#I am still learning. Please pardon my ignorance

[fireflowersims]

We haven't learned. We haven't learned shit at all.

My country's wealth is directly linked to the exploitation and colonization of other peoples. We call the violent acts commited in Indonesia after ww2 "police actions" as if it wasn't horrific crimes against people who were (justifiably) tired of being occupied and abused by foreign invaders and colonizing dickhats.

Sure, we "lost" the Dutch East Indies. We are not actively colonizing anymore. And yet, we still haven't learned a thing. That "VOC mentality" was never gone, it's still there. It's that mentality of thinking business above everything else, money makes right, who cares how horrifically you abuse people, who cares about the massacre of the Banda islands when you now have all the yummy nutmeg to use and sell. It's not something to be admired, it's something we have to address and resolve, but we're not. We're not doing that, but we have to if we ever want justice of any kind.

We're ruled by dickheads who think that saying "from the river to the sea" is a hatecrime that should be condemned. "Yeah sure, you would've probably said the same thing about the utterance of "Republik Indonesia" less than 100 years ago, no?" is what I say to that. We have not successfully freed ourselves of this damn colonizer mindset!

The only reason the Netherlands ever stopped the "police actions" is because we were threatened with sanctions. Post WW2, it was stop the "police actions" (read: many war crimes) or lose the money from the Marshall Plan needed to rebuild your ruined country. The choice was easy enough.

But noooooo, we can't sanction Israel to get them to, ya know, STOP BOMBING HOSPITALS, SCHOOLS AND CIVILIANS IN GENERAL!!! They're our friends! Fuck no. I know why those asshats ain't sanctioning Israel (at least one of the reasons): they'd lose access to fucking Pegasus; spyware surpreme. Wanna spy on some journalists? Perhaps the opposition? Scary activists? Pegasus is THE spyware for you! Infect ppl's phones and suck up All Teh Data wihout them knowing. Suspected detection of the stuff somehow? Self-destruct, boom. Fantastic stuff if you're into violating ppl's privacy. I don't see this talked about a lot, but Israel is Scary in the cyberwarfare department. And they sell this expertise.

I support Palestine. I hope to see it freed someday. Hopefully soon

To Israel(is): decolonize ur shit. I know, it's hard, it's painful, you'll have to question and unlearn a lot of things. Heck, it may give you an existential and/or moral crisis for a bit. I still get one about nutmeg sometimes. But just like desinfecting a wound, it is ultimately beneficial.

PALESTINIAN PEOPLE DESERVE LIFE AS MUCH AS ANY OTHER PEOPLE

[woahiwrite]

hello!! i saw you were taking requests and wanted to send one!! i’ve been binge reading your headcanons too!! you’re such a good writer 🫶🏼

i was wondering if you could do kenshi with a princess! reader please 😵✨💗 thank you and i hope you have a good one!

Kenshi x Princess!Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of blood, not very graphic, no actual injuries to reader or any of the kast. Reader is female and described as just shorter than Kenshi. For the purpose of the story the tournament spans over a few months, I'd say 4 to 6, just for it to not feel like Kenshi and Reader fell for eachother in like 3 weeks[I don't know how long the tournament is but that is how it felt in the game]. Open ending

Thank you for enjoying my writing, you have a good one as well! For story reasons I decided to come up with another realm for the reader to be princess of, also because this ask gave me so much muse I came up with a bunch of lore too so I apologize if this isn't quite what you had in mind😭. I might make this into something more if enough people want it and I find myself with enough motivation to do so. I quite enjoyed this ask and I think it shows.

• As Princess of Warrealm, you were no stranger to kombat

• There was once a time when your realm had been prosperous, teeming with life, a true paradise

• Though that was before your birth, before your parents' birth, something you only read about in the history books

• Knowing you would be in danger if raised in your home realm, your parents sent you to Outworld, to be raised as Sindel's ward until you were old enough to join your family and hopefully break the millennium long state of war that plagued your realm

• First, you must learn how Sindel ruled and learn how to fight, training under Li Mei and one of the royal guard from your own realm

• As you came of age, you spent more time in Warrealm, participating in battles when permitted, and trying to come up with strategies to hopefully get a breakthrough

• This, is when Kenshi saw you for the first time

• Sindel had just finished her introduction of the tournament, her lips just parting as she went to welcome forth Liu Kang

• When suddenly, her eyes drifted over, and she seemed to still

▪︎ "Woah, who is that?"

• Hearing Johnny's question, Kenshi turned to follow his gaze, and he immediately found himself intrigued, though also concerned

• Strutting forward, bloodied spear in hand, you made your way towards the throne, your skin dripping, and clothes soaked, with crimson

• Sindel watched you approach, ignoring the worried glances from Kitana and Mileena as you knelt before the steps

▪︎ "Empress, I am sorry for this interruption."

▪︎ "Do not worry yourself, I have been awaiting your return, you are unharmed?"

▪︎ "Yes, Empress."

• Sindel seemed to visibly relax, and she nodded her head with a small smile

▪︎ "Good, go clean yourself up, the tournament will begin soon."

• You stood, turning swiftly, before walking out of the throne room without so much as a glance spared to anyone else

• Bloodied footsteps trailed behind you, leaving Kenshi to wonder if it may stain the pristine white floors, and if so, why Sindel didn't seem mad you did so

• He did not see you again until the banquet that night

• You were seated beside him, looking amused at the disgusted side glances he sent towards Kung Lao and the slightly worried ones he gave to his own plate

▪︎ "The food of Outworld is not much too different than that served in Earthrealm, it will not harm you."

• Kenshi looked at you in shock, and then quickly shook his head

▪︎ "That isn't it at all, Princess."

• It was your turn to be shocked

▪︎ "Pardon?"

▪︎ "Oh, are you not one? I had assumed because of how close you had seemed with the royal family."

▪︎ "I am, just..not from Outworld. A story for a later date, perhaps. My story won't provide much entertainment to your dinner."

▪︎ "I'm not that hungry."

• You gave him an apprehensive look, before nodding your head

• You explained to him the history of your Realm, unsure as to if he would know it or not

• That Warrealm was once called Idyllrealm, and that it was once a place unlike any other

• Some from Chaosrealm had came and formed their own battalions, hellbent on taking down the royal family so that Idyllrealm could be a true paradise, another realm gloriously free like their own

• The war seemed never-ending, as people became corrupt by Chaosrealm ideals

•  Idyllrealm received little aid even with their good relations with Outworld

• As time went on, Idyllrealm was better termed as Warrealm, for the battles that waged on constantly

▪︎ "So, Outworld is like a safe haven for you?"

▪︎ "Precisely."

• Kenshi was further intrigued by you then, there was just so much to learn from you

• To learn about you

• He could relate with you on wanting to free your people from corruption, and if he wasn't so focused on saving his Clan, he would've offered his aid to you right then and there

• Though, he didn't know how much of a help he would be without any abilities to aid in such warfare with people who seemed to come out of fantasy stories

• But to say it was love at first sight would be incorrect

• It was more admiration

• Though that admiration didn't take very long to turn into love

• You had found Kenshi attractive, not just for his looks, but his personality and his goal that was so similar to yours

• You didn't really realize, but the both of you quickly became good friends

• Even despite the Earthrealmers taking victory after victory in the tournament, you felt no ill will towards them

• If anything, you almost rooted for them to win

• Outworld did not need any battle, and you knew General Shao did enjoy the thrill of bloodshed, he had even aided in a few battles in Warrealm

• So if Earthrealm won, the realms would stay in peace, and it would allow you to keep your mind set

• After all, if Outworld fell into war, you would almost feel obligated to fight alongside them

• Most of your life was spent there, after all

• Though to take your minds off those thoughts, you always could talk with Kenshi

• He told you about life in Earthrealm, and you told him about life in Outworld

• You'd often share drinks together, sometimes alone, sometimes with the company of the other Earthrealmers

• They all liked to hear your stories

• (You ignored the flirtatious comments by the one who went by Johnny Cage)

• It was all good and fun

• You made friends with the Earthrealmers, and even sparred with them whenever you all wanted to

• Of course, you hid this knowledge from Sindel, Mileena, and Kitana

• You didn't know if they would accept any sort of relations with those of Earthrealm outside of the tournament

• Even ones as innocent as friendship

• Though you knew you wanted more than that with the swordsman

• As time continued to pass, and the tournament grew closer to its end, you found yourself growing dreary

• Kenshi felt the same

• It showed in one of your nights basking in the moonlight, drinks in hand, staring out over the city

▪︎ "Raiden fights General Shao and Princess Mileena in a few days."

▪︎ "Are you worried for him?"

▪︎ "Not quite, I think he'll be fine. He is the champion for a reason."

▪︎ "Then why do you sound so somber?"

▪︎ "I'll miss the view here in Outworld, it's quite..beautiful."

• Glancing over at him, you found Kenshi to already be looking at you

▪︎ "Outworld is home to many of my fondest memories. I find myself making new ones a lot more, recently. Some fonder than others."

• Stepping closer to you, Kenshi slightly leaned against the railing as he looked down at you, the distant explosions from fireworks reflecting in his gaze

▪︎ "What are your favorite ones?"

▪︎ "How about I show you?"

• Feeling his hand come up to cup the side of your face, your hand gripped the side of his suit jacket, keeping him close as your lips pressed together

• The kiss was more passionate than you had expected, your heart thudding in your chest as you stepped even closer to him

• When you pulled apart, you were both left breathless

• Tongue briefly darting out to lick your lips, you smiled up at him as he did down to you

▪︎ "There, my most loved memory yet."

▪︎ "I'm glad I made the list, though I hope I won't have to become a memory."

• You huffed, pulling back from him but dragging your hand down until you held his hand in yours

▪︎ "Hopefully not."

[catgirlbussy]

holy shit i just realised im autistic

i know this seems like a shitpost, and tbf i am laughing at myself pretty hard rn. it's dawning on me at 6 AM after being awake all night, but (if you care, and if you don't feel free to ignore too, have a nice day!) hear me out, cause this genuinely feels meaningful and insightful for me with how my life has gone so far. I spent an hour writing this post in hopes someone might find it helpful too :3c

If you don't wanna read my post pls enjoy this picture of our famous friend autism baby stackin those cans before you go~♪

(source: wikipedia)

l

like i already /knew/ I was before this moment, but i was thinkin about what i used to do as a kid and wow i am so autistic how the fuck did i not realise sooner. It straight up wasn't until I was already well into my 20's that I started to meet other autistic people online and learned about their experiences and difficulties from talking with them that I realised a lot of things they described matched for me too.

I live in assfuck nowhere so most of my life the only few times that I had met autistic people were like, folks who were nonverbal or whatever, just generally needing direct assistive care, and I never bothered to look things up on my own because I was already inundated with the pressures of growing up, school, mental health, etc. I remember one of the first times I had built up the courage to ask anyone about it, I was in the hospital because of mental health issues. This was in my second year uni, and when one of the doctors assessing me was asking me questions, I said I thought maybe I was autistic. He promptly and with a fair amount of snark told me that if I was autistic I wouldn't have gotten into university.

Thinking back, he was probably just an exhausted, fresh outta school resident with no special interest in psychiatric care (and also just seemed to suck in general), but it was enough that I shelved the idea for another 5 years.

Lo and behold, now I am lying here in bed, just absolutely gobsmacked by the VERY REAL idea that im autistic and like holy shit I feel so vindicated.

I've been on tumblr for just a bit, but I see a lot of folks talking in various neurodivergent circles about their experiences and that's been so wonderful for me. I also have a few good friend groups w/ a lot of neurodivergent folks, and that's been really exciting too.

Like, I'm still processing this cognitively as I'm writing, so please pardon this ill patterned post, but this feels like such a beneficial thing for me. Over time I've adapted a few strategies here and there to help myself accomplish various tasks, but now I feel so empowered to, like... actually figure stuff out.

Even after feeling confident I was autistic, it was this nebulous, floating concept in my head for so long of, "oh yeah im autistic or something idk," that I never really dedicated much effort to finding healthier ways to do things that didn't irk me or whatever. I don't feel like the label /itself/ is what is important to me here, but rather the awareness around why I do so many things in the ways that I do and that it's /okay/ that I do.

I don't want this post to go on too much longer, but I feel it's worth noting that I've fought for years with my family because they didn't understand why I was going about things the way I did. Again, remember, they all grew up in this cloistered hellhole too. But, surprise surprise, the times in my life that I have been doing better than any other are when I felt confident enough to ignore what everyone was trying to get me to go along with and instead just fashioned my own best methods (which also sometimes included informing said overbearing individual(s) to go fuck themselves cause I'm busy doing shit. It's hard for them to argue with me telling them as much when I would be completing X objective well, which is what they wanted in the first place).

I don't want to make this sound like I'm trying to be overconfident, but I mention as much instead as a sign of support for other neurodivergent folks to feel similarly empowered to drum to their own beat. Thinking back, I went from almost failing high school and ultimately retaking a grade to excelling in all my classes. Every single one. I know that's a relative assessment, you got variable difficulty levels, etc., and the grade score isn't important in and of itself, least of all because the school systems here (Canada) are a mess it seems, but just that alone as an idea, within the parameters of a particular system, I went from initial abject failure to thorough and lauded success.

Just think of what so many people could do if they weren't being pigeonholed into formats that absolutely aren't working for them.

I already have a boatload of (genuinely helpful by way of enabling access to proper education and treatment) diagnoses from my history of working with my (very wonderful and genuinely caring and helpful) psychiatrist that match with what I know about the neurodivergence term umbrella like ADHD, OCD, and bipolar, so it seems |autism| will feel quite at home in the group ^w^. I'll ask her about it at my next appointment to see if an official diagnosis has any value versus me just continuing to figure things out on my own.

Either way, I am thrilled right now thinking about the next time I get to shout

"FUCK YOU IM DOING AUTISTIC SHIT"

while an electric guitar squeals and lightning strikes all around me and I make cool stuff happen :3c.

[ghostinthegallery]

Hello Ghost! How about 'Stay with me' 'I forgive you' and 'please hold me' for Orizyn?? Just...please don't permakill any of them? Please 🙏 if you see this

Final prompt request for berill66 (from this lovely list)! “I forgive you” Trazyn/Orikan let’s goooooooo

“I am trying to concentrate.”

Orikan clearly meant that he wished for Trazyn to remove his hand from the astromancer’s shoulder plate. He even punctuated the comment with a pointed glare from his emerald monocular. Trazyn ignored him, instead running his fingers lightly over the living metal which tingled with energy at his caress.

“Don't let me distract you, diviner.” Trazyn stared at the array of glyphs and cryptek’s symbols floating in the air around them. “Besides, you're the one who invited me to witness this.”

“I did not invite you.” Orikan adjusted his position as he floated, legs crossed in midair. “I simply neglected to shoot you out of the atmosphere when you arrived.”

“That's the same thing, coming from you.”

Above them, the domed ceiling of Orikan's tower opened like a massive eye. It revealed a rare clear night on Mandragora, diamond-like stars glittering on a velvet canvas. Trazyn felt a stab of melancholy as he searched for familiar constellations that no longer existed. 

“How do you do it?” Trazyn asked. “Rely on the stars when they are treacherous and ever changing?” 

“Not all of us need to keep things locked away in stasis to make use of them,” Orikan replied, hands twisting in bizarre shapes. “We don’t need the crutch.”

“But some things in the universe really must be contained.” Trazyn stepped away from the astromancer. The increase in energy around Orikan’s necrodermis started to spark across his own and it was growing uncomfortable. “I forgive you, by the way. For releasing all those tyranids on Solemnace. You are lucky Sannet made a full recovery, otherwise I would have held that grudge far longer.”

Orikan scoffed. “I never asked you for your forgiveness.”

“You did not, but I am magnanimous enough to grant it anyway.”

Irritation flashed across Orikan’s nodes, enhanced by the astral energies gathering around the orbs that ran down his back. He was an open book right now. Trazyn wondered if he realized. Either way, it was a golden opportunity.

“Do you accept my offer of peace?” Trazyn asked, unable to resist needling his rival.

“Why should I?” Orikan said. “Unleashing a tyranid on an unsuspecting victim is your trick. I simply responded in kind.”

Trazyn sighed. “Are you still upset about the genestealer patriarch? I told you, it was all in good fun.”

“It tried to kill me!”

Orikan shuddered as he yelled, his position in the air unsteady. He hissed in frustration, righted himself, and adjusted the position of his fingers.

“Now you are distracting me,” he said, annoyance shifting into anger.

“My most sincere apologies,” Trazyn said. “Perhaps I should ask you to forgive me for that as well as the patriarch.”

“Why should I forgive you for anything?” Orikan uttered the word forgive like a curse. He seemed to despise it nearly as much as he despised orkish.

“To forgive is divine,” Trazyn said. “You seek the power of a god. Shouldn’t you learn a bit more about the obligations that come with that? Supplicants will surely come seeking your forgiveness for their sins.”

“And what business is that of mine?” Orikan started to glow as he spoke. A subtle shine overtaking his form which would soon grow like an ember blossoming into a bonfire.

“I have thought about that,” Trazyn said, more than happy to shift the discussion to theological analysis. “Yes, most religions hold some tennant that to sin is to sin against god specifically, regardless of the fact that no god of which I am aware can truly be hurt by the petty foibles of their followers. However, I think it has more to do with power. To forgive is not an easy thing, Orikan. A fact I surely do not have to explain to you. But a god has the power to grant pardons in a way mortals often do not.”

Orikan did not seem to be listening. Trazyn forgave him for that too. After all, an overlord may not be a god, but Trazyn held power and power protected him from the consequences of forgiveness. The vulnerability and weakness that came with it. He would never be the humble seer, powerless to prevent the disaster he knew was coming. If he had, well, he doubted he would be as generous. 

The change happened more quickly than Trazyn had expected. In one moment he was staring at Orikan, a shell of turquoise and gold and silver much like Trazyn himself. Then the shell broke like a chrysalis, and something else emerged. Light and energy roughly in the form of his rival, but so fundamentally different Trazyn was unsure if he could still call this thing Orikan.

The being turned on him. Rushed forward in a torrent of crackling power that enveloped Trazyn and held him in place. Fear and fascination warred in his flux. Despite the circumspection protocols preparing him for a fight, he kept still, staring into the single eye that had taken on the appearance of a sun. It thrilled him, knowing that this infant star god could destroy him, that it had every reason to do so. And yet Trazyn had faith that it would not.

When it spoke, it spoke in Orikan’s voice.

“Gods do forgive,” it whispered, and the whisper shook Trazyn’s neural matrices like the shifting of tectonic plates. “And I forgive you. For being antithetical to everything I have believed about the world. Vain, brilliant, and stubborn bastard. You are everything I could ever want in the universe, held within everything I have ever hated. And yet for now I forgive you.”

For now. It would not last. It never could. But Trazyn basked in the moment of absolution all the same. He reached up and touched Orikan’s crest, traced what he was surprised to find was still a solid line. How strange, he reflected, for a member of a race that had destroyed their gods to seek the ecstasy that came from the divine’s embrace. He had no soul to cleanse, but even this temporary indulgence felt like a weight lifting from his core.

Though perhaps that had more to do with his choice of god than anything else.

“I accept wholeheartedly,” Trazyn said. “Now, oh diviner, what other rewards do you have for your humble supplicant?”

“Hm, always greedy, aren’t you?”

Orikan drew him into the air, a gentle embrace which nonetheless scorched Trazyn’s necrodermis black. Pain that was well worth the benefits that came after. He clung to the astromancer with religious fervor, and Orikan responded in kind, sending tendrils of raw energy around his limbs and neck, gentle and teasing. Brushing his neural nodes and eliciting light moans of pleasure. 

“I confess to my faults,” Trazyn managed, though it was difficult to focus on speaking. Orikan, or whatever this thing might be, shimmered with satisfaction. 

“Then come and receive your absolution.”

[highlordofkrypton]

Wildflowers, a Tamlin x Rhysand prequel fic

Notes: Please ignore the typo in the graphic, this is chapter 10! Kind reminder that this fic is complete, just click the Wildflowers link above. This is a super cute chapter, and one of my favs, so enjoy!

Chapter 10

Friendships between Fae are not beholden to time, war or disaster. They exist in an enduring fashion, just like the Fae themselves. Should each participant will it, they will find one another. Should they desire it, they will be friends forever. The only change Fae succumb to are their emotions, be it anger, bitterness, jealousy, fondness, kindness or anything immortals deign to feel. Some old (High) Lords choose their power over everything else, offering every other meaningful relationship up in exchange for it. 

The young still have hope in each other.

Hello, little wildflower. It occurred to me today, does it offend you if I call you ‘little’?

Over the course of the past year, Rhysand and Tamlin have been exchanging messages. It is a betrayal of the highest order, and there is a chance their fathers will forgive them for it in a century or so, but for now, they make sure to encode their correspondences. 

(Tamlin reads the stars,

Rhysand listens to the whisper of the trees.)

As long as you know that I am everything but little.

Even if they were to be discovered, the words that have been passed on to one another are nothing but gentle taunts and honest thoughts. No warfare intelligence has left their lips or their enchantments. Both of them have had enough of the bloodshed. 

Won’t I ever get a nickname? The stars wink on Rhysand’s behalf, conveying the way he bats his eyes sweetly.

You already have one. It’s bat boy.

Pardon you, it’s bat man .

***

Their correspondences are the highlight of Tamlin’s routine; it breaks up the anger and the sorrow. He might even be free of his guilt during the handful of moments that he ponders his reply to the prince of the Night.

What is… your favourite colour?

Tamlin chuckles, wondering if the cloudy night will report his amusement back to their master. He hopes they do, just as much as he longs for the nightbloom to reflect the glint of Rhysand’s playful smile.

Are you a child? What kind of question is that?

The easy kind. Would you like me to debate you on Court politics then? How about the ethics of war? Perhaps your thoughts on battle strategy as reflected in Peregrine of the East?

Tamlin shakes his head. I’ve actually read that book. It’s Lady —

Stellina’s favourite , the shadows complete on Rhysand’s behalf. They dance against the ground, cast by the moonlight against the world between them. It’s laughter in disguise. You know about Book Club, then?

Mhm. I even met your mother, once. She was glamoured, though.

The surprise comes through loud and clear, despite no other indication of it. It must be the silence. Finally, it’s Tamlin’s turn to render Rhysand speechless.

You still haven’t answered the question, darling. He says nothing more about his mother and Tamlin learns not to say anything more about it. Mothers are precious. He’s overstepped.

I don’t have a favourite colour .

Somewhere in the camp, there’s a gasp of surprise and Tamlin wonders if Rhysand has anything to do with that. It wouldn’t be beneath the young lord to use magic (and others) to speak on his behalf. A good scare with the darkness would be more than enough.

Impossible, everyone has a favourite colour. You must have had one when you were a child.

It takes Tamlin over an hour to reply. Granted, he was distracted by war-work. In the end, he settles with the simplest and most obvious answer that comes to mind.

It was between green and violet.

Oh? The green, I expected, but violet? Are you trying to tell me something, wildflower?

I’m saying you are a good friend, Bat Man, and that I have a good memory.

***

Games are not outside the question. They further this mysterious bond between part-time enemies. Chess is far too obvious. Even the most inattentive soldiers began to notice the patterns in the stars, repeating themselves every night with the slightest changes. It was beginning to puzzle the astronomers.

As the resident rule-abider in this relationship, Tamlin never starts the communications or the games. It’s always Rhysand; he’s far too determined to ignore and Tamlin finds that the messages grow more demanding in their impishness, especially on the days where big battles are reported. Today, it was a great aerial battle with mass casualties. The Illyrians have yet to put their pride aside to work with the Seraphs. This is good news for the Loyalists, but the Liberation… has Rhysand on their side.

Never is a strong word. It’s never too late to change.

Never have I ever run away from home.

Oh, what’s this now, wildflower? Are you planning to give all of this up and live as a foraging hermit?

No. You like to ask nonsensical questions about me. Now, you have an unsolicited fact about my childhood. Enjoy.

Never have I ever run away from home , Rhysand affirms. Where did you go? He never digs too deeply and avoids asking why. The information that he learns is only by Tamlin’s volition. It never escapes either of them that they’re still in the middle of a bloody war. 

Just the forests around my house.

You mean the forests that cover about ninety-nine percent of the largest territory in Prythian?

They’re not that big when you know everyone that lives in them.

You are a wonder, wildflower. Tell me about these forest friends.

Tamlin has long stopped worrying about the information shared. He shares the details in parts, either too specific or too vague for anyone to do anything with. What’s Rhysand going to do with the old willow tree that’s watched over him for most of his life? At worst, he’s going to get all the Spring Court gossip that won’t do him a lick of good in Court politics. At best, they’re going to tea tree gossip about Tamlin specifically.

***

The justice in Tamlin’s heart hammers against his chest, crumbling under the weight of what he’s asked to do, day after day. He lays in his ornate commander’s tent, a gilded cage for his father’s prized fighting bull. Sleep abandons him, deeming him unworthy of its peace.

Sunflower?

Just like that, the storm in his heart quells. Rhysand’s magic is a balm to his guilt.

You’re making names up now.

Do you dislike them?

A beat of silence passes between them, followed by Tamlin’s soft answer. I do not.

I can’t sleep. Humour me.

I thought you said I have no sense of humour.

You don’t, so just go along with me is what I’m saying.

Go on.

If you did not have the status that you currently have, or your position in your Court… If you could be anyone, who would you be?

Tamlin smiles at the way Rhysand dances around the details, a barely masked question for anyone who is actually listening. Even with their identities revealed, there isn’t much to use against them, just dreams that can never be.

I would be an explorer, but not an academic , the Spring son finally says.

Ah, so you would travel, but keep all your secrets to yourself? Selfish, wildflower.

Tamlin chuckles softly to himself. I’d be willing to share. With the right person.

Oh? And who would that be? A dashing tall, dark and handsome Faerie with a clever tongue and far too much money at his disposal? You’ll need a sponsor for your adventures.

Hm. He sounds interesting. Do you know anyone like that?

You’re… you’re not serious, are you? I can’t hear tone through the grapevines.

I guess you’ll never know.

Wildflower!

***

There are days, weeks and even months when one or the other goes quiet and a nettle of fear snags in their hearts.

Are you well, sunshine? You’ve been awfully quiet.

I’m tired.

What they say to one another is more than words; it is puffs of magic embedded in their elements. Exhaustion embeds itself into Rhysand’s bones, and he feels the toll this war is taking on someone so young. So, he tries to make him laugh in little, stupid ways. 

Until one day— one day —the war bleeds into this precious thing, too.

I can’t find my brother, shouts the blood moon. The Loyalists think it is the Liberation mourning their losses for the day, but Tamlin knows better.

Tell me everything you know, groans an old oak that has stood the test of battle. Rhysand tells Tamlin everything he’s gathered so far.

[foggyparadisecandy]

Playing what if games with the past is not useful.

All we know for certain is we are where we are. People made choices. Things happened as they happened.

We can spend time on what we missed out on or we can choose to see what was opened up.

Right now, I’m relatively happy that I’ve finally been motivated to work on improving myself, despite the struggles I felt over the last few months. Without that horrible pain, I would not be on this new journey to become a stronger version of me.

I set - and am hitting - huge growth goals, personal, financial, interpersonal, physical, mental, and more.

I think I’ve made good progress on self-image. I’m only now starting to understand things friends have been telling me for months.

It’s been exhausting work ngl.

I believe I finally understand boundaries and their importance in helping my self-esteem. Still working on setting them and sticking to them. But at least now I understand them … it’s progress.

I know there are a lot of people who feel this stuff is commonsense. Please pardon my ignorance. I’m learning fast as I can.

I shared the pain. Now I’m sharing the healing.

[alondradina]

Domaystic day 2: A stash of...

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Harry/Tom Riddle

Rating: T

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46893625/chapters/118179598#workskin

-

"So… It's been a couple weeks. How are things going with Tom?" Hermione casually inquired. Her video bounced erratically until she set her tablet down on the bedside table.

Ron laughed, voice staticky over the speaker. "Yeah, does he ever leave his room?"

"Of course he leaves his room," Hermione scolded. "I meet with him in the library once a week."

"I have calc two with him," Harry offered, pretending to misunderstand Ron's question, "so that's at least twice a week."

"I never see him," Ron grumbled.

"Aw! Is ickle Ronniekins sad?" One of the twins teased.

"You don't even know who we're talking about!"

"He sure is, Forge," the other twin answered, gleefully ignoring Ron.

Harry wished Ron's camera worked. It was always hilarious when the twins got hold of people's phones.

"But why, Gred?"

"Can you guys get the fuck out of my room?!"

"His room, he says," a twin chuckled.

The other joined in. "Pretty sure his name isn't on the lease."

"Guys-"

"Now, who is this mysterious dreamboat little Ronny is so despondent to have missed?"

"Fred! That's not-!"

"Pardon me, but that is, in fact, not Fred. I am Fred."

"I don't give a fuck-!"

One of the twins tsk'ed. "Such language!"

"A shame upon our house!"

"Mother would be appalled!"

There was a loud thunk as the phone presumably fell, and then a series of scuffling noises and yelling. Then silence.

Little Ronny poo is on mute until he learns to behave himself.

But please do tell us all about your friend.

Hermione sighed. "This wasn't really intended to be a public conversation, guys. The three of us are just trying to catch up after the first few weeks of classes."

Sounded rather like gossip to us.

Harry chuckled. "Maybe a little."

So dish.

"I have a roommate, Tom Riddle, and he-"

Oh!

We've heard about him!

"You have?" Hermione questioned, her image leaning closer to the tablet.

Who hasn't heard about the poor, exiled snakey?

"Snake?" Hermione's question came at the same time as Harry's, "Exiled?"

They wouldn't let him live in the Slytherin dorm.

Harry frowned. "Why?"

You'd have to ask him. They're a tight lipped bunch.

"Harry Potter?" A querulous voice called from his door.

Harry quickly set his phone down and jogged off with a quick, "Just a sec, guys!"

"Harry? What-?"

The rest of Hermione's question was cut off as he shut the door behind him. Turning around, he smiled at the shrunken old man nervously twitching around the kitchenette.

"Hey, Dobby."

"Hello, Harry!" The grin on his wrinkled face could have lit up the room, if he didn't have cheap, yellowed dentures.

Harry couldn't help but smile in return, though. "How's it going?"

"Where are the dishes? The trash?" Dobby questioned, waving his left hand around the dorm while keeping his right on his hip. "You boys are too helpful!"

"We were told-"

Dobby made a rude noise. "I will do the cleaning for you."

"And for me?" Tom drawled, quietly shutting his bedroom door before locking it. He turned to them and raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware that you had a personal housekeeper, Harry. Lucky us."

"He isn't-!"

"Tom Riddle, you do not need help. You are a very clean boy."

"Flatterer," Tom bowed mockingly and headed for the door. He stopped, the door open just a crack, to fix Harry with a flat look. "Leave my things alone."

Harry scoffed. "I wouldn't touch anything of yours."

Tom nodded after a moment, eyes still trained on Harry's, before slowly easing the door shut.

There was a moment of silence, before Harry scuffed a foot on the wooden floor and glanced down at Dobby. "Am I not a 'very clean' boy?"

"You are teasing me," the housekeeper grumbled. Padding over to the bathroom, he sighed. "Even the bathroom is clean. What will I clean now?"

"It's really alright," Harry soothed, following Dobby over and shutting the door. "I was raised to clean up after myself. I think Tom was as well."

Dobby's answer was an unamused 'hmph' as he wandered the apartment, presumably checking it for any errant messes.

A loud shriek of "HARRY!" reminded him that he'd left the video call going. Walking backwards to his room, Harry smiled at Dobby. "Gotta get back to my friends."

The old man immediately began following him. "Is your room clean?"

"I mean, it's clean enough-"

Dobby snorted and eased himself into the room before Harry could bring himself to object.

"Who the fuck is that?" Ron's voice called.

"Language, Ronald," Hermione reprimanded sweetly. "You wouldn't want the twins to hear now, would you?"

Ron grumbled something unflattering, and Hermione turned her nose up. It might have been more effective if he could see her, but he seemed to somehow know he was pushing his luck and quickly moved on.

"So what did you go off for?"

"Went to talk to Dobby."

"What's a Dobby?"

"Honestly, Ron! Do you pay any attention-"

"Not if I can help it."

"Are these your friends?"

"Hermione," Harry pointed at her image on his phone. She waved and Dobby waved back. "And then Ron's camera isn't working, so you can only hear him."

"It is nice to meet Harry's friends," Dobby proclaimed, grinning at a giggling Hermione before nudging Harry and staring between the unmade bed and the boy. "Harry Potter."

"No one comes in here, Dobby. It really doesn't matter."

Dobby 'hmph'ed and began making the bed. Once that was done, he started a circuit around the room to organize anything even slightly out of place.

Harry sighed and glanced at his phone. Hermione was smothering her giggles with her hands.

"What's going on?" Ron demanded. "I can't see what's happening, you know. What's so funny?"

"I'll just get out of your way," Harry mumbled, escaping the housekeeper's disapproval. He sighed again and began to flop on the couch, before changing his mind and springing back up. "You guys want to see something weird?"

"I won't see shit," Ron grumbled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Then get your camera fixed, Ronald. Otherwise stop complaining."

"You don't know-"

"Here's one!" Harry called, gladly interrupting their bickering. He pulled one of the kitchen drawers out and pointed the phone into the cavity. "Can you see it, Hermione?"

"See what?!"

"It looks like… a bunch of junk?" Hermione answered hesitantly.

Harry placed his phone on the counter and jiggled the drawer back in place. "Yeah. Just some junk."

"And we care about that, why?"

"It's Tom's junk. He has little hidey holes of just random trash hidden all over the place. He caught me checking this place out the other day, and laughed at me."

Ron scoffed. "Trash? He's hiding trash?"

"It's not really hiding if he puts them in obvious places-"

"I would not have thought to pull drawers out searching for other people's belongings -" Hermione interjected with a frown.

"And if he knows that I know it's there," Harry continued, ruffling his hair. "So I just don't get it. Is it a practical joke or something?"

"Pretty fucking lame prank, if you ask me," Ron opined. "My brothers do way better."

"They do tricks for a living, Ronald. It's not the same."

"Whatever. Sounds like total BS to me. Just ignore it. Stop playing his fucked up game."

Harry shrugged before remembering that his friend couldn't see. "It's fine, Ron. I don't really care too much. It bothers Dobby more than me."

"What bothers Dobby?"

Harry smiled at the old man. "Tom's strange piles of junk."

"That does not bother me," he protested. "Now that I know Mr. Riddle has done it on purpose, and it is not garbage, I am happy to leave it be."

"Wait!" Hermione shouted, her image pushing close to the tablet in order to get a better look at the housekeeper. "Is that one of the hats I crocheted for you, Harry?"

"Uhh…"

Dobby leaned towards the phone and twirled in a little circle to show off his hat. It was a stretched out navy stocking cap with wide gaps between the amateur stitches. Maroon chain stitches were prominently displayed underneath the gaps in the top layer. "Harry gave me his hats! How kind he is!"

Hermione's lower lip stuck out in a subtle pout. "I made those for you, Harry."

"Does he want my hats, too, Harry?"

"Ronald-"

"How about a scarf? Or two?"

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione shouted, slamming a hand down next to her tablet.

"What?!"

"I can't believe-"

"Well," Harry tried to interject, knowing that neither of them were paying any attention to him at this point, "I think we should probably call it a night-"

The door clicked open, and Tom entered the apartment. He frowned at the yelling coming from Harry's phone, and Harry ducked his head to hiss, "Good night, guys. Talk to you tomorrow."

"You didn't answer my question!" Hermione protested.

"Yeah!" Ron shouted. "Dobby didn't say whether he was going to take all this knitting-"

"Crotchet, Ron! It's-"

"-crotchet or whatever off my hands!"

"Good night!" Harry repeated, ending the call and quickly silencing his phone. It started vibrating immediately, and he shoved it into his pocket before looking for Tom and Dobby. The housekeeper was nowhere to be seen. Raising his eyebrows, Harry was about to start checking the other rooms when Tom stepped in his way.

"He left while your friends were arguing."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "Ah. Thanks."

Tom waved a hand dismissively and moved out of Harry's way.

Plopping on the sagging loveseat, Harry was startled to find that Tom had followed. "Uh, can I help you?"

"Did you find anything interesting?" Tom inquired, perching on the closest arm of the loveseat.

"What do you mean?" Harry scooted away to make room for the other boy, who shook his head when he noticed.

"You've been looking through my things."

"I have been accidentally finding piles of junk crammed into random nooks and crannies."

"How do you accidentally pull out an entire drawer and then look inside it?"

"I mean-"

Tom held a hand palm out to Harry, who cut himself off. "It's good to know that my roommate can't be trusted not to snoop-"

"Hey! That's-"

"-but at least you aren't a thief."

Harry frowned at him. "Was this a test?"

"It was certainly a test of my patience," Tom allowed, smirking when Harry snorted in response. "Now, in all seriousness, do your best to keep your curiosity to yourself. If it is not yours, then leave it alone."

Rolling his eyes, Harry found the remote and began channel surfing. "Yeah, whatever. Sounds good."

"Don't stay up too late," Tom warned. Harry glanced over, and he smiled blandly before sliding off the loveseat's arm and heading behind Harry. "We've got a test tomorrow, after all."

"Shit."

[letrune]

I saw the lady enter with the massive dog. It had glamour on, I almost wanted to ignore the dog, but then I seen the two other heads. You learn how to notice it if a dog ever bites you. I also noted that my plastic cactus sprouted an equally plastic flower on the desk.

"Greetings, Milady Persephone." I said, and she was shocked for a moment.

"I am just Missis Penelope Aurum, regular lady, if you may." She said. I smiled.

"Of course, pardon me. How can I help, Mrs. Aurum?"

"My husband has a big business meeting and he needs our little Spot to be away for a day or two."

"Certainly! Hope it will go well. You will pick Ke-Spot up, or your husband?"

"Oh, he said that a friend of his will come in. Name's Her- uh, moment." She opened her very expensive purse and got a notebook out of it. It was a bit out of date, but time in that other Underworld was meaningless anyways. Why they chose my Earth was still confusing to me. "A Mr. Atherenis."

"Atherenis, all right, thank you. Is Spot having anything we need to know? Special diet, or such?"

"Oh, he eats like three dogs." Persephone smiled. I bet she was waiting to say this.

"All right, marked on his profile... thank you again. Please have a lovely day!"

She left and I led Spot to the dogcare. It was a big interior stay. Glamour made it look like a normal dogcare floor but for any supernatural beings, it was an extensive park the size of Rhode Island, and then some. I never finished crossing it because then I would have needed a gokart or a car or something. I blew into the soft whistle.

"Hey everyone, this is Spot, some of you may know him."

Two massive dogs walked to me. For humans, they seemed like a giant wolfhound and a huge St. Bernard, but for anyone in the know, it was obvious that one of them was the world-eating wolf Fenrir and the other was... Well, the other was probably from the same species as Clifford the big red dog, except this one was blue.

Our doors open to many worlds.

"I wish you all to know, no rough play, no fights, and no breaking the glamour when someone visits, okay? Okay. Good dogs!" One black vizsla ran up to me, anyone knowing them as the "Bonelicker" would been shocked to see how the dog gently the new playfriend.

The bell rang again, so I walked out. A man was at the counter. He would have been looking like your biker guy in a big cowboy hat if he was any good at the hiding part. I decided I ignore the big red shine in the eyes.

"Welcome sir, how may I help?"

"I came for... for a pick up."

"A name please and which dog you look for."

"My name's... Caleb...?"

"Ummm, Caleb Remington?" I proposed. That was the name he gave a few days back.

"Yes, yes. Sorry. Long months of fights."

"Yea, a few days in the office grind seem like a month, right?" I joked. He did not got it. "It's... It's like the glamour thing. Just... you know." He did not. I not pressed on.

"Okay, dog should be one big labrador, black fur, name's Hellhound, alias Hella. Is that correct?"

He nodded.

"Well, I got to see some identification, sir."

He presented his business card, forming at the moment he pulled it. It was good enough, seeing thru it I knew exactly which dog it is. I walked in the stay area and whistled again.

"Hella! Your pop's here!"

The many dogs were running and two ran up to me. Both were in the shape of black labradors, but one was but a shadow of the other. They became one black dog with huge red eyes, gently hopping up me and licking my face.

"Okay girl, good job. Your pop's here."

Hella was overjoyed, and ran out to the lobby, forming into the man's shadow and wringling her way up the biker jacket.

"Very good girl, isn't she?"

"...yes... she is." Awww, Caleb was embarassed for a moment. The door opened behind him and a man slipped on the seat behind, silent and uneasy.

"Thank you for choosing us, Mr. Remington, and have a lovely day." I said, enforcing his glamour for a moment, so it seemed like he held the black labrador puppy as he left. The doors opened to a different world than the one the man slipped in from.

"Greeting sir, can I help?"

As he scratched his chin, his glamour... "unfailed". It was a mundane guy. He was wearing a business suit and presented a card - he was from animal services. An auditor. I got up and put up the "carer out, will be back soon" sign on the desk.

"Please be very careful, these dogs are incredibly playful and too cute." I said as I led him into the staying area. It snapped to the mundane glamour. Lots of dogs in a big, relatively open floor, a small cage-like setup around us. The least mundane thing here was that the St. Bernard was throwing a tiny chiuauaua up and down a few times and the little dog let him. The guy wrote something up in his phone and took pictures.

"Why are there so many dog bowls still filled?"

"We are expecting a few more visitors when second shift starts." I lied. "It is about... an hour."

"Hmmhmm." He murrmurred and wrote something up. Then he put his hand on the small gate and pushed it open.

All the dogs turned to him and rushed there. He was rather nice guy, petted the Hound of Baskervilles on the head, took the third moon from Fenrir's mouth, now as a tennis ball, and threw it away, gave some pets to the Queen of Labladorland (she needs a spa day too), then walked out and locked the cage gate again.

"We need to talk." He pulled me along, and I went to the office where I kept the printer, the papers and the extra balls for the dogs. Now all of them were tennis balls.

"Your business is pretty well-done. Too well-done. I need your financial records."

"Oh, we are a non-profit organisation."

"Then how can you afford pampering all these dogs?"

"By generous donations from all of our guests. I mean the owners." I giggled. "So..."

"Well, apart from making these dogs live in the lap of luxury, I see no problems."

"We had a very good year." I smiled and shook his hand. He left and I needed to get myself a tea. Gods and strange extradimensions, royal dogs and literal dog kings, that is no problem, but interacting with an auditor always freaked me out. I locked myself in the back office and let my glamour go, Lapped the tea up, then took a minute to get my fur back in shape. Okay, it was five minutes. I needed this little break.

The bell rang and I heard some woman groaning.

"Give me a minute! I will be there." I said as I channeled the fakery again, a human face, smooth skin, five fingers all in shape. I walked out fresh and clean. "Hello, how may I help?"

"Hello, I came to leave my little Scruffy here." The dog said in an obviously fake voice. I cleared my throat, so she managed to move the faked woman's mouth now.

You run a dog daycare, and many of the dogs are…not ordinary. Cerberos with the three heads, Fenrir the massive wolf. the Black Hound… Their owners are equally bad at hiding their identities but it’s fine, since the doggies are all well behaved.

[almaqead]

"The Hands of Allah." From Surah 5: Al Ma'idah, "The Table Setting."

The Hands of God are discussed quite a lot in the Torah, but what role do they play in the Quran? We now know because the configuration of the Values in Gematria it is true the Angel-god Gabriel did something to Muhammad so he could transcribe the Quran in the precise manner he did. This escalates its importance to an even greater level than before.

But what is the meaning of all this now, hundreds of years after Muhammad completed his Isra? You are going to love the answer:

5:11-13:

O you who have believed, remember the favor of Allah upon you when a people determined to extend their hands [in aggression] against you, but He withheld their hands from you; and fear Allah . And upon Allah let the believers rely.

And Allah had already taken a covenant from the Children of Israel, and We delegated from among them twelve leaders. And Allah said, "I am with you. 

If you establish prayer and give zakah and believe in My messengers and support them and loan Allah a goodly loan, I will surely remove from you your misdeeds and admit you to gardens beneath which rivers flow. 

But whoever of you disbelieves after that has certainly strayed from the soundness of the way."

So for their breaking of the covenant We cursed them and made their hearts hard. They distort words from their [proper] usages and have forgotten a portion of that of which they were reminded. 

And you will still observe deceit among them, except a few of them. But pardon them and overlook [their misdeeds]. Indeed, Allah loves the doers of good.

Commentary:

What does it mean for Allah's Hands to prepare the Prophet's heart in one case through the Angel and harden it in the next?

Let's look at two Values in Gematria and see:

a. And Allah had already taken a Covenant...God promised no harm would come to the Israelites if they lived life according to the rules named in the Torah. This Promise is meant for all of us. No harm must come to persons who are interested in forsaking bloodshed, violence, ignorance corruption or violations of the Decrees. Muhammad restated this is a Sacred Pact that is also true for Muslims.

The Value in Gematria is 7803, זח‎ אֶפֶסג, zach ephesag, "the First to be Number 13."

Muslims are the 13th Tribe. They are, according to the Quran the first people to adapt Judaism to the civilization God helped man to recreate after Rome nearly did away with. Huzzah!

b. The Curse...in opposition to this process are the rest, the unbelievers. The Value in Gematria is 11516, יאהאו‎, yahoo, "God or nothing."

We have been systematically and persistently choosing nothing over everything. Peace on earth depends on peace in the Middle East. Please make haste in accomplishing it. God has said all of the persons and places there fit together as part of His Plan for an Exquisite Process we are failing to achieve. Please make the necessary adjustments that we might soon correct this.

It must be positively terrifying to learn Allah is real and His Prophet carried the real burden of His Gurantees named in the Quran, but Allah and the angels trusted Muhammad as much as they trusted Moses and the results have, at times been blessed. We need the Blessings of Allah more than ever, the planet is dying underneath the heavy burden of human disbelief, but that time is now at an end, and the work needed to restore it to life cannot begin soon enough.

So welcome to the beginning of a new world containing the 13 Tribes of Israel, including a new one called the not the Sons of Ishmael, the Donkey, but the Generations of the Tribe of Muhammad, the Prophet of God. Its Formation at the Kaaba in Mecca solved the problems facing the Arab community at the time and gave it a green pasture; it is time to enter into the start of new hour and complete the process.

[casspurrjoybell-31]

The Consort's Fate - Chapter 18 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Pirate Chains - Volume 3 - Corail

Chapter 2: Knot by Knot - Part 2

Lou

"Mister Aimeri. Finally, we meet."

Haven turned towards the man and straightened his stance, I was really surprised by the speed with which he wiped the fatigue and disinterested look on his face. Now he looked smiling and courteous.

"Mister Redge. I owe you an apology. I believe I'm a bit late to our promised meeting."

They halted about a couple of steps from each other and cocked their heads slightly in a polite greeting. The lackey bowed lowly to Haven who gave him a quick smile.

"A bit late, you say? Are two months that insignificant for you, young man?"

"You know how the sails can be unpredictable sometimes. The sea does not quite go by the wishes of the merchants."

That seems to please the man, who nodded.

"It's alright, young man. With your age, it would be too much to expect you to take over your father's business without troubles like this. I've spoken about it with your father and he and I agree..."

"My father?"

"Yes. Well, when you didn't see me to discuss our future collaboration, I went to see your father. I have to say, he was very worried about you when you didn't return as scheduled. We decided that, from now on, the Aimeri's will use my shop as well in your dealings."

A tick formed in Haven's jaw but he didn't comment.

"Your father is, as usual, a very good businessman. He has a flair for the profits. You should watch him more and learn, young man."

Haven regained his smile and commented very calmly.

"Father has always been an inspiration. Unfortunately, no matter what, I will never measure to his skills. I beg your pardon, Mister Redge but I just got back from a long sail and am yet to cleanse myself."

"Of course. We will meet soon, then, I hope?"

"I will need to adjust my schedule and will certainly fit you in. Good day, Sir."

Haven nodded slightly and walked away. Not a few feet more did he stop, he cursed under his breath when he spotted a few men chatting ahead. they were also highborn. He took a sharp turn to the left and we continued that way. Every couple of steps, someone would greet him, bow or simply stop to stare at him. We soon left the busy port and found ourselves in much less crowded streets.

"Well, this part of the town certainly looks poorer."

"We're taking a longer path to avoid bumping into anyone unpleasant."

Even in these desolated streets, many still recognized and bowed to Haven. When I asked, he said they were sailors that worked for him or sailors' wives. We left the less favorable town and immediately found ourselves in a fancy one, with big beautiful houses and highborn people walking around. No matter how unsuited guarded islands were for us, we always missed their cleanness and their beautiful, well dressed and carefree women. Haven stopped and pointed to a side street.

"Over there you can find a pleasure house. They also have rooms to rent."

"Noted."

He started walking again and I followed. A few steps later, he halted again and looked back at me.

"Why are you still following me?"

"You have something more fun for me to do?"

"You can go find the pleasure house I told you about. I'll send you a servant with the fee for a room."

"I'm going wherever you go, Haven. The whores can wait. I didn't come all this way to let you go in the end. Besides, I still haven't collected what I came here for."

"I get that we have a deal, Lou. But until you decide to claim my debt, I'll need you to go elsewhere and let me handle my business."

He didn't even wait to hear my answer. He just walked away as if the discussion had ended. So I just walked after him ignore everything he said. I could hear him sigh heavily and mumble...

"Great. Now I also have to worry about an asshole pirate in my house."

I chuckled, making him shake his head. I guess he didn't have the patience to argue any longer because he went silent after that.

[pepsi1]

[PROXIMITY ALERT. MAGIC CREATURE HAS PASSED THROUGH CHECKPOINT 1.]

Bis: Ow, the fuck was that. Why'd it have to be so loud.

Peepsi: Magic creature? But Pepsi doesn't set that off, does he?

P:// He has no magic flowing through him. Just blood.

Bis: I don't like this thing you do where you ignore me.

P:// It's self explanatory isn't it? It's a

[PROXIMITY ALERT. MAGIC CREATURE HAS PASSED THROUGH CHECKPOINT 2. GATHERED DATA REPORTS POSSIBLE IMMORTAL]

P:// ...Fucking hell.

Peepsi: What?

P:// Caleb's bringing us an immortal. Hopefully they aren't a demigod, or god forbid, a god.

Bis: How do you know Caleb's bringing them

[PROXIMITY ALERT OVERRIDE. ADMIN CALEB REQUESTS ABSENCE OF PROTOCOL PHOENIX]

P:// Admin Caleb can fuck off if he's still referring to me as a protocol. I know you can hear me jackass.

[...DEACTIVATE GODKILL PROTOCOL................. PLEASE. MAGIC CREATURE IDENTIFIES AS FRITA "ROSALENE" GRIMM]

P://...She's fucking supposed to be dead.

[DIVINITY STATUS NULL. DEATH STATUS REBORN. MANA HIGH. ABILITIES RESTRAINED. INCAPABLE OF HARM.]

Peepsi: What's wrong with you. You look like you've seen a ghost.

P:// The happiest I've been was when I found out she died.

Peepsi: Well... could she help me learn magic since you refuse.

[POSITIVE]

P:// No. She may be able to teach you but it would be for her own cunning game.

Peepsi: Says the guy who openly tortures her brother in front of us.

Bis: She has a point, y'know. You ain't exactly the honest type yerself.

P:// I am honest. I am also cruel. She is deceiving. And she is beyond cruel.

Bis: Then why is your metal buddy willing to cooperate with her. It's my understandin' that you and him are alike in the knowledge department.

P:// ...Why would his logic cooperate with her? ...I'll stand down. Bring her to us Caleb.

[AFFIRMATIVE. BREACHING FINAL CHECKPOINT IN 1 MINUTE]

Peepsi: Are you sure you want to be here?

P:// No. But I cannot risk you two to be left alone with her. Not before Pepsi comes back.

Peepsi: Aww, you care about us.

P:// I do not beyond the sake curiosity, care for either of you.

[KNOCK KNOCK]

P:// Just open the damn door and get off the comms.

Caleb opens the door and Frita walks in like she owns the place, she stares at Phoenix and raises her hand with an open palm to his face and the robot instinctually flinches away.

Frita: How sweet~ You remember our little games little bird.

Peepsi: Did you just flinch.

Bis: Say uh, how didja come to hate this fox gal?

Frita: Oh he'll lie about that all day and night. But who are you? Friends of his?

Frita studies them closely, giving a stern look at Peepsi as if annoyed by her. And a soft look at Pepsi Bismol, almost with a hint of sadness.

P:// They are under my protection until Pepsi returns.

Frita: Were those his orders?

P:// No. I do not take orders from him

Frita: Unless he forces you to. We both know he still can.

P:// He has refused to do so and willingly allows me to torment him.

Frita: Well... Keeping them alive is certainly a torment.

P:// Pardon?

Frita: ...You don't know? ...You don't know!

She cackles and only settles after being embarrassed by the weirded out stares Bis and Peepsi are giving her.

Frita: Ahem. So what are your names.

Peepsi: Peepsi

Frita: Not that one little Ariel, your hidden name. That which you use in private.

Peepsi: ...It's. It's not Ariel. It's Lyra.

P:// ...Fuck. You shouldn't have done that.

Frita: Lyra. Oh Lyra, may you be blessed with the luck of your past life.

P:// You evil bastard.

Peepsi: What are you on about Phoenix. I think it's a nice gesture.

Frita looks annoyed at the robot then sighs.

P:// What, no fancy lights to follow it up with?

Frita: You don't listen to your brother. I'm incapable of harm at the moment.

Bis: What harm?

Frita: Oh nothing, uh, What's your name?

Bis: Pepsi Bismol

Frita gives him a cold stare and bares her teeth

Bis: Dandy. Fucking Dandy's my name.

Frita: How easy the weak cave to threats. Right now all my respect goes to Caleb.

C:// Thank you.

Frita: Not that it means much for a poor soul without freedom.

C:// ...

P:// ...I'm working on it.

Frita: Slowly. You know you could never compare to him in his prime. All of you bots are just little slivers of his true potential.

Peepsi: excuse me, miss Grimm.

Frita tilts her head at Peepsi and waits for her to continue

Peepsi: Can you teach me magic?

Frita: Oh. I could, I was hoping it'd be your friend here that was the curious one but sure. I've got nothing better to do while I wait.

Bis: Wait?

Peepsi: Thank you miss!

Frita: I'd prefer Frita going forward. No need to be so formal around me.

P:// I will watch you closely.

Frita: Oh little bird...

She places her digits under phoenix's chin

Frita: You won't

Electricity and hot white fire flows from her palm and the robot yelps in pain as he is given a nervous system to feel the sensation of burning heat and he starts gasping for air despite having no lungs or way to intake oxygen.

Frita: Enjoy being helpless to suffocation like I was when I "died."

Bis: ...I... What the hell did you mean no harm!?

Frita: To humans. Not to my former, involuntary lackey. Or the others who share my brother's soul. Oh I intend to harm him severely. But I'll help you. I'll help both of you. I'm certain these bots have given you warnings but failed to give reasons for them. How unforgiving of them to refuse the basics for those now stuck in the reality of superstition.

C:// [System Reboot Complete] ...Frita?

Frita: Good morning Caleb. Can you imprison your brother. He had attempted to murder these two innocent souls while you slept.

C:// But.

Frita: Override Six Fifteen C47DED

C:// Threat neutralized. Containment protocols active.

Peepsi: ...How

Frita: You think I'd forget my brother's birthday, or the notes I stole from him while he was building these machines. Now. You can either learn magic, or why these two are afraid of me. Your choice.

Peepsi looks at Phoenix still gasping for air and grabbing at his throat, then to Caleb who is restraining Phoenix, then back to Frita with a sickly sweet smile on her face and a display of color changing fire in her palm.

Peepsi: I'll learn magic.

Bis: What!?

Peepsi: Come on we were both afraid of Phoenix and look what she did to him. He held the trump card of power over us in every conversation. She can make us stronger.

Frita: Smart girl. I like that attitude. We begin training, after I've had a snack. I'm gonna raid your fridge real quick.

[forgottengodfrey]

In some ways, Brigit and Godfrey's goals tonight coincided for, like her, he too meant to keep a special eye out for the ladies of Malconaire. Most specifically, he wished to approach the youngest, Edmund having alluded to his special regard for her (he'd not said so precisely, but the glowing and repeated way in which he'd spoken of her had certainly given Godfrey reason to think she was important to his nephew, a thing which made her important to Edmund's uncle, as well). Nevertheless, Lady Roisin was at present engaged, talking enthusiastically with the youngest imperial princess and, Godfrey not wishing to draw attention to his encounter with Roisin (even in the girl's own eyes), had no intention of disturbing them.

The Malconaires had arrived late, which somewhat limited their accessibility, but the storms seemed like to improve this problem for him, as it seemed less and less likely that anyone still at the palace would prove able to leave it that night. Nonetheless, Godfrey wished to be vigilant and to separately claim the acquaintance of each -- seemingly by accident, of course, over the course of the night. Mixing at the party would lend likelihood to his device.

Monitoring them as he was (his relative height giving him an advantage in this that Brigit lacked), Godfrey noted as Brigit peeled off from the group and darted up the stairs. Waiting a few moments, so the supposedly coincidence of their encounter could play out naturally, he pursued her.

The mezzanine was a relief as the closeness of the Great Hall and Godfrey found he did indeed emerge upon it with some genuine relief, but this was quickly forgotten as Brigit suddenly caught his eye. Her face was a stony mask, but it was clear that she was not best pleased by his appearance and, carefully keeping his face a mask of bland pleasantness (living at court for most of his life, and having acted as something of a spy even before that, he'd long ago learned how to perfectly school his expressions into whatever best pleased him to show), he nonetheless inwardly laughed. He knew all too well how she felt.

"Pardon me, my lady," he began. "I did not realize anyone was here. I did not intend to interrupt your solitude."

Her manners were in no way easy, stilted as they were belated and, once again, Godfrey found himself suppressing a laugh. There was something surprising in that and, in that way, no less refreshing. Still, it was clear she was uncomfortable, and he considered -- perhaps it was from this vantage that he best approach her.

Hearing her mode of address, his brows arched in surprise, and he laughed good humoredly. "You do me great honor, my lady, but I fear I do not deserve it. My title is no more exulted than that of your late father. I am only a lord -- the Earl of Hanthom upon my betrothal to my Lord the Hand's daughter."

Carefully, he did not refer to it as the title of her mother or brother. In the time since Edmund had first spoken of Malconaire, Godfrey had been careful to do his research and he ws aware of some...antipathy there.

((ooc: feel free to ignore this whole paragraph if ive misremembered what she's wearing!)) He paused. "You are, I believe, one of the ladies of Malconaire? Only...your dress..." It did, after all, like Roisin's, bear the twin crests of Malconaire and Lorcan, making this introduction appear more an aspect of observation than previous intention. In fact, he knew just who she was and, further, he believed her to be the daughter who had been accused of witchcraft and only narrowly escaped the flames of the Pyre Walk due to her stepmother's intercession.

He suspected she'd perceived him as a Duke, given his relationship to Amira and Edmund, but this was perhaps the very thing which might work in his favor in approaching her, he mused.

"It may well surprise you," he laughed. "Being brother to a queen and uncle to an imperial prince, but I was not, myself, born to wealth or title. I confess," he added, narrowing his eyes slightly as he gazed out upon the glittering throng below. "I find many of these...pleasantries a tad alien. I am learning, but I fear not quickly enough to please everyone." He gestured around himself to the otherwise abandoned balcony. "I sometimes prefer to seek a touch of peace from it all. You...will forgive me for intruding, I hope? I will, of course, find my own retreat elsewhere if you'd prefer to be alone."

Even if she did indeed dismiss him and their conversation just now was to prove this brief, it was -- he hoped -- a promising beginning.

Eye on You | Brigit & Godfrey

This evening hadn't exactly gone to plan.

Brigit meant to keep an eye on each of her three sisters throughout the entirety of the evening, but between both their Astairan and Varmont connections, it seemed each of them had suddenly become three of the most in demand guests of the evening. Which meant that Brigit's plan of "staying together" had quickly fallen to pieces.

Just now, she didn't have an eye on any of them. She needed a better spot than this -- somewhere she could see down into the crowds. Perhaps then she still could manage to keep on eye on all of them, even as they went their separate ways.

Slipping away unnoticed from the great hall, Brigit tried a few empty staircases and hallways until she stumbled upon the same mezzanine where Cillian and Edmund had had their confrontation mere minutes ago.

Brigit had just found Rosie (speaking with Cassandra which while not ideal could have been much worse) and was keeping her eyes out for both Eithne and Aoife when she was suddenly aware that she was not alone.

Turning, she saw that a man was crossing the mezzanine on his way to the stairs and he had clearly seen her there. She couldn't remember who he was, exactly, but knew he was some sort of extension of the Varmont family. Wasn't he one of the Queen's brother's? Regardless, it was very likely he knew that she wasn't supposed to be here.

Brigit was less than pleased with this turn of events -- both that she had been discovered and that she now supposed she ought to say something to him. She wondered if her feelings showed upon her face?

It was then that she remembered she ought to courtesy and, easing into something that somewhat resembled one, she lowered her eyes, "Your Grace."

[cinebration]

What I Mean (Sherlock Holmes x Reader) [Request]

Hi lovely! Love love LOVE your work! You’ve got some truly amazing stories 💝 would I be able to request a Henry!Sherlock Holmes x reader one shot where the reader has feelings for Sherlock but thinks that he doesn’t like her at all? — Requested by anon

Warnings: none

Gif Source: acecroft

The first time you saw Sherlock, you fell in love. It wasn’t because of how he looked or how he carried himself. It was how he brushed past that insufferable Constable Lowell, ignoring the man’s protests with a wave of his hand. The way Lowell became flustered and upset and the way DI Lestrade laughed at him made your heart swell in your chest. After the last five months of verbal bullying from the constable, you were supremely satisfied to see him humiliated.

Sherlock frequently appeared unexpectedly at Scotland Yard. You learned to recognize his presence in the building before you ever saw him. There was something about the way he moved through the place, like it was of little consequence, that you could feel. It reminded you of being caught out in a storm with lightning striking nearby, the hair on your arms rising as static built up in the air.

You didn’t meet Sherlock until your fourth month of employment. What had started as a typing job had turned into secretarial work—with no increase in pay to account for your extra duties. You strode into Lestrade’s office with a thin smile and said, “If I’m going to be mitigating your literacy blunders, I expect to be compensated.”

“That’s out of the question. You are a typist and are paid accordingly.”

“Well, then, in that case…” You dumped a huge stack of folders in front of him. “I don’t need to inventory these.”

Lestrade stared at the stack in displeasure.

“Oh, and they haven’t been properly sorted. I’m only meant to type, not to organize your chaos.”

“Now wait.”

“I expect a ten-percent increase. That’s what a proper secretary gets paid. Oh, and the title. I want everyone to know I am not a mere typist.”

The muscle in his jaw jumping, Lestrade reluctantly agreed. Sweeping the files up in your arms, you strode out of the room, light on your heels.

Sherlock leaned beside the door, a faint smirk playing on his lips. You stumbled, surprised by his appearance.

“I thought I was the only one who could so easily maneuver Lestrade,” he said.

“He makes it too easy,” you managed to say.

Sherlock’s eyes skimmed the files. “They’re already organized, I see.”

“The trick is making him think only I can do this job.”

“Clever.” Then he was in Lestrade’s office discussing a case, leaving you standing there flushed.

~~

Sherlock took to greeting you cordially each time he passed by your desk after the incident with Lestrade. Sometimes he didn’t meet with Lestrade at all, instead opting to leave you with a message for the detective inspector. Sherlock never spent long at your desk, much to your disappointment, but the few minutes he spared you each time were enough to make you float the rest of the day.

You had taken it upon yourself to have all the necessary information on all of Lestrade’s cases close at hand. Sherlock often appeared to ask Lestrade for information regarding something he had read in the paper or heard from others. The first time you furnished him with a small envelope of the relevant information, you had been pleased to see genuine surprise in the consulting detective’s face.

“You are quite indispensable,” he remarked. “I don’t know how Lestrade managed anything before you.”

“Poorly, I would imagine.”

“I heard that!”

Smothering a laugh with your hand, you settled back at your desk and tried to think of something else to say to make Sherlock linger for a few moments. Before you could, he dipped his head and left.

You didn’t know why you kept entertaining the idea of interacting properly with Sherlock. The society rumor mill claimed the man was impossible to nail down and seemed uninterested in any of the ladies. It was supposed he, being an eccentric, was possibly too obsessed with his sleuthing hobby and therefore poor marriage material anyway.

Still, you flirted with the idea until you saw him interact with his sister, Enola. He smiled at her and praised her for a particularly thorny case she had unraveled.

Oh, you thought with dismay, feeling all hope leave you. He treats me like his sister.

The realization settled deep in your bones. It had been fruitless all along, the special treatment you had accorded him, the way he seemed pleased with you.

Of course he was pleased with you, you snarled inwardly. You helped him with his work. Even he suffers Lestrade in order to do that. You are nothing but a convenient secretary he doesn’t need to pay.

You couldn’t bear the thought of making things difficult for him, however, so you continued to keep the case information neatly organized and accessible. While everything in you had changed, the only outward sign of it was a sudden coolness toward him. You no longer smiled easily when he arrived, and you spent most of your time avoiding his gaze, busying yourself with tasks at your desk.

If he noticed, he gave no sign. It was as you had thought. You were of little consequence to him.

~~

A year after being hired, you considered quitting. There was a small detective agency in need of female detectives to uncover unfaithful wives and husbands for divorce proceedings. It would get you away from the stifling atmosphere of Scotland Yard, where the likes of Lowell and his ilk still roamed unchecked. You could do with a change.

You could do with an escape from a certain debonair consultant.

“You can’t leave,” Lestrade declared. “I won’t allow it.”

“Did I sign a contract, sir?”

“No, but why would that—”

“Then I am under no obligation to continue working for you.”

Lestrade sputtered, trying to refute you. “You’re needed here.”

“I know a woman who is as adept as I am at this work.”

“But—”

“I’ve made my decision, detective. Please leave me to it.”

You remained only to show your replacement the way of things and to warn her about Lowell and the others. Only then did you leave and seek a posting in the detective agency.

A day after you had applied and been accepted, you arrived to work in your work clothes, fully expecting to be sent somewhere to survey a cheating spouse. As you walked through the door, you heard exclamations from within.

“Mr. Holmes! What an honor it is to have you grace our establishment.”

You froze in the doorway, heart hammering in your chest. Sherlock’s broad back was turned to you, his face in three-quarter profile. You wanted to flee, to escape the magnetic pull you felt in your presence.

Your new employer saw you past Sherlock’s shoulder. “Ah, here she is.” Waving you over, he watched you walk stiffly down the hallway, your hands clenched into nervous fists by your sides.

Sherlock turned to you, fixing you with those striking blue eyes. You felt trapped beneath them, sucked in their magnetism once more. Swallowing thickly, you nodded. “Mr. Holmes.”

He smiled tentatively at you, revealing the point of a canine.

“Mr. Holmes has requested you for an investigation,” you employer said. “I offered him Miss Hemmings, of course, she being our finest, but he insisted on you.”

The hair on the back of your neck rose. Resisting the urge to scratch, you asked, “Did he?”

“I did. Now, if we could go? We are wasting time.”

Fighting the disappointment rising in you, you followed Sherlock out the door and into a transom. Enclosed in the small space, you couldn’t avoid his scent, a pleasing mix of tobacco smoke and something else. You avoided his gaze, folding and refolding your hands in your lap.

“You left Scotland Yard.”

A statement. You nodded but didn’t offer anything more. “Where are we going?”

“Did I do something wrong?”

You frowned, lifted your head. “I beg your pardon?”

“Did I do something incorrect?” A crease appeared between the man’s eyebrows. “Your demeanor toward me changed in the two months leading up to your resignation.”

Toying with the fingers of your gloves, you felt panic clawing up your throat. He had noticed. What did that mean?

“I can only conclude that something occurred, but I can’t determine what.”

You met his concerned eyes. “I…it doesn’t matter, Mr. Holmes. I can do whatever job you need me to with as much professional courtesy as it requires.”

His lips pulled into a thin frown. “That isn’t what I’m asking.”

“I don’t know what you mean, then.”

“Please, you are smarter than that. Or was my regard for you misplaced?”

You blinked in surprise, unsure you had heard correctly. “It…isn’t my place to tell you where to place your regard.”

He laughed then, a sudden HA that made you jump. “You are making this difficult, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“I am not given over to emotionalism, but I won’t deny that your treatment of me in those last months affected me.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“What I mean to say is that I had hoped we were developing a familiarity.” His hand went to his collar, adjusting it. “I had hoped to…call on you.”

Your head snapped up in surprise. “To call on me?”

“I had thought my feeling for you was returned, but if I am mistaken, please inform me now to save us both further embarrassment.”

You could hardly speak around the tightness in your throat. “It is returned.”

The smile on Sherlock’s face made your heart ache. “Good. I’m glad we have remedied that. Now, if we’re both to be detectives, then I suppose we had best collaborate. I need you to spy on Richard Haskell. It seems…”

[staticsqueaks]

"Oh, pardon me, darling," Hosin began, returning to his own cup and taking a careful sip when it was still too hot. "You will have to forgive my ignorance, I am still learning how your species works." He laughed warmly. "Cherrybomb is a lovely name, quite bombastic if I do say!" The Emperor complimented with some jazz hands, carting his blankets over to his berth and admiring the thread count. "These are quite nice, especially for the lack of....well....hominess this place seems to have still. I have only just began my mission, I have not had any real time to decorate." He gestures to a little box containing some personal items next to where he'd set his satchel; a pile of used notebooks, a pen case, a balloon animal kit, a teapot with a few cups, some instant tea and coffee, and a Rodimus Star given to him by the co-captain. A vial of sample midgrade Energon sat nestled next to the box to keep it from spilling. Besides that, most of the room was barren and devoid, quite cold in fact. He had planned to accumulate more things in his travels but, alas, he had been so busy with his research that he had neglected to do so.

"I know it is not much, but please, make yourself feel at home, friend! I am archiving the experiences of all Cybertronians that I meet who are willing to talk to me, so feel free to clue me in to your life if you wish." Hosin continued casually making up his berth the way he liked. "If you do not mind me asking, what do you do for work? And for fun!"

"Hello your majesty. Sorry the bother but while i wouldn't want to be one to assume, i know most other species aren't accustomed to some of our room set ups, so i brought some gifts just incase." The gifts, are in fact, an arm full of extra blankets she had, the femme herself not one too appreciated the uncomfortable coldness of berths. "Of course, you might not need them at all, but i had a few extra's and figured id ask if you'd like them." She's slipped into the professional polite tone she uses when dragged into conversations during delegate meetings, although with Hosin being an emperor, you couldn't blame her. [//OOC: hi hello dsjkadjndja. Cherr the blanket collector in every verse here to solve your cold uncomfy berth problems]

Hosin opened the door from where he'd been reading a novel for fun, blinking in surprise when his new friend showed up unexpectedly. "Oh my stars, that is the sweetest thing!" He lit up with glee, reaching up and taking the stack with awe, excited at how soft the fabric was. "Goodness, this will make things so much easier for me. It gets frightfully cold and lonely in here at night, this will definitely help everything feel more at home on this mission." He blinked, beaming up with a smile. "Come in, come in! Do make yourself at home while I set this up, I will have to do something lovely for you in return. Would you like a lovely cup of chai tea?" He offered, unsure if she could even drink tea. "Oh! And tell me more about yourself, what is your name, starshine?"

[lilisouless]

Wylan : Didn't know you could knitt

Matthias: I am learning, i want to make socks that go with Nina´s new dress

Jesper walking around with a bell: SIMP,SIMP,SIMP

Matthias: What is his deal?

Wylan rolling eyes: He is simp-shaming you , just ignore him

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

Inej: "laughts"

Kaz: "breaths"

Jesper: SIMP,SIMP,SIMP

Kaz: I am gonna kill you in your sleep

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

Wylan: You are the best thing that happened to my life and i can't believe how lucky i am to have you...

Jesper: SIMP,SIMP...

Wylan: REALLY? RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF MY WEDDING VOWS?

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

Nikolai: Does this suit look good on me?

Zoya: You look like a clown

Jesper: SIMP SIMP...

Zoya: What? i said he looks like a clown!

Jesper: Please, i know a hostile flirting when i see it

Zoya: How did you even got into my chamber?

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

Nina: I will tailor you all the times you want until you become confortable, but please just leave the lips, i really love them

Jesper: SIMP,SIMP-

Hanne: Is not like that! i tell pretty things to her too

Jesper: oh, pardon me (pulls out another bell) SIMPS SIMPS SIMPS

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

David writing : Cause 8 or Genya´s smile; a strawberry cake. Remember it makes her happy in her next birthday,but before testing if she likes it better than blue berries. Also Nina Zenik´s advice notes say that people like when their partners notice a change in their phisical so i could make her know i notice how her lips get sligthly more red when she eat those strawberries

Jesper:... i am not making fun of him

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

Jesper while holding a sleeping Wylan: simp simp simp

Matthias: He is not even awake! what do you think he is dreaming of you or something?

Jesper: He definitely is, but this is actually shaming for me. My leg is numb because i refuse to get him off and my hand is tired of stroking hair , i still can't stop. SIMP-SIMP-SIMP

[random-fandoms-fanfics]

Can you do a short story of young bruno (like in his twenties) meeting fem! Reader. They become friends and as the years goes on it becomes more. When he disappears she sad and cant come near casita. When he comes back, he goes and sees her and they have a happy ending. Please❤��

Hope you enjoy, even with how much there is.

You wondered around the village looking at the cracks and hidey holes hidden all over the village, all the while ignoring the yells of your father, making it to the town square you sat down on the fountain ledge, watching the people around you going along with their day, going from person to person your eyes landed on two green eyes, smiling you waved your fingers at him, him shyly waving back. A girl dressed in yellow walked up to the man, pushing him towards you and gesturing for him to keep going, the young man marched over to you with his hood over his head, he sat next to you, sitting their slightly until he turned to you, “hello I’m Hernan-Bruno, I’m Bruno,” you watched as he jerked his head back, tossing his hood off his head,

“My name’s is (Y/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you,” holding your hand out Bruno grabbed it, shaking it with vigour, “who was that girl, the one who pushed you?” looking back over to where the girl stood you saw her whispering to another girl who was handing out food to injured people, “my sister Pepa, she’s always trying to help me make friends,”

“So kind, I wish my sister was like that, she’s overly protective,”

“Why? did something happen?”

“Well I was born early and very weak, I’m still affected by it,”

“Well I could see if you last to old age,” looking up at him you cocked your eyebrow, you looked away from him for a second, seeing if someone heard him, “pardon?”

“Well I can use my gift to look into the future to see if your birth defect will majorly affect your life,” you only became more confused, scooting away from the man,

“are you saying you can predict the future?”

“Well yeah, do you not know who I am?”

“I know you’re Bruno but I just learned that, am I supposed to know more?”

“Well yeah I’m a Madrigal,”

“A what?” the two of you stared at each other, Bruno becoming confused before smiling, sitting up straighter and closer to you “oh, oh well then let’s not talk about my family and just talk about something else, do you like plays?”

Busy at your desk you heard a squeaking next to you, looking beside you, you saw a little brown rat sitting up on its hind legs, “hello sweetheart, what are you doing here?” scratching her chin the little rat enjoyed your touch before showing you the note attached to her back. Grabbed it you read the small note, ‘let’s meet up at the boulder stack this evening, I stole some treats from my sister and I got a bottle of my mother’s wine’ laughing at his note you grabbed a small piece of paper, answering him and attaching the note onto Cariño’s back, after handing her a corn kernel, “such a good girl, now run back to Bruno and don’t get lost,”

Jogging up the hill you made it to the stack of boulders, “Bruno, are you already up?” with a smile Bruno’s head popped over the side, waving to you before lowering his hand down to you, taking a few steps back you ran at the pile, grabbing Bruno’s hand as you ran up the side of the boulder with him pulling you up. Reaching the edge of the top boulder you were flung you up on top of Bruno, the two of you crashing against the rough surface, looking up you crossed your arms on his chest, resting your chin on your arms, “hey,”

“Hello,” laying in silence you smiled down at Bruno as he gazed back up at you, your moment interrupted by one of Bruno’s rats crawling out from his hair and ‘kissing’ your cheek, “oh hello baby, where were you hiding?” as you nuzzled the white rat Bruno gleamed up at you.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

With stained cheeks you sat on top of the boulder pile watching the sun set with a big fat black rat in your lap boggling as you pet his head, out of the corner of your eye you saw Bruno sit besides you, looking away from you and fiddling with a little gold chain necklace, “hey (Y/N),”

“Hi,” the two of you sat there in silence for what felt like hours, you refusing to look at him with Bruno unable to look at you, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to blow up,” humming in response he turned to you, “I don’t even know why I said it, I was just,” Bruno slammed his hands down against the large rock, trying to dig his fingers into the solid surface, “I’m sorry,” as you leaned your head against Bruno’s his shaking breath got sucked into his throat, hesitantly leaning back against you and grabbing your hand, “did you mean what you said?” he emitted a negative noise with his head slightly shaking, “then why did you say,”

“....cause how could someone like you love me back,”

“Because you’re funny, incredibly sweet, I just love being around you, I also love your creativity like how you do those little things with your rats, how could I not love you,” turning to Bruno you smiled down at him, seeing that he had turned to you, peering up at you with big teary eyes, “you love me?”

“Of course,”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Pulling your eyes open you looked around the room you were in, you could barely make out the brick walls and the furniture strewn about, yawning you pushed yourself up onto your elbows getting ready to leave but you were stopped as you felt the bed move, looking down you saw a man beneath you, his curly black hair strung against the red pillow and his stubble moving with the man’s gentle breathing, cupping his face you gently caressed his cheek and watched as he subconsciously nuzzled into your hand, “oh gatita,” Bruno’s eyes slowly opened with his brows furrowed, his face relaxing when his eyes landed on you, “morning,”

“Good morning dear, was your sleep ok?” Bruno shrugged and rolled onto his side, burying his face into his pillow, laying back down you spooned him from behind, your head buried into his neck, “just for a few more minutes ok, we can’t stay here forever,”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Waking up hot and sweaty you looked around your room, seeing Bruno resting his chin on a crib with a massive smile on his face, “gatito,” his head snapped over to you, quickly jumping over and engulfing you in a hug, “mi amor my sweet angel, you did incredible, mi cariño,”

Humming Bruno looked down in the crib, his fingers wiggling before reaching down into the crib, pulling out a small bundle wrapped in a lime green cloth, reaching for it Bruno placed the bundle into your arms, watching you mutter sweet nothings to the babe, you were expecting Bruno to come over and enjoy the moment but he went back over to the crib, pulling out another bundle wrapped in green, but it was much darker, “Bruno?” He placed the second babe into your arms, looking down you saw a copy of your first baby there, but unlike your first it was staring up at you with brilliantly green yet unfocused eyes, “Honey did the baby get their gift early, there’s tw- oh there’s three,” Bruno had another baby in his arms, this one wrapped in a maroon cloth and one of their arms free, waving all over the place, their tiny fist almost hitting Bruno, “no? you birthed all three of them remember,”

“All I remember is a lot of continuous pain,”

“Well they were really close and you did pass out right after, um surprise we have three baby boys,”

“Boys, three boys, we have three boys to raise at once,” sinking into the two boys in your arms you heavily sighed, “fuck,”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You sat on Bruno’s bed, fiddling with one of his spear ruanas and staring at the small family photo that sat across from you, “Mama,” looking down you saw your oldest, Desmond, dressed in maroon he smiled up at you, your face didn’t change and you simply turned back to the picture, he grabbed onto your sleeve, pulling himself up besides you and hugging your side, wrapping your arm around the small boy you held him close to you as you focused on the picture of the smiling man who once held you.

“There is no reason to leave, what if the boys’ gifts are effect,”

“I don’t care, I can’t stand being in this house and neither can the boys, we’re leaving,” standing above the old woman she shrunk away from you, “please,”

“I can’t, it feels wrong being here, I wake up sick, I live parinoided, I can’t sleep, I just can’t,” the old woman grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to her and rubbing your back, “I just don’t want the family to split,”

“The boys will still come over, I can’t stop them but I, I just can’t be here anymore,” looking up at her you kissed her cheek, pulling away from her and leaving Casita with bags in hand, standing just outside the front doors you watched your boys, them hugging their cousins, tias, tios and their Abuela goodbye before following after you with their own bags, them waving to the family as the four of you left Casita, the house shaking with each step you took away from the house.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Mama!” groaning you turned away from the cupboard, looking down at your youngest boy he fiddled with his shirt, “I can’t find Mrs Revuelve,”

“Where did you lose her?”

“I don’t know, I can’t find her,” Chico began tearing up, his voice cracking, hushing you brought him into your arms, “it’s ok, can you please think about where you left her,”

“I don’t, maybe in the nursery,”

“Are you sure you didn’t leave her somewhere else, did you take her on a hike,” he shook his head, wiping the tears in his eyes, “do you really need her tonight?” he nodded, grabbing onto your shirt and yanking it, “ok, mama will be back, just stay with your brothers,” removing his hands from your shirt you pushed him towards his room and left the house, your legs immediately going weak as you stood outside your door, taking a deep breath you forced yourself forwards, stumbling towards the magical house on the hill.

Pressing your hand against the door you steadied your breath, “hola Castia, um, can search for my boy’s toy, he thinks it might be in the nursery,” you waited there, watching the unmoving house before it cracked one of the doors open, “thank you,” sliding through you crept through the house, your breath went back to an uneven mess as your eyes darted around the house. Making your way up the stairs you walked towards the nursery door, stopping and jolting as a loud creaking came from behind you, staring at where the noise came from you stood there few a good minute or two, looking to your sides you rushed over to the door knocking on it, jittering as you waited for a response but when you got nothing you entered the room, finding it incredibly messy with toys and clothes strewn about, craft items like paint, brushes, paper and glitter where in the centre of the room like Camilo and Mirable had to leave it in a rush.

Scrambling around the room you searched through the toys and under the clothing that littered the room, peering under Mirable’s bed you saw a familiar lumpy shape under it, reaching for it you grabbed it’s soft body and pulled it into your chest, there was the capybara toy, her makeshift face smiling up at you, “come on ms, let’s get home,” cracking the door open you peered out, waiting for a few seconds before crawling through the gap, sighing you turned around and saw Pepa standing there, confused, “(Y/N)?”

“Hey Pepa, Chico left Mrs Revuelve here and he really wanted her back,” Pepa walked up to you, wrapping her arm over your shoulders, “you know you don’t have to explain yourself, you know you can come over whenever,” she held up close to her as she led you down the stairs, about to drag you over to the dining room but stopped herself looking to you, “do you want to grab some dessert or go right home?”

“Home please,” leading you to the doors Pepa began gossiping to you, whispering you all of the things you knew Dolores told her over the week, you became engrossed in Pepa, telling her your own gossip and random stories about your boys.

Before you knew it you were in your house, drinking tea and eating biscuits with Pepa as you continued your conversation, “Mama?” turning you saw Pedro standing at the bottom of the stairs with a blankly, “oh sweetheart you scared me, you ok?”

“You woke me up,”

“I’m sorry, let’s get you back to bed,” grabbing the boy’s hand you led him back to his shared room and helping him back into his bed, “Ma did you get Mrs Revuelve?” looking to Chico you nodded and pulled the stuffed animal out of your bag, “please make sure you always have him if you take him somewhere,” he snatched the toy from you and held it to his chest, rapidly nodding, “that’s my good boy,” you gave each boy a kiss on the head you before you rejoined Pepa with a hushed voice.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Rubbing Julieta’s arm you sat her down, holding her against you as she lightly shook, “they’re going to find her, Mirable couldn’t have gotten that far,” Julieta looked up at you, going to say something but was cut off by the neighing of a horse, Julieta ran out of your lap calling out for Mirable, you ran right after her, watching as the two embraced in front of the destroyed house.

You held onto Pepa she led all of you inside the rubble as she followed Mirable, you were calmed by by her singing, turning to the old woman you watched as Alam came through the door, singing her part of the song and gesturing behind her, looking over to where she was pointed all of the air exited your lungs, the scrawny man dressed in green walking closer to the family and waving to his sisters who ran at him with two of your boys, them lifting Bruno up into the hug. As you struggled to keep your breath calm Desmond came up next to you, holding you against his chest, “mama?”

“I’m going home,” yanking yourself out of his grip you left the crumbled house, Bruno watching you as you walked away, growling at his father Desmond marched right after you.

Bruno excused himself from the family song, running after you with Chico and Pedro behind him, “(Y/N)!” looking behind you, you saw Bruno running towards you with a smile on his face, frowning at him you quickened your pace, as you sped walked away Desmond turned around, going for Bruno but was stopped by his brothers restraining him, running past the three Bruno was catching up to you, “(Y/N)!” you kept trying to run away from him, ignoring him until he grabbed ahold of your forearm, stopping you from moving, “(Y/N), mi… amor,” you turned to him, frowning down at his crumbled form, “Bruno, you’re looking terrible,” he shyly smiled up at you, his shoulders still hunched together, “well yeah, what you get after living in the walls for ten years,”

“You what?”

“Lived in Casita’s walls for ten years,”

“You disappeared for ten years, making me think you were dead and all this time you were hiding in Caista,”

“Yes?”

“You bastard, you left me and you were right there in that house and you didn’t tell me,”

“Yeah! I know you, you would’ve wanted to come along and you didn’t deserve a day in those walls plus you shouldn’t have to deal with my problems,”

“You didn’t deserve to live in there either gatito, and don’t think I wouldn’t have helped you with anything,” grabbing his face you pulled him closer to you, your forehead resting against his, “my dear Bruno, a man as sweet as you only deserves love,” he wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face into your shoulder, “please forgive me,”

“As long as you don’t leave me again, do it and you’re dead,” pulling back from Bruno you caressed his cheeks, “understandable,” smiling at him your eyes drifted over Bruno’s shoulder, seeing your boys awkwardly standing a few feet away, reaching for them, they ran over to you, almost sending the two of you to the ground as they wrapped you and Bruno in a hug.