cheat on you Lucas? Is that what you think of me?”

“Well I certainly don't want a repeat of the Lucille incident” He snaps, crossing his arms angrily.

“For fuck sakes Lucas it was once and we weren't officially a couple! Will you ever drop it?”

“Maybe it happened once but you were inebriated tonight Eliott, and you know you tend to get flirty when you drink, you can't blame me for being a little suspicious.”

“So you don't trust me. Great.”

“I didn't say that...”

“You didn't need to Lucas.”

They stare at each other defiantly, fire in their eyes. Lucas is the first one to look away, he sighs tapping his foot against the floor rapidly.

“ You know what Eliott, it's late, you're drunk and we're both tired. We'll talk in the morning if you're well enough. For now go to sleep.”

He turns around, not wanting to see the look on his face. The anger and the hurt he's been feeling for the past week are still burning underneath the surface, ready to be ignited again. Lucas closes his eyes, listening to the quiet surrounding them, he can hear the floor creaking above his head. One of their neighbors is a night owl, good to know. A soft hand encircles his wrist, not squeezing, just laying there. A weight falls on his shoulder, he can feel Eliott's breath on the back of his neck, nuzzling there. He suppresses a shiver. His hand goes up his arm slowly, so gently the featherlike touch tickles him. The touches stop once his hands rest on his shoulders, bringing them closer together. Nothing can be heard, only their synched breathing.

Every contact on Lucas's skin prickles him, lighting his skin up in anticipation. How he has craved Eliott's touch during their week apart, tossing and turning on the coloc's couch, feeling cold, having no one to cuddle him, encircle him with his arms in a protective hold. But nothing has changed, they have to talk at some point, about tonight, about them, about where they are going, about what Lucas is the most afraid of. They both said hurtful things, things they regretted as soon as the words were out. Apologies are long overdue. Eliott whispers muffled words against his skin like a prayer, barely audible.

“I'm so sorry love. Come to bed with me. I missed you I missed you I missed you...”

“I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible”

Lucas wants to give in, his touch-starved body wanting nothing more than to melt into Eliott's. His battered heart however can't handle being too close, in case one of them decides to pull away again. Eyes tightly shut, he wipes away the tear beginning to fall.

“You'll understand why storms are named after people”

“I can't Eliott” His voice cracks up. “ I miss you too but it's too soon. You really hurt me, I need time. Go to sleep, I'll take the couch.”

He feels more than he hears the deep sigh behind him, the loud exhale leaving goosebumps on his skin. Arms hold him tighter, squeezing once before letting go, leaving him feeling cold, alone in a dark room.

“Goodnight love”

Lucas can't look at Eliott right now or he'll cave in. His will is already wearing thin.

“Goodnight Eliott”

He doesn't see the sweet smile faltering nor the sorrow in his eyes. Lucas stays a while longer looking through the window at the deserted streets, listening to the faint noise of the parisian nightlife. Only when he's certain Eliott won't return to the living room he lets the tears pour. Crying silently on the living room couch, his thoughts run in circles, making him imagine the worst case scenario over and over again. As the sun rises and the birds start chirping he falls asleep, too exhausted to keep his red eyes open.

NB: Hi I hope you enjoyed! So I just wanted to say that the pics aren’t mine ( except from the bottom right one) I found them on the Internet so if one of your pic is in there just let me know and I’ll credit you! Also the quote is from Caitlyn Siehl and the title of this fic comes from a song called “ La lune à 3h du mat” (duh) written by French artist Maxenss, go check his work out his songs are awesome! ( really angsty for some though). Okay I think that’s all thank you for reading and have a good day! Love you all and see you next time!

#elu fic #elu fanfic #elu #skam france #lucas x eliott #lucas x eliott fanfic #Lucas Lallemant #eliott demaury #elu oneshot #this is like the longest oneshot i've ever written #yay me #i am so nervous to post this one omg #first time writing angst #please tell me if it is any good #written for a prompt #prompt

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phantom-soldat · 5 years

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Meeting Sebastian Stan.

This is not an opportunity I ever expected to have, at least not anytime soon. When he was first announced to be a guest at MCM Comic Con (London, May 2019) I had a bunch of people tagging me in the announcement post. Sebastian is an actor that means a lot to me - He’s caring and has struggled with a lot of the same things that I struggle with; from anxiety to depression, and generally being a bit lost in the world. We’ve all seen the posts of him commenting on fan’s posts, giving them advice while simultaneously putting more positivity and support into the world. For this reason, and more, he is incredibly inspiring and important to me. I aspire to be as supportive, caring, loving, goofy and giving as this man.

So, when he was announced, I knew I had to meet him. For me, it wasn’t an option: I had to. It was simply too important for me not to.

One thing I had wanted to do before I met him was get a tattoo of the Winter Soldier, however, due to money issues and time, etc, I had never had the opportunity to get one before comic con. Until comic-con. Another opportunity came up when MCM announced that they were having tattoo artists at the convention, and so I booked in with a lovely lady by the name of Laura, from Empire INK in Edinburgh. Thankfully, I managed to save up enough money for the tattoo - Through both selling possessions and saving up money from my day-job.

She was absolutely lovely and great with communicating the design I had in mind. I wanted something to match the other tattoos on the opposite arm; a portrait, with his signature at the bottom (on my opposite arm I have a Hela portrait). The Bucky tattoo would be on my left inner forearm, covering self-harm scars with something - someone/a character - that means so much to me. Bucky, much like myself, has been through a lot of mental issues. He’s lost, finding his way, but despite all of the issues he’s had? He’s made it through it all, he’s continued fighting despite all of the challenges he’s faced... and that’s something I can remind myself: I can fight and get through the challenges I face. I will survive, and have survived. The significance of this tattoo, and getting Sebastian to sign it, was and is extremely important to me.

Which leads to the first picture.

First picture. So, on the first day of comic-con (the Friday) Sebastian wasn't there. This was the day I booked in for a full-day session for my tattoo. Laura, my artist, was absolutely ecstatic as she’s also a fan of the guy, and was super pumped to find out that Sebastian would be seeing her work. The session lasted for, roughly, seven hours with only one five-minute break for both my artist and I to have something to eat. During the course of the tattoo, the MCM staff came up to view the process of the tattoo; the security were very excited about it, and got the media team to come down to the section of the hall where all of the tattoo artists were. It was all very exciting, talking to them was lovely - They were all so supportive, kind and frequently returned throughout the course of the day to see the process. Alas, the media team turned up and took a few photos: One of which winded up on the MCM social media sites: Instagram, Facebook, Twitter. Both Laura and I freaked out, it was getting a lot of attention.

Second/third picture. Saturday came around fairly quickly. This was the day where I would try to get my autograph - The day I HAD to get it, as to not disturb the healing process of my tattoo. I was dressed as Wakanda Bucky that day, deciding to cosplay something more comfortable due to both the pain from my arm, the hot weather, and the fact that I couldn’t restrict my arm in tight costumes.

Before the convention, I had put together a little gift-box for Sebastian to give back to him the love, care and gratitude he gives to his fans. Inside, there was a Winter Soldier book (Civil War) that I had made him; personalised on the inside to, firstly, look like it held Winter Soldier documents which lead on to messages I had collected from fans. All stories about how he had changed their lives for the better, how he had made a positive impact on the world. I included other gifts, too, like a t-shirt (that says ‘Straight Outta Cryo’, much like his ‘Straight Outta Romania’ shirt), some drawings of mine, a Bucky, Nat and Sam tsum-tsum and a little lego figurine of Bucky.

So, with the box in my arms, I waited for about an hour and a half in the autograph queue. Although I missed his panel, it was worth it, because I knew that if I had attended that I would only spend more time waiting, and less time with my friends later on.

While waiting in the queue, I was alone and full of anxiety. This was a big moment for me. I’d actually see him. Meet him. Something I’d been waiting for years and years to have the opportunity for. People were trying to snag sneaky pictures of him: going on their friends shoulders just to get a peak of the infamous Seb Stan.

Eventually, it was my turn to walk up to the table where he was signing. Due to the sheer amount of people that were there, it was very rushed, for they wanted to get through as many people as possible: I knew this going in, and so I’d been going over and over what I’d say to him in my head. With a smile, he greeted me; it was clear that he was tired, having flown in the previous morning and hadn’t stopped working since. Rumour has it he worked through his breaks to continue meeting fans - between the photo-ops, the panels and the signings he must have been really exhausted, with jet-lag on top of that, and so I felt really bad for the guy.

In brief words I explained my gift to him, and he smiled and let out a laugh upon hearing what the t-shirt said. At the time he didn’t open the box, because it was simply too busy to do so and the convention staff were pushing him to continue going through as many people as he could. In the panel I had missed, or the panel the next day (I can’t remember which one) I believe he referenced this and said how he wished he could spend more time with us all, and talk to us all properly. I still treasure every second I got to spend with him, though, because as previously stated, it was a moment that is extremely close to heart, and I know a lot of people wouldn’t have had this opportunity (this was also why I gathered fan messages, so that I could give him something from them in-case they never do have this opportunity).

The convention staff got me to show him what I wanted signed: Most people brought posters, or pop-vinyls, but I showed him my arm and said I’d like my wrist tattooed. He delicately held my hand and arm as he signed it, and then I was on my way once I had thanked him.

Afterwards, I immediately called up my bestfriend and burst into tears. I had met him. I had thanked him. I had given him a gift and, now, I would have his autograph on me forever, knowing that I have a very personal reminder to myself: I can do this. Whatever ‘this’ is, I can do it.

Due to the overwhelming emotions I was having, the busy crowds, the heat, and the pain and toll the tattoo session the previous day had caused me, I did have quite a big panic-attack. During this time, I had to go outside and get some fresh air, but my best-friend stayed on the phone with me and calmed me down - I am eternally grateful for his friendship and support, and for moments like these when he helps ground me back to reality.

This leads on to the next photo; where, once I’d had some fresh air, a drink and some food, I went back inside to get the signature tattooed. Once again, Laura and I freaked out over it, and I told her all about it excitedly as she finished up tattooing the autograph and shading around it. She even went back over the little red star at the top of my wrist, which Seb had signed over. Laura did an amazing job with the tattoo, and worked the signature into it flawlessly. I can’t thank her enough.

Sunday. This was the day that my photo-op was booked (that was an entire process of its own. Tickets sold out within 2-3 minutes - I am so, SO thankful that I managed to snag one). Much like the autograph process, the MCM staff were trying to get through as many people as possible, and so the entire thing was very ‘click and go’. Generally, this is the case with photo-ops at conventions - It’s less personal, more of a ‘capture the moment’ type of thing.

On this day, I was dressed as Black Widow from The Winter Soldier. It wasn’t the best costume I have ever worn, admittedly, but I was excited for my photo-op none the less. My costume broke on the way to the con, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me, and once again I was waiting in a long line for one last moment with Sebastian.

I knew that he likes Bucky and Natasha’s relationship in the comics, and that he would’ve liked them to be together in the movies. This is a ship that I also sail, along with Stucky, but I thought that being Nat would be a lot better as it’s also something that he enjoys. I actually managed to capture a sneaky video on my phone of me approaching him during the photo-op. They were very strict about no-photos apart from the one you paid for, which I understand, but at the same time, this was too important for me not to try and grab sneaky videos, etc. So I did. Sue me. (Please don’t, I’m going to be a poor student soon).

As I approached him during the photo-op, he looked a lot less tired, which I was thankful to see. He greeted me with a smile once more, and I showed him my finished tattoo - I kind of stood my ground and spoke to him very briefly before the photo-op was taken. Most people were conveyor belted through their sessions with him, but I was determined to show him the finished product. With a smile and an expression somewhat akin to awe, he said that it was amazing. We soon moved onto talking about what I wanted for the photo-op, and it took a split second for us both to get into position.

I wanted to look as if we were dancing romantically, as Natasha has a history of ballet. The final photo in the post was my photo-op, and I couldn’t be happier with it. It was a very full-on weekend, but I enjoyed every second of it.

Thank you MCM for giving me, and others, the opportunity to meet such an amazing man. Thank you Sebastian for flying all the way to London to take the time to meet your fans in England. Thank you Laura, for being an amazing tattoo-artist and for the nerdy talks we had during my tattoo session, and for giving me a piece of work on my art that is very, very treasured to me; and, finally, thank you to all of my friends for supporting and loving me, for continuously encouraging me to step out of my comfort zone and to keep on fighting.

And continue fighting on I will, just like Bucky.

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severepersonacrime · 6 years

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The question of who is to blame in the event of a suicide is something that is often brought up in popular culture, debates and the media. When the tragic story of the bullying and suicide of Amanda Todd went viral around the world, more efforts were made in order to try and prevent teen suicide and put in measures to help those. But it also raises questions of responsibility and whether others should be given responsibility for their actions or whether the victim should be held accountability for making the choice. This case of the long distance relationship between 17 year old Michelle Carter and 18 year old Conrad Roy upholds this debate and whether someone should be held criminally responsible for what they say in regards to teen suicide.

Conrad Roy was a young man living in New Bedford Massachusetts, born in 1995 – he suffered from social anxiety, especially surrounding school and being in the classroom and therefore struggled. However, he was close with his family, often working alongside his father and grandfather in their marine salvaging business. In 2014, he earned his captain's license after attending three months worth of night school and graduated on the honour roll of his high school – he was a star athlete who played baseball and ran track. Although he had been accepted to do a degree in business, he declined the offer and decided not to pursue higher education.

Conrad's mental health, however, was deeply worrying. Alongside his social anxiety, Conrad also suffered from depression and was very hard on himself about his achievements and what he wanted to do with his life. When he was 16, his parents divorced, which hit him hard and left him struggling to cope. His friends often noted that they would have a lot of conversations that would quickly turn dark, talking about a darkness surrounding him and how he felt isolated.

When he was 17, Conrad had messaged a friend, Aryanna Taylor, telling her that he had overdosed in a suicide attempt. He was rushed to hospital. He had overdosed on a drug called acetaminophen, and had asked his friend to contact his mother, who believes this was his way of calling out for help with his mental help. He was put on anti-depressants, a drug called Celexa, and was getting professional help to deal with his problems. The future was slowly starting to look brighter as time went on, until he met Michelle Carter.

Michelle Carter was a girl that Conrad had met while he was on vacation with his family in 2012. The two eventually started a relationship, which became a long distance one after the vacation had ended. As was the case with long distance relationships, most of their interactions were over the phone through text and they were rarely able to see each other face to face.

To those that didn't know Michelle Carter, they would have described her as a friendly, normal teenager, who was active and always able to brighten up someone's day. She was well-liked by her fellow students. But there was more to her than meets the eye. Her and Conrad had many things in common: she was also on antidepressants and was dealing with an eating disorder. Both struggled with mental health issues, which would eventually takes its toll with Conrad.

On Saturday July 12th 2014, Conrad seemed normal, according to his family, and that he wanted to go the beach with his two younger sisters. However, his sisters noted that he seemed distracted by his phone, most likely texting Michelle, seeming agitated and anxious. He had taken his sisters out to ice cream later, however, and his mood seemed to have lifted. He returned the girls home and he left his house at 6pm, telling his family that he was leaving to go to a friend's house. That was the last time his family spoke to him.

On Sunday July 13th 2014, while interacting with Michelle through text, Conrad parked in the parking lot of a closed K-Mart and poisoned himself with carbon monoxide fumes in his truck in an attempt on his life. Sadly, the attempt worked and he died.

During the night, Conrad's sister, Camryn, received a text from Michelle, asking if she knew where Conrad was and that they were in fact boyfriend and girlfriend, a fact which Camryn herself was not aware of. It was supposedly unlike Conrad to not come home until the middle of the night and that something may have been wrong. In the morning, she searched his friend's houses and their Dad's but there was no sign anywhere.

On the afternoon of July 13th, police found his body in his truck, post mortem, his cellphone right next to him. The idea of him having committed suicide was not considered. Had detectives went through his phone records, they would have across a series of messages from Michelle, in which she seemed to be coaxing him through text messages to commit the act, right until he actually did.

A released log of the messages they had sent each other:

Conrad to Michelle: 7/12/2014 | 3:40:35 p.m.: I'm determined

Michelle to Conrad: 7/12/2014 | 3:41:33 p.m.: I'm happy to hear that

Michelle to Conrad: 7/12/2014 | 3:47:18 p.m.: When you get back from the beach, you gotta … do it….

Conrad to Michelle: 7/12/2014 | 4:26:55 p.m.: no more thinking

Michelle to Conrad: 7/12/2014 | 4:26:55 p.m.: Yes, no more thinking you need to just do it...

At the wake, however, Michelle appeared to be acting as though Conrad's suicide was a complete shock to her, sending his mother a message detailing how devastated she was at the news and making a scene at his wake. To others, she seemed to be acting like a grieving widow. She even set up a fundraiser in his name in her hometown.

Detectives eventually got round to speaking to her regarding the manner of his death, in which she lied and denied having spoken to him on the day of his death. Her story was full of holes, however, and police eventually scoured through her phone to find these coaxing text messages, which they believed was the tipping point as to what made Conrad want to commit suicide. She had also sent ominous messages to a friend:

Michelle to Samantha: 7/12/2014 | 8:02:12 p.m. He just called me…I heard moaning like someone was in pain and he wouldn't answer when I said his name…

Michelle to Samantha: 7/12/2014 | 8:25:34 p.m.: I think he just killed himself

Michelle to Samantha: 9/15/2014 |8:24:05 p.m.: Sam his death is my fault like honestly I could have stopped him I was on the phone with him and he got out of the car because it was working and he got scared and I f---ng told him to get back in …

Another text message recovered from Conrad's phone details Michelle asking him to delete his text messages. Some of the deleted messages recovered included Conrad telling her that she felt scared to do so and that she kept continuing to persuade him to carry it out. Although she had originally tried to help Conrad throughout his problems, her mind had changed, suggesting they carry out an act similar to that of Romeo and Juliet and believed that it was better for him to die.

This shocked detectives, however there was no law dictating whether the encouragement of suicide or assisting someone in suicide is a criminal offence. In legal times, Michelle was miles away during the time of his death, so it would become hard to prove her to criminally responsible in a court of law on counts of murder. However, others argue that texting provides a certain leeway, that its like having the person there in front of there. The U.S. Supreme Court seemed to agree with this point of view, deciding that Michelle should face charges of involuntary manslaughter and would have to stand trial. She was labelled as a “young offender” rather than a juvenile, which meant that at just 17 years old, she could be sentenced as an adult.

The day before Michelle's trial, Michelle wavered her right to have a trial by jury, and her case was heard by Lawrence Moniz. Her trial was the first in the state of Massachusetts to be regarding involuntary manslaughter through text messages. Prosecution argued that she had sought to gain public attention from the tragic suicide of her boyfriend, while the defence argued that Roy's decision was ultimately his own and she had broken no laws. She was found legally guilty of involuntary manslaughter on June 16th 2017, and was released on bail until August 3rd, where she would return to court to await sentencing – on August 3rd, she was sentenced to a two and a half year term, having to serve at least 15 months in a correctional facility and having to serve at least 5 years probation. She was also not allowed to leave the state of Massachusetts or obtain a passport with permission from a judge.

While lower courts do not yield the power to control state law, further attention to a case, especially one so controversial, may influence other courts to bring more action in terms of trying to add new terms and clauses to the judicial system, including this idea of assisted suicide through text messages and phone calls, and degrees of accountability. Many would argue that the case was just of two teenagers who were not in the right frame of mind to be in a relationship with somebody else. Some would say that Michelle took advantage of someone who was clearly in a low state of mental health. Either way, this case has shed a new light in flaws within the legal system, in which laws remain unclear and more work needing to be done to establish a firm line between accountability and innocence.

#michelle carter #conrad roy #tcc

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ineverhadmyinternetphase · 7 years

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Steal My Heart (steal my whole life too) 20/28

Genre: Chaptered, fantasy AU, Prince!Phil, Thief!Dan, romance, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff, slow burn (like serious slow burn)

Warnings: some violence, mentions of death (no main characters), dark magic, descriptions of wounds/blood, some hints of sexual scenes (but no actual smut), murder, dangerous situations, stealing/thievery

Summary: Captain of the Royal Guard and Prince of Morellia, Philip Lester has never been given the chance to find love. Instead, he’s run from a system that works to end class differences and improve equality for its citizens. Happy as he is to make the world a better place, Phil can’t help feeling bitter towards his ancestors for making it impossible for him to find someone who will actually love him for more than just his title, and strives instead for a life of justice and doing good - only to meet his match in the King of Thieves, a man who will change everything he once thought he knew in life. Together, they must depart on a quest to save the kingdom, and, in the process, destroy their differences and find their own form of love.

Word count: 240,000+

Updates: Sunday

Thanks so much to @botanistlester for betaing this giant monster, as she’s been super helpful and encouraging with her little comments and endless excitement. We couldn’t have done it without you <3

Also, This was originally only the first half of this chapter, but it grew so much in editing that we've ended up splitting it into two xD so this story is now 28 chapters long. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: In no way do I claim that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil

For reference, @snowbunnylester is Phil, @ineverhadmyinternetphase is Dan

(AO3 link) (Masterlist)

Chapter 20

Phil was still trembling slightly when Dan took him by the arm and began to lead them both from the campsite they’d settled in. Brandon stayed behind, rummaging over the Duke’s dead body, and likely planning to ransack their still crackling food as well while they were away, but Phil couldn’t bring himself to care. There was still a part of him reeling from all that had just happened, the adrenaline rush fading and leaving him nothing more than -- exhausted.

Dan shifted his palm down against Phil’s until their fingers entwined together comfortably, and then they were swinging them between them. Dan didn’t seem to care about the fact that Phil was covered in blood, for which he was grateful, needing that soft touch to keep him calm. It was just that, the Duke had threatened Dan’s life, his people’s lives, all for something as petty as power, and while Phil had become used to such things, he’d never had so much to lose before now.

Fingers tightening in Dan’s, Phil allowed him to just lead him along the mountain path they’d been climbing earlier, and up to a spring that Brandon had told them about. With how exhausted Phil felt just then, however, he didn’t believe that the bandit had anything to worry about in terms of them defiling anything. Dan was going to be far too busy trying to get Phil clean.

His clothes, however, were a clear lost cause. For the first time in the last few days, Phil was glad he hadn’t been wearing his cloak, because at the very least, it hadn’t ended up ruined with all the rest of his stuff.

Sighing, Phil settled down on the hard ground when Dan ushered him to, and allowed his head to hang limply between his shoulders. He felt defeated in the strangest of ways, for having won. Well, not strange… Phil always felt defeated when he was forced to end someone’s life. Deciding a distraction was much needed while Dan did whatever he was doing before letting Phil climb in the soothing water, Phil asked, “How long have you known Brandon?”

"Oh, Brandon and I go back years," Dan murmured, staying close to Phil as he forced him to sit by the lake. “An old comrade. One of the best, actually, and a fortunate ally for us to have found.

Determined not to let Phil do anything for himself, Dan then set about unbuttoning Phil's tunic, gently removing the material. "I first met him the first time I travelled up here. Luckily for me, my reputation had already spread, so he knew who I was. I helped him out with some tactics, gave him some gold, that sort of thing. Since then he's been a friend I come to visit quite often."

Once Phil’s tunic was gone, Dan made quick work of his trousers, pulling his pants down with it. Phil was clearly too tired to care about his modesty, not even blushing the way he usually did when he knew Dan was looking at him, and that worried him some, but then again, Phil had just killed somebody.

With Phil stripped of his clothing, Dan gently helped lower him down into the lake, then slipped off his own clothes and slid in behind him. He wasn't planning to get up to anything, despite what he'd said to Brandon, so Dan simply swam up behind Phil and gently ran the scrap of fur he’d brought with him as a washcloth down Phil’s chest.

"He's rough, but harmless," Dan promised. "Don't worry about him betraying us - trust me, he knows he wouldn't survive long." Dan chuckled a little, bringing Phil closer and ducking him backwards so he could wash his hair.

Phil smiled as Dan helped to undress him and then joined him in the water, eyes half lidded as Dan went about washing him down. Phil could see the water turning red with the blood of their enemy, and laughed at his own pretentious thought. It was a true relief to no longer have the Duke to worry about any longer, though, and while the shock was beginning to wear off, Phil knew that he would be okay.

Despite the Duke's threats, Phil believed he and Dan would make it to the dragon with little to no more bloodshed as well, so even those words did not hang over him. They’d had a plan beforehand. No one could stop them from pushing through with it now.

It was also good to hear that Dan and Brandon had a good, strong relationship. They were clearly friends, but Brandon seemed to have a healthy dose of respect for Dan, as Dan had said. Phil was certain that if Dan was safe in the knowledge over his power over Brandon, then Phil could be too.

"So I didn't steal away all your friends, then," Phil mused quietly, the words mumbled and soft from Phil's own exhaustion.

"Not all of my friends, no," Dan answered with a light tinge of amusement. "Just the ones in the capital. I know thieves in almost every city, though, so it would take even you quite a while to rid me of all of them, Captain." Dan liked this light teasing between them, enjoyed how they could laugh over some of their differences. It had taken a long time for them to get here, but with the Duke finally defeated, Dan was beginning to believe they might actually live to see their future together come about.

"Good work on the Duke, by the way," Dan added as he massaged his hands into Phil's hair. "Much as I don't want you to put yourself in danger, I admit I can rest a little easier knowing you can handle yourself. I wasn't sure you'd be ok with murder, to be honest."

Dan wasn’t far off. Phil wasn’t okay with murder, no matter how many times he had to do it to protect the innocent, and though he’d promised Dan days ago that he’d do what he had to do, he’d known they were both still unsure if Phil could.

He’d managed it, though, for the safety of those he loved. For all that he hated having had to do it, he didn’t regret it, not for one second. Nothing good could have come from a man like the Duke, even if -- even if Phil had wished it could have been different. Today, just like any other day Phil had been forced to kill someone, he was left nothing more than exhausted, heartbroken, struggling with the fact that he’d had to do it, even if it was for the greater good.

Fear had driven him, though, fear and a hunger to protect above all else, but still… Phil knew he could have just as easily have died at the Duke’s hand. He would never have gone down without fighting, though.

He wondered what Dan would have done, had he been in Phil’s place. He knew much the same, but… would it have been cleaner? Safer? Neater? Phil wondered if it would have weighed on him the way it was weighing on Phil.

"You'd think considering I'm the youngest Captain of the Guard ever, that you'd have a bit more faith in me," Phil teased, changing the tone of the conversation and his thoughts quickly as he didn’t want to dissolve into the pain of wondering such dark thoughts. Nothing good could come of it, surely.

Dan rolled his eyes a little, prodding Phil's side. "Yes, OK, youngest Captain of the Royal Guard ever. Whatever you do, you'll always be an old man to me. I'm still a teenager, after all, to me you're basically ancient." He snickered, digging his finger just under Phil's ribs.

Allowing himself to be dipped backwards, Phil let himself enjoy the way Dan ran his fingers through Phil’s hair to wash through it for him. "But it is hard on me,” Phil admitted after another moment. “I don't like to resort to murder. It doesn't mean I won't do what's necessary to protect those around me, but… it takes its toll on me.”

"I hope you won't have to resort to murder again," Dan murmured. "And especially not because of me." He didn't like the thought of Phil having to act against his morals, even if it was something Phil demanded he was okay with. Where he could, Dan vowed to do Phil's killing for him, seeing as Dan was already damned and didn't hold the same scruples as Phil did. He wouldn't have thought twice about killing the Duke - it was just the fact that Phil had to do it that was wrong.

Sometimes, Dan wondered what that made him, exactly. He could see from the heaviness of Phil’s eyes and limbs that he was taking it hard, or at the very least feeling guilty. Dan couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like that. Killing to survive had been part of his life for so long it was difficult to separate any real feelings of remorse from that.

Phil was a better man than him. Dan already knew this, but it made something tighten in his gut to realise just how deep the difference went. For all Dan’s posturing and complaining about the Royals, Phil was still a better man than him.

The most Dan could do now was protect him from any future wrongdoing, and try to take the flack for Phil as much as he possibly could.

Phil couldn’t help but to agree with Dan in hoping this would be the last murder he had to commit, the only problem was… he knew that this would not be the last time, not for as long as he held the mantle as Captain of the Royal Guard, not so long as he decided to maintain ties with the King of Thieves.

So… forever, then. That wasn’t too big a sacrifice, even for Phil. Not if it meant protecting his people, his Dan.

Dan was done washing Phil now, but far too comfortable to move, so Dan simply floated there, holding Phil against his chest. The mountain lake was quiet and relaxed, set away from the narrow path in its own secluded corner. It was a nice, peaceful place - Dan could fall asleep there, if he let himself. They both lay so comfortably floating in the water, Phil’s head resting on Dan’s chest now. It was truly wonderful.

As the quiet surrounded them once more, Phil felt his mind wandering. He couldn’t help thinking about before, with the Duke...

The fight had been over so quick, it seemed. Phil was having a hard time remembering it in proper detail, other than the panic, the fear, the emotions he’d allowed to lead him as his best strategy to taking down the Duke. All he really knew was that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the safety of his thief, of keeping the man safe… It seemed almost silly, now.

Things could have ended far differently than they had. Why hadn’t Phil just been more careful, not thrown himself at the Duke the way he had, left himself open to being physically overpowered, regardless of how short a time, and the Duke had held him down quite a long while, if Phil was being honest with himself.

Thoughts becoming almost too much for him, Phil asked, “What if I’d fallen to him? What if I’d died?”

Dan's eyes instantly hardened. How Phil could say that - could say it with such ease - Dan couldn’t fathom. He tightened his grip around Phil and pressed his face into Phil's hair, closing his eyes. The thought of losing Phil was unbearable - Dan was never going to allow it to happen.

"We aren't talking about that," Dan said in a dangerously low tone. "I'm not letting you go that easily after you somehow wormed your way into my heart, Phil. I couldn't - I can't lose someone else. I just can't." He closed his eyes briefly, trembling. "I already swore vengeance for my family's death. It would only get far, far worse if I had you to avenge, as well. In fact, your Kingdom may very well not survive the experience. So don't go dying on me, OK?"

Phil almost wished he'd kept their experience peaceful, rather than asking such an insensitive question, and yet having Dan wrap himself tighter around Phil, pressing his face into Phi's hair, was almost enough for him not to regret it at all. He liked having Dan hold him tight, liked knowing how important he was to Dan, and liked knowing that his wouldn't have been a death that Dan could have wiped away so easily.

Maybe that was cruel of Phil, to be glad that his death would hurt Dan, but even as a shiver went up his spine at the thought of the destruction Dan would cause for his loss of Phil, he couldn't help it. No one had ever treasured Phil. Even when others had attempted to court him, his brother had been more treasured than Phil by both their suitors. Phil was just the second brother, a shot at royalty when Martyn was lost to them.

It had been one of the most hurtful moments of Phil’s life, to realize this. That he was nothing more than a castaway to their people, not enough, but… doable.

Phil clung back to Dan as tight as ever.

"I won't die on you," he promised softly, eyes closed. "I wouldn't dare to die on you, my thief. Not after all you've done for me. I owe you at least a hundred years, don't you agree?" Phil teased quietly. He wanted to twist in Dan's hold, embrace him properly, maybe even kiss him now that he wasn't covered in the Duke's blood, but he was also so, so tired, he couldn’t even think of moving.

Phil's words were a soft comfort to Dan, and he relaxed even further, hugging Phil close. He was so warm, even in the cool of the water, and Dan loved having someone to curl up to, to nuzzle against and hold tight the way he could hold Phil. He breathed him in and gave a gentle hum of happiness. "I think one hundred years should do it. I'd prefer an eternity, though."

"An eternity sounds particularly nice," Phil said, smiling at that. It was good to hear Dan’s soft voice as it whispered in his ear just how much he wanted Phil to stick around. They hadn’t yet said those fateful words, but Phil thought they both knew just how much they meant to each other. Still… there was one thing bothering Phil.

He’d had to spend so much time with the Duke alone today. Phil knew the jealousy Dan had experienced the day before couldn’t have gone away that easily. He might have killed the Duke already, but --

“I’m sorry if today was hard on you. I know it can’t have been easy to see me flirting with the Duke, using him the way I did…” Phil murmured, rolling his head on Dan’s chest to cast a look upwards at him. He bit his lip. “I told you the Duke meant nothing to me, and I know you believed me, but it can’t have been easy…”

Phil trailed off for a moment, and then he said, “But I need you to know. That, back there? That was for you. No one gets to treat my thief the way the Duke did you. The way he spoke of you…” Phil trailed off, gritting his teeth at the memory of the Duke threatening to kill Dan regardless of Phil’s decision in marrying him. He had to turn his head back skywards so he could glare at nothing, rather than Dan.

The idea that Phil had killed the Duke in defence of Dan sent a chill running down Dan’s spine. That he could mean so much to another person was still a surprise to Dan, who was far more used to the cut-throat world of his thieves than the one from which Phil and the Duke came from.

It was a novelty to have someone else caring for him enough to protect him, but it also made Dan’s stomach twist unpleasantly. Phil had been in danger, and Dan hadn’t even known.

He span Phil gently in the water, reluctant to move him, but wanting to see his face again. Dan cupped his cheek with one large hand and smiled warmly, smoothing his thumb softly against Phil's skin.

Being moved was disgruntling, but Phil allowed it, opening his eyes and smiling at Dan when he cupped his cheek. His arms went easily around Dan's waist, dragging him near. He loved the way that Dan's palm fit over his cheek. It was a warm presence, so much better than any of the girls who'd ever touched him before, wanting to woo Phil. Dan's hands were calloused and strong, but nonetheless soft, and he was the only person Phil had ever known to be bigger than him.

It was a good feeling, to be smaller than someone for once. To feel protected just being in their embrace.

"I do appreciate that," Dan murmured. "I would never want you in danger because of me, but… I admit it is nice to have someone else fighting my battles for me. Makes a good change." He adopted a stern expression for a moment. "But that does not mean you have permission to fight for me, you know? No putting yourself in unnecessary danger."

Snorting, Phil rested his chin on Dan's shoulder, inhaling the scent of his hair. "No unnecessary danger, fine. But I will fight for you, Dan. I will always fight for you, whether you want me to or not. If and when I deem it necessary, I will do everything within my power to protect you."

“No, that isn’t the agreement,” Dan argued, but he could see the stubborn determination in Phil’s eyes. He huffed. “Well, maybe we can agree to protect each other, then. I still don’t like the thought of you in danger.”

Dan sighed, leaning against Phil's chest and resting his head in the crook of Phil's neck. It was nice to hold Phil, yes, but Dan equally loved being held by him. Having Phil wrap himself completely around Dan made Dan feel safer than ever. "I am glad I found you," Dan mumbled. "I didn't expect you to be anything like this, but I'm pretty thrilled you are, to be honest." He snorted softly. "The Captain of the Royal Guard just killed for me. I never saw this coming.

Phil swallowed thickly. Yes, he knew where Dan was coming from. Phil had never been so grateful to meet someone in his life.

'I love you,' sat thick and heavy on Phil's tongue, but he didn't speak it, pressing a delicate kiss to Dan's ear instead.

He'd already given Dan his heart, but those words felt like locking it away with Dan forever, and Phil, while secure in the knowledge of his feelings and his relationship with Dan, was still so afraid…

Worried about what he’d do if they stayed here like this any longer, Phil started to pull away from Dan’s embrace, pressing a swift kiss to his thief’s cheek before pulling all the way away.

"We should get back. We have a long day tomorrow, and I think I'm going to collapse any second, now,” he said, yawning for good measure.

The words weren’t entirely a lie, but at the same time, Phil just wanted… a moment to himself. Today had taken more from him than he’d ever expected it would, and he was still reeling from what he’d done, let alone his feelings for Dan.

One day, he’d say those words… but that day was not quite today.

Dan sighed a little when Phil suggested that they go back, even though he knew he was right. Dan kind of didn't want to leave their little moment, well, ever. It was too nice to be held by Phil, and to be holding him in return, resting comfortably in each other's hold. It was so warm and comfortable. Dan didn't think he'd ever felt as safe, like nothing could break in and ruin them.

Eventually, though, real life would catch up with them, as it always would, so Dan disentangled himself with a soft, disgruntled noise, pulling Phil in for one last, soft kiss. "Right you are," he murmured. "I wouldn't put it past Brandon to try taking some of our stuff if we stay out too long."

It was nice, the way 'we' and 'our' had become natural parts of Dan's vocabulary again now. He linked fingers with Phil and drew him gently out of the lake, though he eyed Phil's clothes with vague disgust. They were still covered in blood.

Snorting himself, Phil nodded, having the feeling that for all of Brandon's sweet talking to Dan, he was still a thief and seemed to be a bit of a kleptomaniac. He hadn't seemed able to help himself from picking over the Duke's dead body almost immediately to find every piece of treasure he had on him, not to mention the more useful items. Phil's disgust was so real he didn't even want the useful stuff, and was glad to hand them off the Brandon.

"As little as I want him stealing from us, I've got all my most precious items right here," Phil murmured, humming as he pressed a hand over Dan's heart. "Particularly this one," he added, teasing. He kissed Dan again once more as well, just because he could, and would have drawn him in for something much longer if it weren't for the yawn that cracked his jaw seconds later.

Dan chuckled, shaking his head at Phil’s ridiculousness. "Cheesy as ever, my Prince. I would offer to go grab you a change of clothes, but I don't really want to leave you alone just now." He smirked a little, casting Phil a sidelong wink. "Besides, I'm quite enjoying the view."

As always, Phil immediately blushed to have Dan teasing him, smirking at him, and shifted a bit in a strange, pointless attempt to cover himself up.

"Are you afraid I'll disappear if you take your eyes off of me?" Phil teased back, doing his best to get over his shyness when it came to Dan looking at him. It was easier after they'd just had sex, but Phil wanted to be able to accept and tease Dan back one day, too, to be able to stand buck naked in front of him and not feel a shred of indecency. He wanted to feel… like Dan’s.

“Something like that,” Dan answered lightly, amused by Phil’s apparent shyness. He chuckled, bending down and scooping up the rest of Phil’s clothes. “These are too soiled for you to wear, come on, just hide behind me while we head back.”

Rolling his eyes at Dan’s teasing, Phil took Dan’s hand in his and began to lead the two of them back down the mountain path they’d climbed up and to their cavern. Dan was fully dressed and holding onto Phil’s soiled clothing, which left Phil with nothing to cover his modesty. Snatching the offending garments away from a snickering Dan’s hand, Phil quickly shoved them in front of his intimate bits, and half hoped that Brandon would be gone when they got back.

He wasn't, and Phil might have hidden behind Dan's body a little bit when Brandon's eyes darted over to them, not that anyone could prove it to be true. The bandit’s grin was lecherous, however, and he licked his lips noticeably at the sight of the naked Prince, something that made Phil more than just a little uncomfortable. He would have thought the bandit would have been more respectful of Phil when Dan considered him his property, but he didn’t say a word in defence of himself, instead choosing to remain half hidden behind Dan’s figure in front of him.

Dan had to bite his lip to hide his grin at the way Phil was hiding behind him. It was just a little bit too cute, having him hovering at Dan's elbow and ducking with a blush whenever he sensed someone's eyes on him.

Taking pity on him, Dan sent Phil off into the cave and gestured to Brandon to follow him outside, giving Phil some much-needed privacy to dress himself. The sun was very low in the sky by now, casting long shadows across the mountain pass, and if Dan didn’t know better he would have been afraid of the darkness.

"I'm just helping myself to your deer before I take off, my King," Brandon stated playfully, still glancing towards the cave that hid Phil.

“Stop it,” Dan berated him tiredly. “Phil isn’t yours, I said.”

Brandon snickered, but then his face grew more serious. He gave Dan a long look. “No, I can see for pretty certain that he isn’t mine. You, though…”

Dan bit his inner cheek, doing his damnedest to hold back a flush. Brandon’s eyes were sharp, seeing much more than most people gave him credit for, but Dan knew him, knew just how much intelligence was hiding behind that rough exterior.

There was very little that Brandon didn’t see.

“So you’re still adamant you’re going after dragon scale?” Brandon asked after a minute.

Dan nodded fiercely. “We don’t have a choice. Phil’s family need it.”

Brandon considered him again, a moment of silence stretching out between them filled heavy with expectancy. Dan resisted the urge to shuffle his feet. Although he knew he had Brandon’s respect and loyalty, it was difficult not to feel like a child before his gaze. Brandon had been at this game far, far longer than Dan had, after all.

“May I speak bluntly, my King?” Brandon asked eventually.

Dan inclined his head once.

“The way I see it, the Captain is the one without the choice here.” Brandon tucked his thumbs into his trousers, adopting an air of casualness that was far from his serious tone. “Since when have you given two shits about the royals?”

Dan’s eyes narrowed. “I am not a bad man, Brandon.”

“I’d be the last to say that,” Brandon agreed, “But this? You would rejoice in the suffering of the royals, Dan, you know this. You have before.”

Dan barely concealed a flinch. He knew what Brandon was referring to - and yes, there had indeed been a time when Dan did everything he could to hurt any royal that he could. Phil’s Uncle was testament enough to that, but… but Dan regretted it, had always regretted it, and even more so now he knew Phil.

Revealing that to Brandon could be tricky, were it not that Brandon was a lone thief who rarely if ever saw the others from their community. If Dan confided in him, he could be sure it wouldn’t go any further.

“I just wonder,” Brandon continued, “Whether you know for sure what you are doing. I have seen you with the Captain, I know what I see. But does he?”

Dan’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

Brandon looked Dan full in the eyes, and his gaze was more knowing than anything. “I’m saying, does your Philip realise exactly what all this means for you?”

“He knows what I am,” Dan answered. “He doesn’t expect me to give that up. I am still the King of Thieves.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Brandon gently reprimanded. “I meant, does he know your past? Why I’ve never seen you let anyone in before?”

Dan froze.

“I don’t mean to bring up old wounds,” Brandon added, his eyes softening as he looked up at Dan. “But I have seen you at your worst, Dan. At your lowest. Does your Philip know that? Does he know why so few have ever counted themselves as close to you?”

Dan swallowed. He hadn’t expected this conversation to take this turn, though he should have expected it really - Brandon was fiercely protective. Dan just didn’t ever think he could have seen Phil as a threat.

“He doesn’t know everything yet,” Dan admitted after a moment. “But he knows more than most. He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Brandon lifted a brow. “You told him?”

“Not everything. Not yet.” Dan swallowed. “But I will.”

Brandon looked at him for a moment longer, but then he smiled. “Then I wish you well. You guard that heart of yours far too well for your own good, King. I trust you’ve given it to the right person.”

“I have,” Dan answered. “Believe me.”

Phil reappeared then, fully dressed and still looking a little bashful. Dan grinned at him, leaving Brandon’s side to go and take his arm.

Brandon watched them both for a moment, watched the way Phil leaned into Dan’s side, and then he nodded. "It’s time for me to be going. I'd leave the Duke's body to the animals if I were you two, but that's just me. Here's to hoping I see you around again, Captain Philip," he added with a little wink, before taking his leave.

"I'll be seeing you, Brandon," Dan nodded in return, rolling his eyes a little as he took in the amount of meat he'd taken. At least there were only two mouths left to feed, thanks to Phil getting rid of the Duke.

Dan watched Brandon leave with a small smile - it was good to see someone else from his world, no matter how briefly. His words weighed heavily in Dan’s mind, though. Perhaps he had been keeping his secrets too close for too long.

Even so, Dan had to admit, he liked seeing Phil with just time to themselves. He smirked a little once Brandon was out of sight, taking in Phil's now-dressed form. "You sure you wanted to find clothes? I really don't mind if you carried on walking around bare for a while." His eyes were bright as he watched Phil moving, never getting enough of how Phil was so shy and coy. Dan loved seeing him be bashful, it just made him want to stay close to Phil and wrap him up forever.

Muttering to himself, Phil answered, "No, I would very much so prefer to be clothed, no matter how much you like to look at my bum.” He was still blushing profusely even now he was wearing a new pair of trousers and a white tunic of Dan's.

"You're so protective of me, and yet you say nothing to your bandit friend when he tries to check me out," Phil continued on lightly, eyes glinting as he tossed Dan a look over his shoulder. "Growing bored of me already, thief? If you want to spice things up a bit, that's fine, but I hope you aren't planning on bringing anyone else to our bed chambers."

"In my defence, you have a nice bum," Dan shrugged, walking to Phil’s side and fingering the white tunic of his that Phil had decided to take as his own. It suited him. Dan loved the quiet intimacy of their clothes sharing, of the way it said so much of how comfortable they were with each other. He was a little shocked by Phil's further teasing, giving a little eye roll. "I promise you, if I was going to spice things up, I wouldn't have to bring in someone else to do it."

Phil laughed at that, delighted at the very thought of what else Dan could show him that didn’t involve others, and finished sorting out his clothes until he felt comfortable. After that, he shoved the soiled and dried clothes in their bag, sure he’d find a use for them later on.

Dan, meanwhile, had joined Phil in the cavern, and was staring distastefully down at the body of the dead Duke still lying in the centre of their camp. Grimacing, Dan shook his head, finally moving to look back up at Phil once more. "I know it's late, but do you feel like travelling on a little further? I don't want the Duke to spoil anything else between us. Not now he's finally gone."

Phil was just turning around when he caught sight of Dan’s deep frown as he stared down at the dead form of the Duke on the floor. Feeling his own stomach drop as Dan spoke, Phil realized that yes, he quite agreed with his thief. Yes. Despite his exhaustion, Phil would much prefer not staying in this cave with the Duke's dead body if he could avoid it.

"That's fine, I think I could go a little further," Phil agreed quietly, frowning darkly. Kicking at the Duke's body, Phil watched him roll so he was on his stomach, hiding the gruesome mark Phil had left behind from his knife.

"And for the record, I'm not an idiot," he muttered to himself, his eyes sharp as they glared down at the Duke. If there was any consolation to the death… it was that Phil could finally feel that marginally bit safer without the Duke as a constant threat.

Dan was a little relieved when Phil agreed to going on a little further. He pressed a kiss to the top of Phil's head before going about packing up their belongings again, ready to get on the move.

"I was right, you know, about his intentions,” Phil added quietly, turning to Dan as he spoke.

Dan hummed in question, tossing a curious glance over his shoulder, but otherwise trying to stay focused on the task at hand; packing up camp, so he and his Prince could get far away from the dead body of the Duke. “How so?”

Phil chuckled humorlessly. “He wanted the throne. He wanted the power. He wanted… he wanted to use me, in whatever means necessary, to take over. He would have -- he would killed to have it.” Phil didn’t want to tell Dan what the Duke had said about his thief, so the words sat heavy on his tongue. “But the witch… he wasn’t working for her. Her gifts come with too hefty a price, he said…” Phil trailed off, turning away from Dan, and stared in disgust down at the Duke’s body once again.

“He would have had me choose. To bad he didn’t realize my choice would always be you.”

Dan’s eyes narrowed. Silent, dangerous anger was curling through his stomach, burning in his veins, and he joined Phil in staring distastefully down at the Duke. Dan had seen death too often in his relatively short life, but this time he couldn’t find it in himself to feel remorse.

The Duke had threatened his Phil. Dan was never going to be ok with that.

“Good job he underestimated you,” Dan agreed, and then crossed to Phil’s side and caught his arm in a tight grip. “I wouldn’t have let him take your power, though. Over my dead body. Literally.”

Phil paled at the thought, so Dan stepped in closer, used his free hand to cup Phil’s cheek. He looked him dead in the eyes and said earnestly, “One threat gone, at least. We know the witch wasn’t working with him. Let’s go get that dragon scale and get home to save your family, hm?”

Phil mellowed a little, and smiled softly. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

His heart was racing at what Dan had said though, the knowledge that the exact same thought had been going through the Duke’s mind… over his dead body. Phil would never have to choose, he just had to remember that. The Duke had no power left, now.

Soon enough, Dan was moving to pack their things back up again, and as soon as he had them all taken care of, he walked steadily back over to Phil side, and took his hand in his, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently. Phil turned to offer him a soft smile in response, and for a moment, Dan truly felt like everything might just actually be okay in the end.

“Well, fuck the Duke. He’s dead. Gone. He can’t bother us anymore. Let’s be on our way,” Dan said, and lead Phil back out to the mountain trail once again. The sun was low enough to be hidden behind the mountains now, the sky cast in dark blues, and the air chilly. There were plenty of other little sheltered spots for them to hide in, though Dan kept his eye out for one that wouldn't set off Phil's panic about enclosed spaces, wanting to keep his Prince feeling safe, especially after a day like today.

"I admit, travelling alone is much nicer than having all those tagalongs, wouldn't you agree?" Dan leaned affectionately against Phil's side, sharing his space.

Despite Phil's exhaustion, he enjoyed getting to be out and about with just Dan again, and he nudged him with a chuckle in reaction to his words.

"Yes. I much prefer to be alone with my thief," he agreed with a small snort, though his smile gave away how he really felt about the idea. His jaw soon cracked on another yawn, however, and he stretched his back a bit by rolling back his shoulders, listening to the joints click pleasantly. He was beyond tired for the day, ready to crash and burn, and just finally… rest.

Clearly amused by Phil, Dan nudged him back. "Come on then, sleepy head. Let's find you shelter. We have a long day ahead of us."

Falling asleep and waking up without the threat of the Duke hanging over their heads anymore was an incredible experience. Phil hadn’t realized just how much weight had been on his shoulders from the Duke alone, and despite knowing how close he and Dan were now getting to the dragon and what they’d be forced to face there, somehow, the road ahead seemed far easier now.

He felt like he could relax that tiny bit more, because instead of two seemingly impossible threats, they now only had one, and while the clock was ticking away on their time to get the dragon scale, Phil felt confident that they could do this. If no one else could, he and his King of Thieves would surely manage. Phil just had to believe that they would get out alive, as he was his kingdom’s last hope…

Phil made breakfast this time, a quick cooking of the leftover meat from last night, that he served to Dan with a sense of urgency in his movements. He knew they were getting close to village two, and then, higher still, they’d hit village three -- the one they suspected to be just on the outskirts of the dragon’s home. If all went to plan, they’d reach the dragon’s lair no later than nightfall, if not sooner still.

Breakfast was shared with a kind of common camaraderie, with a few kisses thrown in between because they could, but soon enough, both Dan and Phil were gathering their things from the small, shaded overhang they’d found last night, and heading forward on their trek through the mountain pass.

They spent the morning teasing each other, giggling about this and that, while they both did their best to focus and learn together about the mountains. Dan knew them a slight bit better than he did the forests, but far less than the desert, and Phil knew nothing of them at all, and yet they worked together as a good team, learning secrets that would keep them safe in the future, should they need them. Phil was sure they’d need them on the trek back downwards, guarding the dragon scale as they would be, but he didn’t say the words aloud lest he jinx the two of them.

It was because of this casual teasing, this learning of information from careful consideration of the terrain and the animals they watched skitter about, that Dan was not only able to spot the next village long before they were within proper eye shot, hidden as they were behind long stalagmites and rock, but he was able to find a way to avoid it entirely.

“There,” Dan whispered to Phil, unsure if there were hunters on the prowl who might hear them, let alone skywalkers, men who could infiltrate the mind of a bird and spy on their enemies below. Phil followed the direction Dan was pointing, and stared harshly into the dusty mountain air.

“Where?” he asked just as quietly. “I see nothing but the village, what are you--?”

“There,” Dan said again, this time a hiss, as he reached for Phil’s face and guided his gaze to -- a narrow pass through the mountain. Phil’s eyes went wide. The sight of it alone was terrifying, and made his chest constrict with fear at the idea of being so encompassed by the Earth. It might not be under ground, but his fear extended to tight spaces, and --

“Phil. Listen to me. It’s our only way. If we want to avoid as much trouble as possible, you have to try for me. I’ll be there every step of the way,” Dan promised, voice low and careful as he spoke to Phil. Phil’s fingers were trembling, and Dan seemed far more aware of that than Phil, as he reached out to comfort him, to settle his nerves. “You’re okay,” Dan promised again. “You’re fine.”

Phil wasn’t so sure he was fine, and yet, he knew Dan was right. If they wanted to avoid any more trouble than they had to, it would be for the best if they used Dan’s shortcut through the mountain and up.

“How do you know it goes through, past the village?” Phil asked. “How do you know it’s safe?”

For a moment, Dan didn’t say a word, and Phil felt his heart clench up in fear. Surely, Dan wouldn’t send them on a mission as risky as this one if he wasn’t certain --

Dan’s hand gripped Phil’s chin again, and he directed his gaze once more, further out of the canyon they were staring at. There, a tiny speck…

“Because I just watched that mountain lion run through it,” he reassured Phil, his eyes dark and glinting with mischief, “and because I am far more observant than you, my Prince, even if you do adore the animals more than me.”

Eyes wide in surprise, Phil could do nothing more than stare after the running speck so far out now that Phil couldn’t quite make him out, and then he was bursting into startled laughter, reaching up to smack a hand over his mouth to cover the sound. Shaking his head, Phil closed his eyes, and pulled himself together with a little sigh.

“You, my thief, are amazing.”

“I know,” Dan shot back with a cheeky grin, but Phil didn’t even mind as he stopped to pull Dan into a soft, warm kiss.

How Phil had ever managed to get so lucky as to find a man like Dan, he would never know, but one thing was for sure; Phil was never letting anyone take him away from him again, not after he’d only just found him. Phil sighed as their lips came together again, and again, and again for a few minutes, before they finally pulled properly apart.

The sun was growing higher in the sky. If they wanted to reach the dragon soon…

“Let’s go,” Phil whispered, an excited but nervous grin of his own on his face now, and took Dan’s hand to cart him on over to the little crevice that would hopefully keep them hidden from the second village on the mountain.

They had to duck behind far more rocks than Phil had ever imagined having to hide behind, skirting their way along the shadowed planes of the mountain pass, out of sight and out of mind from those who would seek to find them, but they managed. The mountain crevice turned out to be far closer than Phil was anticipating, as well, and soon enough, they were stood just outside the shell of it, peering down its narrow entryway and into the shadows within that hid its secrets, even with the sun pouring down its light upon them.

Gulping at the sight, Phil snatched Dan’s hand in his once again, beginning to feel his throat close up that way it did when he had to face this particular fear, and whispered to Dan, “Don’t let go of my hand. No matter what.”

There was no hesitation in Dan’s voice when he replied, “Never.”

Despite the terror, and the way that his body trembled, the way his eyes began to water already with the fear, Phil held himself tall, and began to move forward.

And so they went, taking the first terrifying steps into an unknown place they only assumed was safe because a mountain lion had managed to run through from one end to the other without any seeming interruption. Still, Phil knew it was their only choice if they wanted to make it to the dragon. Should they be so lucky, they might be able to brave the villages on the way down, but the two would have to face that hurdle when it came.

For now, they would avoid the middle village if only to save their strength for a battle with the third, closest to the top of the mountain they were currently scaling, and closest to the dragon lair itself. They would be the most fanatic in serving their lord and master, and Phil knew it would take everything to get past them, but he would not stop there. He would find a way to get a fresh dragon scale and save his family before the next three weeks were up if it was the last thing he ever did.

The crevice was just as dark on the inside, though from time to time, it would wind just enough that Dan and Phil could see a bit of sun shining light down upon the path ahead. It was steep, and just as hard a walk as the mountain pass outside it, if not more, with Dan and Phil having to scale over rock after boulder in their path, and yet, that was enough distraction to almost make Phil forget how close together the walls were. His chest was tight, his breathing uneven, but there was Dan holding his hand every step of the way, and the trees and animals lurking in their branches were just loud enough to keep Phil interested in what they might be.

They were careful never to disturb a nest, or a creature as it lay in its den, but it was difficult in such a narrow space, and more than once, Phil thought he and Dan were done for for sure. His leg came down too hard on a rock as he landed from a fall over a boulder he and Dan had climbed, and the sound of a rattler scared them both so deeply that they froze in place and refused to move an inch until they saw the snake slither away between the very rocks they’d only just scaled seconds before.

Letting out a breath of relief, the two continued on their way through the darkness, and hoped that soon, very soon, they’d reach the end.

Phil would never know how they managed it, what with the way his chest constricting left him both breathless and dizzy for a good portion of their journey, but one second, Phil was praying that they’d finally leave this hell, and the next, they were pressing out from the crevice on the other side of the second village, and into the bright afternoon sunlight.

Instantly, Phil was letting go of Dan’s hand to collapse to the floor and take in deep lungfuls of air, the panic quickly taking hold now that he was free from the confines from earlier. He could feel the terror grip his heart and nearly rip straight through him, only now, he couldn’t quite manage to make it stop. He could feel his heart trying to beat right out of his chest, his head somehow growing even more dizzy, when he realized that he needed to get himself under control before he completely blacked out.

“Daniel, Daniel,” Phil managed to gasp, reaching up for Dan’s hand, which found his almost as instantly as Dan’s other arm came up around his shoulders. “Count -- three,” Phil managed, and did his best to concentrate, to wait for Dan to do just that. He just needed something to hold onto, to keep himself together. It had been so long now, since this had happened, but never before had Phil braved his fear for as long as he had this day.

He couldn’t be more proud of himself, but also… he just needed to get himself under control.

“...Three….One...Two...Three,” Dan was mumbling, low and straight into Phil’s ear, the feel of his breathing even and undistressed from beside Phil, and something that Phil could cling onto if he’d just give himself the moment to do so. His eyes were screwed tight and closed, and his chest was heavy against his body, but he was trying dammit, no one could say that he wasn’t trying. He just had to focus, and focus he did, as best as he could, on the way that Dan kept his breathing even, and he counted out a slow steady stream of numbers that Phil used to force himself to breathe.

Never before had Phil had someone to walk him through a panic attack, but as the tears began to fall, never before had he felt so -- happy.

He had someone now, someone who would take care of him and not make him go through this on his own. Someone he could share his deepest, darkest fears with, and who wouldn’t turn on him in an instant to use those fears against him. Phil finally had someone that he could love unconditionally, and who could love him just as equally back, and he’d never felt so good in his life, especially in the midst of a panic attack.

Dan circled his arms around Phil and cradled him, still counting in his ear. Fear clutched at Dan’s heart, but he refused to let it show, and for once he was thankful that he was a healer’s son as he remembered well enough what to do in situations like this. He just needed to give Phil the space and time to relax and remember he was safe again, and stay by his side the whole time.

That, Dan could do easily, even with guilt gripping at his heart that he’d forced them to go through such a tiny, narrow passageway.

“One… two… three…” Dan continued to count, his tone as low and soft as he could make it. He’d lowered Phil down to the ground and had one arm looped over his shoulders, his thumb rubbing a soothing, even rhythm against Phil’s arm. The pass had been unpleasant for both of them, but for Phil, it was so much worse, with no space around for him to breathe.

So Dan just held him and counted aloud, and waited for it to pass.

It took some time, it always did, for Phil to calm down, but eventually he managed it. His head refused to stop spinning, but he was getting his breathing under control, and after a few moments, he was even able to look up and stare at Dan, just to keep himself anchored to something other than the terrifying darkness behind his eyes. Dan didn’t stop counting, not even for a second, not even when he began to sound like he was growing a bit breathless himself from the steady stream of words, and for that, Phil was grateful.

When his breathing was under control, Phil used his grip on Dan’s hand to squeeze at his fingers, and began to shift away, hoping Dan would get the hint that he could stop now. He did, his voice coming to an abrupt stop as he looked down at Phil with a face so pale, Phil might have thought he’d died.

“Phil…” Dan whispered, reaching up with calloused fingers to wipe away the tear tracks on his face. “I’m --”

But Phil cut him off before he could continue, shaking his head fervently. “No. Shush. Don’t apologize to me, Dan. I did what I had to do.”

Phil’s words were still a little breathless, a little more weak than he might have wanted them to be, but he wasn’t going to let something as silly as a panic attack get him down. He was weak, sure, and usually an attack of this magnitude left him exhausted for the day, but Phil didn’t have the luxury of time to waste right now. He had to pull himself together and get to the next village.

He had to save his family.

“I’m okay.”

Dan offered Phil an almost bitter smile in return to that, and he used his grip on Phil’s face to swipe under his eyes one more time before drawing Phil in for a quick kiss. His lips trembled against Phil’s, as if he’d been afraid, and the thought of that was… both horrible, and amazing, to Phil.

Dan’s mouth was tender against his, adoring in the way that it took, sincere in its emotion. Phil almost expected for Dan to be crying when he pulled away, but he wasn’t. Instead, he smiled once more at Phil, and whispered, “My brave Prince.”

Grinning, exhausted, Phil shrugged at Dan.

“I suppose so,” he replied, simple as ever. Dan chuckled and rolled his eyes, drawing Phil in one more time for another kiss, before patting him lightly on the cheek.

“You’re an idiot,” Dan replied fondly. “Are you okay now?” he asked almost immediately as a follow up, eyes turning shrewd once more. “Do we need to take a rest? We can find shelter, finish the journey tomorrow --”

“No!” Phil shouted, interrupting Dan once more. “After all that we just did to get here? Hell, no, Dan. We continue. Right now.”

Dan looked stony, like he was about to argue, and Phil cut him off once more before he could. Standing quickly, and nearly losing his balance for it, Phil righted himself, and hoisted the two packs on his shoulders up further once more.

“If you don’t come with me, then I guess I’ll just have to go after the dragon on my own,” he said, and without wasting another moment, began walking forward, up the mountain pass once more. He could see where it formed, even here, a few meters out from the line of the village. He could get back on track easily enough on his own.

Of course, almost instantly, Phil heard the sound of Dan scrambling to follow him, and tried not to let the relief show as Dan caught up with him.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Dan muttered, catching up with Phil rather quickly. “Course I’m coming with you, you stubborn fool.” His fingers weaved back through Phil’s, and he squeezed so tightly that Phil knew his thief understood.

They didn’t have any more time to waste. What if this didn’t work? He wanted to get home as soon as possible, that way, if the sorcerer had been lying, they wouldn’t be completely fucked and out of time before they could find some other cure.

What, Phil didn’t know, so he’d just have to hope and pray that this would work in the end.

#phanfiction #iwritephanthings #snowbunnylester #phan fluff #phan AU #steal my heart

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newstfionline · 4 years

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Amid coronavirus news, many need to step away (AP) Heidi Van Roekel makes instructional art videos for YouTube when coronavirus news overwhelms her. Bill Webb takes his boat out. Stacy Mitchell searches her TV for something—anything—to make her laugh. It’s no surprise that news outlets are in demand with a story that directly affects so many people, whether they’ve gotten sick, lost jobs or are locked down at home. A Pew Research Center survey taken the third week of April found that 88 percent of Americans said they were following coronavirus news either very or fairly closely. Yet that takes a toll. Pew also found that 71 percent of Americans said that they need to take breaks from the news. To watch something else. To do something else. To breathe a little. Mitchell says she hit a wall after watching daily news briefings about the virus. “It was just COVID-19 overload,” Mitchell said. “I was very anxious. I had a full-blown anxiety attack and I decided that I was not going to watch more of that stuff.” Roxane Cohen Silver, Dana Rose Garfin and E. Alison Holman, researchers at the University of California at Irvine who have been studying the affect of prolonged media exposure to bad news following the Sept. 11, 2001 terrorist attacks, wrote an article for Health Psychology magazine in February—before coronavirus was even on the radar for many Americans—warning of this effect. People who watch too much can have nightmares, feelings of anxiety and symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder, Silver said. “People should make a conscious effort to monitor their exposure,” Silver said.

White-Collar Companies Race to Be Last to Return to the Office (NYT) Even as President Trump has said “we have to get our country open again,” much of corporate America is in no rush to return employees to their campuses and skyscrapers. The companies are racing not to be the first back, but the last. An increasing number of them, which mostly have white-collar employees, have recently extended work-from-home policies far beyond the shelter-in-place timelines mandated by state and local authorities. Google and Facebook employees were told Thursday that they could stay home until next year. Capital One informed 40,000 workers that they will be out through Labor Day and possibly longer. Amazon is saying October. Nationwide Insurance is moving more aggressively than other firms, shuttering five offices around the country and having its 4,000 employees telecommute permanently. Even after the coronavirus no longer requires it, working from home is likely to retain a significant presence in corporate life. It will affect the shape of cities and the commercial real-estate industry, and change the culture at companies that for years have been building elaborate temples for their workers.

The Airline Business Is Terrible. It Will Probably Get Even Worse. (NYT) Delta Air Lines started 2020 celebrating what it said was the most successful year in company history. Not long after, it shared a record $1.6 billion in profits with its 90,000 employees. But with air travel nearly shut down by the coronavirus, the airline is now bleeding money and will drop 10 more airports from its already skeletal network on Wednesday. Even as Delta and the other major airlines in the United States dramatically slash schedules, they are averaging an anemic 23 passengers on each domestic flight and losing $350 million to $400 million a day as expenses like payroll, rent and aircraft maintenance far exceed the money they are bringing in. Passenger traffic is down about 94 percent and half of the industry’s 6,215 planes are parked at major airports and desert airstrips, according to Airlines for America, a trade group. Yet, devastating as the downturn has been, the future is even more bleak. With much of the world closed for business, and no widely available vaccine in sight, it may be months, if not years, before airlines operate as many flights as they did before the crisis. Even when people start flying again, the industry could be transformed, much as it was after the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. And airline executives need only look in the not-distant past to see how lesser crises sank carriers that were household names like Pan Am and Trans World Airlines.

Native American tribes erect checkpoints (Washington Post) Native American tribes have put up checkpoints to prevent the coronavirus from spreading across their reservations. Both the Oglala Sioux and Cheyenne River Sioux tribes have erected temporary checkpoints to monitor the flow of traffic through their reservations and alert visitors that both a curfew and stay-at-home order are in place. The Cheyenne River Sioux record some information for contact tracing purposes, but say that commercial drivers are allowed to pass through the reservation, according to the Rapid City Journal. The Oglala Sioux block nonresidents from visiting the Pine Ridge Reservation if they don’t have essential business there, but say that anyone is allowed to drive through. Many Native American tribes worry that preexisting health disparities could make them particularly vulnerable to the coronavirus. The death toll on the Navajo Nation, which has been devastated by the pandemic, reached 100 on Sunday.

Coronavirus and the White House (AP) The Trump administration’s leading health experts on safely dealing with the novel coronavirus will be testifying in a Senate hearing by a videoconference this week after three of them and the committee’s chairmen were exposed to people who tested positive for COVID-19. Adding to a string of potentially awkward moments for President Donald Trump, Vice President Mike Pence himself self-isolated for the weekend after a staff member tested positive for COVID-19. Pence leads Trump’s coronavirus task force. The White House has moved to shore up its protection protocols to protect the nation’s political leaders. Trump said that some staffers who interact with him closely would now be tested daily. Pence told reporters that both he and Trump would now be tested daily as well. Kevin Hassett, an adviser to Trump and the former chairman of the Council of Economic Advisers, acknowledged Sunday it’s “scary to go to work” in the White House, calling the West Wing a “small, crowded place. It’s, you know, a little bit risky.”

Liberté, égalité, hypocrisie (NYT) France, the originator of the burqa ban, has done more than any other Western nation over the past decade to resist face coverings in public. But as the country begins to emerge from its coronavirus lockdown on Monday, face masks are mandatory. People are required to wear masks in high schools and on public transportation—or risk being fined. Shopkeepers also have the right to ask customers to wear masks or to please leave. Artificial-intelligence-integrated video cameras will be monitoring overall compliance on the Paris Metro. All this has been accepted with little commentary or controversy. A recent BFMTV poll found that 94 percent of people in France supported wearing masks. That France has reported more than 26,000 coronavirus deaths no doubt contributes to that acceptance. But many Muslims, religious freedom advocates and scholars see a great deal of irony in a society that has made such a virtue of uncovered faces suddenly requiring faces to be covered. “If you are Muslim and you hide your face for religious reasons, you are liable to a fine and a citizenship course where you will be taught what it is to be ‘a good citizen,’ ” said Fatima Khemilat, a fellow at the Political Science Institute of Aix-en-Provence. “But if you are a non-Muslim citizen in the pandemic, you are encouraged and forced as a ‘good citizen’ to adopt ‘barrier gestures’ to protect the national community.”

Ukraine’s hospitals under strain, even with few virus cases (AP) Medical workers in homemade protective masks and suits, with plastic bags over their shoes. A hospital intended for 150 coronavirus patients now holding 250. A lack of filtration systems that forces autopsies to be done outside, under the trees, instead of in the hospital morgue. Ukraine’s troubled health care system has been overwhelmed by COVID-19, even though it has reported a relatively low number of cases—15,232 infections and 391 deaths as of Sunday. Thousands of Ukrainians who had temporary jobs in Europe have returned home amid the pandemic and some brought the virus back with them. As COVID-19 patients flood into the struggling hospitals, some doctors and nurses must buy their own protective gear or use improvised equipment. Many of them are getting sick: medical workers account for about a fifth of all coronavirus cases in Ukraine.

Russia’s Putin declares end to economic shutdown (AP) Russian President Vladimir Putin has declared an end to a nationwide partial economic shutdown but noted that some restrictions will remain. Putin, speaking in a televised address to the nation Monday, said that it will be up to regional governors in the far-flung Russian Federation to determine what industrial plants could reopen starting Tuesday. He emphasized that it’s essential to preserve jobs and keep the economy running provided that workers strictly observe sanitary norms. Putin ordered the economic shutdown in late March, although key industrial plants and some other sectors have been allowed to continue operating. Most Russians have been ordered to stay home, except for visits to nearby stores, pharmacies and visits to doctors. Moscow will allow all of its industrial plants and construction sites to resume work starting Tuesday, and Putin said other regions may follow the example. Non-food stores, hairdressers, car dealers and most other enterprises in the services sector remain shut.

India’s trains get ready to roll again (AP) India’s train network, one of the world’s largest, will gradually restart operations on Tuesday as the country eases its coronavirus lockdown amid a steep rise in infections. India’s train network, closed in late March when a strict nationwide lockdown was implemented, will be the first mode of transport to resume in the country of 1.3 billion people. Passengers would have to wear masks and undergo health screenings before being permitted to board, the railway ministry has said. Only asymptomatic passengers will be allowed on trains, which will make fewer stops than usual. The railway system is often described as India’s lifeline, transporting 23 million people across the vast subcontinent each day, some 8.4 billion passengers each year.

China refutes U.S. allegations (Foreign Policy) On Saturday night, China’s Foreign Ministry mounted a defense from repeated U.S. claims of a Chinese cover-up surrounding the origins of coronavirus by posting a 30,000 word rebuttal on its website. It begins by quoting a phrase often attributed to Abraham Lincoln: “As Lincoln said, you can fool some of the people all the time and fool all the people some of the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time.”

Iran navy hits own ship with missile, kills 19 near Persian Gulf waters (Washington Post) The incident occurred during a training exercise near the strategic Strait of Hormuz amid deep tensions with the United States.

Lebanon’s Economic Crisis Explodes, Threatening Decades of Prosperity (NYT) Flawed policies and sudden shocks have thrust Lebanon into its worst economic crisis in decades, with its currency collapsing, businesses shutting, prices for basic goods skyrocketing and the threat of hunger looming for its poorest people. Lebanese have long stood out in the Middle East for not letting political upheaval or civil violence get in the way of enjoying the finer things in life. Night clubs and hotels stayed open though wars, and while the tap water was undrinkable and the electric grid unreliable, even the middle class could afford nice clothes, low-paid maids from Ethiopia or the Philippines and occasional foreign vacations. Underlying that lifestyle was a longstanding government policy that kept the value of the Lebanese pound pegged to the U.S. dollar, allowing the Lebanese to interact seamlessly with the world economy. But that system has unraveled in recent months, fueling an economic collapse that has been exacerbated by a government-imposed lockdown aimed at stopping the spread of the coronavirus. Analysts warn that the downturn could pauperize the middle class, making it that much harder for the country to recover. “There are many sins and many sinners,” said Roy Badaro, a Lebanese economist. “The sins of the past have to be paid for today and in the future, so there is a distribution of pain to cover the costs.” The result will be, he said, “a serious downgrade in lifestyle.”

Saudi Arabia triples taxes, cuts $26B in costs amid pandemic (AP) Saudi Arabia has tripled taxes on basic goods, raising them to 15%, and has announced spending cuts of around $26 billion as it grapples with blows from the coronavirus pandemic and low oil prices on its economy.

Libya conflict escalates (Foreign Policy) Libya’s civil war intensified over the weekend as the Libyan National Army (LNA), led by Khalifa Haftar, bombarded Tripoli with artillery fire. Haftar’s forces have been trying to wrest control of Tripoli away from the internationally backed Government of National Accord (GNA) for the past 13 months. Tripoli’s remaining airport was targeted on Saturday by rockets that destroyed fuel tanks and caused shrapnel to come close to a passenger jet preparing for takeoff. Writing in Foreign Policy in March, Jalel Harchaoui predicted such an escalation, warning that “Yet another clash between the two main Libya camps is now brewing, and events in recent weeks suggest that the fighting will be more devastating than at any time before.” In April, Emadeddin Badi pointed a finger at the UAE, arguing in FP that “Emirati support effectively affords Haftar complete impunity on the international stage.”

#headlines #news

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esprit-de-corps-magazine · 4 years

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Canada & Russia’s Common Legacy: Victory over Nazi Germany

by H.E. Ambassador Alexander Darchiev - Embassy of the Russian Federation in Canada

As Hitler’s lair in Berlin fell to the Red Army, and Nazi Germany unconditionally surrendered to the USSR and the Allied powers on the night of May 9th, 1945, the cruelest and deadliest war in the world’s history came to an end.

This year we celebrate the 75th anniversary of this glorious date by paying tribute to our fallen heroes, and to the many millions of victims tortured and exterminated by the Nazi death machine.

For the Soviet people it was the Great Patriotic War and the epic battle for survival. According to Hitler’s Generalplan Ost, the European part of the USSR should have been completely cleansed of Jews, Russians and other “non-Aryan” ethnicities labeled as subhumans to provide Lebensraum (living space) for eventual Germanization of this conquered territory.

By amassing a massive invasion force and mobilizing the military-industrial potential of conquered Europe, Nazis arrogantly put stakes on a surprise blitzkrieg assault upon the USSR in the early hours of Sunday, June 22, 1941. The scale of the attack by German and Axis powers’ forces was unprecedented as it erupted along a 2900-kilometer front with more than 4 million troops, 4,600 tanks, up to 5,000 aircraft and 50,000 artillery pieces.

Over a series of fierce battles, starting from the border - where Soviet defenders of the Brest fortress continued fighting for almost a month, even after the German frontline had pushed a hundred kilometers eastward – Germany’s self-confidence in its invincibility faded away. During the initial offensive, the Nazi forces failed to capture Leningrad and they were stopped on the outskirts of Moscow just 25 kilometres short of the Kremlin.

The whole world breathlessly waited for the outcome of the Moscow battle. Highly inspiring was the traditional November 7th, 1941 military parade on the Red Square which demonstrated to everyone that Russian capital remained unvanquished. Shortly after this the Red Army delivered a devastating blow to the previously undefeated Wehrmacht in a major counteroffensive which pushed the Germans back.

By the spring of 1942, the Germans changed their strategy and attempted to crush Soviet defenses by seizing the Caucasus and Caspian oilfields as well as cutting vital supply routes from the south to Moscow. Hitler took aim at Stalingrad, a key industrial and transportation center on the Volga river.

The battle of Stalingrad which lasted from August 23, 1942 to February 2, 1943, was the largest and bloodiest clash in the history of warfare, with an estimated 2 million total casualties on both sides. Together with almost 100 thousand German troops, 24 generals and their commander Field Marshal Paulus were taken prisoners. As a result, Hitler’s dreams to defeat the USSR miserably failed and the tide of war turned westward.

Amidst fierce fightings in summer 1942, as German tanks were rushing toward the Volga river, with the Soviet troops struggling hard to shore up their crumbling frontline, Canadian Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King sent encouraging greetings on behalf of men and women of Canada to “the gallant peoples of the Soviet Union”. Stressing that “today our nations fight side by side”, Mackenzie King praised the “forcefulness and determination” of the Red Army “which have aroused the profound admiration of the civilized world”.

It was in this spirit of solidarity that the USSR and Canada established diplomatic relations on June 12, 1942.

Canada’s contribution to the war efforts of the anti-Hitler coalition was widely known and appreciated in the Soviet Union. The weekly magazine “British Ally” published in Russian by the UK Ministry of Information offered stories about Canadian operations, including the dramatic Dieppe raid in August 1942 (intended to test waters for a future landing in France) and the liberation of Sicily in August 1943.

A special praise and admiration has always been extended in Russia to the heroic Canadian sailors who braved the perilous Murmansk Run convoys to deliver weaponry and supplies in support of the USSR. These important missions from the sea ports of Saint John’s and Halifax to the Russian Artic harbours of Murmansk and Archangelsk took a heavy toll. Eighty-five Allied merchant vessels and 16 warships were lost to heavy German attacks. One particularly ill-fated convoy – PQ17 – lost 24 out of 35 ships at a cost of 153 lives.

Alex Polowin is one of those Canadian heroes. He joined the Navy in 1942 at the age of 17 and he currently resides in Ottawa. In 2013 Polowin was recognized for the noble service with the Russian medal which is named in honour of Admiral Fyodor Ushakov.

Mr. Polowin, whose name is now given to one of Ottawa’s streets said in an interview that “he’s fiercely proud of his contribution” to the war effort.

Another important Canadian input to the USSR’s war effort was the delivery of 1388 British designed Valentine infantry tanks which were assembled under licence in Montreal at the Angus railway shops. They took part, along with the famous Soviet T-34 tanks, in many of the Red Army operations, including the largest ever tank battle at the Kursk Bulge in July 1943. Kursk was the largest tank battle in history, and when the dust settled the Germans had suffered fatal defeat. From that point onward the Wehrmacht could only retreat.

By the end of 1943 the ground was literally burning under the feet of Nazi invaders. Around one million USSR citizens, young and old, men and women, who were located in the Nazi occupied territories were actively involved as partisans in a fierce underground struggle. This spirit of resistance and Red Army battlefield victories inspired prisoners of Nazi death camps and Jewish ghettos to revolt against the torturers and butchers of the Holocaust. Their anthem was the “Partisan song” which includes the lyrics “never say there is only death for you” penned by Girsh Glick, a young poet who escaped the Vilna ghetto and was later captured and executed by Germans. Most notable and the only successful uprising of its kind was the one at Sobibor concentration camp in 1943 which was led by the courageous Soviet officer Alexander Pechersky.

Symbolizing the courage and stamina of these defenders of the Motherland, their deep conviction that “ours is a righteous cause”, as proclaimed by Soviet Foreign Minister Vyacheslav Molotov in his radio address on June 22, 1941, was the heroic death of General Dmitry Karbyshev. Starting his service in the Russian Imperial Army, he was later promoted to the rank of Lieutenant General of the Corps of Engineers in the Red Army. His manuals on the theory of engineering, battlefield operations and tactics were mandatory reading for Soviet commanders.

Captured by the Nazis after being rendered unconscious in combat in August 1941, General Karbyshev was held in succession of concentration camps. He refused to collaborate with his captors and despite his advanced age, led the camp’s underground movement. On February 18, 1945 Germans executed him at the notorious Mauthausen death camp by dousing him with ice water and then leaving him to expire in the freezing cold. This inhuman murder was witnessed and later testified to by a Canadian Army Major Seddon de Saint-Clair who survived captivity at the same place and unfortunately died a year after his liberation in a UK hospital.

Starting in January 1944, ten strategic Soviet offensives along the huge frontline from the Arctic to the Black Sea drove the Nazi forces out of the USSR’s territory paving the way for the liberation of Eastern Europe. The Wehrmacht’s resounding defeat near Leningrad fully relieved that long besieged city’s barbaric blockade during which close to one million inhabitants died from shelling and hunger. The Nazis and their satellites were expelled from the Soviet Ukraine and the Baltic states, with Finland, then a German ally, exiting the war. The 1944 Soviet victory in Belarus wherein 28 of 34 German divisions were completely destroyed, allowed the Red Army to secure a bridgehead for the final strike on Berlin.

The Hitler regime found itself between a rock and a hard place, with the Western Allies having finally opened the long awaited second front in Europe when they landed on June 6, 1944 in Normandy. Once ashore, the allied expeditionary force pushed through France, Belgium, the Netherlands and started to advance towards the German Rhineland. Overcoming heavy German resistance, Soviet troops successfully forced the Nazis out of Romania, Poland, Yugoslavia, Hungary, Austria and Czechoslovakia. After two weeks and two days of massive storming Berlin fell on May 2, 1945 to the Red Army.

Symbolically, on this very day the first direct contact between Russian soldiers and Canadian paratroopers from the 1st Canadian Parachute Battalion happened in the northern German city of Wismar. Several days earlier, on April 25, 1945, the historic encounter of Soviet and US troops occurred at the Elbe river marking the long-awaited link-up of the Allies' Eastern and Western fronts. Despite later biased interpretations influenced by the Cold War politics, these were the true and unforgettable moments of unity and happiness that the common deadly foe was finally vanquished.

Germans signed the instrument of unconditional surrender in Karlhorst, Berlin on May 9th, 1945 at the ceremony presided over by Soviet Marshal Georgy Zhukov in the presence of US, British and French generals. This date which is sacred and deeply meaningful for every Russian family has been celebrated ever since as Victory Day in Russia and most of the former USSR. Remarkably, Israel has also made it a national holiday expressing the gratitude of Shoah survivors and the Jewish people.

The Victory was won at an enormous price. The Soviet Union lost 27 million lives, of whom only one third were military losses, while millions of civilians became victims of mass brutal killings, bombardments and hunger both on occupied territories and in concentration camps.

Without the bravery and solidarity of the USSR and the Allied nations, Nazism would have never been destroyed. Echoing other world leaders, Prime Minister Mackenzie King congratulated Joseph Stalin on May 13, 1945 with the warm message stating that Canada will never forget “the tenacity and the heroism of the armies and the peoples of the USSR”.

Let us remember well this important history lesson that global challenges can only be overcome by acting together putting aside political divisions, phobias and short-sighted ambitions. WWII experience should not fall victim to pro-Nazi revisionism or be thrown into oblivion. For the sake of peace and the well-being of future generations.

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terrim-lockdown-diary · 4 years

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Day Five: 31 March 2020

On safari!

It is Day 5 and 15:00. I have just taken an afternoon nap. This is quite uncharacteristic, I must add. But then I remind myself that there is nothing normal about my being at home on the day that I would have returned to school after the term break. I try to ignore the CV words and I have avoided the TV all day. So I have no current update on the state of affairs in South Africa or anywhere else in the world. For the time being I will keep it that way.

On my way to make a cup of coffee, I notice that my husband is engrossed in a movie. Now that sport has virtually come to a standstill, he has limited options. My son, is nowhere to be seen. I look outside for Gypsy, my Labrador. She too has hived off somewhere in the garden. So hopes for a quick chat had to be halted for the time being. Ah! Perhaps not. My roses. And they do not answer back. Even better. I have more than 25 varieties of roses that require a lot of care. I would rather die (sorry, bad choice of hyperbole in current times, but you know what I mean), than divulge how much it costs me to maintain them. I must add, that in the lockdown they have provided immense joy to me. So I decided to indulge in a little chat while I water them.

Little did I realise how this simple activity would take me on a mini safari. As I watered the roses, Gypsy arrived from her adventures and joined me. She usually does this and I have grown to enjoy this little bonding session with her every day. She noses her way alongside me, darts over to a butterfly, barks at Bella, the husky next door, with whom she has a love-hate relationship and she waits expectantly for our daily ritual of me suddenly spraying water on her and her looking at me with great disappointment that I could use her as the object of my entertainment. I love Gypsy, but I must add, like a true member of this family, she is quite a character, with a quirky personality of her own.

As we approached the stretch of my front lawn, I noticed that Gypsy’s demeanour suddenly changed. She became absolutely still, her left hind leg was raised and she was totally focused on something in the grass. I stopped watering. She sprung forward and just as quickly stopped. She stepped back, raised her hind leg again, in readiness to lunge forward and assumed a demeanour of absolute concentration. Now picture this scene. The predator is stalking the prey. Gypsy, at that moment, with her beige colouring, easily resembled a lion in the African bush. I stood stock still, the equivalent of the game ranger, heart beating fast, watching in wonder. Is this going to be a kill? Am I going to witness something to tell other rangers over a camp fire? In my case, this would translate to my telling the story to my family, all wildlife enthusiasts, over the braai stand on a Sunday.

Gypsy lunged! I noticed that she had in her grip a small creature I could not see clearly. And like a true ranger, I did not move, did not call out to her. I just stood, enthralled at the scene playing out in front of me. If truth be told I also did not move because I am in abject terror of rodents and suspected that the creature in Gypsy’s grip was the mole that has been the object of her obsession over the past few days. Between paw and mouth Gypsy grappled with the creature. By this time my paralysis disappears. I abandon hosepipe, dog and the lion and prey analogy and rush into the house to call my husband, my saviour in moments like these. He knows about my phobia for rodents. He always comes to my defence but also never fails, together with my children, to have a good laugh at my expense about this. How can you be afraid of such a small thing which is more terrified of you? Hello? This is what a phobia is. It has no basis in logic. But I can live with this, as long as he comes to my rescue, which he does, every time.

I took refuge inside the house. After a while, my husband returned to say that it was indeed Gypsy’s mole. He managed to rescue it from Gypsy and send it on its way down the road, to wreak havoc in someone else’s garden. I can only imagine the tales with which Mr Mole will regale his companions at the daily Mole briefing, of this terrifying monster called Gypsy that lives in a lovely rose garden. And this will be how Gypsy will acquire her legendary status in Mole country on a balmy lockdown day.

There was no hiding from reality anymore. I watched the news and saw that Spain had recorded its highest death toll thus far on this day; that there was no respite from the virus in Europe. The UK and the US were also hurtling in the same direction. There were disquieting scenes from India and South Africa, of their challenges with social distancing and possible human rights abuses by the police and army. The evening news recorded 5 deaths in South Africa. Later I heard that further deaths occurred, of a professor at the helm of HIV research and an educator from a primary school. And the underlying feeling of unease changed to real fear for the future. I immediately phoned my daughter with strict instructions not to leave her apartment. We have so little control at times like this and for a self-confessed control freak, I was panicked. But I soon calmed down, as I knew I had to, and understood that in times like these we have to be careful, stay at home, practise social distancing, and be responsible for ourselves and, in this way, responsible for all those around us.

On this night I have to consciously remind myself that I have a lot to be grateful for. My day ends in prayer for my family, my country and my world.

#southafrica #safari #coronavirus #corona #quarantine #lockdown #salockdown

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ebola-chan-love · 4 years

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The Coronavirus Pandemic Is An Engineered ‘Black Swan Event’ Released To Tear Down The Existing Global System And Create New World Order

We are watching the coronavirus pandemic being used to collapse the existing global system to make way for the coming New World Order, and nothing will ever again be the same.

As you read this, over one-third of the world is on lockdown, with more countries issuing the order by the day. The morgues in New York City are filled to capacity, with no place to store the dead bodies. Officials were told that morgues in the city are expected to reach capacity next week, per the briefing. A third person familiar with the situation in New York said some of the city’s hospital morgues hit capacity in the past seven days. Hawaii and North Carolina have asked for mortuary help as well, and the disaster response agency is currently reviewing the requests.

“For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places. All these are the beginning of sorrows.” Matthew 24: 7,8 (KJB)

The world is changing right now, it is changing economically, financially and socially, to such a degree that one can only surmise watching this that a New World Order is preparing to rise up from the ashes of the coronavirus crisis. Never in modern history has there been such a volatile reaction to an infectious outbreak. AIDS, SARS, Ebola, West Nile Virus, and Swine Flu didn’t come anywhere near the level of panic we are seeing now. What we are watching is an event that is absolutely unique in our modern era, and could quite possibly be unique in human history. Not the virus, the reaction to the virus.

Take A Look At Today’s Random Headline Sampling And See For Yourself:

Those who intentionally spread coronavirus could be charged as terrorists

Thousands of inmates released as jails face coronavirus threat

NHS nurse stuck in Cambodia begs Boris Johnson to bring her home saying she is ‘near meltdown’ as dozens of families stranded abroad turn to crowdfunding to pay for flights

Netanyahu threatens total lockdown as coronavirus infects 2,369 Israelis

China Uses Coronavirus Crisis to Bulldoze Churches and Temples

The U.S. may end up with the worst COVID-19 outbreak in the industrialized world.

How the World Will Look After the Coronavirus Pandemic

According to Rasmussen Reports, “between 750,000 and 1.1 million Americans may die of this disease before it runs its course. The latter figure is equal to all the U.S. dead in World War II and on both sides in the Civil War. Chancellor Angela Merkel warns that 70% of Germany’s population — 58 million people — could contract the coronavirus. If she is right, and Fauci’s mortality rate holds for her country, that could mean more than half a million dead Germans. If Fauci’s 1% mortality rate and Lipsitch’s estimate prove on target, between 3 billion and 5 billion people on earth will be infected, and 30 million to 50 million will die, a death toll greater than that of the Spanish Flu of 1918.”

NTEB RADIO BIBLE STUDY: IS THERE A SPIRIT BEHIND THE COVID-19 CORONAVIRUS GLOBAL PANIC THAT IS ABOUT TO BRING IN THE NEW WORLD ORDER?

But the real story is not in the mortality rate as all pandemics are harsh when it comes to that. In 20019. Obama’s Swine Flu outbreak wound up generating over 60 million infections globally, resulting in 12,469 deaths in the United States, and guess what? No masks, no quarantines, no lock-downs, no panic. The real story is the panic and actions being taken by world governments that are bringing about hyper-radical change.

MASSIVE EARTHQUAKE IN UTAH IS LATEST EVENT IN A SERIES OF EVENTS THAT BEGAN ON JANUARY 1ST AND IS STARTING TO LOOK LIKE MATTHEW 24 BIRTH PANGS

Isn’t anyone even the slightest bit suspicious about how fast this $2 trillion dollar bailout came into being? It’s almost like they already had the paperwork drawn up! By the time it’s done, it will be the largest, single government bailout in human history, all this for a virus that runs it’s course in a couple of months? The Spanish Flu of 1918 killed over 50,000,000 people in a single year, the coronavirus even with worse-case predictions will not amount to a fraction of that. And yet, the entire world is on lockdown, why now?

We are watching the coronavirus pandemic being used to collapse the existing global system to make way for the coming New World Order, nothing will ever again be the same. The coronavirus is real, people are actually dying, and you need to protect yourself and your loved ones the best you can. But this panic, this rush to throw trillions at the problem is absolutely manufactured, I don’t believe a bit of it. Under the guise of the coronavirus pandemic, power is being seized within the United States, and it will not be returned to the people. If the United States falls, the whole world will fall, and a new world order will emerge from the ashes.

The Great Awakening Part 3

As with the last video I shared with you, some of this I agree with and some of it I do not. But watching it will make you think, and that is a good thing. Look around at what is really happening, use the intellect God gave you, you’ll figure it out. I did.

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The post The Coronavirus Pandemic Is An Engineered ‘Black Swan Event’ Released To Tear Down The Existing Global System And Create New World Order appeared first on Now The End Begins.

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vsplusonline · 4 years

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Coronavirus: U.S. inches closer to shutdown as COVID-19 deaths rise to 64

New Post has been published on https://apzweb.com/coronavirus-u-s-inches-closer-to-shutdown-as-covid-19-deaths-rise-to-64/

Coronavirus: U.S. inches closer to shutdown as COVID-19 deaths rise to 64

Officials across the United States curtailed many elements of American life to fight the coronavirus outbreak on Sunday, with health officials recommending that groups of 50 or more don’t get together and a government expert saying a 14-day national shutdown may be needed.

Governors were closing restaurants, bars, and schools as the nation sank deeper into chaos over the crisis. Travellers returning home from overseas trips were stuck in line for hours at major airports for screenings, causing them to be crammed into just the kind of crowded spaces that public health officials have been urging people to avoid.

READ MORE: U.S. travellers return home to hours-long airport waits amid coronavirus pandemic

In a sign of the impending economic gloom on the horizon, the Federal Reserve slashed its benchmark interest rate to near zero. President Donald Trump sought to calm a jittery nation by declaring that the government has “tremendous control” over the situation and urging people to stop the panic buying of grocery staples that has depleted the shelves of stores around the country. Gun stores started seeing a similar run on weapons and ammunition as the panic intensified.

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2:28 Coronavirus outbreak: Trump tells U.S. citizens stocking up on food and supplies to ‘relax’

Coronavirus outbreak: Trump tells U.S. citizens stocking up on food and supplies to ‘relax’

As Americans struggled to come to terms with how to change their daily habits, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention issued a dramatic recommendation: Because large events can fuel the spread of the disease, it said gatherings of 50 people or more should be canceled or postponed throughout the country for the next eight weeks. It added that, at any event, proper precautions should be taken, including making sure people are washing their hands and not getting too close.

But in a sign of the difficulty of striking the right balance, the statement from the CDC also said the recommendation does not apply to “the day to day operation of organizations such as schools, institutes of higher learning, or businesses.”

READ MORE: Coronavirus: What are the chances of dying and who is most at risk?

Even before the warning, parts of the country already look like a ghost town, and others are about to follow as theme parks closed, Florida beaches shooed away spring breakers, Starbucks said it will accept only drive-thru and takeout orders and the governors of Ohio and Illinois ordered bars and restaurants shuttered. California’s governor asked the state’s bars and restaurants to do the same, but didn’t order it. New York City, New Jersey and elsewhere are considering similar measures.

“The time for persuasion and public appeals is over,” Illinois Gov. J.B. Pritzker said. “This is not a joke. No one is immune to this.”

Story continues below advertisement

His decision came hours after Dr. Anthony Fauci, the federal government’s top infectious disease expert, said he would like to see a 14-day national shutdown imposed to prevent the virus’s spread.

2:15 COVID-19: Delays at airports as American travelers try to get home

COVID-19: Delays at airports as American travelers try to get home

“I think Americans should be prepared that they are going to have to hunker down significantly more than we as a country are doing,” said Fauci, a member of the White House task force on combating the spread of coronavirus. He heads the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases at the National Institutes of Health.

There is no indication Trump is considering such a move.

The worldwide outbreak has sickened more than 162,000 people and left more than 6,000 dead, with thousands of new cases confirmed each day. The death toll in the United States climbed to 64, while infections passed 3,200.

Meanwhile, harsh criticism rained on Trump and his administration Sunday from state and local officials over long lines of returning international passengers at some U.S. airports that could have turned them into coronavirus carriers as they tried to get home.

READ MORE: Coronavirus: U.S. Federal Reserve slashes rates to nearly zero in response to COVID-19

Chicago Mayor Lori Lightfoot lambasted the administration for allowing about 3,000 Americans returning from Europe to be stuck for hours inside the customs area at O’Hare International Airport on Saturday, violating federal recommendations from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention that people practice “social distancing.”

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The passengers, many of them rushing home because of fears they would be stuck in Europe, were screened for coronavirus symptoms before they were allowed to leave the airport.

Long lines also formed Saturday in Boston, Dallas and others of the 13 airports that are accepting return flights from Europe.

2:55 Coronavirus outbreak: U.S. officials will focus on taking care of health care workers, elderly during virus outbreak

Coronavirus outbreak: U.S. officials will focus on taking care of health care workers, elderly during virus outbreak

“People were forced into conditions that are against CDC guidance and are totally unacceptable,” Lightfoot said.

Elizabeth Pulvermacher, a University of Wisconsin student, arrived Saturday at O’Hare from Madrid, where she had been studying and spent hours in line. The customs process made her feel “unsafe,” she said.

“The whole idea is getting rid of the spread of coronavirus, but there were hundreds and hundreds of people in very close proximity,” Pulvermacher said.

Dr. Robert Murphy, executive director of Institute for Global Health at Northwestern University, said he was “appalled” by what he saw Saturday at nearby O’Hare.

READ MORE: U.S. government says coronavirus virus testing will prioritize medical staff, elderly

“If they weren’t exposed to COVID-19 before, they probably are now. From a public health perspective, this is malpractice,” Murphy said in a statement Sunday. “The lack of preparation and concern is unfathomable.”

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But the situation improved markedly Sunday at O’Hare and elsewhere. Acting Homeland Security Secretary Chad Wolf said wait times are down to 30 minutes after processes have been adjusted to better handle the influx and extra personnel sent to the airports that are “funneling” passengers returning from overseas.

Bailey Miles, a 20-year-old sophomore at Taylor University in Indiana, arrived also from Madrid fearing the worst, but she got through customs and a health screening in about an hour. She said officials seemed to have learned their lesson from Saturday, when some of her friends returned.

1:22 Coronavirus outbreak: Pence says U.S. government has ‘no higher priority’ than health and safety of public

Coronavirus outbreak: Pence says U.S. government has ‘no higher priority’ than health and safety of public

“The employees were really helpful, had positive attitudes and had a lot of grace,” she said. She said a woman even passed out snacks.

At Newark Liberty International Airport in New Jersey, Amanda Kay said she was asked to keep her distance from other passengers when she arrived from Paris at Newark Liberty International Airport in New Jersey.

“They wanted 50 people at a time. So the first 50 people got off, and they asked us to keep a large distance between ourselves,” she said. “We showed them the first form and then as we walk there’s a person who has the scan for your temperature. And then you go through Customs and then that was it.”

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READ MORE: During Democratic debate, Biden and Sanders call for increased coronavirus testing

Going forward, Wolf said he could not rule out a future halt to air travel within the U.S. Fauci said earlier Sunday on television that halting domestic travel had been discussed, though not seriously.

For most people, the new coronavirus causes only mild or moderate symptoms, such as fever and cough. For some, especially older adults and people with existing health problems, it can cause more severe illness, including pneumonia. The vast majority of people recover.

And that may have given some people false hope, causing them to venture into crowds that Fauci and others would prefer they avoid. Even if someone doesn’t become visibly ill, they can still carry the disease and spread it to others.

2:37 Coronavirus outbreak: Pence says over 2000 labs across U.S. will be able to process COVID-19 tests

Coronavirus outbreak: Pence says over 2000 labs across U.S. will be able to process COVID-19 tests

In New Orleans and Chicago, people clad in green for St. Patrick’s Day packed bars and spilled onto crowded sidewalks on Saturday even after the cities canceled their parades.

New York City, which has the nation’s largest public school district, announced that it will be closed starting Monday, joining most of the rest of the country. Mayor Bill de Blasio had originally balked, but under pressure from Gov. Andrew Cuomo and others he said Sunday, “I became convinced over the course of today that there is no other choice.”

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In Florida, Walt Disney World and Universal-Orlando were closing Sunday night for the rest of the month, joining their California siblings, which already closed. Farther south, Miami Beach and Fort Lauderdale officials announced that they are closing their beaches, where thousands of college spring breakers from around the world have flocked.

READ MORE: Passenger who flew from Gatwick to Toronto tested positive for coronavirus: WestJet

The cities also ordered restaurants and bars closed by 10 p.m. and to keep crowds below 250.

“We cannot become a petri dish for a very dangerous virus,” Miami Beach Mayor Dan Gelber said. “Spring break is over. The party is over.”

Starbucks said Sunday it is closing seating in its cafes and patio areas nationwide, but customers can still order at the counter, at drive-thrus or on the Starbucks app. It will also close or reduce hours in areas where there are a high-number of cases.

1:55 Coronavirus outbreak: How to talk to your kids about the virus

Coronavirus outbreak: How to talk to your kids about the virus

But not all government officials were as concerned. Oklahoma’s Republican Gov. Kevin Stitt tweeted a picture of himself and his children at a crowded metro restaurant Saturday night.

Republican Rep. Devin Nunes had a similar message on Fox News Sunday, encouraging people to go to local restaurants and pubs despite the warnings of health officials.

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Spencer reported from Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Associated Press journalists Mallika Sen, Vanessa Alvarez, Seth Wenig, Lisa Marie Pane, Christopher Weber, Eugene Johnson and John Seewer contributed.

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