#when am i supposed to collect my parcels if you keep changing the times with no warnings?

[nerdie-faerie]

I swear to god can they stop changing up the reception times

[iatethepomegranate]

Just a fic about Caleb buying a house in Rexxentrum with Beau and Yasha, and coping with that kind of change and newfound stability (and becoming Professor Widogast). Angst and fluff are at war in this fic.

Chapter Summary: Caleb was loved, in so many different ways, by so many people. The Nein were a whirlwind of chaos and dick jokes, but they were his. And Essek... even when Essek did not use the words "I love you", every word he said and every touch he offered was proof enough. In other words, the Mighty Nein crash at Caleb and Beauyasha's place and shower them with affection.

Notes: Chapter title is from Five by Sleeping at Last. Here's some fluff. Caleb is still Caleb, but everyone loves him and wants him to be happy. Hug your sad wizard friend/research partner/it's complicated.

****

Chapter 2: But something gets lost from a safe distance and now I can't put my mind to rest

There was enough furniture in the house to sleep for the night. After an enormous grocery shop that made gratuitous use of Yasha’s muscles, Beau’s superhuman balance, and Caleb’s telekinesis, the three of them collapsed on the couch.

Beau piled her feet onto Caleb’s lap, resting her head on Yasha’s. “Hey, Caleb?”

“Ja?”

“You good now?”

“I think so.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Nein.” Caleb had zero interest in talking about how much he had cried on their kitchen table earlier. He wasn’t ready to process it.

“Cool. Good talk.”

Yasha smiled down at Beauregard, fondly but with an edge to it. “Shh.” She put her finger on Beau’s lips. “Let us just… be quiet for a while.”

Caleb tipped his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. He drifted close to sleep, but Essek’s voice filled his mind.

“Caleb. How was the house? I am in a safe place. I will visit when you have a safe landing spot. Talk soon, love.”

Caleb couldn’t help burst into a grin. “Hallo, Essek. We bought it. Veth gave me the money. Go to the Grove when ready. I will come get you. Ich liebe dich.”

“Gross,” said Beauregard. “You know I can understand you now, right?”

Caleb pinched her ankle. “I remember.”

“Beau,” sighed Yasha.

“I’m kidding. I’m happy you’ve worked things out with him.” She shifted, digging her heel into his thigh. “Look, I don’t give a fuck about your sex life--”

“Good.”

“--but you know you can tell me shit, right? It was just the two of you for weeks, and now it’s… not. Are you okay with that?”

Caleb sighed; he already missed Essek dearly, but he always knew it would be like this. “Ja. We talked about it a lot. We want to be together as much as we can, but we are practical people, ja? I will bring him around soon, for a few days at least. Rexxentrum is not safe for him.”

“Well, good thing you have your own space. I don’t wanna hear that shit.”

Caleb rolled his eyes at her. “We are more likely to stay up late talking.” Sex with Essek was more of a (great) side benefit than a core element of their relationship A relationship they had never bothered to define. It was what it needed to be in the moment.

“That’s even worse, Caleb.”

“How the fuck is that worse?”

Beauregard shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s fuckin’ romantic as shit.”

“Ja, I am sure that you, the woman who makes out with her girlfriend in front of all our friends, is disgusted by romance.”

Beauregard grumbled incoherently at him.

****

Caleb was soon preoccupied with ferrying the Mighty Nein to the new house. He first collected Veth, Fjord and Jester from Yussa’s tower. Kingsley had wanted to explore Nicodranas for a while, without Fjord and Jester’s supervision. They had tentatively allowed it, not that they could’ve stopped Kingsley even if they had wanted to.

“Omigosh it’s so pretty !” Jester screeched upon seeing the house. “The windows are kinda boring, though. Can I paint them?”

Caleb was not in the habit of refusing Jester anything. “I suppose. Ask Beau and Yasha.”

“Which door is theirs?”

“The right. It should be unlocked.”

Jester tore ahead and disappeared inside. Fjord hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, gazing up at the exterior.

“It’s bigger than I expected,” he said.

“Ja, the previous occupant is a professor at Soltryce Academy. She lives alone, and it was too much space for her.”

“You’re okay with that?” asked Veth.

“Ja, she was very nice. She lives on Astrid’s estate now.”

“Trent’s old place?” asked Fjord.

“Ja.”

He whistled softly. “That must be weird.”

Caleb didn’t want to talk about it. “The professor gave us a good deal. I am meeting her for coffee tomorrow to talk about Evocation.” He looked down at Veth. “Thank you for the money.”

“I just wish I could’ve given you more, Cay.”

“It was plenty, Veth.” Caleb led them inside and picked Veth up so he could give her the hug he had wanted for days.

******

Next, Caleb teleported to the Blooming Grove. The grass had grown back where it had once been burned, and the house had been repaired. The tangled residuum trees had held strong, keeping the corruption of the Savalirwood at bay. It was quiet, save for the distant clattering of dishes coming from the house.

Caduceus appeared in the doorway before Caleb had taken more than a few steps. “Oh, excellent. Essek’s in the garden. Go get him. I’ll be out in a moment.”

Caduceus didn’t specify where in the garden, but Caleb assumed he was giving him the satisfaction of figuring it out for himself. Caleb walked further into the grove, occasionally stopping to cradle a blossom or sniff a particularly sweet scent.

He spotted Essek’s broad-brimmed hat first. On loan from the Clays. Caleb approached quietly, watching Essek hover over the bed of a herb garden, wearing the rose gloves Jester had made him while he carefully pulled weeds with a look of utmost concentration. The kind of look that made Caleb remember how attractive it was to watch him work.

As Caleb drew closer, Essek froze. Looked up. Relaxed as his face broke into a smile.

“I am sorry I startled you,” Caleb said, closing the distance.

Essek floated away from the herbs and opened his arms, accepting Caleb into them. “It’s all right. You know I’m a little… jumpy these days.”

Caleb kissed his neck; Essek was taller than him when he floated, and only when he floated. “Are you sure you want to visit Rexxentrum?”

“No one will expect to find me there. It will be fine for a few days.” He kissed Caleb’s forehead, and then lifted Caleb’s chin to kiss his mouth. “I wanted to see your new house. And you.”

Caleb dropped his head to Essek’s shoulder, breathing him in. This was the only peaceful moment they would have all day. Essek tucked Caleb’s head under his chin and gave him a squeeze.

“Caleb, are you all right?”

Caleb laughed softly, remembering the first time Essek had asked him in the heat of battle. “I don’t know. This is a lot.”

Essek kept squeezing; they had both discovered one rough night in Aeor that Caleb found this kind of careful pressure extremely comforting. “I understand. This is a huge change for you. Are you overwhelmed?”

“Ja, very.”

“I hope having me there will help, for what little time I can give.”

“You are already helping, Essek. Danke.”

Essek kissed the top of his head. He had slowly begun to initiate more physical contact, and their time together alone in Aeor had accelerated the process. It let Caleb pull back a bit and let himself accept Essek’s affection once in a while instead of constantly being the one to initiate. It was good. They were good.

Fuck , Caleb had missed him.

****

After saying his hellos and goodbyes to the Clays, Caleb palmed a small stone Yasha had dug from the garden bed behind the house and teleported himself, Caduceus and a disguised Essek. They landed in Caleb’s currently sparse sitting area, as planned.

“This is my side of the house. We are working on the furniture situation.” Caleb took them on a quick tour of the house, and was pleased to find Essek equally excited by the possibilities of the study as he had been.

They then used the door on the middle floor to cross into the other side and down the stairs into the crowded sitting area. Yasha was sitting on the rug, stitching a thick floral fabric to make curtains while Jester “helped” by painting tiny dicks on it. Beau and Fjord were sitting on the couch, watching with a mix of amusement and concern. Veth had probably been with them, but launched herself at Caleb for a hug as soon as he had appeared.

She had more or less glued herself to him since she had arrived, evidently sensing his lack of equilibrium. He was grateful she was there to ground him. For a long time, she and Frumpkin had been all that held together the tattered shreds of his mental health.

Caduceus slipped into the kitchen, but was the least sneaky man alive when he wasn’t trying to prank his siblings. He had a parcel in his hands, brought from the Grove. Caleb followed him.

Caduceus carefully stripped off the brown paper packaging to reveal a small wooden crate, from which he lifted a tea set complete with a kettle. He filled the kettle with water and set it over the fireplace, directing Caleb to light it. Caduceus pulled out a few small boxes of tea and cooking herbs from the Grove, arranging them in cabinets.

“I’ll bring another set next time I visit,” Caduceus promised. “Until then, you are required to spend time with the ladies. No locking yourself in the study and forgetting to eat.”

Essek chuckled from the doorway, knowing full-well Caleb would do exactly that. Repeatedly.

“We’ll go shopping together tomorrow,” Caduceus continued. “There are some things you three need for a good, complete kitchen and I don’t trust you to remember any of them, even with your memory.”

“Thank you, Caduceus.” Caleb was getting emotional again. “I, uh, am having coffee with an Evocation professor tomorrow morning, but we can go after that.”

Caduceus smiled at him. Soft, knowing. “I look forward to it.”

****

The Nein had apparently agreed without Caleb’s knowledge that they would stay on Beau and Yasha’s side for the night to give Caleb and Essek some privacy.

Caleb had ultimately decided to use the larger bedroom (the rest of the Nein may have insisted he treat himself). He was glad for it now that he had Essek in his bed. They were too tired for sex, and not really in the mood, but cuddling is a lot more comfortable when you’re not afraid of falling out of bed.

Essek had arranged things so he was lying on his back with Caleb curled around him. Caleb rested his head on Essek’s chest, listening to the gentle drumming of his heart, while Essek drew lazy patterns on his back with a finger. Spell symbols, mainly. Some Caleb recognised, and some he didn’t.

“This is a good location,” Essek said quietly. “Beauregard showed me a map of the city. It is central, but not too close to anything that would upset you more than the city in general already does.”

“Rexxentrum doesn’t upset me,” Caleb mumbled, halfway to sleep already. He tended to sleep better with trusted company these days.

“Beauregard told me what you said the first time you stepped foot here in years,” Essek said softly.

I don’t know if I can do this. “That was some time ago. It’s… easier now.”

“That does not mean it is easy.”

Caleb sighed deeply, closing his eyes. “Okay. It’s not. But that’s not… the last time I had a house was the Xhorhouse, and we all knew that was never permanent. The only home I’ve ever had that was supposed to be long-term… I burned it. The shitty hospital room they kept me in for eleven year was a roof over my head, one I barely remember, and that was… not a home. I was homeless for a long time. I have slept in the woods, in the streets, under bridges, where I could find even the tiniest bit of shelter. Now I own a house .”

“Caleb, I told you in the Grove this is a huge change for you.” Essek’s voice was soft but firm, as it often was when he thought Caleb was being needlessly stubborn or foolish. “You have been through so much , and now you are doing normal things like buying a house and putting down roots. And you have many painful memories here. I believe you will be okay, but you do not have to be. Not before you’re ready.”

Caleb felt foolish for letting this get to him so much. The last few days had been full of nothing but good things. But he was exhausted nonetheless, and eternally a hair’s breadth away from tears. Even in his worst moments, he had never been fragile in this way,  like he was a bucket of water with a hole in it that would leak at the slightest provocation.

Essek pressed his palm down between Caleb’s shoulder blades, forcing him to exhale. “Caleb. Be gentle with yourself. Give yourself time.”

Caleb chucked a little, despite his mod. “That is your specialty.”

“And I have taught you well.”

“The best teacher I ever had,” Caleb said quietly.

“You deserved better. Let yourself have better now, in your own time.”

“I’m trying.”

“I know. Stop pushing it. You know better than anyone it doesn’t work that way.” Essek’s hand slid into Caleb’s hair, cradling the base of his skull. “You of all people deserve patience and kindness, most of all from yourself. I will remind you of this.”

“Thank you.” Caleb pushed himself up on his elbows, finding Essek’s features in the dark. “You know, this is probably the safest I have been in close to twenty years.”

Essek reached up, tucking a strand of Caleb’s hand behind his ear. “Good. You deserve it. Even if I never have a moment’s peace for the rest of my life, all I want is for you to have all the safety and kindness you could ever need.”

“I would give it up in a heartbeat if I could help you.”

“I would never ask that of you,” Essek said warmly, but with a firm edge. “There are a great many things we have already given up. That one is not an option. Of all the people I have known in my 120 years, you deserve a lifetime of peace the most. Even if you will get bored eventually.”

Caleb slid a hand over Essek’s cheek, rubbing the soft skin with his thumb. “Remember when we thought we would never be the kind of people who would make big declarations of love at each other?” Because even if Essek wasn’t explicitly saying I love you , the words he did say were dripping with diamonds of unadulterated affection.

Essek huffed a soft laugh. “Most things between us do not need to be said. This does.”

“Thank you, Essek. I love you too.” Caleb rested his head over Essek’s heart once again, and let the gentle rhythm lull him to sleep.

[n3rdybird]

Healing Touch

Written for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​‘s Hamilton Lyric challenge!  This story went through so many re-writes and changes, god I hope this mangled mess is okay, haha.  My prompt was the line “My name’s been through a lot.  I can take it.”

Vikings

HeahmundxReader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Some blood, talk about Church, self-flagellation etc (referenced, not described in depth) suggestive language, oogling a man of the church (haha)

Gossip was always a funny thing in small villages.  Perhaps you had not been thinking clear when you established your home on the edge of the holy town of Sherborn. Nestled in the woods near a stream, you were both close enough to the town to visit for supplies but far enough away that your arrival stirred up a bit of mystery.

 As an unmarried woman with no known family, you already raised a few brows of the more prominent families.  But it was your talent for herbalism that set most of the tongues wagging.  The smallfolk were more pragmatic towards your skills.  They could overlook your marital status if it meant well-made salves and tonic for their aches and illnesses. With their payments, usually traded goods that you could not make yourself, and the bounty of the forest, you rarely had any need to visit the town marketplace.  Which only furthered the mystique around you.

 When you did grace the town with your presence, most of the townsfolk gave you a wide berth, allowing you to shop in peace.  Even the merchants seemed to deal in your favor, giving you more than was due for your wares.  You heard the rumors.  Half the town believed that you were a cunning woman and would bring misfortune to any who wronged you.  The other half sang your praises, that you were even more skilled than the clergy.

 So it was to your great surprise as you kneeled to rearrange your parcels in your basket that a shadow loomed over you. You glanced upward, schooling your features as you saw the Bishop of Sherborne himself, Heahmund, standing over you.

You nodded your head in greeting before standing, slinging your basket over your shoulder.  The bishop was a popular man, known for his devotion to God as well as to the sword.  And lesser-known, his propensity for women.  Mostly gossip, but living as you had, you knew there was at least a kernel of truth to any rumor.  His handsome face did not help, nor the way his stubble gave him a rakish air.  He was a far cry from the average holy man, fat and week from a sedentary lifestyle.

 “Your Grace,” you greeted and dipped into a shallow curtsey, giving the most powerful man in Sherborne due deference for his position.

 “You know who I am?” he asked.

 “Of course.  One could scarcely live in Sherborne without knowing of its Bishop,” you answered.

 He nodded in agreement, before gesturing for you to walk with him.

 “Please allow me to escort you home if you are finished for the day,” he offered. 

 You had no intention of spending any considerable time with the church official, but you erred on the side of caution and walked in step next to him.

 “I apologize for not making my acquaintance sooner, I meet most of my parishioners on Sundays for mass,” he said, keeping his eyes forward. 

 You hummed noncommittally, but inside, you blanched. Heahmund's statement seemed polite on the surface, but you knew he was angling for an answer to why you had yet to make an appearance in church.  In all honesty, it wasn’t that you weren’t Christian.  You were, in your own way.  It was the idea that one had to go to church to be considered religious that you didn’t agree with.  So you had to pick your words carefully.

 “Well then I am pleased that I’ve had the chance to meet you today,” you said, avoiding the point about the church, focusing on his former words rather than the latter.  Heahmund cut his eyes towards you, clearly noting your evasion.

 “Quite.”  His tone was sharp and you felt as if you failed an unknown test.

 The conversation dwindled to Heahmund telling bits of history about the town or gesturing to points of interest as the two of you left town.  You were glad when you walked past the boundary of Sherborne. You were used to the curious stares when you were alone, but with the Bishop as company, it seemed the gazes were amplified.  The gossip mill would soon be in a frenzy.  The path home took you past the open fields and into the shaded forest along a winding path.

 “Living alone, so far from town, must worry you,” he noted.

 “Why would I be worried?”

 “Well a woman such as yourself, living alone.  You would be far better protected living in town.  Roaming bandits, animals, or even the occasional Viking incursion.”

 “I worry as much as the next, I suppose, but living in town has never appealed to me.  Not to mention it is easier to collect wild plants,” you explained.

 “Yes, I’ve heard of your skills.  Where did you learn?”

 You paused your walk, noticing a crop of comfrey sprouting from the ground.  You knelt in the dirt, brushing the purple buds with your fingertips.  Too young.  You’d have to wait a few more days to harvest.  You stood up, wiping the dirt off your skirt.  You glanced back at Heahmund who had stopped several paces away.  He was watching you closely but looked away as soon as your gaze met his.

 “Family mostly, I’ve never learned formally.  I’ve found that there is much in nature that can help or hurt.  It only takes a practiced hand to know the difference.”

 Heahmund stiffened, his hand resting on his sword.  His gaze turned to stone as he eyed you critically. 

 “And do you only heal?  Or do you hurt?  I admit this meeting was no coincidence.  There have been rumors that reached my ears.  Half the town believes you to be a cunning woman, a witch, and I do not suffer pagans under my watch.”

 You swallowed.  You shouldn’t have disregarded the gut feeling you had the moment he began speaking to you. If the Bishop found any fault in your words, he could kill you now and be firm in his belief that he was in the right in his duty as a man of God.  There was no one around who could come to your aid, not that any would stand against the warrior.

 “Do you deny it?”

 “Perhaps you could tell me which rumors have graced your ears, so I may better defend myself.”  The words you spoke were calm and confident, the complete opposite of how you were feeling. The sounds of the forest melted away and all you could hear was your rapid heartbeat as you tried to control your fear.

 Heahmund tilted his head as if trying to suss out your guilt or innocence.

 “‘Which’ rumors?  You are aware of what people say about you?”

 “My name’s been through a lot.  I can take it.  Women are always subjected to gossip, especially unmarried ones.  I would be a fool to believe otherwise.  I hardly see the point in trying to change someone’s opinion of me.  People do not like to be wrong.”

 “Lord Oswald has claimed that you hold dark influence over his daughter, causing her to act out and defy her father.  And that you placed a curse upon him, causing illness.”

 At the mention of the man, you clenched your fist.  You had first met his daughter when she visited you, draped in a cloak to hide her face. The purple bruise that spread across her cheekbone like a wine stain caused your immediate hatred towards the man she called father.  You may have let out a few choice curse words as you treated the abrasion and consoled the young woman.

 “That man is a pig.  I couldn't care less what he thought of me.  As for his illness, perhaps he should be blaming his poor diet.”

 “Lord Oswald is an upstanding and-”

 “Upstanding?  That man would sell his daughter to the vilest devil on earth if it meant he’d get more power!” You blurted the words out, angry that that man would be considered upstanding.

 “His daughter is his by rights, and as such may marry her to a man of his choosing. That is the duty of daughters,” the Bishop intoned, repeating the words drilled into him by years of church teachings.

 You scoffed at his words, biting back harsh curses.  Duty, you’ve never cared for that word.

 “Duty, what a hollow promise.  Is it not a father’s duty to protect his daughter? And not to lay a hand on her in anger?”

 Heahmund’s face softened at that particular bit of information.

 “Did you place a curse on Oswald?” he asked again, his voice low and stern.

 “I wouldn’t have to.  That man will drink himself into an early grave,” you spat.  You nodded to where his hand was still resting on the pommel of his sword.

 “So what is your judgment?  Is thinking a man worth less than a pile of shit enough to die? Or not congregating with hypocrites on Sunday who profess their goodness only to hit their wives or cheat on their husbands or sleep with clergymen?  Are those my crimes?”

 The last bit of course was aimed at the Bishop.  He was taken aback by your words.  He too knew the hypocrisy of humans, he had seen it firsthand in others and himself.

 “Regardless of any sin committed, man can repent and ask forgiveness.”  It was what he told himself every time he failed in his duty to God.

 “But I am judged by the words of one man, and that’s enough to condemn me?  And what of all the kind words said in my favor? Because they are from the smallfolk they aren’t as important? But as soon as someone with ‘prestige’ speaks horrible lies, you must come running to investigate.  Like a trained hound set out by its masters.”

 Dismissing the warrior bishop, you shook your head.  Rigid, sanctimonious, and arrogant.

 “If you are going to kill me, kill me.  I do not wish to suffer your presence any longer.”

 When Heahmund did not speak but removed his hand from his sword you gave him a terse nod.

 “Enjoy the rest of your day, your Grace.”

 Heahmund watched as you walked away, your skirts swishing behind you.  You had spoken the truth.  He had no interest in you until the upper echelon started their complaints.  He was all but demanded to get to the bottom of it.  As much as your words stung, you were correct. He could have denounced the hearsay as soon as they were spoken, owing to the fact that smallfolk all but revered you.  So he bowed under the demands to keep his place secure.

 You, however, were not what he expected.  Young, unmarried, and striking.  He thought you might be an older widow, with the talk of your skills.  Instead he got you, a fiery, educated young woman, who wasn't afraid of speaking her mind.  It was almost refreshing to have someone not fawn over him.  Yes, you treated him with respect but did not trip over yourself to please him.  You had no problem criticizing him.

 He rubbed the pommel of his sword, worrying the raised designs with his thumb.  You were interesting indeed.

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

 After you left the bishop to mull over your words, you had hurried home, half expecting him to come after you and take you in for your supposed crimes. When he did not follow, your steps became shaky and you found yourself stumbling into the small cottage you called home.  You flung the latch closed and leaned against the door, trying to regain your wits.

 You had been accused of crimes, as untrue as they were.  The Bishop himself was sent to investigate.  And you had thrown a tantrum, insulting him and his life.  The next few days you did not venture far from your home, fearing retribution.  You debated leaving your home, going to another area.  But you tired of running away.  As the days passed, you breathed a little easier.  No one had come to take you away, and the smallfolk continued to do business with you.

 After a particularly grueling morning over a cookfire, and setting a poor child’s broken arm, you were exhausted.  With the hot sun overhead, you plucked at your tunic as it stuck to your skin.  A dip in the water would do nicely.

 Gathering your satchel and clad in a lightweight chemise, you began your trek to your preferred bathing spot.  A small bend in the river where the water calmed and you could bathe in relative peace.

 Placing your bag within reach of the water, you glance around before unlacing your chemise, letting it fall to your feet.  The water was cool, refreshing on your overheated skin.  You ducked under the water, brushing your wet locks away from your face.  You wiped the water from your eyes before reaching for your soap to wash away the grime of the morning.

 “Perhaps you are not a witch, but a water nymph from Greek stories,” a familiar voice called out.  You spun and stared gobsmacked at the bishop sitting near the edge of the water.  You bristled at the nerve of him openly staring as you bathed.

 “Shouldn’t a man of the cloth look away when a woman is bathing?” you retorted, wishing for the first time that the water was not so clear.

 “Ah, but you have already judged me a hypocrite, would that not be proving you wrong?” he replied but turned his head away from you.

 You grumbled, a bit irritated that he had thrown your own words back in your face. Making your way to the shore, you all but snatched your chemise with outstretched fingertips, and dressed with haste.

 “Is there something you need, your Grace?” you huffed out, irritated that he had spoiled your bath. You grabbed your satchel, swinging it wildly over your shoulder, hitting his chest with the soft leather.  You immediately dropped your pack in alarm when he hissed in pain.

 “I came to apologize,” he said between clenched teeth.  “Would that be amiable, or would you prefer to hit me with your bag again?”

 The weight of your bag should not have caused him any pain, especially if it caused him to grit his teeth.  You peeled back his tunic and gasped at the sight of several scratches adorning his chest.  Though most were superficial, a few deep welts drug across the expanse of his skin.

 “What on earth happened?”

 Heahmund jerked away from your grip.

 “It’s nothing to worry about," he said, brushing off your concern.

 “I’d ask you not to lie to me.  Take off your shirt.”

 When he didn’t follow your command you rolled your eyes.

 “Lord save me from bullheaded men,” you muttered, reaching for his shirt.

 “You can either take off your shirt, or I will cut it off.  It matters not to me what you choose.”

 Heahmund raised a brow at your demands and pulled his tunic over his head with a grunt of pain.  Kneeling in front of him, you tried to not ogle the Bishop as you took in his wounds.  Most were already scabbed over, others dark with crusted blood.  You curled your lip in dismay.  You traced your fingers over his skin, the newer cuts crossing over old scars.  Some of the deeper gashes were warm to the touch, a sign of infection.  You looked up, his eyes watching your hand as it moved across his chest before looking at you.

 You pulled your hand away, clucking in a scolding manner.  Rifling through your pouch, you pulled out a strip of cloth and some salve.  You dipped the cloth into the cool water, wringing out the excess before blotting at the wounds.

 “You would think someone with your knowledge would know to treat cuts, no matter how trivial,” you said, as you washed the crusted blood away.  “You look like you got in a fight with a cat,” you joked.

 “Thorns actually,” he amended.  When you looked at him confused, he clarified.

 “My self-penance, along with asking for your forgiveness.”

 You paused in your ministrations, horrified at the thought.

 “You believe God would want you to harm yourself to seek forgiveness?”

 “It brings me clarity, to better understand what path God wishes me to take.”

 You shook your head before reaching for the salve.

 “What is there to understand?  God gave us free will, for us to make the choices in our lives.  Maybe making mistakes is part of his plan?” you said softly, applying the paste with deft fingers.

 “I fear I make too many mistakes, stumble too often in my path,” Heahmund confessed.

 “You were right.  About Oswald and the rumors.  His daughter confirmed it in confession.  She was quite worried about you when she heard I came to visit you.”

 You shook your head, sighing.  The last thing you wanted was to cause more trouble for the young girl.

 “I hope you told her she was not at fault.  I can take care of myself.  Please tell her not to worry.”

 He took your hand in his, his calloused fingertips running along yours.  Your hand was calloused, but not from holding a sword.  You had burn scars from hot pots, tiny cuts from mishaps with knives. Your hand that he had accused of witchcraft and misdeeds was the hand that wiped away his blood and applied medicine, something he did not deserve.  A healing hand.

 “Choices and mistakes shape our lives, make us who we are.  My life brought me here, to Sherborne.  As your choices brought you to me.  It was your choice to let, rather than kill or imprison me, something I am grateful for,” you said matter of fact.

 Heahmund laughed.

 “We shall see if that works in my favor.  Provided you didn’t poison me,” he said, nodding towards his chest.

 You rolled your eyes and licked your fingertip, still coated in salve.  Heahmund’s eyebrows jumped in surprise at your action.

 “Well if it were poison, now I would die as well.  So fear not your Grace, you should be on the mend quickly,” you jested with a smile.  Heahmund returned your smile with one of his own.  You felt your stomach flutter at the expression on his face, and the threat of a blush warmed your neck.

 He brought your hand up to his lips and planted a warm slow kiss on the back of your knuckles.  The rough brush of his stubble sent a zip of desire down your spine.  This was dangerous.  This was a mistake in the making.  But you found yourself caring little as you stared into his eyes.

 “Please, allow me to repay you.”

[milkbreadtoast]

INFO ON WHY THE US POSTAL SERVICE IS IN TROUBLE + HOW TO HELP (IF YOU LIVE IN THE US)!! If you don’t live in the US, please share for your US followers!!

CONSOLIDATED INFO INTO IMAGES THAT CAN BE SAVED/SHARED!! click images to read!! (plaintext below the cut) Feel free to repost these anywhere!!

TLDR VERSION:

use resistbot (text RESIST to 50409, OR dm @resistbot on twitter) to call and write your reps

ask your reps to support: HEROES Act, USPS Fairness Act, and Delivering For America Act !!

it only takes a few min!

link to my twitter thread about this

store.usps.com

(sorry the format got messed up when i copypasted)

THE US POSTAL SERVICE IS IN DANGER Why? Here's the main points: 

* The USPS has been defunded by Republicans for years in an effort to make it non viable so it can be privatized.  * Notably, the GOP-sponsored "Postal Accountability and Enhancement Act" of 2006 forced the USPS to prepay worker's pensions for the next 75 years. Due to this act alone, the USPS went from running a profit to being billions of dollars in debt. * Lately, the coronavirus pandemic has led even more people than usual to rely on the USPS to ship things. It has become extremely overwhelming for postal workers, and they are not provided PPE. However, Trump cut the USPS from receiving any covid relief. * Here's where it gets even scarier. Postmaster General DeJoy, the first postmaster with 0 postal working experience    * is a huge Trump donor    * holds stock in several private shipping companies, creating a serious Conflict of interest. In other words, it HELPS him to DESTROY the service he is supposed to lead * over the past few months he's been implementing change after change to sabotage the USPS. Here are just a few:    * Shutting down mail-sorting machines so workers must do it by hand.    * Requiring post offices to purposely delay mail    * Requiring letter carriers to leave mail to avoid extra trips.    * Prohibiting overtime pay.    * removing/destroying mail sorting machines in key election cities        * 1. Battleground states (OH, PA, FL, MI, WI, IL)        * 2. NY & Philly: liberal leaning cities in incumbent-targeted states        * 3. Houston: city w/ the highest black pop in TX (4th in US)    * removing/destroying mailboxes * Trump is openly admitting to trying to destroy the USPS to suppress voting and rig the election in his favor. Quote: "Now they need that money in order to make the post office work so it can take all of these millions and millions of ballots...But if they don’t get those two items that means you can’t have universal mail-in voting...” * FINALLY: Postal Workers have been trying to spread the word that vote-by-mail may not be safe in the upcoming election, due to inevitable Trump sabotage. Instead, they recommend:    * vote early in person    * use a ballot drop box    * drop off your ballot at an election office or polling location    * organize community ballot collection    * *note: some options may not be available in your state so pls check * Request your ballot ASAP!! So... how do we help save the USPS?! The answer: call/write to your reps!!! 

HOW TO CALL/WRITE: you can google who your reps are and how to contact them, but the EASIER way is to use resistbot: * text RESIST to 50409, or... * direct message @resistbot on twitter Resistbot will walk you through creating an account if it's your first time! Simply follow the prompts. The bot is very polite and user friendly, honestly it's pretty fun to use Keep calls short, but writing can be longer! Feel free to make it personal! Write about what the USPS means to you/why you need it!! When writing, make sure to write a slightly different message every time and do not copy and paste, or it can be filtered out. when calling: state your name & zip code ex) Hi, my name is  and my zip code is . My callback number is __. I am calling to ask you to please...

CALLING SENATORS: Vote YES/ IN FAVOR OF: * HR 6800: HEROES Act * to get the USPS direly needed funding and PPE * HR 2382/ S.2965: USPS Fairness Act * repeals the requirement that the USPS prepay pensions These two acts have passed the house but not moved in the Senate!! Please urge your senator to vote on them! CALLING YOUR HOUSE REP: * Delivering for America Act(new) * undos Postmaster General Dejoy's harmful changes to USPS operation * just introduced! ask ur rep to support it!! The House has oversight capabilities: Ask them to investigate Postmaster General Dejoy's policies that have been crippling the USPS, and his conflicts of interest owning stock in private mail courier companies: - Delaying mail creating a massive backlog. - Shutting down mail-sorting machines so workers must do it by hand. - Requiring letter carriers to LEAVE MAIL BEHIND to avoid extra trips. - Prohibiting overtime pay. 

make saving the post office a NATIONAL PRIORITY! Some reasons we need the USPS voting medication taxes small businesses many areas in the US rely on the USPS to send and receive any mail period we rely on USPS during pandemic elderly, veteran, minority/POC workers postal workers have inadequate covid protection/PPE shipping couriers (UPS, FEDEX, etc) outrageous prices (14$ vs 60$ for shipping small parcel internationally) Feel free to make it personal! Write about what the USPS means to you/why you need it!!

Finally, OTHER WAYS TO HELP (in addition to calling, not in place of!!) * Buy stamps at store.usps.com ! This is the most direct way to donate to them * Support and buy from small businesses/artists who rely on the USPS to ship! (hate to say it but...if the USPS becomes non-viable and many go out of business...please buy from them while you still can ) 

[amoret-the-leaf]

Summary: Wei Wuxian is determined. After seeing his Lan Zhan yawning, yawning of all things, he makes it his mission to let his husband take a rest. Though, as with many things in life, it doesn't go according to plan. Many years had passed since the esteemed Hanguang-Jun and the Yiling Patriarch had found themselves stuck in a cave on death's doorstep, confessing deeply rooted traumas to each other. Wei Ying would give everything he had and more to never let it happen again. Never. He was going to cherish Lan Wangji like he deserved, until the day he died.

Ship: Wangxian

Word Count: 5397

Author’s Note:  This story is a result of MDZS/CQL frankencanon, and may contain differences in titles and ways of addressing due to subtitle variations. This work may not be completely accurate to Ancient Chinese and Xianxia culture. If something has been written inappropriately/offensively, please let me know!

This chapter contains:

Exhaustion, Hypothermia, Delirium

"IT'S FREEZING OUT HERE!!! HUG ME LAN ZHAN!!!"

The snow was fierce, blowing in strong gusts of wind that changed directions every few seconds. Thick snowflakes sat in everyone's hair, from the lovers leading to the group, to the juniors being nearly blown away trailing behind. Clearly (or rather, unclearly- it was very hard to see), this day was not going as Wei Ying had hoped. Had it, and they might've been dancing through the white-coated streets of Caiyi, where the sky was calm now, and the sun shone to melt some of the snow. A blizzard in Yuanwei was certainly not in his planned itinerary for the day.

They'd been sent off when Zewu-Jun arrived back in the Cloud Recesses, visibly distressed with several delayed letters of aid coming from the townspeople. A blizzard of questionable origins had been raging for about two days now, judging by the dates on the papers. A collection of them had been found just outside the borders of the place. When recalling the events of the night before to the Lan Sect Leader, the worst was feared. Had the people been... were they gone?

If so, they were dealing with something, or someone, much more dangerous than they'd hoped.

So Zewu-Jun sent out his brother, accompanied by Wei Ying, and a group of their finest junior disciples to look for survivors, or bodies of the dead. Whatever was left at this point. Though, what had yet to be explained, was why Jin Ling was trotting around and rolling his eyes at Wei Ying snuggling against up his lover.

"Roll your eyes all you want! I'm cold! What are you even doing here?!" The former Jiang disciple hissed, head half-covered by Wangi's long sleeve he'd been wrapped in. "Shouldn't you be doing Sect Leader things?! If we needed a Sect Leader, Zewu-Jun would've come with us!"

"Mind your business!" The teen snapped back, crossing his arms. "I'm studying in Gusu right now! Did you forget? We literally see each other every day!" Jin Ling... in the Cloud Recesses? That would explain why a wild Jin would be wearing white. But it wasn't exactly ringing a bell. "Why didn't you dress warmer anyways? You knew where we were going!"

"I am dressed warm! I have my warmest clothes on mind you! But it's still cold!"

"Then you're a baby."

"A-Ling... Maybe fighting with Senior Wei isn't worth it?" Sizhui intervened, giving the softest nervous smile he could. "All of us are still cold, the temperatures are below what most of us are used to. We should try to get this done as soon as possible."

So it was A-Ling now? Interesting... He and Sizhui would be having a talk when they got home. Wangji seemed to pick up on this too, sharing a look with the other before nodding.

"Well said Sizhui!" Wei Ying exclaimed, pacing around the group. "What a polite disciple! You should try to be more like him! Your uncle has corrupted your brain to be so aggressive! It's scary!" He jumped back to his lover in exaggerated fear when Jin Ling practically growled at him as a response.

"Can we get going now? Some of us would like to keep all our fingers and toes by the end of this." Jingyi complained, sarcasm being second nature to him. It was almost impressive. "It's cold, and this place is almost buried. I don't wanna be buried with it."

Normally, the Second Jade would at least point out the rude behavior. But the boy was right. People's lives could be on the line. So he took off his outermost layer of winter robes, gently placing the clothing around Wei Ying's shoulders. His husband's golden core was still weak in comparison to what it used to be, Wangji could manage in the cold if it meant swaddling the other. White was not his color, but seeing Wei Ying with embellished clouds covering his typical black and red combination reminded him of their student days back in Gusu. Back when they were carefree teenagers.

They had to move now.

So they walked. Trudging through knee-deep snow as wind whipped their faces, snow blurring their vision, and hoping they were still headed towards the right direction. Wei Ying tried to protest giving the extra layer back, but would only be met with, "You need it more." At least, it was something along those lines. Perhaps it changed, Wei Ying didn't focus on it too much. All he wanted was for his beloved to be taking a break.

They hadn't slept in. There was no time for naps or any trips out to Caiyi. No buying loquats in the marketplace or relaxing by the cold pond (too cold to go in!) or catching up over a meal with the kids. It scared him. Wangji looked exhausted; scary to think about, scarier to see.

Is this what it felt like? Being worried for your one true love? Did Lan Zhan go through this all the time? Standing there, watching, knowing he's too stubborn to ask for help or properly take a rest? They were more alike than Wei Ying would like to admit... and that was... Miraculous. Even through his worry, Wei Ying couldn't help but be enamored by the graceful beauty Wangji had. Intoxicating in the best way.

Thick, frosty flakes sat in his hair, looking so natural. So pristine, so tranquil. "Lan Zhan! How dare you look like a regal, captivating snow prince while the rest of us look like drowned rats!" The Yiling Patriarch whined. He wasn't wrong, damp, half-frozen hair clung together wildly in almost everyone's face. Yet Lan Wangji was immune, so to speak, still looking as handsome as ever. Even tired, he was radiant.

"Mn. Not true." The Second Jade replied.

Ah, an opportunity. "Oh? Is that so?" Wei Ying smirked, bringing his palms to rest cutely onto his frigid, rosy cheeks. "So there's an exception then? Someone who gets to be labelled as breathtaking as Hanguang-Jun? I envy them~"

"Sizhui."

Eh!? "LAN ZHAN!!!" Wei Ying cried, throwing his arms back down in a fuss. He could already hear the muffled snickers coming from the juniors still following behind. "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SAY ME!!!"

"Lying is forbidden."

"WHAT!?!? LAN WANGJI!!!"

Oh how they laughed. The lot of teens quite honestly couldn't contain it anymore. Senior Wei had just been delivered a critical blow- that was hilariously overdue. Anyone could hear the moment Jin Ling dropped to the ground with a loud thump, sinking into the fresh powder as hysterical laughter spread throughout the group. Jingyi was barely hunched over on his knees, trying his very best to stay upright in the frenzy, huffing loudly every few seconds to get more air. The ever-mannered Sizhui only meekly turned away, giggling in a sort of shame.

But Hanguang-Jun took a hand to his husband's face. "Wei Ying is too bright. Too warming. He cannot be a snow prince. Has to be the sun. "

The Yiling Patriarch smiled brightly, spitting out a "take that!" to the group. "Is it because I make you melt, Ji-xiong?" He asked, playfully sticking out his tongue.

Still laying in the snow, Jin Ling covered his eyes. "Ew. I did not want to see that. Please never do that again."

Hanguang-Jun didn't seem outwardly amused, but Wei Ying could tell he was snickering at the remark (on the inside!). That is, until the Second Master Lan stepped forward once more. "No time for this. Advance."

With that, the disciples scurried back and followed. Even his husband seemed to get the message that his teasing time was regretfully over. Maybe Lan Zhan WASN'T laughing on the inside? Actually, he seemed so tense all of a sudden. Stiff as a board. When they'd arrived, he was his usual smittenly sweet self. Now it was like he was in a cultivation conference listening to the nonsense being spit by anyone who craved a sliver of attention. But he had seen him amused by it! So what just happened?

Sizhui, covertly speeding up behind Wei Ying, tugged on his sleeve. If he hadn't been half-expecting the kid to notice, he might've flinched. But A-Yuan was attentive. The subtle frown on the teen's face, the way his eyebrows lowered, and his lip sunk just a bit- Sizhui was worried too. And maybe, just maybe, Wei Ying was close enough to now be able to decipher his kid too.

Before either of them could try to get to the bottom of this, a quiet thunk was heard. Thunking wasn't the typical crunch of the snow now was it? Heads turned to Lan Jingyi, the origin of the sound. At the disciple's feet, something was peeking out. The group gathered around the unidentified object like ducklings, before digging into the fresh powder.

"It's... It's some kind of box?" Someone announced. Three of them lifted it up, but whatever was inside was buried at this point. Tipping it over, parcels containing cloths and pendants fell out. Many of them held the same, if not similar design to the tapestry previously hung in the Jingshi, and the symbol on their map.

"Well!" Wei Ying bent down, grabbing one of the pendants and sweeping snow off its print. "At least we know we're getting close!" He perked up, "And this wasn't buried deep. Someone was carrying this recently. Maybe even a few hours ago. Could've been a merchant, could've been a shopkeeper desperate to preserve their valuables. But it was abandoned here within the last 24 hours, so there's at least one person nearby."

Wangji nodded. But he kept the grim look on his face. It was always a possibility, but no one was happy when he added, "Check for bodies."

They dug around. No bodies. That was a relief. Whoever was out here, well, hopefully this meant shelter was somewhere, and still intact. Townspeople didn't have golden cores, they wouldn't make it long in this.

So they kept going. Wei Ying kept his eyes on Lan Wangji, and through his peripheral vision, watched as Sizhui and now Jingyi seemed to fret at the sight of their beloved Hanguang-Jun. If Jin Ling had any suspicions, he was doing so from afar, trailing behind with the very end of the group.

What was especially concerning, was that Lan Zhan didn't notice them. Really, Lan Wangji wasn't noticing their not-so discreet eyes piercing into him. He just kept walking.

But a hut, a hut on the hill, would draw attention away from that. A hut on a hill with a fire nonetheless, as smoke came out of the side of the place. The teens cheered, scurrying up closer, but never going past their Second Jade, who kept his simple pace. Luckily he seemed relaxed at the sight. Thank goodness, it was unbearable to see that side of him! Oh Wei Ying was definitely having a conversation with his lover about this later.

Wangji lightly knocked on the door. The loud screech of the bitter wind nearly drowned the voices inside the cabin out. But the door swung open. A woman put a hand to her chest, sighing with relief. "The cultivators have arrived!" She cried out. "Oh you're here, we're saved! We're saved!"

She pushed the door out wider. Groups of people could be seen sitting on the floor, the younger of which appearing to be swaddled in thin, scarce blankets. There was enough people crowded in this tiny house to... To fill a village! Oh!

All of them huddled around a tiny bundle of wood lit aflame in the middle of the floor. Just barely, it seemed, as it was more of a flicker than a flame. The Juniors were already taking care of that, a fire talisman sweeping through the air to get a brighter flame on the already charred wood. "Jingyi, Jin Ling, gather some wood." Lan Wangji instructed. "Sizhui, keep feeding the flame as best as you can."

The three nodded, immediately doing as they were told. Sizhui shielded the fire when the other two had opened the door. Still, the fire wavered, hanging on by what could best be compared to a loose thread. "Miss, what happened?" Wangji asked, in as few, few words as possible. At least that was normal.

"Hanguang-Jun," She started, slowly. "Hanguang-Jun, a few days ago, one of our youngest here, A-Bao, had wandered off. When he came back into town, he said he'd met a little girl." The woman's breath hitched, eyes welling up with tears. "H-He said this girl was friendly, and she wanted to play with him. A-Bao talked to her and... and he mentioned he liked snow. So the little girl promised she'd make it snow for him the next day."

It sounded like a fairytale, almost. "We thought... we thought it was a joke. But the snow came the next day. At the time, it was a coincidence to us. It's winter, we don't usually get a lot of it but it's not uncommon. But the snow never stopped!" She cried out, causing a few gathered by the fire to groan, or cover their ears. "It never stopped! We tried sending requests for aid. But every time we sent someone out, they came back, halfway to death's doorstep! No one could bear the journey! The last person to go out never came back! Sang Meng, our most talented in cultivation! A-Bao is his brother... So he went to fix his mess! Oh please, please!" The woman was kneeling now, gripping her dress, tightly. "Please help us, Hanguang-Jun! The boy might've died! We can't last like this!"

A spirit, most definitely. No curse could do this, and last he'd checked, Wei Ying wasn't aware of any large scale weather changing talismans. However, it would be unlikely this spirit would attempt to freeze over the town, and send a signal while its people were still alive. If it was out to kill, no warnings would be given. Therefore, it was not the spirit to have burnt the tapestry last night. Wei Ying's eyes glimmered with a realization. "Has Sang Meng ever created any original talismans?"

The woman nodded, vigorously. "He's been working on an altered fire talisman last I'd heard. Why?"

"He's alive, or, was. Last night. He could still be out there."

Everyone gasped. Some pulled each other close, some remaining more distant. The juniors were surprised, especially. But hope, hope was in the eyes of the townspeople. It was an all too familiar feeling. Wangji nodded, catching onto what his husband had eluded to. "Incident in the Cloud Recesses." He confirmed, though giving no other details. "Sang Meng could be alive. Most likely with the spirit now. I need to go."

...I? When had there ever been an I with them? The one person Wei Ying did not want of this house, and he was volunteering. "Lan Zhan-" He tried, but honestly, it was no use. He also, in good conscience, did not want to send the kids out in this, possibly to retrieve a body. Besides, his husband was already halfway to the door. "Lan Zhan!!! I'm coming with you! Wait for Xian-gege!"

"Wei Ying will stay here."

"Wei Ying absolutely will not. Silly Lan-er-ge."

They were both impossible to sway from these kinds of things. Righteousness was as much of a curse as it was a blessing. The Second Master Lan sighed, taking his beloved's hand. "Wei Ying is cold. The juniors are cold. They will stay here and help keep warm." He insisted,

Wei Ying huffed. Were they fighting? Was this a fight? No, Wangji was looking at him with those sweet big eyes of his. Guilt trap. It was a guilt trap, do not fall for it. They weren't fighting, Lan Zhan was worried. The other hated that. "Lan Zhan is cold too, he just won't admit it. This Yiling Patriarch is coming with you, and you cannot stop him!" With that, he continued for the door.

Wei Ying was set on this. These kids were absolutely not going to fight whatever was able to plague this whole place with a blizzard. It was definitely not the best idea to bring them, now that they had an idea of what was going on. But they could still help these people, hopefully not freezing in the meantime. "Oh, and A-Yuan, you're in charge. None of you are allowed to come with us, just make yourselves useful here. We're gonna go get the bad thing now! Don'tdoanythingstupidokaybyebye!" He beamed, ignoring the near horrified face of their son, and stepping out into the snow. His soulmate was already ten paces ahead.

Lan Wangji, just what was he not telling his A-Ying?

-

The woman, who Lan Sizhui now knew as Feng Jixiao, turned to face him. "So, are they always like this?"

A-Yuan laughed, timidly. There was only one word that came to mind to answer that, his beloved Hanguang-Jun's favorite phrase in the world. "Mn." He answered, closing his eyes. The disciple couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong, and that he was missing something very important here. But what...

-

Wei Ying panted, holding himself up on his knees. "Lan... Zhan... not so fast." He mumbled, getting no response. Or rather, if he did get one, he couldn't hear. The wind had grown louder since they'd gone inside. But it was just the two of them out here now, and Wei Wuxian was determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with his husband. In this case, it had to come first. Spirit, rescue, whatever they were doing, his soulmate came first- and Wei Ying did not have a good feeling about this. No, not at all. Was Lan Zhan swaying?

They'd been walking for about an hour. Honestly, they probably strayed far away from their original direction long ago. Luckily, the two had a teleportation talisman to use if they started to freeze. Over an hour now, and still no sign of a boy. No taunting whispers of a spirit either. If they couldn't find this spirit, they would have to call for additional aid from the clan and evacuate the townspeople. The only reason they hadn't, well, those without a core had a slim chance of surviving long enough to get to safety. Yuanwei would bury itself, something that Wangji understood, and absolutely would not accep- Was Lan Zhan swaying?

No, Wei Ying couldn't give in to paranoia. The winds were strong, and his vision was blurred with snowflakes that would fall from his eyelashes as he blinked. He definitely was not seeing his husband sway as he walked. He wasn't noticing the way that his soulmate clenched his hands, stretching them in and out. What was it? Had he found A-Bao's brother? Was the sight too terrible to see? Wei Ying took his eyes off Hanguang-Jun for a moment, a fraction in time, to try and organize these frenzied thoughts of his...

Thud.

If a thousand snowflakes had fallen last evening, then the Heavens should be happy with what they'd brought down. The will of no deity or divine being ever deserved to take Hanguang-Jun down with it. But he was falling. By sheer adrenaline, Wei Wuixian was moving. As fast as any rules would forbid, he was moving. Across the sea of dusty white, he was going. But today, Wei Ying couldn't move fast enough. The Second Jade hit the ground, any and all color drained from his face. Lan Wangji was on the ground... a ground that began crackling and crunching underneath him. Snow didn't crackle like that. The Earth did not crackle.

They were walking on a lake. A fucking frozen lake for who knows how long. A frozen body of water they somehow had defied fate on until now. But now his soulmate was unconscious. He looked like he had DIED. How far out were they?! The ice was buried under the snow, Wei Ying couldn't tell! He couldn't see- FUCK!

"LAN ZHAN!"

An earth-shattering scream rang out, and god did he run. Wangji dipped below the surface and he ran. Wei Ying didn't even feel as though he was running. No, he was flying, as fast as humanly possible. The ice cracked beneath his feet as he ran, but he would not falter nor slip. The Yiling Patriarch did not stop as he dove just his hands into the freezing water. Thousands of needles shot through his every nerve, barely registering the white cloth he'd gotten ahold of. But once he saw it, he didn't hesitate. Wei Ying pulled. 'Please don't just be the headband,' he thought, desperately. He pulled and pulled with all the strength he'd worked to regain. Come on... come on! Lan Zhan!

Wei Ying fell back with a limp body in his arms. The former Jiang disciple didn't have time to even check if he was still breathing. They had to- he had to keep running! This ice absolutely not going to hold much longer. The teleportation talisman wouldn't be fast enough! He'd fucking play a life and death game of hopscotch across glaciers if he had to. Lan Wangji just fainted on him. He should've stopped him from coming. He should've said something sooner! This was all his fault!

Bichen. Wangji still had Bichen with him. Wei Ying was too weak to ride a sword, he didn't bring Suibian. But goddammit he was gonna ride this sword. WITH Lan Wangji. Unconcious. There were no other options. Bichen already had let him wield them once, a long time ago, so Wei Ying was eternally grateful when he was able to unsheathe the sword again. He threw it straight out, shaking hands gathering up the Second Jade, and hopping on.

Of course, he'd nearly fallen off right then and there. Bichen had taken a sharp swerve left to keep them on. Wei Ying adjusted his footing, and they were going at breakneck speed, on a dizzying, unclear path. He was on a moving tightrope, and could only hope when they eventually got to the ground, it was real ground. Solid, snow-covered ground. The wind hurt as they flew, but any pain in his hands was completely blocked out by frostbitten numbness and sheer determination.

They weren't high. He didn't feel like breaking any bones if they DID get lucky enough to not die from this. Wei Ying could only swing helplessly back and forth, trying to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. Eventually, he'd more or less gone dry of spiritual energy and lost his momentum, and they tumbled off the sword, which came to a halt. Wei Ying wasn't sure if he closed his eyes, or they'd done that by himself. He really didn't want to watch himself die again.

There wasn't any cracking. So, one eye peeked back open. Trembling, he slammed down on the ground with his arm. Not slippery. Hard. No cracking sounds. No breaking. Lan Wangji was in his arms. Panicked relief swept over him as though he'd never experienced before. He could cry, hell, he was already close. But it was too cold. Icicles hanging off his face wouldn't help. "Lan Zhan." He whispered pushing his body over to his husband, turning the Lan on his back. His voice was raspy, and god was he tired. "Lan Zhan." He shook. "A-Zhan. Wake up."

He didn't. Wei Ying hunched over him, breathing hard. He took his finger's to the other's wrist, hesitantly. He really, really couldn't feel, though. The Yiling Patriarch's hands were ghostly white. Was Lan Zhan breathing? He thinks so? Fuck it, he'd do it anyway. Wei Ying used his entire body to press into the other's chest. Deep, strong rounds of pushing, with the scarce bits of spiritual energy he had left being infused into his husband.

Before he could do any mouth to mouth (much to his dismay), a pained groan escaped the Second Jade's throat. Wei Ying quickly moved back, gasping. "Lan Zhan?" He asked, lacing his fingers into his soulmate's hand. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to smack him too, but mostly kiss him. Instead, Wangji just turned over, harshly coughing. A small trail of water he'd breathed in fell onto the ground.

Glazed-over eyes stared back at him. The typical strong, striking gaze of the Lan's golden eyes looked more like they were dripping in honey. Wangji blinked, looking confused. "Wei Ying?" He asked, quietly. Wei Ying only nodded, bringing his unfeeling hand to Lan Zhan's face. Wangji looked as though he wanted to say more, but was simply too out of it. It didn't take much thinking to know that he was ice cold, colder than he was, even if Wei Ying couldn't feel it. They had to find shelter.

There was a tree nearby. Wei Ying trudged over with his own tired and bitterly freezing body and snapped off a thick, long branch. Leaning most of his weight onto his new walking stick, he swung Wangji's arm over his shoulders. "Lan Zhan, I'm going to carry you on my back, okay?" He spoke. Switching which hand he held his stick, he got the Second Jade's other arm around his neck. "Hang on for me, please."

Wei Ying had never said a genuine please in his life.

Wangji gave him no answer. Luckily, he seemed to comply, trying to hold his feet up, just a few centimeters off the ground, so they didn't drag. It was enough. Ideally, Wei Ying would be able to hold his legs, or just cradle the other bridal style in his arms once again. But this was not ideal, and he was exhausted. Wei Ying wasn't sure he'd stay upright without leaning against the stick. That, and he refused to stand on the ice again. If they were getting close, the stick would be the one being plunged into the frozen lake. Never would anyone think the Yiling Patriarch would be hunched over, stabbing the Earth with a walking stick with a frozen Hanguang-Jun on his back all those years ago. Yet here they were.

There was nothing to see but white. If only Wei Ying had more spiritual energy. The teleportation talisman they'd brought was just about useless now. Neither of them would have enough to use it- Lan Zhan's was far too important in keeping him alive. No signals would work in the blizzard either. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest decision for them to come alone. Then again, if all those kids had fallen into the ice... Wei Wuxian would never forgive himself. He'd never forgive himself for this.

...Wangji had closed his eyes again, head buried into Wei Ying's back as they walked. Was it a relief? Or was he- no, Wei Ying couldn't think about that. He was fine, for now. He WOULD be fine. When this was all over, fuck it, they were going on a break. A year-long break far away from any of this. No night hunting, no cultivation world. The Sects would just have to learn how to live without him and Lan Zhan solving all their problems. The world owed them it's kindness.

Heh, if he wasn't so blind, maybe things would be different. Maybe he could've married Lan Zhan all those years ago. Maybe the Burial Mounds could be the Yiling Wei Sect by now. Maybe Wen Qing and Granny Wen and Uncle Four would be sitting around a table as they feast. Or maybe they'd all be in the Cloud Recesses. Wen Ning would be perfect for this job, considering he's dead. He wanted to call him, in a desperate attempt, but Wei Ying knew he was in Lanling right now.

Maybe if he'd gotten Jiang Cheng out of that damn Wen prison earlier... They'd both have their cores. Maybe he wouldn't have walked his single-plank bridge. He could be sitting in Lotus Pier right now, and Shijie...

A cave. A cave?

He was hallucinating. That definitely wasn't the entrance to a cave. Oh, but it was too good to pass up. For Lan Zhan's sake, he'd have to hope it was real. Slowly sweeping through the mountains of white wet shit, Wei Ying put a hand to the outside rock wall of the hallucinated cave. Solid. Solid? It was real.

The inside was dark, damp, and depressing. Not the first cave they'd be stuck in, unfortunately. This one at least looked a little different, ice hanging from the ceiling in certain spots. But the cave- it was also deep. Deep enough to hide away from the whirring wind outside, and finally sit down with the Second Jade. He didn't waste a moment to pat his hand on the other's cheek, even if his own bones screamed at him. "Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, you can't sleep anymore." Wei Ying spoke, soft, and hurriedly. "Lan Zhan. Open your eyes."

Those golden, honey glow eyes fluttered once more. "Wei Ying." Lan Wangji repeated, as if picking up where he'd left off before. Just by the way his head rested off the cave wall, Wei Ying could tell he was dizzy. "What-"

"I'd like to ask you the same question, Mister 'I'm fine I don't need a break' and 'let's faint on my husband'." The other bit, not exactly meaning to be harsh about it. Still, it probably came off that way. "You. You fainted. What the hell have you been doing? Why won't you talk to me?" Stop. He wasn't angry. Why was he saying these things?

'I'm sorry.' Wei Ying thought, his breath hitching. 'I'm so sorry for not doing something sooner. I let you fall.'

"I..." Wangji really, REALLY looked tired. But Wei Ying couldn't let him sleep. No, not until he warmed up, even just a little. Otherwise, he might never wake up again. "I can't tell... Wei Ying. I can't tell him." The Second Master suddenly shot upright, grasping at Wei Ying's clothes. "You won't tell him, will you? Please don't tell him."

Oh, that wasn't good. That wasn't good at all. Deliria? "...I won't tell him." Wei Ying answered back, sadly. He shuffled on the floor. That walking stick was about to come in hand. "I won't tell him anything... but we need to get you warmed up." Snapping the stick into three... four smaller sticks, he sprinkled them on a dry spot. Luckily, there was another tree right outside the cave entrance. So Wei Ying had taken Bichen once again, the sword being much heavier this time and chopped up bundles of logs. He came back to the same, mumbling Lan Zhan seated in the exact same place.

He had a fire talisman. Not that he couldn't start one on his own, but this was way easier. Plus, he didn't need spiritual energy for this one. A bit of his tinkering had come to the rescue. Fire talismans were one of the easiest to alter, he'd found. But if that kid had sent a strategic fire all the way to the Cloud Recesses, well, he was a bit of a genius. His rescue would have to wait, though.

The fire caught, blazingly. Sticking his hands over it made them feel as though they were melting back to some degree of normal. "Lan Zhan, I'm gonna move you closer to the fire, okay?"

He didn't get a verbal response. But he did get a pout, and puffed out cheeks. That couldn't help but make him laugh. "Ah Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan," He spoke, carrying his lover and plopping him on the ground, for him to then lean against Wei Ying's body. "Is Lan Zhan five? No, that can't be it. How about three?" He teased, trying to lighten the mood.

What didn't Wangji want to tell him? He couldn't be sure. All he could do was gather them up and throw them into the fire. Dissipate, burn and disintegrate and fly away. Make like a bird and fly away.

Hanguang-Jun was down. They had no idea where the spirit was. The Juniors and all the townspeople were waiting for them. Sang Meng's survival was looking less and less likely by the minute.

Lan Zhan was down.

"Shijie," He looks up, frowning, "Xianxian doesn't know what to do now."   

[witch-blr]

• inner thoughts • having a small business •

• 00:52am • 3rd august ‘21 •

i own a small business. a witchy shop. it’s been great, for the most part, except for when it just… hasn’t been.

you see, when i started, i wasn’t alone. very quickly and out of the blue, i ended up being alone - that’s ok. i’m glad for the creative freedom and to be able to keep any profits. i can make the big decisions and changes that i want to make.

but… it’s so isolating. i have to make the decisions. i have to sort every problem and answer any query - even those unrelated to my shop. i don’t get a choice.

but i feel lost… lost with all of this. i’m stuck, wondering whether i’ve made the right choice. i don’t earn much money… i’ve actually been losing out. and i’m continuing to lose out. monetary gain is becoming less of an issue, as i managed to adjust my prices (even if sales have slowed down significantly since then), but energetically… i’m depleted.

packing orders, a task i used to love to do so much, has now become a chore. it’s something i dread; i am tired. my bones ache. and once that parcel is made and posted… it’s another stark reminder that my business isn’t as stable and profitable as i need it to be.

to need something so badly that i desire it too much is detrimental to manifesting - but i cannot help needing money to survive. i have bills to pay. i have pets to care for - i have a family to support. universe, if you’re listening, please understand that i do not desire money and wealth for evil. i just wish to provide for my family.

on top of all this, i have lost motivation. i have spikes, sure, where getting new products in and taking the photos turns into a fun afternoon, but when it’s all over i am empty. i have nothing left in me to do anything else. my drive is completely gone.

i spent all day today flapping to take photos, in order to get my new collections out in time for the evening, so i could go live and show off the new stuff. barely anyone even watched. i have never felt so disappointed, anxious, upset and tired after going live for a new product drop.

and now… here i am. redownloading tumblr for the first time in years, just to be able to get my thoughts out. lay in bed next to my fiancé, feeling so disconnected from him and the world… all because of work.

work that was supposed to give my mental health a break - work that enabled me to leave toxic chain retail jobs that destroyed me mentally… and here i am. mentally destroyed, once again… but i cannot leave - i am chained and shackled to this business because i depend on it to live, even if i do not feel like i am living at all.

[shadow-whisperer152]

Father’s Day (Chapter 3)

(Next chapter is up and running! I hope you enjoy!)

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2)

Even to this day, Deceit was baffled at the sheer power Virgil had. Perhaps it had to do with how long he’d been alone. Perhaps it was more about how adorable the little side was. Regardless of the reason, Deceit marveled at the way Virgil changed his life. In the span of three weeks, the Dark Side had gone from being as welcoming as a cold and desolate wasteland, to feeling like an actual home. 

When he’d first been brought inside, Virgil had refused to let him go. No matter how much he patted his back, or mumbled what few comforting words he knew, Virgil would not release him from his tiny grasp. Deceit had sighed, opting for using two pairs of his arms to hold the little one while he went about his day with the other pair. At first it was awkward. He was so unused to having another presence there, much less so firmly planted on his chest, that it was difficult at first to function normally. Cleaning, already a bit of a chore, was more difficult with the little bundle in his arms. Cooking had to be done with the utmost care, to ensure the little one would not get burned or cut in the process. The smell of food, with a little coaxing, was enough to convince the new side to let go as they sat down to eat. Deceit barely ate during that time, too busy making sure that Virgil was eating well and he wasn’t choking or spilling anything, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. That night, he’d made the little one pyjamas using a fresh pillow case, since he didn’t have any little clothes at hand. The tiny side had behaved for as long as it took to get the garment on, then immediately went back to clutching Deceit’s shirt for dear life. Again the lying side couldn’t care less, laying down ever so gently in his bed as they both drifted off to sleep. 

That is more or less how their days went. Deceit got up, got a quick shower, and got dressed. Virgil would sit on the bed, waiting, and when he returned he would make grabby hands until Deceit took him up into his arms. Deceit would go about his day, keeping them both (but mostly Virgil) well fed and hydrated, and at night they would sleep curled up in the same (and only) bed. Many a time, Deceit wondered if Virgil ever noticed anything about his face. After all, he was horrendous. Surely, it must unsettle the younger side, to some degree? But Virgil remained uncaring, or at least, that’s what Deceit thought. Perhaps he was too scared to speak up, to voice his disgust. He hadn’t really said much of anything since they’d met. He began to doubt himself, thinking that, perhaps, the only reason Virgil had yet to flee, was because he was afriad of Deceit. The thought put a bitter taste in Dee’s mouth, making him a little more wary towards the smaller side. 

Soon, however, he discovered all those doubts shouldn’t have bothered him at all. Four days after bringing the new side home for the first time, Deceit woke up in the middle of the night to a quiet weeping. He turned on his night light and, upon further inspection he noticed the little boy was no longer in his arms or in bed with him, but in a corner of the room, curled into the tiniest ball he could manage. Deceit carefully got out of bed, kneeling before him. 

“Little one?” He asked, keeping his voice down. “Whatever is the matter?”

Virgil looked up, fat tears sliding down from all four of his eyes. “B-Bad…..” He whimpered, sniffling.

Deceit frowned, feeling his heart ache. “Bad dream?” He guessed, earning a tiny nod from the small side. Deceit reached forwards, and Virgil practically rammed into his chest, sobbing louder. The long legs protruding from his back curled around Deceit’s rib cage, effectively locking him in place. Deceit summoned his extra arms, wrapping them around Virgil as he carefully got back into bed.

“Care to tell me what it was about?” The lying side had inquired once his sobbing had lessened. Virgil appeared hesitant, biting his bottom lip.

“I-I’m…...I-I’m not….not…do y-you…..” He stammered, trying to get the words out. Deceit waited patiently for him to continue, not wanting to make him feel pressured or forced.

“Yes, little one?” He encouraged. 

Virgil hiccuped a little, eyes tearing up again. “A-Am I s-scary?” He mumbled, followed by another whine. 

Deceit looked at him with wide, confused eyes. “Why no, you’re not. What made you think that you are?”

Virgil hid his face in Dee’s chest, hands and legs tightening. “.....saw a-a b-book.” He said softly. “Bout…..’bout spiders.” 

Deceit mentally chastised himself. He’d been reading up on spiders to better understand Virgil’s needs, since he’d very quickly made the connection upon first laying eyes on him. He’d carelessly assumed the little side was asleep in his lap, but as it turned out, he’d been incorrect. 

“What about the book?” He asked, gently rubbing his back.

“Said…..said spiders a-are….m-mean a-and….s-scary…..a-and people r-run…...r-run away!” He began to cry again, shaking from head to toe. “I don’t w-wanna b-be l-lonely again! Don’t w-want y-you to g-go!”

Deceit stared down at the little side, shocked. He felt tears come to his own eyes as he tried his best to comfort him. “Shhh, it’s okay little one. It’s alright. I’m not going anywhere any time soon.” He told him, ever so gently running his fingers through Virgil’s hair. 

“P-Promise?” He whispered, sounding unsure. Deceit nodded, kissing the top of his crown. 

“I swear it, my spiderling. I’ll never leave you. You’ll never be alone again.”  

Since that night, Virgil began acting differently. He let Deceit go without too much fuss when he had to do things with his hands, but always remained in the same room (or right outside the door if he was in the bathroom). He would talk to him more, and always begged Deceit to read him stories in his down time. Deceit taught him everything he knew about everything, and to his surprise, he found himself wanting to learn more about things so that he could teach them to Virgil. Something about the younger side made him want to do better, to learn more, to be the best parental figure he could be. Virgil became his motivation, his purpose, his reason for being alive. He made toys and collected books from the library to share with him. He found paint and pretty lights, discarded by the Light Sides up above, and used them to decorate a bedroom just for Virgil. Every day he woke up to the little side poking his cheek, or nuzzling into his neck, or up on the wall with his spider legs. And every day he felt himself growing more and more fond of his company. Before he knew it, he was laughing, smiling, playing games, all things he never thought he would be able to do. Waking up and getting out of bed was no longer an impossible task, cooking became a fun family activity, snuggling by the fire on cold nights filled him with more warmth than the flames alone could ever provide. Truly, Virgil was the beauty to his beast, seeing him not as a monster or a freak, but as a caregiver, a friend, a-

“Papa!” Virgil tugged at Deceit’s pant leg. Deceit looked down, smiling at the little boy. Virgil held his arms up, but Deceit could tell his spider legs were holding something behind his back. 

“Yes, Virgil? What is it?” He set aside the book he’d been reading, pulling Virgil up onto his lap. 

“Look!” Virgil twisted around, grabbing a poorly wrapped parcel and handing it over.

“What’s this? A present? For me?” Deceit took it carefully. “It’s not my birthday, is it?”

Virgil shook his head. “It’s Papa’s Day!” He told him, grinning. His smile faded a little, replaced by worry. “A-And you give p-presents on Papa’s Day, right?” 

Deceit planted a kiss on his head. “Yes, you do.” He nodded. “May I open it?”

Virgil nodded, fidgeting a little. The purple spider onesy Deceit had made for him bunched up as he tugged at it, waiting for his reaction.

Deceit carefully unwrapped the present, looking down at it in shock. It was a bowler hat, or at least what was supposed to be a bowler hat. Upon closer inspection, Deceit noticed it was stuck together with messy stitches and spiderwebs, clearly Virgil’s best efforts. 

“Is it okay? D-Do you like it?” Virgil asked, wide eyes looking up at him for confirmation.

“Virgil, I….” Deceit bit back tears as he hugged it to his chest. “I love it, my little spiderling. It’s absolutely perfect.” He put the hat on his head, pulling Virgil close in a warm embrace.

Virgil’s four eyes widened, a huge smile on his face. “Love you, Papa!” He nuzzled into Deceit’s chest. 

Dee rubbed his back, feeling so warm and so happy and so in love. “I love you too, Virgil.”

Deceit received many Father’s Day gifts since then, from both Remus and Virgil, but no other was better than the very first present that had ever been given to him. Father’s Day remained his favorite day of the year, for years to come. Unfortunately, as everyone knows…..

All good things must come to an end. 

(And there you have it! Feel free to like, comment, or reblog!)

[la-plus-heureuse-writer]

Sirius’s Splendid Christmas Set-Up

JILY CHALLENGE December 2019 | @la-plus-heureuse-writer v @just-a-teen-fangirl

Theme: Winter Prompts

Prompt:  my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and oh my gOD i’m sO sorry jily au

——————————————

“You did what?” James stared at Sirius, who looked very pleased with himself.

“Evans was mentioning that Christmas would be hard this year, so I told her we’d be happy to have her.” Sirius gave an enormous, shit-eating grin. “Mum agrees.”

“I do like Lily very much,” Mum said, and ruffled James’ hair. James stepped aside and tried to fix his hair, scowling.

“You should go out with a girl like Lily Evans,” Dad said, lowering his newspaper across the room. “She’d be good for you. Help you settle down.”

“She’s going to think I set you up to this,” James said. He spent enough time trying not to think about how Lily would be good for him. He didn’t need his family to help him.

“Nonsense,” Mum said. “We’ll be on our best behavior. I wouldn’t dream of sabotaging your relationship with Charlotte.”

Charlotte was Charlotte Fay, who claimed that she was descended from Morgana le Fay. She was beautiful, aristocratic, and flighty. She was also, as of two days ago, James’ ex-girlfriend.

Sirius opened his mouth to correct the impression and James elbowed him hard in the ribs. 

“James!” Mum scolded. “There is no reason for you to take your annoyance out on Sirius.”

“Right,” James said, glaring at Sirius. “No reason at all. Why didn’t you invite Moony and Worms if we’re inviting people over?”

“They were busy with their families,” Sirius said in a lofty voice. “You know how important family is around the holiday.” Mum went and hugged Sirius. Sirius had been surprisingly quiet throughout the Christmas holiday so far. James’ frustration with his best mate softened. He was probably thinking of Regulus.

“That’s right,” Mum said. “Family matters.” She looked directly at James.

“Fine,” James said. “But no comments on my dating life.”

“I would never,” said Sirius. Behind the newspaper Dad snorted. 

Sirius took charge of all the plans, approving a goose and suggesting that perhaps they roast, not boil, the brussels sprouts this year. James kept out of the way. He found he could spend hours in the air, drilling himself through the ever-shifting magical obstacle course that his Dad had arranged to be set up outside Godric’s Hollow. It helped his mood to come back tired and hungry and not thinking of Lily.

Lily Evans. Clever at charms and potions. Lily Evans, who was kind to everyone and didn’t take shit from anyone. Lily Evans, who he had been in love with for years. 

On Christmas Eve over cocoa and shortbread Sirius informed the family that Lily would be arriving tomorrow at three.

“Great,” James said, trying to sound bored by the whole thing.

“And we will be on our best behavior, my dear,” Dad said, taking a great sip of cocoa. The whipped cream in his mug was so high that it almost obscured his white mustache. 

“Of course, Fleamont,” Mum said warmly. “We wouldn’t want to embarrass James.”

“We would never want to embarrass Jamesy, now would we?” Dad said. James rolled his eyes. 

At ten minutes to three on Christmas Day, there was a crack outside the door then a knock. Lily Evans had arrived.

“Hullo,” she said, holding something wrapped in crumpled looking silver paper. She glanced nervously around, beaming at Sirius and giving James a tentative smile. He smiled back. Mum saw.

“Hello Lily dear, and welcome,” she said. Dad stepped forward and took the parcel, which Lily informed them was a loaf of her gram’s brown bread- an old family recipe. Sirius offered to take Lily’s coat. Under her tidy black coat Lily was wearing a smart blouse, a red skirt, and a pair of stockings. Her skirt was just a bit shorter than James expected. He wondered if it was a deliberate choice, because she had beautiful legs. Lily saw James’ eyes linger and she flushed. James swallowed hard. He didn’t even have to say anything to embarrass both of them.

“Can I get you a drink, Lily?” he said, trying to sound collected. “We have elf made wine, firewhiskey, butterbear…” he trailed off.

Lily furrowed her brow. “Maybe- maybe a gillywater. With a splash of cranberry if you have it.”

“Right,” James said and went off to the sitting room where they kept the alcohol. Mum was showing Lily about the house. He poured her drink, the fizzy gillywater mixed with the cranberry cordial and ice. And he poured himself a dram of firewhiskey. He had a feeling he’d need it.

The door opened. “Is that for me?” Lily was there, and she was alone.

James smiled at her. “It is.” He handed it to her and watched as she took her first sip. Her eyes closed as she swallowed. She was so lovely it almost hurt.

“I'm sorry, by the way.”

“Sorry for what? For inviting me? I was a little surprised to get the invitation from you and then only hear from Sirius after.”

“What?” James sputtered. He raked his hand through his hair. “That dog. I’m going to kill him.”

Lily laughed, a bright sound. “I’m kidding. Sirius invited me. Although he might have alluded to you wanting to see me too.”

James’s heart started beating again.”That’s not funny.”

“It’s very funny,” Lily said, and James smiled at her.

“Fine. But no, I’m sorry for my family. They’ve decided we would be good together. You’ll have to endure plenty of amateur matchmaking today.”

“Are you certain it’s amateur?” Lily said. “Because I can withstand an amateur. If it’s advanced matchmaking, I can’t promise how it will turn out.”

James laughed. He was supposed to be the one to make her laugh. “Very amateur. Promise.”

“Well, then, we’ll have to be allies in withstanding their advances.” 

Having Lily as his ally worked much better than having her as his enemy. When Dad commented about James’ most recent Quidditch game, Lily smiled and started to detail one of his recent games. When Sirius started talking about transfiguration, Lily sighed and said she wished that she was as good at transfiguration as James was. It was a brilliant strategy. Just let them think they were winning, and then they didn’t have to resist them. It made the whole dinner enjoyable

The food was delicious, Sirius’ efforts all being well worth it. James was making the whole table laugh. Dad was pouring elf-made wine for everyone, and Lily’s brown bread turned out to be a sweet. A very good sweet, which she insisted that they all eat with a spread of butter. James raked his hand through his hair, feeling more relaxed than he had thought he could.

Dad saw him. “Jamie, when are you going to cut all that hair?”

“Never,” James said, and flashed him a smile.

Dad shook his head. “My own son, making a mockery of my life’s work. Lily, don’t you think that James would look nice with a haircut?”

Lily flushed. “I- I think that James looks quite nice now.” She hurriedly looked down at her plate. Dad started to complain about the cost of potions ingredients instead. James heard almost nothing of it. 

They went to the sitting room to have their annual Christmas Mischievous Mancala tournament, where the stones were likely to disappear at any point. Lily was quiet. James caught her eye and she gave a sheepish smile. 

James tried to stop the racing thoughts. He and Lily could maybe be friends, nothing more. Just because he liked her did not mean she would like him. Instead he focused on watching the game between Sirius and Lily.

One stone remained in Sirius’ tray, and then suddenly all of Lily’s stones disappeared.

“Victory!” he crowed. 

“Luck,” Lily argued.

“As all victory is,” Sirius said, and the clock chimed nine.

“I should be going,” Lily said. James stood. 

“I’ll show you out,” he said. He fetched their coats and they walked out into the front garden.

“It was very nice of your family to have me over,” Lily said. 

“I’m glad you came. I’m sorry we kept you from your family,” James said. 

“My family went to my sister’s fiance's home, and he’s wretched.” Lily rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I was grateful for the excuse. You’re lucky, you know. Your family is really- loving.”

“They were all on their best behavior playing matchmaker,” James said. “So thanks for being a good sport.”

“It was fun,” Lily said. She hesitated. “I would have thought Charlotte would have been here.”

“We broke up. Right at the start of the holiday.”

“Oh,” Lily said, and her eyes grew wide. She bit her lip. “I’m sorry.” She was offering sympathy. Like a friend would. Easy to respond to. 

“I’m not,” James said, feeling bold. Lily’s eyes darkened. 

“Well then,” Lily said, and she swiftly stepped forward and kissed him.

Her lips were gentle and warm, but the kiss was firm. Just like Lily. Strong and soft all in one, with a gentle heart and an iron will. She broke the kiss off, and stepped back, catching his eyes.

“I hope that wasn’t inappropriate,” she said. “I just-”

“Lily,” James said. His voice sounded ragged. He pulled her back towards her and kissed her again, reveling in the feeling of her.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Lily asked after a long kiss. 

“Nothing,” James said. He would change any plan for her.

“Come over to mine. My sister and her fiance are perfectly dreadful, and I’d like to introduce them to my dastardly wizard boyfriend.”

“Am I your boyfriend?” James tried to joke, but his heart felt like he was flying.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” he said, and kissed her again.

When James went back inside Mum and Dad were pretending to read. Sirius was building a card castle. 

“You were out there long,” Sirius said, arching a languid eyebrow at James.

“Shove it.” James was too happy to have real emphasis behind the words.

“I’m happy for you, Jamie,” Mum said. “I knew that it was only a matter of time when I heard you had broken up with that Charlotte girl.”

Sirius shrugged at James’s accusatory look. “Can’t keep things from your family, mate. Merry Christmas and all.” 

“Merry Christmas,” James said, not able to even pretend to be mad, his heart still light. 

[formalmess]

For Your Entertainment ~ Chapter Eleven

Summary: Luigi gets help and Peasley receives a visitor.

Warnings: Gore, Character Death, Murder

”D-Daisy…”

Luigi’s chest dropped as he watched the last signs of life escape his friend in the form of unceremonious bubbles, Daisy’s corpse floating within her final watery resting place. He sobbed out her name in vain, his stomach twisting painfully as his knees gave away, stumbling back.

”Luigi, my boy.” E. Gadd approached him, his glasses clouded and face pale. He gripped Luigi’s shoulders, trying to help steady the trembling man. “Are you okay? Stand up, young feller!”

Luigi didn’t respond. He was numb, gaze locked upon the screens. “Daisy… D-Daisy…!” The weight of her passing hit Luigi all at once, his sobs turning to screams. “N-No...! NO! DAISY!”

”What is-?” E. Gadd turned around. “What’s going on?!”

”Bravo!” 

From within the recording, Dimentio suddenly spoke up.

The three standing in the lab jolted, moving to focus on the screens surrounding them.

Not yet finished, Dimentio stood up and waved his hands in the air dramatically.

”That was quite the performance, was it not?” His maliciously chilling voice continued without an air of sympathy as he circled the golden box. “Wouldn’t have expected any less from my most devoted and fesity of assistants. Putting up a fight until the very end! What a spectacle, indeed.”

He circled Daisy’s floating corpse in the execution tank with a smile on his face, lifting a gloved finger to his chin in thought. “I do suppose I was partially to blame for the exhaustion that ultimately sealed her fate, though…” Dimentio mused with a sigh. 

He laughed.  “But who am I to resist a game of cat and mouse when presented with it? Only a fool would pass up such an opportunity. Even if the other contender in the game gets worn out, it’s all the same to me! A bit of fun before the show. Certainly a fine way to loosen up a bit before playing the role of host…”

”Oh Grambi, no…” Peasley held a hand over his face, grimacing as he lowered his head, trying not to imagine Dimentio’s cruel titters of delight from when he snatched the Sarasan Princess away. “I can’t even imagine…”

”-But!” Dimentio continued. “Speaking of exhaustion… I do believe my audience is deserving of a bit of a break. Wouldn’t you agree, my flower dame?”

Silence was all that answered.

”Ah, right… Dead.” Dimentio mumbled. He shook his head, clapping his hands together. “Well, in any case, I won’t see to it that I bore my audience with the same old tricks! Why, I need time to prepare for the show’s finale, after all!”

Dimentio turned his attention to the camera, keeping a hand up against the execution box he’d created.

”So consider this your intermission, everyone. Stretch, maybe get some snacks, rest up... Our regularly scheduled program will start again soon!" 

Dimentio further pressed his gloved palm down on the golden box in the middle of the room, grinning madly as his yellow eye twinkled upon examining Daisy's body.

"My assistant will be more than happy to send you off... with a bang!"

He disappeared with a snap of his fingers, laughing.

Without warning, the golden box containing Daisy’s body exploded, the swirling contents inside meshing together in a horrific combination of dark ash and sparks, blood splattering against the yellow sheet of glass.

Bloodied water flooded the camera’s view.

The tape cut to black.

                                                 - - - - - - - - - -

Dimentio kept true to his word.

After the three shakily exited the lab, composing one another despite their festering terror, they soon realized there was nothing to fear. Nothing else in the manor was amiss, and none of the ghosts reported any sightings of the jester.

As the hours passed that evening and the night turned to a clear sunny day, it was made very clear Dimentio’s intentions of giving his grief-stricken audience a break were truthful. He didn't attack, torment, send letters or parcels... It was almost as if he'd gone dormant, the cruel beast locked away for the time being.

Paranoia tore at their fragile subconscious, however, constantly reminding them they weren't safe and that he could strike at any time, to whisk them away to a horrific fate.

But, for now, everything was tranquil. Nothing was wrong. Everything was okay.

E. Gadd took it upon himself to ensure Luigi and his spouse felt happy and comfortable in Evershade Valley upon seeing how upset they were after the video incident. And despite the hesitation at first, the pair did stay.

E. Gadd put lots of work into sprucing up Gloomy Manor for his guests, dusting up cobwebs and fixing furniture with the help of various ghosts. Luigi and Peasley also helped despite E. Gadd’s protests, claiming this was his job, and that the two boys should just relax. But, they insisted they help, using it as an opportunity to distract themselves. Peasley decorated the main foyer and entrance with tens upon tens of yellow roses he’d collected, having been waiting for an opportunity to display them somewhere. He filled the large vases by the doors, telling Luigi that it’d be a nice thing to come home to.

Luigi was already quite familiar with the property from his ghost-hunting days, which made it easy for cleaning up. As they tidied up their new and hopefully permanent abode, Luigi seemed to recognize every nook and cranny, telling Peasley tales of his past adventures.

The stories helped to comfort Luigi, and having the ghosts assist in their efforts to clean certainly helped in making him feel better. The gesture turned something that was once terrifying seem familiar and comforting, much like how he’d been when first adopting Polterpup. The spectral pup himself seemed much happier living in Gloomy Manor, playing by their feet while his owners worked. He even tried to help in his own way, ripping up shreds of paper and curtains that were caked with dust or broken. 

As the days passed, Luigi adapted to the new setting as well.

Keeping his thoughts away from Dimentio, Luigi managed to calm himself down. He often mediated and read to himself in the library with Polterpup on his lap, left to calm himself down when his thoughts began to wander. Peasley would always accompany Luigi wherever he went to ensure his safety, helping whenever it was necessary.

Mario had even sent a letter to the manor, calming Luigi's growing anxieties tenfold. Luigi came to Peasley in jubilant tears one morning to show him the letter, written in Mario's own handwriting with bolded red ink.

’I'll be back soon, Weegie. I miss you a lot, and I'm sorry I haven't been there for you. As soon as I get there, we'll figure this out together. I'm on my way.’

Luigi knew Mario most likely didn't even know what had befallen upon them all. Not the full story, at least. Luigi didn't want to tell him everything. Not all at once.

Not about the Princess...

Luigi shook his head and pocketed the letter, continuing to try and distract himself with menial activities. Peasley did his very best to try and keep Luigi feeling secure and happy as the days passed by.

Luigi's panicked jitters and horrific nightmares began to subside as the days turned to a single month, leaving everyone in the manor and valley feeling much more at ease. The change was almost unprecedented, but no one objected or complained. E. Gadd was pleased to see Luigi's condition bettering, always offering him time to himself.

But, the professor did still request a weekly meeting with Luigi and Peasley to catch up on things in between vigorous lab work. He never saw the boys during the week and wanted the opportunity to see them once in awhile. Their meetings were fun and light-hearted, E. Gadd usually telling bad jokes over tea and snacks. 

Today’s meeting was quieter than usual though. E. Gadd had lost most of his eccentricities, now silent and twiddling his thumbs across from Peasley and Luigi.

"Now... boys,” E. Gadd began, sitting up as he held his hands together. “I know you two have been rather stressed, as of late. But, I wanted to ask you two something. It's just an idea, so hear me out."

Peasley and Luigi glanced up from their separate cups of tea, exchanging a glance. 

"What is it, professor?"

E. Gadd took a breath, and then began. "Earlier today I was in Toad Town, just looking for parts for my next big invention.” He grinned. “Which, might I add, will be quite the revolutionary project, something generations will be studying for years to c-...”

He paused, clearing his throat as he turned to Luigi and Peasley, both with puzzled expressions. 

“Ahem, sorry, got a bit off-track there. Anyhoo, I ran into an odd fellow on the streets. He was wearing the most peculiar outfit, a purple cloak draped over his head and a crystal ball in his arms. He stopped me, noticing I was looking rather pale, and asked if I needed any help. Now, my complexion is my business, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't the least bit shaken from... the incident, that happened a few weeks ago."

"But still,” he continued hastily. “I explained that, and I apologize for letting this slip without your consent, young fellers, but I informed him of your, uh, condition, right now. Rather fragile, the pair of you are. He explained he was a doctor. Lives in Toad Town, not far from here at all. 

“You both need to cope somehow, and I just thought it would be better if you two see a medical professional rather than just bottling it up yourselves. These talks are doing some good, I would hope, but there's not much I can do except offer some words of encouragement. I know not the slightest thing about how the mind works, only what makes gears turn and cogs spin.

“It’s only an idea, but he gave me his information if you two might be interested." He handed over a card he'd been keeping in his lab coat pocket, handing it over to Luigi. Luigi looked the small card over, tilting his head curiously.

It was labelled with the name ‘Dr. Toadley’ and gave the address to Toadley Clinic. The name sounded familiar to Luigi, but he didn’t exactly recall why.

”He said he mainly focuses on having one client at a time, just for an hour session. And he also told me your first session would be completely free. Just tell him I sent you. He seems like a nice-enough fellow, albeit a bit odd, but who isn’t a little odd nowadays?”

"Luigi, this sounds like a marvelous opportunity for you!” Peasley spoke up, setting his tea cup down.

”What? B-But, what about you? I don’t want to leave you alone!”

”I’ll be fine!” Peasley smiled. “Besides, someone’s gotta look after Polterpup while you’re out.”

Polterpup, who was licking up the crumbs that’d fallen to the ground, yipped and perked his head up upon hearing his name.

”I… I don’t know. I’ve been pretty okay, lately…? I don’t n-need-“

”Luigi, my boy, you need help. I’m no professional, but you’ve been out of it for several days these past few weeks. Seeing you cry breaks my old heart, son.”

”But… what if… h-he? While I’m walking to Toad Town, if-?”

”I’ll have some ghosts accompany you, my boy. No one will mess with you when they’re around. Hoho! They’ll be too scared outta their skin.”

”I… I…”

Peasley reached forward, grabbing Dr. Toadley’s card and slipping it back into Luigi’s hands. He held them comfortingly, smiling. “This will be a good break for you, darling. Try and tell him everything. I’m sure he’ll be able to help you.”

”But, I don’t want… I don’t want to remember...”

”I know it hurts. It hurts me every day to think about it too. But, you can’t keep it to yourself any longer. It’s going to hurt you so much more if you do.”

Luigi looked into Peasley’s concerned gaze for a moment before turning to glance at E. Gadd, who also nodded.

”O… Okay.”

                                                - - - - - - - - - -

“I-I’ll only be gone for an hour.” Luigi spoke shakily. “I’ll be in Toad Town…”

“I know, Luigi. Just an hour. You’ll be back before dark, right?”

“Yeah. A-And E. Gadd is just next door, if you need him, for whatever reason.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“Y-Your sword! Do you have your sword on you? Just in case.”

“Yes, darling. I always have it on me.”

“Lock the door behind me, p-please.”

“I will, darling.” Peasley smiled. “Goodness, shouldn’t I be the one worried about YOU? It’s been quite awhile since we were last in Toad Town. You be careful out there, Luigi. Come back home safe. Stay close to the ghosts.”

Peasley gestured forward. A group of various ghosts stood just outside the door, a rather large Slammer right by Luigi’s side.

“Y-Yeah. I will. I just… I want you to be safe, Peasley...”

“Just try and calm down, my love. Clear your mind. Remember what Snoozemore taught you about deep breathing?”

“I… All Snoozemore reminds me of is… i-is...”

“I know, darling. You can tell Toadley about it. He’s the professional, I’m sure he’ll be able to help. Be sure to not spare any details. He won’t be able to help if you don’t tell him everything.”

Luigi nodded shakily, holding back tears. “Yeah…”

Peasley leaned forward and hugged Luigi tightly, trying to soothe his shivering. “It’ll be okay. Just try and calm down. I love you so much, Luigi. Be safe out there.”

Luigi nodded into Peasley’s shoulder, sniffling. Peasley leaned back and kissed Luigi on the nose, smiling.

“I love you.”

Luigi went to respond when he jolted at the abrupt sound of barking from behind Peasley, Luigi glancing up just in time to see Polterpup jumping up on his legs.

“O-Oh, hello, doggy…!” Luigi muttered as he bent down to pet Polterpup on the head. “I can’t play right now, I gotta go, boy... I’ll be back soon, though…!”

“Polterpup, stay in the house, please.” Peasley playfully chided as he pushed the spectral dog back. He picked him up, smiling. “Well, I suppose we can both see you off then?”

Luigi nodded slowly, turning and taking a deep breath. His ghostly companions led him down the porch steps toward the road. Glancing back, Luigi smiled as he made eye contact with Peasley again, who was still standing out on the porch.

“Bye, darling!” Peasley waved, blowing a kiss in Luigi’s direction. “See you later tonight!”

Peasley watched Luigi go until he was out of sight. He set Polterpup down on the ground of the manor’s entrance, letting the dog run off as he shut the front doors behind him.

Peasley exhaled before walking down the corridor from the entrance, going toward the main hall. He shivered slightly from a sudden cold draft of air through the windows, the suits of armor looming ominously along the walls certainly not helping with Peasley’s unease as he went.

Once in the main hall, he made his way toward the downstairs corridor, holding his sides as he went into the library. A fire was weakly crackling in the fireplace, coating the room in a warmth that easily relaxed Peasley’s anxious shivers. The gentle glow soothed him as he walked into the kitchen, entering from the side door off of the library.

He removed a package of coffee beans shipped to him from the Beanbean Kingdom from one of the cabinets, setting it down on the counter. He silently made himself a cup of coffee, only the sounds of the whirring machine and trickling liquid being there to accompany him.

He froze as he felt an abrupt wet sensation on his legs, turning around feverishly in panicked shock, only to be met with Polterpup sitting behind him. The ghastly dog tilted his head, panting as he sat and rubbed up against Peasley’s legs, licking them again.

”O-Oh, it’s just you. Hah, you scared me, little guy...”

Peasley smiled as he went to pet the dog before the beeping of the machine caught his attention, turning to pick up his cup.

He set off towards the library again, Polterpup trotting close behind him. He seated himself in one of the velvet lined chairs, almost hidden beneath stacks of books. He picked up one of them to read, skimming over the cover as he sat.

Peasley took a short sip of his freshly brewed coffee, exhaling. Polterpup barked from below him.

“What is it, boy?”

Polterpup whined, his puppy-dog eyes widening.

“What do you want?” Peasley laughed, pointing to his drink. “Do you want some coffee? Hah, just because Luigi isn’t here doesn’t mean you can have caffeine. I don’t think he’d appreciate that.”

Polterpup yipped, playfully licking Peasley’s hand as he bent down to pet him. He then jumped up on the chair, squirming under Peasley’s arms before snuggling up against the prince’s chest.

Peasley ran a hand over Polterpup’s back, smiling. He leaned on his arm as he settled into his seat, setting down his cup on the table at his side. He picked up his book, opening it up and beginning to read.

The hour passed by slowly. Every minute, Peasley wanted nothing more than for Luigi to come back. The ticking of the ornate grandfather clock in the corner of the room only heightened his anxiety. He tapped his foot anxiously.

Polterpup stirred at the trembling movement, glancing up at Peasley curiously.

“Did I wake you? Sorry, Polterpup. I’m just a bit worried. It’s almost been a little over an hour, and he’s not back…” Peasley bit his lip, setting his book down. “Do you think he’s alright?”

Polterpup whined in response, nuzzling his head into Peasley’s chest.

“M-Maybe we should go find him. It’s getting late, and I know how much he hates when it gets dark outside…” Peasley mused, lifting a hand to his cheek. “How about we go pick him up, together? How’s that sound, boy?” Peasley tried to relieve his thoughts by sounding optimistic, but it didn’t help much.

Polterpup yipped, jumping off of Peasley’s lap and nearly knocking over a stack of books as he ran toward the doors, clawing at the wood. Peasley pushed open the door, but Polterpup still phased through the walls and doors, the pup rather impatient.

“Hey, slow down! Not all of us can just go straight through walls, you know!” Peasley playfully scolded as he ran after Polterpup.

Entering the main hall, Peasley watched as Polterpup briefly waited for Peasley to ensure he was still following before immediately bolting through the doors leading to the entrance, barking loudly as he went.

“Polterpup!” Peasley called as he opened the doors to the corridor. The same cold draft of air hit him as he entered, squinting down the hall as he started toward the entrance.

Oddly enough, he couldn’t hear Polterpup anymore.

He stiffened upon hearing shuffling on the other side of the doors, pausing in his tracks.

“Luigi?” He questioned as he pushed open the doors, glancing around the entrance hall carefully as he walked in. “Luigi, is that you-?”

He froze.

“Ahahahaha! Look who finally decided to show up!”

Peasley could practically feel his heart stop at the sound of the now-familiar laughter. He stepped back instinctively, horrified at the smiling figure standing before him.

Dimentio stood dressed in his usual garb, a violet and yellow cape draped over his shoulders. The bells on his jester hat jingled as he moved his head, smiling eerily. His mask was almost completely fixed, but small pieces of it were still broken. The jester was holding a snarling Polterpup in his arms, the dog furiously trying to escape his hold, but Dimentio’s expression didn’t change.

“Ah, it’s always a pleasure to meet my hapless victims before the show. Especially you! Why, I feel as though we should’ve had this meeting ages ago.”

His smile only grew as he relished in Peasley’s absolute terror.

“Ahahaha! You almost look surprised, princey!”

Peasley refused to respond, merely keeping his distance.

“Don’t act so shocked, you had to have known this was coming. Even the most dense of imbeciles would have been able to guess I wouldn’t let Luigi’s darling husband just get out of this alive, right? Or perhaps that’s your foolishness at work again?” Dimentio laughed cruelly. “Mr. ‘Oh, he’ll leave us alone if we just wait it out!’, Mr. ‘Maybe he’ll just give up!’, how I am ever-so-pleased to meet your acquaintance at last!”

Polterpup growled in Dimentio’s hold, baring his teeth before chomping down on Dimentio’s hand. Dimentio released a shrill shriek, glaring at Polterpup.

Dimentio’s porcelain smile twisted into a frown. “Miserable creature...”

He snapped his fingers, Polterpup releasing a final growl and sharp yelp before he disappeared from sight, seemingly into thin air.

“Polterpup!” Peasley held back a horrified scream. “W-What did you just do-?!”

“Oh, the mutt’s fine! I just sent him off to my own little pocket dimension for a bit. I just got the place tidied up, after all.”

Peasley stepped back, trying to keep himself from shivering. He reached behind him, grabbing the door handle.

”Well, now that that distraction is out of the way…”

Dimentio held out a hand for Peasley to shake, to which Peasley responded by stepping back further.

”Oh, what? You’re not going to shake my hand? Too good for that, I suppose.” Dimentio scoffed, lowering his outstretched hand. “Fine. Be impolite then.”

Peasley ignored Dimentio as he reached to his side, moving to grab the hilt of his sword.

”No introductions will be necessary for me, I suppose. Surely you know who I am, and you must know exactly why I’m here. Why, you’re my next act, after all!”

”I-I’m not afraid of you, Dimentio.” Peasley spoke confidently.

”Ahaha… Now that’s a laugh! You can say that all you like, but it won’t change a thing. You’re uncontrollably shaking, like a leaf desperately clinging onto a tree during the coldest and foulest of winter days…”

Dimentio floated forward, hovering off the ground slightly. He moved fluidly, his mismatched eyes watching Peasley’s every movement as he leered at him. 

“I suppose you must be curious about what your role during my show may entail. I would just hate to spoil the surprise, but let’s just say it will be quite the show-stopper! Quite a fun welcome back from our short intermission.”

Dimentio suddenly appeared beside Peasley, teleporting to his left side and pushing him back into the middle of the entrance hall. Peasley broke his composure, having lost the grip on his sword.

“No, you won’t be the finale of my show, I’m sorry to say. And you won’t even be the first prince I’ve had onstage either! Aw, what a shame, indeed. I know how much that must hurt your egotistical heart, not being important at all to the program…” Dimentio mockingly pouted, running a finger down his mask to imitate a tear.

Dimentio hoisted Peasley to his feet, staring into his eyes.

“But, you’ll still be a marvelous addition… I’ve planned a very special trick for you.”

Peasley pulled himself out of Dimentio’s grip, stumbling away. He reached to the table along the wall, picking up one of the flower vases he’d put out. As soon as Dimentio lunged toward him again, Peasley slammed the vase over Dimentio’s head, the sound of glass shattering filling the otherwise silent entrance hall.

Dimentio clambered backward, reaching a hand up to his now-broken mask shakily. Black liquid spilt from the cracks onto his gloved hands, thick streams of pure jet-black fluid dripping down the white side of his mask.

Peasley staggered back momentarily before he turned on his heel and bolted away from the entrance hall, rushing out of sight as he dashed down the corridor.

“We’re playing rough, then…? Fine. I can deal with that…”

Dimentio wiped away at the black liquid trickling down his face, his cracked smile twitching.

“Let the games begin.”

                                               - - - - - - - - - -

“T-Thank you, again, Dr. Toadley, f-for everything.” Luigi’s meek voice trembled slightly as he spoke.

The meeting at the clinic had gone much better than he originally thought it would, feeling a sense of renewal fill his chest. It had gone a little longer than he would’ve liked, but the time spent further delving into ways to cope certainly helped.

”It's just been really hard to talk about that kinda stuff lately…”

“Are you feeling better now? Of course you are.” Toadley spoke quickly, brushing his hands off on his cloak. The blackened coat draped over his head concealed most of his features, but Luigi didn’t complain. Eye contact made him nervous. “Will I see you again? I assume so. My services have proven themselves formidable to you, correct?”

“Yes-”

“Of course I’m correct. Stop by the clinic at any time. My intern will see to it that you’re first in line for my services.”

“T-Thank you, Dr. Toadley.” Luigi smiled. “I-I really am feeling a lot better.”

“Happy to hear. Now, hurry on home.” Toadley spoke hastily. “Tell E. Gadd I said hello. And Luigi?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget our talk. You have an unseen potential. I foresee you doing great things.” 

“T-Thank you! And will do. I-I’ll probably see you later…!”

Luigi rushed out of Toadley Clinic to the waiting group of ghosts, a smile on his face. He waved goodbye to Dr. Toadley, who saw him off at the door.

The ghosts led their mortal companion back to Evershade Valley, chattering back and forth.

The doctor grinned as he watched Luigi go. But his smile was not his own.

He’d completed his assigned task.

For, what Luigi failed to notice upon his leaving, was the small green sprout curled around Toadley’s cranium.

                                               - - - - - - - - - -

Peasley ran without stopping.

He couldn’t breathe, his vision hazy with tears and his heart pounding in his ears. His skull rattled as he tried to compose himself, attempting to catch his breath. He couldn’t stop for anything.

Dimentio would catch him if he stopped.

Peasley pushed open the doors leading into the main hall, stopping in the middle of the room. His eyes feverishly darted around the space, trying to find the most optimal place to hide.

He turned on his heel as he heard the sharp sound of Dimentio whistling, bells jingling from the corridor behind him.

He quickly darted into the coatroom, hiding himself behind the safety of the closed door. He kept it open though, just by a crack, to keep watch on Dimentio should he come close. He secured a hand on his sword’s hilt.

The doors to the corridor were flung open, Dimentio floating into the middle of the main hall. He turned his head upwards, still holding a hand over his cracked mask as he did.

“Oooh, Peasley!” Dimentio’s sickly sweet voice crackled for a moment, calling out into the silent house excitedly. “Come out, come out, wherever you areee~!”

Peasley kept his hands clamped over his mouth, trying to keep his panicked breathing to a minimum.

Dimentio paused, glancing around, waltzing around the vicinity. Peasley watched his every movement, trying to steady his breathing as he dug his arms into his chest, as though that would stop his heart from beating so quickly.

The air was still.

Without warning or reason, Dimentio sharply turned his head to stare directly at Peasley, his single yellow eye glowing. 

From behind the crack in the door, Peasley nearly lost his breath when gasping out a horrified cry, pulling his sword out of the scabbard on his belt.

But, Dimentio didn’t approach him, instead going up the stairs to the second floor.

Peasley glanced down, allowing a sigh of relief to escape him as he crept out of the room upon Dimentio’s leaving. He tested the floorboards, the old wood creaking with each step he took. He huffed, bolting across the main hall to the corridor he’d entered from. He pulled on the handles, but the door had been locked. 

He panicked, rushing into the downstairs corridor on the other side of the room, shutting the door behind him and gulping down saliva as he anxiously tried to steady his breathing.

Peasley went into the nearest room, the door creaking with age as he did.

He went to cover his nose as he entered, shutting the door behind him.

Something smelt… awful. It was almost like something was on fire, but the lack of light from any such fire was clear as he was consumed by complete darkness as soon as the door shut behind him. He groped the wall for a light, unable to see anything in the pitch blackness.

He flicked what he thought to be a switch, turning on the lights overhead.

The sight that greeted him made him wish he’d hadn’t.

E. Gadd’s corpse sat in a wooden chair in the center of what had once been his laboratory, strapped down. His pale skin was charred and rotting, his head lowered, blood having spewed from his mouth. His glasses lay shattered on the ground at his feet.

Peasley screamed at the sight. The stench of burnt flesh assaulted Peasley’s senses as he staggered back, holding his hands over his mouth.

He stiffened as he heard someone moving in the hall just behind him, quickly shutting off the lights in the lab and crouching down behind an old machine.

Dimentio entered curiously, the light pouring in from the hallway being the only indication of his expression as he went into the lab.

“I know you’re in here…” Dimentio spoke in a sing-song tone. “Don’t try to hide from me...”

Peasley scooted toward the door that Dimentio had left open, trying to slip past his wandering gaze.

“You must’ve seen my little project. Hard to miss, isn’t it?” Dimentio laughed shortly. “I personally don’t think it’s my best work, but it’ll suffice. You should’ve heard the old man screaming! I’m quite shocked you didn’t actually… These walls are quite thin, you know.”

Peasley crawled towards the door on his hands and knees, trying to keep his sword from scraping on the ground.

He didn’t notice in the darkness, however, a small toolbox lying on the ground in front of his hands. He hit it as he tried passing, the clinking of metal making Dimentio spin around, chuckling.

“There you are~!”

Peasley screamed as Dimentio fired a star-like projectile toward him, blasting one of the machines in the lab to pieces. Peasley avoided the blast, coughing and darting out of the abandoned laboratory and running back into the main hall.

Only to run directly into Dimentio again.

Peasley screamed, glancing back over his shoulder feverishly.

“H-How did you-?!”

Peasley slipped past him, Dimentio watching Peasley as he dashed up the stairs, firing another projectile in his direction. Nearly tripping over several steps, Peasley quickly turned at the top, running into the upstairs corridor. He slammed the door behind him, locking it and barricading himself in.

“Yes, run as much as you like, but you won’t be able to escape!” Dimentio called, his playful voice echoing through the winding hallways of the mansion. 

Peasley couldn't help the tears from streaming down his face, hopelessly sobbing as he realized he was trapped. He was trapped in his own home with a psychotic jester who wanted nothing more than to steal him away for a twisted show of his own creation. 

He turned his head, running his hands through his hair anxiously as he tried to steady his breathing, nearly choking on his saliva as he gasped out in short breaths. Running further down the hall, he threw open the door to the bedroom he and Luigi were now sharing, shutting the door behind him. He breathed out choked sobs, guttural sounds of pain escaping his lips as he hugged himself.

He had never felt so powerless and alone. He could try jumping out of a window, but that would probably end in his death. He didn’t know what outcome he feared more.

Turning his attention back to the bedroom’s interior, he noticed Luigi’s pajamas strewn on the bed and the covers pulled back, the pair having not made their bed that morning. Today was supposed to be a lazy casual day.

Peasley blinked away tears, rushing over to the wooden vanity in the back of the room. He snatched up a piece of parchment that was lying atop it, having originally been meant for writing a letter back to his mother in the Beanbean Kingdom.

But, right now, all he could think about was Luigi. He had to make sure Luigi knew what had happened. He had to protect him.

He began to write, his hands shaking so much that his words were barely coherent, looking more like scribbles than anything else. 

An abrupt crash sounded from the hallway. Peasley bit down on his tongue to keep from screaming.

Terrified, Peasley crouched down with the letter clutched close to his chest. His eyes darted about the bedroom, looking for anywhere to hide, soon flattening himself against the ground and crawling under the bed. He curled his body up, hiding in the darkness amongst the musty floorboards. 

He breathed in short spurts, attempting to finish his letter despite not being able to see. The sliver of moonlight from the window was all he had, his words trembling and ugly, messily strewn about. Tears stained the paper, the words smudged.

He just hoped Luigi could somewhat read it. That’s all he needed.

He froze upon hearing more shuffling in the corridor, the door to the parlor in the next room over creaking open. He was getting closer.

Tears trickled down Peasley’s face onto the parchment, blurring the already almost incoherent words as he fought back the urge to start sobbing loudly at the thought that this would be his last interaction with Luigi, ever.

He would never see his homeland again. He would never see his mother. His friends. His husband.

Dimentio had already taken so many.

And he was next.

He buried his mouth in his hand, biting down on his skin to keep himself from making too much noise in fear that Dimentio might hear him. He still shivered, his heart pounding as tears continued to fall. He kept a hand held over the letter to ensure the inked words wouldn’t smudge anymore, but he couldn’t stop himself from crying.

He didn’t want to die.

He continued the message, signing his name shakily, his letters unreadable and his signature unsteady.

‘Luigi I love you so much

don’t let him take you. don’t let him find you.

please never forget how much I love you

please

peasley’

He suddenly froze, petrified in horror as he heard Dimentio’s voice.

“Still hiding, are we?”

He was in the bedroom.

Peasley glanced up, holding back tears and sniffles as Dimentio searched, looking into the closet and sifting through clothing. He stepped back.

“Not where I thought you’d be, then…” Dimentio chuckled. “Hmm, now if I were a stupid little naive prince… Where would I hide?”

Dimentio paused right beside Peasley’s hiding spot, having stopped floating as he lowered himself to the ground, just outside Peasley’s vision. The prince scooted backwards further, trembling. He was terrified that Dimentio might be able to hear his heart practically beating out of his chest.

“Well, let’s see. Not in the closet. He could be hiding under the bed… oh, but that’s the oldest trick in the book! Certainly, even the most dim-witted of fools wouldn’t be caught in such a place! That would be an embarrassment!” The smile on his face could be heard.

Dimentio stood still for a few moments, just inches away from Peasley. He held back a sob as Dimentio stepped toward him, humming a peppy tune.

“Ah, I could look, but it’s just a waste of energy!” Dimentio broke his sarcastic character for a moment, bursting into laughter. “No point in looking, I’m quite sure!”

Peasley came to the horrifying conclusion all at once.

Dimentio knew exactly where he was.

Minutes passed with only the accompaniment of Dimentio’s playful humming as he fiddled with the bells on his jester’s hat, almost as if he were waiting for something, bored.

Eventually, after several long minutes of painful silence and waiting, Dimentio finally moved, floating back toward the door. With a snap of his fingers, he teleported out of the room.

Peasley blinked, almost in disbelief, as he tried to steady his breathing. He waited for another minute before scooting out of his hiding place, careful as to not hit his head. He stood up, brushing himself off before he reached down and picked up his sword and the letter meant for Luigi.

He read over it one last time before he set it down on the bed atop Luigi’s pillow, holding back tears.

Turning on his heel, he threw open the door to the bedroom, intent on dashing back to the main entrance.

He wasn’t expecting to run directly into Dimentio’s chest upon exiting.

Peasley scrambled backward after he made contact with Dimentio, the jester forcing Peasley back as he loomed over him, his signature grin plastered on his face.

“S-Stay back! I’ll… I’ll kill you if you get one step closer to me!”

Dimentio didn’t listen, still moving toward Peasley.

Peasley inhaled, glancing down at his ever-trusted sword in his hand before he glanced back up, glaring at Dimentio. 

He lunged forward, plunging the sword directly into Dimentio’s abdomen. Dimentio glanced down at the sword stabbed through his chest, his smile turning to a frown.

Instead of bleeding out and dying, however, Dimentio simply disappeared from sight, leaving nothing behind.

Peasley dropped his sword by his side with a clang in disbelief, lifting a hand to his face.

He approached the spot that Dimentio had once stood, glancing around to see if there were any remains to speak of.

But there was nothing.

Dimentio was gone.

“W-What…”

Peasley yelped as he suddenly felt two cold hands press down on his shoulders. He froze in terror as he heard an eager laugh sound from behind him.

“Look at you, trying to play the hero again. Your attempts are almost as sad as your appearance.” Dimentio’s familiar voice spoke happily. “It was a fun game though. It’s always nice to play with my little mouse before I pounce upon it…”

“H-How...?”

“Oh, did you not know that I can make duplicates of myself? They’re virtually worthless, but they make for a spectacular illusion!” Dimentio chuckled darkly. “Nice try, princey, but I found you…”

Everything went black in Peasley’s vision, Dimentio’s laughter ringing in his ears.

                                              - - - - - - - - - -

“Peasley! I’m home!”

Luigi entered the main entrance of the manor confidently, striding into the open space with a smile on his face. He shut the doors behind him.

“You were right! That was actually really good for me… I can’t believe how much-”

Luigi froze.

Porcelain and glass lined the floor at his feet, roses littered across the ground in messily strewn displays. The doors to the main corridor were shoved open, ominously swaying on their hinges. Black splotches stained the carpet beneath him.

“P-Peasley?”

Polterpup hadn’t even rushed up to greet him yet, which was almost always guaranteed whenever he returned home from something.

“Polterpup? Doggy…?” 

Luigi felt lost. He was alone.

“Is… Is anyone here? H-Hello…?”

He didn’t want to think it, but he knew what had happened. He didn’t want to accept it.

His worst fears couldn’t have come true.

They couldn’t...

They couldn’t be gone.

[hm-best]

The Letter // Hana to Jun

Years had passed and Hana, though still finding herself in her late 20s and near 30s, felt different at her core than the woman she was at twenty five. She often thought about her conversation with Jeremy a few years ago, the one where she sat across from him and heard him talk about his relationship with her brother. The loneliness that he lost from finding someone who made him grow made her contemplate the state of her own comfortable, quiet life she had accepted as her end. Her face had flustered with the warmth of realization, with the temperate lone tear drop that had slid down her cheek, and she thought: I am already lonely. 

It was a month later that she had asked Parker, after thirty days of deliberating, to move in with him. He had picked her up with Suki, Jae, and even Vincent who despite his original disinterest showed up to help Hana commit to collecting her things and leaving her boyfriend. The man had stood in the kitchen they’d shared for six years, furious and full of adrenaline. Standing with his hands on his head, watching Hana incapable of looking him in the eye. She remembers being angry that Parker showed up with everyone, made it a family affair, but she understood why he did it. Even she knew that right down to the last second there was always half a chance she would stay, and she almost did, watching the man she had stayed with for years look at her with fire in his eyes but knowing better (what with four people ready to pounce on him) that this was a fight he was going to lose. Hana, in a rush to end the overwhelming situation, feeling her chest start to grow heavy and her breath cutting short, only took one record with her. It was a recent one, one of the first ones Jun had ever bought for her. 

She had stayed with Parker and Jeremy for a few months before getting a small studio apartment where she lived for seven months following that. Her and Suki had gone on a few trips and sometimes Jae even came along, and she was spending so much of her time writing. For someone who spoke very little about her inner feelings, being able to put things on paper allowed her to express herself in a way she hadn’t previously considered. She had even gone to therapy, therapy! While it was a lot, it really helped her, though she stopped a year after (and is considering going back, as she finds low points will always come, and mental health care is a life long commitment). Regardless, she’d spent the last five months in Japan doing freelance copy writing for menus and websites for some of Jer and Emiko’s work. Yes, she was in Japan this whole time. Suki had visited her a few weeks earlier and asked Hana a question she wasn’t quite ready to consider. 

“Have you heard from Jun? You know he lives here, right?”

Hana pondered, her eyes fluttering down at the restaurant food before them as Suki obnoxiously dug into her bowl. “Have not, no.”

“Suspicious.”

“How is that?”

“I mean, you’ve been single for years Hana, aren’t you like ready to catch a dick already? Might as well be with someone who wanted you to put out so bad he sent you secret packages.”

“He didn’t want me to put out.” was all Hana got from Suki’s chattering, her voice was straight but soft as always.

“He’s a man, that’s all they ever want.” Suki rolled her eyes, lounging back on her chair with her legs crossed, pulling off her hot pink sunglasses and laying them on the table. “Fine then, you don’t even want to be his friend? I mean, I don’t blame you, it’s just curious.” she shrugged.

“Do you want to be Haruki’s friend?”

“That’s complicated.”

“Isn’t everything?”

Suki pursed her lips. Her sister was her best friend, despite their troubles and drama and past, despite all their differences and even despite the way Suki had treated her on occasions. Hana never made her feel bad about her lifestyle or choices, and Suki owed her that much. “So you want me to drop it?” Suki suggested, pulling her glass of wine to her lips. She was proud of how far Hana had come in her own self discovery and independence, even through the bad points. She herself was content with a life of being her own lover, she could respect that for Hana too.

Hana shrugged, and spoke before finally bringing the fork to her mouth to eat, “You have more things to say, I know you’ll say them regardless of what I ask from you.” 

Suki laughed, “Fuck you.” She looked around at the city she was visiting and had come to know well and love, “I’ll drop it.” she said matter of fact, a quick pause between the two of them before, “But like, what’s going through your head? You think about him?” 

“Sometimes.” Hana smirked at Suki’s outburst. 

“Okay. That’s all I wanted to know.” Suki looked smug, but continued eating.

Weeks. Two weeks she thought about it non stop. She missed Jun’s friendship. She missed the conversations they would have about art and literature and the world, discussions and debates, he seemed so interested in her mind in a way few people were. It felt good. It felt good to have someone interested in your mind. Hana did feel a bit guilty, living in Japan for months and not having reached out. She took out a piece of paper and drafted a letter four times. Sending it off in a cream colored envelope with his old address hand written on it and a vintage floral stamp, not sure if he still lived there and not sure if she wanted him to. This is what she settled on:

Jun Sakurai, 

Hello, this is Hana Seung from London. It’s been quite a period of time since any exchanging of parcels between us, though I accept that as my doing and hope you don’t remain angry toward me for it still. A lot has happened in the past few years, a lot of scary things but mostly good ones. I am no longer living in London. That is to say, I am no longer seeing the person who was keeping me there, and have not been for a few years now. I got a new job as well, and have been a few different places, but I’ll be honest and say I haven’t enjoyed every trip and I’m still adjusting years later to living on my own. Sometimes, and I stress that this occurs only on occasion, I still freak out when the fire alarm battery needs to be replaced, and all I can hear is the relentless and infinite beeping in the back of my head growing louder. I have had plenty of bad nights. I really do hope you have had less. 

Anyway, I think I’m really happy now, but I don’t know how anyone can ever be so sure of that. This whole letter is really not making any sense is it? Can you believe I consider myself a writer now? Please, this is not my best work, do not judge me on behalf of it. 

I thought I would include more details in this letter but I truly don’t know what to say and have settled on aimless ranting about things that probably don’t make much sense to you. Mind you, my first draft of this was “Hello Jun, hope you’re doing well, I’m in Japan. Have a nice day!” Somehow, I think it may actually have been the right way to send instead of this one!

I was rereading this novel you sent me a while back, the one with the bluebird on the cover, do you remember? I had a question I don’t believe I ever asked you about the protagonist in the seventeenth chapter, where he sees the villain for the last time, the one where he decides not to kill the villain. I have thought a lot about this, and I extend it to you, why? If so many stories are centered around the demise of what appears to be evil, why does the good guy decide the bad guy is worthy of life? Does he believe that, despite the mistakes the villain has made in their life, he is still capable of change? The villain spent his entirety alone in his lair, stuck only with his own thoughts, so angry about things he could not change that he would not open himself to anything different. Is it in the end loneliness that causes us to misbehave...and also, awaken? Maybe, I’ve been thinking, is the power of loneliness greater than the power of fear? Or is it the fear of loneliness, the fear of anything, that drives people out of their slumber? Anyway, I was really interested in your take on the matter. I have been thinking a lot about it.

Anyway, again, long story short I suppose: I have been in Japan for a short while. I’m not sure if you still live here, but I thought it would be nice to hear from you and see if you’re doing well, should you remember be given the time we shared as friends was not long. I would be interested in meeting for a cup of tea and catching up or something. You can tell me all about the wonderful things you’ve done these past few years, I’m sure. I have something as well I’m interested in getting your opinion on, but it’s not crucial. I hope this letter finds you well, and that you are healthy and content. 

Hana

(PS: Suki is no longer in town. Thought you would be happy to hear.) 

[funkymeihem-fiction]

Special Delivery- Chapter 4

“Sooooo, can we? It’s all working out just how I planned! This is heaps good!”

“Absolutely not.”

“Darl, you’re killin’ me here! Just give it a chance!”

“I am not going to give it any sort of chance.”

“Fockin’ hell, woman! All you gotta do is sit there for a while, while I do all the hard stuff. You get some sort of sick delight in makin’ things more difficult than they gotta be?!”

Mei narrowed her eyes at him behind her glasses. “You are actually asking for my permission to keep me captive? And you expect me to give it to you?”

“Well when you put it like that, of course it’s gonna sound a bit off,” Rat grumbled, bony shoulders hunching as he folded his arms in his most petulant manner. “So let me put it in a much better way for you. You’ve got blokes what are still looking for you, the kind who want to kill me and Hog and take you to the Big Boss who wanted you in the first place. Now, neither of us want that to happen, do we? Of course we don’t! So why don’t you just sit tight here at Junkrat’s Bed and Breakfast for just a while longer, and once the air’s cleared a bit and there aren’t so many eyes trying to find you, we’ll sneak you out somewhere safer. We’ll get you to a city, and you show up as pretty as you are right now, and then you go on your merry whilst yours truly collects the reward! Easy peasy!”

“There is nothing easy or peasy about that!” Mei shot back, pointing to the chain still shackled to her leg. “And what were you talking about before? What other junkers? What’s a Big Boss?”

He scratched at his sparsely-haired head, and she tried not to wince when his locks actually crunched under his fingertips. They must have been so filthy with soot and dirty that they stood almost straight out. With a shrug, he leaned back on both arms and regarded her curiously. “You mean you really dunno? You can’t remember anything?”

She hugged herself again. “No. I remember being on a side street in Sydney and realizing someone was following me. I don’t know how many there were, because I turned around to face them, but there was another one, and then I must have blacked out. I think they drugged me? And then I wake up here with a chain around my leg and…I thought you…”

Junkrat sucked on a tooth, giving her a look that resembled pity, or at least the most pity that was to be had from a junker. “Well no wonder you’ve been nattering nonsense, then! Poor little pookie, had no idea what was going on. Lookit, sometimes the higher-ups in Junkertown get a taste for something fancy. So they’ll send out some boys to hit the cities for whatever they want. Sounds to me like the Big Boss decided he wanted himself a certain type of lady. And I know the bloke you were meant for, darl. Not someone who would’ve done you any good, none at all!”

“You mean they would have-”

“Uh huh.”

She averted her gaze, pulling her blanket tighter around herself. “How did you find me?”

“Let’s just call that a ‘happy accident’, yeah? I just happened to intercept the caravan what was carrying their special delivery. Didn’t know the delivery was you, of course. Was ransacking the lorries and found you tied up in the trunk. Completely in the nuddy, crammed in there like a wrapped up parcel. Might have seen a bit of red when I realized what was going on. So me and Hog took care of them all, right then and there. Like I said, killed them all to the last man.” His strange eyes swerved back to her expectantly, clearly wanting praise again.

Mei thinned her lips, unsure whether to be happy with that news or not. Generally she abhorred killing of any sort. But it was hard to get  upset over the deaths of men who would do such heinous things. She just nodded meekly and let him talk. He seemed to like talking.

“Knew the Big Boss would be out scouring every corner of the Outback, looking for you and looking for the ones what killed his boys and took everything from him. Left him a false trail, and then Hog and I went roundabout and took you to my home sweet home. Tried to get you some pants, honest I did. But--” he gestured to his exceedingly scrawny waist, wrapping both hands around it so his fingers touched— “nothing doing, measurements wise. Work in progress, no worries. I’ll get you something comfy.”

“And you’re sure the chain was really necessary?”

“I should bloody well say so, since the first thing you did when you slipped it was to run off and near kill yourself. After all the trouble I went through? Too dangerous for you to go scampering about. Maybe if you behave, we can talk about your Casa de Junkrat privileges. But until then, you can only go on walkies when I’m with you. Can’t let the other junkers spy you out.”

She gave him a dirty look, but took a deep breath and remained calm. This new information changed things. “Listen, Junkrat. I believe you when you say you rescued me from those men. I’m thankful. I really am. But if you can just get me a communication signal, I can contact my, um…associates? If I can’t, you’re going to have a lot more complicated things to deal with than just other junkers.”

“Oi, that a threat? Really?”

“No! I’m not trying to threaten you. I’m just saying, I have friends who might get the wrong impression if they’re able to track me down and find me chained to a wall in whatever this place is. And I don’t want you to get hurt if things go bad.”

His eyes went gooey again, leaning towards her. “Ya do care!”

“I don’t want you or anyone to get hurt, is what I meant!” she clarified quickly, setting her jaw and scooting away. “This is all just a big misunderstanding. So, if you just let me call them, I can just have them pick me up.”

“Now now now, what about the money? They’re not the ones offering the reward for your return, are they?”

“Money? I’m not sure they can… I mean, I can ask them when I call--”

“AH HA!” He pointed at her suddenly with a screaming laugh, his filthy finger almost in her face and making her reel back so hard that she nearly fell over. “Trying to give ol’ Junkrat the slip, are we? Well I’m onto you. ‘Not sure’ if they got the money or not. And if they don’t, they’re gonna come here and rescue you and blow my cover. And then I’m left with no reward and a Big Boss and his Boys after my hide! Hard pass, darl. Hard pass.”

“Junkrat, you can’t just--”

“Nope! Sorry, love, but seeing as I’m the brains of our special little trio here, we’re going to do things my way. Don’t fret your beautiful little head, Mei. You’ll still be getting out, and I’ll still be getting a fat stack of credits for your safe return. I mean, that is, unless you decide you want to stay here.” He leaned towards her and clasped his hands together, metal digits clicking on his mechanical one. “We can skip the whole thing, if you want. If you wanna stay.”

There was that wounded and lovesick puppy expression on his face again, but she turned him away as primly as she had before. “Listen, Mr. Rat-”

“Heh! Hehehehe! Mr. Rat! I like that! You’re funny, Mei. I like ‘em funny. Junkrat’s just my esteemed moniker. Real name’s Jamison Fawkes, the Third, Esquire, Junior, and some other things I forgot. You like it?” He crammed himself closer to her again.

Savior or not, she was getting very close to physically shoving him about now. Trying to rein in her temper, Mei took a deep breath and held up a hand to keep him at bay. “Okay. Mr. Fawkes. If you would please stop interrupting me every other — ”

"Word? See! We’re finishing each other’s sentences already!”

“Mr. Fawk— ”

“You can call me Jamison! Or Jamie. Or Mr. Fawkes. Or Junkrat. Or Mr. Rat. Or you can make up any ol’ pet name for me that you like.” 

“Mr.—”

“How about Pooky Bear?”

Mei just put her face in her hands and gave up, sighing through her fingers.

She couldn’t tell someone like him about Overwatch. Winston had offered her a place among them, but Overwatch as an entity had been made illegal and the world had changed so much in nine years that it felt like she was starting all over again. She’d taken it upon herself to head back out into a world that had left her behind, trying to catch up on everything she had missed. The environment summit in Sydney was supposed to be the start of her getting her career back on track. And like everything else in her life, it had gone completely off the rails.

At least one of theme seemed excited about this whole mess. Junkrat picked up her dirty meal tray, scraping a stray piece of egg away with his fingers and sucking them clean. It looked like he also sucked a healthy amount of dirt off the tips of them, and they came away slightly less gray than before. Mei wrinkled her nose at him, and he grinned back at her.

“Now I can understand that you got concerns, but it won’t be all bad. You can watch the telly whenever you like, I’ll get you some of Hog’s books, get you something proper to wear, and whatever else you want. Think of it as an impromptu vacation?” His long spine creaked as he leapt up off the ground, tossing the dirty tray into the dry basin of his makeshift sink. “Or a junker style sleepover! S’gonna get dark soon. You know, you’re lucky you’re not in with Roadhog. The sounds he makes when he snores, you’d think he was dyin’. You don’t snore, do you?”

“No. I don’t snore.” Mei glumly propped her chin atop her knees. She couldn’t be too terse with a man who, though annoying, seemed to have at least decent intentions towards her. She would still need to press the issue about getting a call out to her friends, but maybe one night would satisfy Junkrat’s savior complex and she could talk some sense into him later.

Maybe.

***

He’d talked her into it! The poor little not-doctor had just been confused this whole time, that was all. She’d been afraid that he was one of the blokes out to do her harm. But now she finally understood that he was the furthest thing from it, and a proper gent. Probably was still a bit shellshocked from it all, but he’d convinced her to see things his way for now. Still needed to keep an eye on her while she settled in, of course. She probably still thought she might get a signal out to someone, and unwittingly bring ruin upon them both. But he could talk some sense into her later.

Junkrat was sure of it.

What poor Mei needed now was to relax and de-stress. Frankly, he could use a de-stresser himself. It had been a hell of a day for them both. At least his balls had stopped aching, although his throat was going to be in a state for a while yet. But she’d just been scared and hadn’t meant it, so he could forgive her, of course.

He thought that maybe offering her a massage was the ticket, because nothing was more soothing than being all rubbed up on by someone who didn’t want to kill you. But for reasons he didn’t entirely understand, she still looked a little upset. At least she still wasn’t cringing away from him like before, but even though she was safe and she was fed and had a place to rest, she looked unhappy. Maybe it was just some sort of fancy lady problems that men like him would never understand. He would just have to try harder.

“Junkrat?” she said.

His heart had grown little wings which fluttered every time she said his name. Even when she called him ‘Mr. Rat’, which was still hilarious, he still loved any way she addressed him. Anything that fell out of those soft little pink lips could be nothing less than perfection.

Until she finished with “I’d like to be alone, please. Sorry.”

Scratch that. That was less than perfection, right there. He felt his heart sink, but quickly reminded himself that of course she was still all mixed up and scared. Fancy ladies were delicate things, after all, and she needed time to acclimate. Probably best to nix the massage and give her some space. So he brightened and nodded. “Of course, of course! Sure you got a lot on your mind, heh. Promise you, it’ll all look brighter in the morning. Gotta go talk shop with Hog anyway, but I’ll be back soon. Uh…You need anything?”

“No, thank you. I just…I just need to think. Sorry.”

Frowning, he rubbed awkwardly at one arm and suddenly wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. He eventually settled on shoving them into his torn pockets and nodding as he slouched on out the door. “Arright, arright. Guess it’s not much good for thinking if I’m yammering away. I’ll be back soon, though. So you just…think? Uh…Yeah.”

There was no answer and she wasn’t looking at him, and he couldn’t help feeling disheartened as he shut the door and locked her in.

Traipsing across the dusty yard, kicking an empty tin can along the way, he made his way to Roadhog’s side of the compound, in the much larger garage and farmhouse that the old bikie called home. Rapping loudly on the door beforehand, he took the liberty to invite himself in as he always did. Roadhog had given up on breaking him of that habit ages ago.

Hog was bereft of his mask, though somehow the dim lighting always seemed the conceal the man’s face anyway. He stood before his cookstove, the blue and red flames throwing odd shadows across features marred with scar tissue and the bristles of a white beard. The smell of something frying was heavy in the air, and Junkrat’s stomach promptly forgot that he had just eaten and growled for more.

“Oi, Roadie.” Rat scraped a chair out from the table, slumping down onto it. Sighing dramatically for attention, he leaned back and propped both peg and boot up onto the table.

“Guess she didn’t manage to kill you, then.” Hog remained on-task, not bothering to look his way.

“Nah, mate! Me and her, we had a real sit down together, talked it out, explained the rules to her. Uh…updates to that whole situation, actually. Did ya know she’s someone important?” Rat said, balancing his chair carefully on two legs just to keep himself busy.

Roadhog just grunted, giving his cookpan a shake.

Rat still jittered with nervous energy, continuing on. “Her name’s Mei, by the by. Mei-Ling Zhou. She’s a doctor, but not the right type of one so it don’t really matter. She’s got really pretty eyes. I know because that’s where I’ve been looking instead of her tits. See, I know how to be a gent. And it turns out she’s worth money, Roadie.”

“How much money?” Hog sprinkled sesame seeds onto the saucy chicken and fried noodles. Grumbling to himself, he pulled a smaller plate from the shelf nearby, slopping some of the cooking onto it before dumping the rest into a large mixing bowl, bringing both to the table and sliding the small portion over to his employer. Then he promptly shoved the younger man’s legs off his table and sent him tumbling onto the floor.

Rat landed with a crashing yelp and a rattle of spare parts and metal limbs. Leaping back upright and brushing himself off in a very offended way, he shot Hog a very brief glare before sitting at the table in the right way. Grabbing up a fork and shoveling noodles into his mouth, he spoke around his food. “Forget, but there was plenty of zeroes in it. There’s a reward for her return, see? I’ve already laid it out for her, and she’s game. We just got to keep her safe and quiet for a bit while the heat’s still on, and then we break for Sydney and come back with stacks of credits, and nobody in town the wiser.”

“All right,” Hog said, opening scarred lips to nibble with more delicate precision at a sliced chicken breast.

“So no splattering her pretty bits out on the sand!” Rat snapped, spraying soy sauce from his mouth in his haste. “She’s a fancy thing, really soft and delicate-like. Ya gotta be real gentle, can’t accidentally kill her or anything.”

“Hmm.”

“You got a lot of experience with fancy ladies, mate?”

“Hmm?”

“What do I gotta do to impress a fancy lady type? You know, to get her to like me?”

“…You?” Hog paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, looking his younger cohort up and down. Then he began laughing so hard that his entire body shoot, immense belly wobbling against the table. “Bwwwwrrahaaa-ha-ha-haaa!”

“Fuck you Hog! Fuck you!” Rat shrilled, hurling his fork and an empty cup at him. They bounced harmlessly off his gut. “You don’t know nothing about nothing! I can figure it out on my own!”

Hog reined in his laughter with a wet snort. “Warned you not to get attached to your new pet. Last time I saw you two, she’d choked you out in the shit heap and busted your balls open.”

“That was just a misunderstanding, an accident. That’s all. She didn’t mean it. She might still give it a go with me! You dunno anything!”

“Calm down, Rat. That’s the first thing you gotta do.”

Junkrat perked up both ears, leaning forward eagerly. Unfortunately, Hog took his time and devoured several more mouthfuls of noodles and chicken before saying anything more. Grumbling, Rat rapped his knuckles on the table. “Okay! Yeah! Calm down, that makes sense. Fancy ladies are easily spooked. Like a horse or one of those faintin’ goats on the videos. S’hilarious. You ever see a goat faint, Hog? Or a—”

“Don’t compare them to horses or goats.”

“Right, right, right! Okay, what else? Give me something good. We aren’t exactly startin’ off on a great foot here to begin with. Uh, she’s not too fond of me chaining her to a wall, and having no pants on, and some of the finer details.”

Roadhog uttered a massive sigh. “Why bother? Just turn her in for the money.”

Looking conflicted, Rat busied himself by shoving the last of his noodle slop into his bottomless stomach before wiping at his stained chin with one arm. “I dunno. I mean, I know we’re gonna put her up for the reward. But s’just…ya know? We got some time until then. And she’s not a junker so…I dunno. Maybe she don’t know who I am yet, so she won’t laugh me off right away? Like maybe there’s still a tiny chance. I’m still at least half a blue-blooded bloke, I still got the parts what matter. Maybe she won’t notice the bad bits? Maybe she… I dunno.”

Hog eyed him a little more carefully, frowning at something he must have said. “Hm. Rat—”

“And have you seen her tits? Fucking amazing. She’s an absolute beaut.”

“Other shoe always drops,” Hog sighed. “First, get her something to wear. Make her comfortable. And try not to overwhelm the girl with…you.”

“Okay, yeah! Pants first. I mean, she’s gotta wear pants before I can get in them, ya know what I’m saaaayin’?” Rat leaned to the side, jabbing his mate in the side with one uncomfortably pointy elbow. “Ya hear?”

Hog just sighed again.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Just reel myself in maybe a little bit. Make sure she’s comfy while she’s here. Make sure those bludgers don’t come and try to get her back. Rip ‘em to shreds if they do, every last one of ‘em.”

“They better not even know she’s here,” Roadhog rumbled dangerously. “Keep her quiet. Can’t fight a whole army.”

“Quiet as a mouse, promise. Pile on those creature comforts until she’s happy here. Oh! Right, uh, you got any broccoli?”

“…Broccoli?”

“She said she won’t eat meat. Fuckin’ weirdest thing I’ve heard all day, but arright. Vegetarian. Vegetarians love broccoli, don’t they?”

“…You’re trying. I’ll get something.”

“Thanks, mate!”

Rat chattered away the hours while Hog mostly ignored him and focused on other things, and interrupted him only to point out that the sun was down and he had a guest to tend to. Scrambling back out the door with a wave and a renewed sense of hope, Junkrat went strutting back to his own side of the yard, sliding his keys into the proper locks in the proper order. He just had to keep his head, that was all. Keep things under control, and impress her, and she’d be begging for kisses and more by the end of the week.

Flinging open the door, he barreled through happily, crowing aloud. “I’m hooome! Mei? Mei! What’re you— OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

[ariela-of-aedyr]

The Gift

Didn’t manage to get this done in time for Christmas, but such is the way I suppose. Ariela has something to give Aloth, and is uncharacteristically nervous about the whole thing. He isn’t entirely sure why.

"I... um, I have something for you."

Ariela's gentle voice cut through his thoughts, requesting his attention in an uncharacteristically timid fashion, and Aloth looked up from his grimoire to find her hovering hesitantly in the doorway to his room. He'd been taking advantage of having some space to himself in the inn- something which had been becoming more and more difficult onboard the Defiant with each new addition to the crew- to add a few helpful notations to his spellbook, but he paused in his task and set the quill aside for now to give his lover his full attention. The grimoire wasn't going anywhere, after all, but he was sure Ariela had better things to do than to spend her night in his doorway.

"Oh?" He queried, unsure as to why she would be so nervous about that. It wasn't as if she had never given him anything before; enchanted equipment she thought he might make use of, the occasional book she thought he might enjoy. She'd once bought him a particularly comfortable and well-made pair of boots back in the Dyrwood, when she'd noticed that his were starting to become rather worn. 

Aye, and dinnae forget all the touchin' and kisses she's bin giving ye lately, too.

He shook Iselmyr's thoughts away with a dismissive roll of the eyes, and directed a patient smile at Ariela. "You are welcome to come in, Ari."

"Right. Yes. Of course." Ariela moved into the room, closing the door behind her, and crossing towards him. She'd changed since they arrived at the inn, he noticed. Gone now was her adventuring gear, replaced instead with a loose-fitting dress in the same shade of green that she always wore, the skirt of which swished back and forth with each awkward step she took.

"Are you... alright, Ariela?" It was so unlike her to seem uncomfortable like this. Hesitance was, most assuredly, his territory, while Ariela had always been so very sure of everything.

"I..." She took a deep breath as she came to a stop beside him, and as she finished exhaling a smile overtook her features, lighting up her face in the most adorable fashion. "Yes. I'm fine. I was feeling a little nervous, but that's not necessary is it?"

"I'm sure that it is not." He began to assure, until he suddenly doubted himself, a frown pulling at his features. "...or, well, perhaps it is. You aren't nervous often, Ariela, if you are now, then I would trust you have a reason to be."

Ariela chuckled at this, and he felt his concern begin to dissipate. Perhaps she really had been worrying over nothing, as unlikely as that might seem. "No, I was just being ridiculous, Darling. Here," She quickly dug around in her bag, producing an elegantly wrapped gift from the worn leather bag that was slung over her shoulder. "For you."

He took the gift from her outstretched hands, eyeing it somewhat suspiciously. She'd never wrapped something that she bought for him before, and why exactly was she behaving so nervously? Glancing up to find her eyes watching him intently, he frowned once more. "Please don't think me ungrateful to receive something from you, but... what exactly is the occasion, Ariela?"

"Oh!" A sheepish look passed over his lover's face, and he caught a slight blush begin to colour her cheeks. "Sorry, perhaps I should have explained first? When I was still with my family in Aedyr, we had a Winter's End tradition. As part of the celebrations, we would exchange gifts; nothing lavish, just little things that we thought each other might like. It's been... a very long time since I took part in those traditions, and they don't even celebrate the same holidays that we do back in the Empire all of the way out here, but... well, when I realised the date, there was something in the back of my mind that told me I should do something this year. I have you and Vela now, and everything's so uncertain what with Eothas stomping through the Deadfire, and..."

She trailed off, and he set the gift down on the desk, reaching out to take her hand. He squeezed gently, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand, and gently tugging her closer. She obliged, bending slightly to brush a kiss against his cheek.

"I..." He wasn't sure exactly how to express to her the sentiment that he wanted to. That he was honored that she had thought of him, that she wanted to include him in the traditions of her family. That he had never exactly had that kind of family before, and was unsure of how to be a part of one, but that he was more than willing to try. For her. "I have never received a gift for Winter's End before. In all honesty, I hadn't even realised that that time of year was already upon us, we've been so busy with everything else."

"There is rather a lot going on right now. And I know I shouldn't really be devoting energy to something so frivolous when there's so much depending on me, but I just couldn't help myself. I don't think the gift-giving thing is a common practice. But I've always thought it was sweet." She nudged him playfully, happiness twinkling in her eyes, and he found himself wondering, not for the first time, how she could possibly be so beautiful. "Are you going to open it?"

He flashed her a smile, before retrieving the gift. As he began to loosen the ribbon tied beautifully around the parcel, he felt Ariela shift her position, moving to cuddle in to him from behind, her head coming to a rest on his shoulder, and he tilted his head to the side to press a quick kiss to her cheek. Satisfied with her happy hum, he turned his attention back to the gift, turning it onto its side to find the edge of the colourful paper that was wrapped around it, and carefully tearing it to get to whatever was inside. Pulling back the paper he found a thick, leather-bound tome, the next volume in the series of magical theory essay collections that he had been working his way through. 

"You mentioned that you were almost done with the one you're reading." Ariela remarked, and he realised that a wide smile had spread across his face.

"I am. How did you manage to find this?"

"Well, it took a few hours of digging through the shelves of The Dark Cupboard, and the help of Eder and Tekehu to keep you distracted." As soon as she said this, the events of a few days before suddenly became much clearer to him, and it made much more sense as to why she hadn't made any protest when their companions had insisted on dragging him to the tavern with them, despite his very obvious objections on the matter. "Sorry about that part; I hope they didn't bother you too much."

"It's quite alright." He assured, running his fingers over the cover of his new book with a smile. "That is, they absolutely did, but I understand now why. Just please don't make a habit of asking them to do so."

Ariela giggled, and the sound was like the most beautiful melody to his ears. "I promise."

"Good." Setting the book back down on the desk, he rose from the chair, wrapping his arms around Ariela before she could move too far from him, pulling her close and pouring all of his love into the embrace. "Thank you, Ariela. Though I'm afraid I didn't get you anything in return."

"That's alright." She murmured, relaxing against his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist and enveloping him in her warmth. "Perhaps you can next year."

They'd both been clear when they began their relationship that they didn't know how it would progress; they weren't certain of what the future held for them, or whether they would remain together for long. They'd avoided any kind of discussion of the future ever since, both content to just enjoy the present, to enjoy being with each other in this moment, but as the words came out of her mouth, his response to her was clear and automatic. 

"Yes, I'm sure I will."

[mrswalkers-blog]

Falling in Love with you

Chapter 2 - Riley’s birthday

Book: The Royal Romance ( Drake x MC)

Summary: Its Riley’s Birthday, and she have some surprises coming up. Drake getting better and soon it will be the day he wakes up.

Warnings: PG. Future Chapters will be tagged accordingly. 

A/N: My first series. Please comment. I can use all feedbacks, positive and negative. 

FaceClaim: Drake Walker - Daniel Di Tomasso 

Riley Walker (Brooks) - Katrina Kaif 

King Liam Rhys - Daniel Henney

Tag list:  @agent-zephyrkah @mymandrake @writtenbycandy @mind-reader1, @alesana45 , @the-excelsior , @walkerisbae , @butindeed , @notoriouscs , @speedyoperarascalparty , @stopforamoment , @andy-loves-corgis , @jenp02cutie-blog , @drakelover78 , @silviasutton1989 , @annekebbphotography ,  @stopforamoment

Please let me know if you want me to remove you or add you to the tag list.

Previous Chapter: Prologue – The Fight, Chapter 1- The Accident

Riley woke up with her phone constantly buzzing. Her notification was filled with birthday wishes from all over Cordonia. There were few best wishes for Drake too. She didn’t feel like replying to any of them. But one message caught her eye.

Liam had stayed the night in the estate. Riley and Drake had redesigned the largest guest room for him. The room mirrored his own room at the palace. Although it was much smaller, it had everything Liam would need. They had converted many of their guest rooms as permanent rooms for their friends, keeping their needs and style in mind. One for Savannah and Bertrand, One for Bartie, One for Maxwell, and of course one room for Hana, who lived with them at their estate. So all of their loved ones always feel welcome at their home.

After taking a shower, Riley was standing in front of her closet, wrapped in nothing but a white towel, looking through her collection of beautiful dresses. She had collected hundreds of them, but she didn’t feel like wearing any of them today. She sighed and closed her closet and opened Drake’s. On the top shelf, his suits were hanged. He didn’t like wearing suits, but still, she had got at least a dozen for him, as his life as a Duke needed him to look his best on many occasions. She brushed her fingers on the suits, trying to feel how she felt when she brushed her fingers on his arms or chest when he was wearing them. Her eyes roamed down to the lower shelf where his white t-shirts and blue denim jackets were stacked. These were his favorite outfit and he had a dozen of the same pair. She pulled out a white t-shirt, bunched in her hands, brought near her nose and took a deep breath, it really smelled like him. Her lips curled in a soft smile. She put it on along with one of her jeans. The jeans still fitted her perfectly. She ran a hand on her belly, there was no visible sign of pregnancy, none yet. 

---

She went down to the dining hall for breakfast. Hana, Savannah, and Bertrand were waiting for her at the table.

‘Hey! That’s the birthday girl.’ Hana instantly stood up to pull Riley in a warm embrace. ‘Happy Birthday, Riley. Everything will be alright. He will be alright. I wish you both, all the happiness in the world.’ She whispered in her ears.

‘Thanks, Hana’ Riley said with a sigh. She turned to Savannah.

‘Happy Birthday’, Savannah gave her a hug squeezing her gently,’ I am so glad that you came into my brother’s life. I can see He is truly happy now. I wish you a long and happy life. ’

Bertrand extended a hand for Riley to shake, but she gently pushed it away and gave him a sisterly hug. ‘Oh!’ Bertrand was startled at first but returned the hug almost immediately. ‘Well, I suppose I could give you a hug on your birthday, but don’t make it a habit.’ Riley chuckled.

‘Happy Birthday Riley’ she heard a familiar voice calling her from behind.

Riley turned around to see Gladys standing with a tray, smiling. ‘Thanks, Gladys. What is this?’

‘This is something that should cheer you up’, she said gently placing the tray in front of her. The tray had a note with a rose placed on it and a plate covered with a silver cloche. She opened the cloche to see her favorite breakfast, chocolate chip pancakes.

She opened the note. It was handwritten. 

Happy Birthday my love,

I know you are mad at me for canceling your plans. And as much as I enjoy making up to my angry wife, I am not there to do so. So just pause your anger for a while and enjoy these chocolate chip pancakes.

Missing you,

Your Busy Husband

Riley looked at Gladys with a question in her eyes.

‘His grace gave me this note last week and asked me to make this breakfast for you.’ She gave her a warm smile.

Riley felt her heart full of love. Drake always showed his love through such small gestures. She smiled as a single tear escaped her eye.

----

They had just finished their breakfast when Gladys returned with a large bouquet and two boxes. ‘Riley, these parcels were just delivered for you.’

Riley took the bouquet and saw a card in it.

You are my weakness and my strength. With you, I am happy as I can ever be. Happy Birthday my love - Your Grumpy Marshmallow

She hurriedly opened the two boxes. The larger one had a red dress. The small box had a pearl necklace. 

‘Wow! these will look so good on you!’ Hana said with wide eyes.

‘Why don't you try them on, Riley.’ Savannah said.

Riley changed into the dress. It was an off-shoulder dress with a slit running down her left leg from her thighs. The dress hugged her body perfectly, beautifully enhancing her curves. She put on the pearl necklace, completing her look. Drake loved red on her. She felt her cheeks turning red, imagining how Drake would have reacted seeing her in this. He wouldn't have said much, but his eyes would have done all the talking.

‘You look lovely!’ Savannah told her as she came out of the changing room. 

‘Did he took your help shopping these?’ Riley asked her.

‘Well, he did ask for my opinion, but I would say that this was his choice.’

‘Riley, I was not supposed to tell you this till the evening, but now, as the circumstances have changed, I need to tell you. Drake had booked a table at Dvor for you two.’

Riley smiled,’ Tell them, we have changed the plans.’ 

-----

Riley reached the hospital with a cake, dressed in the red dress that Drake gifted her. She went to his room and placed the cake on a table.

‘This is a beautiful dress!’ she said and turned around to give him a complete look at her as if Drake was looking at her. ‘Your choice is getting better.’ She smiled. ‘And this necklace! It’s lovely!’ She said brushing her hands on the shining pearls.

‘By the way, I canceled the reservation at Dvor. I thought we should celebrate my birthday here.’ She said opening the cake box. She cut the cake and held it up for Drake. ‘Thanks for making me feel so loved.’ She bit a small piece on the cake. She placed the remaining piece in the box and sat beside Drake, who was still sleeping in his coma.’ I am not going to cry anymore. I know you will get well soon. I know we will be happy again. You, me and the baby.’ she said putting a hand on her stomach,

She wiped off a tear that escaped her eye. ‘I also promise you to tell you how I feel immediately. I am not going to bottle up my feelings till they erupt in an angry volcano.’ She chuckled.

She continued talking to him, holding his hands, for hours. 

---

Liam went back to the Palace after the Investors Meet. Bertrand went to the Beaumont house. Savannah stayed back with Bartie.

Riley made a routine for the next two weeks, going to the office in the morning, replying to potential Investors queries and doing other work with Hana. After lunch, she would go to see Drake. She would just sit there, talking to him, about her day or tell him how much she misses him, or about their future. Savannah joined her in the evening before the visiting hours are over.

After dinner, she would play with Bartie, giving some breather to Savannah. Riley loved taking care of Bartie. They had set up a room dedicated to Bartie for when he visits. It was filled with his favorite toys and a crib. There were a lot of storybooks. Few of them were old, the ones Drake used to read when he was a kid. It was so much fun with Bartie now as he can talk in his baby language. She loved how Bartie’s eyes lit up when she animatedly told him stories. She would put him to bed after reading a story or sometimes singing him to sleep.

As the days went by, she watched Drake getting better. His bandages going small, some wounds healed to just a scar. Colour returning to his face. Dr. Green too told her that Drake was making good progress. She was getting hopeful every day, as every passing day brought her a day closer to the day when they will pull him out of the coma. When he will be again with her.

--- 

Finally, the day came when he was coming out of Coma. Riley texted Liam as soon as the doctor informed her about that. Liam canceled all his meetings for the next three days and took his private jet to Valtoria. 

Riley was so excited, she couldn’t sleep the entire night, thinking about what she would say when he finally wakes up after more than 2 weeks. Sometimes a fear would get her about some permanent damage to him, but she had decided to keep all negative thoughts away. She told herself that everything will be perfect. 

Dr. Green had predicted that the drugs will wear off around 10 AM and he would wake up any time after that. Riley reached the hospital at 9 AM. She wore the red dress and the pearl necklace Drake gifted her on her birthday. 

Savannah wanted to be there, but her baby sister canceled at the last minute. She promised to reach there as soon as she can arrange a babysitter.  Dr. Green had asked Riley to not bring visitors with her as she didn't want Drake to feel crowded. So Hana too stayed back. 

She sat beside Drake, waiting, with his hand in hers, slowly caressing the back of his hand by her thumb. He was looking much better than the day she saw him first after the accident. He was off the ventilator today, but some of the tubes were still there.  

Liam joined her at about an hour later.

‘Hey’, he greeted her as he entered the room.

‘Hi. Good to see you again. I thought you wouldn’t be able to make it.’ Riley looked back to give him a welcoming smile.

‘There are very few people I consider family. And family comes first.’ he smiled warmly.

They waited for about two more hours when they saw Drake stirring awake. Riley called Dr. Green to inform.

‘Please don’t crowd him, he will be slight delusional when he wakes up.’she said gently as she entered the room.

Riley stood up and walked to the end of the bed at his feet. She stood there besides Liam. Dr, Green stood on the other side at the foot of the bed.

Drake slowly opened his eyes and let out a slight groan. His eye roamed around his surroundings for a while, not focusing on anything. Riley felt his gaze brushed past her. After a moment, his gaze fixed on Liam.

‘Liam!’, He gave a pained smile. ‘What happened?’

‘Drake! It is okay. You are in the hospital. You were in a car accident. ‘ Liam said slowly.

‘Oh!’ Drake said trying to sit up. ‘Please your Grace, do not try to sit up at this moment. We have kept you asleep for a while. You will need some time before you can sit.’ Dr. Green said

Drake looked at the doctor confused, but he obeyed.

‘Hey! How are you feeling?’ Riley asked  She noticed that Drake was not looking at her. She felt her heart beating fast. Is he mad at me? Does he blame me for the accident?

‘Feels like the worst hangover!’ his brows pinched. He looked at her. But there was no familiarity in his gaze. It was a cold look he was giving her. 

Riley looked at Dr. Green, ‘Don’t worry, I will give him something for that.’ Dr. went to get a medicine.

‘How did it happen? The accident?’ Drake asked Liam

‘Oh! You don’t remember? We too don’t have many details, but we found your car smashed against a tree. You had slid down the road.’ Liam said.

‘My car?’ 

‘Yes. But it doesn’t matter. What matter is that you are alright.’ Liam said wrapping his hand around Riley’s shoulders.

'Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, Liam?’ Drake asked looking at Riley.

Riley looked at Drake and then at Liam with shock and confusion. Liam was as confused as she was. Dr. Green returned with the medicine. She overheard their conversation. 

‘Your Grace!’ the doctor called but got no response from Drake.

‘Ummm… Sir Drake! ‘ She called again, Drake turned towards the doctor as he heard his name.

'Do you not recognize Duchess Riley?’ the doctor asked

'No, I do not recall meeting her before.’ Drake said shaking his head.

‘Drake! Why would you say something like that? Is it because of what I said? Are you mad at me? I didn’t mean anything I said. I am sorry…’ Riley tried hard not to let emotions get better of her. 

'I have never seen you before. I know all the Duchess of Cordonia, you are not one of them.’ Drake said.

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Pixelberry.

[theliterateape]

On Wanting More

By Kari Castor

Minimalism has never been for me.

I can see the appeal, I guess, from an academic standpoint. I can understand why simplifying — focusing on a few key things, paring your possessions and your life down to what you really need — is something many people find valuable and praiseworthy.

But I am no minimalist. I have never been good at less — my soul (whatever a soul may be, metaphysical or not) has always reached out for more.

I collect things, often to my husband’s dismay. He wouldn’t mind a little less clutter in our home. I do try to clean things out every so often — find the things I can let go of and let go of them. (If possible, I rehome them with friends or I send them to Goodwill, because it feels like such a tragedy to throw a perfectly good thing in the trash.) I have brief fantasies about doing a massive decluttering sweep, trying to be more minimalist. Would that make me more virtuous? I know humans are filling up the ocean with trash. I know consumer goods aren’t the key to happiness. I know I don’t actually need that sexy Jeff Goldblum with his shirt open Funko Pop. But I want it.

I looked up the KonMari Method back when it seemed like everyone was talking about it. What I found was advice about gathering up your belongings and identifying the things that “spark joy,” because those are the things you should keep. But what if I gather them up and find that they all spark joy? Where do I draw the line? How do I know how much joy something has to spark in order for it to be worth keeping? Is it the amount of joy sparked by a sexy Jeff Goldblum Funko Pop? Or the amount sparked by a dancing Mechagodzilla toy a friend bought for me? Or the amount sparked by a tiny plastic terrarium with Eeyore in it that my little sister made for me when she was about 5 years old?

What if something sparks both joy and pain?

What do I do with the plush pink space jellyfish, sewn for me by my former friend — both a reminder of a friendship and a favorite video game, and a reminder of a person I feel profoundly betrayed by now? Or the enamel pin my boyfriend bought me while he was out of town for a weekend with that former friend/his other girlfriend — a gift that is meaningful because the unspoken message is that he took time to think of me, but a thing that I can’t quite look at without being reminded of who he was with when he bought it.

Perhaps I should do away with those reminders of this particular pain, but again, where do you draw the line? How much pain does it take to negate the joy or meaning that something holds? The collar of our sweet dog Gypsy, draped over the box that holds her ashes, is also a bittersweet reminder of love and grief — I’m not sure that it “sparks joy” per se, but I’m not about to throw it in the trash.

In all fairness, maybe Marie Kondo covers these nuances in her book. I don’t know. I’ve never read it and I'm never going to. I'm glad many people find value in it, but "the life-changing magic of tidying up" just isn't my aesthetic.

And honestly, the clutter is just the physical manifestation of this more doctrine. I am, I admit, an ardent consumer of goods, but I want more than just Funko Pops and enamel pins. I want to love more, to live more, to eat more, to drink more, to read more, to write more, to travel more, to fuck more, to be more...

Call me greedy. Call me a hedonist. You’re not wrong. I am who I am, and I’m not ashamed of it. I’ll never be an ascetic. I’m hella attached to worldly pleasures, and to the world. I suppose I’m probably lucky that I’m not inclined to addiction — but there are too many things I want more of to focus all of my energies on just one substance or one sensation.

I want to love more people, and I want to have more of the people I love. I don’t want to be their exclusive everything, but I want to share in their everything.

I have often said that finding polyamory was like fitting the last missing puzzle piece of my identity into place. I love my husband. I don’t want to live my life without him. But forcing myself to fit into monogamy was like cutting off one of my limbs and then pretending there was nothing missing. And so I’ve chosen the far more cluttered and complicated path of polyamory. It is certainly more.

It’s more love, more support, more chosen family. But what’s the adage about grief being the price of love? It’s more of that, too. It’s more vulnerability. It’s more work. (Oh god, it’s so much work sometimes.) It’s more insecurity and more jealousy than I ever knew I was capable of feeling. It’s more difficult conversations. And some of that is just what poly is, and some of it is because of the specific set of relationships that exist within my little microcosm of poly.

One of the relationships I have is with a person with whom I cannot share his everything. I can only share in parts, because of the other people he has chosen to share his life with and because of the way I have been hurt by those people and those other relationships.

My life would be a great deal easier, and would probably (eventually, though certainly not right away) have less pain in it if I ended things with him. I could choose to share none of his life instead of some parts of it. I very likely might find someone else, someday, with whom I could share their entire life. Of course, I still might do that, even if I stay. In theory, my ability to love more people is infinite. In reality, my time and my emotional bandwidth are very finite.

But this man still sparks so much joy for me, too. How much hardship does it take to negate the value of a relationship and the work you’re both still putting into it? Is love worth only so much grief, and no more?

I am no more a psychological minimalist than I am a material one. I don’t want to wipe my life clean of this difficulty at the expense of this person I love.

I know who I am. I am a creature of desires. I want more. I will always want more of the people and things that I love. I’ve spent years making peace with my own wanting, paradoxical though that seems. Ever reaching for more is part and parcel of my being. Sometimes it's messy and difficult and heartbreaking. But I don’t actually want to want less.

[another-tmnt-writer]

The One in Blue

Leonardo x Reader

The One in Blue

Note: The Leonardo installment of the Prince!AU. I’ve been toying around with this idea for quite a while.

Warnings: None??

Word Count: 1535

The Kingdom of the Wild was one shrouded in mystery. People knew that the castle housed the King and his four sons, but they hardly left the castle. They were almost never seen beyond its tall walls, and even then, no one had ever seen them. Only heard the few stories that escaped the palace’s tall walls.

But everything would soon change.

Being the youngest daughter of the Kingdom of the Moon, and the only one of your sisters not already engaged, it wasn’t surprising to you when the ball invitations started to arrive. You were a hot ticket among the eligible princes and kings-to-be, apparently.

Finally, the invitation for the only ball you had any real interest in attending had arrived.

“Your Grace, a letter.” Your handmaiden, a beautiful young woman named Ascella, delivered it one morning, just after you had gotten dressed.

“And just where is this letter from?”

“The Kingdom of the Wild, my lady.”

“Thank you, Ascella.” She handed you the letter. You carefully peeled back the wax seal and opened the envelope, revealing the fine paper within.

“Princess (Y/N) of the Kingdom of the Moon,

I hope this letter reaches you in good health. You are hereby invited to a masquerade ball to be held in the Castle of the Wild on the twelfth night of the month.

Prince Leonardo wishes you the best and hopes to see you in attendance, as your actions in the Kingdom of the Moon have made quite an impression on him. He has sent also a dress for the event that he hopes is to your liking.”

The note was stamped with the seal of the Kingdom of the Wild.

“He sent a dress?” You asked.

“Yes. He did. Would you like me to have it brought up?”

“Yes, please.” You couldn’t help but be a bit interested in this. Out of all of the invitations you had received, none of them had come with gifts. A few minutes later, the gown was brought up to your chambers. It was long blue ball gown with satin puffs at the tops of the sleeves and fine lace along the edge of the skirt. The color of the dress was unlike anything you had ever seen. It was vibrant and deep and absolutely regal. It had come with a detailed masquerade mask made of the same fabric of the skirt and lined in lace. And as you were admiring the craft of the thing, you happened upon a piece of paper hidden inside. Another note.

“Princess,

I apologize for the last note you received. I had wished to send something more personal to you, but my advisors thought against it for fear I might disclose private matters. However, I did wish to write something to you myself, so I did.

I hope you will attend the ball, as I’ve been anxious to meet you for quite some time now. Please come with an open mind. As to why, I’m not at liberty to say, but I hope you’ll not judge us too harshly.

If you come, I’ll be the one wearing blue.

-Prince Leonardo”

You read the note over a few more times, studying his penmanship and the mystery behind his careful words.

Nonetheless, you picked up a roll of paper and dipped a quill in ink and wrote your reply.

***

“A raven arrived this morning from the Kingdom of the Moon.” Lady April walked into the grand hall, directly to the eldest prince and offered the tiny scroll addressed to him. “A reply from the princess perhaps?”

“One can only hope.” Leonardo held out a large green hand and took the tiny scroll carefully, being gentle to unroll it so he could read it. A smile spread across his face as he read the words you had written. 

“Prince Leonardo,

I write you to tell you I will be in attendance at your ball. Thank you for the beautiful gown you sent. I assure you, I shall put it to good use. I look forward to making your acquaintance in person and promise to come with an open mind and an open heart.

I, too, shall be the one wearing blue.

-Princess (Y/N)”

“Is she coming?”

“She is.” Leonardo rolled up the parcel of paper and tucked it away, a warm feeling flooding his chest. She was going to meet him, and by the sound of it, she was exactly the type of future queen he was looking for.

“Your grace, I was hoping for some opinions on arrangements for tomorrow evening.”

“Yes, yes of course…”

Leonardo stood up and followed Lady April, and despite the many activities, all he could think of or focus on the rest of the day was you.

***

You arrived at the ball by carriage wearing the gorgeous gown Leonardo had sent for you. The mask was tied around your face, and your hands were covered in fine white gloves. You collected the skirt in your hands and took careful steps out of the carriage, assisted by your footman. Then, you followed the stream of nobles up the carpeted stairs into the castle.

Inside, the ballroom was filled with guests dancing. Some were chatting idly, and above it all, four princes sat on four thrones with the king in the center. The one at the right hand of the king was indeed dressed in blue, the same shade you were wearing, and when he spotted you in the crowd, you could have sworn you saw him wink at you.

It was in that moment that you had to do a double take.

The princes were not ordinary in any meaning of the word. Their skin was green and scaly, and as you got further into the ballroom, you could make out three fingers on each hand. They were each propped up in their seats as though there was something resting against their backs. And yet, his blue eyes pierced you, as human as the crowd assembled to finally look at the elusive rulers of the Wild Kingdom.

And though he was different, that was certain, you stood there unafraid, eyes locked on his, watching as a slow smile crept across his face. You couldn’t help but smile back and do a small curtsy. He leaned over to his father, told him something, and then stood up from his throne, swiftly, but gracefully making his way through the crowd that stood between you.

He was tall, handsome, dressed in a blue suit that matched yours, and around his eyes was a blue mask.

“Nice to finally meet you, princess.”

“Likewise.” You held out your hand and he took it in his, bowing down to press a sweet kiss to the back of it. “You’re…taller than I expected.”

“That’s one way to put it, I suppose.” He chuckled. “Might I have this dance?”

“Of course.” You slipped your hand into his and the two of you walked out into the center of the room. The orchestra picked up at the sight of their prince finally entering the waltz with the rest of the guests. The two of you practically glided across the floor, moving together with grace. Leonardo couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of you, and the look on your face filled his chest with warmth.

You danced for what seemed like hours until Leonardo leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

“How about we get some fresh air?”

“I’d like that very much.” You nodded. 

He offered his arm, and you wrapped an arm around it, letting him escort you out of the ballroom to the gardens. It was a gorgeous place filled with colorful flowers and fireflies. A large fountain sat in the center of the yard surrounded by paths that led through the hedges.

“Leonardo, thank you for the dress and the amazing evening.”

“Thank you for coming with an open mind, princess.”

“Promised I would.” You looked up at him. The way the moonlight danced across his features set your heart ablaze.

“I just want you to know…this,” he motioned to himself and held one of his large green hands out in front of him, “this doesn’t go away at midnight. It’s not a curse or a spell…it’s who I am.”

It was silent. You didn’t know what to say, so instead, you reached up and brushed his cheek with your hand, bringing his face down to look at you.

“I know.” Your voice was quiet but sincere, and the soft smile on your face sent Leonardo’s doubts flying. “I’ve been to thirty balls this month and this is the only one I actually enjoyed.”

“So that means…”

“Leonardo, I like you. A lot. Of all of my suitors, you’re by far my favorite.”

“(Y/N), I think you’ll make a fine queen one day.” Leonardo’s voice was gentle. One of his fingers brushed the hair out of your face.

“And I would gladly call you my king.”

In a bold move empowered by the warmth buzzing in his chest, Leonardo leaned forward and captured your lips in a loving kiss.

[jenhedgehog]

A New Addition To The Family - A Lapidot Fanfic

Chapter Two: A Bed Fit For A Queen

A week had passed since Lapis and Peridot delivered their big news to the Crystal Gems, and Steven just couldn’t stop thinking about it.  It’s no surprise, then, that the conversation quickly turned to the two barn mates when Steven paid his father a visit.

 Greg still couldn’t quite believe it.  As he sat listening to his son excitedly talking about “a Gemling”, a thought occurred to Greg.

 “Is there anything we can do to help them both?” he pondered aloud.

 “I think Peridot has it all under control, Dad” Steven replied.

 “No, but...” Greg continued, “Do they need us to buy anything for them?  I can’t imagine Peridot walking into a store with a handful of dollars!  What about a bed for the baby?  Or even a new bed for the happy couple themselves?”

 “Hmmm.... Peridot doesn’t sleep, I think... and Lapis has the hammock, so –”

 “Lapis is sleeping in a hammock?!” Greg interrupted, completely horrified by this.

 “Huh?” Steven looked questioningly at his Dad.

 “We can’t let a pregnant woman sleep in a hammock! It’s too dangerous, kiddo” Greg explained, a worried frown now sitting on his forehead.  After a brief moment of thinking to himself, Greg got to his feet, an idea planted firmly in his mind.

 “C’mon, Shtoo-ball,” he said with a smile, “Let’s go and buy a bed!”

 ---

 Lapis’ snores rang out loudly through the barn as she lay fast asleep in her hammock.  Somehow, much to Peridot’s amazement, Pumpkin was able to sleep through all this din – the little veggie was also in the hammock, snuggled up to her Mom as the pair of them slept soundly.

 “I swear the tractor makes less noise than that...” Peridot quietly mumbled to herself as she lifted another box of assorted items, “It’s a good job I love you, Laz.”

 She glanced over at her sleeping partner with a loving smile, and quietly carried the box outside.  Once she was out, she began to tape the box closed and scribbled an address onto its side, checking the details on her limb enhancer’s screen which she had rigged-up to access the internet.  The enhancers, which she and Lapis had recovered from the ocean floor a few months prior, were supposed to be for “emergencies only”.  Peridot had become accustomed to not wearing them, after all, but sometimes they still had their uses regardless.

 Peridot heard a familiar sound approaching – and looked up to see a van emblazoned with the words “Mr. Universe”, which could only mean one thing...

 The green technician grinned as she greeted Greg and Steven.

 Steven quickly spotted the roll of parcel tape in the small Gem’s hand.  “What are you doing with that, Peridot?” he asked her.

 “I’m raising money for the Gemling!” Peridot enthusiastically answered, “I found an incredibly useful website called eBid!  It’s a place where you can advertise your old junk for other people to buy from you!”  She allowed herself a small cackle before proudly continuing, “So, I’m selling some of our spare stuff!  I’m boxing it up to send out now.  I’ve actually raised ten dollars from all this!”

 She beamed at Greg and Steven, who both smiled back.

 “That’s great, Peridot!” Steven told her, making the green Gem grin even more.

 “In the meantime, before you go spending all that money, we’ve bought a gift for you and Lapis,” said Greg, “We just need to fetch it out of the van.”

 Greg walked back over to the van and opened its doors. Sat inside was a partially-assembled bed as well as an assortment of blue blankets and pillows, a mattress, and... a rather large whale plush.

 “Oh, that was Steven’s idea,” explained Greg with a smirk when he spotted Peridot eyeing the plush, “I chose the rest.  It’s a queen-sized bed, so it should work for the both of you!”

 “Wow, thanks!” Peridot exclaimed, “Lapis is gonna love this!”

 “Shall we take it into the barn and put it together?” Steven asked excitedly.

 “No, we’ll need to assemble it outside.  Lapis is sleeping and I don’t want to wake her...” Peridot replied, slightly nervously, “She’s been getting a little... angry... these past few days.”

 Steven looked at his Dad in horror.

 “Don’t worry, Steven!  It’s just what happens sometimes during pregnancy,” an upbeat Greg told his son as he put a caring hand on his shoulder, “Could you just do me a quick favour and grab the toolkit from out of the van?”

 “Sure thing, Dad” he replied and hurried off to collect the tools.

 Greg moved much closer to Peridot, a warm expression written across his face.

 “It’ll be Lapis’ hormones, Peridot” Greg quietly told her once Steven was out of earshot.

 “Hormones?!” a puzzled Peridot asked, “But... that’s for organic life-forms, not for Gems.”

 “Isn’t pregnancy also something that Gem’s don’t usually experience, though?  And yet...”

 Peridot nodded in agreement.

 “She might snap at you a bit, and she might get upset – and even be really happy the next minute... but she won’t mean it,” he explained, “Please try not to take it to heart.  I know how you feel though, I’ve been there...”

 “Thank you, Greg,” Peridot said with a small smile, somewhat relieved by Greg’s words, “I appreciate your advice.”

 Just then, Steven came bounding back up to them, a toolbox in his hand.

 “Right then, let’s get this bed put together!” exclaimed Greg, quickly changing the subject in order to keep his son in the dark about his conversation with Peridot.  He looked at the green Gem and nodded, before climbing into the back of the van to begin retrieving the bed.

 ---

 The bed was fully assembled in no time, thanks to Greg and Peridot’s joint effort.  They stood back to admire their handiwork.  The metal bed frame was silver in colour, with a bright blue headboard to match the blue bedding.  Steven had proudly sat the whale plush in the centre of the bed so that Lapis wouldn’t miss it.

 “Let me help you carry it in, Peridot...” Greg said.

 “It’s okay, I’ve got this!” Peridot proclaimed, “I can get it inside silently...”

 She lifted her hands and the bed began to float above the floor.  Slowly but surely, she started quietly moving towards her home, carefully levitating the bed in front of her.  She was going to put the bed against the back wall, underneath the picture of Uncle Andy’s parents that still hung in pride of place in the barn, now that Lapis and Peridot’s “Occupied” morp (comprised of several toilets) had been moved out of the away.  

 “Easy, Peridot...” she whispered to herself as she lined the bed up.

 She hadn’t been quiet enough, though.  Pumpkin awoke behind her and jumped down from the hammock. Not realising quite why a large bed was floating way above the floor, the small vegetable instinctively barked at it. Peridot leapt into the air in shock – breaking her concentration and causing the bed to slam loudly onto the floor.

 “PUMPKIN!” she yelled angrily, “What’s the big idea?!”

 “PERIDOT! I could ask you the same thing!” came an even angrier voice from behind the green Gem.  Lapis was awake, and she was furious.

 “L-lapis!  I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, it was Pumpkin, she-”

 “I can’t get a moment’s peace around here!” Lapis fumed as she glared at Peridot.  The technician took a step back from her partner, and her face fell.  

 “Lapis!” Steven called as he gingerly entered the barn, “Please don’t be mad at Peridot, she was just trying to bring you a gift from my Dad.”

 Lapis looked at Steven in horror, and then at the bed that was in front of her.  The realisation that she’d once again been unnecessarily harsh on poor Peridot began to sink in.

 “Peridot... I’m so sorry,” Lapis said softly, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me...”  She walked towards Peridot, who immediately grabbed her into a loving hug.

 “It’s your hormones, Lapis,” she mumbled in the ocean Gem’s ear, “It’s okay.  But please, just try to calm down a little, it’s not good for you to get angry like this...”

 Lapis pulled out of the hug and nodded sadly, wiping a tear away from her eye.  She looked down at the bed in front of her and began to smile weakly.

 “Thanks Greg, Steven,” she told them, “This was really kind of you.”

 “It’s no problem!” Greg replied, “Any time!  You know where I am!  And you too, Peridot” he added, giving the green technician a knowing smile.

 Lapis sat on the bed, admiring how comfortable it was. She allowed herself a little smirk as she looked at the whale plush that was sitting neatly in the centre.  She picked it up just as Pumpkin leapt onto the bed to join her.  The veggie took one look at the whale and then immediately tried to knock it out of her Mom’s arms.

  “Pumpkin! There’s no need to get jealous of the whale!” she laughed as she set the plush back down again.  The others laughed along with her as they watched Pumpkin force herself onto Lapis’ knee, looking very proud of herself as she did so.

 ---

 Once their guests had left, Peridot and Lapis sat back down on the bed together.  Peridot slipped her limb enhancers off and ran her hand through her hair with a deep sigh. She felt exhausted.

 “Peridot... I’m really sorry,” Lapis said again, gently taking Peridot’s free hand in her own, “I’m so bad at this...”

 “No no no, Lapis, it’s okay,” Peridot answered her.

 “No, it’s not okay!” the ocean Gem exclaimed, “Hormones or no hormones, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that!”

 Peridot smiled at her.  “Lapis, please don’t worry about it...”

 They sat looking at each other for a moment, when Lapis noticed something about her partner.

 “Peridot – you look so tired,” Lapis said with concern, “You should get some rest.”

 She leaned over to the small green Gem and kissed her cheek.  Peridot felt her face burning up slightly, her obvious blushing causing Lapis to let out a little snort of laughter.  They’d been together for so long, but even after all this time Lapis’ kisses never failed to make Peridot blush.

 “C’mon, Peri, please try to get some sleep...”

 Peridot couldn’t argue with Lapis.  She hated sleeping, but knew it would be for the best this time.  She lay down next to her girlfriend, who gently placed the whale plush into the sleepy Gem’s arms with a wry smile.

 Peridot closed her weary eyes and began to drift into a deep sleep.  Lapis sat next to her whilst she fell asleep, watching over her and caringly stroking her blonde hair.  Once the technician was sound asleep, Lapis slowly got up from the bed.  She gently kissed Peridot’s forehead and smiled warmly at her.

 “Goodnight, Peridot” she whispered as she tiptoed away from the bed, Pumpkin following along behind her.