#“if you can't handle this fact you should drop out” and it's literally a fake fact

[ihaventcomeupwthanameforaheroyet]

I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I think instead of reading the last 3 VC books, you should have dropped the series. You would have saved yourself a lot of pain. I don’t think even half the things all the vampires have forgiven one another for are forgivable, but forgiveness has been given, and that’s their choice. Besides…. If I don’t like fish and I eat tuna casserole… well. I’m sorry to tell you this, but Louis was never going anywhere, and even though he’s a selfish bitch, he does love Lestat. Louis is the person Lestat can never let go of, and no matter how toxic it is, they have a love. Louis literally tried to kill himself because he couldn’t bear the thought of living without Lestat. If you can’t handle that fact, you should drop out. I actually think David is a dick, but if Lestat loves him, and Louis respects him, then I’ll accept it. Louis is a main character, like Marius and Armand. That was never going to change. It came close, but Anne quickly decided to accept Louis’ survival. If you can’t accept things you can’t change, you need to find some things you can. You’ll be much happier for it.

Excuse me, so you think I should "drop out" like... I have already finished the books, there is no way to unread them now. If this is another variation of "if you don't like loustat, you can't be in the fandom" - get lost. Who do you think you are, fandom police?

And most importantly... you are some random anon on the internet. Who cares what you think? Thank you for your opinion, bye.

(As a side note, Louis tried to kill himself once, and it happened because of Claudia. And if someone twists the facts while trying to make a point, everyone immediately understands they have no actual facts to support their POV. Bad strategy.)

[theghostbunnie]

Don’t know if you’ve done this already but do you have any Max and Neil headcannons? separately I mean

I gotchu fam

Let's kick this off with a big one: I think Neil has a secret laboratory at one of his parents houses. Think Dexter's lab from CN or even Moon girl from Disney. I'd think he would wanna put it in his dad's place bc his mom would find it faster but I always imagined his dad had an apartment. Neil makes it work somehow. It's where he goes to have ultimate me time and just get to work on stuff. He's created an area where he feels so comfortable/safe he really lets loose in there. His friends do NOT get to know about it !!!!! They end up stumbling across it by mistake and he'll let them in there occasionally as a treat. Nothing more!!! That's his area.

Neil secretly likes bee gees. He grew up with Carl playing it all the time and regrettably it gets stuck in his head sometimes. He more openly likes lyricless techno. Something to just zone out to. A little bit back to the lab hc: he dances while he works sometimes.

This next one is cannon to me: he likes bedazzled/studded(?) lab coats and leather jackets. He probably doesn't think he can pull leather jackets off normally or will get made fun of if he tries but like every time throughout the show his confidence hits a certain high that's what he puts on. Ered gets her cool back, and in the Hanukkah episode too. In Cameron Campbell can't handle the truth he winks/walks in slow motion wearing his bedazzled studded lab coat again. I'm so certain he made it himself.

Funny/joke HC: as he gets older he starts having a gun on stand by if what he's working on becomes too sentient

Okay before this gets too long I'll move on to the Max ones

Marina fan!!!!! I take no criticisms on this!!/j I have broken down my reasons in detail why multiple of her songs fit in my interpretation of him multiple times and I would gladly do it again.

I think Max has this version of himself in his mind he's always trying to achieve and convey to others. For the most part it works, and that's what he is, but he's still human and it falters and it pisses him off when it does.

I think in the parents day episode, he wasn't just crying bc his parents didn't care to show up. (and it had nothing to do with the fact David raised his voice at him imo, David had done that before) it was the fact his parents didn't show up/give him an activity and he was trying to play it off and hide it all day and when David found out this man's face dropped in front of him. It embarrassed Max bc he was actively trying to hide that and instead it came out. It was a mix of the situation itself and the embarrassment he didn't want anyone to know that's what was happening or that it affected him.

Y'all are gonna hate me for this one/j: those piercings I cover my older Max design with? Fake. He's afraid of needles but can't let that interfere with the drip. They're faux. Kept on with an eyelash glue equivalent.

He pulls his hair and kicks his legs to stim. He does It all the time throughout the show. The hair pulling when he gets too happy or angry or stressed for him to handle and the leg kicking when bored or scared in different degrees. When he's standing up he tries to mask it more but sometimes it comes out of him as a stomp.

He will literally be stomping and pulling his hair and some people don't take him seriously when it gets to that point.

He's undiagnosed too.💪

His friends rub off on him over time and he's alot more evilly goofy/mischievous instead of just "over it" all the time. He's still plenty over it, just not as much.

I feel like I should add at least one joke I've written onto Max's portion just to even It out

I feel like I have loads more I just can't remember them all rn aaaaaa

[juuheizou]

yo we know that juuzou doesn't really talk about his feelings but do you think w a significant other like mutsuki he would perhaps be more open?🤔 do you imagine they having late night deep conversations and moments of emotional vulnerability? if so, how does that go? like with all development he's got, how does juuzou talk about his feelings/vent and is open to emotional comfort? how do these moments happen?tysmm in advanceee💘

I don't think it will ever be his first instinct-- he just reads to me as someone who tends to try and pick apart his problems and figure out what to do about them on his own, on the occasion that he realizes he has a problem, and more than being particularly reserved, he just doesn't think to share and involve other people unless there is something practical he knows he needs from them. But I can see that being a skill he gets better at, specifically with Mutsuki as his partner in practicing it more.

Mutsuki, as we know with other characters, can not just read people who do everything in their power not to be read, but has the kindness and the empathy-used-for-good to engage with them in a way that can literally calm the savage beast. Suzuya might be another hard read, though in a different way than Urie, but especially once they grow close, Mutsuki can tell when he's upset behind the nonchalant smile and when a simple 'do you want to talk about it?' can dramatically alter the course of how Suzuya was going to handle whatever is bothering him. And it's not like he actively avoids sharing with people he trusts, so a lot of the time all Suzuya needs to open up in that way is for someone to put the thought in his head.

When Suzuya does talk about his feelings, he is a fun mixture of open and direct while also experiencing legit alexithymia and just not having the same emotional reaction to some things that his peers do. He might struggle to label his feelings as happy, sad, angry, and sometimes all he knows is what he wants to do about them. So I can see Mutsuki gently insinuating the idea into his head that maybe they should talk about something, then Suzuya just drops a bomb like 'this other senior investigator I'm stuck sharing this case with has been barring all my ideas. Sometimes things were easier when other people were just something to stab hundred times and watch them die,” or “I put down this cat I had for three years, and Shinohara probably isn't gonna make it just like my cat, so maybe I would like curling up and dying too,” as casual as someone says they've been feeling a little down lately.

Mutsuki is just as kind and (even if he doesn't really understand, he will fake it until he does) understanding as ever and will follow whatever lead Suzuya gives him deeper and deeper. Sometimes Suzuya's way of articulating his feelings can be hard to hear, but he still musters up a calm 'that must be so sad to go through all at the same time. For what it's worth, I would really miss you if you curled up and died.' And they just keep going back and forth talking until Suzuya feels better or gets worked up enough to beat up one of his pillows or throw a stuffed animal or something cathartic he needed to do to start feeling better. His arms are open when Suzuya gets all his thoughts out and needs a hug.

Suzuya is a smart cookie in his own way and can usually figure out solutions to things he can in fact solve (and work himself up into meltdown-level frustration trying to solve things he can't) on his own or with just an opportunity to talk himself through his thoughts with someone who will listen, but if he is really stuck enough to seek out an answer, which is REALLY stuck because underneath his outer appearance of indifference he is REALLY stubborn about things that actually matter to him, sometimes what he needs is a more Mutsuki-like idea for what to do. He always has a solution, sometimes unsolicited and unwanted, when Mutsuki has something to cry on his shoulder about, and in turn Mutsukki does his best to offer suggestions.

The first time he comes to Mutsuki on his own just to talk, Mutsuki definitely noticed it more than Suzuya did and really took it to heart that talking to him is on Suzuya's list of ways he can fix his problems. And, at that point in their relationship, that he actually has things of value to help Suzuya with, rather than Suzuya always coming to his rescue for nothing in return. I can see them occasionally having deep talks late at night or at the dinner table. Not super often, but I can see it happening when a situation at work or in life demands it.

[ghostietea]

Furuba autistic headcanons

With it being April, or autism acceptance month, I wanted to finally drop my list of characters from Fruits Basket that I read as autistic! This is based a lot on my own experience, as well as that of other autistics I know or have seen talk online. I hope some people can get something out of it, feel free to tell me what you think 😊, though please refrain from getting upset that I would dare suggest your fave is autistic.

Hanajima

Before becoming able to better control her powers, she would be constantly overwhelmed by the things she heard to the point that she couldn't even really go out in public. This reads a lot like sensory overload.

Constantly picked on in school because other kids thought she was weird. Eventually reclaimed this weirdness and turned it into a whole persona.

Seems to talk usually in a relatively flat tone.

Had trouble socializing with no friends outside her family until middleschool.

Has a very funny, dry sense of humor that I find very similar to a bunch of autistics I know, including myself.

Hatsuharu

Listen. You have seen the funky little man, you have seen the way he talks, the way he acts around others. He is, and I mean this in the best way, a weirdo. I do not know how you could look at him and see a neurotypical.

Once again, like Hana, Haru is funny in a way that feels very autistic.

Very flat, dry, tone delivery. Sometimes just Says Things that make everyone else go huh??? Suuuuper blunt. Doesn't emote facially a lot of the time.

When this man sees a social norm he doesn't get he WILL NOT follow it. Pierces his ears just because his hair got flak, defends Momiji wearing whatever he wants because sometimes y'know the social rules are just dumb and don't make sense. Especially dress codes.

Sometimes says things not befitting the current tone of the situation.

Represses (masks) a lot of his emotions, leading to outbursts that seem uncharacteristic.

His main childhood trauma revolves around adults branding him as "dumb" and ridiculing him. Haru, however, is super smart and wise!! Just in an offbeat way that not everyone may get.

Machi

Reads as very "flat" emotionally to the point that others would call her boring. Also has a flat vocal delivery.

Relies on specific habits or ways of doing things or else she gets super upset (her hatred of imperfection.

Has trauma surrounding adults completely misconstruing her intentions and thinking she's doing something malicious when she's not.

Generally behaves in a way that's hard for others to understand, one of her formative moments with Yuki was him saying he wanted to "see how the world looks" through her eyes.

Once again, trouble socializing.

Tries super hard to please her parents but in the end they still see her as somehow inherently "defective."

Listen. A lot of this one and the last two are mostly vibes, hard to verbally define. You just have to look at them and trust me.

Tohru

Displays behavior very reminiscent of masking throughout the story, a huge part of her arc is about how she hides a lot of herself and has a very controlled persona. I think it would fit very well if she had other autistic behaviors that she suppresed also it helps explain why she is relatively socially adept, it's learned behavior to make people like her more.

Yes she is very good at saying what others need to hear, but especially early on she is pretty blatantly imitating her mother's words. She only gets better at getting through on a more personal level later on (see her with Rin and Akito v. early series Tohru). She does this by relating her own experiences, a very autistic way of showing empathy that often gets us written off as self centered. The way she relays things her mom said could also be seen as this, and she even worries at a few points that she's being insensitive for going on about things like that.

While emotionally repressed she is hyper empathetic and feels other's emotions so strongly she cries.

Her speech patterns are all imitated from her father and she often copies verbal things from others (see Ritchan-san). Noted in canon that people think her way of speaking is slightly off/not befitting of someone her age. Additionally, her father was polite more sarcastically, while she plays it straight and sometimes takes things very literally or fails to get the message, indicating trouble with reading tone. Has numerous strange verbal tics, including saying parts of her internal monologue out loud without context.

Very expressive with her hands including waving them around and flapping them up and down.

Does have a bit of trouble with accidental insensitivity in social interactions, like how she constantly fixates on her mom and realizes that might bug the Sohma.

Has trouble paying attention in school since it doesn't have much to do with her interests

Her only friend until she was a middle schooler was her mom

Has a pretty unique outlook on things compared to others, people seem to think she's pretty eccentric. There's always a "this girl is nice but in an odd way, she's our weirdo and we love her" vibe.

Sometimes has an "inappropriate" emotional response to situations

Has a lot of trouble with change, similar to Akito. Which oh, look at the time, next hc coming up.

But first, a disclaimer. It is cathartic for me to read Akito this way, but with that reading comes the baggage that she would, mayhaps, be showing a more negative side of things... It doesn't bother me since it's a joint hc with other characters and she does develop at the end but yeah, general villain hc baggage. This is in no way me trying to excuse her being The Worst being autistic doesn't absolve you of being able to do wrong . Also, a lot of these points can and do have other explanations related to her upbringing, but things can be for more than 1 reason. With that said, she really strongly comes off as autistic to me, in a way that's sorta hard to explain. I wrote a lot more for her than the other, both because I felt I needed more to convince people and that this headcanon was more sensitive and I needed to be careful in my explanation. Also hey! She's my special interest within a special interest.

Akito

Shown to have a dislike of summer weather due to heat and brightness, could be due to sensory issues in tandem with sickness things. Also covers her ears when people raise their voice sometimes which is partially her trying to shut down opposition but also 🤔 can read a different way. She'd also avoids louder Juuni like Ritsu and Ayame because she can't handle them.

Wears pretty much the same outfit every single day. Said outfit is also pretty loose fitting.

Always seen sitting in a pretty unconventional way. Evidence:

Of course this is also the isolated in a cult thing and there is a level of her purposefully doing things to intimidate but: doesn't follow a lot of social rules (overly touchy with strangers, legit doesn't get that what she's doing is wrong, ect.). Repeatedly confused when people indicate she should act otherwise without explanation. Has a breakdown when this comes to a head and approximately says that "they" shouldn't expect her to know "common sense" if "they" never explained it to her, that the way that she was was her "common sense."

Often talks in a way uncharacteristic of her age when shown as a child in a more faux mature/pretentious way. Might just be the translation and idk how to explain it but her speech as an adult also seems off from what one would normally use in conversation. Additionally, when she tries to fake being friendly in her intro chapter, it comes of as extremely stiff and unconvincing.

Generally displays behavior that could be thought of as childish as an adult, but a lot of this behavior could also read as autistic (covering ears, emotional deregulation and meltdowns, ignorance of basic social norms, ect.). It's also important to note that she knows that this behavior makes her seem younger and more helpless to the older zodiac and uses it as a manipulation tactic. Has issues regarding people treating her like a child or only hanging out with her because of pity. While she does weaponize it, we can tell that this grates on her, as seen with her finally blowing up on Kureno, which is partially triggered by the maids saying some sorta infantalizing stuff about her. Irl, a lot of autistic adults and teens struggle with being infantalized for our behavior generally or treated as little babies that can do no wrong. Even in fandom, you see people doing stuff like jumping to call autistic adult characters, such as Entrapta from Shera, "minor coded." It is also common for us to have at least one bad experience with someone hanging around us out of pity. This is something that really gave me a similar feeling in Akito's arc. She's not a baby and she can understand and do better if she is given the chance to learn and break from all the freaky cult indoctrination she's been subjected to instead of just being constantly enabled. In the end, a lot of her growth is represented by her showing that she is capable of changing and being independent.

Shows particular difficulty with socialization, often sits by herself spacing out at social events. A lot of her fear is rooted in the fact that she doesn't know how normal relationships work, becoming overly reliant on the curse because she doesn't know how to make friends.

Clings desperately onto the notion of being "special" and in some way superior to others to be worthy and to make up for perceived inherent "flaws." It's the nd gifted kid burnout vibes for me.

Easily bothered by things that don't bother others. Feels emotions very strongly to the point of getting physically ill and has bad emotional regulation.

Relatively good at reading others in an analytical sense (though has more trouble when it comes to seeing how they feel about her since she's wildly delusional) but brings up her observations in a very cold, detached way and hurts people even on the rare occasion she didn't mean to. Has extreme trouble connecting to others and understanding their point of view. This makes her come off as pretty unempathetic even though that might not fully be the case. Also thinks that people like Momiji are trying to look down on her when they try to empathize with her. A lot of why Tohru can get through to her is that she manages to convince Akito that she's not condescending by relating shared traits and experiences. As I said earlier, autistics often empathize by sharing their own experiences with someone, and I know I often have an easier time confiding in other autistics because of a fear of being seen as lesser by those that don't understand me. I think the connection between these charachters and the way that Tohru manages to reach Akito like that while others couldn't makes a lot of sense through an autistic lense!

Additionally, when Akito herself gets around to trying to help others instead of just projecting trauma, she tries to reach out to the old maid by relating back to her own experiences. This however, doesn't work.

Has "cold" emotional reactions sometimes even to things that do make her upset. For example, how sort of calm and detached she acted after her father's death can make her seem uncaring. However, we know that this event did mess her up a lot and she is still (poorly) dealing with a lot of grief from the death of her father years later.

Copies mannerisms from others, the most blatant example is with Ren, who she directly parrots lines from as a child to Yuki.

Partly just her posturing, but gestures a lot with her hands when she talks. Also seen several times clutching her hands in her hair.

Deals extremely poorly with the idea of things changing to the point that it is a driving force of the story.

Does not understand when people tease her.

Ect. Ect. Ect. Listen, I could go on for ages but just trust me, the mean gremlin lady is autistic.

[isthisitbytaylornicole]

"is this it?" BLOG POST #1: hey, you! meet adulthood. the ghetto, if you will...

Author's Note:

First of all, welcome to my blog! It feels so surreal to be saying that because this is something I have wanted to do for so long, but fear, laziness, and "plans" kept me from doing so. I am so happy that you have decided to take time out of your day to sit and read my post. I'm so excited to be able to share these stories with you all about my dirty little cousin, Adulthood. She doesn't mean any harm, she just doesn't know any better. Trust me. I hope you are intrigued by what I have to say and I would love to chat with you in the comments about these topics. Enjoy!

"Don't you find it odd, that when you're a kid, everyone, all the world, encourages you to follow your dreams. But when you're older, somehow they act offended if you even try."

-Unknown (The Hottest State)

I can say, without hesitation, that I was not fully prepared for what adulthood had to offer. She came without remorse, but made sure to bring all sorts of debt, the occasional iffy encounter, and topped it all off with a micro-aggression or two (or ten). In these instances where I was thrown into situations dealing with money, racism, self-identity, relationships, etc., how did I handle these episodes with minimal detrimental impact on my inner psyche? The answer; I didn't because I didn't know how to.

I vividly remember the process of applying to colleges, final senior presentations, deciding what school I wanted to go to, all while being molded in the belief that college was the best option, if not the only option, for young, black, teenagers, like myself, who wanted to be successful. Please don't misunderstand me when I say this. I definitely agree with the fact that as young adults we should be able to take advantage of all the opportunities given to us including continuing an education at a four-year institution and experiencing all that college has to offer like social engagements and freshmen fifteen. However, I do not believe that is the only way to solidify success in a society where situations like going to a four year conventional university have become the norm. While we are molded into believing a four-year college is one of only three options for teenagers of color [the other options being pregnancy or prison as stereotype culture has taught us] we are limited in the knowledge of only knowing how to make it TO college, and not how to be successful THROUGHOUT and beyond college and I am a prime example.

Due to the stigma of black high school dropouts, often times, high schools in cities like Detroit (who primarily house students of African decent) strive for one-hundred percent high school graduation and college acceptance rates ,as apposed to, one-hundred percent college fulfillment and graduation rates. In other words, they don't care how you get home from the party, as long as you were invited. And I mean who can blame them?! While primarily white high schools with students trying to decide if they want to attend either Harvard or Yale are spitting out graduates left and right, primarily black high schools can't even get scantron sheets on time for their junior students to take the SAT, which is it supposed to be an equal opportunity test for all students, accept those with brown skin of course. (This happened at my high school btw.)

Then I get to college only to see that all of my professors are old, white, dirty men, which is not in fact the demographic I grew up within. Is this it? Is this what my parents are paying almost forty-thousand dollars a year for? Is this your King?! 👨🏼‍🏫Well, I'm here now and I guess I need to stick this out. Never mind being one of only four black students in an intro to political science class of almost forty-five. Never mind having a black roommate who didn't know if she wanted to be Ebony or Ivory that day. Her white boyfriend did tell me I had nice skin one day which was nice of him. Never mind me working at the McDonald's right across the street from my dorm my freshman year where almost everyday somebody I knew would come and try to get free food from me. (That didn't really have anything to do with my hardships during my time at college, but it was irritating trying not to get caught smuggling cookies and McFlurries out of the store every other day. I was too nice obviously.) Never mind having to refrain from using any kind of ebonics in order to fit into conversations and/or lectures about political science topics in order to sound more professional and educated to my white peers and professors (A.K.A code switching😶‍🌫️ 🎛). Overall, the majority of my time spent inside the college classroom setting was often done in ways that involved me faking it until I made it, until I didn't make it.

I dropped out of college at the end of my sophomore year and at the time it seemed like my biggest failure. Not only did I feel like I failed myself, I felt like I failed my family and closest friends and quite literally I failed most of my classes😬. Not to mention the thousands of dollars in student loans left for me to pay back which was bound to happen anyways but that is a totally different conversation for another post. (Sallie Mae better hope she don't catch these hands.) I felt like, as do most young adults my age, there was a timeline on my success. If I didn't get that college degree in four years, and have a car and apartment by twenty, my life had no worth. This narrative was brought on not only by my school environment growing up, but it was brought on by the climate that we live in today. As young people, we are so easily influenced by pop culture, social media, YouTube, sports media, our peers, music and so many other ideals constantly bombarding our everyday lives. We're shown these unrealistic almost fantasy-like scenarios in which all you have to do it make a prank video in order to make money and once you have money, fame, and a VLONE shirt, boom, you have worth! Why am I rushing to fulfill these egregious standards set by these dull influencers who can't even spell egregious. Success does not have only one definition. To me, success is defined by your own standards and not society's. And college is not a one stop shop!

The picture of adulthood has been painted so monochromatically that I have at times lost my ability to dare to dream bigger than what has been laid before me with society's crusty hands. Yes I plan on finishing my education at a four year college, but at the time, my college experience would not have allotted me the opportunity to discover the world of Cyber Security and the many job opportunities and networks I've been exposed to.

All in all, take advantage of ALL the opportunities you encounter whether they are laid out in front of you or even if you have to network to find them.

This was just a piece of the perspectives I am excited to offer as I continue to share my stories in this world of blogging and rediscovery. I hope I didn't scare any of you off already because in my next blog piece I will be diving into more aspects of adulthood and the whole notion of relationships(romantic and non); do we really need them tho? and how do we weed out the bad ones and water the fruitful ones?

PLEASE TUNE IN ON TUESDAY FOR MY NEXT INSTALLMENT OF "IS THIS IT?" BY TAYLOR NICOLE AND THANK YOU FOR READING!💛

By: Taylor Nicole

LEAVE YOUR THOUGHTS AND COMMENTS BELOW! I WOULD LOVE TO CHAT.💛

[the-sympathetic-villain]

You Belong With Me - Chapter 24

AO3 | First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

Description:  Much to his surprise, after being released from prison for a crime he  didn’t commit, Logan has been appointed as a the prince’s new advisor.  

Word Count: 7665

Chapter Warnings: Romance, Angst, Anxiety, Low-Self Worth, Restraints (Let me know if I need to add anything!)

Author’s note: If you didn’t realize, I posted two chapters last weekend! If you didn’t catch that, make sure you read Chapter 23! Otherwise, this is going to be super confusing! I’m going to leave that chapter pinned to the top of my blog for a while and the ‘Previous’ link should work too.

-

    Logan yawned, stretching his arms above his head. His eyes fluttered open, slowly adjusting to the soft morning light peeking through the slit in the curtain. He blinked uncertainly for a moment before remembering where he was. Logan smiled as Roman stirred next to him. He stilled his movement, careful not to wake the man snoring adorably next to him.

    A few seconds later, Roman settled back into sleep and Logan relaxed, letting his arm rest gently Roman's shoulder. He wrapped his hand around the back of Roman’s neck, staring up at him. The warmth of Roman’s legs resting against his radiated up through his body and he sighed, breathless.

    Roman’s face was peaceful even as he slept. He was still beautifully put together, despite the fact that his usually pristine hair was mussed from sleep, dropping down over his eyes. Logan smiled as he slowly pushed the hair out of Roman’s eyes, attempting to do so without waking the sleeping prince. He chuckled softly, knowing he'd failed as he felt Roman's arm wrap tighter around his waist. Logan's skin tingled as Roman’s fingers moved across his back. He looked up to see Roman’s big, brown eyes sparkling down him in the morning light.

    “Good morning.” Roman smiled peacefully.

    “Morning, princey.” Logan yawned, smirking playfully up at Roman.

    Roman cracked a smile at him. His eyes were only half open as he raised an eyebrow. “You’re getting to be awfully bold, Lo.”

    Logan blushed nervously. “Is that okay?”

    “Of course. Never stop, Lo.” Roman grinned, pulling Logan closer. “I like it when you're brave.”

    Logan smiled as he reached his hand up, brushing his fingertips down Roman’s jaw. Roman's eyes closed and he leaned into Logan's hand, exhaling slowly.

    “What does this mean for us, princey?” Logan asked, sadness creeping into his voice.

    “What do you want it to mean?” Roman leaned his head forward, gently resting his forehead on Logan's.

    “I don't know.”

    “It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Roman reassured him. “not if you don't want it to.”

    Logan was quiet for a long moment. He pondered Roman's words for a moment before replying. “I want it to mean something, Roman.”

    “Then, it means something." Roman tipped his head up, kissing Logan’s forehead. "This is whatever you want it to be, Logan.”

    “Roman," Logan's voice ached with sadness. He hesitated, barely able to spit out his words. "Please, stop. You can't—”

    Roman froze. He nearly pulled his hands away as he turned down to look at him, but he froze at the sight of Logan's eyes glistening with tears. "What do you want me to stop, Logan?"

    Logan bit his lip, growing tense. He seemed to hold his breath before exhaling sharply. “You can't keep just giving me what I want.”

    “Why not?” Roman’s tension eased as he started to tease Logan. “I enjoy giving you what you want.”

    “Roman, be serious for one minute.” Logan frowned. “What do you want out of this?”

    Roman relaxed his head down on the pillow, speaking thoughtfully.“I want to give you everything you want, Logan.”

    Logan started to pull away from him when Roman reached his hand up around the back of Logan’s neck. Logan looked up at him to see a serious expression on the princes face.

   “I'm not joking, Logan. I want to make sure you never want for anything again.” Roman stared dreamily into Logan's bright blue eyes. “Your smile makes me weak and I'd give anything to see it, love.”

    “Roman, I…” Logan's voice trailed off as he stared up into Roman's eyes, still at a loss for words.

     After a moment of silence, Roman spoke again. “Logan, I am all in right now. Whatever moments with you I can steal from this world that would keep us apart, I want them. That's why this is your choice, Lo. You set the boundaries of what you feel comfortable with and I will take whatever that ends up being. Okay?”

    “There’s no scenario where this works out well for either of us.” Logan whispered.

    “It's not a situation that is likely to work out in our favor.” Roman sighed, leaning back from Logan. He looked down into Logan’s eyes. “Logan, I want to remind you that you don't have to do any of this. If this morning with you is all I get, then so be it. I will respect whatever decision you make.”

    Logan looked away, hesitantly putting a hand on Roman's arm. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke again. "What would happen if our relationship was discovered?”

    “In all likelihood, nothing at all, Logan.” Roman rolled over onto his back. “I am a prince. It is more or less expected for me to entertain other relationships outside of the suitors court for my attentions.”

    Logan raised his hands to Roman’s chest and looked up at him nervously. “It's not against the law then?”

    “God, no.” Roman’s grip on him tightened. “I wouldn’t consider taking the risk if it was illegal. You’re not getting arrested on my behalf again.”

     “Is it safe, Roman?”

     “Nothing is without risk, Lo, but the only people with enough power to cause problems for us are the acting king" Roman paused hesitantly. "and possibly Remus, if he made enough of a fuss.”

    Logan tensed.

    “We can hold this secret from Remus. He never needs to know and even if he did, I would have to give him reason to think I am not capable of doing my job.” He paused. “And my father will only intervene if our relationship impairs my ability to follow through on my duties.”

    Logan bit his lip, his hands instinctively clenching onto the fabric of Roman's shirt. “Roman, I've done nothing but distract you from your duties from the moment I met you.”

    “Lo, you saved my life. Whether you realize it or not, you are already in my father's good graces.” Roman smirked Not to mention, though you may at the center of my thoughts rather constantly, it hasn't affected my ability to do my job. I know it is hard to believe but I do actually work when I leave you with Virgil.”

    Logan smiled up at him, relieved. “I'm grateful to head that the chaos I've caused hasn't been a detriment to your responsibilities.”

     “Not at all. If anything, I've been more energized to handle my responsibilities in a timely manner with you around.” Roman  looked into Logan’s eyes and brought their interlaced hands up to his face, kissing Logan’s knuckles. He sighed. “Logan, I'm going to be transparent with you.”

    “Okay.” Logan’s hairs on his arm stood on end with anxiety.

    “If we got involved, I would still have to entertain suitors.” Roman paused, exhaling slowly with a serious look in his eyes. “I’m expected to marry for political gain, and if I were to stop, it would raise concern about our relationship affecting my priorities.”

    Logan was quiet, staring down at their hands, interlaced together.

    “It doesn’t have to mean anything, Lo. I can fake my way through that. Honestly, it wouldn't be much of a change from before. Those who have come seeking my hand have had a track record of being rather boring.”

    Logan pulled his hand back from Roman's. Gently, he pushed Roman’s hand open so that their outstretched palms pressed against each other in between them.

    “But eventually, you'd have to follow through." Logan said tiredly. “You can't remain a perpetual bachelor in your position.”

    “You’re right, Lo. I can't promise you a happy ending.” Roman nodded and leaned close. “I'll understand if you want to don't want this.”

    “You're not giving me a choice, Roman.”

    Roman opened his mouth to protest but before he could make a sound, Logan's lips pressed against his own. He ran his fingers through the prince's soft hair. He wrapped his hand around the back of the Roman’s head pulling him closer. Logan took over, kissing Roman until he was out of breath.

     When Logan finally pulled away, he rolled onto his back, breathing hard. He spoke between breaths, resting his head as he smiled up at Roman. “It's entirely irrational, but I want to see where this goes. Truly, we have passed the figurative point of no return.”

    Roman smiled, raising an eyebrow. “You don't have to say ‘figurative’. I am aware we aren’t at a literal point of no return.”

    Logan blushed, smiling at him. “A little clarification never hurt anyone.”

    Roman smiled and then paused, his face becoming serious. “Are you sure about this, Lo?”

    “Absolutely certain, my prince.” Logan leaned into Roman’s chest, feeling Roman hesitantly wrap his arms around him. They laid together for a long while, simply enjoying each other’s warmth, until Logan heard a bell tower toll in the distance. Logan lifted his head, counting the strikes of the bell. Roman groaned as the tower chimed the either hour.

    Logan turned his head down to him, concerned. “What's wrong, Ro?”

    Roman moaned, leaning his forehead into Logan’s shoulder. “I have to go.”

    “Don’t go.” Logan whined. "Stay with me a little longer."

    Roman laughed quietly. “What happened to not distracting me from my responsibilities?”

    “I reserve the right to change my mind.” Logan grumbled pitifully.

    “I'm sorry, Lo. I can't be late for this meeting.” Roman smiled as he turned and jumped off the bed, leaving Logan looking dejected.

    “Who's really going to miss you, Ro?” Logan teased, hanging his arm over the edge of the bed as he watched Roman scramble to gather himself.

     “My father will probably notice if I don’t show up, so I think this is one for me to take seriously.” Roman called over his shoulder while digging through his wardrobe.

    Logan exhaled dramatically. Honestly, he had to admit it was entertaining to watch Roman get flustered while he rushed. “Fine. I suppose I will accept that as valid excuse for abandoning me.”

    Roman paused to look back at him with an over-exaggerated roll of his eyes before smiled at Logan and turning to pull various articles of clothing out of the drawers.

    “Alright. If you must go, I’ll leave you to get dressed.” Logan smiled at him and rolled lazily off the bed and turned to go.

    “I'll be out in a minute, Lo.” The prince called after him and he smiled as the door closed behind him.

-

    Logan wandered into the main room, staring at the ground with a happy smile. Lifting his head, he froze in place. A chill ran up his spine as he noticed a fire already burning in the fireplace. He stepped forward slowly, cautiously eyeing the edges of the room as he moved. Skirting the end of the couch, he peeked over the corner and relaxed, seeing Virgil lying haphazardly across the cushions.

    “Good morning, Vee.” Logan straightened and smiled, coming around the front of the sofa. Heat radiated out of the fireplace and Logan shivered, enjoying the warm contrast to the chilling morning air.

    “Morning, L.” Virgil muttered tiredly, making room for Logan.

    Logan dropped down beside him and yawned. “You’re here early.”

    Virgil shrugged and sunk deeper into the corner of the armrest. “I knew princey had to leave early this morning.”

    “How long have you been out here?” Logan crossed his arms across his chest, curling himself into the opposite corner.

    “About an hour or so.”

    “I'm sorry, Vee. If I’d realized, I would have come out sooner.” Logan ran his fingers through his hair and leaned his elbow onto the back of the couch.

    “It's all good, L." Virgil smiled. "You both needed your rest.”

    “I appreciate the thought.” Logan smiled, biting his reddened lip, knowing well that he had certainly not been asleep for the past hour.

    “Did you sleep okay?” Virgil crossed his arms over his legs, leaning forward.

    “Better than I have in a long time.”

    Virgil raised an eyebrow and Logan couldn’t help notice him glance back at Roman’s door before turning back to Logan curiously. “Good, L. I'm glad.”

    Logan paused for a moment, stiffening as he glanced around the room. “Where’s Patton?”

    Virgil shrugged. “He had to go back to work. I escorted him to the greenhouses this morning before I came here.”

    “Is that safe?” Logan looked at him cautiously, still concerned.

     Virgil nodded tiredly. “I assigned one guard to accompany him and another two to guard each entrance to the greenhouse he's in today. Even if Remus has a few of them in his pocket, they won't act openly in the middle of the day. Not when I know the identities of the men I left him with.” Virgil smirked. “I also informed those men if anything happened to him, I'd personally ensure they spent the rest of their miserable lives in prison.”

    “You have the authority to do that?” Logan asked, surprised.

   “To give them life in prison?” Virgil snorted. “No, but they don’t need to know that.”

    Logan looked at him with confusion. “But you have the authority to reassign them at your own will?”

    “Yes.” Virgil smirked, blowing his hair out of his eyes. “You've seen me give orders to the guard before. Why is that so surprising?"

    “I suppose you're correct.” Logan furrowed his brow. “I guess I was under the assumption that they followed your orders because they recognized me as Roman's charge. I didn't assume the guards acted on your authority alone.”

   “Well, I am officially ranked as part of the kingdom’s knighthood.” Virgil smirked at the look of shock on Logan’s face. “So, yes. They damn well better answer to my authority.”

    “You're a knight?” Logan looked at him in disbelief.

    “What's so hard to believe?” Virgil prodded, smiling at Logan.

    “I'm sorry. I just…” Logan paused, trying to find the words. “To be frank, I guess I may have based my expectations for a knight on a inaccurate stereotype.”

    “Nah, your stereotype if probably more accurate than you think. My appointment was not typical. Most knights are the children of nobles looking to gain a little notoriety by serving under Roman. They apprentice to be one and spend years learning to fight,” Virgil shrugged nonchalantly but Logan could see pride in his eyes as Virgil looked up at him. “but I was knighted as an honor for services to the crown.”

    “Services to the crown?” Logan asked, curiously.

    “I’ve saved Roman's life a few times over the years. The king apparently thought that it'd be best to give me a title with the ability to issue commands under Roman's authority." Virgil winked at him with a cocky expression on his face. "Just in case princey gets himself in trouble, and needs me to bail him out again."

    Logan chewed on his lip nervously. “Doesn’t that mean that you owe loyalty to the all of the royal family?”

    Virgil snorted in disgust. “No. I only agreed to swear fealty to Roman. I owe no more loyalty to the kings or Remus than you do.”

    Logan raised an eyebrow “The king allowed you to stipulate conditions on your knighthood?”

    Virgil proud grin widened. “At first, I flat-out refused the appointment. I think that surprised the acting king. He pried into my reasoning for denying him and I chose not to hide my distrust of authority. Fortunately, my loyalty to Roman is absolute. He chose to allow me to only swear fealty to Roman, because he knows I will do everything in my power to keep him safe.”

    "The acting king?"

    Virgil nodded. "There are two kings. Roman and Remus' fathers, but only one of them controls the throne. He is the acting king."

    Logan blinked, confused. "This may be an odd question, but are Roman and Remus biological heirs to the throne?"

    "It's complicated, but yes. The throne has access to magical healers that are well above Patton's level. The rulers of our kingdom have the ability to conceive through the use of a surrogate mother, if they need to do so." Virgil paused. "Though it is worth noting that if the kings had chosen to adopt, the child would have been recognized as a legitimate heir to the throne. Roman's family remains in power so long as they are deemed worthy of the throne. They earn their right to rule through their actions, not through supposed divinity like other kingdoms. The bloodline doesn't matter so much as their how well they do their job."

    "Does that mean he can lose his throne?"

    Virgil shrugged. "Not easily, but yes. For instance, if he's a bumbling idiot and gives an official oath, failure to keep his promise could get his claim to the throne revoked."

    “Interesting.” Logan pondered out loud, lost in thought. “So, if you're a knight, shouldn’t I refer to you by title? Like Sir Virgil?”

    “If you call me that, L, I will personally cut out your tongue.” Virgil snarled with a wicked grin.

    “Don't threaten Logan, Virgil.” Roman said, coming out of his room, idly fixing the cuffs on his shirt as he moved about distractedly.

     “Logan brought this on himself, princey. You can't protect him from me.” Virgil called over to him in a mocking tone. “Besides, you don't have time to be stop me. You’re going to be late.”

    “You’re right. Sorry, Lo. You’re on your own.” Roman smirked looked around. “You've sorted out Patton, Virge?”

    “He's protected. I imagine we'll join him again here shortly.”

    “Thank you for your help, Virgil.” Roman said, appreciatively. “Do either of you need anything else from me?”

     Virgil looked to Logan. “I think we're good, princey.”

    “Lo?” Roman inquired.

    “I'm okay. I'll see you later today.” Logan smiled sweetly at him.

    Roman smiled back. “Okay. I will see you both later. Take care of yourselves.”

    Virgil and Logan said their goodbyes as Roman headed out the door. As the door swung shut, Logan turned back to Virgil. “So what now, Vee?”

    Virgil jumped to his feet. “I promised Patton I'd bring you down to him so he can take a look at that cut on your face.”

    “Okay.” Logan nodded. “Well, I supposed it is fortunate that I still have some clothing here from when we were stuck here for a week.”

    “Yeah, that’s true." Virgil paused, watching Logan stand up, thoughtfully. "We probably should eventually get you settled back in your place again.”

    Logan was careful to keep his face neutral as his heart dropped. He felt a twinge of disappointment, knowing he couldn’t spend every night with Roman. “You’re probably right, Vee.”

    “Yeah.” Virgil looked like he might say something but he shook his head. “I'm not sure how that's going to work anyway. It was one thing when Roman and I were trading off protecting you, but now, we've got to keep an eye on Patton as well.”

    Logan bit his lip, feeling guilty. “I'm sorry for all the inconveniences I've caused you.”

    Virgil stared at him for a moment. “Stop apologizing, L.”

    “Sorr—”

    Virgil raised an eyebrow.

    Logan paused and sighed. “I don't know how to stop, Vee. I can't possibly convey how much I appreciate what you guys have put yourselves through to help me.”

    “I'm not saying you can’t appreciate our support, L,” Virgil looked up at Logan. “but you don't need to feel guilty. You’re worth the effort.”

    Logan fidgeted uncomfortably as another wave of guilt washed over him. Virgil moved over to him, gently resting his hands on Logan’s shoulders. “I can't imagine how all of this has affected you, but you don't need to worry. I told you so much the first day I met you. Roman doesn’t abandon people and neither do I.”

    Logan suddenly felt weak. Virgil’s words were simultaneously comforting and overwhelming.

    “In almost any case, we'll embrace you, L.” Virgil smiled as Logan glanced up at him appreciatively. “I'm sorry. That was pretty heavy. Go get dressed and let’s go find Pat, okay?”

    “Okay, Vee.” Logan took a step back and started to head to the other room before pausing thoughtfully. “Virgil?”

    “Yeah, L?” Virgil looked over at him as Logan turned around.

    “I am a bit overwhelmed at the moment but your words—” Logan looked up at him with a grateful smile. “—they help. Thank you.”

    “Good.” Virgil smiled.

-

    “Logan! Good morning!” Patton came running up to him as he followed Virgil into the greenhouse. This building was one he'd visited with Roman, when he'd first been introduced to Patton. The greenhouse had dozens of rows of planters arranged in neat rows, all separated out by plant type. The air smelled sweet from the exotic greenery as Patton dashed between them.

      Patton nearly knocked him over with the force of his hug as he bounded over to them. A guard slowly followed behind him and Logan tensed, watching him over Patton’s shoulder as they approached while he spoke to Patton. “Good morning. It would seem you finally got an adequate amount of rest, Pat.”

    “I feel a lot better.” Patton beamed up at him. “How about you, kiddo? Did you sleep okay?”

    “I slept better than I have in years, Patton.” Logan smiled appreciatively. “Thank you.”

    Patton beamed at him. “Good. I'm glad. How's the rest of your body feel?”

    Logan “My muscles are still weak and little stiff, but the pain is basically negligible at this point.”

    “Good, Lo. I think, if everything looks okay, the bandages could probably come off today. Except for your face, of course.”

    “You think so?” Logan asked, surprised.

    “Yeah, at this point, it'd be better if they could breathe a little, kiddo. Assuming they've closed, we shouldn't have to worry about infection anymore.” Patton paused. He glanced over to Virgil. “You still need to be very careful though. Too much activity could open them up again.”

    “What’s that look for, Pat?” Virgil teased, leaning on the wall. “Do you think I was going to work him too hard?”

    “Can you blame me?” Patton looked at him suspiciously. “You won’t tell me what you’re doing with him today and it makes me nervous.”

    Virgil's expression softened a bit. “Pat, nothing I'm planning on doing anything that will get him hurt. You don't have to worry.”

    “So, tell me—”

    “No.” Virgil cut him off sternly. “It’s better for everyone if only Logan knows.”

    Logan looked between their serious expressions in confusion. He could feel the hair on his neck stand on end as the tension in the room grew unbearable for him. “Can I know what we're doing, Vee?”

    Virgil glanced away from Patton, noticing Logan’s nervousness. He flashed Logan a reassuring smile and put a hand on Logan’s good shoulder. “After we leave here, L. Patton's just being overprotective. There’s nothing to worry about, okay?”

    “Okay, Vee.” Logan exhaled forcing himself to relax. “I trust you.”

    “Okay, fine. Let’s get started then. Come on, Lo!” Patton brightened and gestured overly enthusiastically for them to follow him to his hut. Logan smiled, appreciating Patton’s attempt to defuse the tension of the situation.

     Logan turned to follow him, flinching back as the guard behind Patton followed them toward the exit. He crossed his arms across his chest shrinking away from the armed man. A breath of relief escaped him as Virgil stepped between him and the guard, waving him away. The guard nodded an acknowledgement, moving away from them.

     Logan gasped with relief as Virgil wrapped an arm around him, leading him away. “T-thank you, Vee.”

     “Not a problem, L.” Virgil whispered, tightening his grip on Logan’s shoulder. “I want you to be comfortable.”

-

    Patton smiled at him. “Your wounds have closed properly, kiddo. I’m going to leave them be, but I'll give you a balm to keep them from drying out. You'll have to apply that a few times a day, but otherwise, just be careful not to overextend yourself.”

    “Will do, Pat.”

    Patton finished dressing Logan's face and started putting his things away. Logan buttoned his shirt and turned to Virgil.

    “What's next, Vee?”

    Virgil stood up and came around to stand by Logan, offering him a hand up. He pulled Logan to his feet. “Well, we take Patton back to the greenhouse. Then, we'll head up to my chambers.”

    “Why are we going to your place?” Logan pressed him, his curiosity growing.

    “I'll explain when we get there, L.” Virgil smiled reassuringly at him before pausing. “Patton, can you get away this afternoon?”

    Patton tilted his head in confusion. “I'd assume so. Why?”

    “I'd like to try and make it to the library to see if we can do anything about Logan's cursed amulet.”

    Patton’s face lit up in realization. “Oh, sure, Virge! I'll find a way to get away!”

    “Thanks, Pat. We'll come by and grab you some time this afternoon.” Virgil turned back to Logan. “Are you ready, L?”

    Logan nodded, warily.

    “Good, let's go.”

-

    Logan lengthened his stride to keep up with Virgil as they climbed the stairs of the northern tower of the castle. He'd never been down these particular halls. The shadows seemed darker than the rest of the castle and the halls were nearly empty as they neared the top of the tower. The quietness of the empty halls held an ominous aura that Logan couldn't quite shake. He couldn't help but be glad that Roman hadn't assigned his personal accommodations to this tower

    Moving quickly, Logan nearly plowed into Virgil as he stopped abruptly in front of him, glancing behind them. Virgil’s eyes flicked around nervously before he turned and unlocked the door next to them. He held it open for Logan, gesturing for him to enter and then followed him quickly into his room, shutting it resolutely behind them.

     Once inside, Virgil locked the door behind them. Logan couldn't help noticing the multiple locks and chains on the door lined up on the door. He watched Virgil set to work locking all of them. “Are you honestly that worried about someone breaking in?”

    Virgil turned, raising an eyebrow. “After all that's happened to you and Patton,  can you blame me?”

    “Those encounters happened recently, Virgil.” Logan gestured at the door skeptically. “Those locks appear to have been installed long before any issues with Patton and I would have occurred.”

    “In my line of work, it's best be safe. It's easy to make enemies and my room is not nearly as well guarded as Roman's.” Virgil shrugged. "This isn't the first time Roman and I have gotten on the wrong side of some bad people."

    “I suppose not." Logan thought about it for a minute, staring at the door, before looking up at Virgil again. He glanced around the room. Unlike his own, Virgil's seemed to only have the bare minimum. The walls were undecorated stone and the room only had a few pieces of old-looking furniture. "Okay then, Virgil, I do believe you owe me an explanation for why I'm here.”

    “Okay.” Virgil’s expression turned serious. “Just to be clear, you do not have to do this.”

    “You haven’t even revealed what we’re doing.” Logan crossed his arms, growing impatient.

    “You can't tell Roman or anyone else that I showed you this little trick. I'm not allowed to teach anyone this without permission from the king.” Virgil paused. “Not even Roman has the authority to allow me to teach you this.”

     Logan looked at him suspiciously. “Teach me what?”

     “I want to show you a few things, but today, I’m going to start with showing you how pick locks.” Virgil stared at him, gauging his reaction. “But you don't have to if you don't want to, L.”

     “You’ve piqued my interest, Vee.” Logan stared at Virgil, confused. “Why are you so concerned that this topic might distress me?”

    Virgil flashed a sympathetic glance at him before leaning down and reaching underneath the sofa. Tense, Logan watched as he pulled a black, leather case and move to set it on the table behind them. Virgil paused briefly before flipping it open to reveal dozens of locks. Logan swallowed, nervously crossing his arms and stepping back as he noticed several pairs of shackles and cuffs.

    Virgil watched Logan’s face carefully. “Judging by the state of your wrists, it seems Remus enjoys binding his captives. I think it would be best if you knew how to get out of them, L.”

    Logan was quiet, almost frozen in place.

    Virgil watched him carefully.  “You don't have to do th—”

    “No, Vee. You’re right.” His voice was strained, almost shaking as he stared, unblinking, down at the case. “I want to learn.”

    “Don’t worry, L.” Virgil stepped forward, gripping Logan’s shoulder. “We're not putting them on anytime soon. I have other locks for you to start with.”

    Logan nodded numbly.

    “I have a key to all of them.” Virgil reassured him. “You can back out at any time.”

    “I'm fine, Vee.” Logan muttered.

    “You don't seem fine.”

    “I am.” Logan brushed him off, stepping forward. “Where do we start?”

    Virgil dug around in the case and pulled out an old, brass lock. “We'll start simple and work up to more complicated locks. This one is good for getting used to manipulating the pins.”

     “Okay.” Logan nodded seriously.

    “I'll show you how to use my lock-picking kit first,” Virgil paused, reaching into his pocket. “but I've got some other less obvious items you could keep on you that work okay in a pinch.”

    Virgil pulled out a ring of long metal tools and began to demonstrated how to use them to move the pins to open the lock. Logan nodded along quietly. He tucked his hands behind his back as he listened intently to Virgil’s instructions, watching closely as he picked the lock. He finally blinked only as the lock popped open in Virgil’s hand.

    “Give it a shot.” Virgil said, clicking the lock shut and holding it out to Logan.

    Logan nodded. He took the lock from Virgil, sitting down at the desk. He fiddled with the tools clumsily. Gradually, he started to manipulate at pins in the lock.

    “That's good, L.” Virgil commented, leaning over his shoulder. “but slow down. Get used to feeling how the pins move.”

    Logan took a breath, focusing on moving the pins. He worked in silence for a few minutes until he heard a soft click of the lock popping open.

    “Good, L.” Virgil picked the lock up, clicking it shut again. He slid it across the table back to Logan. “Do it again. Faster.”

    Virgil made him pick the same lock half a dozen more times until he could do it in a matter of seconds before trading it out for another.

    They continued for this way for a while. Occasionally, Virgil changed out the locks or gave Logan different tools to work with. When Logan struggled, Virgil would demonstrate again until Logan was able to open the lock. As the hours passed, Logan’s movements became more confident. He nearly forgot to be worried as he focused on the task in front of him.

    After several hours, they’d worked through most of Virgil’s simple locks and had started into some of the more intricate locks.

    Virgil finally relaxed and leaned back on the couch behind him. “You're a natural, L. Before long, you'll be able to pick them all.”

    Logan leaned back, satisfied. Only a moment passed before his contentment turned to a frown. He reached over and picked up a pair of shackles that looked similar to ones he'd been bound with in his cell. “Maybe it's time to for a different challenge.”

    Virgil looked uncomfortable. “You've been going for a long time, L. You've got to be exhausted. Maybe we should come back to it tomorrow.”

     Logan pondered, feeling the metal in his hands. “Is this not the ideal time for me to practice? Should I find myself in that situation again, it is reasonable to assume my state of mind will be less than ideal.”

    Virgil thought about it for a moment. “It's a good time to practice but not necessarily a good time to learn, L. You should get used to the feelings before you try it exhausted.”

    “Just let me try, Vee.” Logan looked up at him, determined.

    Virgil bit his lip uncertainly and sighed, gesturing for Logan to follow him. “Fine. Come sit over here then. I want a better line of sight if you’re going to do this.”

    Logan followed him around the edge of the room and Virgil gestured for him to sit on one end of the couch. “Sit there and face me.”

    Logan complied. He sat across from Virgil, crossing his legs in front of him.

    Virgil looked at him sternly. “If this gets uncomfortable for you, we stop. Okay?”

     Logan nodded.

     “I need to hear you say it, L.” Virgil waited until Logan looked up at him and smiled patiently at him. “The last thing I want to do is trigger a panic attack.”

    Logan's shoulders slumped and his gaze slipped to the ground, despondent. “It didn’t trigger a panic attack at the Fae Crossing.”

    “You were in danger, L.” Virgil replied sternly. “Believe it or not, it's easier to let the panic take over somewhere that feels safe.”

    “That's irrational.” Logan didn't look up.

    “You have to process that fear at some point, but you can't do it while you’re in danger. Your brain waits until it's safe.”

    “I guess there’s a trace of logic to your statement.” Logan admitted quietly, staring at the shackles sitting on the cushions between them.

    “I still haven’t heard you say it, L.”

    Logan sighed and looked up at him. “If I’m uncomfortable, we will stop.”

    “Okay. Hold out your hands.”

    Logan held out his wrists and Virgil snapped the shackles on his wrists, locking them with the key. Virgil laid the key on the couch in between them within Logan’s reach. Logan's skin crawled at the familiar weight of his binds.

    “Okay, L. Keep your breath steady.” Virgil waited for Logan to meet his gaze. “Count if you need to. Inhale for four. Hold for seven. Exhale for eight. Just like we've done before.”

    Logan closed his eyes. He focused on his breath, ignoring the binds until he felt calm again. Logan nodded at Virgil.

    “Okay. Start with the cuff on your non-dominant hand. Your range of motion is limited so work with what gives you the most control.” Virgil watched him carefully. “It's a simple lock, but the angle makes difficult to keep your hands steady.

    Logan nodded and slipped the lockpick into the cuff on his right hand. He bent his wrist to start to manipulate the pins. He could feel the strain on his wrist to hold the tools in place.

    “I know it's not comfortable but be patient.” Virgil shifted to get a better sight line. “Rushing only makes it harder.”

     Logan breathed, trying to focus on the moving pins. His wrist started to burn from the unnatural positioning of his hand. He managed to get the first two pins before his hand started shaking from the effort.

    “Take a break, L.” Virgil scooted closer, putting his hand on Logan’s knee. “You'll get it.”

    Logan could feel frustration and anxiety start to build inside him. After only a moment, he tried again. This time, he only managed to get one pin before his hand cramped. He groaned and clenched his fist trying to stretch the muscles in his wrist.

    Virgil watched sadly as Logan winced in pain. He slowly reached over and took Logan’s right hand, gently massaging the muscles on Logan’s wrist until the cramp subsided. Logan clenched his jaw in frustration.

    “You’re doing fine, L.” Virgil smiled over at him. “You’re not used to using these muscles. Be gentle. We'll practice until they’re stronger.”

     Logan nodded and smiled back sadly.  He could feel his frustration start to dissipate. Virgil pulled his hand back, resting it on Logan’s knee again.

    Logan tried again. He made more progress on his second attempt. He managed to stretch his wrist a little further and get the first two pins with ease. The third pin fell into place as his wrist started to burn. He decided to give up before it cramped completely.

    Virgil smiled reassuringly. “Try the other one for a bit. You may not get out of them today but building those muscles gets you that much closer to doing it tomorrow.”

    Logan struggled with practicing the other arm for a while. He worked for several minutes and Virgil watched his progress closely. Logan focused intently but despite his effort, he made less progress on this wrist before he was forced to stop by a sudden cramping in his wrists.

    Virgil reached over and started to massage Logan's other wrist. “Be patient, L. You don't have to push yourself until your hand cramps up."

    “I want to get it.” Logan looked down at the shackles, defeated.

    “You will. I'll make sure of it.” Virgil grabbed the key off the couch and reached over to unlatch Logan’s binds. Logan didn't move as they came loose. Virgil dropped the shackles off the side of the couch, reaching over and resting his hands on Logan's knees. Logan looked up at him. The dark circles under Virgil’s eyes were suddenly more pronounced in the dim light. “Seriously, you got pretty damn close for your first attempt. It's not even lack of skill that's the problem. You just need a little more strength and flexibility to hold the tools steady.”

    “I guess.” Logan looked dejected, absentmindedly rubbing his wrists.

    “You're not going anywhere, L. You've got the time to learn.” Virgil watched Logan intensely.

    “This isn’t over, Vee. It's impossible to predict when they will make their next move. I don't know how long I have to learn.” He gritted his teeth.

    Virgil looked over at him, picking his head up from where it was resting in his hand. “They?”

    Logan’s head shot up, looking at Virgil with wide eyes. His eyes darted down to his neck, waiting for green sparks, but nothing came.

    “L,” Virgil looked at him seriously. “Was there someone other than Remus involved the other night?”

    Logan tore his gaze from Virgil, feeling the metal heat up around his neck. “I—”

    “Don’t answer. Your hesitation is enough for me to make assumptions.” Virgil watched Logan curiously as he sank back in his seat, relieved. He crossed his legs up on the couch, leaning forward and resting his chin in his hands. “That’s interesting, Logan. I didn’t think Remus was capable of playing nice with his anyone else, let alone letting them have a role in whatever he's planning.”

    Hanging his head, Logan stared down at his lap. He could feel the heat around his neck begin to dissipate slowly as he attempted to clear his mind. The heat had nearly gone completely when a thought entered his mind. Logan turned his head up to stare at Virgil, feeling the heat return to his neck.

     Virgil watched him curiously, noticing the sudden determination in his eyes. He leaned closer. “What?”

    “Virgil, I was never told I couldn’t talk about Remus.” Logan took a deep breath, trying to convince himself as Virgil that this didn't break the amulet’s rules.

     Virgil paused, confused. “Okay, but we know about Remus. I don’t see how that changes anything.”

     “It doesn’t.” Logan smirked confidently. “We are only discussing topics you already know about, Vee.”

    “Okay…” Virgil watched him carefully.

    “You know that Remus didn't hurt Patton,” Logan pointed to the bandages on his face. “and that he wouldn’t have caused me harm if I hadn't called out to you for assistance.”

    Virgil watched him quietly and nodded, still unsure of where Logan was going with this line of thought.

    “Now, you mentioned you found these behaviors to be atypical of Remus, given his treatment of me in the past.”

    “Yeah. I thought it was weird." Virgil stared at him blankly. “I don't know what you’re trying to tell me, L.”

    “I'm only reiterating ideas you had come to on your own.” Logan smiled knowingly. The metal around his neck was cool as he continued to speak. “What you infer about why Remus acted the way he did is entirely on you.”

    Virgil stared at him, quietly contemplating Logan's words. He was silent for a long time. Logan had begun to lose hope when Virgil finally spoke again. He looked up at Logan seriously. “Whoever he's working with kept Remus from hurting you. didn't they?”

    Logan bit his lip, keeping his face neutral despite his excitement. “I can’t say.”

    “So, yes.” Virgil shook his head, looking up at Logan. “I don't like the idea that someone’s giving direction to his destruction.”

    “I don't—” Logan nearly clamped down on his tongue as heat radiated off the amulet and it glowed with a bright green light. He tensed himself for impact. A single spark escaped the gem, burning into his skin. He groaned, relaxing only as the ember slowly abated.

    “Okay. We're done playing this game.” Virgil leaned forward. “Don't hurt yourself.”

    “I'm fine, Vee.” Logan muttered breathlessly, looking away. “It’s not that bad.”

    “You’re not a good judge of what is or isn't a normal level of pain, L.” Virgil scolded gently. “You need to stop.”

    “I—I can keep going.” Logan pleaded quietly. “It's important.”

    “You don’t need to, L.” Virgil leaned forward sympathetically. “This was good, but you don’t have to hurt yourself. We'll figure it out without torturing you for information.”

    “But what if we don’t, Vee?” Logan suddenly found himself unable to stop his fingernails digging into his skin as his arms crossed tighter across his chest. “What if we fail—” He glanced sadly up at Virgil. “—and I could have made a difference if I pushed myself a little further?”

    “We’re going to figure it out.”

    “You can't know that, Vee.”

    “You don’t that this will help either, L.” Virgil sighed. “It could do nothing but hurt you.”

    “I can take it,” Logan growled. “especially if it means all of you would be safe.”

    “You’re not hearing me, L.” Virgil smiled faintly at him. “I’m not going to let you hurt yourself. None of us are willing let you get hurt to save our own skin.”

    Logan looked down at his lap. “What we're doing, it has to be enough, Vee.”

    “It will be.”

    “You don’t have enough data to assert that conclusion.” Logan muttered quietly, biting his lip.

    “Fine.” Virgil sighed. “It either will be enough or it won’t. No amount of stress changes that. We’re spending all day making sure you’re ready if something happens and we're going to spend tonight trying to figure out how to get rid of that amulet around your neck.”

    “If I can develop these skills at a quick enough pace, I can increase the probability of success of foiling Remus and—” Logan hesitated, correcting himself. “—of foiling Remus' plan.”

    Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Driving yourself into the ground doesn’t do anyone any good.”

   “It has to be enough, Vee,” Logan muttered quietly and he was quiet for a long time before he looked up at Virgil. Virgil jolted upright as he noticed tears in Logan's eyes. “This has to be enough or this is the cruelest torture Remus has forced me to endure.”

    “Whoa, L.” Concerned, Virgil slid across the couch toward him, pulling Logan into his arms. “What does that mean?”

    Logan leaned in to Virgil’s warmth. “Allowing me to experience a life with you, Patton, and Roman, only to have him rip that away from me would be far crueler than anything he's done to me thus far.”

    “Come here.” Virgil turned and pulled Logan closer to him. Logan laid his head on Virgil’s shoulder, letting his muscles relax as Virgil ran his fingers through Logan’s hair. “You’re not going anywhere, L.”

    “You can't know th—”

    “Yes, I can. Roman, Patton and I are here to protect you and Remus doesn’t stand a chance against us.”

    “I’m sorry, Vee.” Logan was breathless, lost between his racing thoughts and Virgil’s light touch.

    “Stop apologizing, L.” Virgil said gently as he brushed Logan’s hair behind his ears. He looked down at him. “We don't want you to go anywhere. You know that, right?”

    Logan was quiet, almost like he was holding his breath.

    “This is your home Logan, and we'll fight to keep you here.” Virgil reached down to Logan’s shoulder, pulling his shoulder down so Logan was looking up at him. “You belong here with us, Logan.”

    Logan nodded up at Virgil, closing his eyes. His breathing became deeper and slower as Virgil’s fingers ran through his hair.

    “I belong here.” The words felt unfamiliar on Logan’s tongue but still, a smile formed on his face from how good it felt to say.

    Virgil smiled down at him, contented to see Logan let go of some of his fear.

    “L,  promise me you won’t run yourself into the ground.” Virgil looked down at him. “Promise me you’ll at least try to enjoy your life, even with everything going on.”

    Logan closed his eyes, feeling Virgil's fingers in his hair. “If you make the experience this pleasurable, I don’t think I'll have the will to fight you.”

    “I'll take that challenge, L.” Virgil smirked down at him.

    Logan smiled, letting himself relax again. “When are we supposed to meet Patton?”

    “Soon.” Virgil shrugged.

    “Should we go?” Logan blinked tiredly.

    “Are you ready to go?”

    “I can be, if necessary.”

    “We can stay here for a little longer, L.” Virgil smiled as Logan relaxed into his lap. “We'll head out in a bit, okay?”

    “Okay, Vee.” Logan closed his eyes. He leaned into the warmth radiating off Virgil’s body, breathing in time with Virgil’s breathe and, despite his best efforts, Logan found himself drifting off to sleep.

-

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[guigz1-coldwar]

'Moment of truth' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"Moment of truth"

Chapter Summary : While Yirina is having a stop with Park as they were on their way to London, she can finally have an answer......

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +4000

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I never thought that the day I will come back to West-Berlin that something will send me away from the place again and hopefully, it was an better place than Cuba. With Park, I had to go with her to meet an SAS soldier at Hereford in England that wanted to meet us to talk about Stone himself despite that before, all the ex-coworkers of Stone didn't want to talk about him and his services inside the organization and to be honest about it, I didn't expect at all that this particular soldier was the one who described Stone.....John Price Sr. .

He mainly talked to me about Stone as Park had to pick up an call from Woods and she wasn't so willing to know something that she already know about. I could see that she was still angry about importants details including the fact that Harry Stone is considered as an hero for the british people and despited by everyone who knows about his true identity & motives...that's mean every single counter-espionages organizations in the West. Everyone knows about him and even with that, there's nothing that they can do to ruin his 'good' reputation.

Price allowed me to discover more about who was Park's brother : William Elijah Park, a SAS soldier that was under the command of Price himself...killed by Stone, like Park said to me, in 1973 because William was given informations on Stone by someone from inside Perseus but also because of the rivalry Stone & William got after an accident in 1972....before Price gave me an picture of Park and her brother....an picture that I prefered to give her back before we left the place and by surprise, we're going back to London instead of taking the plane back to West-Berlin.

Park decided to take the wheels as we had at least 3 hours of driving from Hereford to arrive in London and during 1 hour and 30 minutes, we didn't talk too much except to know if the other was well as we were both in our respectives thoughts : she was maybe still trying to get over the fact that she was given an picture she never saw and me....I was still asking myself questions about Portnova's status but also about Zasha's one.

"Someone is tired, I seen." I said as I just saw Park yawning, putting her right hand in front of her mouth, the other hand still on the steering wheel while driving on the road.

"Yeah....I didn't sleep so much last night." She defended herself, sounding very low as she put her hand back on the steering wheel. "I had some troubles to get to sleep properly." She added, getting her eyes focused back on the road.

"You think that you can handle the rest of the drive or you want me to do it ?" I asked to her as I could see her narrowing her eyes, getting too tired.

"Do you know where's the road to London ?" She asked me back in a curious tone, redressing myself on my seat.

"Of course, follow the road signs and if the numbers get low, we're in the good direction." I exclaimed, looking outside, seeing one of the road signs saying that we were getting soon to Oxford.....before I yawned too.

"You still sure to drive ?" She raised an eyebrow to me, giving me a litle glare.

"Guess that we have to stop somewhere then." I proposed as it was the only thing to do now and she nodded, looking at the road signs.

"We're near Oxford." She whispered before looking at me briefly. "I know a place near the city where we could have a normal sleep."

"You seems to know everything around here." I scoffed about that and she looked at me with her left eye that could see 'did you really said this ?'

"Yirina, I used to study at Oxford !" She said, proud of it before smiling at me. "Of course, I know the place well." She added as she started to drive with the car, leaving the highway we were on, apparently, getting to an small town near Oxford called Farmoor.

"What's this place ?" I asked as we were arriving five minutes after we left the highway, seeing an sort of big lake on my left through the car window.

"Farmoor Reservoir." She replied before she, with the car, entered a very small parking with an big view on the lake, it was just us and no one else. "Sometimes, during my studies back in the old days, I used to hang out in there." She then stopped the car engine.

"You want us to sleep in here ?" I questioned her, looking around as I was very curious to sleep in that type of place in the middle of nowhere.

"Why not ?" She said back before I sniffed in approval to her, admiring the place around.

"Looks very charming in here." I exclaimed, looking back at her, who started to remove her jacket to put above her chest as I do the same too....some sort of blanket for ourselves. "Okay, can I ask you something ?"

"Yes ?" She breathed, looking at me.

"Tell me something that even me....I don't know about you." It was something little that I wanted to ask to her, looking at her very curiously. "Anything." She laughed at me gently before looking outside, thinkful.

"When I was an kid, I used to have an pony, doing horse riding." She said like that, making my eyes go wide about it. "It was something that I liked to do for an long time until I stopped when I entered the Oxford University." She looked at me, biting an part of her lips to me, wondering what was my reaction and frankly, I never thought that she had something like that.

"Wow, that's cool." I whispered as I could see that she wanted now to know something about me too. "You want to know something too ?" She nodded, causing me to search through my memories I have relived in my head. "Okay." I took a deep breath, having found something I had relived the second day we were in West Germany, looking at my left hand, especially the burned mark I had. "I did my coming out to Perseus as he tried to find me an 'good husband'....literally on his face."

"Really ?" Park had her hand on her face, her arm put against the seat to look at me.

"Yeah, I could still remember his jaw dropped when I told him that, he left my office right away." I laughed before I looked away, feeling suddenly sad. "He never really approved of it and said that he will heal me....guess that didn't work." I laughed again, trying to break the sad mood at the end.

"You do as you want to do, Yiri." Park affirmed, putting her hand on my shoulder, making me smile. "We don't give an fuck if people said that it's not something to do, we need to stay proud of our own status."  She got closer to me, getting our foreheads against each other "And I know that I'm proud of you." She pulled me for an kiss.

"I love you, Park." I whispered, taking some air before getting back into the kiss, reinforcing it with my hands before I broke the kiss again. "I think that we should sleep now."

"Yeah, you're right." We withdrawed from each other as we both getting comfy in our seats, looking at each other. "Good night, Yiri."

"Good night, Park." I whispered as I finally found closing my eyes, seeing Park also closing hers too slowly, feeling my body getting to sleep....this place was very nice to see....it was like an night under the stars of England....

I opened my eyes again finding myself into an stopped car in the front passenger seat and by looking outside the car.....it was the Spandau Prison in West-Berlin, the car was parked in the parking's prison....the day I have maybe helped Zasha escape from it....finally....after all these times, I can see it. At the driving seat, there was Dietrich, tapping nervously on the steering wheel, awaiting for something to happen or someone to come. We were both dressed with casual clothes....more like MI6 agents to say.

My feet was trembling about what was going to happen maybe in a few minutes before I took something out of my pocket : a fake MI6 credentials with an false name on it : Julie McKnight as Dietrich got one out too : he was named 'Daniel Folson.' . It was just the two of us in the car and like the plan told, we had to infiltrate ourselves in the prison and get Zasha out and MY plan was to get Zasha out alive from the the city before Perseus can do a thing about.

"You speak well the british accent, Grigoriev ?" Dietrich asked me, turning around to look at me as my eyes was on my fake credentials.

"Why're you asking ?" I started, confused. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't....because you can't speak the accent, I presume ?" I asked back to him who looked away.

"Pfff....of course, I can talk like those tea drinkers." He affirmed as I redressed myself on my seat, my back against the door

"Really ? Show me then." I looked at him seriously, awaiting for him to speak with the british accent before he snorted away, seeing me as ridiculous.

"We don't have time for this." He exclaimed, almost sounding angry as he continued to tap nervously with his hands on the wheel. "And accent or not, it's not an problem."

"Think what you think, Dietrich." I whispered, looking at the prison front door.

"You have an problem ?" He asked me and I looked at him, seriously again.

"Yeah, with people like you." I poked at him before someone suddenly appear at Dietrich window. It was an british guard, probably the one that was associated to Perseus who start to knock at the window to get Dietrich attention as he open the door.

"You're the two that need to get Krypto out ?" The guard asked us and we nodded with me keeping an straight face to the two.

"Can you tell us about the plan ?" Dietrich questioned him, curious.

"First and before getting to the room where Krypto is detained, we had to put an explosive charge in the boiler room for an distraction in case of something bad." The guard replied, looking around him in case someone was watching us. "I'm going to lead you there before I let you alone to get to Krypto and then, you're out of here with them."

"Fine, let's do this." Dietrich looked at me with an neutral face as we prepared our credentials to strap them on our jackets before taking some stolen silenced M1911 with us under the jacket, me removing the silencer and putting it away, knowing that the risk of getting frisked is high....a risk that Dietrich doesn't seem to acknowledge. "It's gonna be an breaking day."

We got out of the car like if it was normal as the guard was awaiting for us from away, not breaking our cover. I took a deep breath as we started to walk to get to the front door of the administrative building of the prison, exactly where Zasha was detained. The guard faked to greet us for the first time before we entered the building, acting like perfect MI6 agents and then, first problem that was obligated to have : a checkpoint that we have to pass with guards frisking everyone.

Even with our MI6 credentials, we have to get ourselves frisked by the guards and to faciliate their task, I removed my own M1911 on the counter of the guards security post before getting frisked by another guard. Dietrich was looking nervous as he removed his silenced gun and put it on the same counter, making the guards look at him suspiciously.

"Silenced gun ?" The guard behind the counter asked, looking at the gun and back at him as we,me & Dietrich were both frisked. "Any reasons why ?"

"Can't explain, I must have forget to remove it from the last operation we just had." Dietrich replied, sounding stressed in his voice.

"Don't worry, he's just an dumbass." I faked an laugh to the guard behind the counter who laughed back at Dietrich, he was looking almost angered but forced to smile.

"Good one !" The guard behind the counter pointed at me, laughing before getting serious again. "You can go, your guns will stay here until you leave the place." The other guards finished to frisk, letting us free to pass, without our guns as the Perseus guard gestured us to follow him to the boiler room that was at a few hallways from the room where Zasha was. Once we entered far enough in the boiler room, I could see the angered face of Dietrich.

"You must be stupid to do this, Grigoriev." He poked at me, still angry about what I did as we arrived just next to the place we wanted to put the charges.

"You are the stupid one." I called him back as we were almost caught by his fault. "You didn't remove your silencer from your gun."

"Okay, kids." The Perseus guard put himself between me & Dietrich "We have things to do than breaking each others necks about something that you just passed." He then looked at us as we were getting our temper down. "Good ?" We nodded.

"Let me place the charge then." Dietrich started to move away from me as the guard showed him where he has hidden the explosives as me....I was thinking of something, I needed to dispose of these guys.

Who's saying that they could try to act immediately after we got to Zasha as the guard was the only one armed and he could give his gun to Dietrich to do the job. So, I had to neutralize those guys and better, kill them here now ! I looked behind me at the entrance of the boiler room that was closed before looking back at the two, trying to set the charge up with the guard up and Dietrich almost sit. I took a deep breath, viewing the situation and then, it was time for me to act against them.

I approached the guard from behind and in an second, I grabbed him, putting my arms around his neck, causing him to fall back before I brutally break his neck in half, killing him instantly as Dietrich started to react. As I stepped back to avoid an punch that he tried to give, he managed to get his hands on the dead guard baton, now trying to give me strikes with it but I was avoiding each one of them, making them land on the walls or on the boiler machines.

Finally, I was able to grab his right arm where he was using the baton before I nudged it with all my might, breaking his arm and causing him to scream silently. I then managed to grab him by the collar and to throw him on a table that was near by, his head not on it.

"You traitor !" He spoke up, almost loudly as I was still holding him by his neck "You betrayed Perseus."

"Did I ?" I asked him. "I wasn't going to let him kill my friend."

"All of this....for Krypto !" He whispered to himself, trying to look away from me.

"For the last fucking time...." I started, getting myself ready to put him out of his misery, my head closer to him. "Their name is Zasha Smirnov !" I then used my right feet to strike him on his face, causing to break his neck more harder than the guard.

I removed my hands from him now that I just killed without remorse two Perseus agent in the middle of an western-controlled prison. I took again an breath, leaving the bodies in here as I started to walk away from the room, just alone. I stepped out of it, now going into the direction of the room where Zasha was detained in here. No one in here was getting suspicious of me, not even wondering where was the second MI6 agent that was with me.

I arrived near the room where Zasha was that was watched by two guards and the two stepped away when I showed them my credentials, apparently acknowledging that the MI6 wanted to be talk with. They opened the door, revealing Zasha themselves, not hurt at all and handcuffed on a chair.

"Yir....." They started as I entered the room before I put my index finger in front of my mouth, gesturing them to stop.

"Julie McKnight, MI6." I showed them my credentials, knowning that I was acting now and they nodded in approval. "We heard that you wanted to talk to us ?" They nodded again. "Guards." I called them as the door was still open.

"Yes, miss ?" One of the guards said, looking at me.

"Can you please detach them from their handcuffs ?" I asked the guard. "They are needed to be interrogate somewhere else."

"Understood." The guard replied as he started to move to get next to Zasha, taking the keys from his belt to detach Zasha from their handcuffs.

"What's your name ?" I fainted to ask to Zasha.

"Hmm...Smirnov, miss McKnight." They responded in a worried voice, fake one too as they were finally free.

"Good, stay next to me then." I ordered them as I moved next to them before walking away together from the room, the guard following us behind and taking back his post. "Don't stress, Zed." I whispered to them once we were no longer in the same hallway as the guards and they nodded again.

We arrived in the checkpoint again, the guard giving me back my gun, wondering why my 'colleague' wasn't here for me and I had to explain that he lost his way to get to the toilets, making the guard laugh again before he finally let us free to go outside with Zasha at my side, keeping an eye on them as we stepped out outside to get back to the car I used with Dietrich. I installed myself inside the car at the driver seat as Zasha got next to me but I wasn't starting the engine, looking mixed.

"Zed." I started, looking at them. "Do you realize where did you put yourself to ?" I asked, keeping my cool as I put my hands on the steering wheels

"Listen, I'm sorry, okay ?" They were confused at their own actions, looking at me.

"What's got into you ? You literally left me, Portnova & even Beans behind." I exclaimed, slowly raising my voice. "I know that Dedov was maybe sick but you could have wait one more day !"

"I know, it's just.....the stress....the scare I got since Dede left." They proclaimed at me, losing their words in the process.

"You got lucky that it was me that was behind that door and not Stitch." I said as I looked outside to see an car arriving in the parking. "Perseus called me from your apartment, knowing that I will come to your place to see how've been doing....Portnova was there too when he told me what you have done."

"I'm sorry." They repeated in a sad voice as I was holding back my own tears from my face, not wanting to get angry against Zasha. "Yirina, I'm sorry." I could feel their hands on my shoulder as I was still looking outside, seeing the two persons from that car getting out .....Park....Garrett....they were there that day......

"Zed, don't do this thing again." I pleaded to them, putting my hand on their shoulder. "Let's get out of here before we got problems." I then finally started the car's engine and drove off just before the alarm was getting heard from the street, with us getting away.

I thought it was the end of it but there were something wrong in that memory.....something that was just going to happen soon.....I was still driving with Zasha to get to a safe place out of the city before I looked in the mirror, seeing an suspicious van that has been following us since we have left the prison.

"Shit, we're been followed." I exclaimed, my eyes back on the road after checking the mirror.

"Why are we followed ?" Zasha asked, worried.

"Zed.....Perseus never wanted you to stay alive, he wanted to kill you at the moment we were going to transfer you back to Russia." I replied in a low voice. "I killed two Perseus agent in that prison and they surely want to know why it's only me & you in that car."

"But....you have something planned for that, right ?" They tried to not look behind the car as I was making some quick glares to the mirror, I shook my head,

"Listen, you need to stay focused and act like if you don't know." I ordered them as, with the car, I entered an sort of wasteland just outside of the city to park the car. "Trust me, Zasha." I added before I stopped the car, taking a deep breath as I saw the van enter the wasteland as well. "Stay here." I ordered them again before I stepped out of the car. I could see Hans, getting out of the van with two armed men, accompanying him.

"Grigoriev !" Hans almost shouted. "Where's Dietrich ?"

"He got himself arrested after he tried to break into an office." I replied, lying to him as I prepared my hands on my waist, ready. "Guy wasn't an genius after all."

"Don't talk about him like that." He exclaimed before looking behind me, seeing Zasha in the car. "Hey, Kryto, get your fucking ass....." He wanted to continue but in me, I felt the rage to still hear that name and then, I acted now, drawing the M1911 I was using to shoot 2 bullets in each guy behind Hans before shooting the last 3 remaining bullets in Hans, wounding him critically, hitting him in the shoulders and the chest.

"Zed !" I moved my head, keeping an eye on the van in case someone was hidden before I realized that it was just Hans and the guy I just shot down that were here. "You can come out." I suggested and the door opened as I removed my gun back into my jacket.

"You killed them.....like you did to those guys in Ukraine." They expressed, referring to another event like this.

"I had no choice, those people only deserved death." I looked back at Zasha, looking almost relieved to have done this. "Listen, I need to go back to Russia to get Portnova & Beans out." I added as I handed them the car keys. "Since Perseus will think that you're dead, you're free now."

"You remember where we are needing to join together in London ?" I nodded to them....but I couldn't know it right now. "Yirina, there's something that I want you to give to Portnova." They put their hands in their pocket, revealing an letter......the same letter that I retrieved in my old box back to Belikov place an month ago..... "Can you give this to her ?"

"I'll try my best to do it." I whispered before I took the letter in hand, putting it into my pocket as I heard Hans groaning. "Just die for fuck sake !" I yelled to him as I moved to grab one of the dead guy gun to shoot all of its mag on Hans wounded body, killing him.

"Yirina." I could hear Zasha's voice behind me, putting their hand on my shoulder. "Please, come back with my Yiri....come back for me and Dedov." They added before they decided to kiss me on the left cheek, making me grin a little about it.

"Zed..." I breathed before I do the same : kissing them on their cheek too and then, I put my arms around them to hug them, wanting them to feel secured and alive to have been saved by me, I just wanted their safety "Please, live your life and be free." I added with an smile before I let them walk to the driver's door of the car, seeing an smile on their face as they opened the door of the car.....

"Yirina, we're going to do this....we're going to bring Perseus down !"

[silver-wield]

Found a few more ficlets I thought I posted, but apparently didn't, unless tumblr ate them.

The biting cold wasn't much better inside the cave than out climbing the cliff face. The glacier was a hard task for the most experienced climbers and, Cloud and his friends weren't even close to that. So far, they owed a lot of their progress to luck, trust and teamwork. The flags left by former climbers, along with the odd frozen corpse warning them of what could happen if they lagged or lost faith.

It was hard on everyone. Aerith promised everything would be all right before she walked into the light, but mysterious words and a vague reassuring smile only took them so far. They needed something more to carry them the rest of the way to Sephiroth's hiding place.

"Aiya, why is it so cold!? Where's the fire materia!? Who's got it!? Hand it over!" Yuffie's complaining echoed through the cave, causing giant stalactites to tremor.

"Shh!" Barret put a finger to his lips, raising his eyes upward.

"Did you just shush me!?" Yuffie stomped her foot.

"Shut yer pie hole, Lassie. We don't wanna die."

"You're a robot, what you worried about?" Yuffie stuck her tongue out at Cait Sith.

"Yuffie, please," Tifa murmured, frowning. "We don't want to make things more unstable than they already are." She pointed up.

Yuffie pulled a sheepish expression. "Oops," she whispered.

"Oops," Vincent echoed in a bland voice.

Cloud hid a smile and looked around. "Could probably cut through that pathway over there," he said, nodding towards a snaking path that weaved upwards. It looked treacherous and slippery. They'd have to literally cut into the ground to give them something to grip onto.

"And just how d'you propose we keep our feet from going ass over head?" Cid questioned, pausing to blow on his gloved hands. "We ain't wearing skates."

Cloud frowned. "We'll cut a path," he explained, right hand moving to the hilt of his sword.

"Sounds risky to me," Barret replied. "If a loud noise makes those wobble like a bowl full o' jello, then what's hacking the ground gonna do?"

Cloud’s eyes narrowed, he wanted to get moving, not stand around talking. "You think a giant icicle'll get the best of me?" No way.

Tifa stepped forward as Barret opened his mouth to protest further. "How about we use the right tools?" She held up a hooked wall hammer and smiled.

Cloud ducked his head and smiled. "Right. The right tools for the right job." He'd been too hasty for no reason. He held his hand out for it.

Tifa tilted her head to the side and walked past him. "If we're worried about disturbing the area then someone lighter should go."

A dart of panic hit him in the chest. Familiar words, a similar situation. Wasn't it? "Maybe Red should look for a safer path."

"Hmm?" Red XIII stepped forward, flame on his tail flickering and casting a glow against the cave walls.

"Huh? Now we're not in a rush?" Yuffie looked from Cloud to Tifa.

"No, we are." Tifa shook her head. "Let's get this done quick." She shot everyone a reassuring smile and stepped forward.

"Tifa-" Cloud bit back his protests. "Be careful."

Tifa nodded. "No probs."

~*~*~

The first few strikes to break up the glassy surface went well. Tifa paused after each one, waited for the ominous shaking overhead to still, then struck again.

As a back up, Cloud still sent Red, Cait Sith and Vincent along another path to see if it looped around to where they needed to go.

"Slow and steady, T, you got this!"

Yuffie's quiet cheerleading set Cloud's teeth on edge. He opened his mouth several times to tell her to shut up, then stopped. She wasn't hurting anyone and was in fact helping keep Tifa motivated. His muscles still clenched like he was the one doing the job. The urge to hover and watch her back was strong. He knew she could handle herself and the danger was minimal.

"There." Tifa sat back and wiped her brow. "I think that's enough." She turned and gave everyone a thumbs up.

"Good job, girl," Barret said, nodding. He slapped Cloud on the back. "See? Ain't nothing to worry about." He followed up with a victory fanfare.

Cloud's eyes widened. He was already moving as the echoing crack died down. "Watch out!"

Tifa's eyes widened and she looked up as though in slow motion.

Snatching her by the hand, Cloud pulled Tifa out of the way as a giant icicle crashed into the ground where she'd been standing. "You okay!?"

"Shit, Tifa!" Barret took a step forward, then stopped. "Oh shit!"

The ground crumbled.

Everyone leapt towards the walls as a hole opened up.

"Whose dumbass idea was this!?" Cid dug his spear into a wall and grabbed Yuffie's wrist, as Barret leapt to a ledge and clung one handed.

Cloud and Tifa backed up towards the pathway. "Damnit."

"Is everyone all right?" Tifa let go of Cloud's hand and took a step forward. Her foot slipped and she gasped.

"Tifa!" Cloud dove for her as she slid towards the edge of the hole. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he spun them around and drew his sword.

"Cloud! Tifa!" Yuffie stretched a hand towards them as they fell.

"Shit! Toss 'em a goddamn line!" Cid fumbled for the rope attached to his waist.

Cloud slammed his sword into the wall and it cut into the icy surface, slowing their descent. He grunted with effort and felt his grip slip. The buster sword looked dingy reflected in the glacier. The blade hadn't dug in enough. It was sliding. It groaned with effort along with Cloud.

"I can't reach!" Tifa clung to him with one arm and stretched as Cid threw the end of the rope. As she swung out she lost her grip. "Cloud!"

"No!" Cloud let go of the sword and dropped.

~*~*~

Everything hurt, but something warm and soft brushed against his face. Cloud grimaced and opened his eyes. "Tifa?" She looked upset.

"Oh, Cloud." She looked ready to cry. The tight hug took him by surprise.

"What's wrong?"

"You're bleeding...and...you were mumbling."

What did I say? He put his hand to his head and drew it back. His vision blurred. Blood? Just like-? Pain lanced his skull.

"Cloud?" Tifa drew back and looked at him with concern. "What can I do?"

The soft look in her eyes calmed the ache. Words slipped past his lips without being filtered. "Stop falling."

"Huh?" She tipped her head to the side.

He pulled her back into his embrace and repeated the statement. "Stop falling." It hurt too much. He couldn't bear to see it. Not if he couldn't catch her. Still not good enough.

"Sorry. I'll try not to worry you so much."

Her arms around his shoulders felt nice. As did the soft puff of her breath near his ear that disturbed his hair. He could stay like this forever with Tifa beside him. Cloud closed his eyes and breathed deep. "Tifa-"

The sound of grit and ice particles sent him into hyper awareness. His eyes shot open and he was rising to meet the potential threat, pushing Tifa behind him with one hand and reaching for his sword with the other. His hand gripped air. "Shit." The buster sword was lodged somewhere high out of reach. He'd lost it. I was supposed to look after it. Another pain in his head had him gasping in pain.

"You're still alive, then." Vincent landed in front of them and the buster sword hit the ground soon after. "This yours?"

"Yeah." His answer didn't sound sure to his ears, but he shoo his head and dismissed it.

"You're bleeding."

"Yeah." He dug in his pocket for a potion.

Tifa picked up his sword and held it out. "Cloud, maybe we should find a weaponsmith soon?"

He frowned and shook his head. "It's fine." Looking around, he tried to get his bearings. "How'd you find us, and where are Cait Sith and Red?"

"We split up. They're helping the others."

He nodded. "Guess we should find a route." His gaze went to Tifa and his brows rose. "Something wrong?"

She didn't react, the slowly shook her head. "No, it's fine." As she walked past him towards a path Vincent uncovered, Cloud couldn't help but wonder if those words sounded as fake as when he said them.

[what-does-one-affects-the-other]

What's your opinion on this robot harry?For me it's so annoying he can't even pretend to be excited for his own tour, his social media presence is such a turn off

Well I’m sort of digging myself a grave with this one, but since I haven’t seen a post I can fully agree with, here we go. Disclaimer, I actually study this at uni. I was the Social Media Manager for the planning and putting together of a fashion show, on all platforms. I just handed in last month a 6-months marketing plan that was based around social media promo. So I do have a bit of knowledge in this area. I am by no means an expert, but this is my future field of choice, so I like to think I’m at least educated.

The situation isn’t as black and white as people have put it so far. All I’ve seen is “he’s horrible at engaging with fans” and “he doesn’t own you shit so stop complaining”. The answer is a very big grey area in which Harry’s actual social media presence fits perfectly in my opinion. First of all, there’s two main templates we studied for marketing purposes this year, Gaynor Lea Greenwood’s promotion suggestions (2009) and Burcher (2013)’s Paid, Owned and Earned media concept. Long story short, the first one is your traditional marketing campaign and the second one relies more on social media and advertising on it. Now, I think Harry’s team went for the more traditional approach, and let me explain why.

Harry started distancing himself more and more from twitter and Instagram ever since the hiatus started.Even before, during OTRA and MITAM promo, most of his tweets were promo stuff, lyrics I’m not sure we fully understand even now, charity work, promoting friends or tweeting about holidays/important days or events. His fan interaction has been low for quite a while, and I’m honestly baffled people are acting like this is news. Looking through his Twitter in 2015, there are some tweets to fans, yes, but they’re very sparse.I counted about 12 in 5 months, most of them in September, when Perfect came out, and around the release of MITAM.His tweets were mostly thanks to fans for various awards and nominalisation, promoting the songs/album, some lyrics and, without fail, after every concert he tweeted a thank you for coming.

It felt more personal than what we have now (tho in all honesty, his tour hasn’t started yet and if we eliminate the OTRA tweets it’s already a different story), but Robot Harry has been a thing then, and people were riding along with it instead of condemning it to the extent they do now.But, the thing is, Harry didn’t have the entire burden of engaging with the fanbase like he has now.Louis, Niall and Liam always took turns in taking the lead in replying to fans and interacting with them, which allowed Harry to do his part and everyone was mostly happy.

And yet, I personally don’t feel this frustration many people feel. I think it’s quite interesting actually. A bold move that wouldn’t work for other artist whose career relies on people who live and breathe social media (maybe Beyonce or Adele, but they are in another league). I was very intrigued by Harry’s statement in the Behind the album video, in which he said that there was a time in his life when people knew everything about him, and he didn’t like it.He has been overexposed since 2012, his personal life splashed across tabloids, fake relationship or not.And now he disappeared for a year (and has been retreating into himself for at least 2) and he wrote this mysterious™ album, trying to see if people can listen and understand it without knowing much about the current him. In this context, having an album that surrounds itself in mystery and then doing 4 Q&As on twitter and 3 livestreams sends…extremely contradictory messages. I can, and will fault his team for presenting a dual image of Harry that sometimes makes 0 sense, for handling a lot of things so poorly, and for the entire Carolina mess, but I will say that his social media fits this old school mysterious rockstar image they’re showing of him. I also think his actual reason is very personal and very real, and I respect the fact that he didn’t compromise this choice he made for promo purposes.

His promo relied on more traditional channels. TV and radio appearances, print magazines, and most importantly, the secret gigs. Now, I’m sorry, but I felt entirely more connected to Harry running across London at 8AM in my pyjamas than by any twitter spree he’ll ever do. I never did this before. This reminded me of the stories my dad told me, of queuing up for days in front of the box office so he’d get the tickets when they went on sale. It was very old school and it worked for me. It was a phenomenal experience, something I will never forget. And he did this for us. All profits went to charity, he didn’t do this for money. And while I know this was for a few selected cities and a handful of lucky fans, it was intimate and it was special and I think everyone, regardless if they were there, or vicariously living through pics and videos, felt a connection to Harry. We got emotional on his behalf when he sang with his idol on stage 2 weeks later, you don’t do that for someone you have no connection to.

Now, the actual reason I’m happy with what we’ve got is that it is genuine from my POV. Liam is the perfect candidate for a comparison, since he also took a bit of a break from social media (not as heavy as Harry’s, but he definitely wasn’t as active as Louis or Niall) and his promo is as textbook as it gets. He slowly, but surely increased his activity since January, a few more tweets, a few more pics on Instagram.A big turning point was April when he posted 13 pics on Instagram, compared to 8 in March, 4 in February and 3 in January. His Twitter went through a similar process.Now, the moment he started posting more, I knew his music was gonna be out soon. It’s pure marketing. You start your campaign weeks before the actual launch, it’s only natural. Unless you want to drop it as a surprise, but that’s another discussion. Actually Harry did it too, with the TV ad, but that was ruined by the info getting leaked beforehand and everyone getting pissed off by that so whatevs. Now, Liam is going for the approachable celeb route. Streams, Instagram stories, snapchat, tweeting fans, loads of pics, videos with popular Youtubers. It’s nice and about as well handled as it gets (apart from that weird video release earlier than it should have been and Liam just generally being a bit…odd?off?idk how to explain it, but a lot of people feel the same way from what I’ve seen). It fits with the image Liam is going for, it aims at the right target audience. He’s not trying to enter a new market like Harry is. He’s consolidating his place in the current market from what I’ve seen (and I’ll admit I haven’t followed his promo as closely as Harry’s). Trying to imagine Harry doing this sort of promo doesn’t really work for me.

Niall has been present on and off social media ever since he came back from his trip last year. Literally, if I pull up the calendars people have been making each month, he doesn’t get more than a handful of days without doing something, so it’s unfair to compare him to the others, since he’s always around and posting and doing stuff.

Louis deserves a better team and I won’t have anyone uttering anything else in my presence, and yet somehow, despite Niall’s constant presence and Liam’s textbook engagement, I’ll never feel as connected to them as I feel to Louis. Louis’ tweets are the perfect mixture of absolutely adorable fan service (“our year” 😭😭) and some of the things he’s passionate about (tv shows, fashion, footie/sports). His promo for JHO was….I have no words for it and I’m gonna have a rage fit if I start thinking about it, but his overall persona is charming and endearing when he’s posting things himself. He created a real communication channel between us and him and he knows how to use it when he needs to send a message (warning selfies anyone?Only you?). There’s an actual analysis of Instagram stats that shows he’s the number 1 male account in engagement and overall likes and that doesn’t surprise me one bit. Louis is a smart businessman, he has a loyal fanbase who is here for him through thick and thin.

And on top of everything I said so far, none of them owe us anything outside the promo bubble. Apart from shoots, songs/albums/tours info and official announcements, they do not owe us anything. If they chose to share a picture from their home, that’s their personal space, and while it’s good for PR, amazingly good in a society that thrives from the feeling of knowing everything about everyone (like what’s your fave’s breakfast and how’s their cat is doing), it’s still a part they can choose to keep private and no one should be entitled to ask for more.

Have you seen Adele’s Instagram? It gives you this illusion of closeness to her, with make up free selfies, funny poses and landscape shots. Too bad literally everything is from touring and other official appearances right? There’s one picture of her home, and that’s to celebrate the end of the tour. Harry sort of did the same with the booklet pictures. He allowed you into his personal space in a controlled manner, just like Adele did. Only he did it in a different way. His promo is just different and you have to think a bit outside the box to see that he actually did a lot of things other artists do. Just a bit differently. Was it perfect?Fuck, no. Was it as bad as many people make it look like?Personally, I don’t think so. It was just different and people are entirely justified to see it as a good or a bad thing. I see it mostly as a good thing. Mostly.

[sending-the-message]

Krokodil by Ra1n_Walker

Yeah…. I'm a drug addict. Not in the stereotypical way though. I get a high from being wasted. Not on any particular drug, I'll just indulge in whatever's available and make sure I end up wasted enough that I don't have to live every single aspect of life that challenges and bothers me. "I won't end up in the gutter being a heroin addict, I won't fall in debt because I go nuts on cocaine, nor will I ever acknowledge the fact that it's all killing me". That's what I told myself, but I do all of them, which ever one of them is at hands.

"You shouldn't. You can't…."

Well boo fucking hoo.

They all tried. Mom. Dad. Brother. Other brother. Even both of my sisters, but I just couldn't care less seeing as I had to have my daily needs met with herbs, white powder, pills or seringes.

I'll let you into my life and everything that happened as it gradually went from bad to worse. And, first of all, fuck you. This is my account and I'm sharing it for all those poor souls who haven't heard of it yet. Krokodil. If you have a problem with this, or if you think judging me is going to be a life changing matter, you're wrong. I am way too far gone and I'm mustering every piece of lucidity that's left within me to write this down and get my story out. Little heads up: if you're faint of heart, you might want to pick another story, because this one is true and so are the horrors I have lived.

I guess I have to go back a few years to get to the origin of the story of what is now my life, or what's left of it. About twelve years ago (I'm 28 now), I was a mess. Like, pushing away everyone including my family and friends and becoming more solitary every day. I wasn't the cool kid in school, rather the punching bag used by the previously mentioned. The center of mockery, the object of laughter and ridiculisation. Young, alone and desperate, I turned to narcotics, even after saying I would never ever do drugs. As a kid, it scared me and as an adolescent, I thought of it as bad and dangerous. Which it is, but it's also bliss and a guilty pleasure you should stay away from.

At 16, I'd already tried weed and mdma. I live in Belgium and our marihuana policy is a grey area, which means finding it is incredibly easy. I had my dealer, who I saw every other day to buy myself a fifty - that's 50 euros for a good 6,5 grams of pure Amnesia - aaaaand I'd smoke all of it in just over a day. Sometimes more, more often less as time progressed and my habit became so much more unhealthy. I'd tried the mdma as a recreational thing, my ganja dealer told me about it and assured me it was worth the try. So I did it, liked it, and never went back to it. Weed though... I know you can't really get physically addicted to cannabis, but I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't mind going a day without. You wonder how I got the money… no clue. I couldn't afford a lot of food or a roof over my head, but there was always a way to acquire drugs.

I couldn't handle myself sober anymore and by the time I was an adult, having reached my 18th birthday, I was used to cocaine, xtc, speed and a whole lot of psychiatrists to accompany the lifestyle that was slowly murdering me. Diagnosed bipolar, severely depressed and often tormented by suicidal tendancies, you all know what followed. I was 20 when I started injecting heroin.

I ran away from home on multiple occasions and always caused enough trouble in the meantime to make sure my parents would slowly start hating me. Don't think they were bad parents or anything, it's just that I had become a professional delinquent and the walls of prison cells were becoming a little too familiar. So one day I came back home like a mutilated reject of society and was lucky enough that mom and dad still saw me as their son. A monster with no joy in life and an insatiable desire to be wasted the fuck out of this world, but still their son. I was brought to my parent's house by two police officers who'd found me in a parking lot after someone called them over.

"There's another weirdo with seringes in front of my shop."

That's what they were told, so they responded and found me, brought me in and let me 'sleep it off' in jail. Have you ever seen someone wasted on heroin? It's not pretty. What's worse are the days after, kicking off from something that literally attacks your body, kills you a little more every second and makes you feel like death is upon you, without actually being dead. That probably doesn't even make sense, but hey, I'd be surprised if it did, coming from me.

So when I arrived home…. Let me tell you that moment is etched into my brain. I can't unsee, nor can I unhear the sound of my mom's horrified sobs or the terror in my dad's eyes. Mom fainted and dad cried as I sat down in the couch while he let out the cops, thanking them for bringing me home safely. Has anyone ever seen his dad drop to his knees and cry his lungs out, hugging you as if his and your life depended on it? That has to be the most painful memory I have.

That was also the next chapter of the book I lived. A book filled with dark pages, some empty, some nearly black with words and scribbles, others seemingy blank and just staring back at me. It marked the beginning of my recovery, or at least a well-meant attempt to achieve it, and I can honestly say that my family's help and genuine dedication to my cause was nearly enough to actually make me succeed. But I am me and fucked-up is my middle name, so this is what happened.

I was sent to a rehabilitation center. A haven for drug addicts to recover and try to find a way to re-enter society without having to do it alone. The problem is that when you kick off from heroin, you are hurting. Like hell. It's hard to describe, but as I said before, I personally feel like death. Like a breathing corpse, feeling nothing but an unbearable sensation that rips your soul and all hope from your body. If, and I say IF, you're well taken care of and get all the outside help you absolutely and desperately need, you might just pull through.

I did pull through, oh and by the way, did I mention my supportive family? My parents, brothers, sisters…?

They all tried. So hard.

I had a visitor at least every day, sometimes more than one and despite knowing I wasn't alone in this, I felt like the last man on earth. After those cops brought me home, not a single second was wasted. Clothes in the bag, parents on their way to the hospital with their half-dead, overly intoxicated excuse for a son passed out on the back seat. I spent the next days in rehab, kicking off.

Death probably feels nicer.

But I pulled through.

Once an addict, always an addict. Yeah, you've heard that before, right? Well fuck me if that isn't true. I should be ashamed to say it, but I couldn't care less, because I'd forgot what caring means. I faked my way out of there with no problems at all, I was even told they had rarely seen someone recover to the extent of actually being in the state I was. I looked healthy, skinny and pale, but a joyful look on my face, bright eyes and a voice that screamed enthousiasm.

There's always one person, though. One individual that sees through you and the lies you use as a safety net. Despite me being better and seemingly healthy, one specific docter seemed to be aware of what was going on. Of course I was better. Hard to not be when you've spent months being clean and pushed to be happy by people who apparently feel like they have the power to decide that. I had a hard time, but I got better and I was almost out. On the last day, just before I left through the front door, the doc approached me and took me aside, a serious look on her face. Her name was Lea Forester.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course", I said, my voice a perfect imitation of a guy that lived to enjoy every second of every day.

Me: "What's up?

Lea: "How are you really?"

I was going to open my mouth to ask her what she meant, but she interrupted me instantly and kept talking. This is what she told me, word for word:

"A life is something we have and take for granted, you feel like your life is something that was imposed on you and you have no idea how to see clearer. I see your eyes and I KNOW you are trying hard to give the right impression, but there's an invisible wall between you and the people around you. You act honest and genuine, but I can feel your fear and doubt. Would you consider to stay a little longer? Please stay..."

I have to say I was a bit baffled. Not because of what she said, but HOW she said it. There was compassion, empathy and even worrying in her voice and the look she gave me, the eyes she was watching me with… those were so sad. She knew what I was planning. She knew me better than I did and she knew there was nothing she could do. The decision to let me go was one made by the board and she couldn't make me stay, but she did have me doubting.

I'd been clean for months, but I never once stopped wishing I was high, stoned, drunk or wasted on whatever substance that would carry me upwards again. I was tired of being nice, looking happy, healed and strong.

I gave the doc a look and felt tears rise when I told her I had to do this.

"I appreciate you being nice to me." I said. And then I turned around and left, never to come back. I think now I can skip some parts because it would just be repeating what I said before. I found myself some coke the day I got out and I was back into heroin on the second. But then I heard of Krokodil.

A guy I used to see when fixing my dope talked to me one day about a new thing he'd started dealing. Krokodil supposedly was a drug comparable to heroin, with a few differences that actually made it sound better and I was feeling adrenaline pumping through my veins as I thought of it.

It was cheaper. A lot. The rush lasted around two hours. The effects of kicking off were less bad and the high it gave you was something I had never felt before. That's what he said, and that's when I injected my first dose of Krokodil. It was fucking amazing, guys. Please never do drugs. Read this as a recollection of my past, but do not get the impression that I am recommending you to do drugs. DON'T!

But yes, it was incredible. Until it was over. I have never felt pain like I was feeling then. I have never panicked and felt like dying like that before and I would've never guessed all of that was acceptable just because of how fucking amazing the rush was. So I did it again and again and again until my brain was only a fraction of what I had left and my body started protesting against the immense pressure I was submitting it to. I needed my fix, I needed money and fast.

See, Krokodil is a drug alright, but nothing kills you like that. Remember I said that heroin attacks your body? After my second injection of that new devil in my life, my arm started itching, which then switched to feeling uncomfortable and then eventually turned to hurting like hell. I thought I was dreaming at first, but it started turning blue and purple and I started losing sensation in my hand. It was horrible and I can't even begin to wonder what that shit was made of. But once an addict, always an addict. I'd jam a seringe in that wound and get wasted, even if my life depended on it.

So this is what happened. I was walking around town without a sense of time and looking like a zombie with my dirty clothes, deep black eye sockets and a skin as pale as the moon. People would back away or cross the street when they saw me and I wouldn't have noticed if my primary goal wasn't to get one of them to give me money. My fix, you know…. And then shit got worse.

After a while, could've been ten minutes or ten hours, I came up to a shop with big windows and saw a woman staring at it while holding her phone up to her ear. She was clearly talking with a friend and laughing, having a good time. I don't know what it was, why it happened or what it means, but my gut told me her phone was worth money and the purse she was holding probably contained some as well. I lunged towards her and used all of the strength I had left to swing my fist at the back of her head. I smacked her so hard she went flying face first into the window glass and perforated her eyes with thousands of shards. I could've ignored it and never give a single fuck ever, had it not been Lea's face I saw lying on the floor, jabbed open to make her almost unrecognizable.

Guys, I cried then and there, and that was one of the first times I did so. Not thinking clearly, or not at all, I took her phone and ran away. I came here, this calm neighbourhood to write this down and decide what my future will be. From what I can feel now, I suspect it might not be too long. My arm has been eaten away by a drug that wears its name well. The damage it causes gives your skin a leather, green/black look, making you look like a reptile. My arm is nothing more than a gaping wound and I believe I've done enough to mess everything up.

Mom, dad, if you're reading this, I want you to know that it helped. YOU helped. I know you loved me and I would like to say that I did too. But I am me, and fucked-up is my middle name.

Guys, boys, girls, good people… please don't do drugs, any, ever. They sound cool and make you feel like you can fit in, escape from reality, but they really destroy every chance of being genuinly happy and satisfied with the world.

If you should one day be confronted with this, do whatever suits you best. But I beg you to think of me and my story when you make the decision. For even though I have spent my life being high and living on clouds, I have never loved anyone or anything.