#“yes mother i would love to hear about tax evasion

[spaghettieggs]

being a kid who was raised by tumblr is interesting because you have these funky gay adults whereas i’m sitting here like “yes parent tell me about the ancient days of tumblr sexymen i long to know”

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Incorrect Quotes: ISWM (Parts 1 and 2) Edition

Engineer Mark: *speaking into a walkie-talkie* Engine to Cap, Engine to Cap! Testing! Testing!

Engineer Mark: Testing, testing, testing, testing, testing, testing, testing!

Engineer Mark: TESTING! AAAAUUUUGGH! TEST, TEST! DO YOU READ?!

Captain: *smiling* Cap to Engine, I read you loud and clear

___

Celci: So, what, now we’re just supposed to do anything that the Captain does? I mean, what if they jumped off a cliff? Engineer Mark: If the Captain were to jump off a cliff, they would’ve done their due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry, so yes. If you see the Captain jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff. Celci: You jump off a cliff! Engineer Mark: Gladly. Provided the Captain does first.

___

Wug: So, Friend Gunther challenged Wug to a sparring match. Wug agreed, because Wug was curious about human combat. Things went pretty good at first, but then Friend Mark walked in looking for something, and. . .Wug accidentally punched him in the face.

Wug: And while Wug was trying to help Friend Mark up, Wug couldn’t decide whether to say, “WUG’S SO FUCKING SORRY, HUMAN!” Or “HUMAN, ARE YOU OKAY?”

Wug: So. . .Wug just panicked and yelled, “ARE YOU FUCKING SORRY, HUMAN?!”

___

Engineer Mark: It’s a white flag, Mack. And you might as well start waving it—

Mack: THE ONLY THING I WILL BE WAVING IS YOUR DECAPITATED HEAD ON A STICK IN FRONT OF YOUR WEEPING MOTHER!

___

Gunther: Whoa, careful there, buddy. You’re making this whole fight-to-the-death thing a little homoerotic. . .

Gunther: Then again, that might just be me. This happens so often it’s hard to tell

___

Engineer Mark: Hey, wanna bang?

Engineer Mark: HANG! I meant hang! Damn autocorrect. . .

Captain: . . .Mark, this is a verbal conversation

___

Captain: We all learn from our mistakes 

Celci: Then Mark should be a genius by now. . .

___

Engineer Mark, Celci, Gunther, and Mack: *arguing very loudly and very aggressively. No one can tell what they’re even fighting over, least of all any of them*

Burt: *stares at them, expression completely blank. His eyes twitch, one after the other*

Burt: *takes a deep breath, then slams his arm on the table everyone is sitting at* WE ARE IN A GODDAMN IHOP! ACT LIKE IT!!!

___

Celci: Mack isn’t exactly a team player

Captain: What do you mean?

Celci: Just earlier, he told me that I was the only other person on this ship with any functioning braincells. Then he asked me to “come lead a magnificent revolution” with him because “we could take over command of the Invincible II, and eventually the universe at large.”

Captain: . . .Oh. Well, what did you say to that?

Celci: I accepted, of course. Which reminds me that I should be going—

___

Allu: You often use humor to deflect trauma

Engineer Mark: Thank you

Allu: That’s. . .not a good thing—

Engineer Mark: All I’m hearing is that you think I’m funny

___

Engineer Mark: Don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m doing. Everything is gonna be fine!

Captain: How can you still say that?!

Engineer Mark: Because sometimes, when things get tough, D E N I A L is all we have.

___

Wug: Wug doesn’t think Wug can be on the same ship as the human who ruined Wug’s life

Captain: *on their knees, sobbing* FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, I’M SORRY, I DON’T KNOW WHY I DIDN’T WANT THE DONUTS, PLEASE FORGIVE ME—

___

Mack: Finally! With control over the Invincible II, the ultimate power is mine!

Mack: PERFECT TAX EVASION

___

Captain: Gunther, we’ve been over this. Violence isn’t the answer.

Gunther: Y’know what, Cap? You’re right. . .

Captain: *sighs in relief* Thank you.

Gunther: Violence is the QUESTION. 

Captain: Wait, what?

Gunther: *now running away* AND THE ANSWER IS ALWAYS YES!

Captain: GUNTHER NO—!

___

Mack: It would be nice to change the world, y’know?

Captain: For the better?

Mack: . . .

Captain: Mack, please answer me

___

Wug: YOU HEAR WUG, YOU BASTARD?! WUG’LL CUT OFF YOUR NUTSACK AND NAIL IT TO WUG’S DOOR! LIKE ONE OF THOSE. . .LION DOOR-KNOCKERS RICH FOLKS GOT! THAT WILL BE YOUR BALLS!

___

Gunther: *drunk as hell* H-HEY GUYS, LET’S PLAY SPIN THE BOTTLE!

Celci: DID YOU DRINK THAT ENTIRE BOTTLE OF WHISKEY?!

Gunther: OKAY, I’LL GO FIRST—

___

Engineer Mark: *high off his tits on spacedust* Drink water, get plenty of sleep, go mad in space, talk to the dead, take your meds, don’t talk to cops.

___

Captain: So, did everyone learn their lesson?

Engineer Mark: No.

Wug: Wug did not

Burt: I may have actually forgotten one.

Gunther: Also no.

Captain: Oh, good, neither did I.

Allu: *exhausted sigh*

___

Captain: Well, you know what they say—when life gives you lemons. . .

Engineer Mark: Put them in a facemask 

Celci: Use them as a battery

Gunther: Throw them at people

Mack: Squirt the juice into life’s eyes. Steal life’s wallet and assume its identity. Now you ARE life. You hold dominion over all. Your enemies cower at your feet.

Captain: . . .make lemonade. The answer was to make lemonade, guys.

___

Bandit: Wug was banned from the intergalactic chicken shack, so we had to go into the wormhole to get some.

Wug: Well, they shouldn’t say “all you can eat” if they don’t mean it!

Bandit: Wug, you ate a chair. . .

___

Engineer Mark: I hate when people say “Are you even listening to me?”

Engineer Mark: That’s such a weird way to start a conversation.

___

[At Chef Rexx’s restaurant]

Burt: *walks up to the counter* Do you serve coffee here?

Cashier Rexx: *nods* Sure do.

Burt: Okay. Can I get a venti vanilla latte with. . .uhhhh. . .

Burt: . . .seven shots of espresso?

Cashier Rexx: *blinks* Jesus Christ, just do cocaine—!

___

Mack: You know what else is not stealing? Putting an extra bike lock on a stranger’s bike.

Mack: It’s insane that bike locks are legal. You have any idea the amount of power that you wield. . .with your imagination and a bike lock? There are so many things—like, you could just walk past a Baskin Robins and be like “You’re closed!”

___

Engineer Mark: Hey, did you know that “thot” means “thoughtful person?”

Allu: Really? I didn’t know this Earth slang

[Later, on the Invincible II]

Allu: Thanks so much for giving me a tour of your ship, Captain. You’re such a thot.

Captain: *wheezing* I’m a WHAT—

___

Engineer Mark: Do you ever get a feeling where you look at someone and your heart skips a beat?

Burt: That’s called arrhythmia.

Engineer Mark: *not really paying attention* I get that feeling every time I look at the Captain—

Burt: *starts dragging Engineer Mark to MedBay* It’s a serious condition that you can die from

___

Captain: Life gets so much better when you accept yourself for the weird little bitch that you are.

___

Mack: The Captain made me care about stupid things.

Engineer Mark: Like what?

Mack: Friends. Humanity. My mental health.

Captain: Don’t forget the morals!

Mack: *lets out a long-suffering sigh* And morals.

___

Bandit: The path to peace begins with four simple words.

Bandit: Not. My. Fucking. Problem.

___

Engineer Mark: Allu didn’t know that “cowboy” is a word, so, they called them “horse-pirates” and I’ve been laughing about it for an hour.

___

Captain: *guiding the Invincible II crew on an expedition around the new planet*

Tyler: Psst. Hey, Gunther. I missed something. Can I see your notes?

Gunther: Sure thing. Here ya go.

Tyler: Thanks.

Tyler: *looks at the notebook*

Tyler: . . .This is the Hamburglar being torn apart by bears. . .

Gunther: I’m thinking of doing a graphic novel so I can shop it around to Hollywood studios.

Tyler: The Hamburglar being torn apart by bears, Gunther.

Gunther: Yeah, I’m not really sure what you were expecting from my notes.

___

Engineer Mark: I almost drowned in the sink.

Celci: I’m sorry, what?

Mack: Imagine that headline. “Head Engineer of Invincible II Drowns in Sink.”

Burt: How do you even drown in a sink?

Engineer Mark: Well, I filled the sink and put my face in it. And then my head got stuck under the faucet.

Captain: Mark, what the actual fuck—

___

Gunther: Why the fuck do I NEED to come out?! If you really think I’M straight, then that’s on you!

___

Engineer Mark: FOUR MONTHS!

Captain: What’s with him?

Mack: *suppressing his giggles* It’s nothing, really—

Engineer Mark: THAT’S HOW LONG YOU STOOD BY AND WATCHED ME WATER A FAKE PLANT!

___

Engineer Mark: *pointing* Is this seat taken?

Captain: . . .That’s my lap.

Engineer Mark: With all due respect, that doesn’t answer my question, Captain.

___

Mack: *dripping with sarcasm* Oh, I’m sorry! Why don’t we just relax and turn on the radio? Would you like AHM or FHMMMMMMMM?!

___

Bandit: *slightly raising her voice to be heard down the aisle* What chip brand do you want?

Wug: *yelling back at full volume* WUG’S ALWAYS A SLUT FOR COOL RANCH DORITOS

___

Engineer Mark: Can we agree to not tell anyone about this?

Bandit: This isn’t even the most disappointing thing I know about you so far

___

Captain: I just want someone to take me out.

Burt: . . .Like, on a date or with a sniper?

Captain: *thinking of Mark and Mack* I’m open to surprises.

___

Allu: It’s kind of hot out to be wearing all black.

Captain: *obviously uncomfortable* I look awesome

Allu: *genuinely concerned* You look pallid and sick.

Captain: *sweating profusely* Yeah, sick as fuck—

___

Mack: Before you judge someone, walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you judge them, you’ll be a mile away from them and will also have their shoes. And they probably won’t be able to do anything about it.

___

Allu: Hey, Captain? Can you please give me some. . .dating advice?

Captain: Look, just because I’m in a relationship with several members of my crew doesn’t mean I know how I did it.

___

Bandit: Alright, Wug, Today was a good day, but now it’s time for some shuteye.

Wug: *holding up an adorable, fluffy plushie* Mr. Snuffles says Wug can stay up as long as Wug wants, and that Friend Bandit needs to die!

Bandit: *staring at the plushie* . . .What the heck, Mr. Snuffles?

___

Ms. Whitacare: There are seven chairs and ten kids. What do you do?

Engineer Mark: Have everyone stand.

Burt: Bring in three more chairs.

Mack: Choose the best seven and let them sit down.

Gunther: Kill three.

___

Engineer Mark: Y’know, sometimes I don’t think you take me seriously.

Bandit: Really? There are times you think I do?

___

Celci: Hey, toss me my keys.

Engineer Mark: *chucks a printer at Celci*

Celci: I said keys!

Engineer Mark: I thought you said printer.

Celci: Why the FUCK would I say PRINTER?

___

Captain: I come from a long line of people who had something wrong with them.

___

Gunther: It’s got everything I like! Gratuitous violence. . .

Gunther: . . .

Captain: Oh, I thought you were listing things.

Gunther: I was. I’m done now.

___

Allu: Where’s your Head Engineer?

Captain: Oh, Mark? He’s just doing stuff.

Allu: I don’t like the sound of that. Where’s your Cryogenics Officer?

Captain: Trying to stop Mark from doing the stuff.

Allu: And your ADS Officer?

Captain: Trying to stop Celci from stopping Mark from doing the stuff.

Allu: I see. And what are you doing here, Captain?

Captain: I’m supposed to stop you from stopping Gunther from stopping Celci from stopping Mark form doing the stuff.

___

Engineer Mark: Dude, I just read an article that said swearing can make you live longer.

Gunther: I! SHALL BE! IMORTAAAAAAAAALLLL!!!!

___

Mack: Hello? Engineer Mark: Hey, what’s up? Mack: I need your help. Can you come here? Engineer Mark: Eh, I can’t, I’m buying clothes. Mack: Alright, well, hurry up and get over here Engineer Mark: I can’t find ‘em. Mack: . . .Whaddaya mean you can’t find ‘em? Engineer Mark: I can’t find ‘em, there’s only soup. Mack: Whadaya mean there’s only soup? Engineer: It means there’s only soup! Mack: Well then, get OUT of the SOUP AISEL! Engineer Mark: ALRIGHT, you don’t have to SHOUT AT ME! […] Engineer Mark: There’s more soup! Mack: Whaddaya mean there’s more soup?! Engineer Mark: There’s just more soup! Mack: Go into the next aisle! […] Engineer Mark: There’s still soup! Mack: Where are you right now?! Engineer Mark: I’m at soup! Mack: WHADDAYA MEAN YOU’RE “AT SOUP?” Engineer Mark: I MEAN I’M AT SOUP! Mack: WHAT STORE ARE YOU IN?! Engineer Mark: I’M AT THE SOUP STORE!! Mack: WHY’RE YOU BUYING CLOTHES AT THE SOUP STORE?!?!?!? Engineer Mark: FUCK YOU!!!!

___

Allu: No, I’m not tired of being nice. Yes, I still wanna go apeshit. These things can coexist, stop asking me.

Allu: I wanna go apeshit, but like, in a kind and respectful way.

___

Burt: Now, guys, stop arguing or we’ll turn this ship around!

Captain: *grabbing the controls* SHUT UP OR I’LL STEER THIS SHIP INTO A FUCKING ASTEROID FIELD

Engineer Mark and Mack: *screaming*

___

Captain: Hey, what time is it?

Engineer Mark: *shrugs* I don’t know. Hand me my trumpet.

Captain: *raises an eyebrow, then takes Mark’s childhood trumpet out of his closet and gives it to him*

Engineer Mark: Thank you. *starts playing the trumpet very loudly and very poorly*

Celci: *yelling from across the ship* WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING A TRUMPET AT FOUR IN THE MORNING?!?!?

Engineer Mark: It’s four in the morning.

___

Gunther: So far this year, I have realized that I am—1. Out of control, and 2. Even bi-er than I thought I was.

___

Engineer Mark: Am I in trouble?

Celci: Take a guess.

Engineer Mark: . . .No?

Celci: Take another guess

___

Captain: *completely deadpan* Stop forgiving my crimes. I worked hard on those.

___

Engineer Mark: He’s touching me!

Mack: *pointing at Mark, holding his finger exactly one inch from Mark’s shoulder* I am not.

Engineer Mark: AH! You’re touching me!

Mack: *in a sing-song voice* Not touching~

Engineer Mark: TOUCHING. ME.

Mack: *rolls his eyes* It’s free air.

Engineer Mark: *grabs Mack’s hand and bites him*

Mack: *shrieking bloody murder* HE BIT ME! CAPTAIN, MARK’S BITING ME!

Captain: *not looking up from their work* Knock it off, you two. I’m busy.

Engineer Mark: HE STARTED IT

Captain: I don’t care who started it, I’LL FINISH IT.

___

Celci: Are you familiar with the gearshift?

Engineer Mark: You mean the prindle?

Celci: . . .The what?

Engineer Mark: The prindle!

Celci: For God’s sake—are you referring to the lever that say P-R-N-D-L?

Engineer Mark: I’m not a kid, Celci! I know how to spell prindle!

___

Celci: Some people just need a high-five.

Celci: . . .in the face. . .

Celci: . . .with a chair. . .

___

Engineer Mark: *carrying several supplies, obviously struggling*

Captain: *holds out their hands to help*

Engineer Mark: *aggressively moves all the supplies to one hand in order to hold hands with The Captain*

___

Engineer Mark: Why can’t you just see things from my perspective?!

Celci: *kneels down*

Mack: *sits on the floor*

Burt: *curls up into a ball*

Engineer Mark: Okay, listen here, you little shits—

___

Celci: Get out of my quarters, Mark.

Engineer Mark: *standing exactly one inch from the doorway* But I’m not even in your quarters.

Celci: I don’t care, get out of my quarters!

Engineer Mark: But I’m not IN your quarters!

Celci: Well you’re bothering me so GET OUT!

Engineer Mark: I’m just minding my own business!

Celci: Yeah, in MY quarters! Captain, Mark is in my quarters!

Captain: Mark, please head to your own quarters. 

Engineer Mark: I’M NOT EVEN IN HER FUCKING QUARTERS!

___

Gunther: Quick, I need $10,000 because I have ADHD and am bisexual

___

Burt: *takes a long, deep breath*

Burt: *whispers* “yup” as quietly as humanly possible*

___

Wug: Wug thinks Friend Mx. Allu might be mad at you and Friend Captain.

Engineer Mark: What makes you say that?

Wug: *typing on his communicator* Friend Mx. Allu seemed really busy when Wug went to report to them, and they asked Wug to relay a message to Friend Mark.

Engineer Mark: *leans forward to listen to the hologram recording*

Allu: *on the hologram* Greetings, Human. I hope this message finds you before I do. . .

___

Mack: My two reasons for doing things—1. Spite, and 2. The aesthetic. That’s it.

Mack: . . .Okay, I lied—3. Attention

___

Engineer Mark: They say lions throw their cubs off ravines and only raise the ones strong enough to climb back up. Well, firstly, that’s not true and completely irrelevant to the story, but it makes for a cool opening!

___

Bandit: I lost Wug for an entire weekend at the mall once.

Bandit: He was living in a boba shop. He was so happy there. . .

___

[The Captain is introducing the crew to Allu Minum]

Captain: This is Burt, short for Burton.

Captain: This is Celci, short for Celcionna.

Captain: This is Mack, short for Mackenzie.

Captain: And this is Mark. He’s just short.

Engineer Mark: *internally screaming*

Everyone Else: *struggling to contain their laughter*

___

Gunther: I did a little bit of spying on the Captain. Do you want me to spill the beans?

Burt: Why would you ever intentionally spill beans? They’re one of nature’s most densely packed protein sources, and they remain unsullied by flavor.

___

Captain: Sometimes I just wanna yeet myself out of the ship and taste some of that delicious, scrumptious space air

Engineer Mark: As I can recall, there is no space air?

Captain: Exactly

___

Engineer Mark: WHY AREN’T THERE ADULT-SIZED PLAYGROUNDS?!

Engineer Mark: Like, everything is the same as a kid’s playground, but bigger! Why don’t we have those?!

Burt: We do. They’re called theme parks.

Engineer Mark: But you have to PAY for theme parks!

Burt: That’s the adult part.

___

Engineer Mark: Do you think we went overboard with the party decorations?

Gunther: Nah, it’s cool

Celci: THE SHIP IS ON FIRE

Burt: Aesthetic

___

Engineer Mark: Hey, Mack? Where’s the Captain?

Mack: The Captain’s fine. . . *starts laughing maniacally*

Mack: Sorry, I just thought of something funny. *points at The Captain* They’re right here.

___

[Engineer Mark and Gunther are practice-sparring]

Gunter: *pulls yet another gun seemingly out of nowhere* Check this out, Markimoo!

Engineer Mark: GUNTHER!? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? YOU THINK YOU CAN HURT ME WITH THAT? WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO, GUNTHER? SHOOT ME?

[30 minutes later]

Celci, to Engineer Mark as his gunshot wounds are getting treated in MedBay: I’m really not sure what you were expecting to happen there.

___

Burt: Captain, what are you doing?

Captain: I’m confronting the person who ruined my life.

Burt: . . .

Burt: You’re yelling at a mirror, Captain. . .

___

Engineer Mark: Yes, I know you reassured me literally one hour ago, but I need reassurance once again.

___

[A typical conversation about The Captain]

Mack: —HOT! HOW ARE THEY SO FUCKING HOT?! AND RESPECTFUUUUUULLL?!?!?

Engineer Mark: *quietly snickering* Oh my God. . .

Mack: THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH THEM.

___

Gunther: Captain, facts are like stars

Burt: Always in the sky, but you can’t always see them

Gunther: No, they’re like shining holes in the dark light of my ignorance. AND I DON’T LIKE ‘EM!

___

Captain: My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco.

Gunther: My life is a little too much fallout and not enough boy.

Celci: My life is a little too much chemical and not enough romance.

Burt: My life is a little too much imagination and not enough dragons

___

Wug: What’s the meaning of human life?

Captain: Mark.

Wug: Aww! Because Friend Mark is always by Friend Captain’s side?

Captain: No. Because life is short.

Wug: *bursts out laughing*

Engineer Mark, from the other room: I HEARD THAT

___

Engineer Mark: People who sleep with their phone on silent or DND really don’t give a fuck about anybody.

Celci and/or The Bandit: Look, if you decide to have a problem after midnight, that’s between you and God.

Captain: . . .

Burt: How do you set your phone to Dungeons and Dragons?

___

Engineer Mark: Allu won’t trace it back to us, don’t worry

Captain: Are you for real? They trace everything back to us! They’ve traced things we haven’t even done back to us!

___

Engineer Mark: This ship is an “uwu” free zone

Celci: For once, I agree with you, Mark. And anyone who goes “uwu” or “OwO” in response shall be imprisoned for their crimes against humanity

Mack: cwimes agwainst huwmanwity ^w^

Engineer Mark: *starting to tremble, tears now running down his face* I-I am going t-to break your fucking fingers. . !

Burt: bwoken bwones awe tempowawy. Bwut twauma-indwuced nightmwares can wast as wong as a wifetime uwu

Celci: *grits her teeth, trying to keep a pokerface* I won’t hesitate to kill you, bitches!

Captain: *begins crawling around on the ceiling* this mowtwal vessel is ownwy a shwell contwaining howwors the univwerse has newer sween OwO

Engineer Mark and Celci: *holding each other and screaming in absolute terror*

___

Gunther: *pulls a cigar out of his jacket*

Celci: *gives Gunther a disapproving look*

Gunther: *shrugs as he lights the cigar* I just like the feeling of something in my lungs.

Celci: . . .

Gunther: . . .

Celci: Have you tried breathing—

___

Captain: *being interviewed after going through a certain timeline* Am I intimidated by Mack? No. He can be a bit crazy at times, but—

Engineer Mark: *pokes his head through the door of The Captain’s quarters* Mack requested a meeting with you

Captain: *scrambling under their desk* oH SHIT—

___

Mack: Captain, you ignorant slut—

___

Celci: Whatever you’re thinking right now, stop.

Engineer Mark: What?

Celci: You always make that face when you’re about to say something stupid to piss me off. So do yourself a favor and cut it out alrea—

Engineer Mark: I wanted to apologize for all the animosity between us. I shouldn’t just resort to insulting you when you bring up ideas that are different than mine. I haven’t been respecting you like a good crew member should, so I can’t expect you to respect me, either. 

Celci: . . .

Engineer Mark: . . .

Celci: Mark, I—

Engineer Mark: Also, cereal qualifies as a soup

Celci: I FUCKING KNEW IT!!!

___

Celci: The Captain’s cryopod has been malfunctioning; they won’t be able to enter or stay in hibernation because of it. We can’t take off until it’s repaired.

Burt: So, what you’re proposing is that whomever helps the Captain stay asleep wins some kind of prize?

Celci: That’s not at all what I—

Mack: *bursts into the room, holding a cast iron frying pan* Where are they?

___

Captain: *on their communicator* Bandit! We need your help! I—

Bandit: *having been just woken up* Nuh-uh, Cap. Is your ship on fire?

Captain: . . .Well, no—

Bandit: Then it’s not a real emergency. *hangs up and goes back to sleep*

Celci: What did she say? She’s an expert on wormholes, isn’t she? Did she know what to do about a portal to some new dimension opening up in the commons room?

Captain: Apparently, this isn’t a real emergency.

Engineer Mark: *being strangled by some horrific alien creature* HOW THE FUCK IS THIS NOT A REAL EMERGENCY?!

___

Burt: Captain, you know Mark will never agree to this plan.

Captain: Sure he will

Celci: I’ve already asked him three times. His response was to blow raspberries and flip me off.

Captain: Well then, let me try

Captain: *walks into the next room, approaching Mark* Hey, Mark! Could you—

Engineer Mark: Y e s .

___

Burt: Change is inedible. Celci: Don't you mean inevitable? Burt: *spitting out coins* No, I did not.

___

Captain: I’m gonna need a human skull and I can't have you ask any questions why.

Bandit: Only if you also don't ask why Bandit: *pulls seven pristine human skulls out of her coat* Take your pick. Captain: . . . Bandit: . . . Captain: This one is fine

___

Captain: Gunther, I said you could bring one other crew member to this meeting. ONE.

Gunther: They’re good pals. They work well together.

Mack: *trying to strangle Engineer Mark in the background* WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY ABOUT PEEPACHU?!?! SAY IT AGAIN RIGHT NOW!!!! I DARE YOU!!!!!!!!

Captain: . . .

Gunther: . . .I mean, they’re entertaining, aren’t they?

___

Captain: Mark and I have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other’s— Engineer Mark: Sentences? Captain: Don't interrupt me.

___

Mack: Hey, Captain! Trick or Yeet?

Captain: *confused and not really paying attention* “Yeet?”

Mack: Yeet it is!

Mack: *tosses The Captain into the dungeon*

___

Gunther: I'm 10 times funnier and sexier than you Captain: 10 times 0 is still 0 though Gunther: Jokes on you, I can't do math

___

Captain: Mark, you need to apologize to Celci

Engineer Mark: *rolling his eyes* Fffffffiiiine!

Engineer Mark: *with strained politeness towards Celci* “Unfuck you,” or whatever

___

Wug: If Theoretical Human had to choose between Hideous Human and all the money Wug has in Wug’s wallet, which would Theoretical Human take? Mack: That depends, how much money are we talking about? Engineer Mark: Mack. . ! Wug: 63 cents. Mack: I'll take the money. Engineer Mark: MACK!!!

___

Captain: *to the Invincible II crew* Alright, listen up, you little shits!

Captain: *to Wug and The Bandit* Not you two. You’re angels and we’re glad to have you here

___

Engineer Mark: What did Vincent say when he lost his car in the parking lot?

Engineer Mark: “Where did my Van Gogh?”

Celci: *rolling her eyes* The correct pronunciation of “Gogh” is “goff,” you uncultured swine.

Engineer Mark: *gives Celci double birds* Well then, fuck Gogh.

Mack: *just passing through* Actually, both of you are wrong. Vincent Van Gogh was Dutch. His name is actually pronounced “Van KHOCK,” so, suck my Gogh.

___

Gunther: If I don’t pay up I’ll go to jail for tax evasion! I’m insane enough to take on drones and aliens. . .but the IRS? NOOOOOOOOOOO THANK YOUUUUUUU!!!

___

Gunther: Just trust me, alright? Have I ever put us in an unsafe or uncomfortable situation?

Mack: Yes? Literally all the time?!

Gunther: Then you should be used to it now, bitchboy 

___

Engineer Mark: I’m well aware of the fact that I’ve accidentally set myself on fire. 

Engineer Mark: Is that any of your business? No, it is not.

Engineer Mark: And no, I don’t need your pity water. Let me burn in peace.

___

Mack: *gently taps table*

Engineer Mark: *taps table in response*

Captain: What are they doing?

Burt: Using morse code

Mack: *now aggressively tapping the table*

Engineer Mark: *slams his hands down on the table* YOU TAKE THAT BACK!

___

Ms. Whitacare: Now, what are the three stages of life?

Celci: Birth

Captain: What the fuck is this

Engineer Mark: Death

___

Allu: Looks like you and your crew are all set. *Shakes hands with The Captain* Have fun on the rest of your journey. Please don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

Engineer Mark: *raising an eyebrow* I thought you said to have FUN.

___

Captain, to a heavily injured Engineer Mark: We’re almost at MedBay, Mark. Quick, what’s your type?

Engineer Mark, a bit loopy: Vague features, a thoughtful attitude, a firm grip. . .

Captain: . . .

Captain: NO, I MEANT YOUR BLOOD TYPE!

Engineer Mark: . . .Oh.

Engineer Mark: Red

___

Captain: Name a more iconic duo than me and procrastination! Go ahead, I’ll wait.

Burt: Of course you will

Mack: I should kill you

___

Captain: I’m having a baby. 

Invincible II Crew: *celebrating* Wug: Really? Wow! Wug’s never seen infant humans befo— Captain: *slamming adoption papers on the table in front of Wug* It's you, sign here.

___

Mack: Let’s play a game. We all know the Captain and Mark will end up killing each other, inadvertently or not, but what about everyone else? Celci: Gunther will do some murdering, but in the end, he’ll ultimately be murdered. Gunther: *nodding* I can see that Burt: What about me? Celci: You crave toast while taking a bath

Burt: *under his breath* I do love bath snacks

___

Celci: Dammit, Mark! Engineer Mark: What?! It wasn’t me! Celci: Wait, seriously? Sorry, force of habit. Dammit, Gunther! Gunther: Not me either. Celci: Oh. . .Then who set the ship on fire? Mack, who will swear on the wormhole that he saw a spider in his cryopod: *whistles nervously*

___

Captain: There is no future. There is no past. Don’t you see? Time is simultaneous, an intricately structured jewel that we humans insist on viewing one edge at a time, when the whole design is visible in every facet. Engineer Mark: . . . Celci: . . . Gunther: . . .

Burt: . . . 

Chica: . . .

Mack: . . . The Rest of the Invincible II Crew At The Captain’s Surprise Birthday Party: . . . Tyler, piping up: . . .All Mark asked was if you wanted to cut your birthday cake first. . .

___

Engineer Mark: We are now one day closer to eating our next plate of nachos. Gunther: That’s. . .the most hopeful thing I've heard all week. Captain: But what if we die tomorrow and never eat any nachos? Burt: Then tomorrow is nacho lucky day.

Celci: *shoving Burt towards the airlock* GET OUT!!!! 

___

Engineer Mark: Where do I hide?

Gunther: You don’t hide. You’re the bait. Go act. . .baity, or something

Engineer Mark: What’s the plan?

Celci: The enemies attack you.

Engineer Mark: And then what?

Mack The enemies kill you. We watch. We rejoice.

___

Gunther: I just ended a five-year relationship. . .

Engineer Mark: Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, buddy! Are you okay? Gunther: Yeah? It wasn’t MY relationship

___

Engineer Mark: *looks into a nearby mirror and sighs sadly* Everyone hates the way I look. I have the sex appeal of a math textbook.

Mack: Well, that’s just completely inaccurate!

Engineer Mark: *pauses, then slowly looks at Mack* Really.  . ?

Mack: *nods* I’ve never known anyone who’s opened a math textbook without saying “fuck me”

___

Celci: I want to roll my eyes right now, but the doctor said if I keep doing that, my ocular muscles might spasm and eject my eyeballs.

___

Engineer Mark: I really hit rock bottom last night. And I mean that literally—I fell into a pit and hit a rock.

Engineer Mark: I remember lying there thinking, “There’s probably a good reason why I’m down here.”

Engineer Mark: And then I started thinking, “I need morphine”

___

Gunther: Self care is actually getting into fights with randoms in dark alleys. Celci: No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it, or taking a nice cat nap. Wug: Self care is the burning heat of rage washing over you!! Self care is when you feel bones crack under your powerful fists!! Self care is fear in your enemies’ eyes!!! Engineer Mark: Lmao self care is taking your birthday cake just so I can eat the frosting. Mack: If you so much as touch my birthday cake before me, I’ll make you eat your hands.

___

Celci: *setting down a card* Ace of spades Engineer Mark: *pulling out an Uno card* +4 Mack: *pulling out a Pokémon card* Jolteon, I choose you Allu: *trembling* What kind of human game is this?

___

Mack: Dumbest scar stories, go! Celci: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. Engineer Mark: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it. Gunther: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. Burt: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and got a really bad burn. Captain: . . . Captain: I have emotional scars.

___

Celci: If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous. Engineer Mark: What if it bites me and it dies? Mack: Then you’re poisonous. Jesus Christ, Mark, learn to listen. Captain: What if it bites itself and I die? Burt: That’s voodoo. Wug: What if it bites Wug and someone else dies? Allu: That’s correlation, not causation. Bandit: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die? Gunther: That’s kinky. Celci: Oh my God.

___

[The Invincible II crew is standing around a broken coffee maker]

Captain: *folds their arms across their chest, addressing the crew* So. Who broke it? I’m not mad, I just wanna know.

Everyone: *remains silent* . . .

Wug: *piping up, surprisingly meek* . . .Wug did. Wug broke it.

Captain: *shakes their head knowingly* No. No, you didn’t. Mark?

Engineer Mark: *holds up his hands in defense* Don’t look at me, Captain. Look at Celci.

Celci: What?! I didn’t break it!

Engineer Mark: Huh, that’s weird. How’d you even know it was broken?

Celci: *raises an eyebrow* Because it’s sitting right in front of us and it’s broken.

Engineer Mark: *puts his hands on his hips and squints at Celci* Suspicious.

Celci: *reasonably exasperated* No, it’s not!

Burt: If it matters, probably not, but Gunther was the last one to use it.

Gunther: Liar! I don’t even drink that crap!

Burt: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart earlier?

Gunther: *flexes his hand, showing off his nicely-manicured fingernails* I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that, Burt!

Wug: *coming between Gunther and Burt, lightly pushing them away from one another* No fighting, humans! Wug broke it. Wug will fix it, Friend Captain.

Captain: No! Who broke it?!

Everyone: *remains silent* . . .

Gunther: *notices that Mack has just entered the room* Cap. . .Mack’s been awfully quiet.

Mack: *does a neck-snapping doubletake* rEALLY?!

[Everyone starts arguing. The fight gets louder and more out of control by the second]

Captain: *now being interviewed. The argument is still going on in the background* I broke it. It burned my hand, so I punched it on reflex.

Captain: *glances over their shoulder at the crew* I predict ten minutes from now, they’ll be at each other’s throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig’s head on a stick.

Captain: . . .

Captain: *smiles mischievously with one eye twitching* Good. It was getting a little chummy around here.

___

Captain: Time for Plan G. Wug: Don’t you mean Plan B? Captain: No, we tried Plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over Plan C due to technical difficulties. Burt: What about Plan D? Captain: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago. Gunther: What about Plan E? Captain: I’m hoping not to use it. Mark dies in Plan E. Celci and The Bandit: *in almost perfect unison* I like Plan E.

___

Mack: Back in college, we literally named our volleyball team “NO GAMES SCHEDULED,” because if the other team didn’t show up, they lost their league deposit and forfeited. It worked several times. Everyone hated us and nothing as cool as that has happened to me since.

Captain: . . .You’ve got real issues, man.

___

Gunther: Truth or dare? Captain: Dare Gunther: I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room Captain: Hey, Mark? Engineer Mark: *blushing* Yeah? Captain: Could you move? I’m trying to get to the Bandit 

___

Captain: You can throw around all the French you want! It doesn’t make you right!

Mack: Au contraire

___

Captain: Hewwo. Engineer Mark: Hihiiiiii! Allu: Greetings, Humans. Celci: Three kinds of people. Wug: Wug want donuts. Bandit: Four kinds of people. Gunther: WHAT’S UP FUCKERS? Celci: Five kinds of people.

___

Bandit: Rules are made to be broken. Allu: They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken. Captain: Uh, piñatas. Engineer Mark: Glow sticks. Gunther: Karate boards. Burt: Spaghetti when you have a small pot. Bandit: Rules. Allu: . . .

___

Engineer Mark: *seeing how Mack manipulated and betrayed The Captain* Look at this! You played them like a fiddle!

Mack: *considers this, then shakes his head* Oh no, Mark. Fiddles are actually pretty difficult to play

Mack: I played the Captain like the cheap kazoo they were

___

Gunther: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat? Celci: >:O language Wug: Yeah, human! Watch your fucking language Captain: OKAY WHO TAUGHT WUG THE FUCK WORD? Engineer Mark: 'The fuck word'. Burt: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time Bandit: Oh my god they censored it Gunther: Say fuck, Burt. Engineer Mark: Do it, Burt. Say fuck.

___

Mack: Don't worry, I’ve got a plan. Captain: Alright. Mack: TraitorSayWhat? Engineer Mark: Excuse me? Mack: What? Captain: . . . Engineer Mark: . . . Mack: No wait—

___

Engineer Mark: “Smile!”

Captain: “Sweet!”

Celci: “Sister!”

Mack: “Sadistic!”

Wug: “Surprise!”

Burt: “Service!”

Gunther:  “succ” 

___

Allu: I CAN'T DO IT! Bandit: *laughing* I CAN'T EITHER! Allu: I CAN’T FUCKING DO IT ANYMORE Celci: WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US. Allu: . . . Allu: I appreciate it, Allu: BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH! Wug: Miss Lady— Allu: YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE! Mack: Look, we gotta— Allu: YOU GOTTA DRAW A FUCKING LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT. Allu: YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?' Allu: *motioning to The Captain and Engineer Mark* NOT FUCKING THIS!!!

___

Captain: I trust Mark. Celci: You think he knows what he’s doing? Captain: I wouldn't go that far.

___

Captain: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity? Celci: *turning to Engineer Mark* How tall are you?

___

Wug: Wug kind of crushing on someone, but Wug’s worried about telling Friend Mark who it is, because Friend Mark won’t like it Engineer Mark: Just rip the bandage off. Wug: It Friend Captain Engineer Mark: *grinding his teeth together* Put the bandage back on.

___

Engineer Mark: Would you guys be there for me if I was going through something?

Celci: Nope, absolutely not. Bandit: I hope it sucks, whatever you're going through. Wug: Wug hopes it emotionally scars Hideous Human for the rest of Hideous Human’s life. Allu: I hope you reach out to me so I can ignore you. Ms. Whitacare: I can't wait to go to your funeral, knowing I could've changed that outcome.

___

Captain: *running towards the airlock* I’m gonna jump!

Mack: Do a flip!

___

Allu: *to The Captain* The universe is in the hands of an idiot! Captain: *motioning to themself and Engineer Mark* No no no no no, TWO idiots!

___

Captain: Stressed

Celci: Depressed

Mack: Possessed

Engineer Mark: Obsessed

Allu: Unimpressed 

Wug: Chicken breast

Everyone: . . .What?

Wug: Wug just wanted to join in.

___

Bandit: Wait, hold up, why do you draw yourself like that?

Captain: Uh, like what?

Bandit: Like with gorgeous, muscular legs

Captain: This is what I look like.

Bandit: . . .

Captain: THIS IS WHAT I LOOK LIKE!

Bandit: Okay, then I want big, beefy arms. Hot ones.

Wug: Wug wants a cowboy hat!

Captain: Okay, arms and hat *draws them*

Burt: Ooh, give me a cowboy hat, too!

Captain: You can’t just take Wug’s hat idea, Burt! They thought it up all by themself like a good person! Come up with your own thing!

Burt: BUT I WANNA LOOK COOL!

Engineer Mark: Put Celci on one of those stupid baby tricycles.

Celci: NO!!

Captain: Tricycle, done. *draws it* Gunther, want anything?

Engineer Mark: *making finger guns* Pew pew.

Captain: Another gun? That’s kind of already his thing. Gunther, do you want something different? 

Gunther: *glaring and aggressively making finger guns* PEW. PEW.

Captain: You know what? Okay *draws it* But it’s just for holding, not for shooting.

___

Mack: *standing on a chair* The floor is lava!

Burt: *helps other crew members onto the counter*

Gunther: *shoots the floor while jumping up and down*

Wug: *practically latches onto the ceiling*

Engineer Mark and Celci: *trying to shove each other off the sofa*

Captain: *lays on the floor*

Mack: . . .Captain, are you okay?

Captain: No.

___

Gunther: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost in your life.

Burt: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back. . .

Bandit and Celci: Oh, wow! My childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this!

Engineer Mark: My will to live! I haven’t seen this in years!

Wug: Wug knew Wug left that potential somewhere!

Captain: Mental stability, my old friend!

Gunther: Jesus, you guys need to lighten up already

___

Engineer Mark: Is it still visible? Where Celci slapped me?

Mack: Your face looks like a “Don’t Walk” signal

Burt: Your face looks like a photo negative for the Hamburger Helper mascot.

Bandit: A palm reader could tell Celci’s future by looking at your face.

Gunther: The phrase, “Talk to the hand cuz’ the face ain’t listenin’” doesn’t work for you right now, because the hand is your face.

Engineer Mark: . . .A simple “yes” would’ve sufficed.

___

Gunther: If you put “violently” in front of everything to describe your action, it becomes funnier!

Celci: Violently studies

Burt: Violently sleeps

Wug: Violently orders food

Captain: Violently slips into existential crisis over an endless cycle of increasingly-specific choices offered by too many timelines to keep track of, because APPARENTLY life wasn’t already meaningless enough. 

Captain: Oh, and violently succumbs to depression and madness due to possibility of killing innocent people because another version of you decided to use boredom and curiosity as an excuse to stop caring about basic morality.

Everyone: . . .

Engineer Mark: Violently worries about the previous statement

___

Captain: *dies*

Narrator: Timer starts now! When are they coming bacK? I say two months!

Eldritch Plier: Bullshit. One month.

Bandit: Nah, half a month

Literally everyone else on the Invincible II: *sobbing* WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! THE CAPTAIN JUST DIED!

Engineer Mark: *scratching his chin in thought* One week.

___

Captain: The Bandit kissed me!

Engineer Mark: *slack-jawed, eyes twitching* Oh my God.

Captain: *completely oblivious* It was unbelievable!

Engineer Mark: *getting noticeably choked-up* Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God—

Celci: Okay, we wanna hear everything. Mark, get the wine and unplug the phone. 

Mack: Captain, does this end well, or do we need tissues?

Captain: Oh, it ended very well.

Engineer Mark: *gritting his teeth and blinking back tears* Do not start without me. . .

Celci: Alright, let’s hear about the kiss. Was it a soft brush against your lips, or was it like a, y’know, “I gotta have you now” kind of thing?

Captain: Well, at first it was really intense, y’know? And then, oh God, and then we just sort of sunk into it.

Mack: Ohh. . .So, okay, was she holding you? Or were her hands on your back?

Captain: First she started out on my waist, and then her hands slipped up and then were in my hair.

Celci and Mack: Ohhh.

[Meanwhile, elsewhere on the Invincible II]

Bandit: *eating some glowing alien pizza from the intergalactic fast food place* And, uh. . .then I kissed them.

Wug: Tongue?

Bandit: Yeah.

Wug: Cool.

___

Allu: Wow, they look like a real handful. How do you deal with them?

Captain, watching Gunther screaming at nothing, Engineer Mark trying to set a sleeping Celci on fire, and Burt choking on air: I don’t know either.

___

Captain: What if the person who named Walkie-Talkies named everything?

Gunther: Pregnancy tests would be Maybe-Babies

Engineer Mark: Socks would be Feetie-Heaties

Bandit: Defibrillators would be Heartie-Starties

Wug: Nightmares would be Dreamy-Screamies

Burt: Stamps would be Lickie-Stickies

Celci: I hate you guys so much.

___

Mack: *teleports behind The Captian* I like ya cut, G

Mack: *dropkicks The Captain into the dungeon*

[SLAP]

[ktheist]

saving grace | 4

muses. duke!yoongi x lady!reader

universe. arranged marriage / minor traces of magic in history

concept. driven into a corner with the new king, seokjin, offering to marry you off to a prince in a foreign land and a persistent mother who would seize the chance of a lucrative marriage for her daughter, you’re forced with the only other option to secure your freedom ‒ enter into a beneficial agreement with the man who reaped the seeds of war, the duke of cralon, yoongi min.

words. 6.2k

warnings. mentions of war, it’s cliche and cheesy all in one package

index. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / finale

x

isabelle armwell is not present.

naturally so, showing up here would only intensify the naturally main topic of the conversation today - baron armwell’s heinous crimes that’d come to light after his daughter came up and confessed everything to the authorities. some days after your visit to the royal palace, you’d invited isabelle to shop for the dress you’d be wearing for the engagement party.

it wouldn’t look suspicious if you take more time than necessary in the fitting room. somewhere in the corner of your heart, you cursed yourself for becoming exactly like the ladies you claim repulsed you. and yet with a smile on your face, you wave to isabelle before stepping through the room, leaving her alone to wait for you.

but by the time you came out, she was already gone. the staff recounted the disheveled condition she’d left in after having a chat with a customer who’d left without buying anything.

“she must have felt sick after that and decided to leave immediately,” the manager, who wasn’t there to witness it because she was helping you change, deduces.

“perhaps,” not allowing your conflicted feelings show, you agreed with a pitiful smile and excused yourself for the day, saying you’re far too worried about your friend to pick a dress today.

a week after that, baron armwell had been arrested for not only theft but further investigation showed that he’d been involved with tax evasion, bribery and so much more that the same exact people who are criticizing the barn, are doing behind closed doors.

“can you believe how brave lady isabelle had to be to confess to her father’s crimes?” irene’s striking emerald eyes matches the ribbon tied around her light brown curls as well as her unconstrained envy for ranks.

there are only two noble ladies from a baron family, namely her and isabelle that are active in social gatherings as of late. while she praises irene, she also laughs at the situation the blonde woman is facing.

“you’ve always been close with isabelle, lady ___, did you know?” krystal’s cat-like stare searches for a fault in your response but unlike when you’re with a certain crimson eyed man, you manage to smooth out your expression into a regretful smile.

“did we seem so?” a hand clasps over your lips, “i wish we were close enough for her to confide her problems with me but, alas, she’d be suffering on her own this whole time.”

and with that, the silence lapses between you and the two ladies while the round of hooves against the ground and wheels rolling echoes from the front. the guests are still pouring in and yoongi, having been swamped with the additional charges against baron armwell, has been cooped up inside his office. you wonder if he’ll manage to show up at all.

“m-my, lady ___, you’re so kind to worry about lady isabelle even on the brink of your engagement party.” irene tries again, the angle of her smile now positioned awkwardly after you declared your support for isabelle.

after her disappearance, you’d sent her two letters. one, inquiring her of her well being as a friend - an undeserving one at that. the other one being the invitation of your garden party three days apart. her written reply, as expected, appeared as if nothing was wrong but the news blew up in a matter of hours after the winter knights bearing the crown’s warrant began pouring into the armwell residence and their warehouses.

“who would have thought lady ___ would harbor such amicable feelings for the daughter of baron armwell?” the smile that adorns krystal’s face doesn’t match her icy stare.

perhaps it’s the emphasis of isabelle being baron armwell, a loyal supporter of the aristocrat faction - it’s much easier to persuade a family of the royal faction than the noble’s even though the odds are lower than when the crown was succeeded peacefully. or perhaps it’s the due reminder that she, a marquis’ daughter, still ranks higher than you, a mere count’s daughter regardless of who your future marriage prospect is.

whatever it is, it doesn’t seem like she’s acting as part of seokjin’s vassal, “i think it’s important to separate emotions from business matters. the matter of the which side the armwells are on and whether isabelle deserves the credit for stepping up and confessing to her father’s crimes are entirely different matters.”

the woman’s cat-like gaze remains impassive, “but i suppose i don’t need a trip to the optometrist to see that one wears her loyalty like clothes these days.”

the silence that lapses after you’ve finished your words is presses down on your throat with its invisible hands. irene’s paling complexion, as she looks between you and krystal, is enough enough to tell you that the elephant might be bigger than you thought it’d be.

“lady ___, you look as splendid as the roses that bloom in the duke’s garden.” count henry approaches, only bowing in greeting after having praise you with his famous empty words. he’s the only few young nobles who’s succeeded the title from his father.

“thank you, count henry, but the credit goes to the gardener and his grace - i’d only started admiring them just recently myself,” you gladly welcome the new comer, turning your full attention to him.

“oh yes, as the future lady of the house, are you going to make changes to the garden and hold more gatherings? i’d be the most blessed man on earth if i could see you - i men the roses in their full bloom next year as well,” his dream like eyes widens with excitement while not failing to compliment you.

“thank you, you’re very generous with your praises, marquis,” is all you force out, unwilling to go down this praise littered path any longer than you should.

as though the planets and the stars align, whispers begin to spread among the guests. some gazes at something behind you with the same stars that shines its luck on you, some observing the object of fascination with care.

“___, apologies for arriving late to our own garden party,” yoongi’s uncharacteristically suave smile enters your view whilst you slip your hand in the one he has extended midair.

“don’t worry, you’re just in time,” at the sight of his crimson eyes watching you through this lashes as he presses his lips to your gloved knuckles, you can’t help but replay the events that transpired within the closed door of your mother’s parlor.

it was nothing and everything you’d imagined a proposal from yoongi could be. whilst the extravagance of best tailored dresses and perfectly cut diamonds were taking up every possible space in the main parlor, yoongi had pulled out a simple cerulean diamond encrusted ring and slipped it on your finger, kissing it right after - a seal of promise to love and to cherish.

you didn’t need to ask to know that it was a perfectly cut piece from the siren’s heart. its much larger counterpart being showcased somewhere in the main parlor.

“i-i see,” your voice shook and your cheeks felt like summer came early and for some reason, yoongi let out a brieft chuckle before he slipped a hand underneath yours and kissed it, murmuring, “you’re not against it and that’s good enough for now.”

“looks like i’ve missed the fun,” the breath that fans the shell of your skin brings you out of your thoughts as he whispers lowly, eyes boring into yours instead of taking notice of the peering gazes.

having spent most of his time winning wars, yoongi’s never truly attended any social gatherings. this would be his first in a long time and yet he’s already caught onto the shimmering heat that hangs over the air after your and krystal’s conversation.

but more than that, you’ve only ever seen him in dark colors with unmanageable hair that brushes against the top of his eyebrows and sometimes almost serves to hide his eyes if he’d just lowered his head. but today, his hair is sleeked back and he’s decked in a pristine white suit and deep crimson undershirt that highlights his eyes as well as the dragons and silver shield engraved in the back of the cape that’s attached to his shoulders and flows down until inches from his ankles.

“there’s more where that came from,” you offhandedly remark, concealing a small sigh at the thought of the draining battle that will ensue.

“greetings your grace, i’m henry from the house of lau. it’s an honor to make your acquaintance.” the easy smile that slips onto henry’s features tells you he’s shifted from being a lecherous casanova to a diplomatic marquis.

“marquis henry,” yoongi acknowledges, his hand snaking around your waist and pulling you closer until your back presses against his front, “i saw you, lady irene and lady krystal keeping my fiance company, thank you.”

the young marquis’ flinch is skillfully hid by his smooth chuckle, muttering a generic recount of the conversation about the roses before offering to walk with the other two ladies, leaving you alone with yoongi.

“h-how much did you hear?” the schooled smile on your face wavers as you avoid the duke’s naturally intense gaze.

“enough to know i won’t be having any problems buying the whole of the lau family’s mines,” the charming smile on his devastatingly handsome features is tinted with a sure promise as the hand on your lower back pulls you closer, your chests almost brushing.

forcing out a chuckle, you calmly placate, “but wouldn’t that be counterproductive since seokjin affirmed that he’s part of his majesty’s faction?”

“i’ll find someone to replace him,” he cocks his head to the side, eyes disappearing behind his lashes as his smile stretches wider.

“i see,” your shoulder line falls as you mentally bid good luck to henry before catching sight of a group of noblewomen and men huddled together adjacent to you with fans hiding their faces whilst they steal glances your way.

“your grace,” with and hand on yoongi’s chest and heated cheeks, you light push him only for him to raise an inquisitive eyebrow, “people are watching.”

but when his lips curl into a smirk, the beating organ encased within your chest drops to the ground, “and?”

before a series of protests manages to leave your lips, you find yourself staring into a pair of molten rubies before your eyes flutter shut as a familiar pair of lips lands on your forehead. your hand balls into a fist in front of your chest, trying to suppress your palpitating heart as the seconds stretch on and everything begins to fade into white noise.

...until the sound of someone clearing their throat brings you back to the canopy filled garden. “master. madam. all the guests have arrived.”

“alright, thank you jackson,” yoongi nods at the butler as though he didn’t just exhibited an act of affection that should have been shared between only the two of you privately.

you dread the forthcoming headache that’ll be knocking on your temples at the thought of rumors of the nature of you and yoongi’s relationship, spreading like wildfire.

“madam...” the butler trails off, head lowered at you as though pleading for something, “the master doesn’t like drawing attention to himself even though it is the min residence that the party is held at...”

“you don’t say,” side eyeing man in question that, out of all times, happen to be glancing at the sky,  you doubt its sapphire hues are any more worth gazing than yesterday, “very well, i’ll announce the commencement of the party.”

“thank you, madam,” jackson dips briefly before walking away to stand with the valet and head maid a few feet away.

a soft breeze blows past the roofless area. though smaller compared to the garden in the palace, it’s still the size of half of your mention with its perfectly trimmed rose bed in the middle that’s half your height and makes up a maze where a fountain lies, rimmed with a deeper shade of rosebeds.

an even with the maze, at the heart of the garden, area between it and the mansion is still large enough to fit five tables with five chairs at each table scattered around the pavilion where you come to stand, hand around yoongi’s arms.

“ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. i hope you all enjoy yourselves today,” looking up to see those crimson eyes staring back at you, a smile slips onto your lips as you turn to the guests, “we trust his majesty has sent invitations to our engagement party to every family representative to those who are present and we hope to see you all there in a fortnight.”

x

the garden party drags on for hours with words as swords and superficial smiles as shields. as they get into the argument about seokjin’s rule, it isn’t hard to pick out the weeds that grow over the year after seokjin ascended the throne.

“to have completely disregard the nobles for a whole year, his majesty is a brave one.” count vernon’s lighthearted chuckle does not match his contemptuous remark.

“yes but, it’s not his majesty that we should be worried about, is it?” krystal’s question brings about a series of murmurs. of course, the question of your family’s stance must have been lingering on their minds even though your hosting and indulging the upcoming party should be answer enough.

“ah, i heard lady ___ and his majesty are quite close,” henry snaps his fingers, eyes shimmering with a recollection, “he used to summon you frequently back then, you know, before you and the duke got engaged. if you had any weakness, it’d be your beauty for having caught both the eyes of his majesty and the duke at the same time.”

at that, all eyes turn to you though some narrow their eyes at the marquis’ cheap tricks. suppressing the bile rising from your throat, you fix the beaming man with your own smile, “as you know, his majesty had just ascended the throne and asked for house ___’s advice on the matters at hand. my father was originally supposed to go but since the drought, he’s been required to ride to our estate and help the people there so i took over his job for him.”

glancing at the silver haired man whose lips twitch with humor at your feigned smile, “as for yoongi, when we met, it was like first love!”

whilst most of the ladies who are likely part of seokjin’s faction swoons at the way yoongi returns your smile. you barely notice the question thrown by one of the ladies to yoongi, “how was it for your grace when you met lady ___?”

a playful glint shines in his eyes as he chuckles, “when we first met, i remember thinking ‘this isn’t really happening, right?’” though those words hold a completely different meaning, the guests doesn’t seem to think it anything less than a romantic love-at-first sight kind of scenario as they murmur to each other and lament about their own first encounter with their partners. those who aren’t yet married or announced their relationship sending their wishes to the goddess to grant them something akin to your love story.

“your grace,” count jimin’s voice cuts through the air and silencing the crowd, striking hazel eyes boring into the silver haired man’s, “do you not feel betrayed? after coming home and bringing victory to king who severed the head of the one you sworn to serve?”

a pause lapses over the table as the question hangs in the air like a dark cloud. most of the nobles have reverted their gaze from you and yoongi as though looking at him would have caused their lives. you don’t have to crane your neck to know how piercing those deep rubies are.

“home,” a gravelly voice scoffs, “when i came back from the war, all i could hear was the people on the streets talking about how the cuts that were visible on my body could’ve been deeper so i’d die. how my cursed bloodline would doom the kingdom.” the man leans his elbow on the armrest, cheek leaned against his knuckles as his gaze fleets over the count, “it’s the same whoever i serve but at least the current king has improved the lives of the people by a large scale compared to that dim-witted uncle of mine and the rest of his supporters that roll around in the money they got from forcing such high rate taxes over their people.”

count jimin’s dry laugh echoes around the table, “those are serious accusations, i hope you have proof to support them, your grace, otherwise it’d be considered slander to all the noble houses present.”

“indeed it would be a grave insult,” you cover yoongi’s free hand that’s threatening to break the wooden structure of the armrest, relief flooding your system when it relaxes under your touch just the slightest bit whilst curious eyes peer at you, waiting on the edge of their seats for what you’re tying to get to, “only if it’s untrue. so how about a challenge for each house’s territory? his grace may conduct inspections on the park family’s territory and if his grace finds no fault in under the count’s rule, then the count will obtain the port to make up for the slander but if his grace’s words prove to be true, then the arable field belonging to the park family will go be part of the dukedom.”

“that’s ridiculous! his grace is the one who should present evidence before running his mouth.” the elder man’s face contorts with anger, nose flaring as he slams a hand on the table and sending his drink spilling over the fuchsia tablecloth.

you gesture for one of the maids to take away the spilled cup of tea before cocking your head to the side as though in deep thought, “count jimin, why are you getting mad? if what his grace says is a mere hoax, then you’ll be getting the iyesgarth port along with the rights to collect taxes... unless, you have something to hide?”

the maid returns with a new set of teacup, placing it in front of the silently trembling man and pouring newly brewed tea into it.

“i-i like lady ___’s suggestion,” lady irene’s timid voice warrants a turn of heads but despite the sudden attention, she still manages to deliver her reasoning, “both contribute significantly to the economy of the kingdom. if i’m being honest, the port is too good of a bargain to be given up easily.”

the stiff movements of several nobles as they stir their tea or reach for the delicacies laid out in front of them, is telling enough who they choose to push as their scapegoat.

“lady ___ didn’t you say to separate feelings from business matters? isn’t suggesting such challenge proves that you’re acting on your emotions because of count jimin’s rudeness?” you doubt that krystal’s question has anything to do with shifting the spotlight from the deathly silent count jimin than it does with challenging your judgement, “furthermore, you went ahead of yourself and didn’t ask for his grace’s take on this.”

you don’t miss the wide-eyed gazes coming from the nobles at the uncharacteristic chuckle that falls out of yoongi’s lips before he simply announces, “isn’t that a given? ___ and i are to be wed, consider whatever lady ___ say to be my own words from now on. i agree with giving up the port in the event that i’d baselessly besmirched the park family name.”

“f-fine, i agree to that arrangement.” count jimin finally declares, burning with pride and dignity that he’ll soon learn are fragile little things.

“great, the inspection will begin two days from now,” your lips curve, delighted at the conclusion of the ordeal, “it’s better to get this settled than drag this suffocating atmosphere to the engagement party, i would hate to have such a momentous day to be defiled with unsolved bad blood.”

the count opens his mouth as though the words of protest are a second away from falling off his tongue but after five solid seconds pass, the man clamps his lips shut and turns away. for the rest of the afternoon, nothing as strenuous as transpires.

those who attended are with their own reasons - whether to satisfy their own curiosity, to build connections or to simply witness for themselves the duke and future duchess’ stance in politics. either way, it concluded peacefully with the nobles from seokjin’s faction expressing their wish to see you more at parties and be invited to the ones you’ll hold in the future.

though you did not lift a finger, the duty to clean up naturally becomes yours as you oversee the process until the table clothes are folded, teacups and teapots stacked and delivered to the washing room whilst the tables and chairs are stored in the building separate from the main mansion.

yoongi disappeared as soon as the last five guests boarded their carriage. granted, there must have been a lot of paperwork and reports he’s supposed to get done. you wonder how he’s managed to squeeze you in his busy schedule when you barely knew each other.

the hand that hovers inches from the door to his office freezes at the deep voice that flows from the gap between the doors, “you don’t have to knock.”

“so it’s true that you have heightened hearing,” pushing the door open and stepping through it, you assert.

“it gets annoying sometimes, especially when i wake to the sound of the servants shuffling somewhere in the-.” the man hums in affirmation as he leans back. his usually towering frame appearing miniature surrounded by stacks of paper on both sides of his desk, the space in the middle being reserved for him to write on, “-not there.”

with lift eyebrows you meet the man’s crimson gaze, questioning why he suddenly stopped talking and how he has the nerve to forbid you from taking a seat on one of the sets of sofas in the middle of his office. whatever expression you must be making must have been the reason for his sudden retraction, “i mean, could you please come here?”

there isn’t any chair anywhere near his table but you get up anyway, heels clicking against the wooden flooring before stopping in front of him only to have man’s brows furrow with conflict. so you walk the extra distance around his table, your own features flashing is confusion,“why are you-”

but before you can even get the whole question out, a yelp escapes your mouth as the fingers that curl around your wrist yanks you forward. your fall into his lap may have been unceremonious as you reach out to grasp onto something for stability and that something just so happen to be his well built shoulders but he doesn’t seem to care. the muscles ripple underneath your touch as he hoist you closer as to not let you fall off sideways.

the heat spreads all over your body like poisonous smoke, sending your heart lurching into your throat as you bare yourself in those deep crimson eyes yet for some reason, you manage to push out a barely stable vocal, “i hardly think this is an appropriate position to be caught in.”

“the servants know not to bother me when i’m working.” the sight of his lips curling into a teasing smile now feels familiar, like the alleviated feeling of coming home after spending weeks at the capital for a mere ball.

“then i shouldn’t bother you either.”

“you’re allowed to. i give you my permission.”

“thank you, i’m honored.” you’ve only realize now that the chuckle from the garden party and now are no different. except the quietness just after the fall of the sun allows you to pick up on the adoration that wraps around his voice.

letting out a soft sigh, you suppose you don’t entirely dislike being held like a child like this.

“by the way, you didn’t have to go as far as gifting me a whole fertile land.” he says after the traces of humor disappear into the air but the lightness of the atmosphere engulfs you like a blanket.

preparations for the inspection has been commenced, the day after tomorrow, yoongi will ride with his men and arrive some time in the evening at count park’s territory with the help of a magical shortcut maintained by the wizard guild which are of close relations with the min family. despite the two day window, you’ve already got the necessary information about almost all the nobles’ activities, including count park’s. all yoongi needs to do is move in the direction you point: the missing daughter of a recently deceased baron that owned 1/8 of the land at stake as well as the territory’s reputation for the highest death rate ever recorded in the kingdom.

“shush,” you wave a dismissive hand - the same hand that bears a deep red diamond on its ring finger, “that’s the least i could do after you gave me the siren’s heart.”

“you should have picked some of the necklaces and bracelets as well,” he means from the boxes and boxes filled with sparkling jewelry that he sent along with the siren’s heart.

your mother had no qualms salivating over each content of the box until you instruct for whitlace’s representative to take it back, saying ‘i’ll explain to the duke’ when the man’s face pales at the lack of jewelry picked.

“i already have plenty,” you announce. having already explained your reason for declining such lucrative gifts - most of them decrease in value over the years unless it’s rare gems or gold or private property.

“that won’t do,” his ungloved fingerpads feel callous against your skin yet comforting as he traces it over the diamond encrusted ring, “what if i’m called stingy because my duchess isn’t wearing any accessories?”

“whoever that is must have a lot of time on their hand.”

“shall we acquire the territory of anyone who speaks ill of the duchess of cralon?”

at that, you burst out laughing. perhaps, it’s the way he proposes such idea - as though it’s as easy as stealing candy from a child. perhaps, it’s the underlying promise to go through such deeds if someone dares to insult you. perhaps it’s the delicate crimson gaze that’s looking at you as though he wants to take this moment and frame it in his memories.

the faintest of smile makes its way to yoongi’s lips as he leans into your palm -  his skin is as soft as it appears to be. you fear it’ll end up bruising under your touch. his own hand slips under your hand, callous fingers tracing your jawline. just like moth drawn to flame, you find yourself leaning down, eyes glazing over the pink lips but before you even manage to have a taste of sweet sacrilege, the the sound of the door swinging open echoes throughout the room.

x

“master,” jackson’s bows briefly, a tray of letter in one hand, “the countess sent a letter to the madam.”

“i-i see, is the carriage here?” you make an attempt to hop off the man, smile pointing in an awkward angle before realizing the tightened grip around your waist.

yoongi meets your hard stare nonchalantly, even having the nerve to raise an inquisitive eyebrow as to why you’re moving away until he relents, a sigh escaping his lips before his arms fall away from you.

“that... the countess sent the letter through a maid,” the butler stops in front of the desk, dark brown eyes fleeting over to the fireplace and then the shadows that its makes and then his polished shoes - anywhere except your eyes.

since you’ve sent one of yoongi’s footmen to notify your family coachman a few hours ago, you figured that’s how the letter was delivered. yet you don’t pry, butlers are often put in difficult positions due to their masters, “thank you, jackson,”

with that, you go to stand directly in front of the window for better lighting to read your mother’s undoubted cursive writing whilst trying your hardest to ignore the heat of yoongi’s body as he not-so-secretly reads over your shoulder.

dear daughter, i sent felix to run some errands. he won’t be available until tomorrow noon. i’m afraid you’ll have to spend the night at the duke residence. but fret not, i sent the leslie to help you with anything you need. plus, she’ll have to familiarize herself with the mansion once you get married anyway!

the ghost of a delighted laugh that belongs to your mother rings in your ear as your mind conjures a picture of her sitting at the maple desk gifted by your father some years ago, a plotting smile on her lips.

“jackson,” yoongi voice drums a second after your eyes fleet across the exclamation mark, “prepare a room for ___, looks like the coachman of the ___ family can’t come.”

“th-that won’t be necessary,” with a hand on the duke’s chest to capture his attention and prevent him from making any rash decisions, you quickly say, “i think leslie might’ve come with the sevant’s carriage.”

“miss leslie came by foot.” jackson informs.

“th-then the min house’s carriage...” you trail off with the last ray of hope only to catch the butler’s eyes glazing over something behind you before breaking into cold sweat.

“d-dylan has caught a cold so i sent him home for the night.”

twirling on your heels, the ominous stare that does a 180 into an uncharacteristically innocent smile does not go past you. the stare down seems to stretch on for hours, you with your stern gaze and yoongi with his unrelenting smile, until you find yourself letting out a sigh, eyes averting to the writings on the paper scattered on his desk out of the sheer need to not get swayed any further than you already are.

“very well, thank you for ha-”

at the words of affirmation to stay, yoongi speaks over you hurriedly as though stamping a seal to a deal and rendering you unable to backtrack and come up with a new idea on how to get home, “jackson, prepare my mother’s room.”

his late mother’s room would mean the predecessors of the duchy. you’d eventually have to move into the late duchess’ room as yoongi did with the late duke’s room but you’re not yet married and nothing close to having the title of duchess-

“yoongi, perhaps an ordinary guest room-”

“it’s either that,” his breath fans your ears as he leans dangerously close to your face, “or my room. your pick, my lady.”

the heat comes back full force, like flames burning your entire body and sending your heart palpitating wildly in your chest. with one step backwards and a robotic twirl towards the door, you announce, “jackson, please show my the way to the late duchess’ room,” as the silhouette of the man clasping a hand over his mouth as muted chuckles fill the air before you walk through the door pulls on your heartstrings.

x

the duchess’ room had been decorated with muted but calming tones. pristine white furniture complements the dusty peach walls and chandeliers that hung in the ceiling like diamonds. the bed, encased by a material like fine satin in the shade of pink but considerably lighter than the fuschia skies at dawn, could have been jackson’s choosing. but the interior designs couldn’t have been easily altered from its previous dweller’s touch. it was only three months ago that you’d met yoongi, and it’d take more than one or two months to get a renovation done even if yoongi wanted to surprise you with your new room.

it was a complete contrast to the darker interior of the mansion that sought a more sophisticated design with minimally furnished rooms and garnet curtains that were drawn apart to let sunlight pour over the wooden flooring and creme colored walls.

even if yoongi is the master of the mansion, you couldn’t sense a touch of him within those walls. it was almost as though he was but a ghost that resided mostly in the studies book shelves took up the entire walls on both sides adjacent to the door. and even with all that space to himself, the space between deep brown settee sets perched in the middle of room and his desk had painted an invisible line between him and the whole mansion. as though his only space was somewhere behind the desk and the spot where the sunlight poured graciously behind him.

and as you stared into the darkness after the lights were turned off, you wondered if yoongi had ever felt the warmth of a home. all of a sudden, a sense of emptiness crept into the crevices of your heart at the thought of having all the luxuries and adoration one could ever ask for but at the end of the day, coming back to long winded hallways and beckoning shadows.

so when he’d walked into the dining room that morning, you’d hoped he’d at least remember breakfast with you to be more than just deep garnet curtains, long table and empty chairs.

the vapor hovering of your teacup dissipates with the softest gush of wind but your main concern is the hem of your skirt fluttering around your ankle, almost threatening to send you flying.

your lips draw into a frown as your eyes flutter, prettily made hair starting to turn unruly.

“you have the worst luck with winds, ___.” when the gush ceases, you find yourself studying the towering figure that’s pulling the chair across from you to your side, his knee bumping into yours when he takes a seat. the swaying blades of grass and leaves surrounding the pavilion does not go unnoticed by you.

“yoongi,” the name tastes like your favorite candy on your tongue, “i thought it’s a perfect day to have breakfast outdoors.”

his damp hair appears a deep shade grey, fringes that would usually brush over eyebrows now almost concealing his crimson eyes. he’s donned in his black and yellow uniform, possibly to report his departure to count jimin’s territory to seokjin.

“i’m not saying i dislike this though,” he brings the teacup filled by jackson at his arrival, to his curving lips.

at that, you can’t help but let your own smile slip onto your lips, “i slept well last night.”

a flash of something you can’t pinpoint crosses those crimson eyes, “as you should. everything in that room will be yours - no, they already are.”

“if you keep saying that i might be inclined to give you another piece of land,” you pop a miniature cheese tart into your mouth, the sheer sweet and creamy taste melding together on your tongue.

“and i thought it was just me who’d want to spoil you with all the luxuries in the world.” the faint smile seems more apparent under the sunlight as his pink lips take on a lighter shade whilst last night’s events flood your memory like a broken tap-

“can’t i go with you?” the question tumbles out of your mouth much sooner than you plan it. but if you’re talking about planing, you were definitely envisioning asserting yourself as part of his inspection team.

“that’ll shift the suspicion to you if you’re seen aiding me,” his crimson eyes almost appear pink when they glaze over you, “they might even go as far as saying everything was planned out from the beginning by the duke and future duchess.”

“i know you were going to say that,” you lean back against the chair, shoulder line sagging at the dead weight of having to survive without yoongi for at least five days until he returns. and as you know many things, you both see his success in proving count jimin’s unspeakable deeds.

breakfast goes on with reminders of the key vassals yoongi is supposed to look for. count jimin may have owned a majority of the land but not the entire granary. there are two other nobles who are in charge of overseeing the work put into sowing and harvesting the crops but one had passed away last summer and his only son had been missing since while the other hasn’t appeared in public for a whole year. despite the rising death rates among the villagers, it could have easily been brushed off as a natural cause - it always had to be some tragedy falling upon someone of noble blood to allow for such inspections. otherwise, the opposing factions would band together in a circle just to protect their own.

but when an unsuspecting inspection is made in the name of one’s honor, not many dare to challenge its grounds. as though one’s title is worth more than the increasing rate of lives lost under the count’s reign.

“well, i suppose i have things to settle myself,” you murmur mindlessly before taking a sip of the green tea you asked leslie to prepare.

a chuckle escapes your lips when the duke doesn’t say anything yet lulls his head to the side in wonder.

“i think i found a bride candidate for seokjin.” you confess.

“a bride, you say?” yoongi blinks, those crimson eyes piercing with confusion.

“for now, i don’t have enough information to be sure but lady krystal is the person i have in mind.” when the man continues to stare, as though expecting you to at least mention which house krystal belonged to, you can’t help but let bubbles of laughter trickle from your lips. “she’s the one with stunning cat-like eyes and light brown hair from yesterday.”

“did she not try to challenge you openly?” the twitch in yoongi’s eye is enough to tell you he’s bothered by your decision but not as against it as he should be because he trusts your judgement.

“rather than that...” the image of krystal’s indifferent gaze burns at the back of your mind, “she stands on her own and doesn’t sputter out empty praises just to get on my good side. she’s also ambitious and far from a pushover.”

it is a second later, after what seems like a deep mull, that yoongi allows his free hand to ruffle the back of his head as a sigh leaves his lips, “if you say so, then i believe you.”

the sight is almost endearing if not for the effects he has on your heart, yet you till manage to chuckle to yourself over the irony of the circumstances, “have i ever been wrong?”

x

note. and there goes another chapter for saving grace! hope you guys enjoyed it!!

taglist. @ayujmi​ @fanfuckingfic​ @deathkat657​

[thehighlandhealer]

Trick or Treat, Cont. || Charleson, Bronwyn, Lirim, Aedan, Rory, & Cynthia || October, 2020

Lirim: Lirim tossed his phone onto the table, smiling apologetically at his son. Their first outing with Charles. His first, that is. Bronwyn was another story.

"He said five's fine," Lirim called to Bronwyn. Paint was much more manageable than makeup, in his opinion. His son's whiskers, made of his mother's eyeshadow, would survive the next few hours. Aedan wouldn't care or much notice. His ears were free. When was he going to develop a tail?

Bronwyn: “Five it is!” Bronwyn called back. She was deep in her makeup drawer looking for a tube of eyeliner that seemed to have disappeared. “Why didn’t I draw the whiskers on with eyeliner, they’re goin’ to smudge. Oh! Marie and Lydia have asked us to stop by their houses. No one in this city will have better treats.”

Lirim: "You won't go touchin' your face, will ya, Aedan? Some settin' spray and you're ready to hit the town."

Lirim perked, looked over the mass that was his son's curly hair. "Oh really? Haven't seen them in ages." He hadn't seen much of anyone outside of the art gallery, so no surprise.

A thought occurred to him. Shit. "Guess that means I'm seein' Mason again."

Bronwyn: “Aye, darlin’, it does. Ha!” She returned to the room a few moments later with the eyeliner and her setting spray. “But don’t worry, ev’ryone will be on their best behavior. Includin’ him.”

Lirim/Aedan: Xavier's uplifting words rang in his memory as reminder. He didn't have to be afraid of him. Not anymore. Just confounding that anyone spent any amount of time with that demon.

He didn't have room to judge, considering his favorite Atlas, but he would.

Aedan was about having his fill of this face touching. The squirming had begun.

"Patience, puppers!"

Bronwyn: “I’m almost done, lovey.” Bronwyn made quick work of touching up Aedan’s whiskers before telling him to close his eyes for the setting spray. “There, all done!”

Lirim: "Ya know he's gonna have a fit when ya try and take that off." Oh well. It was just one night. His son was certainly no artist, putting up with the smell of makeup was easier than paint, and it was for a good cause. He didn't have whiskers and he wanted them.

"Alright, Toto, all done. Ready to meet Dorothy?"

Bronwyn/Aedan: “It won’t be so bad. Just one wee little makeup wipe and it’ll come right off.”

Aedan gave his mother a skeptical look but the excitement over the candy he would soon have won out.

“Yeah!”

Lirim/Aedan: "I shoulda gone as the Big Bad Wolf, Miss Riding Hood."

"Wolves are good!"

And Aedan wouldn't hear otherwise. "You're absolutely right. He just had an image issue." Bronwyn was given a look.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn smiled and nodded. “Absolutely. An image issue and questionable manners. Daddy should’ve gone as the Big Good Wolf.” That last added with a teasing look.

Lirim/Aedan: His parents were given a look. The look of a child aware but unable to articulate. Instead, going on about how he wanted a candy apple on a stick.

"You got it, Toto."

Bronwyn: “I think—and I’m no’ positive or anythin’—but I’m pretty sure Auntie Lydia is makin’ candy apples with red caramel.”

Lirim/Aedan: Aedan's eyes couldn't have been brighter.

"Oh boy, Toto's gonna need a leash."

And off their son ran across the house screaming.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn laughed. “Oh, aye. I probably shouldn’t tell him there are also goin’ to be cookies.”

Lirim: "Shhh. He'll be in a sugar coma before eight."

Bronwyn: “Eight?” she chuckled. “Aren’t we bein’ optimistic. My money’s on seven.”

Lirim: "That's better than eight. What ya wanna bet?"

Bronwyn: “Hmmm...” She tapped her chin. “Dinner.”

Lirim: "What ya want?"

Bronwyn: “Shrimp and grits with an ungodly amount of cheese.”

Lirim: "Homemade or restaurant?"

Bronwyn: “Homemade. What do ye want if ye win?”

Lirim: "I want... to paint you."

Bronwyn: “Paint me or paint me?”

Lirim: "I mean paint on your body in my studio."

Bronwyn: “It’s a bet. What do ye want to turn me into?”

Lirim: "We'll have to see. Been a long time."

Bronwyn: “Aye, it has.” She smiled and kissed Lirim’s cheek. “Ye can turn me into anythin’ ye like.”

Lirim: "Maybe I've some ideas. In the nude, of course."

Bronwyn: “Well that goes without sayin’. What’s a little nudity after ye’ve impregnated someone.”

Lirim: "Oh?" He laughed. "Speakin' of 'fore I get ahead of myself, how's the Viking?"

Bronwyn: “Still tall, stoic, and handsome. He got a kick out o’ my costume.”

Lirim: "They don't do Halloween in Iceland?"

Bronwyn: “Iceland kind of does a wee, Torsten doesn’t do it at all.”

Lirim: "Makes sense, I guess." Lirim looked in the direction of their son. "And he's good with Aedan?" Hundredth time asking. "He should... be here. He's gonna have a lot more Halloweens."

Bronwyn: She nodded. “Aye, he’s good with Aedan. I asked him to come with us but he’s in Iceland at the moment, takin’ care of some family business.”

Lirim: "Do ya want Aedan to call him dad?"

Bronwyn: “I want Aedan to call him whatever feels right to him.”

Lirim: "Ya'd think I'd be used to it. I mean he already -" He'd stop right there. "Anyway, Charles should be here any minute."

Bronwyn: She kissed his cheek again. “I love ye, Lirim Vivaldi. Ye know that? There’s no timeline on gettin’ used to it.”

Lirim: "Love ya too, Mama B. Ya know he calls ya that when we're alone? Totally picked it up from Lucien I know it."

Bronwyn: “He does?” Bronwyn positively melted at the sweetness of it all. “That’s adorable! And he absolutely did and I’m no’ surprised at all. I love bein’ Mama B.”

Lirim: "He asked about Lucien a few days ago. Didn't realize how often they were together."

Bronwyn: “Aye, the magic of teleportation. I’ve been wantin’ to learn it, I feel bad havin’ Vincent go back and forth so often.”

Lirim: "Can't be easy. I mean, that's why it belongs to familiars, and... demons."

Bronwyn: “Ye’re right. Avalbane is over three hundred and she can’t do it.”

Lirim: "Shit. What's she got over ya, though? Spells wise, I mean."

Lirim turned to the foyer mirror and adjusted his hat.

Bronwyn: “Sheer volume o’ spells. Decade upon decade of experience. That spell she used to help us with Aedan? It’s so obscure she found it on a stone tablet.”

Lirim: His smile softened. "Just had a conversation about that, actually, with Xavier Atlas." He watched for her reaction.

Bronwyn: She didn’t quite frown, but there was a definite tightness to her smile at the mention of that man.

“Were ye indeed,” she said as casually as she could. “Does he get his magic from stone tablets as well?”

Lirim: "I imagine if Xavier Atlas were reborn today, he'd be that bookworm child that turns into a mage. Or a mad professor. Or a politician. Can't really pin which."

Bronwyn: “Or held in a federal prison for tax evasion.”

Lirim: "I mean," he laughed, "they're not saints, but they're hungry, Atlases."

Bronwyn: “That’s definitely one way to put it. Do ye see him often?”

Lirim: "Nah. First time in...years."

Bronwyn: “Was it a good visit?”

Lirim: "I needed it. Been meetin' up with a few people I lost." He gestured to the front door. "Charles included."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn reached for Lirim’s hand and gave it squeeze. “Well for that, I’m glad. It’s nice to see ye returnin’ to yer life, spendin’ time with people ye enjoy. Ye’re like a flower bloomin’ after a long winter.”

Lirim: "Only a druid would say that," he laughed. He felt like he'd been doing more of that lately.

Bronwyn: He had and it had not gone unnoticed. It was such a welcome sound.

“It’s true! Ye’re our angelic flower.”

Lirim: Lirim shook his head, rubbed his cheeks with both hands. "Alright, Ridin' Hood, ya all set to go?"

Bronwyn: “All set. I’ve got ev’rythin’ we can possibly need in my basket.”

Charles/Rory: Charles gave a single nod, indicating that Rory could, indeed, be the one to ring the doorbell. He did so with great enthusiasm, before Charles guided him gently back.

Lirim/Aedan: Of course. The doorbell was piano keys, after all. This didn't have to be a child for someone to go to town on it.

"Someone's playing music!" called his son.

"No, I got it!" his father laughed, opening the door less than a moment later.

"Hey, fam!"

Bronwyn: Bronwyn would appear at Lirim's shoulder almost instantly, greeting their new arrivals with a radiant smile.

"There they are! Come in, come in! Look at ye, ye look great!"

Charles/Rory/Cynthia: Charles was all smiles for his friends, tipping back his pointed hat to more easily press a kiss to each of their cheeks.

Rory and Cynthia both were happy to see Bronwyn, Dorothy and a little Tin Man stepping forward for hugs they knew were coming.

"Hello, hello! Rory, Cee, this is... Mr. Lirim Vivaldi." He'd leave it up to the man himself to decide how he wanted to be addressed.

Lirim: "Hi!" The old saying of loving only your kids was relevant to Lirim; he didn't feel like a natural around other people's children and doubted he ever would. But these were Charles'. He got on a knee to shake their hands. He then called to Aedan to greet them.

Bronwyn: The children already knew her very well; they'd both be kissed and given a good squeeze that stopped just shy of mussing their costumes. Their father would be given equal treatment.

She smiled as Lirim greeted them, taking the opportunity to grab her camera from her basket and start snapping pictures.

"I can't get over those costumes! Ye're all so precious I could eat ye right up. Smile for the camera!"

Charles: Charles was not nearly so averse to being photographed as his husband, but there was no need to capture his ridiculous witch's costume for posterity. With a wry smile, he nudged his children gently toward where Aedan stood. "Let's get one of the kids together. Following the yellow brick road, and all that."

He had a sunny smile for Bronwyn and Lirim's son. After all, he did not share Lirim's opinions on other people's children. He'd certainly have chosen the wrong bloody profession, if he did.

"Nice to see you again, young man. You've gotten so big!"

Lirim/Mason/Aedan Mason lagged behind, still warding and locking down the townhouse just a few feet away. His hooded masked figure cut an intimidating silhouette compared to the others. By design, given the city. This was his city and his people, but this was his family, and a priority. He would be watchdog tonight. No doubt with Charles' ability, danger would not survive twenty yards.

Aedan began explaining his costume, as though it were required. Toto for Dorothy! With a bark as real as his dark brown ears perked tight with excitement.

Lirim adjusted his son's curls and returned to his feet. "He really has." The naphil stilled at the sight of the demon, taking a breath. A nod of acknowledgment.

Bronwyn: There was every need to capture Charles' witch costume for posterity and that was precisely what Bronwyn was going to do.

"Aye, let's! Ev'ryone move in closer and give me a big smile!" She snapped a couple of photos of the kids and a couple more of Lirim and Charles. "Mason!" she called. "Come see the cuteness!"

Charles: Charles was not the least bit concerned about the evening. Nor did he believe himself, Bronwyn, and Lirim incapable of defending against any unlikely danger. But he welcomed his husband's presence, all the same. He smiled fondly as Aedan went into the details of his costume. They really were an adorable trio.

"Are we ready to begin? We're following your lead, here."

Lirim/Mason/Rory: "Little terrors in disguise!"

Rory looked back to his father. "Nah uh!"

Lirim locked the door behind them with a flick of his hand. No one around to notice. "Start here and go counter-clockwise, then Coverdale?" he looked to Bronwyn for confirmation.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn mapped the proposed route in her head and nodded. "Sounds good to me! Ev'ryone stay together now, and if ye hear a verra cranky poodle, just walk on by. She only barks if ye give her attention and if ye give her attention she tries to bite ye."

Charles: Charles laughed openly, adjusting his hat as it slipped. "She sounds delightful. I'll keep a wary eye. Do you lot want to leave a bowl of candy out for any kids that come by?"

Lirim: "Last time I did the whole cauldron was gone!" Lirim laughed.

Bronwyn: "I'm convinced that kid who thinks he's James Dean and his mates took the lot."

Charles: "There's always one."

Lirim/Mason: "Should I?"

Mason was already off with the children to the nearest house on their side of the street.

Bronwyn: "We can, if ye like. It's still early, there's a chance bargain bin James Dean won't show up for another couple of hours."

Charles: "I like to, when no one's around to answer the door, but it's your bowl."

Lirim: "Out of that giant school? Not even a maid?"

Lirim unlocked the door with another flick, glanced at his son and ran inside for a jack-o'-lantern bucket, filling it with tiny bags of Reese's Pieces.

Charles: "In Cameron, or wherever else. There's always someone at the school."

Lirim: "Cameron?" The bucket placed. Lirim picked up the pace to join his son.

Charles: Charles followed closely behind, catching a speeding Rory as he returned from the door with chocolate in his once-empty bucket.

"Careful! Mhm. My husband has a house there." For now, anyway.

Lirim: Charles was given a quick glance. "Do you see it as a home, despite being a school?"

Charles: "I do. It's been my home for a long time, now. Well, our home. It'd just be an old house, without everyone else."

Lirim: "Funny, what we put stock in." He flicked his wrist back at the townhouse behind them. "Raised there. Was in stasis after my folks; lived with my Mema. Then it was mine again. Thought about gettin' rid of it, but there's too much in it. Don't have it in me."

Charles: He nodded, glancing at the house briefly, before turning back to watch his children sprint off to the next house. He buried the impulse to ask them to slow down. "I understand that. I might've sold the old place, if we hadn't needed it. And then the idea for the school took root in my head and I couldn't dislodge it. I'd never part with it, now. Means too much. And not only to me. I'll likely pass it on, though. When the time comes. To someone I trust who shares my vision."

Lirim: Lirim nodded, watched his son, his son's mother, the demon.

"Someone like that exist, or still lookin' around?"

Charles: "I imagine it'll be one of my staff. Possibly one of my students, when they're old enough and experienced enough. I'm not opposed to passing my legacy along to my children, but I suspect they'll forge their own paths." He snorted softly, mostly to himself. "Perhaps we need one more."

Lirim: A statement which put a smile on the naphil's face. They were indeed different.

"Got the parental itch for more, huh?"

Charles: Charles lifted a shoulder. "I wouldn't call it an itch, but I'm certainly open to the concept."

Lirim: "Do they all feel like your children?"

Charles: "Yes and no. I love them. And I feel deeply responsible for their wellbeing, of course. I am. But it's... different."

It seemed a poor word to describe the depth of devotion he felt toward his own children, but he couldn't think of a better one, presently.

Lirim: "Never taught anyone anything until Aedan. Can't relate." He adjusted his coat, face contorting with thought. "I take that back. I mean, I walk people through what I do in the studio, but that's -" he waved away his words.

"Anyway."

Charles: "I think I've always wanted to be academic. Teaching or learning. Teaching feels more useful." Less selfish. "Would you ever consider teaching art?"

Lirim: "People gotta learn, someone's gotta teach." But that being said, he scoffed. "Hell no. Probably hang myself bein' asked the same questions all the time. But! That's why people like you exist."

Charles: Charles laughed, a bright sound that carried on the early evening air. "It's not so awful. But, perhaps you're right. 'Those who can't do,' and all that. We should catch up with the children."

Lirim: Such sound paired well with Charles' emotion.

"I get the sayin', but I don't get how that applies to someone like you."

Charles: "Someone like me?" He raised an eyebrow, casting a half-smile at Lirim as he began walking just a bit quicker, slowly narrowing the distance between himself and his family.

Lirim: Bronwyn had gone ahead, probably for his old neighbor. Still, he didn't want her to feel alienated from the conversation. Not that he'd felt anything of the sort; he was thinking too much.

"Ya know. A genius."

Charles: Charles gave a soft little snort and shook his head. "I know geniuses; I'm not one. I'm merely studious. I've spent more than half of my life in a classroom. More than that, I suppose, if you count being on the opposite side of things."

Lirim/Mason: "Just didn't wanna leave the classroom?"

Mason glanced back at that statement, expression well hidden behind his mask.

Charles: He gave a soft laugh, head tilting ever so slightly at his husband. "I suppose not."

Mason: "Why him?" Mason whispered to Bronwyn.

Bronwyn: “Why him what?” Bronwyn whispered back, snapping another picture of the children. “Also which him?”

Mason: "Your him. Why him as the father?"

Bronwyn: "The real question should be why me as the mother."

Mason: "Not even the fuckin' question. Of course you."

Bronwyn: "I was originally a surrogate, remember? He picked me."

Mason: A growl of response. He hadn't appreciated that, either, but such was in the past.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn nudged him. "Hey now, why the growlin'?"

Mason: "I don't like the idea of ya bein' used."

Bronwyn: “Mason.”

Mason: "I know."

Bronwyn: She squeezed his arm. "No one used me. I offered o' my own free will and I'd do it again."

Mason: "Does he remember the other one?"

Bronwyn: "We both do," she said softly. "And fuck him right to hell."

Mason: "The kid remembers the wolf?"

Bronwyn: “Oh, never mind I thought ye were talkin’ about Lirim.” She shook her head. “No, we don’t think so.”

Mason: "Has he asked why y'all don't have ears?"

Bronwyn: Another head shake. “No’ yet. He thinks ev’ryone has them.”

Mason: Mason looked back to Charles. With no expression to give with a mask, his arm opened, offering warmth instead.

Charles: Words weren't necessary, and in this instance facial expressions were superfluous as well. Charles understood the offer for what it was and hurried to accept, closing the distance between them more swiftly and pressing himself against his husband's side. There was no skin available to kiss, so he settled for grabbing the hand that wrapped around him.

"Looks like they're getting on well."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn couldn't help but smile at them. They looked so happy; she didn't need to be able to see Mason's expression to see that.

"Aren't they just? They're so sweet," she said, snapping another photo of the kids. "This is a good bondin' activity for them."

Lirim/Mason: "Really glad he's able to have this. Sooner rather than later he's going to be with more of his people. Just need to set a date."

"Away with the druids?" Mason's question directed to Bronwyn. Charles' hand given a squeeze.

Charles: "It is," he agreed, with a nod. "They ought to spend more time together. It'll be good for all of them."

Charles turned his attention toward Lirim, still keeping pace with his husband. "Oh?"

Bronwyn: She nodded. "Yes to both. No' away as in away, but away as in goin' across the pond to learn with some other wee Druids."

Lirim: "Not like there's an angel academy. I want him with his people. He just happens to have more than one set of people."

Charles: "That's wonderful. I'm sure he'll enjoy himself. You'll both be going with him?"

Bronwyn: "It'll definitely give us an excuse to drop in on my family in Scotland more often. My grandda Owen loves Lirim's art."

Lirim/Mason: "Definitely goin' with him. I wanna see everything."

"They aware of everything he is?" Mason asked.

Charles: "Mm. That'll be lovely for both of you." He glanced to his husband, though the face he loved was hidden by that mask. "We should visit Scotland, after the house is built."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn nodded. "Mostly, aye. They know he's a Druid and they also know he's no' only a Druid, but I figured it was best that they hear the specifics from both of us in person."

Mason: "Your gran'mama gonna be there?" Of all those in her family, that woman he could trust. He didn't think highly of the half-angel among them, but that little boy running about with his son was a part of Bronwyn. Under his gray wing of protection.

Charles: "Mm. Such conversations are best had face-to-face. I'm glad you'll be seeing your family, soon." He only wished he had more family for his own kids to know.

Bronwyn: Another nod. "Aye, she never misses a chance to see Aedan or Lirim. Always asks about ye," she added with a smile over at Mason.

"I am, too. I always enjoy visitin' home."

Lirim/Mason: Lirim simply listened. What he felt from Mason was palpable like a humid summer afternoon. Forced trust through others was never real trust. This they could both agree.

"Next time, call me," Mason said, adjusting the hard plastic mask. Too long since he'd laid eyes on the woman that harbored his secret.

Bronwyn: "Aye, I'll do that, and I'll also remind ye to get her some flowers for deprivin' her of yer company for so long."

Lirim/Mason: "She tell ya s'what she wanted?"

"I didn't know he'd met your family," Lirim laughed politely.

Mason quickly brushed his fingers over Charles and Bronwyn's arm, walking ahead to check on the children. Rory and Aedan standing still, negotiating over some undesirable candy.

Charles: Charles kept pace with the remaining adults, but his gaze did skate frequently toward the children.

Bronwyn: "Years ago," Bronwyn said with another nod, smiling after Mason. "Back before I adopted Lucien, when I was...goin' through a wee patch."

Lirim: Lirim cast her a quick look, one of mild confusion, before nodding. "Mm. Feels like yesterday we all met."

Charles: "Does it?" Charles laughed softly. "Feels like it's been a century. I suppose that happens when everything you think you know about the world gets turned on its head." It was as though he could divide his life into two clean hemispheres.

Bronwyn: "I'm with Lirim. It feels like Aedan was still a baby five seconds ago. Feels like I was meetin' Lirim ten seconds ago. Time is a right old bastard."

Lirim: "When I'm with y'all it goes by like that," he snapped his fingers. "When I'm alone time stands still. Great for paintin'," he chuckled.

Charles: Charles pulled Lirim into a brief half-hug. "We should do this more often. Not Halloween, obviously, but the rest."

Bronwyn: "The kids would love it if Halloween came more often," Bronwyn laughed. "But, aye, we should. It'll be good for them and good for us."

Lirim: Lirim was pleasantly caught off guard by the random bit of affection. His smile blossomed.

"Absolutely. I'd love to get some paint on both of ya."

Charles: He lifted an eyebrow, chuckling. "On? As in a living canvas? Or do you want to see me struggle to form a decent stick figure?"

Bronwyn: "I personally would love that."

Lirim: "Now I wanna see the stick figure, but I mean literally on ya."

Charles: "Trust me, you don't. But my skin is at your disposal, sir. I've never been painted on."

Lirim: "I dunno what's stopped me, but it won't stop me now."

Charles: "Good. I'm looking forward to it."

Bronwyn: "It's settled then. Lirim will paint ye and then ye can wow us with yer stick figure paintin'."

Lirim: "What'll ya be doin' while I'm paintin' and he's stick figurin'?"

Charles: "An excellent question. I don't want to be alone in my artistic pursuits."

Bronwyn: "Bakin' probably."

Lirim: "So we get the smell of fresh baked bread mixed with acrylic and oil? Tasty."

Charles: "Sounds like a party. I've never been able to resist baked goods."

Bronwyn: "I've been wantin' to make some potato bread. Found a recipe that looks promisin'."

Lirim: "I'm gonna end up usin' brown and yellow paint and forget everything else."

Charles: "I love potato bread. Now, I'm starving." He was going to have to enact a dad tax on those sweets. "Rory! Cee! Have you gotten any Paydays?"

Mason: Mason looked back, wriggling a small PayDay - all sweets were small these days, weren't they? - before tossing in Charles' direction.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn laughed. "I'd be curious to see what magic ye can create usin' only yellow and brown."

Charles: He made a valiant effort to catch the candy, but it tumbled out of his grasp. With a sigh, he bent to retrieve it. Still good. "Thanks, love."

Lirim/Mason: 'Ya didn't play catch as a child,' his husband guessed, smiling through his mask as he turned back to the children.

"Challenge accepted," Lirim grinned. His pride as an artist on the line, he must! Already had ideas.

Bronwyn: "Oh yay!" she chuckled. "I'm definitely makin' potato bread while ye paint in hopes that ye turn Charles into a really beautiful artistic potato."

Charles: 'I did not,' he confessed, popping the little candy into his mouth and tucking the wrapper into his pocket to dispose of, later. He flashed a quick smile. 'I was more of a tree-climbing, bug-catching boy.'

With a snort, he shook his head. "Oh, yes. I've always wanted to be a potato. Dreams do come true."

Lirim/Mason: 'Of course you were. For science.'

"Not a potato! Maybe a uh... maybe a glorious sunrise," Lirim smiled.

Bronwyn: She just could not stop laughing. The mental image she'd conjured of Charles painted like a potato was tickling her pink.

"Aye, that would be lovely. Really anything ye do will be lovely."

Charles: 'For science,' he chuckled at their private conversation.

Charles pressed a kiss to the side of her head. A potato, indeed. "Perhaps not the dream, but I'm willing to be a sunrise as well."

Lirim: "Could paint ya both. Sunrise and sunset. Maybe a full moon. Yellows, browns, blue, black and white..." Annnnd he was going off on his own tangent.

Bronwyn: "And I'm more than willin' to be a sunset. Go crazy, darlin', we'll be yer muses. Won't we, Charles?"

Charles: He nodded, thoughtful. "I've always wanted to be an artist's muse."

Lirim/Mason: "No one’s ever drawn ya? Written a poem? Love letter?"

Mason picked up the pace to his children.

Charles: Charles lifted his shoulder. He wasn't heartbroken. "I've received very touching text messages?"

Bronwyn: "With that face? I'm sure there have been people who've drawn ye and written ye letters, even if they never sent them."

Lirim: "I can see that. Takes guts to give that up. Easy to make em, though."

Charles: He gave a soft laugh. "It's a flattering thought. I suppose we'll never know."

Bronwyn: "Aye, it does. I remember writin' a few letters myself when I was young and shovin' them away in a drawer somewhere."

Lirim: "Still around, maybe? My Mema had this book, had all sorts of love letters - and break up letters - from history. Went back two hundred years, I think."

Charles: "Oh, that's fascinating! Your own little piece of history!" He was delighted.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn nodded. "Aye, they should still be in my old bedroom somewhere. My mama didn't really move anythin' around."

Her face lit. "That's lovely! Does she still collect them?"

Lirim: "Probably. Some of em got published in a book about the same thing. Y'all want a copy?"

Charles: "I'd love one!"

Bronwyn: "Absolutely, I would, too. And ye're both welcome to my letters if I ever find them."

Mason/Rory: The children kept their energy for only four blocks before becoming distracted with their sugary treasures, talking to each other, and complaining of the cold. Despite the chilly wind, Rory, for the first time, refused a piggy-back ride from his father. Not in front of company! But he would ask to make smores, and for hot chocolate with pumpkin marshmallows.

Charles: Charles gently tugged on one of Cynthia's braids, holding out a hand for Rory's empty wrappers. "Done with trick-or-treating already? We can head back, if you'd like. Or home?"

Bronwyn: "I'm with Rory, smores and hot chocolate sound really good right now."

Bronwyn bent to pin back Aedan's hair to keep it out of his eyes. The wind was wreaking havoc with those curls.

"What do ye want, lovey?"

Mason/Aedan/Cynthia/Rory: "Can I have hot chocolate?" Aedan looked to his mother hopefully.

Cynthia was ready for warmth; Rory was ready for a chocolaty feast, which also translated to home.

Mason turned his son around, patted his back. "March."

Charles: "Back it is, then." Charles would not raise protest. He was always ready for warmth, but more importantly, this evening was about the children. "Did you enjoy yourselves?"

Bronwyn: She smiled and nodded. "Aye, but ye have to promise me to drink all the tonic I make ye first, okay?" Being part werewolf, Aedan's sensitivity to chocolate was always something they had to be aware of. Luckily, it was mild enough that with the right magical precautions, it didn't hinder him from enjoying it completely.

"Did ye get a good candy haul?"

Lirim/Mason: Mason watched in mild amusement as the children spoke at once, bedding down the urge to correct what was quickly becoming rising voices as they compared candy and bargained chocolate versus everything else.

"Gimmie a Twix before ya give em all away, child," said Lirim.

Charles: Charles slipped his hand into his husband's, similarly allowing the children to enjoy themselves without scolding, on such an evening. "Are we going to the party, or turning in for the night? If not, I'll ring Ro and let her know."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn laughed at the chorus of excited voices. Oh yes, it had definitely been a good haul this year. "Aye, a Twix for daddy and a cherry Jolly Rancher for yer mama."

Lirim/Mason: "We'll go t'the Moon if ya want," Mason said. The mask was removed once reaching their street. Placed on Rory's head, grinning at his son's scowl.

Lirim unwrapped his candy and stuffed the wrapper in his pocket. A quick cheers with Bronwyn before popping the whole thing into his mouth.

Charles: That face! He turned to kiss it, briefly. "Oh, yes. A trip to the moon is definitely in order. Perhaps for Christmas."

He spotted the empty cauldron that told of their arrival and laughed. "Gone, already! I hope at least some of the little kids got candy." Charles had a bag stashed at Mason's, just in case they were around if trick-or-treaters dropped by.

Bronwyn: She cheers-ed Lirim back with her Jolly Rancher and took Aedan's hand, continuing to discuss his candy and how cherry was clearly the superior fruity candy flavor.

The empty cauldron had her grinning from ear to ear. "That didn't take long at all!" she chuckled. "If that James Dean kid took his chance, it'll be the only one he gets. Candy's bein' handed out personally now that we're back. But first, tonic and hot chocolate. Ev'ryone take yer wrappers to the trash."

Lirim/Mason: "Make yourselves at home," Lirim smiled, dropped his hat as soon as they were in the door. Easily made a mess again with a quick swipe of his hand. "Pretty much a mirror image, right?" More colorful than the sharp white and neutral palette next door.

Something paused Mason in the doorway.

"Gonna have'ta get rid of that," he hummed, "'less ya wanna take my head off."

Lirim seemed dumbfounded for a moment before it clicked, eyes widening. "Right. Two sec." The many wards placed by - no matter. He'd assumed they'd faded, and then forgotten them completely.

"Bronnie, ya remember which board it was?"

Charles: His eyebrows vanished behind chestnut fringe for a moment. "No, we can't have that. I do prefer you with your head attached, dearest." And he'd stick by his husband's side until the wards were lifted.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn had forgotten them as well, mostly because she'd placed so many of her own.

"It's the one with the scuff mark from my high heel. Three boards to the right o' the bookshelf."

Lirim: "Got it." He'd almost got up for the kitchen, for a butter knife, before remembering his own damn abilities and pulling up the board with gentle coaxing from his hovering hand.

"There it is," he sighed. An unassuming brown bag no bigger than his palm.

"Is this really a ward, or a charm? I forget the damn lingo."

Charles: Charles gave Mason's hand a gentle squeeze. "Head safe? And the rest of your bits?"

Bronwyn: "It's a hex bag, they can be multipurpose. Let's put it somewhere out o' the way for now. I'll dispose of it properly later."

Lirim/Mason: "I'll put in the backyard." Seemed far enough, since being in the floorboard hadn't taken the demon's head living one wall away.

The children had already taken to the kitchen. Mason could hear gasps. A moment later seeing a fluffy white cat flee upstairs in a panic.

He held his hand out. A lack of static as Lirim excused himself to the back door. Fucking angels.

"Head's safe," he confirmed, stepping inside.

Bronwyn: "Don't scare Pancakes, lovies!" Well, one of them would be receiving a swipe at the ankle at some point this evening. Pancakes would require some soothing.

"Aye, verra much so. Sit, sit. What would ye like, what can I get ye?"

Charles: "Remember how it was with Frankie, in the beginning," he called to his children. "Be patient and don't harass the cat!"

He shook his head, fond, and took the offered seat. "I'm quite all right, darling. Thank you."

Lirim/Mason/Aedan: Lirim was laughing at the sight of Jude. The patient older tabby, accepting his fate in Aedan's arms, carried about with dangling legs.

"Y'all gonna say no t'some wine? What about some," what the hell was this, "pumpkin liqueur? When'd I get this? Was this you?" he asked Bronwyn.

Mason stood beside Charles for a beat, hand firm on the back of his neck, massaging. He separated long enough to find the children.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn looked at the label on the bottle. "Oh! Aye, it was me. I wanted to make an adult pumpkin spice latte. It was bloody good too. I want to try it in pumpkin pie."

Charles: "I'll never say no to wine." A statement that was perhaps a little too true. "Or pie."

Lirim/Aedan: "I do have a chocolate... mud... pie... thing. S'got some cake crumbled on top like dirt and -"

"GUMMIES!" Aedan shouted. "Mama! Can I - Can we have some?"

Bronwyn: "Let me make yer tonic first, then ye can have some. It won't take long, promise." She didn't want an upset stomach ruining his Halloween.

Luckily, she kept all the ingredients on hand and was able to get it going fairly quickly. "Do ye want me to mix it in water or in juice?"

Charles: "Sounds interesting. I can't say I've ever tried that before." But chocolate was chocolate. He reached out for the minds of his family. Where had they gotten off to?

Mason/Aedan: "Apple juice, please." Better manners around company, Lirim noted to self. That was usually the case.

The children had surrounded the cat tower and released Jude, who took to cleaning himself just out of reach at the top. The children were bored within moments.

"Put y'all's candy on the table. We'll go through em," said Mason, casting a quick glance to Lirim. Chocolate pie and red wine. This was turning into an absolute gem of an evening, Lirim thought.

Bronwyn: "Okay, I'll mix it with apple." She kissed the top of his head and got a jar. Time was she would've gotten a bowl and whisked everything together but shaking it until it was mixed was easier. And faster.

Speed was of the essence today.

A few herbs, a few mysterious liquids, and a little magic later, Bronwyn was pouring her concoction into a cup of juice and handing it to Aedan. The tonic made it take on a curiously orange color but the taste wouldn't be altered too much. It would be as if some strong, unsweetened tea had been added to it.

Charles: Charles smirked, but left them to their piles of sweets. Lectures about cavities and thorough tooth-brushing could wait until bedtime. "Can I help with anything?" he asked their host.

Lirim: "If ya wanna help me cut up some pie?" offered between grunts of effort as he argued with a corkscrew and a rather large bottle of zinfandel. Last time he tried to pull a cork via telekinesis had resulted in both a broken cork and bottle. His patience was not made for such delicate work.

Charles: "I think I may be better suited to opening wine," he offered, laughing, and stood to lend a hand.

Lirim/Mason: "He has a gift," said Mason. "If there's alcohol, he can open it. No safe too secure, no lock too strong."

"In the case," Lirim offered the bottle. Corkscrew far too deeply embedded.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn left them to the wine while she got the hot chocolate going, keeping one eye on Aedan to make sure he drank all the juice.

"If that is indeed the case, then Charles, there's a bottle o' scotch in my pantry that seems to have been welded shut. Yer help would be appreciated."

Charles: "Hilarious." He fixed his husband with a very dry expression before turning his attention to the lodged corkscrew. "Goodness." It took a bit of coaxing, but Charles really was a magician of bottle-opening. With a triumphant grin, he set bottle and cork on the table a minute later. "I'd be happy to help, Bronwyn darling."

Lirim/Mason/Aedan: "Lucien been gone that long ya gettin' your whiskey stuck?" Lirim laughed. There were only two Fera in existence which didn't frighten him to his core. Lucien was family, as much as he had fought tooth and nail.

Aedan handed his cup to his father, ready for his hot chocolate.

Mason settled between his children at the glass table, stealing another PayDay for Charles, and a swirly lollipop to bite like a heathen for himself.

Bronwyn: "It hasn't been stuck as long as that," Bronwyn chuckled, putting all her tonic ingredients away. "I was makin' somethin' with it and I'm pretty sure some caramel got stuck in the threads o' the bottle that I forgot to wipe off." That was her theory anyway.

Charles: He had to wince. Could a demon chip a tooth? He didn't know, but it just wasn't right. 'Heinous.' He smirked at his husband before plucking the candy from his hand. "Thank you." He fiddled with the wrapper.

"Bit of warm water should do the trick, then," he said to Bronwyn. "At least, that's how I get syrup bottles open." He thought idly of how perfect a stack of pancakes would be.

Lirim/Mason: Lirim glanced Charles' way, wondering what it was he was borderline yearning for. Maybe he didn't want to know. Sexual desire seemed to just exude from the two of them. Inspiring, but he was grateful to not be telepathic.

Mason watched his husband with challenging eyes, taking another slow performative bite.

'Should see me with jawbreakers.'

"Ffffriggin' hungry," Lirim sighed, catching that particular word split second. "Who wanted pie?" A few small plates had been filled. Ones for the children half size.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn grinned at Lirim. Nice save, she mouthed to him.

"I'm pretty sure we all wanted pie. I definitely do, and that hot chocolate. Is there such a thing as too much chocolate in one sittin'?" Probably, but it was Halloween! It was a day for treats.

Speaking of.

"I need to go refill the cauldron for any more kids we get."

Charles: 'You're a madman.' He shuddered at the very thought, but the lightning flash of a grin gave away his amusement. He popped the little candy into his mouth and bent to give his husband the briefest of kisses. They were guests, after all. Manners make the man.

"Not in my opinion, but I'm hardly an authority. I can fill it, if you'd like. Or start on the hot chocolate?"

Lirim/Mason: "You'll have chocolate every day, but hell hath no fury if it's spicy."

Lirim looked up at the couple, impatiently chewing and swallowing before speaking. "For serious? What about a chocolate martini? Or a mudslide?"

Bronwyn: "No no, it's fine. I'll get the candy."

She went to get the bag, only to poke her head back in a few seconds later. "Are chocolate martinis bein' made? If so I want one!"

Charles: His nose wrinkled in undisguised distaste. "Of course not. Spicy chocolate is an abomination." Charles lifted a shoulder. "I don't mind a splash of bourbon in my hot chocolate."

Bronwyn: "What's this spicy chocolate ye keep mentionin'?" Bronwyn asked the room at large. "Spicy like chilies or spiced like mulled wine?"

Lirim/Mason/Rory: "I mean I want chile-chocolate melted n'put in my mouth," said Mason. "With cinnamon."

Rory's eyes lit up. That was exactly what he wanted.

"I got a habanero in the fridge?"

Charles: Ugh. Corrupting the children. "I'll settle for whipped cream, if you have it."

Bronwyn: "There's a sweet shop near my store that has all kinds of chocolate. I'll bet they have chile chocolate."

Lirim/Mason: "Still open?" Another PayDay was swiped from the pile, now divided into three among the children. Cynthia had traded most chocolate for bubble gum.

"That pastry shop?" Lirim asked. "Oh! I got uh, Cool Whip?"

Charles: "That'll do," he nodded. All this talk of peppers had him needing a balm.

Bronwyn: "No, no' that one, although I have been meanin' to go into that pastry shop. The sweets shop is in the opposite direction, next to that maternity store I shopped at when I was pregnant with Aedan."

Lirim/Mason: Oh fuck, the memories. Both Lirim and Mason were staring, and both looked away almost simultaneously.

"Hot chocolate with cinnamon, then. Chocolate dipped peppers when home." To the delight of their son.

Plates were each given forks, and a cabinet opened of its own accord, so it seemed. A pot floating to the stove.

Charles: Charles lifted an eyebrow at that little exchange but said nothing. He finally claimed a seat and a plate to go along with it.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn noticed it as well, and though she had a clue as to the cause, she filed it away to ask later.

And there was the doorbell.

"Candy time!" Off she went to hand out treats.

Lirim/Aedan: Aedan ran off to help his mama, and Lirim only glanced over his shoulder before looking back at the cocoa powder, milk, and small jar of cinnamon. As though he'd never made this before in his life.

"Thinkin' hot chocolate and a chocolate martini."

Charles: "Do--" He chewed and swallowed a mouthful of pie before making another attempt. "Do you need a hand?"

Lirim/Mason: Lirim slowly looked back with apologetic eyes. "Aedan drinks Ghirardelli with peppermint because God only knows why. I dunno how to do it up fancy."

Bronwyn: "He knows it's the superior combination," Bronwyn said as she returned with Aedan in tow. "Don't ye, lovely? Chocolate and peppermint all the way."

Charles: Charles stood, pushing his plate closer to his family in case any of them wanted to finish his barely-touched dessert. "It's hot chocolate, my friend. It hardly needs to be fancy." He took a place beside his host at the stove. He was no cook, but warm drinks were a skill he'd mastered. Enough milk for everyone was tipped into the saucepan to heat.

Lirim/Mason: Peppermint? Rory was making a face. One Aedan had made at the idea of spicy chocolate. Mason was smiling at Bronwyn.

"I don't do fancy, but I didn't figure y'all'd want the Aedan special," Lirim chuckled.

Bronwyn: Bronwyn just chuckled, returning Mason's smile as she bent to kiss his head.

"One of us wants the Aedan special," she said, taking a seat at the table. She'd probably end up standing to get the door many many times before the night was out but in between she wanted all the time she could get with everyone.

Charles: "Oh, well, no peppermint for me, thanks. I'm a cocoa purist." He leaned against the counter while he waited for the milk to heat.

Lirim: "Purists go first, then." He looked around the room. At this blend of two families. He never would have imagined something like this years ago. Couldn't even imagine his son. Sometimes he still couldn't get over it.

"Happy Halloween, y'all."

Bronwyn: Bronwyn caught Lirim looking around and smiled. She wondered what was going through his head but judging from his expression, it was only lovely things. As it should be at moments like this one.

"Happy Halloween indeed!" she said brightly as the doorbell summoned her once more.

Charles: "Fair enough." He lifted his head in the following silence. Charles, too, was curious, but not enough to go digging. His mouth curled into a smile and he nodded. "Hear, hear!"

[stargleeksil-blog]

Criminal Minds s04e03 Minimal Loss review - or more aptly named, holy shit that’s Dylan from Beverly Hills 90210!!!!! He’s so hot!

Episode 03 – Minimal Loss

Hello everyone! What’s up? So this season is proving to be tense as hell, and I’m not sure how I’m gonna respond to that.

I just hope it’s interspersed well enough by humor.

Let’s see what happens.

Wait. Hold up. Did they just say that there are women, children and fucking FBI agents inside that building, and did that building just go kaboom?

Why are they doing this to me?

Wow. Why is that 911 caller sound like she’s a rapist or something? I mean, I know she isn’t, okay? I get she’s afraid of the unsub, but seriously. That was beyond creepy.

3 days earlier …

POODLE

“Savages, they call us. ‘Cause our manners differ from theirs.”

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr. Cyrus.”

“Actually, it’s Benjamin Franklin.”

BOOM!

Got schooled by the poodle!

I KNEW HE LOOKED FAMILIAR!

LUKE PERRY!

WITH A MOUSTACHE!

AND A SOUTHERN ACCENT! HE’S SO FUCKING HOT! I LOVE YOU LUKE!

Sorry, big Dylan fan.

Wait. So they tell them that they received a call about a man having inappropriate relations with younger women and she immediately names Cyrus? Well, rootie tootie, we got ourselves a winner.

I’m not happy. I was hoping he’d be the good guy here.

Oh, wait, snap. That’s his wife. Okay. That’s nice.

Wait. She’s only fifteen? And her mother said it was okay? DAMN.

WAIT. Why is Cyrus leading his buddies with guns into the room? Why is he threatening my poodle and Emily?

So there’s a state police raid on the place. But the FBI didn’t know about it.

Oh boy.

Oh god, my poodle and Emily are now underground with those people and they’re all under siege. Fuck.

“I didn’t start this.”

YEAH RIGHT!

Oh god. I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.

Benjamin Franklin: “To follow by faith alone is to follow blindly.” Why can’t we have more geniuses like Benny?

HOTCH!

FUCK!

Get cracking, dudes!

So the attorney general lied to the ATF because he’s challenging the governor in the next elections? Fuck you, Wells.

No one is allowed to steal my poodle and my Emily.

Just ask my yummycakes.

“Libertarians believe that everyone has the right to do what they want as long as they aren’t infringing on the rights of others.”

“But libertarians aren’t religious. Clearly this sect abandoned libertarian principles.”

Damn straight.

“Garcia, what do we got on Cyrus?”

“We got bubkiss. It’s like the guy never cast a shadow on the known universe.”

DAMN.

“Seventeen years for tax evasion?” sounds extreme.

“Oh, no. that would be two years for tax evasion and fifteen for going after four IRS agents with a Louisville slugger.” DAMN.

Oh my god, Luke talking to babies is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t care that he’s fifty-years-old right now. He’s the hottest thing out there, except for Shemar Moore and Matthew Gray Gubler.

Amazing. Aaron is distributing the command because he knows David is good at this and David’s like, bro, I’m emotionally involved and so are you, are you serious? And I’m like, guys, Emily and Spencer are inside, get your shit together and do whatever it takes.

“I’m the attorney general of this state. I demand to know why I wasn’t told that the FBI was sending undercover agents into the sectarian ranch.”

“The only thing that you’re in position to demand is a lawyer.”

Oh damn.

“I’m the guy who’s gonna tell the attorney general of the United States whether to charge you with obstructing a federal investigation or negligent homicide.”

WHOO! YOU GO HOTCH!

“Get off my crime scene.” DAMN.

We finally see Shemar’s handwriting. I love it!

But the situation is too serious for me to enjoy this.

Damnit.

Now I’m having all kinds of teacher!Derek fantasies. Fuck.

Oh god, they’re gonna just try and get as many people out. Fuck. Please tell me they’re gonna do something right here.

I HATE BENJAMIN CYRUS!

He’s calling and letting a baby say “You killed my mommy and daddy. Are you going to kill me too?” SERIOUSLY? YOU ARE EVIL, DUDE!

Seriously. No one should look this hot.

And I realize this was nine years ago, but still.

My baby is like, fuck, one died, but at least it’s not pretty boy or Prentiss.

Shit. Rossi is going on his own inside to confirm that everyone who matters is okay. Shit.

Yeah, take Morgan!

Oh, you wanna build trust? You wanna go in alone? Well, tough ta-tas.

So the child-bride is literally worshipping him? Oh boy.

“Trust in god with all your heart. Lean not on your own understandings. Trust in mine.”

Okay, I do so not like Ben anymore.

“We will be with him soon. We have drank the poison together.” WAIT WHAT?

“They’re committing mass suicide.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“Rossi, he just said it.”

I get it, you want to protect the children and Prentiss and Reid, but he just said ‘we have drank the poison together’. COME ON!

“Cyrus just told them he did. I think he’s just bluffing.”

What? Why?

“Just after he told them about the poison, he waited for them to start to react. Then he nodded to Cole, and he started writing. Look.”

“They’re scanning the audience, looking for reactions.”

Oh thank god Rossi has his wits about him. But seriously, that was a dangerous call, dude.

Who the fuck is Charles Mulgrew?

Oh god, he was a model citizen after being in prison and he knows the law. Oh god.

“Good stuff.”

“Damn straight. Now get our friends back, baby.”

Oh honey!

SHIT! They just announced that Prentiss and Reid are FBI, and they listen to the news in there. Shit.

HEY! HEY! Don’t you dare point your gun at my baby poodle! NO!

Did Prentiss just put herself on the line for poodle? Oh, honey!

HEY! LEAVE PRENTISS ALONE!

God, and they need to listen to her being beaten up? Oh my god.

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING THIS SEASON????

“She’s antagonizing him.”

“She’s not talking to him.”

“She’s talking to us. She’s telling us not to come in.”

Oh honey.

“Did you know she was FBI?”

“Nancy told me the woman was a child abuse interview expert from Denver. In four years I worked with her, Nancy never lied to me before.”

Oh poodle, you smart cookie.

“On the next call, you should test them. Test the negotiator. Make him prove that the isn’t a liar.” What are you doing, my genius?

Oh Reid, you amazing unicorn. You’ve gained their trust, and you’ve made sure they send out at least one kid as a negotiation.

Oh someone give this guy all the hugs and kisses in the world.

Oh my god, I can’t handle Shemar holding a kid. I love him too much!

(Um, this is gonna be a long one, too, I feel like there’s a motif here. Daniella? Am I right?)

I’m confused. Why all of a sudden he’s releasing all those people and negotiating to talk the next day? I’m really confused here.

“They had a chance to prove their faith when Cyrus told them that they’d sacrificed themselves for god. But instead they showed they weren’t worthy. That’s why he wants the media to bare witness to your true final act of sacrifice.”

Oh god.

“I’m always looking for signs of things to come.”

Oh my smart cupcake.

So now they’re planning an invasion at 3AM and trying to figure out how to tell Prentiss and Spencer.

GENIUS!

Shit. He’s planning a mass suicide.

Oh papa bear, I love you so much.

Oh god. I’m seriously pissed at the beginning of this season.

Shit. He’s gonna blow the whole place up.

Fuck.

“We’ve gotta get you out of here.”

Yup.

“No. We’ve gotta get Reid!”

Hell yes.

“Prentiss, I will get Reid.” Good puppy.

God that girl is completely nuts.

Shit. While trying to do the right thing, Derek effectively separated the mother from the insane kid. Oh god.

Why are they always sending him into the line of fire? They’re seriously just making me want to claw my heart out and just take a chisel to it.

“Jeremiah 29:11 – ‘I have you, declared the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to bring you hope and a future.’ Is blowing yourself up part of the prosperous future that God wants?” oh you smart poodle, you.

“You think you know the word better than I?” DO NOT POINT THAT GUN AT MY POODLE!

“No. I’m just demonstrating that you can use the Bible to manipulate anything.”

“Matthew 10:24 – ‘Do not suppose that I’ve come to the earth to bring peace. I did not come to bring peace but a sword’.” oh god.

Did he just harm my poodle????? FUCK YOU!

“No one had to follow. God could have just stopped me.”

“He just did.” BOOM! Schooled.

Oh god! JESSICA!!! WHY????

So Emily and Dave are okay. Good.

OH THANK GOODNESS!

Why the fuck is this show doing to me????

Daniella, this is directed to you, you told me this was gonna be funny L it’s not.

I need my poodle hugs, too.

Ayn Rand: “Reason is not automatic. Those who deny it cannot be conquered by it.”

Well, that explains the idiots I have to attend to at my job.

“I need you to listen to me. What Cyrus did to me is not your fault.”

“It was my decision, and I would do it again. Do you hear me?”

I LOVE FACE ACTING!

 Okay, so this episode just had me all over the place emotionally because I love Emily and I love Reid, yet I also really love Luke Perry, and I really hate them for doing this to me. And those guys are assholes to the bone, but it was also amazing. And I love this show so freaking much that I’m literally having keyboard diarrhea and I can’t stop praising this episode even though it was awful on me.

So, I’m really looking forward to what this season has in store. It’s one episode more than what we’ve had in seasons two and three, so I’m excited.

I’ll see you all next time!

<3 love you all

And of course, the Derek and Spencer pics that didn’t make it to the post above:

[imaginedilestrade]

Love and Law

A/N: Oh boy, oh boy, ooohhhhh boy! This fic has gotten so much love and support over the last twenty four hours so thank you all so much! But now it’s time to conclude this story! I’ll put it up on my AO3 shorty! It’s been so fun (and sometimes emotional) to write this. There aren’t enough Mark Darcy fics (in my opinion) so incorporating him into this one with Greg was really fun! (He was also a bit of an inspiration for ‘Love and Law’.) Crossovers are a whole different world AND SO AMAZING TO WRITE 😁 it’s a bit long (I got carried away…)

Warnings: Swearing, angst, I love to mess with your minds, DRAMA! Tooth decay inducing sweetness.

Part One

Italics are flashbacks!

—————————

“I do…”

You almost crashed your car hearing Mark’s words over the speaker on your phone, your heart, shattered by that point, somehow managed to break even more knowing that Mark wasn’t the only person to say that today.

“So you do think the judge will be in our favour?” You asked in an emotionless voice.

“Course I do, our evidence is solid. We’re going to win this case Y/N.”

You nodded your head as if he could see you “Alright, I’m just pulling up now-”

“I see you,” Mark cut you off and you parked your car. Mark jogged over and opened the car door for you “Jesus, Y/N…” He trailed off seeing the red and pink blotches on your face and your tear stung eyes as well as the dried tear lines forked down your cheeks. You pulled down the visor in front of your head and glanced at yourself in the mirror, taking out the pressed power compact in your glove compartment and tidied yourself up.

“I’m fine, Mark,” you waved off his worries “I have a suit jacket in the boot.” You stepped out and Mark looked at you, full of concern.

“It looks like you’ve been just been to a wedding,” his eyes wandered up and down your navy blue lace dress and the fascinator nestled in your hair, lightly laughing, trying to lighten the mood.

“Don’t,” you softly whispered and fumbled around putting on the slightly crumbled jacket, you mentally praised yourself for always having one in the boot of your car as well as a briefcase with a few documents for the Jenkins case. You tossed your fascinator in and shut it over.

A crowd of reporters and journalists surrounded the two of you and Mrs Jenkins who you were pushing forward, it wasn’t advisable to answer questions until after the case. The flashing lights stung your eyes even more.

Finally making it inside the courthouse you and Mark sat Mrs Jenkins in between the two of you as her husband entered. The judged followed shortly after “All rise,”

Everyone in courthouse stood and bowed to the judge. You glanced over to Mark and you both shared a silent nod. “I’ve reviewed this long and lengthy case with a fine tooth comb,” the judge began “Here is my verdict…”

—

Meanwhile back at the church Greg was still standing there, streaming out a string of ‘I’s. Rachael’s smile faltered a bit “Greg,” she quietly said his name between her gritting teeth “Say it.”

Sherlock stood up and went after you, only to realise that your car was gone so he phoned Mycroft to try and find you.

“Greg,” Rachael hissed a little louder and Greg’s mouth snapped shut. He glanced over to Mary and John who were looking out for Sherlock but also turning around to keep an eye on Greg himself.

Greg inhaled a shaky breath “I…don’t,” he whispered and couldn’t help but smile as repeated himself in a more confident, louder tone for the whole church to hear “I don’t.”

Rachael’s eyes widened and her jaw slacked, Sherlock ran into the church with his ear pressed to the phone “I found her!” He screamed and everyone turned around to him, almost appalled at his loud outburst “I found Y/N, she’s at court. They moved the verdict to today.” He was looking in John’s direction and the doctor nodded, Sherlock glanced up to Greg before rushing to a cab.

Greg stood there still frozen in place “Rachael, I’m sor-” he was cut off as her hand came into contact with his cheek.

“It’s her isn’t it?” She spat out and Greg let out a sigh “It’s always been her hasn’t it?”

Greg mulled over her furious words…it had always been you…

—

“What’s going on out there?” Greg asked coming up the stairs of 221b. Outside was teeming with press.

“Y/N’s case, attracting a lot of attention since she has been hired as the Prince of Denmark’s lawyer…” Sherlock trailed off nonchalantly.

“Who’s Y/N?” Greg asked cocking a brow.

“Our new roommate,” John clarified “She’s a lawyer and good at it!”

“Oh she’s taking the so called ‘Hamlet case’ isn’t she? How’s it going?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself,” Sherlock smirked and turned on the TV. You were on it with a huge smile on your face, standing in front of the distinctive black door. Greg’s jaw dropped the moment he saw you, he honestly thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

“Miss Y/L/N…” One reporter captured your attention “How are you feeling?”

“Ecstatic, I had every confidence that we’d win this case. My client and I will be holding a press conference tomorrow. Thank you,” you smiled and turned your back as they asked more questions, their voices eventually warping into one collective noise. You made your way up the stairs and walked into the flat with a huge grin “I did it!” You screamed with delight and danced about on the spot.

Your smile didn’t leave as your own eyes met with a brown pair filled with warmth. “H-hi…” You greeted the unfamiliar man standing in the middle of your living room.

“Eh Hi!” Greg greeted and stuck his hand out “I’m Greg, a DI at Scotland Yard.”

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.”

—

Since that day, meeting you years ago, it has always been you.

Rachael took his silence as a yes and she let out a low growl under her breath “Her!” She screamed and jabbed Greg’s chest with her forefinger “That stupid poxy lawyer!”

“Don’t talk about her like that!” Mary stood from her seat and people’s eyes locked on to her as she stormed up to the bride “Y/N is a thousand times better than you! Even more than a thousand!” Mary screamed and went to lunge forward but John was quick enough to grab her and hold the fiery blonde back.

Greg smirked and shook his head, finally seeing Rachael’s true colours…something that he should have noticed at the first Christmas party he brought her to at Baker Street.

—

“Stop fucking about with that…wait-what is that again?” You asked, exasperated and feeling a bit like Sherlocks mother, telling him to put his (highly dangerous chemical) toys down.

“Christmas is such a waste of time,” he huffed out and turned off his Bunsen burner. “We do this every year, what changes?!”

You rolled your eyes “Christmas is a time for family and friends! Isn’t that right Mary?” You turned to your friend, she smiled and nodded in agreement whilst hanging a sprig of mistletoe between the kitchen and living room.

Molly arrived first and then Greg arrived with a woman on his arm. You chewed the inside of your lip with frustration. So this was the one he mentioned to everyone a few weeks back…

“Uh hello everyone, this is Rachael!” Greg introduced her with a smile but when he saw you it faded a little. He felt guilty.

A few hours later you walked into the kitchen to grab another drink, Greg followed you in with a small, rectangular box in his hand. He handed it to you and you ripped open the wrapping paper and opened the box to find a fountain pen with your initials on it. “You’re always writing yanno ‘law-ish’ things,” Greg smirked and you looked up to him with soft, thankful eyes.

“I love it, thank you. I have something for you too. It’s in my room, follow me…” You trailed off and he followed you. But you both froze when Mary and Molly let out an 'Ooohh’. You lightly shut your eyes and cursed under your breath, tilting your head up and opening your eyes you were both standing under the mistletoe Mary had hung earlier. You were going to kill that woman.

Greg nervously chuckled but it died in his throat when you looked at him, if Rachael wasn’t in the picture he would have given you the biggest kiss he could have mustered.

Instead you both settled for a kiss on the cheek.

Rachael narrowed her eyes and walked up to the both of you, pushing you out the way and planting a kiss on Greg. The DI narrowed his eyes, unhappy with Rachael’s actions, seeing her tossing you to the side.

Your heart sank and your gaze fell to the floor. You decided to go and get Greg’s gift on your own. Sherlock however followed you into your room and shut the door over, not closing it completely.

“It’s not too late you know…”

You looked up and your eyes found the crack in the door, of course Sherlock had to leave it ajar just enough for you to see Rachael practically eating Greg’s face off.

“It is too late Sherlock.”

—

You pulled out some paperwork and placed it on the table. Your heart almost stopped seeing the pen Greg had gotten you. The same Greg who’d be basking in martial bliss right about now, probably being drenched in tacky pastel coloured confetti.

The tears began to well in your eyes again.

“I believe,” the judge’s booming voice broke you away from your thoughts “That the defendant, Mr Peter Jenkins, is guilty. I am instilling ten years minimum prison sentence for tax evasion and money laundering and as well as this all his overseas bank accounts will be placed under criminal investigation in the countries which they are situated in.”

The three of you let out a huge sigh of relief and a spark of happiness flowed through you as the judge continued to speak “Mrs Jenkins, this court awards you one million in compensation from your husband as well as granting you divorce from him.” Mrs Jenkins let out a loud cheer and frantically clapped her hands.

“Furthermore-” the judge was cut off by the doors to the courtroom opening.

“Y/N!” Sherlock screamed out before he was held back by security.

“Sherlock!” You said his name in a scolding tone “Oh for the love of god I’m in the middle of something here!” You hissed.

“Y/N it’s not too late! It’s-get your hands off me!” He told the security guard.

“Get this man out of here!” The judge ordered and Sherlock was dragged out kicking screaming. You let out a huff and turned to the judge.

“I’m so sorry your honour,” you bowed and sat down, more agitated than you would have liked to admit.

“That’s alright Miss Y/L/N,” the judge smirked “He’s a passionate man that Holmes. Anyway back to the case Mrs Jenkins you are also awarded with the house that you and Mr Jenkins both share. He will be denied all assets from this point on. Send him to the docks,” the judge ordered before banging his mallet “Case dismissed.”

Mrs Jenkins, Mark and yourself let out joyful cheers and hugged one another “Congratulations Y/N!” Mark smiled and embraced you in a hug “Are we still alright for that…you know…us?” He whispered in you ear and you both pulled back, you smiled at him.

“Of course Mark, I think we would be great together…” You admitted bashfully and he nodded with a large grin.

The three of you left court and were greeted by nosy reporters, you all couldn’t stop smiling at the outcome. “Miss Y/L/N!” One caught your attention “This is your twentieth successful case. You haven’t lost a single one, firstly, congratulations. Secondly, what’s your secret?”

A soft smile tugged the corner of your mouth “I just love what I do, I’m so passionate about it. But I didn’t handle this case alone…Mark Darcy,” you motioned to him “He is an incredible lawyer too.”

“Will you two be working together in the future?” Another reporter asked.

You turned to Mark and let out a huff of air as your heart began to pound against your ribcage from all the adrenaline rushing through you “Well I should hope so!” Mark nervously laughed “We are partners…as of now!” Mark wrapped an arm around your waist.

Looks of confusion were facing the two of you “Partners?” One said “As in romantically involved partners?”

You and Mark both blushed before laughing at the comment “God no!” You laughed out “I suppose now is as good as time as any to let you all know Mark and I are starting a law firm together. As of next week 'Y/L/N and Darcy law firm’ will be starting operations!” You announced with a large smile.

You opened your mouth to speak again but a tall, curly haired man was waving at you “I have to go, I’ll see you at the press conference tomorrow yes?” You asked Mark.

“Course, see you then!”

“Give Bridget and little William my love!” You broke away from the reporters and over to Sherlock with a scowl on your face. “What the fucking hell was that all about Sherlock?! I was in a middle of a verdict hearing! You can’t just barge in!”

“I’m sorry but Y/N,” Sherlock gripped on to your upper arms “It’s not to late. It’s just the beginning.”

You rolled your eyes and felt yourself being dragged down into the pit you thought you were starting to get out of “Sherlock what are you on about? And shouldn’t you be at a wedding reception? Greg has married her end of-”

“He didn’t.”

Your world stopped spinning. Did you just hear him right? He could be lying to try and make you feel better.

“Wh-what?” You choked out.

“He didn’t go through with it, Mary phoned me. She, John and Greg left. Mary tried to punch Rachael when she bad mouthed you.”

You chewed your lip as a tear streamed down your cheek.

“Where is he now?”

—

Greg kept his forehead pressed the cold window of his office as it rained. Again.

His office was a dreary grey colour, he didn’t turn any lights on when he arrived and asked John to leave with Mary. He needed time on his own, especially after hearing that you and Mark were now partners. He turned off the car radio the one the interview was being streamed to not wanting to hear anymore after making his own assumptions.

He’d lost you to a man who would probably make you happy.

Greg didn’t realise however that you and Mark were only business partners and nothing more. Mark had his own family.

“I’m a stupid poxy lawyer then?”

A halfhearted, light laugh made Greg turn around and made his mouth gape. “After winning twenty cases consecutively, I think I’m a bit better than that…” You joked.

Greg stood in the same spot, he could move, every bodily function of his shut down. The blue, grey colour from the weather outside enhanced your features beautifully.

“When did you fall in love with me?” He asked in a low voice and you blinked, he knew how you felt. Mind you, he could have probably guessed that from your actions today.

“The night I crashed on the couch and you placed a blanket on me…” You admitted with tears sticking to your eyelashes.

“That was the day after the first time we met each other? The very next day?” Greg’s brows furrowed.

“I know.” After you whispered that out it remained silent for a few minutes, that was until Greg let out a small laugh of disbelief.

“I’ve always settled for second best,” he told you “I didn’t think I deserved the best things life could offer me. I mean for Christ sake I’m second best at my own job! I’m always going to Sherlock for help.”

You swallowed hard as he started moving, Greg didn’t think he was going to be able to put one foot in front of the other again but he was managing. “I didn’t think I’d even have the privilege to be in the same room as you-”

“Why not?” You asked, cutting him off.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” He questioned and you silently nodded “Because,” he was now standing in front of you “You are one of the finest lawyers in the world and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Rachael was my second best, but I wanted you. The first good thing in my life.”

He placed his hands on the back of your neck and you moved with his actions as he brought your lips to his own.

Years. Years you waited for this moment and it was everything you had ever imagined, if not more.

He pulled back slightly and pressed his forehead to yours “I don’t want second best anymore,” he whispered against your lips.

“You never deserved second best in the first place…” You trailed off and gingerly pressed your lips to his again, you couldn’t get enough of the feeling of his skin against yours.

“You and Mark aren’t…”

“No, he’s got a lovely wife and an adorable baby boy. We’re just partners in law. That’s all.” You told him and you felt him relax.

“I love you,” he admitted kissing you again.

You smiled at the DI. The man who’d dedicated his life to the law just like you. “I love you too.”

You loved the law and the law loved you back. He would never stop enforcing that.

————————— D'awww! I’m not that mean am I? I’m just a huge softie at heart. This was cute. I cried writing this so many bloody times.

I hope I messed with your minds at some parts 😏😉 thank you all again so so so much! I loved writing this two part story! ❤️

Tags-

@adorablebadger @damnitman-jamlocked-inthetardis @wcsteland @holmes-maev @rikkachloechan @katie27hp @daynaan @laterthantherabbit @Aliisa-Jones (link not working) @elenangzie @ccorpuz1214 @cutie1365 @hounds-of-the-fall @ryan–strick

[megareallivesmadeeasy1-blog]

RATTIS RATTIS

Poem by Lettice Gatacre and Chloee Maugile 

LIVE MUSIC

Two characters performing several scenes of a dialogue

First scene (on screen projected)

In a funeral parlor,

Lost ashes slightly humorous

Wrong appointment have the body

The wrong body that later turns into the right body which is petey.

Second scene

(Someone else)

Old person’s (brother?)

Funeral

Weird ceremony

Back up actors

Third scene

Fish and chip shop,

table middle of the room light above it, new couple?

Sally and John- mundane, bland characters, fairly sweet NICE

Fish and chip shop (real time)

Sadistic fish and chip shop

Circle of battered fish hanging from hooks, above table where sally and Johnny sit eating their fish and chips

Lights swings above head casting shadow of lumps of battered fish and there faces

light cuts in and out, in blackness grease is poured down battered fish to rain down on sally and Johnny (think about smell of fish and chip shop)

Johnny and sally date night, once a month, recommended by one of sally co workers, normally just go to the pub for pie and mash but sally wants a change- she's getting fed up and fat with Johnny

Johnny and sally- plumb, ripe, supple, mid thirties couple - married for three years

Sally

Sarcastic fringe head Complacent with Johnny, with her job as a small town sectary for a unknown solicitors firm dealing with small claims

-Frumpy, slight sarcastic, always slightly red in the face, picked the first man who cared to look at her once, never had any attention, wants a baby, time is running out johns never made her orgasm

Johnny

Plump, greying gelled hair, sweaty, always mopping his brow and checking his watch

Hates his job, hates his wife, still in love with his ex- Claire who ran away with his younger better looking brother Jez, who now lives in Australia as a healthy living life coach with one kid

Pete (parasite) can latch onto any character at any time,

Scene begins-

Both eating not talking, sally eating more aggressively- johnny slumped in the chair slowly sips his beer (can hear beer crinkerling, and johnny sipping and gulging aaah) looking at sally eating, the sight is making him lose his appeiate and become increasingly aggregated and sickened, continues through out to readjust his hair with the dripping grease and reshuffle his belt- goes on for a few minutes - possible background noise of the quiet hum of the fish and chip shop

Lights go off- lights turn back on Pete is hanging over johns shoulder (pete is his internal voice)

Pete in johnnys ear- why do you feel so replaced today, its the same women johnny the same women you married. mother loves sally. you love sallys mother, it what you think about when you fuck johnny i know. look at sally she's made the effort she's wearing that new dress, bulging but the side scoffing her fish and chips.

Sally

Hows your dinner?

Johnny-

yeah, alright love, you look like your enjoying yours

pete- nice and plump nice and ripe when will she be ready for the picking, she knows nothing of when you cum thinking of her mothers contoured face

you wanted to go to the pub didn't you Johnny, and now your here in this god forsaken fish and chip, all you wanted Johnny was pie and mash round the pub…. pause (Pete thinks to himself) … well actually you could have probably got pie and mash from ere.. but NO you wanted to please sally just this once. 1 night once a month  I guess u can giver her that !! its you and me baby.

Aren't you hungry Johnny?

Sally- how was your day love? Did you hear back from Simon about that promotion?

J- no love still waiting to hear back

S- (mumbles under breath) were always waiting

J-what was that love?

S-oh nothing don't mind me just thinking about the food haha you know me i love my food

(both chuckle awkwardly)

S-you know Claire recommended this place, i think its proper lush don't you think?

J-(said with resentment) yeah its grand

S- Claire and Ryan you know there just so cultured, you know claire don't you love, my coworker in IT, she's great. Her and Ryan eat her three times a week, its proper sit down little meal, claire says it make her relationship strong, you know what that means love, you know what that could do for us

Slight pause gazes off to think of Claire and the future.

S- so you know Claire said I might be up for a promotion?

J- oh ye

S-yeah I would be sharing an office with Gary then, you know Gary love? He's head of management (for company). You met him at the Christmas party last month he was telling this terrifically hilarious story of his trip to the Bahamas, you do remember love…

S- Gary says I could have the capabilities oh head of management, can you believe that love me and Gary co- head of management.. love?

Pete- garryyy harry garry, he suchHHH  great guy.. Pause.. you do know your wife sally is fucking him don't you, well of course you do. you don't even care do you Johnny. i mean if thats what she wants the plump old cow. at least garystops you having to fuck her more than once a month. maybe gary will get her pregnant. and she will finally leave you.

S-love? you don't seem to be enjoying your food its gunna get cold

(COULD WE BATTER SALLY, video)

maybe- pete could be tying sally and johnny together like the king rat -

scene where paul is cradling pete in his arms

paul has killed pete, paul just talking in his head, pete stored away in his attic

paul killed pete couldn't be pete

both seedy characters low key slightly pathetic gangsters, petty crime, tax evasion

paul loves pete, never express physicality

pete never really there always dead from start

moments of realisation then snap back into doing his actions of murder

he kill more than one person / killing or trying to strangle him self

knaring on himself

rats gnaring on the bones

picking and gnaring on skin, bones, people, conversation.

out of cleaning, never satisfied.

the body of a bird would remain.

the body of the rat remained.

debris.

paul cant let him go. paul is angry at petey, angry that he cant let him go.

the Ratking. blood, feces or dirt.

[megareallivesmadeeasy1-blog]

Poem by Lettice Gatacre and Chloee Maugile

LIVE MUSIC

Two characters performing several scenes of a dialogue

First scene (on screen projected)

In a funeral parlor,

Lost ashes slightly humorous

Wrong appointment have the body

The wrong body that later turns into the right body which is petey.

Second scene

(Someone else)

Old person’s (brother?)

Funeral

Weird ceremony

Back up actors

Third scene

Fish and chip shop,

table middle of the room light above it, new couple?

Sally and John- mundane, bland characters, fairly sweet NICE

Fish and chip shop (real time)

Sadistic fish and chip shop

Circle of battered fish hanging from hooks, above table where sally and Johnny sit eating their fish and chips

Lights swings above head casting shadow of lumps of battered fish and there faces

light cuts in and out, in blackness grease is poured down battered fish to rain down on sally and Johnny (think about smell of fish and chip shop)

Johnny and sally date night, once a month, recommended by one of sally co workers, normally just go to the pub for pie and mash but sally wants a change- she’s getting fed up and fat with Johnny

Johnny and sally- plumb, ripe, supple, mid thirties couple - married for three years

Sally

Sarcastic fringe head Complacent with Johnny, with her job as a small town sectary for a unknown solicitors firm dealing with small claims

-Frumpy, slight sarcastic, always slightly red in the face, picked the first man who cared to look at her once, never had any attention, wants a baby, time is running out johns never made her orgasm

Johnny

Plump, greying gelled hair, sweaty, always mopping his brow and checking his watch

Hates his job, hates his wife, still in love with his ex- Claire who ran away with his younger better looking brother Jez, who now lives in Australia as a healthy living life coach with one kid

Pete (parasite) can latch onto any character at any time,

Scene begins-

Both eating not talking, sally eating more aggressively- johnny slumped in the chair slowly sips his beer (can hear beer crinkerling, and johnny sipping and gulging aaah) looking at sally eating, the sight is making him lose his appeiate and become increasingly aggregated and sickened, continues through out to readjust his hair with the dripping grease and reshuffle his belt- goes on for a few minutes - possible background noise of the quiet hum of the fish and chip shop

Lights go off- lights turn back on Pete is hanging over johns shoulder (pete is his internal voice)

Pete in johnnys ear- why do you feel so replaced today, its the same women johnny the same women you married. mother loves sally. you love sallys mother, it what you think about when you fuck johnny i know. look at sally she’s made the effort she’s wearing that new dress, bulging but the side scoffing her fish and chips.

Sally

Hows your dinner?

Johnny-

yeah, alright love, you look like your enjoying yours

pete- nice and plump nice and ripe when will she be ready for the picking, she knows nothing of when you cum thinking of her mothers contoured face

you wanted to go to the pub didn’t you Johnny, and now your here in this god forsaken fish and chip, all you wanted Johnny was pie and mash round the pub…. pause (Pete thinks to himself) … well actually you could have probably got pie and mash from ere.. but NO you wanted to please sally just this once. 1 night once a month  I guess u can giver her that !! its you and me baby.

Aren’t you hungry Johnny?

Sally- how was your day love? Did you hear back from Simon about that promotion?

J- no love still waiting to hear back

S- (mumbles under breath) were always waiting

J-what was that love?

S-oh nothing don’t mind me just thinking about the food haha you know me i love my food

(both chuckle awkwardly)

S-you know Claire recommended this place, i think its proper lush don’t you think?

J-(said with resentment) yeah its grand

S- Claire and Ryan you know there just so cultured, you know claire don’t you love, my coworker in IT, she’s great. Her and Ryan eat her three times a week, its proper sit down little meal, claire says it make her relationship strong, you know what that means love, you know what that could do for us

Slight pause gazes off to think of Claire and the future.

S- so you know Claire said I might be up for a promotion?

J- oh ye

S-yeah I would be sharing an office with Gary then, you know Gary love? He’s head of management (for company). You met him at the Christmas party last month he was telling this terrifically hilarious story of his trip to the Bahamas, you do remember love…

S- Gary says I could have the capabilities oh head of management, can you believe that love me and Gary co- head of management.. love?

Pete- garryyy harry garry, he suchHHH  great guy.. Pause.. you do know your wife sally is fucking him don’t you, well of course you do. you don’t even care do you Johnny. i mean if thats what she wants the plump old cow. at least garystops you having to fuck her more than once a month. maybe gary will get her pregnant. and she will finally leave you.

S-love? you don’t seem to be enjoying your food its gunna get cold

(COULD WE BATTER SALLY, video)

maybe- pete could be tying sally and johnny together like the king rat -

scene where paul is cradling pete in his arms

paul has killed pete, paul just talking in his head, pete stored away in his attic

paul killed pete couldn’t be pete

both seedy characters low key slightly pathetic gangsters, petty crime, tax evasion

paul loves pete, never express physicality

pete never really there always dead from start

moments of realisation then snap back into doing his actions of murder

he kill more than one person / killing or trying to strangle him self

knaring on himself

rats gnaring on the bones

picking and gnaring on skin, bones, people, conversation.

out of cleaning, never satisfied.

the body of a bird would remain.

the body of the rat remained.

debris.

paul cant let him go. paul is angry at petey, angry that he cant let him go.

the Ratking. blood, feces or dirt.