#and it tracks i think with what we've observed

[cementcornfield]

Joe comes to work in a suit and a tie, Jake comes to work in a suit with no tie.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Dating in a Dream - Jamil Viper

SUMMARY: What would his dream be like, exactly the same as in the original story, but with the small detail that he is dreaming that you two are dating?

CHARACTERS: Jamil Viper x Reader 🐍🦐

TAGS: Fluff; a little angst; GN Reader; In a Relationship (kinda); Kiss

WARNING: Spoilers from Book 7 and Jamil’s dream (Eng Server)

WORD COUNT: 6.220 words

COMMENTS: This was written as a companion piece to the original dream story, so the parts that are the same as the game are just summarized.

I would also like to say: I kept the endings "sama" and "bocchan" because I thought they would make more sense, and since "sama", from what I researched, is gender neutral it could be used with Yuu. I don't know if Jamil's shawl has a specific name. And I'm not good with color names.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy 🐍

Dating in a Dream: Idia / Epel / Rook / Vil / Kalim / (Jamil) / Floyd / Jade / Azul / Jack / Ruggie / ...

“Aether signal tracking successful.” Ortho announces. “We have arrived at the designated coordinates.”

Kalim seemed to have enjoyed the dream-to-dream journey, and even compared it to his carpet rides. But Vil didn't look or feel very well. It seemed like some kind of motion sickness specific to those dream travels. Everyone agrees that Vil should rest. Silver and Ortho stayed with him in the shade, while you, Grim, Sebek, Kalim and Idia, or rather his tablet, went for a walk to analyze the world of that dream a little more.

After walking around for a while, Sebek comments that it is as hot as in Kalim's dream. Which is explained by the fact that both dreams take place in Scalding Sands. Kalim recognizes the Camel Bazaar and suggests that you all should buy Vil some coconut juice, it's cold and refreshing and might help him feel better. Grim agrees, but Idia and Sebek fear that this could cause problems because they don't have the local currency. However, Kalim assures that everything will be fine.

Kalim orders, to everyone's surprise (or almost everyone's), TEN coconut juices. The vendor gives him a heap of whole coconuts with an opening at the top and a straw each. Kalim encourages you all to try a sip and you do so. It really felt good in that heat. Kalim prepares to leave with the coconuts when the vendor calls his attention.

“Excuse me, sir! You need to pay.”

“Pay? Sorry, I don't have any cash on me.” Kalim responds too naturally and tells the vendor that he can just bill his house like usual.

But the vendor didn't know what Kalim was talking about. When Kalim told him his name the vendor recognized the name, however...

“Al-Asim, huh? If that's true, that's even less reason to put anything on a tab. You think you can dine and dash at MY stall? You've got some nerve, kiddo!”

“This is going south fast...” You say. “There's no returning the juice now that we've drunk it...” You approach Kalim to talk to him about that situation and that's when the vendor finally sees you well.

“OH! (Y/N)-sama!” The vendor practically stutters your name and completely changes his attitude. “I-I didn't see you were in this group. Are they your friends? I am so deeply sorry for my bad manners. If you don't have money with you either, I can just bill the Viper's house if you'd like.”

“The Viper's house?” Kalim wonders. “Why Jamil's house?”

“Hey! (Y/N)!” Grim whispers loudly at your feet. “Just say yes and get us out of this!”

You accept the vendor's offer and he lets you go with all those coconuts and a smile on his face. But a slightly scared smile. Returning to Vil, Silver and Ortho, you all discuss what happened.

“So, (Y/N) seems to have more power here than Kalim.” Ortho observes. “And apparently they are also somehow connected to Jamil Viper's house.”

“But how?” Sebek wonders. “And why?”

“Well, by the way the vendor reacted when he saw (Y/N)...” Idia says. “I have an idea... but let's analyze this place better first.”

Vil and Ortho exchange glances with each other, probably thinking the same thing as Idia.

“We can start by checking my place.” Kalim suggests. “Jamil's place is on our grounds.”

Arriving at the place where Kalim's house would be, it was deserted... Literally.

“Wh... This can't be right... MY HOUSE IS GONE! The main building, the annexes, Jamil's home, they're all gone! Where'd everybody go?!”

A local resident who was passing by asked if you were tourists and told you that the Asim Palace had a change in ownership years back. The new owner had it relocated to high ground on the outskirts of town. He didn't know who the new owners were, but he know that the Asims had to give up their house after their business failed.

You go look for the palace.

You all go to where the palace was now and Kalim is shocked to discover that it was true that his house really did get relocated to higher ground. And not only that, but it looked like the exterior's been repainted too. The roofs have gone from teal to red, and the walls from white to black.

“Hey!” A Guard suddenly approaches. “What are you kids doing here? This is a private－ ah! (Y/N)-sama! It's you, and Kalim. My apologies, I hadn't recognized you from afar. Jamil-bocchan has been looking for you to go to school together.”

“Jamil?” Kalim steps forward. “Jamil is here?!”

“What kind of question is that? This is where Jamil-bocchan lives... Viper Palace!”

You discover that the one who bought up Kalim's home was Jamil's father, the head of the Viper family. He bought that manor from the Asims when they were in sore need of money, and know the Vipers were the richest family in Silk City.

After the guard's explanation, you hear music coming from somewhere and an elephant emerging through the front gates at the head of a whole parade. You see that the guy riding the elephant was none other than Jamil, wearing a uniform just like the one the fake Jamil wore in Kalim's dream, but this one was red and black instead of turquoise and white.You also see the dreamer's silver bird around his head.

“Make way! Coming through!” Another guard announced. “Make way for Jamil-sama!”

You all step aside.

“Why are YOU making way, Kalim?” The guard who was with you questioned him. “Take this parasol and join the procession!”

Since you were distracted looking at that guard and Kalim, you got startled when you suddenly felt something grabbing you by the waist and lifting you into the air. When that thing finally lets go of you, you are in Jamil's arms and you realize that that thing was the elephant's trunk.

“Where were you, my desert bloom? You are quite late.” Jamil asks you and then looks at your clothes. “Have you been shopping? Hm... no offense, but I've seen you in better clothes.” He smirks.

Jamil lands you on the elephant's back, but you can't stand on your own and cling to Jamil. He laughs.

“You haven't gotten used to it yet, have you? But let me just change those clothes real quick. You can't go to school without a uniform.” He uses his magic pen to turn your NRC uniform into a uniform similar to the black and red clothes with gold jewelry he was wearing. “Much better~” he says in a lower, slightly seductive tone. “Black already looks good on you, but red looks even better.” He grabs you firmly by the waist to hold you, before turning to the people in the procession behind you. “Get marching, and don't break formation!”

“Jamil looks like he's having a ton of fun!” You hear Kalim say right behind the elephant.

“You there, quiet down! Less talking, more walking!” Jamil orders him.

You look back and see two lines, in front of one of them is Sebek, followed by Vil and lastly Silver, in front of the other is Kalim, followed by Ortho and lastly Grim, who you imagine would be complaining.

“So...” You try to chat with Jamil. “How long is the path to school again?”

“Is it just me, or are you more spacey than usual?” He looks at you slightly suspicious. “Unless... Oh, you're asking because you're tired from shopping, aren't you? Well, Jahar Sahir College is on the other side of the city, but the path is straight so you'll see we'll get there in no time. Enjoy the parade.” His watchful gaze returns to the people behind the elephant. “You there － your parasol is drooping. Hold it properly!”

“Whoops, sorry! I'll fix that right away.” You hear Kalim apologize.

Jamil is very suspicious and attentive. If you take too many risks, he might realize that you are not one of the NPCs from his dream. And it’s not a good idea to take that risk more than 2.5 meters above the ground.

Suddenly, in the midst of the euphoria of the moment, Jamil pulls you to lie on his other arm, making you lose your balance and scaring you. Even if you shouted in fright, it was just another scream in the middle of the cheers. Jamil laughs before pulling you back to your feet and grabbing you to hold you steady. If you hug him or cling to him, he will like it even more.

“What was that?!” You ask, it really looked like you were going to fall off the elephant.

“Ha ha ha!” He laughs in a way you don't remember ever seeing. “I just felt like surprising you.” He smirks. “Or maybe it was a little punishment for disappearing on me and arriving so late to the parade.”

And as another surprise he kisses your lips quite lovingly, but only for a couple of seconds. When he breaks the kiss, he laughs at your surprised face.

“I know, I don't usually do this with so much attention on us. But no one will dare tell us anything.” his smile had a hint of menace.

“All right, we're here.” Jamil finally announces. “Parasols closed, elephants to the stables!”

Jamil leads your elephant to a special platform for you to get off, and he helps you, giving you his hand to support you. You look around and see a school just like the school in Kalim's dream, but once again red and black instead of teal and white. And the statue in the fountain was also different. It wasn't the Ruler of the Oasis's, but you recognized this one, it was a statue of the Sorcerer of the Sands, the same man from the Scarabia Dorm.

“We should go look for Kalim.” Jamil bends his arm to invite you to intertwine yours with his. You do so and he starts walking towards the fountain. “Kalim! Where are you?!” He shouts displeased.

“Oh, I'm right here!” Kalim waves with a big smile. “Hello!”

“Don't give me that!” Jamil retorts. “How can you loaf around without looking after your boss...? Wait. What's with that outfit? Did you botch your color-changing magic again?”

It was as if all that joy of his had disappeared as soon as he approached Kalim. It was a little sad to see, both from Kalim and Jamil's side.

“Huh? I didn't botch this.” Kalim explains. “It's supposed to look like the Ruler of the Oasis. Cool, right?”

“The Jahar Sahir College uniform uses traditional red and black colors like what the illustrious Sorcerer of the Sands wore. What were you thinking, bleaching them to your whims? The nerve.” Jamil takes his magic pen and changes the colors of Kalim's clothes to the same as his.

“Ooh, the colors changed! These are pretty nice too, actually. Thanks, Jamil!”

“I think you mean to say, 'Thank you very much, Jamil-sama, sir.’” Jamil corrects with an offended expression. “Honestly... You'll never let go of that pampered rich boy demeanor, will you? Look. The Asim family owes the Viper family more money than you could pay off with a lifetime's worth of work. So you should try to make yourself at least a LITTLE useful to me.”

“Jamil!” You say, as if asking him to moderate his words.

“I know, you don't like it when I'm like this to Kalim, but he needs to know his place.” He looks at you strangely, almost sulking. “You always had a soft spot for him that I never understood.” he addresses the group again. “By the way, who are you people? Jahar Sahir College isn't open for the general public to just waltz in.”

Silver explains that they are from Night Raven College and Vil says that the reason they came to Scalding Sands was a Film Research Club project, but that they had heard so much about Jahar Sahir College that they had to visit it. He said they were looking for the reception and it was shortly after that Kalim spotted them and approached them. Jamil seems suspicious at first, but after thinking about it for a while he supposes there is nothing strange about it.

“Considering their shabby attire and vapid expressions, I'm sure they're simply students.” Jamil murmurs.

“Hey, I heard that!” Grim informs.

“Oh dear, I beg your pardon.” Jamil says smugly. “I let my inner voice slip out there...”

“Wait a minute...” Grim notices the way Jamil talks to him. “You don't recognize me?”

“Recognize you?” Jamil repeats, confused. “My apologies, but I don't remember ever meeting a little beast like you.”

“WHAT?! You know (Y/N) but you don't know me?!”

“What does one thing have to do with the other?” Jamil turns to you. “Do you know this strange cat?”

As Grim complains that he's not a cat, you think about what to say. But what should you say? That you don't know him? That you met him once? But when? And how? The more time you let pass, the more suspicious Jamil would become.

“We crossed paths with (Y/N) before the parade.” Vil saves you. “I think Grim developed a special liking for them after meeting them.”

You see Grim look surprised at that excuse and then lower his ears a little sad, reluctantly accepting his new role in Jamil's dream.

“I can see why.” Jamil smirks. “I've never met anyone who wasn't enchanted by (Y/N). Which is ironic coming from someone who is not a mage. Allegedly.” He looks at you with that mischievous smile and raised eyebrow.

“Forgive my indiscretion if so.” Ortho says. “But would I be correct in concluding that you two are a couple?”

“Yes, you would.” Jamil answers casually.

“However, you said that they are not mages, but they are students of Jahar Sahir College?”

“An exception was made due to personal circumstances.” Jamil said defensively. “Nothing you need to... worry about.” He finished in a slightly threatening tone despite the smile. “Returning to the subject of your visit. As the student council president, I would be a far more fitting person to show you around campus than Kalim.”

“Oh, truly?” Vil smiles. “How fortunate for us to receive hospitality straight from the student council president himself.”

“I wouldn't want Kalim giving them the impression that our students are subpar.” He mutters.

Jamil says that, personally, he is interested in hearing about Night Raven College. He knows about the Dark Mirror and says that Scalding Sands also has long been a flourishing producer of magical artifacts.

“There's the Magic Flying Carpet, the Great Serpent Staff, the Hourglass of Clairvoyance...” He looks at you for a split second with a smile on the corner of his mouth, when talking about the hourglass. “And the Magic Lamp.”

Jamil says that the Sorcerer of the Sands himself employed such artifacts in his great deeds, and that to this day many people in Scalding Sands, including students from Jahar Sahir College and Jamil himself, are interested in them. He also brags about his family's treasure being bursting with artifacts collected from all over the world.

“I'd love to hear more about the ones housed at your school.”

“Ooh, wow! You liked (Y/N)? I had no idea!” Kalim says. “I'm so happy for you two. And you're the student council president? That's great, Jamil!”

“Why are you acting like this is the first you've heard of it? Not only do you GO to this school, but you and (Y/N) are friends. Now stop standing around and prepare a proper reception for our guests”

“Whoops! Right, I'm supposed to work for Jamil. Okay, a proper reception means a party, right? I got this!”

Kalim starts by asking someone to prepare a party, until Jamil reminds him that this was HIS job. Then Kalim says that a party needs drinks, but instead of going to the kitchen to get some, he uses his signature spell, Oasis Maker, to make it rain.

“You fool!” Jamil says to Kalim as he uses his own shawl to cover you and try to keep you from getting too wet. “Who goes around spraying water without any warning?!”

“We'll need food, too.” Kalim continues, oblivious to what Jamil was saying. “I'll go grab some food from the kitchen! Be right back!” The rain dissipates as he runs away towards the interior of the main building.

“What's gotten into him?” Jamil mutters again. “He's never been the sharpest tool in the shed, but he's usually not THIS bad.”

“Maybe he's just too excited that we have guests from so far away?” You suggest.

“Trying to alleviate his incompetence as always.” he mutters to you, slightly disapprovingly, before turning back to the others. “Ahem... I'm sorry you all had to see that.”

“Please, don't worry about it at all.” Silves tells him.

“Here you are, Jamil - uh, I mean, Jamil-sama!” Kalim comes back. “I brought a bunch of your favorite foods. Look! I've got a whole pot of curry, some dates... Oh, and lots of silky melons! Where should I put them?”

“I had a bad feeling, but seriously... Who brings the food out before they even set out rugs and tables?! This is beyond bad. You're utterly useless!”

“Ah hah hah! Sorry about that! I've never done this sort of things before.” Kalim apologizes, good-humored as always. “Jamil-sama, could you hold the pot of curry? (Y/N), Grim, you hold the dates and melons.”

“Mrah! Don't plop a whole pile of melons on my head!” Grim appeals unsuccessfully. “Geez, this is heavy!”

“Okay, I'll get some rugs next!” Kalim announces excitedly and runs away again.

“Hey, wait! What kind of staff makes their bosses and guests do the work?!”

“I thought you hated dates.” You say, looking at the large basket full of them that Kalim passed into your hands.

“And I do.” Jamil confirms. “At least someone remembers. Ahem... I'm so sorry about this.” he apologizes to Grim too. “I'll keep the dishes levitated with magic. You don't have to hold them.”

“Ooh, it's all floatin' now.” Grim says relieved. “That's much better!”

“Ugh, that dimwit gets on my last nerve. Mom and Dad are far too lenient. And so are you.” Jamil tells you.

“I see you don't like that about me.” You concluded as the others spoke amongst themselves.

“It's not that I don't like that side of you and you know it. But there are people who don't deserve it.”

“Well, I think Kalim deserves it.” You defend him.

“How stubborn.” Jamil sighs. “But I'd be lying if I said I disliked it. Depending on the situation, it's quite attractive.” he smirks.

You didn't know, but while the two of you were talking about Kalim, the others were also talking among themselves about Jamil and you.

Grim wondered if Malleus's spell wasn't supposed to be giving people happy dreams, but Jamil was in a snit, he didn't seem all that happy to him. The Shroud brothers concluded that this dream followed the same pattern as Vil's dream. Kalim was a source of stress for him, just like Neige was to Vil. But Kalim exerts an outsized influence over Jamil's personality and capabilities in reality. Removing a figure that influential would make the dream more prone to major paradoxes. Unlike Grim, and maybe that's why Jamil didn't remember him.

“Nonetheless...” Ortho sees Jamil smiling at you, even after that silly little argument. “He seems pretty happy with (Y/N).”

“True, he seems more relaxed with them.” Silver agrees.

“We must not deviate from the main point!” Sebek reminds them. “We need to make Jamil realize this is a dream as quickly as possible!”

“Right.” Silver agrees. “Between this place and the bazaar, Jamil's definitely got a strong imagination. I don't think a simple shock would do the job. How do we approach this...?”

Kalim returns, saying he went to Zahab Market and got some nice pieces from the rug merchant. Vil comments that those "nice pieces" look like they'd cost an arm and a leg. Jamil finally seems satisfied with Kalim's work, taking the opportunity to boast again about his family being the richest and most influential in the city.

“Anyway, check this out! Doesn't this carpet take you back?” Kalim shows him a carpet almost identical to the flying carpet of his that you knew, but instead of red, this one was purple.

“Take me back? Why would it?”

It was a regular, unenchanted replica of the flying carpet. Kalim talks about a time when the two of them and his father went to a rug merchant, Kalim thought it was a real flying carpet, spread it out on the ground and walked right onto it. That got him a scolding.

“How could I forget? The look on that merchant's face when you stepped on a vintage silk carpet with your muddy shoes－HRK!” The dream world begins to distort. “Wait... I would never take someone as overeager as Kalim to a high-end store. Rgh... What's going on?! I suddenly feel dizzy...”

Seeing Jamil wavering, the others encourage Kalim to keep talking. Kalim remembers a time when they snuck out of the manor to visit the Camel Bazaar and drank coconut juice together, but Jamil says that Kalim was the one sneak out on his own and Jamil had to scramble after him. Then he remembers a time, just before they enrolled in Night Raven College, when Jamil used his signature spell to make the bad guys fight each other to get him and Kalim out of trouble. But this time Jamil insisted that he didn't know what he was talking about.

Kalim says that he was always the best and most dependable friend he could have, and that he trusted everything would work out just fine as long as he left it in Jamil's hands. But he was the only one of them who felt that way and now he know that Jamil hated it all along.

“That's why you used (Y/N), Grim, and the students in Scarabia to try and get me kicked out and sent home, right? Winter break sure threw me for a loop. I was super crushed when you betrayed me and told me you hated me.”

“Used (Y/N)?! How dare you... I would never... I... I did... What I did... That Winter break...? Betrayed? Augh! My... My head!”

The world distorts a little more.

Kalim says he doesn't know what Jamil is thinking, but he knows that the person he is right now isn't the person he really wanted do be. He wanted to be the best version of himself, but that isn't this.

“Remember who you truly are!” Kalim transforms his clothes into his Scarabia Housewarden uniform, which makes Jamil start to remember.

“What was that scene just now? It shouldn't be familiar to me, but... it is. The... The real me is...”

“JAMIL-SAMA!” You hear someone shout, and a second Kalim, wearing a Jahar Sahir College uniform, appears running.

“There are two Kalims!” Silver says. “That means...”

“Yes, it must be the darkness.” Vil completes.

“Jamil-sama, when I heard you went to school earlier than usual. I scrambled to catch up...” Fake Kalim says, worried. “Oh no, how could this be?! Please, hold on! I'll get you to a doctor! Guards! GUARDS!”

The ground was painted black and Jamil began to sink rapidly into darkness, surrounded by a dark fog that prevented him from seeing you all well. And guards of black goop formed to prevent you from approaching them.

“Kalim...?” Jamil says with some difficulty.

“Yes, that's right. I'm the real Kalim, your loyal retainer.”

“Huh? Jamil, look again! That's not me!” the real kalim tries to warn him.

“He's an assassin sent to end you.” the fake Kalim tries to convince him “Don't listen to a word he says.”

“Wait...” Jamil looks directly at you with heavy eyelids struggling to stay open. “(Y/N)... they...”

Black goop rises from the ground and forms a figure, a perfect copy of you, also wearing Jahar Sahir College's uniform.

“I'm right here, my love.” your copy tells him. “They had the nerve to impersonate your beloved as well. But I'm here now. The real me. The real (Y/N). Look in my eyes. As long as you stay here, you can be a ruler forever. Money, land, freedom, love... Everything is yours!”

“Yes... That's the truth...” Jamil gives in. “You're absolutely right, both of you...”

“Wait! Trust us, not them!” Kalim shouts again. “JAMIIIL!”

But none of that stopped the darkness from swallowing Jamil.

“Stop disturbing Jamil-sama's sweet dreams, you street rats!” The false Kalim commands you.

“As if we'd listen to you!” Sebek retorts. “Let's do this!”

You all change your clothes and fight the darkness. And after defeating it, Kalim jumps into the pool of black goop without hesitation behind Jamil, followed by all of you.

When you open your eyes again, you see that you’re in the Hallway of Scarabia Dorm. By the red light that dimly illuminated the place and the dark fog, you realized that it was the same scenario as when Jamil overbloated. Suddenly, you hear a creepy laugh you've heard before and you all go to the lounge.

“I did it... I finally got Kalim ousted from school and claimed the position of housewarden for myself!” Jamil is the center of attention in the room, wearing his drom uniform, and had that psychopathic smile on his face. “Bring on the food and drinks! This calls for a celebration. The foolish king is gone, and the true power behind the throne has risen in his place!”

While the Scarabia students follow his orders, you see Azul next to Jamil with that red glow in his eyes.

“Wait a minute, those eyes...”

“Hey, (Y/N). You put it together too, right?” Grim tells you in a whisper. “Looks like Azul ain't fakin' it like he did during winter break. He's really under Jamil's control.”

Most of the dorm's students, who were all actually the darkness in disguise, were gathered in the lounge. You were decidedly outnumbered. Idia says that the best thing would be to get into a more advantageous position and make a surprise attack, so you will quietly make your way behind the students and then launch a coordinated strike on cue. Silver says that Idia should give the signal and the others would carry out the attack.

“Ahh, I feel on top of the world. So this is freedom! How sweet it is.” Jamil keeps chattering. “The biggest thorn in my side, Kalim, is gone. Azul has fallen into my hands.” he looks to his right side to see Azul standing right there. “And (Y/N)...” He looks to his left side, but finds no one. “...is trying to escape again? *sigh* Bring them back to me!” he orders the Scarabia students.

Silver pulls you behind a pillar and you all hide.

“Mrah! What do we do now?!”

“Hand (Y/N) over.” Idia says to everyone's surprise.

“What?! Have you gone insane as well?” Sebek protests as quietly as he can. “What about the surprise attack?”

“Listen, if Jamil really likes (Y/N) he won't hurt them.” Idia explains. “And (Y/N) can help distract him and provide a more effective surprise attack.”

Sebek, Silver and Grim are reticent, but you are the one who takes the initiative and gives yourself to the Scarabia students while the others remain hidden. Two students hold you by the arms and take you to Jamil. And to your surprise, as soon as they let go of you the darkness forms shackles around both of your wrists.

“It pains me to see you reduce to this, (Y/N).” Jamil tells you and pulls you by the chains of the shackles to bring you closer to him. “But you insist on resisting me. Oh, and those clothes... Let's give you more suitable ones, shall we?” He uses his magic pen to turn your NRC uniform into a Scarabia Dorm uniform. He laughs with satisfaction. “A beautiful desert bloom such as yourself should be on the arm of the most powerful housewarden in Night Raven College. What do you say, my dear? Why refuse to be my new Vice Housewarden, and partner?”

“To be honest... I also have a crush on you, Jamil.” you admit and he smiles, too pleased. “But not this version of you. The real you. Or rather, the best version of you, that I know exists behind this senior psychopath.”

“The... real... Hrk!” his head hurts and the world distorts a little, but Jamil pushes you, making you stumble and fall to the ground.

“I'll teach you some respect... but until then...” he orders that the Scarabia students grab you by each arm and lift you up. “Let's just calm that rebelliousness of yours for a while.”

As the students hold you by the arms, he holds your chin to make you look at him. You knew what he wanted to do to you and struggled to keep him from using Snake Wisper on you. You are saved by Kalim, who attacked Jamil before the signal with a solid blow.

“Wh... Kalim?! What are you doing here?!”

Silver and Sebek attack the students who were holding you and free you from the shackles by breaking them.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Silver asks you, holding you in his arms in case you need a little comfort.

“Huh? I don't understand...” Sebek says. “The students aren't attacking us...”

“YOU BIG DUMMY!” You hear Kalim say.

“D... Dummy?!” Jamil responds in disbelief.

“The biggest one there is!” Kalim punches him again. “How can you treat (Y/N) like that?! I may not have realized you liked them, but I know you would never do these things to them. You don't want to force them to like you. You want them to like you for who you are. That's why you started getting nervous whenever we met with (Y/N), right?

“Nervous? ... Hrk!”

The dream world begins to distort as he remembers the first time he felt good around you and then begins to worry if you secretly hated him for what he did to you and Grim on Winter break.

“You don't want to use them, you don't want to deceive them.” Kalim continues. “And the same applies to competing with others. What you wanted wasn't a prize earned through dirty trickery! And you know it! Wake up right this instant, Jamil!”

“What I wanted? ...Hrk!”

The world distorts again with another memory: Jamil telling Kalim to shut up! Telling him not to give him orders! That he was through following other's orders! That he was going to BE FREE!

“Argh, you keep trying to tell me my business...” Jamil says, annoyed. “What would someone as oblivious as you even know about me?!” he punches Kalim.

And the two of them begin to fight while insulting each other. Until the insults are reduced to one adjective at a time between punches. Cynic, Imbecile, Jerk, Airhead, Blockhead...

“Such childish bickering...” Sebek comments. “The other students and Azul are all pawns made from darkness, but they're just standing there staring.”

He suggests that you aid Kalim, but Silver stops him.

“Let them get it all out of their systems.” Silver says. “Sometimes a fist fueled by emotion is more effective than any words. ...It definitely was for me.” He gives a small smile.

After some time of fighting, Kalim starts laughing.

“Huh? What could you possibly have to laugh about right now?” Jamil questions.

“Y'know, Jamil... I think this is the first time in our 17 years together that we've ever fought like this!”

“What?! Well, obviously! If I beat you up in reality, it would spell disaster for... Ah?!” The world distorts again. “Gaaah! Augh! It hurts... My head! In reality...? Why did I say that? Rgh, augh...!”

“That's right. This is all just a dream! Please, Jamil, remember! Remember the real you!”

“Right... That day... What I did to you... What I did to... Ah, aaagh...” Jamil remembers what happened on winter break, the dream shatters and he wakes up. “Heh. Haha... Ahahaha... That's right. I failed to oust you that day.”

Kalim celebrates that you all managed to wake up Jamil, but after a little chit-chat the ground starts to shake and fissures began opening all over the place. The dream was starting to break down because Kalim wasn't supposed to exist in it.

Idia warns everyone to get out of the dream as quickly as possible, but then the floor started giving out beneath Kalim. Jamil dove in to save him and the darkness began to dragging him in. Kalim grabbed Jamil to try to get him out of there, but Jamil told him to leave him and punched him when Kalim refused to do so. If you had also tried to help Jamil, he would have just push you too. And Jamil was swallowed by darkness.

When you returned to the dream after the Shroud brothers informed you that it was safe, you landed in Jahar Sahir College. And when you see Jamil he is wearing his Scarabia uniform. Kalim ran to hug him but Jamil dodged successfully.

You and Silver say you're glad he made it back, and Jamil says that he owe all of you a great deal before asking if someone could please fill him in on what was going on.

After the Shrouds show him the explanatory video he says he gets the general gist, and admits that he wasn't entirely sure the rest of you weren't more illusions he subconsciously conjured up, but he never would have thought of the cheat tools idea that Idia came up with. And continued talking about the possibility that it was part of Malleus' spell but it didn't make sense to bring it up to him at all, if that were the case.

“So it's probably safe to accept that all of you aren't illusions created by me or Malleus.” Jamil finally concludes.

“Dude, you were questioning our whole premise...” Idia comments.

“Why wouldn't I, after having my mind, my memories, and my whole world rewritten? But... if you're all real that means...” Jamil looks at you and starts to get worried. “W-when exactly did you get here?”

“Some time before you appeared riding an elephant at the start of the parade.” Ortho answers.

“Yes, we were even part of it!” Kalim adds smilingly. “It was super fun!”

“S-s-so... those people at the parade...” Jamil stutters as the panic grows. “T-the person w-who was with m-me on top of the elephant...”

“Aaaall that until we lost you to that black goop after our fight.” Kalim adds, oblivious to the main point.

“So... that means... that (Y/N)... that whole time...”

“Jamil Viper, please breathe.” Ortho asks him. “I am detecting worrying imbalances in your aetheric structure.”

“Jamil looks like he's going to explode with embarrassment.” Idia says. “I don't even know if that's possible in a dream, but I'd rather not find out.”

You realize the best thing to do is to calm him down, he was unable to say a single word anymore. You take his hands, tell him everything is okay and ask him to breathe.

“I-I-I'm really sorry...!” He says still in panic and almost petrified. “I-I don't know why I did that... I-I didn't want to... I didn't...”

You hug him and feel how tense all the muscles in his body are.

“It's okay. I don't blame you.” You say in a whisper close to his ear. “We don't control our dreams. If you remember what happened, do you remember what I told you?”

“W-what did you tell me?”

You confess that you like him too and that you knew that wasn't the real him. Maybe you even say that you’re willing to forget all that and start over as it should be when you return to the real world.

You then feel Jamil’s muscles begin to slowly relax. Until he reciprocates your hug, is as gentle as it is strong.

“I'm sorry...” He apologizes in a whisper, probably the most sincere you have ever heard or will ever hear from him.

“Aww, GROUP HUG!” Kalim says excitedly.

“NOOO!” Everyone else grabs him and stops him from joining you.

“My goodness, Kalim!” Vil scolds him. “You really need to learn how to interpret social insights.”

When you break the hug, he still tries to look you in the eyes, but can't. You chuckle and cup his face to make him look at you.

“Ironic.” You say with a reassuring smile. “You being the one who doesn't want to look into another person's eyes.”

A small smile begins to form on his lips and he brings a hand to one of the ones you have on his face. He looks at your lips for a second and when he sees you smiling connivingly, he kisses you.

A kiss that lasts until Grim loudly clears his throat. As soon as Jamil breaks the kiss and looks at the others, remembering that they exist, he... isn't embarrassed. He smiles smugly at them, still holding you.

“Hey, last time I checked, it was still my dream.”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[missadangel]

The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x OC)

All Chapters List

X. The Conflict (+18, Smut, MDNI)

“non est vivere sed valere vita est.”

Life is more than just being alive.

The distance from the city to the port of Ostia was not great, but the ride was rather lengthy and tiring, even for a seasoned rider. Octavius was ever watchful, noting when you were faltering and offering you a respite. You declined, though your body was crying out for it. Your sole concern was to reach Marcus before it was too late. Fortunately, a little later, Octavius noticed a few tracks on the ground as you passed through the dark woods, slowed down and dismounted his horse. He crouched down and examined the tracks then looked at you.

"We should continue on foot from this point onwards, my lady."

"Are we close?" You looked around but there was nothing in sight.

"Indeed. We must proceed with caution and avoid attracting attention. We need to leave the horses here," he said, holding the reins of his horse as he approached you and extended his hand.

"Thank you sir but I can dismount myself." You said and got down from your horse, despite the soreness in your legs. It felt nice to be able to step on the ground again. Unio let out a soft neigh, as if she had read your thoughts. You stroked her face and, grasping her reins, walked in the direction Octavius had said. It was quite some distance from the road and not very visible. In this darkness of the night, it would have been difficult to see anything if not for the moonlight anyway.

Once you had tied your horses, you set off through the forest, guided by Octavius. You eventually reached a hill. It appeared to be a rather tranquil. The only sound that could be heard was the hooting of an owl.

“My lady, if I might ask you to consider promising me something,” Octavius said.

You raised your eyebrows. “What is it?”

"If we don't make it in time, you'll come back to the villa with me."

“No need to worry about that now, if we make it in time, Sir Octavius.”

He sighed. “I'm pretty sure Acacius will kill me this time,” he muttered.

You looked at him with a hint of guilt. “I'm sorry, but you're doing this for him, for your General, your friend.”

"I hope he's already taken care of him and I hope we've came here for nothing. I'd be really happy to be reprimanded and even punched by him."

You laughed nervously. "Would it offend you if I said I hope so too, sir?"

He grinned. "Never, my lady."

"You are a good friend, Octavius.

"Always at your service.”

You were startled by the sound of a horse neighing and immediately sought cover behind nearby bushes. You observed that three horses were tethered in the forest.

"That's Dromos," you realized.

"We must be close," Octavius said quietly.

You soon heard the sound of swords clashing in the distance and moved at a slow pace towards it. When you saw Marcus from behind, you were on the verge of running to him without thinking, but Octavius grabbed you by the shoulder and pulled you back.

“We can't let them see us,” he said, warning you.

He led you to move out of sight to the left, where you hid in the bushes. You observed the situation at a distance and noticed that Marcus cut a soldier with his sword made him collapsed to the ground. However he was alone, probably having lost his men. Macrinus, on the other hand, was standing just behind the five soldiers.

“General, you must cease this nonsense. You'll get yourself killed.”

“Not before I take your life first!”

Your heart was racing with worry. Even for Marcus, who was one against five men, survival was a near impossibility. Octavius stepped in front of you as you stood up.

“My lady, please wait here, I will back him up," he whispered, his hand moving to his sword.

Just then, you heard horse hooves and three horsemen appeared, coming towards them from ahead. Macrinus let out a laugh. Octavius swallowed and looked at his General, unsure of what to do.

At the time you thought you had to stop it somehow, knowing the fact that Marcus won't stand much of a chance. It seemed that he had no intention of retreating though. Furthermore, he assumed a defensive stance, grasping his sword more firmly.

You reached out to grasp Octavius' arm as he began to step towards them.

"I must stop them."

Octavius opened his eyes wide. "But how, my lady? No, return to your horse now, and-"

"No, please hear me out. I don't believe Macrinus will harm me. And Marcus won't let him go no matter what. Besides even with your help, you can't beat all of them. This is the only way.”

Octavius seemed unsure. "What makes you so sure that he won't harm you?’

“Think about it. He has known me for quite some time.” You observed them from behind the bushes. It seemed as though Marcus was contemplating an attack. “If he wanted to kill me he would have done it when we were alone, but instead he made me appear before the council, why do you think?”

"To help you regain your title and gain formal recognition."

'Well, it wasn't out of the goodness of his heart, of course. I believe that when he ascends to the throne, he thinks it would be beneficial for him to have a strong consort that he values in his council." Your voice cracked.

Octavius clenched his jaw. “There is no stronger consort than a princess,” he muttered. Then opened his eyes wide. “If he kills the General-“ he swallowed, words caught in his throat.

“I won't let that happen. So step aside and let me stop them.”

Octavius nodded in despair. "If things don't go well, I'll be here to ensure your safety and that of the General. I'll do my utmost until my last breath.”

You nodded and took a deep breath, moving slowly through the bushes. Just then all five men and the others drew their swords making a schwing sound echoing through the woods.

"General, this is my final warning. It is not possible for you to survive this." Macrinus called out to him.

Marcus was aware that, regardless of his considerable strength as a warrior, it would be extremely challenging to fight against such a large number of soldiers. But retreat was not an option for him. He had to take Macrinus down and make sure his head was severed from his body, no matter what. If he could do that, he didn't mind facing his own death in the end. He was only afraid of being separated from you; he had no other fears at all. He was truly grateful for all those beautiful moments he shared with you. Getting ready for a confrontation, he pointed his sword at the soldier charging towards him. Just as he was about to attack, you suddenly jumped in between them, yelling.

“Stop!"

With determination, you swiftly drew your knife from its sheath on your ankle, holding it firmly in one hand as you prepared to execute your seemingly absurd plan. Marcus opened his eyes wide, looked at you in surprise, and then glanced around.

"Aurelia! What the hell are you doing here?" He yelled.

"My lady!" Macrinus was shocked too. Keeping his distance, moving towards you behind the soldiers, equally bewildered.

"End this, please." You said without looking at either of them.

"Go back, now!" Marcus shouted, knowing full well who had brought you here.

"I'm not going anywhere without you," you protested.

"I have to finish what I started. Now, go!” He hissed.

He brandished his sword at Macrinus's men once more, determined not to back down. You, however, had no intention of letting him get himself killed. With no other option, you put your knife against your neck. Marcus looked back at you, astounded. As your eyes met, Macrinus, as you had suspected, grew concerned and approached you.

“That knife looks pretty dangerous, my lady. I think you should give that to me.”

“Stay back!” You shouted at him, “Don't come any closer!”

“Are you mad? What do you think you're doing?” Marcus roared. He was boiling with anger.

"I'm a medicus, aren't I? I know exactly how and where I should cut to kill myself without suffering."

Marcus clenched his jaw.

"Do you wish to kill yourself, my lady?" Macrinus asked.

You looked at him, feeling the sharp surface of the knife, it made you tense but forced yourself to stay calm. Also, it seemed like a good opportunity to see if your theory was correct.

“You don't want me to die, do you, Sir Macrinus?’

He raised his hand as if he wants to stop you. “No, of course not, my lady. Please put that knife down.” He looked at Marcus. “Acacius, I think we're done here.”

Marcus looked at him with a piercing gaze. “This isn't over, Macrinus.”

He laughed, then his gaze hardened as he looked at him. “You'd better be on the right side when the inevitable happens, General, if you care enough for your wife.”

“If not today, rest assured that I will end you.” Marcus growled.

“It would only be to your detriment,” he said, his eyes shifting to you before he nodded and turned. He tapped one of his soldiers on the shoulder. “Sheath your swords! We're heading for the harbour!” He jumped on his horse and the soldiers followed him behind.

Marcus turned his head towards you and came up to you angrily, snatching your knife and pulling so hard that you stumbled towards him.

"Why did you come here? How dare you hold a knife to your throat?" he barked. His voice was loud enough to make you startle. "I didn't give you this to cut yourself! Don't you value your own life at all?"

"You're the one who doesn't value your own life!" You shouted back. Marcus frowned. "What's the matter with you? Do you think it's worth risking your life trying to kill him? You know how it feels when you lose someone you care about. How can you be so selfish? Have you ever thought about what I'd do if you died? You're so mean.”

As your tears rolled down your cheeks, Marcus' expression softened. He approached you, took your face in his hands and gently wiped your tears away with his thumbs. His dark brown eyes spoke volumes, but he was so angry that he remained silent. After staring at you for a while, he pulled his hands back and looked towards the bushes.

"Octavius! I know you're in there, get over here now!"

The bushes rustled and crunched loudly. As soon as Octavius set foot on the dirt road, you noticed the tension on his face despite the darkness. He came up to you and bowed his head to the General. Marcus gripped him by his leather armour in his fist and pulled roughly.

“Since when have you begun to disobey my orders?”

“Forgive me, sir. I was wrong.”

“I forced him, Marcus,” you interjected.

He ignored you. “I told you to protect her, you shouldn't have cared about what she said to you. You should have stopped her, Even if it meant locking her up or tying her up, it would have been better to do so.”

You laughed hysterically. “You can't be serious.”

He turned towards you. “I'm quite serious, my lady. Instead of risking your life in such a ridiculous way, you would be safe."

You rolled your eyes. "I wasn't really intending to kill myself. I just wanted to be sure of Macrinus' intentions, but you were so determined to sacrifice yourself without listening to me, so I didn't know what else I could do.”

“We'll talk about it when we return home,” he said, pointing his index finger at you. Then he turned and approached his soldiers lying lifeless on the ground, sorrow evident in his eyes. “Octavius, make sure the funeral rituals for our brothers shall be arranged.”

“Yes, sir.” He approached him, kneeling next to a soldier and closing his eyelids.

From a distance, you watched them and found yourself blaming yourself. Perhaps if you had arrived sooner, you could have played a role in saving their lives. Or, if you had come later, Marcus might have faced a similar fate. You shook your head and tried to put these thoughts out of your mind.

While Octavius tended to the deceased soldiers, you and Marcus returned to the villa on horseback. It was just after midnight. The vast majority of the villa's residents were awake and gathered in the courtyard, awaiting your return. Marcus remained silent all the way back, likely still enraged at you. You were no different. It was torture to think that you had nearly lost him because of Macrinus.

Cato respectfully took hold of the reins of Marcus' horse as he jumped down. You dismounted too, noting that your legs felt a little sore from the long ride. As soon as you landed on the ground, you felt a momentary loss of balance, but Marcus' arm caught you. You smiled at him. Even though he was angry; he was still there to protect you. However, he did not smile back. Instead, he took hold of your wrist and pulled you towards the courtyard.  Furthermore, he was not as gentle as he usually was. He did not care when you moaned from the pain in your wrist. He took a quick glance at everyone in the courtyard who greeted you and pulled you towards the stairs. When you turned your head, you saw their faces. They seemed grateful for the safe return of their Dominus, but perhaps a little worried about you. At least, that was your interpretation, because you knew you were in trouble.

He shut the door behind you. You were glad when he released your wrist, as it started to throb. You knew it would be bruised by the next day. Marcus put his holster away while you rubbed your wrist with your other hand. You went over to help him remove his armour. He was aware of your intentions and leaned against the edge of his desk with his arms folded. There was blood splattered on the Medusa's face and on the leather strips of the armour. You gave Marcus a direct look as you undid the armour's threads. He was still frowning and staring ahead. He still seemed to refuse to look at you as you undid the other side.

“You know you're not the only one who's angry, right?”

He then turned his head to you as your fingers unraveled the threads a little harder.

“You can't be any angrier than I am.” He took off his armour.

You crossed your arms, “Why not, I can be just as angry as you.” You lifted your head and looked away stubbornly.

Marcus was trying not to laugh at your behaviour. He pressed his lips together and cleared his throat.

“No way, princess. I'm more than angry; I'm fuming!”

You looked at him as he walked towards you. His gaze certainly showed his anger, but when you noticed the hint of mischief at the corner of his lips, you decided to continue playing this game. He was removing his armbands.

“Fuming? Hah! I'm furious!” you shouted sarcastically.

He threw the armbands on the floor and came right in front of you. This time his gaze was intense.

“I'm filled with wrath!” he growled.

You involuntarily took a step backwards. “So?” 

He appeared to be relishing the opportunity to engage in this somewhat heated, sexual tension-filled game, as he took a few steps towards you.

Suddenly, your back slammed on the wall. He lifted your wrists above your head and leaned in.

"I think you deserve some punishment," he murmured, his breath caressing your ears and causing your body to shudder. He pressed his pelvis against yours and his lips found the vein on your neck. He sucked and nibbled at it, sending a tingling sensation throughout your body. His lips trailed from your neck to your chin, and you found yourself longing to touch them.

You took a sharp intake of breath. He teased your lips with a slight touch before retreating. You leaned forward, aiming for his lips, but you failed. He smirked. His right hand roughly removes your cloak and undresses you, while his left hand keeps a strong hold on your wrists. Your dress fell to the floor, pooling around your feet as the hem caught on the scabbard tied around your ankle. Marcus bent down, untied it and pulled it off. Suddenly, he grabbed you by the legs and threw you over his shoulder. Before you could blink, you were on the bed, gasping for breath. Your stomach tightened with excitement when he emerged from above you.

But he still hadn't taken off his tunic, you thought angrily.

It seemed a bit unfair that you were the only one who was naked. He pushed you back gently when you reached towards him. "Not yet, princess." His hot breath hit your breasts, making you squirm. You were infuriated when he roughly spread your legs with the palm of his hand. Was he going to enter you before your lips met and traveled over each other's body, before his hands caressed your breasts? That's what he called punishment?

You bit your lower lip as you felt his strong fingers on your most sensitive spot. But his fingers lingered, moving in circles. You wanted to sit up and look at him, but he pushed you backwards with his other hand. After teasing your clit with his fingers, which made you clench the sheet, he grabbed your hips and buried his head between your legs. He deliberately blows into your folds, making pleasure run through your body. His erection sears your skin, making you aware that he's getting pleasure from driving you mad with his mouth. He flips his tongue and sucks your most sensitive area hungrily, relentlessly. You moan loudly and your response encourages him to increase the pressure. He is an expert in the art of pleasure giving and he uses you as skilfully as he uses his sword.

“Marcus,” you groaned, you're almost sure that your voice echoing in every corner of the villa. Feeling almost at the edge. You feel him smiling as he moves his lips and touches your body with his warm tongue and fingers. But he retreats suddenly. You moan in protest. You open your eyes to look at him. Panting. You feel a surge of disappointment and a distinct sense of being used. But he laughs cruelly. He wipes your sweet liquid from his lips with his thumb, then licks and sucks the tip, smiling crookedly all the while.

You frown. “So that was your punishment?”

“I was actually going to do more, but…" He quickly takes off his tunic, throwing it on the floor. “I missed you so much and I want you so badly right now.”

“Take me then.” You smiled naughtily.

He smiles back and grabs your arm, using his soldier strength, he turns you and bends you over until you're crouching on your knees. One of his hands is still holding yours behind your back, and the other keeps your torso down so your breasts press against the silk sheet. You wriggle, and his grip tightens. Gods! You haven’t ever felt so helpless. Used like a toy. He keeps teasing your lower wet lips with the tip of his erection. His voice is husky, sensual. “How will I take you, my sweet princess?”

He digs his fingers deep into the cheeks of your butt. This position feels raw, animalistic but pleasantly erotic at the same time. “Shall I take you this way?” he asks without stopping his hungry attack. His warm breath, and beard tickles your ear, and waves of hot pleasure wash through your skin. As though your body is a toy, he forcibly turns you again, and now your under him once more. One hand holds you immobile by your throat. The other grabs your hip. "Or this way?" he says as his now-soaked tip presses against your entrance, bringing shudders and ecstasy into your squirming body. You moan loudly, pressing his lips to yours roughly, silencing you.

He’s taken full control of your body and won’t share it with you. He’ll take you in any way he wants. And, yet, because your body is yearning for him, you can’t bring yourself to ask him to stop, this was a huge turn-on for you. "Marcus," you whimpered. "Please, I want to be yours. Take me now. Pretty, pretty, please." You begged.

He smiled and let you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to you. He was as impatient as you were, but he was determined to keep this fun and heated game going. He was having fun rubbing his lips against yours and making you whimper a little more. For him, there was no comparison to watching you squirm to be his.  But he couldn't wait to be inside you, and when he finally pushed his length inside your walls, entered you roughly, your body trembled with pleasure. You felt euphoric when his mouth finally met yours. You enjoy him kissing you with incredible hunger until you forget to breathe. With each rough thrust, you instinctively dug your fingers into his back which made him lose it, deepening the kiss, turning it into a carnal mating of mouths. He bit your lower lip, and you moaned with both pain and pleasure. He released his bruising grip, the hard press of his lips, and rolled onto his back, taking you with him. He seems a little worried, but when you giggle at him, he grins and buries his head between your breasts, licking your sternum all the way to your neck. He grabs you by the waist and spins you around, your back hitting his chest. He kisses your shoulder, nuzzles his nose into your hair and finds your ear.

“I want to take you this way.” His hot breath hits your ear as he caresses his way up your neck, making you shiver.

He practically has to arrange your limbs himself as he folds you forward onto your hands and knees and settles behind you. He wrapped his arms around your torso, entering you from behind, and you moved together, as one, never once breaking your intimate connection. When he increased his rhythm, one hand gathered your hair on one side of your neck. His lips traveled from your neck to your exposed shoulder, while his other hand wrapped around your waist. This position made you feel his length much deeper inside you. Your mewl-like moans were added to his and harmonized with the slick sound of each thrust. it sounded like your own special music. Marcus' hands slid under your arms to your breasts and cupped them. You threw your head back in pleasure, bumping into his shoulder as he kissed your neck repeatedly. With his forehead and brows covered in sweat, he sensed that the end was near and his hands gripped your hips tightly, deepening his thrusts and reaching his climax at the same time as you. You instinctively leaned forward as he filled you with his warm liquid, but he caught you and wrapped his arms around you tightly. He groaned loudly and his hot breath washed over your ear. You felt his nose on your cheekbone. His hand cupped your chin, turned your face to his and kissed you passionately. As you wrapped your arms around his neck and turned towards him, he pulled out of you and pressed his forehead to yours, both of you panting. Your eyes were closed, savouring the moment as the sweat mingled on your forehead and ran down your cheeks. You opened your eyes as Marcus placed a kiss on the tip of your nose.

He brushed back a few strands of hair that stuck to your forehead, also caught in your eyelashes. You looked into his eyes and looked at him.You spoke with your eyes for a while, then he frowned. He took your face in his hands, his expression serious. You were unaware that you were crying until his thumbs wiped away your tears from your cheeks. He bent his head and kissed your eyelids and long eyelashes. You nuzzled your head into his neck and he wrapped his arms around you. You couldn't stop your sobs and tears. All the emotions you felt seemed to take over your body at once.

His fingers ran through your hair. “My love. From now on, I won't risk my life easily,” he said in a velvety tone. “So please don't cry.”

You nodded and sniffled. Marcus kissed the top of your head and pulled you down with him onto the bed. You snuggled into his chest, realising how much you missed him even though it had only been a few days. It was late at night and the only sound in the room was the two of you breathing.

“I guess this has become a habit for me,” Marcus broke the silence.

You raised your head and looked at him. You ran your eyes over the sparse beard on his chin, greying in places.

"I've always lived my life like this, always fighting, battling, killing. It's the easiest thing I can do." His fingers traced the curve of your spine. “I was never afraid, not of death, not of losing. I just fought. It was easy because I had nothing to lose. That night, when I was poisoned, I knew it was time for my eternal rest. I felt relieved, not afraid, but ready.”

You swallowed, thinking about that night for the first time in a long while.

"But then I saw those eyes and they gave me the purpose to carry on living." He tenderly touched your cheek with the back of his hand. You raised your head to meet his gaze. He was already looking at you.

“Now I have a responsibility,” he smiled. “My weakness.” He bent his head and stroked yours with his nose. “A beautiful reason for me to die for.” His lips ran through your forehead. "Dying for Rome is easy, simple. But for you, my lady, it's hard, painful. The thought of never seeing you again.” He exhaled deeply. “It puts me in agony.” He frowned. “Just when I saw you put that knife to your neck so recklessly. It was painful too. I'm still angry with you for that.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow to look at him. "I feel the same way, Marcus. I can't even begin to tell you how much it hurts me to think of losing you. I couldn't sit idly by while you risk your life. I'd never be able to bear to lose you." Even the thought of it made you shudder.

He sighed and turned his head towards you. “You won't lose me. There is nothing more important to me in this life than you. How whole and at peace I feel when I hold you in my arms when I'm deep inside you. The reason is you, princess. The reason I wake up every morning with a smile. The reason I am eager to return home from my duties. To you. So I don't want you to do one more thing to put yourself in danger.”

You kissed his chest. You wanted to say more but his words were so beautiful, you couldn't object. You felt tired from the horse journey so you snuggled closer to him. Before he wrapped his arm around you, he covered you both with the sheet. You were finally about to get the peaceful sleep you had been longing for for days. In his arms.

When you woke up in the morning, the sun was high in the sky, but it wasn't its light that woke you up. Instead, it was the gentle caresses you felt on your legs that roused you. Your hand moved to the side of the bed to feel the sheets, but Marcus wasn't there. You opened your eyes when the caresses on your legs were replaced by nibbles. Was he under the sheet? Your eyes opened wide when you saw Marcus's face, smirking at you from between your legs.

“Morning, princess.” His boyish and mischievous grin spread all over his face. “May I?”

“What are you- Ow!” You gasped when you felt his tongue on your most sensitive area.

Expertly, he was licking, biting, sucking, giving you incredible pleasure this early in the morning. You had now discovered all the men inside his enormous body. The honourable man, the dominant leader, the fearless warrior, the poet, the loving husband, the romantic gentleman, the expert lover full of lust, the child inside the fourth year old man.

You smiled when the lustful expert lover has taken you to the sky full of pleasure. It's empowering to know that it was you who drove a powerful, dominating, strong beast like him mad. As you descend from the sky, he settles on top of you, placing kisses from your legs to your belly and then to your breasts and chin. He kisses your eyelids and asks you to look at him without telling you. Now that you know him so well, you immediately obey. Since you are already so ready for him, he enters you easily. He wraps his arms around you, you throw your hands back and clench the sheets. Your body curves backwards and he speeds up his thrusts. You try to suppress the urge to close your eyes tightly. He realises and finds a new solution for you and presses his forehead to yours. You smile when your eyelashes touch. But then, when he gets closer to the edge, also gets deeper into you and increases the pace tremendously, he buries his head in your collarbone. You wrap your arms tightly around his neck. And once again, you ascend to the sky. This time, you feel immense pleasure. You feel a few bites on your neck. You look at him, your eyes alight with wonder, and marvel at the beauty of the man that is coming undone inside you. He tightens his arms around your waist and moans as he reaches his climax. His body collapses on top of yours, his arms loosening. It's so beautiful to watch him as you feel his heated breath on your neck. To feel his heart thudding violently against his chest, the way your bodies connected. You both savour the glorious, euphoric feeling of being in love. Your breathing returns to ease, you feel him soften inside you and he lies down beside you, pulling you into his arms.

"Do you have any duties today?" you ask as you run your fingers over his chest.

"Yes, first I have to meet with my legates, then I have to go to the barracks. I believe there may be someone spying for Macrinus. It would be beneficial to find him before he returns to Rome."

"Didn't you say you'd already found him?"

"No, he was Julia's." His voice was sharp. You were sure he killed him. It must have been very hard for him though, a soldier from his own troops spying for someone else. After a moment or two of silence, you asked him to change the subject.

"Am I forgiven?"

“I’m thinking about it.”

You sat up in bed, intending to study his face, but suddenly a feeling of nausea hit you and you fell back. Your neck hit his shoulder.

“Oh…" You put your hand to your head. Your vision was blurred, closed your eyelids.

“My love. Are you alright?" There was concern in his voice. He sat up in bed and wrapped his arms around you.

You opened your eyes and smiled at his worried face. “My head is spinning a bit.”

“It's almost noon. You've been sleeping for a while.”

“Noon?" You hadn't realised it had been that long. You were usually up early, woken by the rooster. Perhaps it was because you hadn't slept well for a few days without him.  Maybe it was because you hadn't slept properly in his absence for days. "But did you wake up first and await me?"

"That is correct, but then I became somewhat impatient if you remember." he winked.

You smiled shyly. He graciously kissed the top of your head. “My lady, I believe that you may be hungry, are you not?"

You yawned and nodded. “Indeed I am. I must admit that I am rather famished after my longest horse journey.”

He laughed. "I'll tell them to prepare a lunch for us. I must then take my leave.”

Once Marcus had departed from the villa, you wanted to check on the girls. Norell and Decima were sitting together in the courtyard, weaving rugs. You stood nearby, observing them. Decima was from Egypt, so she was used to weaving and her hands were moving with practiced ease. She mentioned about it before.

"My lady, would you care to try?" Decima asked.

"It looks very intricate," you hesitated.

Tullia came into the courtyard with a laundry basket. She made a slight gesture of respect with her head as she caught sight of you. You observed that she was walking with a slight limp. She seemed to be in pain.

“Tullia, your leg seems to be bothering you."

She put the basket down and let out a sigh. “My knees, my lady. I guess it's because I'm too old now.”

"Let me take a look," you said gently, walking over to her. Despite her objection, you helped her sit down in the chair and examined her knees. Given her late fifties age, you diagnosed her with rheumatism, given her late fifties age.

"I think I know what will be good for you," you said, walking to your private clinic-like room. Tullia's eyes widened when you returned with the hemlock jar.

“Isn't this herb poisonous?”

You smiled. “Yes, and potentially deadly.” You teased her.

“Gods, my lady, please forgive me if I've made a mistake.” She placed her hand on her chest.

“Please calm yourself, Tullia. It is indeed a very poisonous plant. However, it is also very useful to the body. I'll make you a tea of this, you drink it every other day, understood?’"

She was still looking at you weirdly.

You laughed. “You do trust me, do you not?”

She nodded.  "I am grateful to you, my lady, for ensuring General's safe return to his home. So, I have great trust in you.”

You smiled. ”I imagine you must have known him for quite some time.”

"That's correct. I've been fortunate to reside in this villa for as long as I can remember."

"I see. Then you knew Marcus's father, the Dominus'?"

"Yes, my lady.”

She had been with him for many years, residing in this villa. She had likely witnessed his childhood, his youth, his unhappy marriage, everything. You felt a bit envious of her, as though she knew more about him than you know about Marcus. But you were also grateful for her loyalty over the years.

“It's the first time I've seen him alive,” she said, surprising you.

“How do you mean?” You demanded.

"Dominus. He would prefer us not to call him that, not after his father. I must say that after you came into his life, I felt like I didn't know him.  He was rather solemn, and it was rare to see him smile. But now I see that he's really alive. It's so pleasant to see him like that. I'm really grateful for that, my lady."

You put a hand on her shoulder. "And I'm grateful that you have cared for him over the years, that you have served him, that you have looked after him."

She put her hand on yours. "It is my duty," she said, smiling softly.

“Domina!"

You both turned your heads to the slave who came running towards you.

“My Lady, the Imperial guard has arrived.”

You inhaled. "Am I being summoned?"

The slave looked at you with hesitation and bowed his head, which meant affirmative. Decima came to stand beside you. "Shall I come with you?"

You grasped her hand. “Yes, please.”

It was your brother Geta who summoned you this time. You weren't particularly curious, but you felt it would be a good idea to pay him a visit. You couldn't help but feel a little concerned about him, though. Besides, it seemed like a good idea to stop by the poorhouse on the way back. You were keen to find out how the children are doing, since you missed them. By the time the imperial carriage arrived at Palatine Hill, it was already late afternoon. You came to realise that you didn't miss wearing stola much since it was difficult to get used to the feeling of being tangled in their feet. And the knife Marcus gave you wasn't helping at all. It seemed a little odd to wear it on your ankle when you couldn't actually use it properly, but you had promised him after all. Geta was waiting for you in the great courtyard. When he realised you, he came running to you with a wide smile, his arms outstretched.

"Aurelia, you've been missed, sister!" He embraced you. You flinch every time he does this, but he deliberately ignores it.

"I'm really curious to know why you called me here."

"Come, let's talk while we drink. Shall we?" He led you to an armchair in the courtyard. You sat down next to him, and adjusted your dress to cover the knife on your leg.

"Wine," Geta ordered the slaves.

One of the slaves poured you a glass of wine. Decima was standing right next to you.

"So, you ordered the guards to send food to the Poorhouse," Geta said, taking a sip of his wine.

You brought your glass to your lips, but the smell was unappealing, so you put it on the table, and pushed it forward with your fingers.

"I did. Or, are you angry with me for this?"

Geta laughed. "I can't possibly be angry with you. However, I believe this is an unnecessary expense."

You glared at him. "Surely it's not as unnecessary as a tiger?"

"At least the tiger entertains us, sister. What is so interesting about those people? Nothing. I have not yet informed Caracalla of this, so you'd better end it before he becomes aware of it."

You leaned towards him. "You are not fully aware of the gravity of the situation, so you speak with undue levity. Would you be willing to abandon those children to their fate?”

He exhaled loudly. He pretended not to care, but he was thinking.

"If you'd like, I can show you. Caracalla doesn't need to know. Trust me, it's a lot cheaper than what you spend on other unnecessary things.”

"No way I'm going there!"

You sighed and stood up. "You do as you wish," you said, with a hint of sarcasm. "I was just considering paying a visit there." You glanced at him, took a step forward. He stood up too, grabbing your arm from behind.

"You've only just arrived, stay a little longer." He sounded like he was begging. He was looking at you in a strange way, you averted your gaze.

"I'm a married woman, I have responsibilities. And those children are one of them." You looked at him again. "As Emperor, you have responsibilities as well. They are your people too. You could come with me and see for yourself. If you are not convinced, I will not bring it up again. I promise."

He thought for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, you win. I'm coming with you.”

He stepped towards to the entrance, but you stopped him by tugging on his arm. "Perhaps you might like to consider changing your attire?" You asked, running your eyes over his fancy toga.

"What's in my attire?" He looked down at himself.

"Well. Your bronze crown, your gold embroidered toga, your gold bracelets, necklaces, and rings, need I say more?’

"Or do you want me to dress like a commoner? Never!" He frowned.

You rolled your eyes at him. It was futile to try to persuade this stubborn boy. So, you gave up. "Very well, as you wish, Your Majesty.”

His frown vanished and he smirked.

As you made your way across the courtyard towards the gate, you became aware of a few murmurs and turned your head in that direction. A group of people were heading into the great hall. Their attire differed from that of the members of the Senate.

"I had completely forgotten they were coming today," he said.

'Is there an official meeting with Caracalla?'

“Our relatives,” he murmured.

You regarded him with a look of surprise. “You were correct in your assumption,” he said, observing them from a distance. “The execution of Gaius has caused some distress within the dynasty in Leptis Magna. They have come here to speak with the emperor.”

"And what about you? You are the emperor as well."

He shrugged slightly. "It doesn't matter. I'm sure he will make a decision similar to the one I would have made."

"Which is...?"

Geta's face suddenly became serious. Without answering, he pulled you towards the gates roughly. But you clearly heard the sounds of screaming and shouting coming from the hall. You felt a shiver run down your spine.

“Did he murder them?” Your voice cracked.

He grabbed your shoulders and pushed you into the carriage. "They killed themselves at the very moment they set foot in Rome, Aurelia.”

It seemed that Decima was attempting to sit next to you, but he indicated the seat opposite. He then sat right next to you. You couldn't focus on them staring at each other, the screams still echoing in your ears, and continued to torture you all the way. All this brutality felt so wrong.

When you arrived at the Poorhouse, the children noticed you and ran towards you with huge, beaming smiles on their faces, gathering around you with cheerful laughter.

“Princess Aurelia!”

You smiled at them. They then looked curiously at your emperor brother, who was standing behind you. The guards approached Geta, looking a little wary. Geta covered his nose with his hand. With a somewhat displeased expression on his face he extended his arm towards them as if warning them.

“Don't you dare come near me!” He yelled.

“They're just children,” you muttered.

“But, they're filthy,” he grimaced.

You rolled your eyes and went over to the boy you had met earlier. It seemed that the mother and baby were doing better. You asked Decima to bring your bag and, as Medicus, you examined the woman and her breast milk, which was now coming in. Geta observed you as you treated a few wounded and sick people. He maintained his distance, of course. Since these people had only seen his face from a great distance before, their jaws were dropped open when he appeared before them in all his majesty.

The provisions have been brought as you requested. But it didn't seem to be enough to feed these people, yet they were happy and grateful.

"I should also provide some new clothes for them," you said, approaching Geta.

He folded his arms and looked them up and down. His expression had become somewhat more gentle, as though he was lost in thought. He seemed to be deeply affected by the unfortunate situation he had witnessed.

"You were right after all," he murmured. "They really do look rather poorly."

You looked at him. "Your Majesty, you have decided to extend a helping hand to these people?"

He locked eyes with you for a moment, his expression hard to decipher, but he seemed happy. Then he cleared his throat. "I would never allow them to pollute the streets of Rome." He turned to one of the guards. "Do as Princess Aurelia says. Make sure you provide what is needed here. And if you dare to speak to my brother about this, I will have your tongue cut out myself.”

The guard bowed his head. “Yes, Your Highness.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you, brother. I believe there may be some good in you after all."

He frowned. "I'm not sure if that's meant as an insult or a compliment."

“Perhaps both.” You stuck your tongue out at him and laughed. You were just trying to make him laugh and your intentions were innocent. But he wasn't laughing. In fact, he was looking at you seriously in a way you'd never seen him before.

"Don't laugh at me like that." His voice was sharper than his gaze. “As if you don't belong to someone else.”

You swallowed, his eyes looking at you with a dangerous intensity. You averted your eyes.

“My lady,” Decima came to your side. She was holding a bowl, without even turning your head, you could smell what was in it. The smell of meat was intense. You felt like your stomach was cramping.

“Hot, freshly prepared food has arrived, the children are eating. Would you like to have some too?”

Instinctively you covered your nose with your hand. "No, Decima, could you keep that bowl away from me?"

"Ah, it seems we have some things in common after all. I think it looks disgusting too." Geta said with a displeased expression. "Well, I think I've seen enough, I want to leave now." He turned towards the carriage.

He raised his hand and beckoning you to join him. As it was nearing dusk, you were keen to return home, so you nodded in agreement. However, as you began to walk towards him, your vision blurred, and your feet betrayed you, causing you to collapse on the ground. When your cheek touched the cold cobblestone, you felt a severe headache. Then everything went black. The last thing you remember was Decima and Geta's concerned voices mixed together with the voices of children.

You felt slight shaking of your body, which prompted you to wake up. Your headache was still present, opened your eyes slowly. The first thing you saw were the golden curtains glimmering by moonlight, which entered through the long window. Next to the window was an armchair with golden details. It seemed as though everything in the room had a golden hue. You realized that you had been in this room before. You were beginning to regain consciousness. You then sat up.

"Sister, I hope you are feeling a little better?"

You opened your eyes wide and looked at Geta, who was lying next to you. On the bed. His bed. You let out a scream in shock. He flinched.

"WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE?” You quickly checked yourself over. Your clothes had been took off, and you were wearing a white, almost see-through tunic that didn't just belong to you. “What happened to my clothes?” You yelled.

Geta covered his ears with his hands. “Ugh! Could you please stop screaming? You're hurting my ears!”

“What have you done to me?”

He laughed loudly and hysterically. "Apart from making you clean up and bring it to my room? What was I supposed to do? You collapsed on that awful, stinking street. Should I have let you stay in your filthy clothes? It was gross, so I had them thrown away."

The slaves must have dressed you, at least that was a relief. But you were still very angry that you had been put in this embarrassing situation. You realised that his eyes were roaming over you. You grabbed the sheet and pulled it up to your neck, covering your body.

“Get me some decent clothes now!” Your voice was slightly trembling with anxiety.

Geta raised his eyebrows, he pointed his index finger at himself. “Did you actually say that to me? You have no manners at all. You don't know how to talk to an emperor.” He teased.

You moaned in response, placed your head in your hands and rested on your knees.

“Please, call Decima over here.”

"I want to know why you fainted. Tell me, are you sick?"

He touched your shoulder, you pulled yourself back and got out of bed. It is almost nighttime now. The mere thought of Marcus coming to Domus Severiana and seeing you like this made you shiver.

"Girl!" Geta yelled towards the door.

Decima and Geta's slave entered the room together, both looking at you with concern.

"Make sure you dress the princess properly. Otherwise she'll be torturing my ears with her squeaky voice all night." He said, squinting at you.

You ignored him. When the girl left the room to bring you a stola, Decima came over and held your hands.

"Are you alright? You frightened me.”

"I'm fine, but we should return to the villa now."

‘"Indeed, you've been unconscious for a while, it's almost midnight."

"Midnight?" You bit your lip.

Now that was something to worry about. You were sure Marcus would be here soon. Luckily the slave girl came with a stola and began to dress you. You heard footsteps and then a knock on the door.

Geta was still sitting on the bed, wine in his hand. With his permission, a slave boy who came in looked scared. “Your Highness, my lady. General Acacius-“

“Aurelia!”

Marcus's booming voice made you feel like you were on the verge of fainting again.

Geta grinned. "This is going to be fun."

You warned him as he was leaving the room. "Please don't say anything ridiculous to him.”

He shrugged. With your heart beating like it was going to burst out of your chest, you urged the girls to hurry up. Geta left the room. You tensed up even more when you heard him calling his name. Finally, the girls finished dressing you as quickly as they could, and you left the room, heading for the stairs with Decima who was trying to catch up with you. As you descended the stairs, you saw him and locked eyes with Marcus. He observed you with a keen gaze. You bit your bottom lip. He then looked at the stairs that belonged to Geta's chamber, then at Geta himself. Suddenly he grabbed Geta's collar with his fists, causing everyone to become tense.

"Have you gone mad Acacius? What do you think you're doing?” Geta barked.

“Marcus!” You ran towards them.

The guards drew their swords.

“What have you done to my wife?” He roared.

“Get your hands off me now!” Geta warned.

“Marcus, please, it's not what you think.” You grabbed his big hands and tried to pull them away from your brother's collar, but it was like moving a marble statue.

“You don't seem to be taking good care of your wife like you promised.”

Marcus tightened his grip and shook him angrily. “What are you saying?”

The guards approached the two of them, their swords pointed at Marcus.

“General Acacius, I warn you.” One of the guards said.

Marcus ignored him, his dark eyes locked on Geta’s.

“Your wife fainted in the middle of the street. I wonder if you were aware that she's been sick.’’

Marcus then withdrew his hands, released him. You exhaled in relief. Geta ordered the guards to put their swords away.

Marcus stepped towards you. "Is that true?" He sounded concerned, touching your face with his hands.

You grasped his hand. "I felt unwell for a moment, but I'm fine now."

Marcus observed your face a little more. Then put his arm around you and glared at Geta. "We shall take our leave now."

Geta shouted behind you two. "You're not even going to ask for my forgiveness, Acacius?"

Marcus answered without looking at him. "With all my heart, no."

You turned your head and looked over your shoulder at Geta. He looked angry and annoyed. You gave him a faint smile.

"Your Highness, shall we stop him?" One of the guards gripped his sword once more.

"Just give us the order, Your Highness."

"Shut the hell up! Leave me alone, all of you! Get out of my sight!" He shouted at them and walked towards his chamber. Caracalla watched the whole thing from a distance, he was looking at his brother coming up.

"You're so pathetic." Caracalla chastised.

"Don't you start!" Geta barked at him, walked towards his room, and slammed the door.

It was well after midnight by the time you arrived back at the villa. Marcus still seemed a little tense, which made you wonder what he was thinking. He was looking at your ankle as you walked to your room. He stopped in front of the door.

“I do not see your knife.”

You looked at him, you had no clue.

“Here, sir,” Decima said. She came up the stairs and stood beside you. She was holding your scabbard in her hand. She handed it to you. “After you fainted-“ She avoided Marcus's stern gaze, turning her eyes to you. “I'm the one who dressed you so I kept this.”

“Thank you, Decima.”

She smiled. “If you'll excuse me, sir, my lady,” she bowed and turned to head for the stairs.

Marcus closed the door behind you. He placed his hands on your shoulders and guided you to sit on the bed, then sat down next to you.

"My love. Are you sure you're feeling well?" His hands touching all over your face.

How can I possibly feel bad when you touch me like this? You thought.

"I suppose I do not need to bring a Medicus for you?” He smirked. “So, what is your diagnosis, lady medicus?”

You smiled. “Hmm, I think I became a little nervous when I-“ You swallowed.

“Continue, please.”

"Caracalla. He had our relatives from Leptis Magna killed. I didn't see them, but I heard them…”

Marcus frowned, clenched his hand into a fist and pressed it to his forehead. He then closed his eyes. “That scum. He must be out of his mind for sure.”

You put your hand on his shoulder. "How do you mean?”

He then stood up. You went over him, untying the strings of his armour.

"Macrinus. He has a majority in the Senate. He managed to eliminate Gaius and his supporters. Caracalla is his instrument. It is likely that he will announce him Commander of the Praetorian (Imperial) Guards imminently. I should have killed him last night." He banged his fist on his desk, almost startling you.

You took a deep breath. “Then why did he go to Libya?” You helped him take off his armour.

"I believe there is a possibility that he is raising his own army. I haven't heard from the legions in that area for some time now."

"His own army?" You shocked. You hadn't realised how serious things were.

"If my suspicions are correct, yes. He also would want to incorporate the southern legions into his own as well."

"Your legions?"

“I'm afraid so.” He turned his head towards you. "I may have to go there soon."

You cringed and your chest hurt. You weren't expecting this at all.

Marcus realised the look on your face and put his arms around you. "I'll have to kill him sooner or later. And them too." His voice was sharp.

Surely you were aware of whom he was referring to.

“I will not waste another generation of young men on their arrogance and vanity. I will not allow Macrinus to use your brothers' trust and start a civil war that will harm Rome.”

“Caracalla, yes, but maybe Geta-“ the words seemed to stick in your throat.

"Are you defending him to me?"

"Absolutely not." You shook your head. "I was just thinking he might make a good emperor.”

"Please Aurelia. I assume you're not meant seriously.”

"He's not like Caracalla. I believe you are aware of that. I don't think you are truly inclined to kill him."

"I was considering it. When I saw you coming out of his chamber..." He pursed his lips, trying to be calm.

You tensed as you remembered that moment. "I'm truly sorry about that." You bowed your head. Marcus placed his hand under your chin and gently lifted your face to look at your eyes.

"He didn't touch you, did he?" His brown eyes were almost black.

"No, Marcus. Of course not."

He grabbed your face in his big hands, pulled you towards him, you stumbled with the sudden rush of his. "I am the only one who can touch you. You are my Aurelia. Mine."

"I am indeed, Marcus.”

"Say it," he demanded. "Say that you're mine. I want to hear it from your lips."

"I am yours." You said softly.

He smirked and bent his head, kissing you roughly almost forcefully. His skillful hands were not gentle while undressing you in a hurry. When you were completely naked, he scooped you up and put you on the bed. In the blink of an eye he was on top of you and then inside you. While he’s having you roughly, his lips, his tongue, his teeth travelled over every possible part of your flesh. Marking you. As if physically claiming you. Making you his.

The sun had just risen when you opened your eyes. But it wasn't its light that woke you. It was the sudden pain in your stomach and the feeling like you'd been punched. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hand, attempting to suppress the urge to vomit. You hurried out of Marcus' arms and ran to the latrina. He was roused from his slumber by the sound of the door closing with a resounding bang.

“Aurelia?”

You were too distracted by feeling unwell to focus on his concerned voice. You splashed water on your face to feel better after violently throwing up. Suddenly you felt Marcus's hands on your shoulders. “My love?”

Your stomach was still causing you pain and you found it difficult to speak. Also, your head was spinning, so you took a moment to lean against the wall. Marcus quickly took you into his arms and carried you to the bed, sitting next to you.

“My lady, I'm really starting to worry now.”

“No, please don't. If I get some rest, I'll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” He took your hand in his hands.

You nodded and smiled at him. But his face showed concern.

“Perhaps I could stay here with you today.”

Just then, there was a knock on the door and Cato came in with Marcus's permission. He gave you both a nod. “Sir, I am here to inform you that the soldiers you have been expecting from the south have entered the city at dawn. The Legates have requested an immediate assembly.”

"Is that so? At last, some good news." He said, then looked at you with uncertain eyes.

You smiled at him and touched his hand with yours. "Please do not concern yourself with my well-being. Just leave. It must be important."

He leaned towards you and kissed you on the forehead. "Have a good rest, my love. And please be well." He kissed your hand before leaving the room with Cato.

After a while there was a knock on the door again. Decima brought breakfast for you.

"My lady, are you feeling better?"

"I believe so."

She approached your bedside. "Would you like me to feed you?”

You laughed. “Dear, please. Hopefully I'm not in a situation that requires me to be fed." You got out of bed and walked towards to the chair. You weren't exactly starving, but you knew you needed to eat to feel strong. You asked Decima to join you.

"My lady, well I am. I've been thinking it over.”

“Hmm?”

"This nausea you're feeling, the headaches. I wonder if...’ When she looked at you suggestively, you swallowed and looked at her, taken aback.

You'd never thought of that. As a medicus, you were confident that you didn't have any other underlying health issues. On top of that, it had been a few weeks since the wedding and you hadn't had any monthly bleeding since then.

"Gods," you murmured. "Could it really be?”

Decima took your hands, seemed excited. "I think so. Have you ever examined a woman carrying a child?"

"No, I've only assisted women in labour. I know how to run a consultation though. But it's still too early to be certain."

Decima smiled widely. "I hope you're with child."

You couldn't help smiling back. "I hope that too. But we should keep this between us for now."

"Indeed, of course.”

“Domina!” came a voice from behind the door.

“Come in.”

The slave boy from yesterday came in, his face was worried again.

“Am I being summoned again? Please tell them I'm sick and having rest.”

"You're not being summoned, my lady.”

“What's the matter, then?”

He bowed his head, as if he didn't know what to say.

“Tell me.” You demanded.

“If you can come down, you'd better see for yourself.”

You exchanged glances with Decima, then got up and left the room. As you were making your way down the stairs, you almost lost your footing when you saw the person standing in the courtyard.

“Lady Domna?”

Julia was waiting by the fountain in a black cloak. She looked a bit worried and uneasy.

"May I ask what you're doing here?"

"We need to talk." She said in a commanding tone.

You suddenly felt tense as you remembered your last conversation with her. What the hell was she doing here?

'Do you usually keep your guests waiting without offering them a seat?'

You rolled your eyes and gestured to the armchair nearby. “Have a seat.”

She sat down in a rather arrogant manner. “Leave us,” she told your slaves. But they were looking at you. Julia was annoyed.

You sat opposite her. “Leave us alone please," you said the slaves with a smile. They then bowed their heads and left the courtyard. Decima too, she nodded.

"Your slaves don't know how to behave." She muttered.

"Could you please tell me why are you here? I thought you were in Syria?"

"I've recently returned. Never mind that. I need you to help me with something."

"My help? Why should I help you?"

"Because I believe you would want to.”

You crossed your arms. "What are you talking about? Speak clearly, please."

Julia sighed. Then leaned closer to you with a sharp gaze, whispering. "I need you to help me kill Caracalla.”

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[rogue-durin-16]

HEAD-TO-HEAD (part XXV/?)

Summary: Joe thought she was pretty. Had he just said that, things might have been different for them. Maybe they wouldn't have gone head-to-head at each other for three years like it was a contest.

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Genre: angst/rivals to lovers

Tags:

Head-to-head: @derersketnoget @ladystardustfromarss @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark @sxalbatf @jetjuliette @luvrottt @fromjupitertocentauri @ecompstolemysoul @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bitter-post-millennial @gotxpenny @knight-of-thesun @scottstr3et @aliciax3

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark @gotxpenny

Permanent taglist: @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, blood and gore

A/N: I cannot believe we've gotten this far, it's CRAZY. Dreading getting to the last part but I mean, it is what it is. Enjoy<3

Head-to-head masterlist

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The laughter coming from Chuck's little story about Guarnere was still suspended in the chilly Zell am See night, when we spotted it.

"Chuck, look." I carefully nudged my friend's bicep, nodding toward the side of the road. Two parked vehicles—haphazard, with the lights still on— with a man standing between them, swaying just enough to set off a quiet alarm in us.

"I see it." Chuck's driving slowed down to a stop at a relatively safe distance, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. "You think he's hurt?"

"I think he's drunk." I muttered, eyes squinted at the lonely private.

"Shouldn't we go help him?" One of the new kids on Chuck squad, until now observant of both the eerie scene and his Sergeant's demeanor, suggested.

The blue eyed man puffed out a sigh, sparing me a sideways glance. "Bet now you regret tagging along."

"We'll see about that." I replied, one of my hands landing on the windshield's edge for leverage. I didn't even get to push up to my feet before Chuck stopped me.

"Wait here." Chuck muttered, already swinging a leg out of the jeep. His voice was purposeful and calm when he addressed the stranded soldier. "Hey, Mac. You need some help?"

A giggle. A slurred mumble I had to strain my ears to catch—something about a Major. Chuck stopped dead in his tracks.

"Shit," I breathed as my sight caught the body slumped near the curb, face-down in the gravel. Blood had already started to congeal beneath it.

"What do we do, Sarge?" one of the privates leaned in to whisper the question, voice tight with the nerves that came with witnessing a situation you weren't trained for.

"Stay put." I commanded, jumping off the jeep. My boots hit the ground with a thud as I moved in Chuck's direction. The man across from him was fumbling with his weapon, laughing to himself.

"Hold on—" The Sergeant's hand hovered near his pistol when the intoxicated private turned his back to him.

"Grant." I called, earning an instant-long look over his shoulder. Too late.

Bang!

"SARGE!"

"SERGEANT GRANT!"

I didn't feel myself lift my arm, didn't remember aiming—just the jerk of recoil and the split-second flash as I fired at the soldier now scrambling back into his vehicle. He ducked. Another shot rang out from his window.

Something slammed into the right side of my torso, knocking the air out of my lungs. Barely registered, though, because Chuck was lying there—no, not lying, crumpled—his head cracked open like a dropped melon, his brains scattered beneath him. I kneeled down on the grit, shaky palms shoving my gun back into my holster to hover uselessly over my friend's body.

Check the pulse. He's breathing.

"Help me—" my voice wavered, eyes still trained on Chuck's cracked skull. Stop. Try again. "Jesus Christ… help me move him! Now!"

Grant's squad rushed at my order, scrambling to lift the limp man up, trying not to wince at the sight. My breath hitched when we rose to our feet at the count of three.

With my heart pounding in my ears, we moved him to the back of the jeep, one of the privates reaching into the backseat for his first aid kit. I took on the task to wrap the unused dressing around Chuck's head when the young soldier's grip on it faltered.

This can't be happening, I thought to myself as I tightened the pearly white bandage. The war's over. This can't be happening.

"Someone radio the Captain."

"Sergeant Y/l/n—" another private, already climbing into the back of the vehicle, pointed his index at the burnt hole in my jacket.

"It's fine." I snapped, adrenaline drowning everything as I circled the jeep to jump on the driver's seat. "Get that fucking radio going right now."

The pain at my side throbbed beneath the rush; a warning light out of sight. I didn't check it until we were already tearing down the road, the wind stinging my eyes. My fingers touched the edge of my ribs and came back wet. Blood—warm, sticky, dark against my skin.

But I could breathe. I could move. I was upright. That meant it wasn't bad. That had to mean it wasn't bad.

The ride to the designated aid station was a blur of panic, shouts and stress; the privates were off the vehicle before I could kill the engine.

"What the hell happened?!" Talbert's voice hit me like a slap, him, Roe and Speirs barrelling out of a nearby parked automobile.

"Some drunk bastard—american—" I bit out the sudden wave of pain when I got out to help them out Chuck on a stretcher. "just... shooting people by the road."

"Are there more casualties?!"

"Two, I think. British Major and..." Focus. I blinked, rubbing my forehead. "I don't know. He fired at Grant, then bolted."

Talbert cursed, long and vicious, before shoving through the door the surgeon was leading the paratroopers through.

Speirs fell into step beside me, focused, jaw locked, eyes fixed on Grant but mind working elsewhere. I would've sworn I caught something similar to fear in the back of his dark gaze.

"You think you can identify the man?"

"Yes, Sir. I saw his face." I winced when I pressed at the ache curling hot in my ribs, almost subconsciously trying to make it stop. "I'll know him."

He slowed down and took a moment to scan me before motioning at my side. "What's that?"

"Just a scratch, Sir."

He didn't believe me—not fully, anyway—,but didn't press; we had more important matters to attend, like working against the clock to preserve the miracle of Chuck's heart still beating.

"Have Spina take a look back at the hotel."

"Will do, Captain." Lie number two. Speirs seemed to consider calling me out on it, but ended up turning to Floyd instead, spitting orders I only half caught.

"Y/n." Talbert tugged my arm. "We gotta go. C'mon."

I followed him back out of the aid station, into the night. My steps became slow—felt like it at least—right as we reached the jeep. The ride mushed the headlights, the nausea and the taste of copper in my mouth altogether until I wasn't sure what was real.

"We gotta wake up everybody. Take the first floor and go up," Talbert ordered when he pulled up at the hotel's entrance. "I'll take the fourth and down. I'll see you at the entryway."

"Got it." I muttered, seeing the noncom rushing in without waiting for me to fall into step.

I took a deep breath. Went in, dragging my boots over the polished floor. Wake them up. I pushed open the first door, triggering a wave of groans and sleepy complaints from the inside. "Up. Now. We got an emergency."

Another door.

"Move, come on."

A third one, a fourth, door to door without stopping. Quick. Wake them up. The stalking and spinning made me dizzy in a way that didn't feel right.

I got to the lounge room, where Luz and Perconte were playing cards on a misplaced table like it was just another Tuesday night at camp.

"Get up, we got an emergency."

Frank looked up, brows drawn. "You don't look right. Where you comin' from?"

"Night patrol. Chuck got shot." My voice cracked like it had run too far ahead of me. "gear up."

Luz dropped his cards and turned around with wide eyes, like he too couldn't catch up with reality. "Wait what?"

"I said gear up!"

I was about to head for the stairs when George's alarmed voice hit me like a whipcrack. "Wait—what the hell is that?!" The scrap of his chair hurt my ears, way too loud. "You're bleeding?!"

"What?"

"You're—" color drained from his face when his eyes dropped to the floor where I stood. "fuck, you're bleeding."

It fully hit me when I looked down. The right side of my jacket was soaked through, leaving my palm wet and crimson stained. A dark streak had bled all the way down my pants, dripping onto the floor. The temperature seemed to drop drastically, cold sinking its teeth in my bones.

"Oh." I said. It came out stupid. Small. I felt myself sway—or maybe the world had just tilted a little.

"Easy—easy!" Luz reached me first, forearms firm under my shoulders, lowering me fast to the floor. "Shit, you're gonna go into shock—Perco, get Spina!"

"I told her she didn't look right." Perconte insisted distressed, already running up the first flight of stairs.

Luz crouched beside me, voice soft now, "Stay with me, alright?" I nodded—or tried to—, gasping when he pressed a bundle of something against my side. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

The ceiling above me pulsed with a flickering light bulb, a shiver making my body tremble. "I'm fine." I mumbled, eyes trained on the mess of blood I hadn't acknowledged until now. "I'm fine."

JOE'S P. O. V.

I was halfway down the stairs when I heard it. Someone yelling for a medic. I could've sworn Tab said Chuck had been shot in the head. There was no way in hell they had dragged him all the way here.

Perconte ran past me with Spina trailing behind.

What the fuck.

My boots stuck slightly on the floor as I hit the landing—just enough resistance to make my stomach twist. When I checked it, I saw a smear. Dark red. Sloppy. A discontinuous line of uneven crimson droplets down the hall.

My chest tightened.

There were voices—shouted instructions, panicked mutters, heavy breathing—and when I turned the corner, I saw it.

She was slumped against the hallway's wall, puffing out short breaths, her forehead slick with sweat; just like she'd look back in Toccoa after those six miles—only that this time her cheeks weren't rosy, they were sheet-white.

Her jacket was unbuttoned, her shirt soaked with blood and pulled up by her left hand, which pressed the fabric hard over her ribcage, leaving a still fresh bullet wound exposed.

My legs threatened to give out from under me.

This wasn't happening. Not after that fight. Not after what I'd said.

I shouldered through someone—Ramirez maybe, I didn't care— to reach the scene. As if I could have done anything to help. I spared Malarkey a side glance. Despite standing right in front of her, his eyes were on anything but Y/n.

Spina was knelt by her side, working fast, muttering instructions that didn't reach me, yelling for Perconte to go grab something from his duffle bag. Luz, crouched down at her left with her blood on his fingertips, tried to make himself useful by listening carefully to what the medic had to say.

She looked up then, straight at me—or maybe past me, I couldn't tell. She surely didn't say my name. She didn't say anything. Just blinked, slow and purposeful like she was trying to keep herself awake.

My whole body felt like it was gonna split in half; something inside me was tearing at the already ragged seams and I didn't know how to hold it in.

She looked smaller like that. Folded in on herself, barely upright. The way her chest stuttered when she tried to inhale. We had seen men die that way, yet it had never felt like this.

Talbert appeared out of nowhere, reminding us why we were awake in the first place. "We gotta go," he said. "Chuck's barely got a pulse. If we don't find the shooter before he slips away—"

"I'm driving her to the aid station." I cut in, uninterested in whatever point my friend was driving up to.

"We just left the place." Talbert tried to reason, following a logic I didn't get. "There's a good-for-nothing surgeon and barely any supplies. Moving her would be—"

"She's not staying on the fucking floor."

"Lieb," Talbert stepped in close, jaw tight. "We need every man on this. I need you on this." A pause. He searched for understanding in my gaze. "You want to be on this."

"If not the aid station, at least a fucking hospital!" I snapped, panic and anger making my voice shake. "Jesus Christ, look at her!"

I felt it. A light kick to my boot.

When I looked down, her boot tapped mine again—weak, but deliberate, tethering me before I spiraled out of control and made everything worse.

"Stop yelling," she mumbled, barely above a whisper, "you're gonna give me a headache."

I stared blankly, wondering if I heard right. Her lips were dry, cracked slightly in the corner. There was a smear of blood near her cheek, like she had tucked her hair behind her ear. Despite her whole face going paper-white, her eyes were trying so goddamn hard to stay clear. To stay in it.

She was doing what she always did—pretend. Pretending she was fine when everything inside her was fraying; hiding the panic with that same deadpan calm she pulled when shit went sideways. Shoving the pain down, like she'd rather choke on it than admit something was deeply wrong. She was scared. Scared and stupid, but no one pointed it out.

"Go get that sonofabitch." she added, eyes flickering up to mine with a soft plea. "I'm fine." She didn't want me there, and that's what scared me the most.

"I got her. Alright? I'll stay." Luz shifted beside her, eyes wide but focused on us. "She's in Spina's hands. Good hands. Right, Y/n?"

She willed herself to nod, but it wasn't enough for me to move, so Malarkey grabbed my arm, as if he could shake some sense into me. "Joe for Christ's sake. C'mon."

I looked at her one last time and I hated myself more than I knew was possible, because I let Don pull me away.

Squads were sorted out in the blink of an eye, too quick for me to catch who was leading and who was covering which area before finding myself being led to a jeep with Malarkey and one of the witnesses.

The vehicle skid and rattled down the road, headlights barely piercing the mist curling over Zell am See. The engine hummed beneath us like a war drum, steady and loud. Not loud enough to drown out the ringing in my ears.

I couldn't shake off the image either. The blood. Her blood. On the floor, on Luz's hands, on her clothes. I hadn't realized I was gripping the metal of the jeep's frame until my fingers started to ache.

The kid in the back—Hendrix, I believed—looked like he had aged ten years in an hour. He hadn't said a word since we left the hotel. Just sat there, stiff-backed, staring dead ahead.

By the way the ginger was driving, hands white-knuckled on the wheel, I doubted his mind was any less messed up. He hadn't looked at me once since we pulled out.

"What is it?" His voice was forced, a mix of premature grief and bitterness brewing under the simple question.

I kept my eyes forward. "What's what."

"What the fuck is it with you and her?" He specified, louder, more strained.

I didn't find it in me to answer. If I even touched that question, everything would unravel, leaving me empty and reeling. But Don wasn't backing off; not now, when everything seemed a good reason to lash out.

"Look, I've seen some dumb friggin' things in this war," he went on, tone clipped. "But you two? It's like watching a match flirt with a gas tank." He huffed a laugh that was anything but amused, and I wondered how long had he been holding himself back. "You act like you can't stand her, then look at her like you—" His hand hit the steering wheel, making me flinch, eyes shutting momentarily at the violent move. "What the fuck are you doing with my friend?!"

Unspoken words knotted around my heart threatened to spill, each one more dangerous than the last.

I couldn't say I loved her. I couldn't say she meant something. Because if I said it aloud, the choking weight in my lungs—the one caused by the mere thought of the state in which we had left her—would kill me.

And because I couldn't say I loved her, I blurted out, "We're fucking."

The jeep swerved.

"Christ—" Malarkey looked over his shoulder at the private in the back, who was clearly trying not to exist. Smart kid. "Just fucking?" he hissed. "You're just fucking."

"You think this is the time to bring this shit up?" I snapped, voice sharp enough to cut steel.

"I wanna know if I gotta pull over and beat the shit out of you," he growled, "She switched places with Alley tonight. To go with Grant." My stomach dropped at the implication. "If she did that to avoid patrolling with you in the morning, because you're just fucking—"

"Shut the fuck up!" I barked, my voice turning high-pitched and cracking with guilt. "Okay?! Jesus fuckin'—"

Don't cry.

The kid in the back flinched.

Get a grip.

"You think I wanna talk about this now?!" I snarled, breath uneven. "I don't wanna fucking hear it, Don! Some asshole just blew my friend's brains out and the woman I—" don't. "—she's dying on that hotel floor!"

The silence that followed was cold and brutal. The word dying had slipped out of my obsessive thoughts. Now that was real, too.

"She's not dying." Malarkey said quietly. I clenched my lids shut in an attempt to stop the sting in the corner of my eyes from spilling. My jaw locked so tight it felt like my teeth might crack. "She's not dying, okay?" he repeated. "She's gonna be there when we get back."

But I was already mourning her. In some twisted, pathetic way, I was already carrying it. Because if we got back, and she was not there—

"Just fucking drive, alright?"

I tried not to hope. God knows I tried.

[melbatron5000]

It's a 2-man Con

Listen, I think I know a thing.

When Aziraphale comes back from talking to the Metatron and is telling Crowley about being an angel, we've all heard the theory that he's speaking code, trying to ask for help. The more I look at that scene, the more that theory tracks.

Maybe less well-known is the theory that Crowley didn't miss a damn thing, he's answering in his own code. And again, the more I look at that scene, the more this also tracks.

(When my husband, annoyingly observant beloved partner that he is, saw the second season for the first time, he said, "That whole thing was a show for the Metatron. They have a plan. Crowley slipped something to Aziraphale when he kissed him." And I said, "Nah." But now I think he's right, and damn if he isn't smug.)

I'm gonna try to break down what I think they're saying here, because it takes just a hot minute to piece it together. I've been thinking this over for a couple of months now. I think I have most of it. I just don't know when Crowley puts whatever he's handing to Aziraphale in his own mouth. I need more eagle-y eyes, it seems.

First, Aziraphale comes back from his talk. He's pensive as he crosses the road, and anxious when he starts talking, and mouths "I need help!" as he's talking. He's acting like he does when he lies to the other angels, and once it's seen "I need help!" is pretty clear.

He does the whole thing about telling Crowley he could appoint him as an angel, like old times, but even nicer. It's all very uptight and not positive at all. My interpretation? "The Metatron is here, I think he knows we're up to something, we have to go to Heaven right now and put things right before he really does something awful to one or both of us. The time to spring the plan is NOW."

Crowley stares at him. At first it seems like he's staring in disbelief, but if you really look at his face, he's listening, hard, and interpreting as fast as he can:

He asks Aziraphale if he told the Metatron where he could stick it, then. My interpretation? "The plan has changed. I can't go with you to Heaven. You'll have to go alone."

Then Crowley starts his confession -- "We've spent our existence pretending we aren't."

Aziraphale looks at him -- not with shock, or surprise, or love, or hope, but with a "Why are you doing this now?" face. Not "Why did you wait til now to tell me, you love me, oh, I love you too!" But "Why are you telling me SOMETHING I ALREADY KNOW while our ENEMY IS LISTENING??" :

He's confused, but also listening and interpreting. What I'm hearing/seeing: I don't think this is a love confession from our demon. I think they are both well aware they love one another. They can't say it in so many words, and it's a secret from Heaven and Hell, but it's not a secret between them. I'm hearing Crowley set the scene. "The Metatron either wants us together in Heaven under control, or separated. I have things I have to do here or the plan won't work, so we'll have to separate. We need to make it look good. I do love you."

I don't think Aziraphale likes this change of plan. And Crowley can't detail why the plan has changed, not with the Metatron listening. So Aziraphale insists, come with me. The plan we had will work. Do it my way. Crowley says, "You can't leave this book shop." It's easy to interpret that as "You can't leave me," but I don't think it's that. He's saying something about the book shop being safe, or even that he can't leave without whatever they've hidden in the book shop. (I THINK THEY HID SOMETHING IN THE BOOK SHOP!) Aziraphale says, "Nothing lasts forever." I hear him saying the book shop is no longer safe, and they have to move/take whatever they've hidden and they can't speak freely there anymore.

Crowley replies, "No I suppose it doesn't. Good luck." He's gotten that much, but he is still set on his "We need to fake a break up because I can't go with you."

Aziraphale still doesn't like that. "Come back! I need you!" He's scared. Whatever he has to do in Heaven is big, and scary, and he needs and wants Crowley with him. He does not want to go into the mouth of danger alone.

This is when we get, "No nightingales." What I'm hearing? ESPECIALLY since if you listen, you can hear a LARK sing as Crowley goes out the door? It's the line from Romeo and Juliet, by Shakespeare, whose plays they both enjoy, though Crowley prefers the funny ones. "It's too late, that's a lark singing the dawn, not a nightingale singing to the night, we have to part. Our happy ending isn't yet."

Then the kiss. I do not believe this is their first kiss. I don't believe they've allowed themselves many, maybe not even more than one, but I do think they've kissed before. I'm not sure when, but I suspect 1941. (Season 3, come ON!!)

And when they part, Aziraphale stops himself from saying "I love you," and instead says, "I forgive you." I'm hearing so many things in that "I forgive you." I forgive you for leaving me on my own, I forgive you for hurting my feelings like this, I forgive you for changing the plan without telling me, I forgive you because you are forgivable whatever anyone else says, I forgive you because that's what I said when we split up at the bandstand and everything was okay in the end and I hope hope hope that everything will be okay in the end this time too.

Crowley says, "Don't bother." I'm hearing, "yeah, I hope it's all okay, too. Wish me fuckin luck. My part will be hard, too."

And as Crowley leaves, Aziraphale mouths, "No." And we hear a lark sing. A lark, singing to the dawn, and so fair Romeo must away.

Just because the break up is a ruse, doesn't mean it doesn't hurt and isn't hard. It has to look real, and so it's going to feel real, too. Ouch. :'(

And then Aziraphale touches his lips. Not once, but twice. My bad, he only touches his lips once. The first long second is pure emotion. "Why now, I hate this, I want that so badly and I can't have it."

After that, though --

After he pulls himself together a bit, he has a bulge in his cheek. He shifts his jaw to move whatever he has in his mouth to his lips, and then his first two fingers go stiff for a moment as he palms something right before he takes his hand away.

And then, this.

Edit to add: someone on Facebook asked me why a kiss to pass whatever Crowley gave to Aziraphale, why not palm it or drop it in his pocket?

My answers: 1. The kiss is a message. "We're still good, I still love you, I still want this." 2. The item is too important to be dropped in a pocket and hopefully found later. 3. The Metatron is paying WAY too close attention, and will definitely see them touch hands. Seeing a kiss and the angel rejecting the demon, though? Well, the demon forced that kiss on him, the angel didn't want it. Clearly the demon thinks this relationship is different than it is. It's a bigger gesture that sells the ruse. 4. Houdini's wife used to pass him the keys to his cuffs with a kiss before the show. This is a message that magic-loving Aziraphale WILL understand: here are the keys to your cuffs, sneaked to you by your beloved in plain sight.

That's it. That's what I got so far. I still have questions.

What did Crowley pass to Aziraphale? What's the plan? Why did it change? What does Crowley need to do that he can't go to Heaven again?

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 212 (Lost in the Volcano Caves)

"Ash, we've seen this tunnel before," Lavender insisted, following her brother at a dragging pace as they wandered aimlessly through the winding volcano caves. Gord and Captain Whitaker stuck close, eyeing their young humans with confusion.

"How can you tell? Half the tunnels look the same as this one and we've looked at the same rocks for hours!"

Ash was tired and worried. His phone couldn't get a signal in the tunnels they were lost in; if they ever found their way out of here, he knew they'd be in trouble.

"Maybe Gord and Captain Whitaker can find a way out that's only big enough for dogs and get help," she suggested. "I'm getting hungry."

"Me too," he agreed. "Why did you have to run in so far, Lava?"

"I thought I heard a mermaid! Isn't that what Mommy and Daddy are here to look for?"

"There's no mermaids here!" he argued. "No water, just rocks."

"I didn't know that!"

The dogs barked to stop their bickering, and Ash relented to his sister's idea. "Go find help," he urged them, but the dogs waited before taking their leave. Ash bent down to rub them both behind their ears. "We'll be okay until you get back."

With his assurance, the dogs headed off into the darkness, leaving the siblings to turn yet another corner to another endless tunnel.

"We haven't been down this way, at least." Lavender studied graffiti on the walls, illuminated by strange glowing rock formations. "Who do you think painted all these?"

Ash shrugged. "Could have been anyone."

Living with Conrad had trained them well, and both Ash and Lavender set to work cleaning the tags off the walls with their pocket sponges.

"Looks perfect, now," Lavender said, but the momentary burst of pride for their good deed was soon replaced by the grumble of their stomachs. They were still lost. "So what do we do now?"

Ash shrugged. "Stay here, I guess?"

"It sorta smells here," Lavender observed. "It smells like bad eggs."

"Try not to think about it."

"Are you Ash Landgraab?"

The voice from behind them stopped him in his tracks. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what? Is it the dogs? Are they back already?"

Ash whipped around to the sound of the voice. He expected a ghost, but the translucent figure of a woman in prison scrubs and French-style braids threw him back.

"Ash, who is it?" Lavender wondered feverishly. "Is it a ghost? Is it Layne Coffin?"

The figure scowled as Lavender asked a million questions, her ghostly outline a shade of tense orange. "Kids are so annoying. Make her stop," she said.

"Lavender, be quiet! It's not Layne Coffin."

"Well, who is it?"

"It's not important," he said. "It's just a ghost. Just let me talk to them."

"They said I'd find you up here," the ghostly woman continued. "I need you to tell my brother Rafa something for me."

Ash's eyes formed into slits. "Tell him yourself," he shot back.

"I can't leave here," argued Ximena's ghost. "I came up through the gate from..." Her eyes travelled downward, as if glancing past the stones underfoot.

"You went to-?"

"At least I'm not the only one down there," she sneered. "I ended up where I deserved."

"What does Rafa need to know?"

"He needs to know the cartel will destroy them both if he raises my baby. They'll take her from him just like they took me from our parents and turn her into the same woman I became, even if he's not in Selva."

"Won't Los Tigres come for anyone who raises her, then?"

She shook her head. "There are people on the mainland they don't like to touch if they can help it."

"Like who?"

"Like people with the last name Landgraab, or closely connected families. They'll turn all of Selva upside down, terrorize locals into compliance, but they like to stay out of the way of Landgraabs, Altos, Villareals as much as possible - any family with more police connections than they've got."

"Do you know my mom and Conrad want to adopt her?"

She nodded. "I hate that name: Iris, but she's not mine anymore. She never was. I just want to do this one thing for her, to make sure she'll never have to live like I did. Not one day in her life."

"Are you going to haunt us if we take her to Brindleton Bay?"

"I told you, I can't leave here. That's part of the punishment when you go where I am."

Ash scoffed. "I wouldn't know."

"You might know this place someday, Landgraab."

Ximena's tense outline had faded to confident blue - she could sense that her words had been heard by the ghost whisperer she'd come to meet, and her usual bite was still apparent despite her translucence.

Lavender had moved to a stone-carved bench. "Ash, who is it?" she pressed, knowing far less about her father's cartel ex than Ash did. "Are you talking about Iris?"

"It's Iris' birth mother," Ash told her, and Lavender gasped.

"She died?!"

"She asks too many questions," moaned Ximena.

A black-robed figure floated into the cave through the wall, and Lavender stood with excitement when she spotted him. "Grim's here!"

"Hello Lavender, Ash." He nodded politely in their direction before pointing his staff toward Ximena. "I've come to make sure this one heads back downstairs."

"Oh, please! I said what I needed to say, and I'll never try to leave before a certain cherry redhead comes down to join me. Why would I haunt living sims when I can toy with her for an eternity?"

Her eyes burned with fury at the mention of the woman who killed her, and Grim shook his head with disappointment. "That's exactly why you're down there, you know. You still think about revenge, even in death."

"I let go of Conrad and his family," she pointed out. "I'm trying to keep Rafa safe, too. I'm not trying to save my ghostly soul."

With one last look toward Ash and his sister, Ximena's ghost began to fade into the walls of the cave. "She'll be safe with you," she insisted, just before she disappeared.

Lavender noticed her brother's body language relax, and she knew Ximena was finally gone. "Ash, are you okay?"

He nodded slowly. "I'm fine, and she'll never come back to bother any of us once we take Iris home to the Bay."

The Grim Reaper nodded plainly. "She said all she wanted to say. I'll stick around until the gate's locked behind her, but she's sincere. She's got nothing left to gain by lying to you."

Lavender's stomach growled again. "Well, that's good, then! Grim, do you know how we can get out of here? We're really hungry."

Grim nodded, pointing in the direction of another dark tunnel. "Walk that way about twenty paces and turn left. There's a small stone staircase that opens toward the top of the hiking path up to the edge of the volcano."

"Will Gord and Captain Whitaker find us there?"

"The dogs know your smell," Grim assured them. "They'll know where you are."

Following his direction, Ash and Lavender finally found their way out of the volcano caves, emerging into night and bathed in excessive warmth from the fiery glow of molten lava.

"Should we walk back down to the cave entrance?" said Ash, but Lavender was on her knees digging around a shiny rock. "There's something under here," she said. "It's a treasure map!"

"We go home in less than a week. We don't have time to look for buried treasure."

"It doesn't even look like it's for Sulani," she argued. "Maybe it'll just be a place for me to find more MySims dolls! I haven't found any since Daddy gave me his collection to finish."

Their conversation was interrupted by distant barking, and it only took a moment before the hairy frames of their adventurous dogs bounded up the path. Rafa, Conrad, and Heather raced up behind them, embracing both kids as relief washed their fears away.

"I'm sorry," Ash said. "I lied about leaving the beach, and then we got lost inside the volcano caves and I lost phone service."

Heather wrapped her arms around him tightly, but she pulled away with a look of consternation. "I'm glad you can be honest about lying, but you're grounded as soon as we get back to the Bay. Just school, homework, and chores for the next month. And Lavender, you can have extra chores."

"I'll miss the opening of Pearl and Nan's new show!" he protested. "It's A Midsummer Night's Dream and Pearl's Helena!"

"Maybe you can catch the show when you're done being grounded," Conrad countered. "You said you'd stick to the beach, but then lied to your mother and put your little sister at risk."

Ash moaned but understood as his stepfather embraced him. "She asked and I just wanted to see the beach where Marco took me, but then...inside the cave, I saw Ximena's ghost. She talked to me."

Both Conrad and Rafa perked up. "What did she say to you?" Rafa pressed.

"She just wanted to make sure Iris was raised in a good home far away from anyone in Los Tigres. She said if Rafa and Melissa raise her, they'll eventually take her away just like they took her from Selvadorada."

Rafa frowned. "She told you all that?"

"What else did she say?" Conrad pressed.

"She said she wanted to do one good thing for her and for her brother before she never bothers us again. I didn't tell her you'd already called Felix and Judge Morrison to talk about the adoption paperwork, but she knows about it. She wanted to make sure it happens."

Heather's heartrate quickened. "So, now, she's gone for good?"

"Yeah. She seems fine where she is."

The family returned to Ohan'ali Town to pick up Roan from Rafa and Melissa's, where Ash asked if he could be the one to feed baby Iris. His new sister looked up at him with wide eyes in anticipation of the bottle of formula, nestling against his protective embrace.

Ash watched Iris drink with a sense of calm. If the power of his name could protect an innocent baby, he had to use it.

Maybe this could be a way for him to beat back the curse of his family's cruel and punishing legacy. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary | Gen 2.2 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

WCIF Cave Tunnel: The Tunnel by leahvigs on the Sims 4 Gallery. I got rid of most of the lot just to avoid building my own cave tunnel, and this did more than enough because it even gave me graffiti to match Ash's gameplay popup! The original has a DJ booth inside and it's basically an abandoned tunnel turned into a lot for sims into the underground rave scene.

[dufferpuffer]

What makes you say that Remus gets facts wrong or has put the class behind schedule? JKR describes him in an interview as a wonderful teacher (if you take much stock in her opinion), and the criticisms Snape has of him in the substitute teacher episode are just not well supported. For one thing, it's Snape who falsely tells a student that Kappas are from Mongolia. When he criticizes the progress of Harry's class, he a) doesn't give any consideration for the useless professors they'd previously had, and b) is already well known for setting unreasonable expectations. The students think Remus is great because he gives engaging lessons, not necessarily because he is objectively the best, but if Hermione never criticizes the pace of the class, then he's probably doing fine there as well. As far as disorganization, I can believe that Remus didn't leave good notes for Snape. However, Snape admits this isn’t actually a hindrance--he's just finding something to complain about to help cure the class of their love for Professor Lupin.

Snape's behavior in the chapter is a good example of why Snape's obvious contempt discourages other characters from engaging with him in good faith. Also, it's totally consistent with his character to take an opportunity to leverage the little power he has in response to Dumbledore putting someone he considers dangerous in a teacher's position. Personally I think JKR's accomplishment here is that Snape's hatred of Remus bounces between reasonable and unreasonable as we continue gathering information about Snape vs. the Marauders. Actually it's just fun in general to reread the series and see where Snape was right and where he was wrong.

What makes me say Remus gets facts wrong or put the class behind schedule... It is Snape's observation, mainly - I trust what he has to say - supported by what we see in Remus' classes.

Severus has been a teacher for 13 years and produces students with high level marks. He is a good teacher, just one not every student meshes with - and he doesn't adjust to suit stragglers. It's probably his biggest weakness as a teacher, other than being an asshole.

His critiques of Remus' class are:

'As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far-' 'Please, sir, we've done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas and Grindy-lows,' said Hermione quickly, 'and we're just about to start -' 'Be quiet,' said Snape coldly. 'I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organisation.'

Lupin has left no notes for Snape despite knowing the schedule of every full moon for the year. He didn't tell Severus what they were up to or what activity he wanted the class to do - he hasn't even kept a record of what they have already completed up until this point.

That's disorganization. That's not knowing where they will get up to next week or the week after, despite having a schedule. Hermione is keeping better track of the class than Lupin is.

Could Snape be lying to the students about his disorganisation? That would be out of character, especially since the students don't give a shit about such a thing. That detail irks Severus, not the kids. He's just havin' a bit of a whinge.

If Remus had written a note he could have torn it up, complained that they are behind and set Werewolves as their task. No reason to lie.

'You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly over-taxing you - I would expect first-years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows. Today we shall discuss -'

Could Snape be being hyperbolic here? Yes. I expect him to be. Is Snape a hardass that wants a lot from his students? Yep. Does Snape want to make what Remus teaches them to seem babyish, and his lesson more grown-up and important? Absolutely. Does that mean he is lying? No.

I don't think he is the sort to be too hyperbolic. He wouldn't be out here saying 'I expect a first-year to be able to brew a Draught of Living Death' or something. He never expects the impossible. Whether Red Caps and Grindylows are first, second or third year topics - I believe him when he says they are below their level.

'Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognise a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are…'

...This is harder to tell how serious it is. I don't think they would have been at Werewolves yet. Severus is teaching it out of necessity - would Remus ever do it...? Risk outing himself with his own two hands? I doubt it. Severus is also eager to teach it ASAP because he suspects Remus is a dangerous man working with a serial killer.

So does he seriously think that midway through the year a third year class should know how to identify a werewolf - or does he just want to tell Dumbledore he thinks Remus is avoiding it when he should be focusing on it for the students own wellbeing…? Could go either way tbh. Or both. (Hermione knew the answer but I don't really count that as proof lol)

[…]Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Lupin. 'Very poorly explained … that is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia … Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it three …'

You say Snape falsely told a student Kappa are from Mongolia. He didn't - he says they are more commonly found there. I don't see any reason not to believe him…? Why would he be spouting incorrect facts around students?

Lupin prioritizes student comfort. Snape prioritizes student learning. Remus is more likely to get facts wrong. Snape is more likely to piss people off. Remus is more likely to mark forgivingly - an 8/10. Snape is more likely to mark strictly - a 3/10.

It all lines up pretty well.

Remus' first lesson is poorly organised and he is lenient with points. He lets a Boggart loose amongst students without planning for every student getting a turn (Hermione misses out). He hadn't planned for Harry's fear ahead of time, or the risk of anyone else in the class finding Voldemort a little too much. He put his own secret at risk by revealing his own fear, which Hermione uses to work out he is a werewolf.

'Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone. Let me see … five points to Griffindor for every person to tackle the Boggart - ten for Neville because he did it twice - and five each to Hermione and Harry.'

He smooths everything over by giving out house points like candy. He is giving out points to Griffindor for doing classwork…? Whats next, points for tying their shoelaces?

Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face. 'Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay.'

This gets me lol - he's happy they're all pissed off at having to do a big assignment, so he just cancels it. The sheer disrespect...

He could have shortened the length, or pushed back the due date, or dedicated another class to the topic, or even said 'well Professor Snape has his own way of teaching, if he set an assignment I'm sure it's because he thought you could handle it'. Nah. He wants to be the cool teacher that can boss Snape around.

I love the idea that he went to 'speak to Professor Snape' about it. What did he say...? 'Nice try, Sev - I'm cancelling it. B^)'

I don't put much stock into interview responses. The information needs to be at least published in some sort of 'official' format. People can say anything in the spur of the moment.

That being said - Remus WAS a wonderful teacher. I think he was a true natural at it and did a brilliant job overall. His stand-out skills are exactly the things Severus is bad at: connecting with students and encouraging them in ways that suit their individual needs. Remus is a people person and loves the chance to help rather than cause harm.

But he was also a first year teacher teaching a core subject. He was taking at least 2 days off a month and many days off-colour. I wouldn't expect perfection from him, and what Severus critiques (behind on schedule, disorganised, some incorrect information, overly forgiving marking) all sounds like new teacher mistakes. (honestly name a teacher who remains on schedule the whole year irl lol)

It is fun to reread and see where Severus was right and wrong. Especially since on a first read he seems so very wrong, always getting in Harry's way… but most of the time is right, or at least acting very reasonably with the information he has. PoA is a story where he was very wrong. Remus was not working with a serial killer, did not want Harry dead, wasn't working all that hard to bring Harry 'over to his side' (he was sorta annoyingly aloof) and was actually a trustworthy individual and a good teacher - just with a different methodology.

But I don't think that means Severus' observations of Remus' teacher habits were incorrect or grossly hyperbolic. He was looking for evidence that helped substantiated and supported his theories.

[beifong-brainrot]

Honestly for the small flaws it does have, I did overall really like Ashes of the Academy. Like, perhaps it's because of the all-girl's school trauma that I like to brag about ❤️, but I do genuinely like Mai's character development in it, and it warms my heart to see her grow.

I think (or at least I like to think) that a lot of what I expected Mai's character development would be in the comic in my post before the comic came out was on the right track, so I'll try not to repeat myself too much here.

For some reason this panel hit really hard lmao. In a hopeful way

I think my observation that Mai was often forced into things she didn't want, mainly by her parents chasing status, and later Azula. This is, most likely, why she pushed down her emotions, since in her adolescence, her emotions and desires did little to help her. Of course, this led to Mai struggling to express herself and using mainly passive aggressiveness to get through negative emotions.

Though I don't know how I feel about the comics seemingly completely handwaving Michi's involvement in how Mai was brought up. Michi seemed to be at least eager to bolster Ukano's political career at the cost of Mai's psychological wellbeing, mainly being the one to quash Mai's self expression and even scaring her with stories of evil spirits. Also the potential Tom Tom neglect but we won't talk abt that right now.

Mai : My mother said I had to keep out of trouble. We had my dad's political career to think about.

But this isn't too much of a retcon, I suppose, more of a... recontextualisation. Michi could just be incredibly unaware, and, once she realised her husband wasn't great, she decided to step up and try to do better as a parent. Which is commendable.

I know a lot of people were a bit upset about the notion that Azula and Mai's friendship wasn't "organic", but rather due to Mai being pressured into it by her father, as Mai and Azula seemed at least a little bit fond of each other in the show.

Though I don't think this necessarily duscredits Azula and Mai's relationship. I think it was always a complex thing, with both characters having a lot of layers to themselves and their interactions. And Mai befriending Azula at her father's behest doesn't mean she stayed Azula's friend for that reason. We see that Azula had many sycophants, but seemingly only her relationships with Ty Lee and Mai endured.

I also know some people disliked that Mai wasn't a "meanie" like Azula, but, honestly, just because she wasn't as eager and active about it as Azula. Though it is important to note that Mai is implied to have participlated in Azula's bullying (throwing le knives at your fellow middle schoolers may be a little more than bullying though), as well as being complacent in Azula's bullying of others. Which, if you haven't been bullied before, even if only one person is actively bullying you, there's a whole lot of difference between them being alone, and then having a friend standing there menacingly.

And we've already seen that Mai will often do the bare minimum for Azula, and even shunning her "duties" if she thinks she can get away with it.

I think, boiled down to its bare essentials, "Ashes of the Academy" is about characters in the Fire Nation who were previously complacent despite potential doubts taking an active role in dismantling the Fire Nation's harmful traditions and unlearning their compliance.

This is where the mild parallels between Mai and headmistress Shihan come in. They're both characters who were complacent in their environments, bolstering the power of dangerous people and systems just by keeping their heads down. It was safer, easier to comply.

Shihan grew to become one of the Fire Nation's regime's upholders, directly contributing to the indoctrination of new generations. Mai could've easily followed a similar path, if it weren't for Zuko. While I don't think, at the time of atla, she shared much of his 'redeemed worldview', he was still someone she cared for, someone she was willing to rebel for. And it was the first step of Mai unlearing what had been drilled into her from her childhood.

And although the Gene Luen Yang comics weren't the most graceful about this, we did see Mai growing to be more opinionated and genuinely believe in dismantling the system. Once she realised it was possible, and she had gotten more freedom in her life, she grew as a person. Shocker.

It's also important to note that it was, in essence, Zuko who showed her that rebellion is possible. Which is another reason to as why she may have been so hurt when he left. They both felt trapped by the Fire Nation, but alleviated each other's misery. And then, from Mai's perspective, Zuko abandoned her, going somewhere that she wasn't aware she could follow.

However, Mai has, by the time "Ashes of the academy" happened, learnt that she can, in fact, follow Zuko in rejecting the restrictions their upbringings' had placed on them. And that she can, like he did, inspire others, like Shihan and the children, to strive for a better tomorrow. It's all very sweet actually.

It also makes me happy to see that they've both grown so much and gotten healthier since we last saw them. It makes me happy to see Mai tell Zuko whrn she has an issue with something he's done instead of letting it boil over until she blows up at him. And that Zuko is learning to trust again, and to share the burdens of ruling the Fire Nation.

It makes me happy to see them grow, and it does give me hope for the future of maiko. Do that's nice. I know we didn't get much content that is "technically" shippy, but this is very good groundwork, and I'd rather this than for them to get back again and be handled poorly again.

[cheriladycl01]

Best Secret Santa - The Grid x Driver Reader Part 2

Plot: in which everyone wants to have Y/N as their secret Santa because she is the best gift giver and never fails to make peoples day going above and beyond for it!

A/N: A Part 2 was heavily requested! I know it's very far from Christmas but still vibes :)

2024

You smile happily at the camera messing with Max and his cap changing the angle that it was sat on his head.

"So we've got you and Max opening your gifts together this time because of scheduling struggles etc. What an amazing year it has been for Red Bull again. P1 for Y/N the first woman in motorsport to be a World Champion and P3 for you Max. Amazing year, amazing team mates and we look forward to having you together for the next few years!" she smiles and you both nod, Max indicates for you to talk first and you nod.

"Yeah, I'm in shock. It was a difficult year. So many people were strong this year, Lando coming in 2nd. Mclaren had an amazing car this year and the battle was continuous for the whole year and you know I think it was way more enjoyable for fans this year" you smile knowing that some people last year didn't appreciate Red Bull's and Max's domination.

"Yeah you know I agree, I think it was a more difficult year this year as we can tell. I think we'll come back stronger in 2026 with Ford as our partner. But the disparity in race wins this year i can imagine was more enjoyable" Max admits with a nod and a smile at you, pulling you into a side hug, he'd become like your older brother in the time you'd raced with him.

"Yeah of course, and it was a crazy year. Even before the season started we had silly season begin with Lewis confirmed move to Ferrari, then the confirm of the Fredrick Vesti move to Mercedes in 2025. We then had Andretti finally be confirmed in the summer break after being rejected in Feb as a 11th team and Liam Lawson and Theo Pourchaire would join the grid, so for a year that we thought would be solid it really wasn't!" the F1 presenter exclaims looking between the two of you.

"Yeah i think everyone was shocked with everything that went on in February, and how the 2025 line up is looking but you know its a fast paced sport both on and off track" you smile and she pushes yours and Max's presents forward.

"Okay here we go, Secret Santa for Y/N and Max!" Max opens his gift first from Oscar, thanking him.

"Okay my turn! I'm kind of scared!" you say looking at the bag in front of you.

"Well theres another present to come as well but because of what it is, we have to wait to give it to you" the presenter asks and Max side eyes you, looking at your reaction as you reach into the bag.

You reach in pulling out a bag of cat treats and a little fluffy mouse toy. After a second of looking at the camera and presenter confused you turn to your team mate.

"I feel like this is from you..." you laugh, observing the treats and mouse toy. However, next second another F1 team member comes up next to you with a ball of fur in their hands making you flinch in shock.

"Oh my gosh, is that?" you ask looking at the little kitten now being placed in your lap. You look over at Max with tears in your eyes before you fully start to cry.

"Oh Y/N!" Max exclaims pulling you into a hug, not realizing you'd have this kind of reaction.

"I've been saying to Max for so long that I'm really lonely these days when i go home from races!" you smile holding the little grey British short hair cat up to observe him.

You hold him against your chest which he happily nuzzles into falling back to sleep.

"What are you going to call him!" the presenter ask and Max looks over in curiosity.

"My immediate thought was Red Bull, but I think that sounds a little silly. Hmmmm I'll call him Perceval" you smile, kissing the small cheek of the sleepy kitten.

"Is that a shout to Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc?" she smirks and your face reddens a little realizing you have in fact used Charles' middle name for your new cat.

"No, No! He's a British Short Hair, and I feel like Lord Perceval suits him as he's grey and knights wore silver armor!" you explain yourself giggling a little at the end as Max nudges you.

"Thank you so much Max, I don't think I'll be able to part from him so he'll have to come to all of my races with me!" you grin, pulling him into a hug, careful not to squish Perceval who is now rested in your lap.

*Flip*

"And here we have Mclaren driver Oscar Piastri who along with his team mate Lando Norris has had a fantastic year in 2024 and has managed to come P5 this year!" the presenter exclaims looking at Oscar.

“Yeah it's been a great season for Mclaren, you know and I'm really proud of Y/N for everything she's done this year you know not just as a driver but as a woman, she made absolute history today winning and taking the championship. I cant wait for 2025, i think with the new rules its going to be interesting to see how the grid changes up" Oscar smiles.

"Okay, so this is your second secret Santa. Here are the said presents!" the presenter says as a large Christmas themed bag is pushed forward.

He reaches into the bag trying not to spoil it by looking in there taking out the first nicely wrapped gift. He carefully unwraps it seeing a Papaya shampoo and conditioner set.

"Love that we are keeping on brand, it's actually very funny because my girlfriend has this exact shampoo set i think" he says observing it, looking to see if it was in fact Lily's choice for hair wash products.

"That wouldn't shock me, its a good brand and her hair always looks so smooth and shiny!" the presenter offers making Oscar blush a little and grin.

"Mmmm next gift feels a little heavier! Oh wow, a whole cricket set! This is between three people now, this is either Yuki, Lando or Y/N because they are the only people I've told about me getting into this again recently! My trainer and I when we go back to Australia normally will play as part of training!" he says observing the painted bat that was fully personalized to Oscar and what he liked.

"Wait, did Y/N paint this?" he asks looking at little things across the bat, everyone knew Y/N loved art in her free time and would always draw or paint for the drivers and the mechanics.

"You secret Santa did yes!"

"Then is has to be Y/N, i don't think anyone has the level of skill Y/N does!" he exclaims before placing the bat down lightly and moving onto the next gift.

"No way" he laughs pulling out a shirt that has that one smiley beluga cat meme on it that everyone compares Oscar to and a picture of Oscar smiling next to the cat.

"This is 100 percent Y/N, she is always saying i look like this damn cat!" he laughs.

"Okay final present is a bit of a odd one because we actually have to show you an announcement video... to show you the present. You've really got into Valorant recently correct?" the presenter asks and he nods with a confused look in his eyes, having no idea what's going on.

"Yeah, I've played COD for as long as i can remember with Logan, and I started playing with Lando. But Lando suggested Valorant with his friend Max who started to play it more. It's my fav game now!" he explains.

"Okay well here is the official announcement Riot will be posting in 3 weeks, first teaser to come tomorrow!" she exclaims before turning the laptop round to him.

On the screen it shows the head of riot talking about partnerships of 2025.

"As Red Bull very kindly sponsor us and our championship competitions, we are giving back by collaborating with Formula One Red Bull driver Y/N Y/L/N. She has created an agent with help of our graphic design team" he says and Y/N smiles.

"This is the second Australian Agent to come to the Agent Line-up and I'm very excited to be able to dedicate new Controller agent Ozzy to my close friend and fellow driver Oscar Piastri, he has been playing Valorant for quite a while so the character design is based off him" you explain after a cut in the video.

"Now please enjoy some gameplay footage of the new Australian Agent!" you say before it cuts to the reveal of the agent. And to Oscar's shock, the character does look a lot like him, its actually uncanny.

"This is such an amazing gift, I honestly don't know where she pulls all these ideas from... its insane how much she cares and listens to people. She's actually the sweetest person ever and I'm so happy to be able to drive with someone like her" Oscar smiles before the video moves to the next person.

2025

"Now unfortunately this wasn't a great season for you, or for team mate Max was it!" the presenter smiles sadly. You'd come P6 in the constructors while Max had come two above you in P4.

"Yeah I mean Ferrari really flew this season with two great drivers like Lewis and Charles, coming P1 and P2, obviously the Mclaren was just as quick if not quicker than last year so Lando is P3, Obviously Max in P4, the Mercedes was very quick this year hence George in P5. It was a risk with the new rules and using Ford as the supplier and the things we've got wrong we know what they are and we've fixed them for 2026 and I think we'll have better year" you sigh. Max was more consistent than you this year, but you were the only Red Bull driver to take a win this year, it was a rough year considering your 3 years of victories prior, but like Christian had said to the both of you, you live and you learn.

"That's amazing to hear! How do you feel Lewis getting his 8th?"

"I think his time in Mercedes had come to and end and I don't find it shocking that he's changed Ferrari for the better and will pave the way for Charles to become a World Champion!" you explain and she nods before pushing a bag lightly towards you.

"Onto more fun things, its that time of year that we all cannot wait for, its Secret Santa 2025!"

The bag was large but as she pulled the presents out she could see that they were wrapped awfully. She tried not to laugh as she separated out the gifts on the table observing each one.

"Okay, I'm liking the choice of paper, it's very festive. I'm going to have to give the person who wrapped these a wrapping lesson at some point though!" you giggle a little before tearing into number one.

"Omg! tickets to go see Captain America: Brave New World!" you exclaim.

"This either has to be my good friend Esteban Ocon, as a fellow MCU enjoyer or its my little brother on track, ie Mr America himself Logan Sargeant!" you ask looking up to the presenter who just giggled.

"Okay, next present is holy shit, tickets to Disney World!" you look up in shock.

"Look on the back who you are going with" she smiles.

"Tickets for me, you, Oscar and Lando! Logan oh my gosh you are so sweet you are literally the best person ever! Merry Christmas and I'll see you behind me on track in 2026!" you exclaim before the cameras cut out.

*Flip*

"George it's been a fantastic year for you coming in P5, and beating last years world champ! How does it feel?" she asks.

"Yeah, i think Y/N is a brilliant driver and its unfortunate Red Bull had as many faults as they did but that just goes to show how with her and Max it's not just the car its the driver as well. I think i would have quit half way through the season if i had as many issues as they did. But that just goes to show their resilience!" George says politely.

"Okay well, It's gift giving season and your secret Santa has most defiantly treated you!"

"Holy shit" he says turning to his left seeing the massive wrapped box and then a smaller bag next to it.

"I'm going to open the big one first!" he exclaims looking at it greedily.

"Of course you are" the interviewer laughs shaking their head.

"This is like, really expensive. No way!" he scans, after having torn the cardboard away from the state of the art bike sat in front of him, everyone knew George liked cycling, so this was a very nice gift.

"Oh and LOOK! It has mine and Alex numbers added together on it" he observed running his hand over the cyan colours, making out as though its a piece of art!

"Okay next one, is these two in this little bag, we have... ooo this is pretty heavy! It's oh okay its a book, The Art of George Russell: Every Shirtless Photo of George Russell!" he introduces before flicking through it showing the book to the camera, there was little personalized annotations on each photo inside.

"I love this so much, I know its Y/N whose got this for me because she has such a unique and interesting sense of humor, hmmmmm there's got to be another joke" he says before reaching further into the bag to pulling out a smaller and lighter gift.

"A Williams hat, and a .... Brazilian Flag Key Chain. Even though these are Y/N's joke presents they are always still so thoughtful. My time in Williams taught me so much that I carried through into Mercedes with me and Brazil was my first Win in Formula One, and it was really just special to me!" he exclaims smiling, placing the hat on his head before adding the key chain to his set of keys that he fished from his back pocket.

"Okay, last present George!" the presenter exclaims shoving a bigger bag towards him that had a bow tying it together.

He pulls open the bag spotting a few different unwrapped items.

"OH! This is a glamping set! Carmen has been begging and begging me for ages to take her camping in the Lake District as I used to do it all the time when we were kids, I tried to explain to her she wouldn't like camping as it gets kind of dirty. So this whole set is perfect!" he admits, looking through the tent, the air mattress and all the other little bits and bobs alongside it.

"Thank you so much for all of this Y/N i really really appreciate it all. I cant thank you enough!" he grins.

2026

"What a phenomenal year its been, we've had Lewis gain his 9th WDC, Y/N 2nd, Charles 3rd, Lando 4th and Max 5th!" the presenter smiles over to you.

"Yeah, I think we majorly fixed the issues we have last year, but I think we've still got some way to go and you know progress doesn't happen in one season so the on look for 27 is gonna be great!" you grin.

"Okay now it's all our favorite time of the year! It's secret Santa!" she comments and hands you the bag.

"Hmmmm, okay first gift these are..." you says as you pull out a wooden box with a carving on the top. You open it pulling on the metallic latch in the edge and spot inside custom chopsticks that had a red dragon going up the length.

"Oh woah, these are so beautiful, this has to be Mr Zhou Guanyu!" you grin holding them up to the camera holding your hand behind them as if you were one of the beauty influences showing of a blush or lipstick.

"Influencer era" you say making sure they could see every angle of them!

"Wait, can you guys get me anything I can test try them with?" you ask and you wait a little before some brings you out some dishes you could use your new chopsticks with.

"Mmm this is delicious!" you exclaim, and quickly finished up the food they'd provided you with.

"Omg these are crystals! Zhou and I were talking about these and the differences in meanings of the minerals"

You would always wear a good luck necklace in your races that got approved by the FIA when you first started racing. Everyone on the grid knew that you were into crystals and zodiacs, you'd have long conversations with Lando about the western Zodiac signs, and how him being a Scorpio worked well with your Y/S/S.

"These are really beautiful gifts, thank you Zhou! I absolutely love them and I will be sure to use the crystals at every race!" you grin smiling into the camera.

*Flip*

"Liam... Liam this will be your second secret Santa, you've had an amazing year in Racing Bulls and we cant wait to see what you do next year!" the presenter smiles looking towards the younger male.

"It's been a great second season in F1, I think after my years as a reserve driver i was starting to doubt myself but I'm glad that I'm here and racing!" he smiles back at her.

"Okay, so with your secret Santa, it's a little complicated. We're going to have to take you somewhere else to show you one of your presents. But here are the first few!" she smiles handing him a medium sized bag.

He reaches in taking out the first present which is a Lightening McQeen plushie.

"Ahhh, i think a lot of the drivers know my love for the man and legend himself, the reason i got into racing so this could be anyone” He reaches back into the bag to pull out a Red Bull team member top and water bottle.

"Oh!" He looks up in shock before laughing.

"This is definitely Y/N! She's helped me a lot through out the season and is helping me to progress each day! Thank you so much Y/N"

“Okay now if you’d kindly follow us, with this blind fold on we will lead you to the next present!” The presenter says offering him a blind fold. Off camera they walk him to the hotel elevator and out to the car park.

In front of him stands a red Chevrolet, with the number plate LM95 RBR which could either stand for Liam or the initials of his idol Lightening McQueen, with the cars number after it and then RBR for Red Bull Racing. Little did people know that you’d pulled a Lewis Hamilton 24.

Lewis was retiring after 28 season. He’d told you earlier, as it still wasn’t public knowledge. And Ferrari had come to you about the replacement, at first you were thinking you didn’t want to leave Red Bull, but a chance at Ferrari was everyone’s dream in this sport.

So you would be driving for Ferrari from 2029 onwards with Charles Leclerc as your partner, who also wasn’t aware about the move.

Obviously you had to tell the red bull team you were leaving and had pushed them to sign on Liam Lawson as their second driver, push him to be the new Max Verstappen and eventually take that number 1 seat when Max retires.

This is why you’d done the tease of the red bull merch towards Liam, and that’s why he looked shocked in the camera because you both were some of the only people aware.

“Okay you can take the blindfold off” the presenter says and he does, and tears build up in his eyes as he sees the custom painted red car in front of him. It was an older model, one that he could modify and make better which made it such a good gift as Y/N new he liked fixing cars as a hobby.

“This is probably the best gift and most thoughtful thing I’ve ever received! Oh my gosh I wish she was here right now” he says a little overwhelmed as he looks at the car.

“But I am, get in loser we’re going shopping” you shout sticking your head out the passenger side window of the car before you open the door getting out.

Liam runs over to you, pulling you into a huge hug thanking you for the gift. Cameras cut as the two of you inspect the car, pointing little details out that he may have missed.

2027

“What a season it’s been phenomenal we’ve had Charles Leclerc get his first WDC, we had Lando come 2nd with an insanely quick McLaren and he gave us a further contract extension till 2030 in his Papaya team! And you Y/N in 4th just a point behind Lewis Hamilton and a point ahead of George Russell. Great season! How do you feel!”

“Yeah I’m feeling great, there are so many names on the grid right now that it’s really spiced up the races and is having some great battles for podiums out there causing all kinds of wins! I’m proud of what we’ve done in Red Bull and can’t wait for another year!” You grin.

“Okay as usual onto presents, now this is an interesting one and I think you will enjoy who your Santa is!” She grins leaning in her hand as she watches you open it.

“Lots of Ferrari Merch, so it’s either Lewis or Charles, I want to lean towards Charles as the WDC this year! But you never know, is Lewis even in it this year? Oh my gosh did he rejoin?” You ask in shock!

“Okay what else have we got here, oh my gosh it’s a fucking Birkin bag!” You scream looking at the camera in shock. Obviously you were friends with everyone on the grid, it was just in your nature. So obviously you got talking to people about what you did and didn’t like. And when you were taking to Lewis, Carlos, Lando and Charles before a post race interview panel, you all got talking about fashion trends you liked. Hence the very expensive Birkin in front of you.

“This has to be from Lewis, but Charles was at the conversation where we talked about this bag, oh my this is difficult” you exclaims before you finalise its Lewis and you make a gesture of excitement for getting it right.

“Thank you everyone and a goodnight, I’m going to sexily walk away with my Ferrari merch tucked inside the Birkin” you whisper up close to the microphone before they capture you walking off in style.

*Flip*

“Carlos Sainz, you’ve been phenomenal in Audi this year how is the car staring to feel?” The presenter asks.

“Yea, I think you know in one season you cannot expect to get it right, but now that it’s our second year it’s coming along really nicely and I can see us being difficult for the 2028 season ahead” he explains well PR trained and ready for anything.

“Okay Secret Santa time! Let’s go” they say after continuing the small Audi on the ride debate.

“Yes I’m excited I see lots of presents for me, which can only mean uno persona, mi Amiga Y/N!” He exclaims and the presenter just rolls her eyes knowing people at this point know if they’ve been lucky and got you or if they have anyone else because of the vast presents around them!

“Okay well let’s see what Y/Ns got for you”

He proceeds to open a medium sized gift which is a jar of chilis that makes him laugh, as he observes the jar carefully.

“I shall give these to mi madre for cooking, she makes the best food with these chilis you’ll have to come try some time Y/N” Carlos says sending a wink towards the camera that fans would later go wild over.

“Oh this is heavier oh, oh it’s golf clubs and shoes, these are mmmm how does Lando say it, ‘lush’? Is that the word im looking for?” He asks coolly as he inspects the present.

He looks behind him, to see what looks to be just cardboard wrapped around something, he deems it in his head to be a canvas.

As he tears of the cardboard and bubble wrap, he’s met with a paining by you that he looked at and assumed must have taken you hours, of him stood by his race car for each year he had in F1. It was a huge canvas, one that looked like it belonged on a wall in a museum, the art on it did too.

“This is, wonderful. I don’t think I’ve seen something so good since Picasso himself” he admits continuing to look over the painting.

“Thank you for all of these gifts, I truly love them!” He admits.

2028

“So this year felt like 2024 all over again, we had the retirement of Lewis, and you are taking his seat in 2028 alongside Charles Leclerc in Ferrari, how does that feel Y/N!” The presenter asks and you smile.

“I think if you ask any driver what team they’d love to drive for before they leave it will always be Ferrari so the fact that I have the opportunity to drive for them in the next few years and try to win a championship again with them, I’d be honoured” you admit smiling.

“And now we know what last years secret Santa really meant for you when you gave Liam Lawson Red bull gear knowing he’d be driving for them in 2029 and last year, no wonder Lewis gave you his Ferrari merch, it’s because you are taking over his seat!” she asks and you just laugh and nod.

“We’ve had a fantastic year we’ve seen Lando take his first WDC, with Y/N coming in 2nd really trying to show her new team she is ready for them! While her team mate Max Verstappen didn’t have an amazing season coming in 7th” they answer and you clap and praise Lando saying how far he had come and how proud you were on him and how it was such an honor to drive on track with him.

“Okay anyway onto secret Santa Y/N!” She exclaims pushing a small bag towards you.

You grin opening it up, to be met with …. A bottle of WKD…

Very random.

“Okay so WKD is like a teen/young adult alcohol in the UK, so my thoughts would be on Lando, or like George maybe??” You ask before the interviewer has an evil and mysterious giggle on.

“So your secret Santa when you found out it was you, got a little nervous. So he prepared this recording for you, and one final present” the interviewer says before turning the laptop to you and shocking you see …

“Charlie?!! He’s my secret Santa?” You ask in shock.

“Hello Y/N, I will admit I panicked when I was given your name in secret Santa, I’ve had a crush on you since way back in the karting days when I first met you. So, as your secret Santa, my other gift to you, is a date with me! I also hope you like the final present I made for you! I cannot wait to be your team mate, and maybe more if I’m lucky in the future”

The camera pans back to you and your face in bright red, an unflattering blush in your already sun kissed face.

“Here’s the other present” the presenter says tentatively pushing forward a neatly wrapped presents, the work for sure of Pascale Leclerc.

You open up the contents finding the original CD case you’d give him, for his secret Santa back in the day. You open it up seeing a cd and a slip of paper fall out. On the paper we’re all the song titles which had something to do with you, or your career.

He’d quiet literally placed your life inside songs …. And that was quiet the gesture.

“What a whirlwind of a year 2029 will be huh!” You joke before the cameras cut off!

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane

[kaylovestwd]

How the walking dead men react to you being very clingy 😼

(negan smith , daryl dixon, rick grimes, dwight)

(negan smith)

It starts subtly. A lingering touch here, a slightly longer hug there. Negan, usually the one initiating physical contact with his signature possessiveness, barely notices at first. He's too busy barking orders, strategizing, and maintaining the delicate balance of power within the Sanctuary.

Then comes the insistent hand-holding. Not just when navigating the walker-infested perimeter, but during meetings, while eating, even when he's trying to read maps. Negan raises an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

The real kicker? Wanting to be carried. He'd been going out on runs all week and was exhausted. You saw the way he wobbled slightly as he walked around setting new rules so you decided to speak up. "Negan, you're tired. Let me carry you."

Negan chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. "Darlin', as much as I appreciate the offer, I think I can manage walking on my own two feet." You pouted, crossing your arms. "But I want to carry you! Please?" He stopped, turning to face you, a mixture of surprise and fondness on his face.

"Alright, alright. But only for a little bit." And just like that, you were piggybacking the infamous Negan Smith through the Sanctuary, much to the amusement and confusion of the Saviors.

Suddenly, you're always around. If Negan's in his office, you're perched on the edge of his desk, humming softly. If he's in the courtyard overseeing training, you're right there, offering water and unsolicited advice.

You've perfected the art of the pleading gaze. Wide eyes, a slightly trembling lip – it's a weapon of mass persuasion, and Negan, despite his best efforts, is defenseless against it.

Compliments, declarations of love, random observations – you're a non-stop fountain of affection, showering him with words he never knew he craved. "Negan, you have the prettiest eyes," you say once while he's mid-sentence, throwing him completely off track.

Small tokens of your affection start appearing – a carefully chosen flower, a cleaned and polished Lucille (his beloved baseball bat), a drawing of you both holding hands amidst a field of walkers (slightly morbid, but undeniably sweet)

Negan is nothing if not observant. He notices the change immediately, but initially chalks it up to stress or a momentary lapse in your usually independent nature.

He teases you relentlessly. "Well, well, well, look who's suddenly clingy. What's gotten into you, darlin'?" he'll ask, a smirk playing on his lips.

He tries to maintain his tough-guy persona, but a genuine smile keeps threatening to break through. He's not used to this level of unabashed affection, and frankly, he doesn't hate it.

He confides in Lucille. "She's gone soft on me, Lucille. What am I gonna do with a clingy [Reader's Name]?". Of course, Lucille has no response.

One evening, after a particularly brutal supply run, Negan returns to his quarters exhausted and emotionally drained. You're waiting for him, a warm bath drawn and a comforting meal prepared.

As he sinks into the tub, you kneel beside him, gently washing his hair and murmuring soothing words. The vulnerability in his eyes is palpable.

He finally asks, his voice rough, "Why the sudden…clinginess?"

You explain, your voice soft, "I just… I realized how fragile life is, Negan. We've lost so many. I just want to be close to you, to show you how much I love you, while we still can."

The admission hits him hard. The apocalypse has hardened him, forced him to build walls around his heart. But your love is a persistent force, chipping away at those defenses.

Negan doesn't magically transform into a cuddle bunny overnight. But he starts to reciprocate. He hugs you tighter, holds your hand longer, and whispers words of affection in return.

He finds himself seeking out your presence, missing you when you're not around. The Sanctuary, once a symbol of his power, now feels empty without you by his side.

He learns to appreciate the small gestures, the quiet moments of connection amidst the chaos. Your clinginess becomes a source of comfort, a reminder of the love that still exists in this broken world.

During a stressful meeting with the saviors, he felt a wave of anxiety washing over him. You, sensing his distress, subtly reached for his hand under the table, intertwining your fingers with his. The simple gesture grounded him, reminding him that he wasn't alone. In that moment, he realized that your clinginess wasn't just about needing attention, it was about offering unwavering support.

Negan starts carrying you around the Sanctuary more often, especially when you're tired or injured. The Saviors are initially shocked, but they quickly learn not to question their leader's actions.

He lets you decorate his office with your drawings and trinkets. It's a far cry from the stark, imposing space it once was, but he secretly loves the personal touch.

He starts calling you "clingy-pants" as a term of endearment. Only he's allowed to use it, of course.

Nightly cuddles become a non-negotiable. Negan, the imposing leader of the Sanctuary, snuggled up with you under the covers, whispering sweet nothings until you both drift off to sleep.

He even starts joining in on your spontaneous declarations of love, albeit in his own Negan-esque way. "Alright, alright, I love you too, you crazy woman. Now shut up and let me sleep.

Your clinginess, initially a surprising quirk, becomes an integral part of your relationship. It's a symbol of your unwavering love, your vulnerability, and your need for connection in a world that has become increasingly isolating.

Negan, in turn, learns to embrace his own softer side, to let down his guard and allow himself to be loved unconditionally.

Together, you navigate the apocalypse, your bond strengthened by the very thing that initially surprised and confused him, thus proving that even in the darkest of times, love, in all its clingy, fluffy glory, can thrive.

One day, while you're both overlooking the Sanctuary, you lean your head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly. "Thank you, Negan," you murmur.

He wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer. "For what, darlin'?"

"For letting me be clingy."

He chuckles, kissing the top of your head. "Don't think I had much of a choice, clingy-pants. But you're welcome."

And as the sun sets over the walker-infested landscape, you both know that your love, as unconventional and clingy as it may be, is a beacon of hope in a world desperately in need of it.

(rick grimes)

It started subtly, almost imperceptibly. A lingering touch, an extra squeeze of the hand, a gaze held just a moment longer. You, usually independent and self-sufficient in the harsh world you both navigated, found yourself drawn to Rick like a moth to a flickering flame. The need to be near him, to feel his presence, had intensified, washing over you in waves of unexpected affection.

It wasn't that you weren't always affectionate. You and Rick had built a strong, loving relationship amidst the chaos, cherishing the quiet moments and finding solace in each other's arms. But this was different. This was an all-consuming desire to be physically close, to hear his voice, to bask in his attention.

You weren't sure what prompted this sudden surge of clinginess. Maybe it was the constant stress of survival, the ever-present threat of walkers and hostile groups, or the lingering trauma of the past. Perhaps it was simply the comfort and security you found in Rick's unwavering strength and love, a haven you desperately craved in a world gone mad.

Whatever the reason, you couldn't deny the overwhelming urge to be near him, to feel his strong arms around you, to know that he was there, always.

The first sign of your increased need for affection was the constant "accidental" brushes. A graze of your hand against his as you walked side-by-side, a brush of your shoulder against his as you navigated a crowded room, a playful nudge as you sat together by the campfire.

You found excuses to be in his vicinity, offering to help with tasks you knew he could easily handle himself, just to spend a few extra minutes by his side. "Need help cleaning your gun, Rick?" you'd ask, even though you knew he was meticulous about its upkeep. "Mind if I watch you sharpen your knife?" you'd offer, your eyes fixed on his strong, capable hands.

During meetings or group discussions, you'd find yourself gravitating towards him, subtly leaning against his arm or resting your hand on his thigh. You didn't say anything, but the silent contact spoke volumes. You needed his reassurance, his grounding presence in the midst of the chaos.

Evenings became a haven of cuddles and quiet intimacy. You'd curl up on the couch beside him, burying your face in his neck, inhaling his familiar scent of leather, sweat, and something uniquely Rick. You'd pepper his jaw with soft kisses, tracing the lines of his rugged face with your fingertips.

Rick, a man of few words and stoic demeanor, initially responded to your clinginess with a mixture of surprise and endearing awkwardness. He wasn't used to such overt displays of affection, especially from you, who often projected an image of independence and resilience.

At first, he'd stiffen slightly when you leaned against him or reached for his hand, a subtle reaction that betrayed his surprise. But the stiffness would quickly melt away as he looked into your eyes, seeing the vulnerability and affection reflected there.

He'd offer a small, shy smile, a rare expression that always made your heart flutter. He'd squeeze your hand in return, his calloused fingers warm and reassuring. He'd adjust his posture to accommodate your presence, making sure you were comfortable and secure by his side.

He might not always verbalize his affection, but his actions spoke volumes. He'd pull you closer, wrap his arm around you, or rest his chin on your head, a silent promise of protection and love.

After a few days of your increased clinginess, Rick finally broached the subject, his brow furrowed with concern. "You okay, (Your Name)?" he asked one evening as you sat together on the porch, watching the sunset.

"Yeah, why?" you replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but your voice wavered slightly.

"You've just been... extra close lately," he said, his eyes searching yours. "Not that I mind," he quickly added, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "But I just want to make sure everything's alright."

You hesitated, unsure how to explain the sudden surge of neediness that had washed over you. "I don't know," you admitted, finally. "I guess I just... need you close right now."

Rick nodded understandingly, his gaze softening. "Anything you want to talk about?" he offered, his voice gentle.

You decided to be honest with him, to explain the overwhelming emotions that had been swirling inside you. You confessed your fears, your insecurities, and your desperate need for his comfort and reassurance.

You told him about the nightmares that still haunted you, the memories of loss and violence that lingered in the back of your mind. You explained how his presence grounded you, how his love gave you strength, how his unwavering belief in you made you feel safe in a world that was anything but.

Rick listened patiently, his eyes never leaving yours. He didn't interrupt or offer platitudes. He simply listened, absorbing your words with a deep understanding that only someone who had experienced similar trauma could possess.

When you finished speaking, Rick pulled you into a tight embrace, his strong arms enveloping you in warmth and security. He held you close, his chin resting on your head, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions.

"I understand," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I know what it's like to feel lost and scared. But you're not alone, (Your Name). You've got me. Always."

He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes filled with unwavering love and devotion. "You don't have to explain yourself," he said. "You don't have to apologize for needing me. I'm here for you, always. However you need me."

He kissed you deeply, a kiss that conveyed all the love, comfort, and reassurance you desperately craved. It was a kiss that promised protection, support, and unwavering commitment, a kiss that sealed the bond between you two.

From that moment on, Rick embraced your clinginess with open arms. He understood that it was a sign of vulnerability, a way for you to express your fears and insecurities in a world that offered little comfort.

He made a conscious effort to be even more present in your life, to offer extra affection and reassurance whenever you needed it. He'd seek you out for a quick hug, a stolen kiss, or a quiet moment of connection.

He'd hold your hand a little tighter, pull you a little closer, and whisper words of encouragement in your ear. He'd remind you of your strength, your resilience, and your unwavering spirit.

He created a safe space for you to be vulnerable, to express your emotions without judgment, and to find comfort in his unwavering love.

Your newfound clinginess, initially a source of confusion and uncertainty, ultimately deepened your connection with Rick. It allowed you to be more vulnerable, to express your needs more openly, and to receive his love and support in a way you hadn't before.

It strengthened your bond, forging a deeper understanding and appreciation for each other's strengths and weaknesses. It reminded you that even in the midst of chaos and devastation, love, affection, and human connection could thrive.

You learned that it was okay to need him, to lean on him, and to find comfort in his presence. And Rick learned that your clinginess wasn't a sign of weakness, but a testament to the depth of your love and trust in him.

Together, you navigated the harsh realities of your world, finding solace in each other's arms, and proving that even in the darkest of times, love could be a beacon of hope, a source of strength, and a reason to keep fighting. Your love story became a testament to the power of human connection, a reminder that even in the apocalypse, love could conquer all.

(daryl dixon)

The apocalypse had changed everyone. It stripped away the superficial, forcing people to confront their true selves. For Daryl, it had chipped away at the hard exterior, revealing a man of fierce loyalty and surprising tenderness, especially when it came to you. Your relationship had been forged in the fires of survival, built on shared hardship, mutual respect, and a love that ran deeper than any walker-infested ditch.

Usually, you were independent, capable, a survivor in your own right. You held your own on supply runs, stood guard without complaint, and offered a steady hand to anyone who needed it. Daryl admired that about you. He loved your strength, your resilience, the way you could patch up a wound and crack a joke in the same breath.

That's why this sudden change was so…unexpected

Daryl was already up, stoking the fire in the hearth. As always, his movements were economical, efficient, honed by years of living rough. You watched him from the bed, a soft smile playing on your lips. The urge hit you like a tidal wave.

Instead of getting dressed, you launched yourself at him from behind, wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your face in the worn leather of his vest.

Daryl stiffened momentarily, his hand instinctively reaching for the knife at his hip. Then, he relaxed, recognizing your scent, your touch.

"Mornin'," he grumbled, his voice rough around the edges. He didn't pull away, though. He just leaned back slightly, accommodating your weight.

You nuzzled closer, inhaling the familiar scent of smoke, leather, and something uniquely Daryl. "Morning," you mumbled, your voice muffled by his vest. You tightened your grip. You didn't want to let go. Ever.

He remained silent for a long moment, probably trying to figure out what was going on. Finally, he said, "Somethin' wrong?"

"Nope," you replied, popping the 'p'. "Just...like being close to you."

You could practically feel the confusion radiating off him. He wasn't used to this level of open affection, at least not from you. He was more accustomed to your casual touches, the fleeting smiles, the unspoken understandings. This was new territory.

Daryl chuckled softly. "Alright," he said, finally relaxing into you. He knew better than to question it too much. If you wanted to cuddle, he wasn't going to argue.

Wherever Daryl went, you followed. He went to check the perimeter? You were right behind him, humming softly and swinging your arms. He went to clean his crossbow? You sat next to him, offering him rags and occasionally getting in the way.

Normally, Daryl appreciated your independence and giving each other space. Now? You were like a shadow, a very affectionate, slightly distracting shadow.

At first, he tried to subtly discourage you. A raised eyebrow here, a gentle nudge there. But you were persistent, your need for closeness seemingly unquenchable.

Finally, while he was trying to sharpen an arrow, you leaned against his shoulder, making it nearly impossible for him to concentrate.

"You're gonna poke your eye out," he muttered, trying to adjust his position without dislodging you.

"Mmm," you hummed, snuggling closer. "Worth it."

Daryl sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He gave up and let you be. He figured he could sharpen arrows later. Right now, he had a clingy girlfriend to contend with.

During lunch, which consisted of the usual meager rations, you reached across the table and took Daryl's hand. You laced your fingers together, your palm pressed against his calloused one.

Daryl glanced down at your hands, then back up at you, a question in his eyes. You just smiled.

He didn't pull away. Instead, he squeezed your hand gently, his thumb rubbing small circles on your skin. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes.

Carol, sitting across from you, raised an eyebrow and smirked. You just grinned back, unrepentant. Daryl, oblivious to the silent exchange, just kept eating, his hand still intertwined with yours.

As night fell, and everyone settled down for sleep, you snuggled up to Daryl in your shared bedroll. You pressed your body against his, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck.

Daryl was tense at first, unused to this level of physical intimacy. He was a man of action, not affection. But as you relaxed against him, your breathing evening out, he began to soften.

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. He rested his chin on your head, inhaling the scent of your hair. Underneath the layers of dirt and grime, it still smelled faintly of wildflowers.

"You okay?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Perfect," you murmured, snuggling even closer. "Just...hold me."

Daryl didn't say anything. He just held you. He held you tight, his body a shield against the darkness, against the horrors of the world outside. He held you until you fell asleep, and he held you even after that.

Daryl's Internal Monologue (Probably):

What in the hell is goin' on with her?

She ain't usually this...touchy.

Is she sick? Hurt? Did somethin' happen?

Nah, she seems fine. Just...clingy.

Well, I ain't gonna complain. Not really.

Feels kinda nice, actually.

Just hope she ain't expectin' me to start braidn' her hair or somethin'.

Maybe I should ask her what's up. But then again, maybe I shouldn't.

If she wants to cuddle, I'll cuddle.

She's my girl. Gotta take care of her.

Even if she is bein' a little weird.

The truth was, you were just feeling vulnerable. The apocalypse had a way of doing that to a person. You needed the reassurance of Daryl's presence, the comfort of his touch. You needed to know that he was there, that he wasn't going anywhere.

After a day of constant clinging, you finally felt a sense of peace. You had gotten what you needed. You had soaked up Daryl's strength, his love, his unwavering support.

The next day, you were back to your old self, independent and capable. But something had changed. You were more affectionate, more open with your feelings. You held Daryl's hand a little longer, smiled at him a little brighter, and told him you loved him a little more often.

Daryl, in his own quiet way, reciprocated. He held your gaze a little longer, touched your arm a little more frequently, and even offered a rare, genuine smile.

He may not have understood your sudden need for affection, but he accepted it. He embraced it. Because that's what you did when you loved someone. You took them as they were, clingy or not, and you held them close.

And sometimes, in the quiet moments, when the world outside was silent, Daryl would pull you close and hold you tight, just because. He didn't need a reason. He just needed you.

And that, in the end, was all that mattered. In a world filled with death and destruction, you had found love, and love, in all its clingy, affectionate glory, was worth fighting for.

Dwight had seen a lot of strange things since the world went to hell, but this new development was definitely up there. He walked into their shared room, the one they managed to carve out for themselves in the Sanctuary, and found you sprawled across their bed, a soft blanket pulled halfway up your body. Usually, you were off helping with maintenance or scavenging runs, always busy, always independent. Today, however, you were radiating a level of…neediness that was new, and frankly, adorable. You looked up at him, a soft pout gracing your lips. "Dwight," you whined, the sound making his heart do a little flip. "Come cuddle."

He raised a scarred eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Cuddle? You? Since when are you a cuddle bug?" He teased gently, already moving closer, drawn in by the sheer magnetism of your suddenly affectionate aura. He knew you loved him, of course, but you weren’t one for grand displays of affection. This was…different. As he sat on the edge of the bed, you immediately latched onto him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his side. "Just…need you," you mumbled into his leather jacket. Dwight chuckled, a warm, genuine sound that he usually reserved just for you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

He ran a hand through your hair, enjoying the feeling of its softness against his calloused fingers. "Alright, alright," he murmured. "I'm here. Tell me what's going on." You just snuggled deeper, shaking your head. "Nothing. Just…want you close." He knew better than to push. Instead, he leaned back against the headboard, pulling you with him so you were nestled comfortably against his chest. He’d spent so long pushing people away, building walls, that this vulnerability, this open display of affection from you, felt like a privilege. He kissed the top of your head, breathing in the familiar scent of you – a mix of soap, sunshine, and something uniquely you. "Okay," he said softly, content to just hold you. "We can do that. We can stay like this as long as you want." And he meant it. He'd face walkers, Negan, even Eugene's endless ramblings, just to keep this feeling, this quiet contentment, alive. He'd be your rock, your shield, and, apparently, your personal cuddle buddy, all rolled into one. He was yours, always, and right now, being exactly what you needed was all that mattered. He felt you relax against him, your breathing evening out, and he knew you were drifting off to sleep. He smiled, a small, tender expression that transformed his hardened features. This was love, he realized, in its purest, most comforting form. And he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

[hailruth]

minimizing shabbat screen time

here's a few tips for those just getting into observing shabbat/shabbos and wanting to step away from their screens. this is just what worked for me, so it's not universal and very much a personal process that might help others. also, while these tips are helpful, they will not work if you don't want to do this. self-discipline will always be what ultimately gets you there.

it's okay to fail when trying to meet your goals. this is a necessary part of any process. screens and algorithms have been built to be addicting, so you have to wean yourself off of them. time, failure, and repetition are all steps towards your end goal.

so, as we've established, going "cold turkey" is not happening! start it slowly by shaving just an hour or a half of screen time off every couple shabbats (or in whatever frequency works best for you, but keep it gradual). tracking your screen time on your device can help you monitor this.

if you see yourself using your phone more than what you've allowed yourself, remember progress is not linear. expecting zero deviation from a perfect negative decline will only set yourself up for failure. i suggest pausing wherever you are and sitting with that allowed screen time until it becomes easy before subtracting any more allotted time.

social media is very much the heart of addiction to electronics, so your use of it is what you'll probably want to tackle first. taking it in steps is always easy, so start with stepping away from the specific apps that you're spending most of your time on. try stepping away from the app you use the most and only allow yourself to use the others (that you presumedly don't like as much). progress to the second most used app, then third, etc.

the way i ripped myself away from specific apps, which is the hardest part, is creating distance between myself and it. i know phones have the option to set limits on certain apps each day, but all you have to do is type in the passcode you set to bypass it. first, i turned off notifications. i have adhd, so the notifications are what reminded me that the app exists and that i can use it. it helped to curb the times i checked the app purely because of the notification and not because of an internal thought. then, i removed it from my home screen. searching for and opening the app is often muscle memory, so it not being in the same place you always scroll to for it will take you out of "autopilot." you have to physically look for it in your app library, which gives you a few seconds to think about why you removed it in the first place. you can also later delete the app for the day, which adds more to your "journey" in re-accessing the content it provides.

once you've been able to get away from the apps you use the most, it's time to transition to putting the whole device away. the process of getting away from social media for shabbat is the hardest and will take the most time (imo). so let it become routine and congratulate yourself for getting so far before the next step!

as an extension of adding "distance," put your phone away. power it off, of course. put it into a room you're barely in or a corner you never look at. not just out in the open, inside of a drawer. wrap it in something (paper, a shawl, a sock). put it in a box that's in a box that's in a box. stack a bunch of books on it. the longer it takes for you to get it back out, the more time there is to consider why you want it to stay away and for your self-control to kick in. the appeal of the phone is all about instant gratification, but it's not so instant when you're spending five minutes taking off the twenty pairs of socks you've layered it in.

that's about it for my tips, other than the (obvious) fact that you'll want to be doing something that replaces whatever you're getting from the screen. i can't tell you what will work for you, only you know yourself and what will suffice, but i'll share my thoughts. watch a lot of content about crocheting/cooking/whatever? do those things instead of watching someone else do them. go to your local library for anything that'll need instructions or print them out beforehand, there's nothing you absolutely need the internet for to learn. go outside while your phone stays inside (more distance!). do all the stuff you've been wanting to do but have no time for, i promise the phone is taking more of that than you'd think. everyone tells you to read, and that's what i do, so the suggestion isn't revolutionary. but why not read about judaism or shabbat in particular? you'll be reminding yourself even more as to why you're not picking up your phone.

that's all i can think of for now, i hope these help. i know it's not a lot but this is exactly what i did, and it worked. please share your own tips or ideas for fun shabbat activities if you have any.

[macaiv]

Source: (Youtube) Ayao Komatsu, Esteban Ocon, Ollie Bearman

Transcript:

Ayao Komatsu on Esteban Ocon and Oliver Bearman

Yeah, I think our observation is great. You know we did a TPC testing in Jerez in the second week of January and then both guys are getting on pretty well as well.

Now what we expect from them. So from Esteban Ocon. He's already got the proven track record. He's a race winner. He had the podium finishes. Again, you only look back to last year at Brazil, which was negative for us because Alpine are direct competitors, scored double podium. But it shows that how much of a talent he is. He came through that very difficult race in second. So again, I expect him to bring that determination and then also his experience in how to win the race, how to finish on the podium which we haven't done as a team.

And then from Oliver Bearman. Of course he's an amazing young talent and he's not a stranger to us, we've been working with him since the end of 2023. He understands the team. He understands what is required of him. And then he just has so much potential. So again, very looking forward to grow together.

I think this pairing of experience, but Esteban is still young, 27 and then Ollie in 19, I think that combination is very exciting.

Esteban Ocon on Oliver Bearman

Ollie is a great young driver. He's one of the guys that I've been looking to since he was in Formula 2. Probably the first time that I've seen him was that pole lap he did in Baku a couple of years ago with the steering wheel completely bent. I remember everyone thought that session was over for him and he still managed to do the pole. I think everyone realized how quick he was from that session. And then when he joined F1, how quickly he adapted to the whole environment and how quick he was to basically score points as well. He is gonna be very fast for sure the whole year and that I hope that together we can take the team to the next step.

Oliver Bearman on Esteban Ocon

Well first of all, it's nice that he's tall so we're both the same height and that makes life a bit easier for the mechanics. And for us as well, we can share our suits and stuff. Which is great but no of course he has a lot of experience in F1, he's been in F1 for a very, very long time now, almost 10 years. So yeah, a lot of experience that I can you know take from him. He's been to all the circuits already which you know some of them I haven't been to yet. So yeah, just looking to take his experience and and hopefully we can push the team forward together.

[nowimjustastranger]

You've mentioned that there's times STCMO! Ford has had to relocate a Stanley to a different dimension and left that Stan's Stanford behind all alone to contemplate his mistakes and where he went wrong to lose his brother. And that makes me wonder how those Stanfords reacted. I'm sure some didn't care, but I'm even more sure a lot of them grew scared and upset, especially if all they were given was a cryptic note about Stanley's disappearance. Something like "Your brother is no longer a part of this world" or "You'll never see him again" would probably be enough for some Fords to assume he's been murdered. But Ford's still a genius, and I think some others would grow skeptical. And of course there's ones who would watch Stan get taken and relocated right in front of their faces. We've seen examples of Fords who only grew desperate for a second chance the moment they realized they were truly going to lose their brother forever, but what about the ones who already lost him?

So with that, my question: has our Ford ever run into another Stanford in the multiverse who was so set on getting his Stanley back he learned how to travel through dimensions and was now on the hunt for his twin? I really wanna know how Ford would react to that. If that Stanford has similar tracking technology or was just going with his gut intuition, if he felt angry upon seeing the Ford that took his brother or if he now understood why that happened and wanted to atone. I gotta know!!

This ask that I got is similar to yours!

Watchdog Ford would be impressed by the Ford's determination but mostly just annoyed that the Ford was dead set on undoing all of his work. If a Stan has settled in to their new dimension with their new and improved brother, Watchdog Ford would be extremely reluctant to uproot the Stan. Ford would have to make one hell of a case for Watchdog Ford to even consider letting Ford see his brother again, let alone have him back.

If Ford does manage to convince Watchdog Ford to bring him to his brother, Watchdog Ford would observe their reunion from a short distance away. Depending on how long the Stan had been in the new dimension, Stan might be unwilling to leave his current Ford for the brother that had failed one of Watchdog Ford's tests. Still, maybe Stan wants to give his brother a chance on his terms; meaning that Ford would stay in the dimension with Stan and the other Ford.

Watchdog Ford would stick around until Stan figured out what he wanted and announced his decision.

[1000sunnygo]

One Piece Academy chapter 40: Cora san part 2 (Quick translation)

source | part 1 | index

Sanji: Huh..? Aren't you...?

Luffy: Who?

Nami: Luffy! We've just seen this guy in a photo a while ago!

He's Corazon!!

Cora: Guh..!

*tap tap*

Nami: Ah, he's running!

*wham*

Nami: Ah, he fell ;;

Cora: Law, what's the meaning of this? How did this place get busted?!

Law: I'm in a state of shock myself... I swear I wasn't being tailed by anyone.

You guys, how did you...?

Robin: Underestimated our skill of gaining intel, haven't you?

Sanji: You did a good job hiding your tracks, but...

[flashback]

Luffy: Traffy... he's totally gone, huh.

Bart: Ah, Luffy senpai! It's been a while beh!

Luffy: Oh? Isn't that Romeo!

Do y'all know Traffy's place?

Bart: Naa I don't.. Gambia, do you?

Gambia: I dunno. Lemme ask my granma at home.

Gambia: Helloo, granma! Do you know where Trafalgar Law lives?.. Hmm, hmm... oh?

*pulls up a map*

Gambia: She says he lives here! Even gave us details on how to enter!

Bart: Granma really has all the wisdom beh~!

Luffy: COOL!! Thanks!!

Cora: THIS IS WAYY BEYOND THE REALM OF WISDOM THOUGH!!

Usopp: She also said, "if you're worried about the doorknob's prickly static shock, just touch the wall with your palm first."

Law: So she shared some real wisdom too? That damned Bartolomeo!

Zoro: A man believed to be missing is here, 'hiding' so nobody can find him - so it seems.

Corazon:...!

Since I got busted already, I guess there's no going back.

*cracks knuckles*

I'll make sure to make you feel at home.

Coby: Woah!

Law: DON'T START A RICEBALL PARTY!!

Luffy: What flavor is that one, Corao?

Cora: That's umeboshi! Law hates it.

Law: Cora san... ;

Cora: It's okay, Law..

Cora: After all, the only visitors we get in this home far from the town are Bepo and team. And that's just Law's pals.

Law: They're... not exactly pals...

Cora: That said, it's not like someone is expected to live here. The entrance is far down some secret underground passage. We buy our groceries from the neighboring Swallow city.

*clang*

Nami: Why all these secrecy?

Coby: Where are you going?

Cora: Follow me! I'll show you.

Luffy: Traffy's place seems fun!

Law: Make sure not to ravage it.

Cora: This is.. The Doflamingo countermeasure Headquarters.

Nami: The Doflamingo countermeasure Headquarters?

Luffy: That's a lot of Mingo!

Cora: You get the gist of a secret opposing faction, don't you?

In short, we call it "Vs Doff.." "Quarters.." well, something.

And not just Doflamingo, we collect information about the Family executives.. Even about the Onigashima middle school.

I investigate here everyday.. *tapping some keys*

And think of countermeasures.

<bzzzzz>

Coby: YOU JUST SHUT IT DOWN!

Cora: Crap, I blew it up again...

Nami: Cora chan, might you be a bit clumsy?

Cora: I have always been a clutz. It doesn't get better.

Vivi: We know that Doflamingo is a bad guy who needs to be stopped.. But do you, as his brother, have any specific reason for your action?

Cora: As his younger brother, my goal is...to prevent my older brother Doffy from falling into the dark world.

Brook: Dark..

Chopper:... World?

Cora: Do you know what they call Doffy in the town?

Coby : I'm pretty sure it's Joker, "The Town's Charisma"....

Cora: He's a regular hot topic among young admirers, my brother's got that talent in him. But..

He's being approached by the people from the dark world - meaning the Bad adults, as they observed those qualities.

To be honest, brother does have the predisposition and ideas for 'evil.' He's already a bad guy, you can't call him good even as a flattery.

Zoro: Will he remain as the Town's Charisma, or become a Charismatic Evil?

If it's the latter, that'd be way more serious that being just a bad, flawed person...

CONTINUES IN REBLOG ⬇️

[theheartmold]

The Wigmaker Job

Notes and Thoughts - Part 4

pt1 | pt2 | pt3 | pt4 | pt5 | pt6 | pt7 (FINAL)

DISCLAIMER: These posts I'm doing are my own analyses and are done with the intentional eye to examine the relationship between Lucanis and Illario. I try to source all my assertions from what the text is giving me. This is not Lucanis critical nor should it be taken as such.

Despite his earlier jab, Lucanis had to admit, if only to himself, that his cousin looked at home among the local gentry. Illario winked at strangers as if they'd known each other for years, and the Vints were either too drunk or thought him too attractive to question his familiarity.

Starting off strong this time! As Lucanis circles from the roof, we get a chance to see Illario shine and Lucanis's perspective of it. This is actually one of the kinder remarks we've received so far irt: Illario's abilities. And we get more!

We watch as Illario takes the guard-captain's drink and downs it and somehow charms his way into getting her attention. This next passage actually expands on how Lucanis feels about Illario's work.

Lucanis groaned—not only at the line, but that it worked. Even from his position, he could see Camille was hooked. He shouldn't be surprised. This was old hat for Illario. But it was always amazing to see what one man's smile could accomplish.

This is one of my favorite passages re: examining their dynamic. It's some of the ostensibly kinder narrative we see from Lucanis towards Illario and it is exclusively aimed at praising his skills with seduction.

Illario goes on to deftly remove the key ring from the captain and give get it on track towards Lucanis via a waiter's tray. In his hurry to swipe the keys, Lucanis thinks as to why Illario couldn't have just held onto them? ← Fair enough I suppose he could've before extricating himself to join you.

One could argue that he's keeping the captain at bay and that the longer the keys are on his person the more risky it is, but that's me writing a defense not entirely based in the text so let's keep moving.

Lucanis pulls off some fun acrobatics and gets inside with the keys. I'm going to be brushing over details that aren't directly about the Lucanis/Illario relationship or that aren't particularly relevant to Lucanis's characterization in that context. Everyone cool with that? Cool, let's go.

Lucanis thought about securing the entrance—leaving it unlocked could raise suspicion—but decided not to in case Illario decided to work tonight. He could already hear his cousin's honeyed excuses—(But seducing a beautiful woman is work!) He snorted and pushed further inside.

All I wrote down in my notes here is "And yet dismissive? He got you the keys!" so that's all I'll say on that. I'm not sure how Lucanis ever feels at any given time about Illario's skills… he got you inside and is distracting the guard-captain. This does imply that Lucanis does not see that as 'work'—only the killing seems to count as work to him.

I'm also very obsessed with Lucanis's observations about the estate itself. He remarks on how similar it is to a Chantry(!) and that the opulence must have been costly in terms of coin and slave labor. He considers the ones that were blinded by gilding or broken backs from working with the stone.

"There was patriotism and there was obsession. Neither was worth it." ← really obsessed with this. It just isn't the sort of thought process that I predict a Crow is supposed to have whilst working through a job. (It also makes me wonder what he thinks of Teia's patriotism re: the Crows in Veilguard?)

"He had a rule when hunting Venatori. Follow the headache." ← Again I would have liked to have seen more of his sensitivity in Veilguard; someone pointed out that Spite took precedence over Lucanis's abilities and while understandable… rah.

That stupid fucking Crow rhyme. Goddammit. Okay brushing past the fight scene—all I'll say here is I actually do really enjoy the use of the garrote. It's a really impressive scene that highlights Lucanis's skills in quickly eliminating enemies while outnumbered, and I also have to give authorial credit because fight scenes are hard to write and keep entertaining.

"Eight marks the final kill. Do you still recite that old nursery rhyme? The one Caterina made us memorize during training?" ← Insane question in this moment Illario. Insane. Did she beat that nursery rhyme into you too? Also the Crows have nursery rhymes?! I would love to hear more about who is teaching this to fledglings.

"What can I say? It's catchy." / "That's a word for it." ← I did have a note where I circled Illario's dialogue here and wrote "resentful?" but I'm not sure I stand by that coming across in the text now. I think it's just more teasingly morbid than anything lol

Lucanis narrowed his eyes. "Your tunic's rumpled." Illario flashed a sheepish grin. "You weren't the only one tussling with guards." "Tussling, huh?" Lucanis shook his head. "That's a word for it."

Really interesting here to me that Lucanis, despite having previously having made plenty of mental potshots about his abilities, doesn't seem to think too much about Illario getting comfortable with the captain. Maybe because he thinks it's expected of Illario?

Illario wrinkling his nose and asking to clean up the bodies <3 ooohhh pookie who hates getting messy ily sooo much. cutie patootie. okay sorry back on track.

"Leave it." "What? Out in the open?" "You bring a mop?" Illario glowered at him. "No, but you've half an armory stored in that coat. I thought maybe—"

I really want to know what Illario thought Lucanis could've possibly brought for the express purpose of cleaning up bodies. IN Lucanis's defense I too would've made a snarky remark about a mop.

Oop! Elven woman walks in on them. I'm gonna pause it there because the next interactions between them are really important and will take up so much more space and time to go over.

Quotes are either paraphrased or taken directly from The Wigmaker Job, written by Courtney Woods.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Okay, I'm curious : what's your stance on Leona's and Idia's theory, as mentioned in the recent Book 7 update?

[You can read my full thoughts on the book 7 part 12 Cater and Deuce update here! ]

I'm assuming you're referring to them discussing the possibility of Trey and Cater "using" Riddle for their own nefarious gain? If I recall correctly, it's Leona's theory and Idia mainly reacts to it or comments. To review (for those who may not understand what I'm talking about): in the recent book 7 update, Leona proposes the idea that Trey and Cater propped up Riddle as a successor to the previous Heartslabyul dorm leader. The previous dorm leader was not only lax with enforcing the rules, but essentially made Heartslabyul a pretty lawless land with graffiti on the walls and the garden a mess. However, according to Leona's theory, Trey and Cater didn't boost Riddle up out of the goodness of their hearts or out of concern for their dorm being run into the ground. No, Leona proposes that they did it so that they could gain power themselves. After Riddle is in power, Trey and Cater would become his right-hand men and advisors, thus puppeteering Riddle and manipulating him to act in ways that benefit them. In this manner, Trey and Cater can create the Heartslabyul that they desire while Riddle is just the figurehead. In other words... Leona's saying Trey and Cater spearheaded the revolution to overthrow the previous dorm leader in order to benefit themselves. It's something that's not all too uncommon for unpopular political regimes. (Have to say though, very appropriate for Leona, the literal prince and a rebel of the savanna, to bring this concept up.)

adsjbbiaslyiyovfviea I don't... really have particular thoughts on this theory, because the update basically debunks it by the end of Cater's dream. After waking, Cater claims that he's actually pretty satisfied with how Heartslabyul is irl (so he has no reason to try and puppeteer Riddle). Leona even states that he guesses this theory was wrong--and he has a track record of being intelligent and perceptive, so I'm choosing to believe him when he says he's wrong. Cater then follows up with a jab at how Leona is the type to actually incite a revolution (throwback to book 2), not himself, which I'm going to take as further confirmation that the theory wasn't right.

Beyond what the characters actually say in Cater's dream, I don't think it makes sense for Trey and Cater to be the masterminds that Leona speculated they are, and nor is Riddle some mere figurehead. Like... yes, Cater has been shown to be manipulative, but he doesn't act in ways that are more malicious than tricking underclassmen to do things for him. He also doesn't strike me as someone seeking great power or control. Trey also has a devious side, but again he doesn't strike me as someone that wants to be in charge and he is typically presented genuinely supporting others. He is someone who has been deceived by others (ie Jade) too; do we really think he's as crafty as Leona is saying he may be??? Finally, there's Riddle. Come on, now. Do we REALLY believe that Riddle Rosehearts, Mr. Teapot Tyrant, the Rose Red Ruler himself, would let his dorm members boss him around? Yes, his mother exerts an insane level of control over him, but she's his parent and so Riddle will naturally defer to her. At school, Riddle is extremely arrogant and believes that he is the "most correct". I don't think he would allow himself to rule based on the discretion of others--and if you'll recall, Riddle fails to observe the advice Trey gives him, especially in book 1. No, Riddle actively rules and calls the shots around Heartslabyul. To call him a figurehead or someone who rules according to the whispers he gets in his ear is not accurate based on what we've seen of him. The only real wisdom Riddle seems to take from the third years of his dorm is Trey’s general advice to keep a leash on his temper—which is a very reasonable request, but not some mastermind manipulation tactic to control Riddle.

If Cater and Trey support Riddle, that’s their prerogative. I feel it’s definitely more on Trey’s part than Cater’s, as Cater generally tries to stay non-confrontational (he hesitates to fight OB Riddle + gets freshmen to do things for him) whereas Trey, as Riddle’s second-in-command and childhood friend, is more active in supporting his lead. I don’t think there’s malice or ill intent behind this. They’re more enabling than manipulating. Leona just judged them wrong because his own perspective is angled to doubt others’ intentions (he’s an underhanded character himself, so he perhaps expects this behavior of others too).