#i know your conspiracy. you plan on eating me once i agree

[triglycercule]

i feel like such a loser eating instant noodles for dinner (TWO cups because goddamn it its NEVER enough) is this what my trio eats on a night to night basis. now i know DAMN well horror's complaining about eating this shit. killer wouldn't even let his cool down before eating and then acts surprised when dust and horror point out the fact that he can't chew properly anymore (GODDAMN BODY HOLDING HIM BACK ONCE AGAIN.....)

dust my normal king dust my only mildly smart king. you will always be the realest. the only one that considers paying at restaurants (although he probably ditches that idea bc killer's right ditching IS easier! and less money out of his brokeass pocket. alright horror let's steal as much food as we can by shoving it into your skull!)

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Athena

So. I have to deal with the virgin goddesses… By mythos, there really shouldn't ever be children of Artemis, Hestia, or Athena (yes, Athena was a virgin goddess). PJ got past that by making it canon that Annabeth and her siblings were born from cracking open Athena's skull (yes, that's also more or less the canon explanation). They gloss over it real quick but I remember, Rick. I've always remembered and that mental image has haunted me for years...

I can't, in good conscience, ignore the history around Athena's worship (call it an academic restraint) but I REFUSE to do the skull thing. So, since I make the rules here, I'm going with magic adoption. They still get magic powers, they're just more human than demigod. Cool? Cool.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena

Lucifer

The human that popped out of the portal seemed to have enough sense not to attack everyone in the room for a change, but even Lucifer could tell that was more of a strategic choice than for lack of ability...

Their very existence was highly unusual… and quite worrisome. He wasn't even aware Athena could have "children" of her own, but apparently she had been taking in some particularly bright humans to raise and train like her own...

Unbeknownst to him, a surprising amount of human scholars, diplomats, and generals have her to thank for their trade… and that alone should speak to the level of intrigue at play here. 

Was this an accident or Athena's attempt to plant an Olympian spy in the Devildom too…? Either way, he didn't trust them from the get go…

Look, Lucifer isn’t stupid. Athena is a goddess of Wisdom and War and war happens on more than just the battlefield… 

Since they've shown up records have been going missing, official documents keep getting misplaced, and he swears that there's some kind of bug in the student council room...!

It's infuriating watching the MC suck up to Diavolo when he's almost certain that they're running their own agenda behind the scenes! And he can't prove any of it!! They cover their tracks too well!

Lucifer has one of those corkboards covered in newspapers and string in a secret wing of the Castle - 100% dedicated to just tracking the MC's activities…. The longer they're there, the more obsessed he becomes...

He swears between Simeon, Solomon, and MC he feels like a shepherd wondering why the sheep are growling… The Devildom has never been in more danger than it is right now... Send help.

Mammon

To be honest, he kind of thought that they were just going to be Satan 2.0 but that's not really true.

They're more than just a book sponge! Though they do read, like a lot. Let’s just say from one schemer to another… Game recognizes Game.

They come up with plans and ideas soooo fast, it’s insane! Honestly, there are times where he has a new money-making plot and he just brings it to the MC first to run it over. 

Nine times out of ten, not only do they sniff out any problems but they have a solution for him in a matter of minutes! His scheme game has been on point since they’ve shown up!!

They’re also even better tutoring than Satan is, so he’s even managed to get a couple A’s for the first time in his life! Lucifer actually told him he was proud (which he secretly recorded and now uses as a ringtone much to his brother’s regret...)

So yeah, he likes them... buuut that doesn’t keep him from thinking they act a little weird sometimes... 

Mammon: *points to a unused tower close to the RAD building* Over there is the Tower of Sorrow. We use it for storage.

MC: Ah. Interesting… *starts writing in a notebook, muttering* It may need a few minor tweaks but the location is defensible...

Mammon: *stops* Ya say somethin’?

MC: *looks back up* Nope! Say, you’ve been to the Castle a lot haven’t you? Do you know any good ways in?

Mammon: Uhm… Why do ya want to know that…? *starts looking around for Lucifer*

MC: In case of emergencies. I like being prepared. 🙂

Mammon: Look, I don’t know what Lucifer might’a told ya…

MC: I’ll pay you a thousand Grimm for it.

Mammon: Well shit, ya want those maps with or without color?

... Yeeeah, that’s pretty weird… But it’s probably fine. I mean, as long as they keep giving him money, who’s he to complain? 🤷‍♀️

Leviathan

Also thought that they’d be a lot more like Satan but was pleasantly surprised that they were into more than books.

What else did they like exactly? Military strategy!!

It’s been a looong time since he’s been able to talk to someone who’s actually interested in all the battles he’s fought, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, and their curiosity is kind of flattering...! Not a lot of people take his strategic prowess all that seriously anymore...

Plus, they are the BEST partner to have any turn-based strategy game. Hands down. He once got stuck on a level of D-COM for weeks until the MC walked in and mopped the floor with the AI!! They have a serious head for probability and tactics.

The House once made the mistake of letting these two be on the same team during a Hell Game and they absolutely demolished the competition. Mammon didn’t even get a single shot off before half his team was lost to a rigged paint grenade… It took a whole day to clean up… 

However, Levi’s also noticed some odd things about the human… He likes that they’re interested in his past but maybe they’re a little… too interested?

Levi: -and that’s how we defeated the Four Horsemen before they escaped from Purgatory. 

MC: Wow, Levi that’s seriously impressive!! *furiously scribbling on a notebook*

Levi: Well t-thanks… 😅 But, uhm... are you writing that down…?

MC: Hm? Oh no, just doodling. *they lift up the notebook to show a bunch of cute little sketches on the page… and not the magic-based invisible ink all over them…*

Levi: Oh you draw too? Can you do fanart???

MC: Eh, sometimes. But say Levi, can you tell me about your naval ranks again? I’m still really curious… *gets the pen ready again with a smile*

Satan

Oh, it's been a long game of cat-and-mouse between these two… and unfortunately, it’s been pretty addicting too.

He honestly had every intention of tricking the human into making a huge mess do he could bother Lucifer, but at every turn they proved just a hair too clever for him...

He once gave them a cursed book to “lend” to Lucifer, but they saw through it the moment they touched it and lifted the spell before handing it over.

He rigged a podium to spray glitter during one of Lucifer's speeches but the MC disconnected the trigger mic before he even got on stage. It was pretty dang frustrating...

At one point he got so desperate that, just as a test, he tried to trap them in the House's Music Room. Fortunately for them, it only took a few minutes to work out an escape. They even passed by him in the hallway with a wink!

It's confounding! It's infuriating!! 

...and it's so damn sexy... He should be furious but he’s just in awe!!

Add on that they know their art, literature, and multiple different crafts thanks to the tutelage of their adopted mother and that’s it. He’s finished. This boy is in love.

Truthfully though, a part of him is 90% sure that they’re also gathering state secrets… Like, they’re watching Barbs and Diavolo far too close for comfort - but he just can't bring himself to care. 🤷‍♀️

The MC could walk into his room one day and say, "Hey, do you want to help overthrow the monarchy with me?" and he dreads it because deep down he knows that he wouldn’t say no…

Take some notes, kids. Some bad influences get you to drink or do drugs. Others pull you into a centuries long conspiracy to destabilize and topple rival realms from within… But he has fallen for their brain hard. Devil help them all…

Asmodeus 

They’re pretty clever, he’ll give them that, but uh… Are they a little off to anybody else?

Asmo is a charmer by birthright so he has a bit of nose for when someone’s just a liiittttle too nice… Not much of a nose mind you, because he can be thrown off by compliments himself, but enough to think that the MC might be a little too… “kind” for their own good...

First off, who wants to spend that much time with Levi?? They don’t even seem that interested in anime! They just keeping asking him for old war stories…

Then all the sucking up they do to Diavolo and Barbatos? Look, he gets it. Diavolo is a delicious piece of man-hunk and his butler could give him a lesson or two in sweet-talk (and he has), but they seem to be just a little too… nosy.

Of course, Asmo’s suspicions disappear pretty quickly after they start to spoil him with spa nights and beauty secrets they picked up from “casual research” into the subject.

And you know, get a little Demonus in Asmo and start massaging his back? Oh, sweetie he’ll sing like a bird!! … with gossip. Singing with gossip.

Asmo: So I’ve heard that Lucifer has been spending more time at RAD than usual… His whole club is talking about it, they think he’s meeting with some witch!

MC: Hm, is that so? *works on a knot near his shoulder blades* What do you think?

Asmo: Ooh~! Right there, MC! *purrs and lays his head on his arms* Well come on, this is Lucifer we’re talking about! I’m sure he’s just working.

Asmo: Hmm... though come to think of it, I think I heard him asking Barbatos for the spare keys to the Tower of Sorrow…

MC: Oh really? Huh. *works out the knot and gets up* I just remembered that I left some papers with Satan... I’ll be right back.

Asmo: You’re going already??

MC: *waves him off quickly* I’ll be right back, Asmo. *hurries out the door to do totally on-the-up-and-up things… surely*

Beelzebub 

Honestly he doesn't like this one… But not for the reasons you'd expect.

He agrees with everyone else that they seem a little shady, but Solomon and Simeon are too so it's not like that's anything new... 🤷‍♀️

No, no. He dislikes them because they're the person who FINALLY figured out how to keep him from eating all the food in the kitchen!!

Turns out that the trick was to put a teleportation charm on the fridge door that would send all the food away if it’s opened after a certain time of night… 

And where does it go? The Purgatory Hall fridge. And where does the Purgatory Hall food go…? The HoL fridge…

It doesn’t sound so bad until you remember that it means half of their fridge is now Solomon’s leftovers…. 🤢

After they put the same kind of spell on the pantry, it was all over… He couldn't get midnight snacks from the House anymore… Everything was contaminated by Solomon…

The MC is a nice enough person, he doesn’t have a lot of complaints about them, but he wants them to leave. Now. This is inexcusable… He’s so hungry… and he doesn’t want to die by “goulash” or whatever Solomon calls his latest culinary catastrophe… He’s still too young for death… 😓

Belphegor 

In a way, he absolutely could not have asked for a better person to help him get out of that attic.

… In another way, he got one of the worst possible people to try and kill... Like. They saw through his scheme sooo fast…

How was he supposed to know that the human had training in body language and sniffing out lies???

Getting the door open was a piece of cake for them. They knew enough magic to undo the seals and just rummaged around Lucifer's stuff long enough to find the key to the door. He could not have found a more competent individual for a break out, really.

It’s just… well he didn’t expect to go from locked in a room like a prisoner to tied up in enchanted rope, still like a prisoner but now mobile. 😑 

They even used his own hug ruse against him! They caught his wrists when they got close and tied him up before he could shake them off...

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the best look for them either - what with walking Belphegor downstairs to the others like a one-man-prison-caravan but they're as silver-tongued as they are sly so they talked their way out of it beautifully… 

And like hell was he going to trust them after that!! And not even Beel liked them so something had to be up...

Well, you want a detective? Look no farther than Belphie (no seriously, it’s in the canon). He can put things together pretty fast when he puts his mind to it and watching the MC for a while gave him enough proof to work off of...

He always knew that, humans were bad news and the MC just proved it to him all over again. They are bad news, bad bad news and they’re going to-!

Overthrow… Diavolo…? Is that what he is getting from them…? Huh…

Wait a second, MC. You might just have him interested… 😏

[brittledame]

Characters: Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tendou Satori, Yamagata Hayato, Reon Oohira, Semi Eita, Shirabu Kenjirou, Kawanishi Taichi, Goshiki Tsutomu

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags: SFW, gender neutral reader, first date nerves, fluff, ages not specified

Notes: I did this instead of working on the other projects bc I wanted some fluff and here it is!

Ushijima:

On a visit with his grandmother is when he’s told about a local pottery masterclass happening the following weekend, piquing his interest

After some research, he comes to learnt that pottery is the perfect relaxing hobby with the added benefit of fine tuning his dexterity

It didn’t take much else to convince him to go

It was only after talking to a friend that he realises he should probably invite someone to tag along

After his grandmother politely declines, he follows her coy suggestion of inviting someone he likes

He invites you seemingly out of the blue

You’ve known him for a great deal of time and done some activities with him that could be construed as “romantic” and only started dating when Ushijima stated your relationship status to his team nearly a month ago

The look on your face when you found out at the exact moment as his team was priceless

After that, Ushijima left your relationship status on no uncertain terms and practically broadcasted it in his own unique way

This pottery class serves as another way to spend more time with you

After a few minutes of the pottery teacher painstakingly going through the motions to make a basic pot, a whirring noise followed by wet splattering steals your attention away from the clump of clay that is slowly taking form.

You glance over to find Ushijima looking at you, nonplussed at the mess of what was his pot now decorating his mock and forearms, his face is not left unmarked with the few splotches painting his cheek

You gape at him as he blinks as if coming out of a daze and looks down at the poor clump of clay and murmurs a small, “Oh.”

You didn’t mean to laugh, not really, but the utter surprise in his tone topped you over

After a mild scolding from the teacher and a new clump of clay, the two of you were good to go once again

The both of you took longer than most of the class, you with fussing about the tiny bumps you just couldn’t seem to smooth out and Ushijima with his second try

The class seemed to have unlocked his innate mastery of the ancient craft, as the pot looked near store-quality, you note with an ounce of envy

The group takes a break over some snacks and drinks as the pots are loaded into the kiln

Ushijima meticulously picks through the various glazes they had to offer, seeking your assistance after you picked your own out

You suggest the purple as homage to Shiratorizawa, where you two met, and the dark-rich brown, claiming it reminded you of his eyes

He considers you for a moment, a long enough pause for you to think over your words and begin to regret them before he nods decidedly and proudly presents the glazes he picked to the lady

With the class wrapping up, the lady running the class pops up as you two inspect your creations.

“Do you mind if I take a picture to post on our social media?”

Ushijima shakes his head as you answer, “We don’t mind.”

She flashes a wide smile and aims her phone in your direction. “Great! Say ‘pottery’.”

On cue you plaster on smile and brandish the clay creation as the camera clicks.

The lady, who is somehow even more dirtied than Ushijima, inspects the picture.

“You two are so cute together!” She fawns over the two of you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your date together.”

She disappears before either of you can correct her.

You blurt out, "Is this a date?"

A pause. Then a hum, "I suppose it is."

A shared smile, you leave the studio with linked hands.

When you get home, you prowl through the studio’s page and find the picture and break out into gut-clutching laughter at the almost-pained looking smile Ushijima makes, tiny pot perched in his large hands adding a comedic effect.

After you recover, you end up saving it and making it your screen saver.

Tendou:

For all his casual confidence, you’re the one to ask him out and he’s the one to officially declare it the “big” first date

The plan was to go manga/book shopping and eat at the in-store cafe

It sounded like a pretty cut-and-dry standard date but with Tendou anything can turn into an adventure

Ecstatic is an understatement on how excited Tendou was for the weekend

He was nearly berated a dozen times for not paying enough attention to what he was doing and almost caused a small fire at one stage

You didn’t fare much better, either

The pair of you got a great deal of laughter from relaying it to one another in the late night hours before meeting up

Although underneath it all lurked the residual anxiety he tried to fight away, so he reminds you during the call, just to check that you didn’t regret inviting him out

As much as he despised the thought, the dark voice whispering at him that you would stand him up were quickly silenced when you show up with a bright smile and his name on your lips

Tendou reckons it’s the sweetest noise he’s ever heard, right after your laughter that he coaxes out with the little melodies he sings to himself as the two of you make way to the popular bookstore

After arriving, you wonder apart to check out separate sections and end up meeting at again the in-store café with books in hand

Over the chocolate cake slice Tendou brought to share, you take turns to gush over the selected choices spread across the tabletop

“I mean it isn’t that over done.” You argue, popping another forkful of the overly-sweet cake into your mouth.

Tendou throws his hands into the air. “Are you serious? Hero meets bad guy, then they fight a whole bunch, bad guy kills a bunch of people and the hero never kills the guy because he ‘doesn’t want to stoop to their level’,” You don’t mask your laughter at the overexaggerated deep voice Tendou imitates. “It’s not fair to the people that the bad guy goes to hurt later on.”

“Oh, I entirely agree with you there.” You take a moment to wonder how Tendou has eaten nearly half the thing to himself already, you’ve barely been seated for longer than a few minutes. “When done wrong, the whole ‘taking the high ground’ troupe is really tacky.”

Tendou blinks at you like he didn’t expect you to respond. You raise a brow at him as a toothy grin spreads over his face, a slight pink painted across his pale cheeks.

“What?”

“Nothing. I like talking to someone that knows their stuff, is all. Don’t get me wrong, miracle boy is great company, but I can only try to convince him to read more than the ads they run for so long before I go insane.” He chuckles under his breath, words heartfelt enough that a matching heat spreads across your cheeks.

“I enjoy this too.”

A wide grin overtakes his face at your admittance.

“Well then, let’s not stop!” He offers, stretching his hand towards yours. You clasp it, feeling delicate against his larger one. “I still have to tell you about the whole ‘boy is given power he doesn’t know how to control and needs to find a grumpy mentor’ troupe next!”

You squeeze his hand. “I’d love to hear your thoughts on that one.”

Tendou clicks his tongue and wags his finger at you. “It’s not necessarily about my thoughts, it’s the conspiracy I think the troupe ties into.”

The seriousness in his tone made you pause, looks like you were in for a long one.

Amongst him linking the heroes journey and the innate desire for power over others, you marvel at the way his whole body comes alive when talking about something he loves.

It’s much later on, when he’s introducing you to his friends at a reunion, that you notice the bubbly and animated way he presents you to his friends, love evident in each and every word.

Semi:

Now you would think he’d be the calm and collected one after knowing each other for half a decade and dating for a month

Nope.

He's the type to plan to ask you at the perfect time, and will be in a pissy mood if he misses the "perfect" opportunity to ask

When he does finally pose the question, you’ll say yes and he’s ecstatic

Though, he will play it cool and be like, "Ok I'll text you the details later." And flash you the biggest smile that has you melting inside just a little

When he's trying to sleep that night it finally hits him

Oh shit he has to plan a date with the girl he’s been hopelessly pining for

After one text from you confirming you don’t mind where he picks, he’s both relieved and more stressed because now he has to analyse every little thing he knows about you and eventually starts doubting himself

In the end, he decides to play it safe and go with the popular, family owned cafe that plays live music Saturday afternoons

It was perfect, the music act would be quiet enough to still talk if you two wanted or serve as a mediator to break any awkward silence should it pop up

It is honestly the perfect date, in his mind

Comes the day and he swings around your place after agreeing to walk to the café together

The walk is characterised with the brisk autumn wind and catching each other up on what’s been going on during the week

The conversation doesn’t stop from there – something Semi could cry happily over

After ordering and grabbing a seat close to a stage set-up to the side, you note how bright and talkative Semi is and vow to yourself to see this more often

As he takes a sip in the middle of explaining the difference pick positions affects plucking sounds, you comment on his excitement

Even with the flush on his cheeks, he holds a suave facade and merely says that it’s hard to unwind when his friends can be so chaotic when they get together

From there he starts opening up and imparting little facts about himself that you commit to memory

You come to learn that his favourite colour was corn-silk yellow before he went to Shiratorizawa, now it’s royal purple. He loves tekka maki and boasts his mum’s hand-made ones to be the best in the world and offers to share it with you next time she makes them

All of these things slot into what you know about Semi, filed alongside the nuance’s you’ve noticed yourself.

When he’s unsure or embarrassed, he tousles his hair. And when he talks about something he’s passionate with, his hands start gesturing all about the place

You could’ve spent the whole afternoon like that, in the intimately-lit café, hidden amongst the dull chatter of the surrounding patrons, just listening to Semi’s soothing timbre

But life had other plans

The lights on the stage brighten as someone wearing comfortable clothes strolls on and perches up on the stool set-up in front of a lone microphone. She didn’t give off any signs of discomfort at being stared at as she sets up her guitar, giving a few testing strums before introducing herself and launching into her music.

It was only then that conversation broke and ushered in a lilting voice floating on gentle notes.

“They’re amazing.” You breath, eyes not leaving the stage until the musician dismounts from the stage.

“That’s what I want to do one day.”

You turn to him. “Really?”

“Yeah.” The corner of Semi’s lips quirk up a bit, a secret shared unto himself.

“Why?”

Genuine curiosity spurs you to ask, to know. While you could picture Semi perched on the same stool with a guitar all too easy, you never really thought Semi would pursue a career in the industry.

Semi finally turns to you, a fire in his eyes that was normally caused by volleyball and a good challenge. “I want to make people happy and sad - all the emotions really. I want someone to look at me like you did to that girl.”

Tilting your head you say, “Looking at her like what?”

Semi audible swallows. “Like someone that loves the music I make.”

Reaching over the table, you run your thumb over the backs of his knuckles, a comforting gesture. “Semi, I already love talking to you and hanging out, so why wouldn’t I like the music you write?”

The resultant blush on Semi’s face was answer enough to that, even though he tries to hide it behind his cup.

After that, meeting up at the café ends up becoming a weekly occurrence, an oasis that you both look forward to in the midst of life’s chaos.

Yamagata:

Yamagata actually is the smoothest out of them all

After a two weeks of dating, he bounces up to you after a particularly hard day and offers to take you somewhere fun the next day

Your definition of ‘fun’ varies from his, as you soon find out

Where Yamagata believes the best way to get to know someone and have fun simultaneously is putting them through challenges, whereas you believe sitting down and chatting to be the most optimal method

Unfortunately for him and fortunately for you, the paint ball range is closed

Amusement park it is

He leaves it as a surprise and doesn’t tell you until you question the sign of the park he visited frequently as a kid

Overall, you have an absolute ball with him, never a dull moment

Especially after the ferris wheel when Hayato goes to reach for his phone to check the time and finds it missing

The only reason he had it out in the plastic swinging booth was to take a sneaky picture of you looking carefree and relaxed as you gazed down at the park – not that he admitted to that when you asked just how it escaped his pocket

Obviously, it was a very slippery phone since this was the third time this week alone he lost it

After tracking it down with the help of the kind but tired ride operator, the two of you were on your merry way to the next ride, but not without a few light-hearted digs at Yamagata’s forgetfulness

You get to learn a lot about each other personally while waiting in line and over lunch after recovering

At the end of the day, your cheeks ache from much smiled

“I don’t remember it being that crazy as a kid.” Yamagata says, looking pale and breathing shallowly, as if to keep himself from being sick.

You couldn’t blame him, the rollercoaster he convinced you to go on under the guise of “This was my favourite one as a kid! You wouldn’t deny a man from reliving his childhood, would you?”

And like a fool you caved under the pout like a badly cooked soufflé. Now you wished you put up a bit of a fight against going on it. The screams of the riders before you were not exaggerated in the slightest.

“I don’t know how they allow kids on that.” Is all you supply, feeling a little green as well.

Yamagata directs you to the nearest bench and you follow his lead and slump into the seat.

“I don’t know how I forgot how much that thing threw me around. I must’ve just about fell off as a tiny kid. Remind me to thank my dad for coming on with me.”

You try not to laugh at the image of a tiny Yamagata ecstatically cheering as the ride swings around corners at full speed as his dad frantically tries to keep his clueless son from getting tossed out of the cart.

“Your dad is a brave man to go on that thing wilfully.”

Yamagata grimaces. “Brave is a nice way of putting it. I’d call it being insane to put up with me wanting to ride it eight times over.”

This time you do laugh.

“It must be hard saying no to your own kid, though, so cut him some slack.” You joke, knocking your elbow against his side.

He playfully pushes you away, widely grinning once again. The heat from the sun blaring ahead suddenly floods into your cheeks. The sensation of your heart feeling too large for your ribcage seizes you.

And the feeling doesn’t leave, it sticks with you as he laughs, as he drops his ice cream and pouts like a child. It intensifies as a dreamy look enters his eyes as he recalls a fond memory associated with a ride.

You hope that one day that he makes the same expression when he recalls this day spent with you.

Reon:

For some reason, Reon seems like the kind of guy to be inherently talented with gardening

He’s the resident green thumb alongside Ushijima, people pass their dying plants into Reon’s hands for magical resurrection

So it was a no-brainer for him to take you to the local botanical gardens

Rife with both native and exotic flora, there were many scenic walks available, thus was the perfect place for a first date to Reon

Reon meets you at the gates with a soft greeting and an outstretched hand – you two walk through the park with your hand intertwined like that for the rest of the day

Throughout the walk, he points out flowers and gives you their common name and their meanings, along with the meanings he gave them as a kid

It was entirely too cute for your poor heart

“And those are yellow carnation.” He points to a patch of bright yellow flowers with soft-looking ruffled petals. “They represent dislike and disappointment towards the person you give them to, but as a kid I thought they meant that she was my sunshine because of the colour. My mum got quite the kick out of it when I gave them to her for her birthday.”

You burst into laughter, unable to smother it even with Reon’s apparent embarrassment at the event

If your allergies start to play up too badly, Reon will take you to his favourite part, a densely packed section of the gardens filled with trees, concealing a secluded tiny red bridge stretched across a large koi pond with the largest and most colourful koi you’ve seen

Everything within you wanted to stretch this moment out, you could easily live in this moment forever. The buzzing of cicadas in the distance, the grass blades tickling the palms of your hands from where you sat, the soothing rumble of Reon’s voice – this is your personal slice Elysian peace

You did not want to give this up

It’s there that he finally unlinks your hands and brings out the packed lunch he made.

“You made all this?” You gape, taking in the diverse range of food he brought out of his bag.

From seared fish placed neatly atop seasoned rice, to perfectly rounded onigiri. In the next box he opens sat seasoned chicken and beef slices that made your mouth water. Not to mention the salad of rich greens, reds, and yellows that called your name.

Reon chuckles at your awe. “Yeah, I did. I thought it would be nice to eat something home-made while out here, but if you wan to grab something else-“

You cut him off immediately. “Definitely not! This looks and smells amazing. It would be a crime not to eat it.”

The corners of Reon’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I did try not to burn it, so I hope it tastes nice.”

“If it tastes even half as good as it smells, you’ll have to fight me to stop eating.” You reply, accepting the plate he holds out and give thanks as he starts loading your plate.

“I’d never stop you from eating,” he clicks his tongue in false sternness, to which you grin at. “If you’re hungry, I’ll feed you until your happy.”

“I’m happy right now, but I definitely still want the food.” You cheekily fire back.

Reon shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Well then, eat to your heart’s content.”

Taking a bite, you startle Reon with your enthusiastic reaction.

“This tastes better than I imagined.” You gush after swallowing, immediately scooping up another forkful and eating it.

Reon brushes off your compliment in favour for leaning forward and brushing some crumbs off your face. The proximity as your breath stalling in your throat as he lingers for a heartbeat longer, then withdraws.

“I hope we can do this more often. This is the most fun I’ve had in a while.” He quietly admits, the mood taking an intimate turn even with the shouts of kids playing in the distance.

“Me too. I don’t want this date to end.”

Shirabu:

This man prides himself on being observant and not oblivious like how his friends are

And yet, contrary to this, it takes him several trips to realise that he’s been on what would count as a date with you

You'll talk about needing a new jumper for winter and Shirabu will ask to tag along. You wanted to watch a movie? Shirabu is coming too. Like having someone besides you while studying? Shirabu was your go-to study buddy, whether in silence or as a conversation partner when your brain was overloaded

Out of the blue, he asks with no certain amount of panic, "Were those trips I went on with you dates?"

"I never really gave it much thought…” You match Shirabu’s expression as you consider his question. "I didn’t want to be presumptuous and assume that they were, and you never brought it up, so I left it be."

"Let me have a re-do." Determination flares in his usually guarded eyes and you couldn't refute.

“Gladly.”

Shirabu glances away from your face, unable to bear looking at the fond expression you wore for too long without his heart suffering. “I want to take you somewhere nice.”

“Everywhere I go with you is nice, Shirabu. It’s less about the place and more about the person.” You rebuke.

Shirabu looks away before you catch the full extent of his blush at your words. “No, I mean I want to take you somewhere that can become special for the both of us.”

You catch his hand in yours, tugging it for him to turn back towards you. Gone was the characteristic impassive façade, now replaced with a tenderness that makes you near melt.

Your first official date with him is a picnic in a park on top a hill to watch the sunset

Something he thinks is extremely cheesy and overdone but the look of excitement on your face immediately silenced his rebuttals

There was no way in hell that he was going to be the reason for your disappointment if he can help it

As such, he went all out

Hiring the gazebo and ordering food to be delivered from a restaurant he knows that you’ve wanted to try out for the longest time

Not that he actually tells you, but it wasn’t hard to deduce his excitement when he waits for you at the gazebo with a small smile, dressed nicely in pressed slacks and a dress shirt with a bundle of flowers

Upon the wide-eyed stare he receives from you, he spends the first minutes of the date describing what the florist thought best for him

A bunch of camellias ranging from a deep and vivid red to the first blush of love pink to the innocence of white gathered in a golden ribbon. He doesn’t exactly tell you their meanings other than a short, “Flowers are flowers, all I want them to show is that I love you.”

What he didn’t know was that the florist had the foresight to hide a card detailing the meaning of each flower amongst the paper holding them

White camellias meaning “You’re adorable” to red camellias meaning “You’re a flame in my heart” (something you blush at in the security of your own home) and the pink one representing longing

As the meal arrives and the two of you eat, the conversation drifts from current events to bits and pieces of everything and anything

The highlight of conversation was Kenjirou’s answer to the question “What do you think you’ll see first: a ghost or an alien?”

Apparently Kenjirou was secretly a space-lover

From the lecture he launched into about the statistics of it all and you come away from that conversation with more knowledge of possibility of E.T's versus spectres than you would’ve thought

The afternoon starts fading into dusk quicker than you realised, too wrapped up trading short anecdotes of your respective families

Shirabu only realises the fading light once the fairy lights decorating the space become brighter, and it is only then that Shirabu like a gentleman, brings out a blanket and escorts you to the grassy knoll besides the gazebo

Laying out the blanket, you notice it’s the perfect position to watch the sun set and you can’t help but give him a quick hug in gratitude before you sit down and make yourself comfortable

It floored you how much effort and consideration he put into this one afternoon amongst all his classes and assignments – it made you feel incredibly warm against the cool night air creeping in

As you shift to get comfortable, your hand lands on top of his. You’re just about to whisk it away, but he shoots you a soft smile and twists his hand in your grasp and gives it a squeeze

Your hands stayed intertwined as the blues faded into pinks and oranges, then into purples and the deep satiny blue of the night sky

The sunny photos with matching smiles from that afternoon soon decorate your wall

Kawanishi:

Unlike the others, Taichi really doesn’t care about being seen as “basic” for taking you out to watch a movie and grab dinner afterwards

He asked you out so casually, you agreed without it even hitting you that it was a date until he grinned at you and cheekily replied, “Great, it’s a date then.”

The movie in question was one you’ve been waiting forward for its release and Taichi was interested in it as well, so really it was an excuse for the both of you to watch the movie together instead of alone.

It went great, asides from the old couple staring the two of you in line, not so quietly reminiscing their first date

Embarrassment aside, Taichi was sweet throughout the entirety of it

Arguing to pay until reluctantly splitting the bill when you argued that it wasn’t fair

Waiting outside for it to start, Taichi and yourself bide the time by guessing what the other movies were about by their posters and making each other laugh

Once the movie starts, the chatter between you two dies down, yet the casual intimacy doesn’t fade in the slightest

Sharing an arm rest, the both of you exchange glances at one another throughout the movie, and bump elbows when something interesting or funny happens

It was a far-cry from the intimacy of the other’s dates, but it was perfect for the two of you

By now, the two of you have been friends much longer than you have been dating

Neither of you wanted to rush things, happy to take it as it comes and retain that familiarity from years of friendship stay untainted from the innate awkwardness of new love

Coming out of the theatre, Taichi is the most talkative you’ve seen him yet as he offers his opinion on the film

You avidly listen without a word of complaint

It was nice to hear what went through Taichi’s mind when he always kept his emotions close to his heart, you felt damn-near jubilant over him coming out of his shell – even after all the years of friendship

He offers to grab dinner and after a mild debate over which place is better, you end up flipping a coin and grabbing some fast food and eating it at a near-by park

Eating the meal in relative silence, it was only broken to point out the ducks and giving them names. It was laid-back and you were enjoying yourself, yet Taichi remained stiff by your side.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly the most romantic date.” Taichi rubs at the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes.

You quirk a brow at him. “How isn’t this a romantic date?”

Taichi finally looks at you, although in confusion. “Because I should’ve taken you to a nice, fancy restaurant for our first date.”

“I work on the belief that anywhere is romantic if you make it so. It depends on the company.” You shrug.

Taichi’s mouth curves into a smirk. “Oh? So you wouldn’t mind having our next one at a cemetery?”

You dig an elbow into his side and roll your eyes at the performance he puts on.

“That’s not what I meant, smartass.”

Taichi stops the pouting and slumps into the seat. Hating the sombre mood he’s in, you curl your arm through his and tuck into his side.

“Besides, you can always make it up to me in the future. I want the place to be so expensive that the proportions are baby-sized.”

Taichi’s rich laugh rumbles through you. It was a losing battle against the rapid thrum of your heart and the thoughts of warmth that consume you with his proximity.

You also didn’t try to fight the urge to cuddle further into his side, something he gladly accepted as he wraps his arm even tighter around you.

“I promise.” He sighs, a happy noise as he rests his head against yours, two bodies becoming one whole on that one spring afternoon.

Goshiki:

Not everything in life is a competition, yet Goshiki couldn’t thrive without it

Besides, if he thought too long and hard about it (which he did) an arcade date was the best option

It presented the perfect chance to show off his skills and impress you

When he finally works up the courage to ask you, it had been a while since you’ve been, so you were more than happy to accept

Goshiki deflated with relief because a back-up option didn’t exist

Even after dating for over a month by this point, this would be the first official date he’s taken you out on

After worrying that it was too childish or not at all romantic for a first date, you spent the better half of the afternoon before it convincing him otherwise

At the arcade, Goshiki takes your hand and guides you around the place, pointing out games he bested as a teenager before finally settling on war-cross-zombie two player shooting game

With the growing win streak, the two of you continue playing the game until Goshiki accidentally gets his player killed

Pouting, he suggests a different game to soothe his bruised ego

The pout disappears as he finds a different game he’s decent at, tickets flying out as the points rack up

He glows as you praise his skill

It was too easy to bait him into playing hoop games, which he surprisingly sucked at

You discovered him to be especially gifted at reflex games, where the both of you won the most tickets

With each claw game he stubbornly refuses to “eat his hard-earned money”, he proudly passes off each plushie to you

Goshiki wins whatever prize your eyes linger over, no matter how frustrated it makes him

With each one, you promise to keep and inwardly muse that you’ll have to install a new shelf for them

A few hours deep, you had managed to win him an eagle. It’s the only prize you had won big enough to portray the amount of affection you held towards the bowl-cut male.

It was a bit mishappen and looked more fit to be the mascot for a horror game than a children’s show, however you still offered it to him.

His eyes grow wide. “Really?”

“I mean, I can get you something better if you give me a few minutes…” You frown at the plushie as Goshiki holds it up. It’s even uglier in the light. Why the hell would they have this as a prize?

You reach out to grab it from him and Goshiki snatches it away from your grasp, pressing it into his chest and curling around it protectively. “No!”

You stand there, stunned, as Goshiki flushes at the looks he got from the shout and starts stumbling over his words.

“I mean, it’s fine and not creepy at all – No, I mean it’s cute,” he unconvincingly amends at your wince. “It’s something that you worked hard to get. I’ll treasure it forever, I swear.”

The conviction in his voice was enough to ease your concern.

“I could get you a better one, though. One that’s less creepy.” You offer, gesturing towards the wide array of claw machines boasting figurines and cuter plushies.

“No thank you. I like this one.” Goshiki is stubborn and you should’ve expected that.

You sigh, lips unsurely pulling upwards. “If you’re sure?”

Goshiki gives a sharp nod, and you know that that’s the end of that. He would not budge.

Yet you couldn’t find it within yourself to be exasperated at the awe-filled look he gives the plushie as you two leave the arcade, holding it like it was made of expensive finery instead of cheap thread and fabric.

Months later you got to see the monstrosity again, tucked up on the shelf above his bed, proudly sitting between medals he’s won through the years.

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 4: Man Pouts on Couch

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

Mulder is not feeling lucky.

In hindsight, he should have suspected something was off today; Scully kept looking at her watch.

It’s Friday, March 13th, and he thought it’d be cute to invite Scully out for a drink again, make a little joke about it becoming a Friday the 13th tradition. This could work, he thinks. His plan is simple; ask her out every once in a while, for some reason or another, with the intention of eventually coming clean and setting up a proper date.

At five o’clock he stands up and stretches with performative nonchalance. “Buy you a drink, Scully?” he asks, cocking his head towards the calendar pinned to the office wall, surrounded by newspaper clippings and grainy photos.

She pauses with her arm halfway into the sleeve of her coat. “I…” She falters and presses her lips together, looking suddenly guilty.

“What is it?” he asks quietly, a pit growing in his stomach.

“I’d love to, Mulder, but I actually have a date tonight.”

The earth stops spinning and Mulder is thrown off balance, hurtling through the atmosphere.

“Oh,” he says softly. “That doctor guy?”

Scully nods, not meeting his gaze. “His name is Mark,” she says. “We’re getting sushi.” She looks up at him then, big blue eyes soft. “A rain check?” she asks hopefully.

She owns him; one look like that and he’d sell his soul to buy her a cup of shitty coffee. “Sure. Another time, then,” Mulder says, gathering up every scrap of composure he has left, patching together a smile for her. “Have fun.”

He goes home and throws himself face down onto the couch.

She has a date. A real date, with a presumably mentally stable human man with a high-value job. And a daughter. A ready-made family, just add water and stir. This Mark guy probably calls her Dana, asks her how her mother’s doing, feeds her bits of sashimi with no threat of aliens or shadow governments in sight. Maybe he’ll kiss her at the end of the night, softly with closed lips like a gentleman.

What stings the most is the fact that this Doctor Mark had the balls to tell Scully outright that he’s interested in her romantically, something Mulder has yet to do.

Mulder knows he should eat, but his stomach is churning and the idea of food sickens him. He’s being dramatic and irrational; it’s just one date. But the implications are weighty, the potential enormous.

He feels bad for being upset. This is good for her; she needs to get out of the basement, connect with other rational people, find some normalcy and balance in her life.

You need those things too, he hears her say in his head.

He brushes it aside. It’s different for him; he created this life for himself. He’s a collapsed star, a black hole of conspiracy and paranoia that sucks in everything that gets too close. The last thing he wants is for her to get lost in his darkness, swallowed by the void like some interstellar debris.

She’d told him that night in Rock Creek Park that she does’t blame him for what’s happened to her, but that doesn’t assuage his guilt. He carries the weight of what she calls her choices, a load she has no intention of sharing with him, awaiting no acknowledgement or thanks.

He’s doing it to himself.

Mulder whiles away the hours on the couch, gazing up at the constellations of pencil marks on his ceiling, tossing his basketball above his head. He drops it on his face twice.

He knows it’s probably only going to make him feel worse, but he’s a glutton for punishment; so at eleven-thirty that night he picks up the phone and calls Scully.

He waits for her to answer, his heart sinking lower with each ring. She’s not picking up. Is she still out? he thinks anxiously. The guy has a kid, so it’s unlikely that they’d stay out too late unless he’s arranged it with his babysitter…

“Hello?” Scully’s slightly husky voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Scully,” he says, tentative relief creeping into his body.

“Mulder, what is it?” she asks. “It’s late. For normal people, anyway. Are you alright?”

“‘M’ fine,” he assures he. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

He hears her hum in understanding. Late night phone calls between them aren’t uncommon, after all. “Have you tried counting sheep?” she asks, not unkindly. “Or slowing your breathing down, focusing on the cadence of inhales and exhales like I showed you?”

He’s wide awake, sitting upright on his couch, still in the slacks and wrinkled button-down he wore to the office that day. “Yes,” he lies. “It’s not helping. There’s too much going on in my head right now.”

“You work too much,” she says gently. “And yet not enough, when deadlines are involved. We’ve got an impressive paperwork backlog-”

“Can we not talk about work right now?” He reaches down and unties his shoes. “Otherwise I’ll never get to sleep.”

“Right.” There’s rustling on her end. She’s in bed, he realizes.

“Did I wake you, Scully?” he asks, trying to hide his surprise.

“It’s fine, Mulder, I was only dozing,” she replies.

“Oh, how was the date?” he asks, as though it only just occurred to him, instead of being the only thing he’s thought about all night.

“It was nice,” she responds, and he drops his head onto the back of the couch in defeat. Shit. Shit shit shit shit-

“We talked about medicine, about cancer, loss. His daughter’s name is Amanda,” she continues. “Her mother - his wife - died when Mandy was only two, so he’s mostly raised her alone.”

“That’s rough,” Mulder says softly. Please don’t make me feel bad for this guy, Scully, I can’t bear it, he thinks.

“Mhm,” she agrees. “And his work at the hospital is pretty grueling, so his mother helps out a lot. I… I told him about Emily.”

“How’d that go?” Mulder asks, concerned. “It’s not the most… plausible-sounding story.”

“I was vague,” she replies. “All I really said was that I had recently reconnected with a child I’d been separated from, right before she died. He didn’t ask for details; he could probably tell it was a fresh wound.”

They’re silent for a moment.

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” Mulder asks quietly. Somehow he already knows what she’s going to say, and he braces himself for the sting of her words as they pierce his heart.

“I… I think I will,” Scully says, sounding distant. “I mean, it’s worth a shot, right?”

She deserves this. She deserves a chance at something ordinary, safe, comfortable.

“Maggie Scully didn’t raise a quitter,” he says with a watery smile she’ll never see.

She chuckles. “No, I suppose she didn’t,” Scully muses. He hears her yawn. “I’m tired out, Mulder. Think you can sleep now?”

“I’ll try,” he says. He’s surprised to feel his eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears. “Thanks for talking to me,” he adds.

“Anytime. Sleep well,” she says warmly, and the line goes dead.

He supposes he brought this on himself by keeping his feelings hidden. He waited too long, playing it safe. He wanted to gauge her feelings before he made any overt moves, and someone else beat him to it.

It’s just one date. But there’s going to be more. By the sound of it, she wants there to be more.

There’s no way he’s going to sleep well tonight.

He’s in a sour mood when he’s summoned to the Gunmen’s… den? lair? headquarters? the next afternoon, by way of one of their patented cryptic phone calls.

Byers unfastens the dozen locks on the door and lets him inside. “Mulder,” he says, ushering him in. “Good to see you.”

Mulder flops down in a rickety desk chair, exhaustion permeating his muscles. “I’m not up for being social today, boys,” he warns. “You said you had information for me?”

“We took the liberty of looking into Agent Scully’s new… uh, friend,” Byers says.

“For safety reason,” Langly adds, seeing Mulder’s lips purse.

“She’s precious cargo,” Frohike says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“How did you find him?” Mulder asks. “I didn’t even know his first name until yesterday.”

“Don’t insult us with your surprise,” Frohike mutters. “We’re experts.”

“We knew he’s a part of the parish Scully attends-“ Byers begins.

“And we knew he’s an ER doc, has a 6 year old daughter, and a dead wife,” Langly cuts in. “That’s plenty to go on.”

“I don’t need to know more than that,” Mulder says, suddenly feeling guilty. “It’s not my business.”

“Maybe not, but we have the info,” Frohike says. “Look, all you need to know is that he seems legit. Name’s Einolander, if you were curious.”

“I wasn’t,” Mulder lies, taking a sunflower seed out of his pocket and biting it pensively.

“Of course not,” Byers says, sounding completely unconvinced.

“You alright, Mulder?” Langly asks. “You look rough.”

“Of course he does,” Frohike hisses in the least subtle whisper of all time. “Scully’s dating someone that’s not him. Cut the guy some slack.”

“You guys don’t know shit,” Mulder grumbles, then backtracks, running his hands over his face. “I’m sorry. I, uh... didn’t sleep well.”

“It’s okay, man,” Langly says.

Frohike nods sagely. ”We know how you feel about her. This can’t be easy for you.”

Mulder wilts in his chair. “How did you know?” he asks pathetically, realizing the jig is up. Has he really been so obvious this whole time? Fucking hell.

“Look, knowing things is our business,” Byers explains. “And we know you. We’ve been around the block with you a few times, and nobody’s meant this much to you. Not even Diana.”

“Plus, Agent Scully is a smokeshow, and you have eyes,” Frohike adds. Byers gives him a jab with his elbow. “Hey, I stand by that,” he declares, rubbing his arm.

“Well thanks anyway, fellas,” Mulder says, standing. “I should get going. The walls in my apartment won’t stare at themselves.”

“Do you want the file we put together on the guy?” Byers asks. “We can make copies.”

Mulder shakes his head. “Keep it. Draw a mustache on his photo or something.” He picks up his coat and slings it over his shoulder. “You kids have fun.”

“If you need anything, just flag us down,” Frohike says, patting Mulder’s back before unlatching the door.

Mulder steps out the door, then turns back. “How old is this guy?”

“Forty-one,” Byers says, flipping through the file. “Five-foot-ten, dark blond hair, brown eyes. Blood type-”

Mulder holds up a hand. “I don’t want to know. Bye, guys.”

He gets a petty, juvenile satisfaction from the fact that he’s two inches taller and four years younger than Dr. Einolander. It’s short-lived, but at this point he’ll take what he can get.

Because he can’t get Scully.

[sfb123]

Sapere Aude - Part 12

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

If you’re new to Sapere Aude, please click the link above to start from the beginning. There’s so much going on right now that you’ll be way too confused to start from this point. Plus, there are some major bombshells that won’t be as fun if you read this and get a bunch of spoilers.

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: PG-13 Adult language, discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.

Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.

Disclaimer: I have no current affiliation with any other Via Imperii themed stories. Any claims that I have pre-read anything are false.

Word Count: 2,015

A/N: I started writing this chapter, and all of the sudden realized it was way to long, and nobody was going to be able to hang in for the whole thing, so I ended up splitting it up into two, which means chapter 13 is already on deck and ready to roll, you should be seeing that next week (I don’t want to bombard you with too many chapters at once). I really didn’t know what I was going to do with this part of the story, but I just started writing and my fingers spit out the words.

Shout outs to @jessiembruno​ for constantly letting me annoy you with brainstorming, snippet bombardment, and beta read love notes. You are the best ride or die a girl could ask for. @txemrn​ thank you for pre-reading, and being an amazing cheerleader. All of this, this whole story, me writing in general, it’s all your fault, and I will forever be grateful to you for it (if you hate my work, and wonder who the hell I think I am to be here and be doing this, A. I agree and B. blame this lady). @twinkleallnight​ thank you thank you thank you for both of the amazing mood boards that you created for me. I appreciate you.

Tags: Listed below, hit me up to be added or removed.

“Riley, love, come sit. You need to calm down, I can’t understand what you’re saying.” Liam carefully guided her to the couch and helped her sit. “Wait right there, take deep breaths, I’m going to go get you some water.” He kissed her forehead and wiped away a few of her tears before walking into the kitchen, quickly returning with a glass of water. He placed it in her hands and sat beside her, placing one hand on her back, the other on her knee.

He spent the next several minutes just sitting with her in silence, taking all of the time she needed to compose herself. As her breathing began to return to normal, she placed the glass on the table in front of her and leaned back on the couch. She lifted her hand to wipe her tears, but Liam beat her to it, gently running his thumbs along her cheeks. 

“Are you feeling up to telling me what happened?” His hands lingered on her face as he looked deeply into her eyes with a loving, yet concerned expression. 

She shook her head, placing her hands over his. “Not really, but I have to. It’s bad, Liam. It’s really bad.” Riley took a deep breath, preparing herself to say the next words. “They’re pushing for an Auvernal alliance.” 

Liam’s hands quickly dropped to his lap. “But we shut that idea down years ago. Auvernal doesn’t want to work with us, they want to take us over.”

“I know, I tried to explain that to them, but they think we made the decision because we didn’t want to marry our daughter off to their nightmare child. And they’re not wrong, but so much more went into our decision. We were looking out for the whole country.” 

“Of course we were, for them to think anything else is outrageous. She was behind this, wasn’t she? She’s from Auvernal, I wouldn't put it past her.” Liam stood from his seat and began to pace the room. 

Riley followed him to the other side of the room, the roles quickly reversing, she was now going to be the one keeping him composed. “No, actually Neville brought it up and the rest of the group agreed. She brought the room back to order, told everyone we would take a breather and revisit it. She wants to set up a meeting with me next week to discuss it one on one. I told her off.” 

His feet immediately stopped moving and he turned to face his wife. “You...told her off?” She nodded slowly. “What did you say?” Liam really didn’t care to hear anything about Eleanor, but he couldn’t help but be curious about what Riley said to her. His heart swelled, knowing that she stood up for him, he loved her so much. 

“She tried to ask me if I was alright, and I unloaded on her. How would I have been alright after being ambushed by everyone? And I called her out for not defending our decision. The only reason I’ve been trying to work with her and hear her out was because she said she did all of this to protect you. How the fuck does any of this protect you?” She approached him slowly, taking his hands in hers. “How could she question your judgement like that? Obviously we had good reasons for ending that agreement. She said she’s been keeping tabs on you since she left, but obviously she doesn’t know you at all if she thinks you would make a selfish decision under the guise of protecting your country. You’re not your father.” 

He pulled Riley to him and held her tightly, she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. “I am going to arrange for everyone to meet us in Valtoria as soon as possible. We are going to take some time away, as a family, while we come up with a plan for how to stop this.” He felt her head move against his chest, nodding in agreement. He kissed her on the crown of her head before pulling back to look her in the eyes. “Riley, it means the world that you stood up to her like that for me. Thank you.”

“You would have done the same for me.” She shrugged, she didn’t think she did anything particularly remarkable. Standing up for her husband was just a thing that she did, like breathing or eating. 

Liam smiled softly at his wife. “In a heartbeat.” He agreed, before kissing her tenderly. 

***

A few days later, as promised, Liam had arranged for Maxwell, Drake, and Olivia to meet them in Valtoria for the weekend. They would use this time to come up with a plan, but it also gave everyone a much needed respite from everything that had been going on. They agreed to take a couple of days to relax and enjoy their time as an extended family before digging into the inevitable unpleasantness. 

Everyone was relaxing by the lake, Drake and Eleanor were fishing while the rest of the group sat around a nearby picnic table talking and enjoying some snacks prepared by the kitchen staff. 

“Your Majesty.” Mara approached, interrupting the conversation. “I apologize, but I need a moment of your time.”

“Of course.” Riley stood from her seat and addressed her friends. “I’ll be right back guys.” Liam kissed her hand before releasing it, watching her walk away. 

Once they got out of earshot of everyone else, Mara informed Riley that Eleanor had sent a request for the one on one meeting she had mentioned at the Via Imperii gathering. And that she would need to leave immediately to meet with her. 

“But I’m on a family vacation, Mara. Can’t this wait another day or two?” Riley didn’t want to have this meeting at all, and now it was going to be interrupting time with her family. 

“I’m afraid not ma’am, she said it is time sensitive.”  

“Fine.” Riley sighed. “Please go get the car ready, I will let everyone know that I have to step away.”

Mara nodded in acknowledgement and took her leave to arrange for their departure as Riley returned to the table. Everyone took note of her somber expression, they had a feeling they knew exactly what this was about. 

Liam stood from his seat and approached her, taking her hand. “What is it, love?”

“She wants to have that meeting. Now.” Riley took a deep breath running a nervous hand through her hair. “Mara went to get the car.”

Liam pulled her into a comforting embrace, wrapping his arms securely around her. “It’s alright, this may actually work in our favor. We were all going to talk about a plan tonight anyway. Maybe you will be able to get more information, or anything else that could help us.”

Riley pulled away and met his eyes. “You’re right. I need to suck it up, I just want this to be over.”

“I know love, I know. Me too.” He placed a hand on her cheek and kissed her on the forehead. 

Riley said goodbye to everyone else and made her way to the front of the estate, meeting Mara at the car before getting in and heading to the Fierro Estate. The ride was spent in silence as Riley took the time to gather her thoughts and think of the best probing questions to ask, allowing her to get the most information without being too obvious in her phishing. 

Upon their arrival, Mara led her to the back of the estate, to a room that was much smaller than the others she had seen. Mara opened the door and signaled for Riley to step inside, she entered and noticed Neville sitting at a small table, a smug expression on his face. She turned to address Mara, who had closed the door and was standing in front of it, clearly intending to prevent Riley from leaving.

“What is this all about Neville? I am supposed to be meeting with Eleanor.”

Neville stood and slowly approached the queen. “Come now Riley, I knew you were uneducated, but I had no idea you were this dumb. You haven’t already realized that she’s not the one that called you here?”

“Enough with this ‘your status doesn’t matter in the Via Imperii’ bullshit. I am your queen, and I expect to be addressed as such.” Riley stood tall, her hands firmly planted on her hips. 

“Titles should be reserved for those worthy of them. You have done nothing in your time here to deserve respect, so if I am not required to show it, I certainly won’t.”

“Alright, I’m sick of this. We already know you can’t sword fight for shit, Drake proved that in front of the entire court. Let’s see how you are with hand to hand combat.”

Neville chuckled. “I’m not going to fight you. You’re not even worth that.”

Riley began poking at his shoulder. “Why? Afraid to get your ass kicked by a girl?”

“Of course not. You forget, I have the upper hand here, I don’t have to resort to such childish, archaic methods.” He looked beyond Riley. “Mara, rational conversation is clearly not going to work here. Please restrain our guest.”

***

As the sun began to set over the lake in Valtoria, everyone collected their things and began to head into the house. 

“Daddy, when will mommy be home?” Eleanor looked up at her father as they walked hand in hand.

“Soon princess, mommy will be home soon.” Liam checked his watch and looked up at Drake with a concerned expression. “She should have been back by now.” he said quietly so that Eleanor wouldn’t hear. 

Drake clapped Liam on the shoulder. “I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll go ask Bas to ping her phone to get a location on her. We can send a guard to keep an eye out if you want.” Liam nodded and Drake broke away from the group. 

Liam walked with Elanor into her bedroom, followed by Thomas. As Thomas crossed the threshold, his phone began ringing in his pocket. He pulled it out, checking the ID quickly before silencing it and returning it to his pocket. 

Liam looked up from the bookshelf where Eleanor was picking a story. “You can take that if you’d like, Thomas. I will be here with Eleanor, we’ll be alright for a few minutes.” 

“Thank you Sir, I will make it brief.” Thomas bowed before exiting the room. “Mother?” He answered the phone once the door was shut behind him.

“Thomas dear, I haven’t been able to get a hold of Mara to coordinate my meeting with Riley. Can you tell me where she is?”

Thomas furrowed his brow. “She’s with you. She took Riley to the estate earlier today for your meeting. She said you called her this morning.”

“But I haven’t spoken to Mara since the meeting the other night. I certainly didn’t call for Riley.” Eleanor’s mind raced thinking of all of the possible reasons that Mara would have misled Riley like that. She flashed back to the night of the meeting, after Riley stormed off, Eleanor saw her approach Mara, who had been speaking with Neville. “Thomas, I need you to get Liam and meet me at the estate. Send some additional guards as well.”

“Mom...what’s going on.”

“I’m not quite sure, but if it’s what I think it is, we have to move fast.”

“Ok.” Thomas ended the call and returned to Eleanor’s bedroom. Eleanor was sitting at her table reading, while Liam stood with Drake and Bastien on the other side of the room. “Sir,” Thomas interrupted their conversation, “we have a situation.”

“Thomas, you are senior enough in the guard that you can handle it on your own, we are trying to locate the queen.” Bastien ordered, but Thomas didn’t move. 

“Um...actually, it’s about the queen. Your majesty, you need to come with me, and we need to send some additional guards along with us.”

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Sapere Aude:

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Liam x Riley:

@jared2612​

Liam:

@amandablink​ @yourmajesty09​

[avengerscompound]

Until the End of the World - 3

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  1725

Rating:  E

Warnings: Talk of pregnancy

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together.  Things are calm and you feel like a family unit.  When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem.  When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created.

Chapter 3

You were thoroughly exhausted by the time you, Bucky, and Steve dragged the suitcases inside your apartment.  The trip to Florida had wiped you out with all the traveling and theme parks and eating out every night, but it had been worth it.  The three of you needed time away from the Avengers just to practice being a regular family.

There was no way you had imagined it would have worked as well as it did.  With Geo calling Steve and Bucky ‘dad’ and plans for adding more kids, things had gone from being four people sharing their lives, to four members of the same family.

It was exciting thinking about what was to come.  It had been a long time since you and Geo had stopped running and settled down in a life with Bucky and Steve and when you looked back on those days it often seemed like a bad dream that had happened to some completely different person.  Not that it hadn’t left some pretty permanent scars.  You were still constantly checking over your shoulder for danger.  You would completely panic if you were out with Geo and he went out of your line of vision, even for a second.  You had separation anxiety (something that Geo shared) and there were times when you’d just feel generally uneasy like you did when you thought it was time to run.

Generally, things were fine.  You didn’t have a go-bag packed.  Geo had a school and friends.  You had gone back to school and you were working.  You were in love and you felt safe and normal in what was maybe not the most normal of situations, but in a lot of ways was so much better.  Because if the choice was happy or normal, happy would always win.

The thought of expanding the family with Bucky and Steve was exciting.  You loved them and couldn’t pretend that the thought of a bigger family wasn’t something you daydreamed about.  Even back with your first marriage, the idea of a few kids was something you’d toyed with.  They were so good with Geo and they had so much love to give other people.  Plus they seemed to need the piece of normal that you and Geo could provide for them.  It kept them grounded in a reality that wasn’t just saving the world and risking their lives.

So as exhausted as you were when you flopped down on the couch in your apartment, you were also excited.  Excited about the future and all the good things it was going to bring.

“I know we all really want something home-cooked,” Steve said as he flopped down beside you.  “But I think we should order in.”

“No arguments from me!”  Bucky called as he grabbed the bags and headed to the laundry.

Steve pulled out his phone and began to search for something to eat while Geo sat down and began to play on his tablet when there was a knock at the door.

“Who is it, FRIDAY?”  Steve asked.

“Mister Stark and Ms. Potts are here with Morgan,” FRIDAY said.

Steve chuckled and shook his head.  “Let them in.”

The door clicked open and the Stark family came inside, two-and-a-half-year-old Morgan immediately peeling away from her parents and toddling over to Geo.  “Welcome home!”  Tony said as Steve got to his feet.  “I hope you enjoyed your vacation.  Because it was the last one you ever have.”

“Not even going to let us take a breath?”  Steve teased.  “Any of you want a drink?”

“Yes, pwease,” Morgan said, looking up from the pile of toys Geo was pulling out from his bag to show her.

“What nice manners,” Steve joked.  “Not like daddy at all, huh?  What would you like, honey?”

“Juice, pwease,” she said.

“I’ll have tea if that’s okay,” Pepper added.

Tony followed Steve into the kitchen while Pepper came and sat down next to you.  “Sorry about the intrusion.  Tony���s been tearing his hair out the past two days and Morgan’s been asking when Geo gets home.”

“It’s fine,” you said, waving her off.  “It’s nice to feel needed.”

“So how was it?  Should we be buying Mickey ears for Morgan and heading south?”  Pepper asked.

“Yeah, really good,” you said, a contented smile spreading over your face.

“Oh, that sounds way more significant than getting your photo with Belle,” Pepper said, looking you over.  “What happened?”

“Geo, how about you go play with those in your room.  You can show her the lightsabers you built,” you said.

“Yeah,” Geo said, jumping up.  “Come on Morgan.”

The toddler was on her feet immediately chasing after the boys she idolized as he dragged his bag of treasures into his room.

“Go on, spill it,” Pepper said when they were safely out of earshot.

“Well,” you said quietly.  “For starters, Geo started calling them both ‘dad’.”

Pepper’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open.  “Wow, that is big.  How are they taking that?”

You went to say more but Bucky came in and looked around perplexed.  “Where is everyone?”  He asked.

“Steve and Tony are in the kitchen and Geo is showing Morgan his Disney haul in his room,” you explained.

Bucky came down and sat beside you, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you a little closer.  “So what’s that face for?”  He asked, gesturing to Pepper.

Pepper started laughing.   “She just told me that Geo started calling you and Steve ‘dad’.”

“Oh, yeah,” Bucky grinned.  “Pretty great, huh?”

“How do you feel about that?”  Pepper asked.

“Good,” Bucky said with a nod.  “Really good.  It was a little dramatic at first because it just slipped out and he thought he was going to get in trouble or something.  But I talked him down, and now it’s just what he calls us, and I love it.”

“How about, Steve?”  Pepper asked.

“He loves it too,” you answered.  “I get the feeling no one brought it up before because no one wanted to pressure each other into calling them that.  But it’s not Steve and Bucky haven’t been his dad for years now.”

“Of course,” Pepper nodded.  “He probably barely even remembers a time they weren’t there.”

“Exactly,” you said.  “And I can’t pretend that I don’t wish he had known his biological dad.  But that’s not the world he was born into.  But thanks to these guys -” you nudged Bucky.  “He’s safe and he has two dads who love him very much.”

“Yeah, he does,” Bucky agreed, giving you a soft squeeze around the waist.

“You said ‘for starters’,” Pepper said, looking back at you.  “What else?”

You looked at Bucky.  “Is it okay if I tell her?”

He raised an eyebrow at you.  “I dunno, I guess.  Is it really something you tell?”

“Not everyone,” you agreed.  “But you can tell some people.  Can’t just keep stuff bottled up.”

“What?”  Pepper said, sitting forward in her chair.  “What’s going on?  You can’t just not tell me now.”

“We’re going to start trying to have a baby,” you said.

If Pepper had looked surprised before, she looked nothing but completely dumbfounded now.  Her eyes were wide and her mouth slowly opened and then closed again.  “Wow.  Wow… that’s huge,” she said.  “Oh my god!  Tony is going to be so excited when he finds out.  Expect to be flooded with gifts and unwanted advice when it actually happens.  He is the expert in parenting now.”

You and Bucky laughed.  “Well, it hasn’t happened yet.  I’ve got an IUD in, so I’m going to need to make an appointment to get that out for starters.”

“That’s amazing,” she said.  “I’m so happy for you all.  It sounds like this trip was exactly what you needed.”  She paused for a moment and fidgeted in her seat. “Can I ask a question that might seem a little … invasive?”

You shrugged.  “Sure.  If you can't, who can?”

She laughed and shook her head.  “Well, I do appreciate that,” she said.  “Do you know how you’re going to do it?  I mean… biologically speaking?”

You looked at Bucky and furrowed your brow.  The truth was, none of you had spoken about that.   It was in the list of ‘fine details to work out later’.  You didn’t care how it happened.  You were going to be the baby’s biological mother no matter what, and even if the three of you decided to go a completely different route and adopt, they’d already proven that they didn’t need biology at all to love a child.  You hoped they didn’t get territorial now that you were trying for one together.

“I mean we haven’t…” you started.

“We definitely still need to iron some things out,” Bucky added.  “But I know I don’t really mind.  I figure we just see what happens.”

“You don’t care if you’re not the biological dad?”  You asked.

Bucky smiled and shook his head.  “It’ll be mine no matter what.”

You smiled as you looked into the cool gray of his eyes.  Bucky tended to wear his pain constantly.  Even when he was otherwise happy you could see that pain reflected in his eyes.  Right now though, there was none.  His eyes glimmered with the hope of things to come and what looked like real, deep down to his core, happiness.  “I love you,” you whispered and brought your lips to his.  He smiled against your lips as he returned the kiss deeply, his hand going to your cheek and cradling it.

There was the course sound of someone clearing their throat and you looked up to see Tony and Steve in the doorway that led to the kitchen.  “Are you two just going to invite us around here and make out in front of my wife?”  Tony teased.

“I don’t actually remember inviting you around,” you shot back.

Tony laughed loudly and clapped Steve on the shoulder.  “Well, I know when I’m not wanted.”

“No, stay,” you said.  “We’re going to order food.  Let Morgan play with Geo for a bit longer.”

Tony chuckled and took a seat next to Pepper.  “Only if the two of you promise to keep your tongues to yourselves.”

You shrugged.  “I absolutely cannot promise that,” you said, causing Tony to break down into peals of laughter yet again.

// NEXT

[lady-divine-writes]

ACITW AU one-shot - “Draining Pipes” (Rated M)

Summary: After Sebastian is accidentally exposed to Covid, Kurt convinces him to quarantine. While the rest of the city is slowly opening up, Kurt is returning to a life that resembles normal. But for Sebastian, home alone without his boyfriend, isolation is changing him. And Kurt has some concerns... (2063 words)

Notes: Yes, this is a pandemic fic, but I promise, it's funny XD

Read on AO3.

"Hi, honey! I'm home!"

"Nope. Try again."

Kurt's head snaps up so quickly he stutters a step, nearly tripping over his feet even though he'd already stopped walking. He glares at Sebastian from across the room as if the man had gotten up from his seat, strolled over, and, without a word, vomited rancid sushi all over his Manolo Blahniks. "What?"

In a tone reminiscent of one his NYADA dance teacher, Cassie July, used that made Kurt prickle from head to toe, Sebastian says, "Try. again."

"Try what again?"

"Walking through the door."

Kurt spins around to examine the doorway, searching for clues about what he could have possibly done incorrectly. "And what, pray tell, is wrong with the way I walk through the door!?"

"Every time you come home, you say, 'Hi, honey! I'm home!'"

"Yeah, and... ?"

"It's boring. Unoriginal. It harkens back to an era of television situation comedy that had no hand in influencing our generation and, frankly, regurgitating it is beneath you and your dramatic talents."

Kurt plants his hands on his hips and gawks. What the hell happened to his boyfriend while he was away? He was only gone four hours! "Have you been rifling through my old schoolbooks again? I told you, there was no Illuminati conspiracy going on at NYADA!"

"Why don't you try something different?" Sebastian counters, neither confirming nor denying Kurt's accusation. "Something a bit more, dare I say, exotic?"

"Exotic?" Kurt scrunches his nose with distaste when he says it. Of all the words in the English language, that's one of his least favorite. "What constitutes exotic in your twisted opinion?"

"I don't know. Think of something. You're the creative, not me."

"What? I... " A dozen arguments about how he's just gotten home, how exhausted he is, how travel between here and the theater was a pain in the ass because some people still don't seem to understand what 'over the mouth AND nose' means so navigating his way through the subway was like playing a game of human Tetris with potentially infected pieces and that he's never been all that good at Tetris anyway! die on his lips. 

It would be a waste of breath.

Still, Kurt doesn't know why he indulges him, but he turns on his heel and walks back out the door. After a few seconds of deep breathing in the hall to keep from screaming bloody murder, he storms back in and brightly declares, "Buenos dias, motherfucker! Como what's up?"

Seeing as the two of them speak fluent French, Spanglish is the most exotic thing he could come up with.

Sebastian nods in stoic approval. "Better. How goes life on the apocalyptic landscape?"

"I'm not selling my body for Cocoa Krispies if that's what you're asking," Kurt quips, wondering if this is how Sebastian acts at work and how no one has put the man through a window yet, partner or not.

"So what I'm hearing is you didn't bring home Cocoa Krispies."

"Nope. Sorry."

"Bitch."

"Yeah, well... " Kurt removes his shoes and socks, then sheds his coat, his messenger bag, his slacks, and his dress shirt, carefully piling them on a chair by the front door - their staging area for decontamination. While he undresses, he eyes Sebastian, not paying him an inch of mind, sitting on what has been dubbed the convalescence corner of the sofa, dressed in a soft white tee and flannel lounge pants, his laptop open on legs covered by a quilt his mother made for him when he was ten. Sebastian knows for a fact that Kurt is undressing and yet he's not leering at him, wolf-whistling under his breath or licking his lips like he's watching an Outback Steakhouse commercial. He's simply sitting in his spot, eyes glued to his laptop screen.

And Kurt loathes it.

Sebastian's attentions have been waning more and more lately, and even though it's savagely bruising Kurt's ego, he can't blame him.

Depending on how they choose to look at things, this situation could kind of, slightly, sort of be deemed Kurt's fault.

"Thank you again for doing this," Kurt says, extending an olive branch. He's been doing this so often over the past few months, he's started buying in bulk. "I can't tell you how much you keeping your distance and staying home has put my mind at ease."

Sebastian doesn't look at him when he replies: "No sweat, babe."

"I know it was just one small cough... and the kid was wearing two masks... and a face shield... "

"Hey, like you said, no need taking any chances. Right?"

"Right," Kurt agrees. And he believes it. He believed it then and he believes it now. Had the roles been reversed, Kurt would make the sacrifice, more than willing to lock himself away for the sake of curbing this disease and keeping Sebastian healthy.

But it isn't him. 

And he feels like dirt going to work three days a week, returning to something that resembles normal knowing what Sebastian is missing out on.

"It's his mother's fault for not mentioning that her little plague rat has covid before I got stuck on the elevator with them," Sebastian says, possibly trying to make Kurt feel better even though his gaze hasn't shifted.

"But quarantining for six days longer than necessary? That's above and beyond! I mean it. You deserve a medal." 

Sebastian tosses him a wink over his shoulder but he doesn't linger, giving half-naked Kurt only a brief once over. "I got you, fam. Besides, time's up tomorrow. Then... " He thousand-yard stares in the direction of the flat screen "... it's rat-hunting season."

"It hasn't been all bad, has it?" Kurt asks guiltily as Sebastian's eyes return to his laptop. He'll admit that maybe he did go a tad overboard when he'd found out Sebastian had been exposed, banishing him to one end of the penthouse and the guest bedroom, keeping him at broom handle length for the past nineteen days. 

But they were almost in the clear! And that's the part that pisses Kurt off most. 

The disease hasn't been eradicated, but there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The theater started allowing small groups to return for socially distanced practices. That's a huge win for Kurt. Being away from Broadway and rehearsals and opening nights and curtain calls... it was becoming difficult for him to breathe.

Sebastian was on the brink of going back to the office a few days a week, too. It wasn't so much not being at the office that bothered him, but the peripherals - eating lunch at his favorite deli or hitting the gym before dinner. 

Sebastian had taken three tests after that fateful elevator incident, all of which came back negative, so he was confident everything would be alright. He was in the midst of planning his first in-person meeting, but Kurt balked, pointing out that there has been so much controversy over the accuracy of those tests. Sebastian offered to take three more if necessary, but regardless of the outcome, Kurt didn't feel it safe. And even though they had access to the vaccine (because money), being exposed, even minorly, pushed Sebastian's timetable for receiving his first dose back two weeks.

Kurt's father and stepmother have both received theirs, and Kurt was so looking forward to taking a trip to Ohio for a first hug in over a year. He's going to be damned if a four-foot-tall Petri dish ruins that for him!

But because of his paranoia, Kurt and Sebastian haven't touched, haven't kissed in two weeks. They tried the whole Skype sex thing from different rooms of the penthouse, aiming to recapture old college day thrills to boot, but it didn't work out the way they'd hoped. And even though they see each other every day, talk to one another, aggravate each other, throw popcorn and other food items at each other, Kurt misses Sebastian like the dickens. He misses his hugs, his warmth, his smell.

And yes, he misses the sex.

"Since I've been back to work, you've had the peace and privacy to watch those wacky pornos that your brother sends you."

"Yup," Sebastian says, typing something into his search bar that Kurt can't quite make out. "The wackiest."

"Didn't he say something about them being illegal in the contiguous 49 states?"

"Forty-eight. Tennessee turned itself around."

"It would be Tennessee."

"Always is."

"You probably haven't given your fleshjack a rest in two weeks," Kurt prods, worried over these short responses. 

"Mmph... mmm-hmm... "

Kurt starts circling the sofa when all he gets is a chuckle in response, curious if Sebastian is even listening to him. He comes up behind him, standing on a piece of painter's tape they'd put down to mark six feet so Kurt can peek over his shoulder.

And what he sees on Sebastian's screen makes absolutely no sense.

"What are you watching?"

"Drain clearing videos."

Kurt's eyes go wide. "Drain clearing? Wh-what does that mean?"

"This guy drives all over, and when he finds a street that's flooded, he takes out a rake, drags it through the water, and tries to find the blocked drain."

"Does he work for the city?"

"Nah. He's just some guy."

"And he's made a whole channel about... clearing drains."

"Yes, sir."

"And you're watching it?"

"It came up in my recommendations so I clicked one." Sebastian shakes his head, chuckling when stagnant grey water, punctuated by speckles of rain, turns into a whirlpool, rushing through thick iron bars embedded in the concrete and disappearing from view. "It's so satisfying."

"What on Earth were you watching before this that YouTube recommended it?"

"Car cleaning videos."

Kurt's left eyebrow slowly climbs up his forehead. "A-ha."

"Yup. I never realized how relaxing it is to watch a handsome guy Bissell Kool-Aid stains out of carpet. But now... it's my jam."

Kurt huffs, offended on behalf of himself and his own vigorous cleaning regimen. "It wasn't your jam when I was steam cleaning our throw rugs! And the curtains!"

"Yeah, well, things hit different when you're forced into isolation."

Kurt storms forward a step. But then he remembers. And he stops, foot hovering an inch past the sacred boundary that keeps him from venturing too close to infection. He teeters, determination creasing his brow while anxiety wrestles his shoulders back. All the while, a war wages inside his tired brain:

"Get him! You've been vaccinated!"

"It's only one dose!"

"He's not even sick!"

"You don't know that!"

"Yes, I do!"

"It's not worth the risk!"

"Yes... it... IS!"

"Come on!" Kurt demands, throwing himself bodily at the sofa. He grabs Sebastian's hand, a small voice screaming inside his head as if his tiny naysayer is being burned at the stake. "Come with me... NOW!"

"Where are we going?" Sebastian asks, rushing to move his computer to the side before he gets dragged off the sofa by his surprisingly strong boyfriend.

"This is an intervention."

"But you shouldn't be touching me! Or breathing my air! I have one day left!"

"You're fine! If you haven't gotten sick by now, you probably aren't going to! This is an emergency!"

"What emergency?"

"Quarantine has turned you into someone I don't recognize! Car cleaning videos? Who are you right now?"

"They're educational. It's good to learn a new skill."

Kurt barks a laugh that could shatter crystal. "Right. Like you'd ever. You'd pay highway robbery to have your ten-speed detailed!"

"Nope, because you'd do it for free."

 Kurt rolls his eyes, unwilling to entertain his boyfriend's mocking of him to ask whether or not that's code. "If you're going to ogle a man wielding a Bissell, Goddammit, it's going to be me!"

"So... are we going to clean some carpets?"

"We're going to take a shower and then have sex. A lot of sex. You're getting fucked and sucked until you're back to normal."

Sebastian snorts, delighted by his incredibly good fortune. "If you insist. But are you absolutely sure about this?"

Kurt stops short and faces Sebastian. He looks him over, making certain he doesn't seem particularly sick, and shrugs.

"We'll wear masks. Or three. I don't need to kiss you to make you cum." Kurt continues to drag Sebastian towards the bathroom as his grin grows to epic proportions.

"Kinky."

[lapis-arts]

The Knife of Amphibia

Chapter 2: Prison Escape

Summary: Months had passed since Anne's arrest. After putting up with mistreatment and retaining her innocence, she finally thinks about breaking out of prison... Little did she know, someone is willing to help her out.

Fandom: Amphibia

Features: Assassin AU, Aged Up Anne and Plantars

Warnings: Violence, blood, interrogation

Word Count: 1,807 Words

--

Anne woke up in her dingy cell that morning. Her body had ached all over from sleeping in the prison’s horrible conditions for the last few months.

Lady Olivia was nowhere to be found to hear her out, having to replace the king's duty to restore order in the city, lest it burned down completely. She had told General Yunan what happened word for word since day one, but it all fell upon deaf ears. All Yunan wanted was for Anne to confess to the murder and she might get life in prison. She wasn't going to, though. She knew what happened, her story stayed consistent throughout the months, so she stood her ground and retained her innocence.

It had felt like today was the final day of her life as guards came to her cell and dragged her to the torture chambers once more, strapped down into the chair for the torturer to do as Yunan ordered. The tall and hulking toad burned Anne repeatedly with a red-hot iron rod, the human crying out in pain, the general trying once again to force a confession. A few burns later, Yunan finally stepped in.

"Ok, ok, that's enough!" She said, motioning for the torturer to leave them alone. Anne growled as the woman got closer and spat in her direction.

"I already told you everything that happened... Why won't you listen to me!?" She hissed. Yunan just gave her a grin as she walked up to Anne and placed a hand on her chin to make her look up at her. "Oh, you foolish human.. It was part of the plan all along." Yunan said, about to reveal her hand to Anne.

"Wh-what?... What are you talking about?" Anne asked, clearly confused by what Yunan was telling her.

"Andrias was bound to be murdered before you and Marcy arrived earlier than noticed.. You just showed up at the wrong place at the right time. Now, I get to hit three flies with one stone." She chuckled, Anne staring wide eyed at the general in disbelief.

"You're insane..." Anne said, her brows furrowed in anger as she tried to struggle through the straps, the thick leather leaving rope burns on her skin the more she struggled to break free to beat up Yunan senseless.

"It's far too late to put up a fight, Anne. The whole kingdom believes you killed Andrias in cold blood and poor Olivia has no time to listen to your pleas. I'm in charge of your fate now.." Yunan smirked, grabbing the iron rod the torturer left in the burning fire, poking at Anne with it to get an official fake confession for the last time.

"Don't make this harder than it already is.." she threatened, burning Anne every time she refused to agree to the confession, the human stifling her cries of pain the best she could, not giving Yunan the satisfaction of hearing her pains.

After enough torment, Yunan knew the human wasn't going to give in. By that account, refusing to admit to the murder, Yunan had sentenced Anne to death by guillotine.

Anne was to be thrown back in her cell and await execution for the next few days, her body completely sore and covered in fresh and painful burns. She can't take on this abuse anymore. Anne had to get the hell out of there. She was clearly innocent based on the evidence, but a conspiracy damned it all...

Something didn't add up.. Why would Yunan kill off Andrias? Did she have something to do with the plague, or does she just want to rule Amphibia for all the glory and power? No matter what the newt's motives were, Anne needed to get out or her head will be rolling from the chopping block this weekend no matter what. For now, all she wanted to do was rest and slumped into a corner of her cell to sleep the afternoon away.

---

Later that evening, Anne woke up from the sound of a guard rattling the bars of her cell, signifying that it's dinner time already.

"You should eat up, Anne. This meal is from a friend." Is all the guard said, leaving rather quickly. A friend, was it? The human made her way over to the food tray, seeing a bowl of soup as usual, but it was actually warm and fresh this time. As she pulled the bowl away, she noticed a folded piece of paper in tact. She nearly tossed meal aside and quickly opened it, a small key falling out on her lap, yet revealed a handwritten note directed to her, and she couldn't be more relieved to recognize it was Lady Olivia's handwriting in particular.

"Hello Anne. I apologize for my absence, but I know for a fact you are innocent. I've pestered Yunan to extend your trial, but she's too over her head for reasoning and I have no time on my hands to continue doing so. Take this key, escape your cell and take refuge into the sewers."

Anne wasted no time at that point. She looked out the bars of her cell to check for no guards doing rounds, and slipped the key into the cell lock and got out. To her convenience, it seems like the guard who gave her the note left a sword on top of one of their tables, Anne gladly took it and fled the area. The human stuck close to the walls, peeking over the corners to make sure no guards were in sight. In some parts of the prison, Anne had to stick to the pipes and vents near the ceiling to avoid the guards scattered across a room. Never had she been more grateful to endure Marcy's stealth training, as it came quite in handy until she reached the exit point.

Just outside of the entrance gate was the river that surrounded the prison. If she could find a way out, she could easily dive and swim to the sewer entrance on the other side. Unfortunately, in order to do that, she had to get through the guards. Anne evaded the guards doing rounds, sticking to the shadows and hiding behind storage containers. She managed to slip through a broken window the entry office hadn't fixed yet, seeing a newt guard yawning while he was writing something down. Anne couldn't take any chances and neutralized him, putting him in a chokehold until he passed out.

"Sorry.." she muttered under her breath, quickly traversing to the next room, taking down whoever was there. Next to the window was a control panel, a lever off to the side labeled "Gate."

Bingo, her one way ticket out of here.

She quickly pulled the lever and waited for the gate to open, slipping out through the back door. All the guards turned their attention towards the gate, puzzled as to why it was opening. Once the moment was right, Anne sprinted as fast as she could towards the exit, shoving guards aside as they got in her way.

"Sound the alarm!!" A guard yelled, a couple of officers running towards the nearest alarm, hastily ringing the series of bells.

"Shit!" Anne growled as she heard the alarms ring out, pushing herself even faster towards the ledge. Near the edge of barbed wire fence were the watch towers by the lifted bridge, the prison guards hearing the alarms and spotted Anne down below. The guards grabbed their crossbows and shot at her, Anne pulled out her sword in response, slashing a few bolts out of the way, save for one that nicked her right on the shoulder, drawing blood. Anne hissed from the sharp pain, but ignored it once she reached the ledge, and finally jumped off.

She dove down a few yards into the water, quickly swimming away. She made her way to the sewer gates just across, swiftly opening and shutting them close as she entered, finding a loose pipe and shoved the metal in between the handles of the gate, making sure no one would enter for a good moment.

Once the adrenaline rush ended, Anne took off deeper into the sewers and stopped as she was met with a locked gate. She took a step back to rest for a moment, collecting her thoughts before continuing on, processing that she actually broke out of prison.

"Oh my fucking frog.. I actually made it out.." she panted, sliding down the wall onto the floor to take a breather. After regaining herself, Anne turned to the locked gate again, trying to figure out a way around it. Off to the side of the wall, was another handwritten note, seemingly from Olivia again.

"Anne, if you made it, then congratulations! Beyond the sewers should be your exit, and familiar friendly faces should see to you after you leave through the storm drain. Good Luck"

Anne looked up the gate and saw a little crawl space, climbing up and crawled through to get to the other side. She soon heard footsteps and officer commands echo through the sewers, knowing it was the Royal Guard trying to find her. The human stuck towards hiding again, trying to avoid much conflict as she could this time around. Anne even had to endure swimming through the sewer water under bridges just avoid detection, thankfully leaving unscathed.

--

After exiting the sewers out of a storm drain, Anne finally reached above ground where she saw a familiar looking family wagon, seeing three young looking frogs keeping watch. It wasn't until she saw that unmistakable aviator hat on one of the pink frogs that she realized who it was.

The said frog with the hat turned towards the drain to see the human climbing out of it, his eyes widened in disbelief as he realized who it was and quickly hopped over to her.

"Anne! You're ok!" He said, jumping into Anne's arms and hugged her.

"Sprig! Hey buddy!" She hugged him back, embracing the moment for a bit before she placed him down as the other frogs came to see her. "Hey Polly, hey Ivy. Damn, it's been a long time." Anne said. While the sentiment was nice, they all understood they didn't have time to waste.

"We gotta get you to Wartwood! It wasn't easy for us to get past the barricade." Ivy explained, Polly brushing off the situation. "Oh please! Those guys are nothing. We can take them on if they're trouble." That statement hinting the young frogs certainly weren't going down without a fight.i

After that, the frogs quickly got Anne into the fwagon, making sure there were various hiding placing for Anne just in case someone inspected them. Sprig took the driving seat and grabbed Ol' Bessie's reigns and finally took off to make the journey to Wartwood.

[chandelier-s-notebook]

Chapter 9 Let me know if you wanna get tagged when I post new chapters in “These Streets Are Made For Walking”. @sleepysnails. Ao3 Link

————————

Even though Techno had instructed Mr. Richmon to call the cops, he didn’t even follow his own advice. Techno knew how long missing person’s cases could go on for. Besides, they knew exactly where the boys were being held, and  an investigation could potentially scare Las Nevadas into moving their location.

Techno and the Dream Team set up around Las Pizza Plaza. They did so silently, giving no indication that they were there. If they had the element of surprise, they were going to use it. Preparing to go in was stressful, and Techno could feel his hands clamming up in anticipation. There was so much that could go wrong, but also so much that could go right.

The plan was for Dream and Sapnap to go in, and make a mess of the place. It was what they did best, and served as a perfect diversion for George and Techno, who were waiting outside to call the cops on that disturbance. Hopefully after that, the cops will swarm the building, leaving the two of them to con their way in to have a little look around.

Dream and Sapnap loaded their paint guns. Confident that Las Nevadas won’t shoot them dead with actual guns, they double checked that they were wearing their Kevlar.

Techno and George were in the car eating a pizza bought from a competing chain--Puff Pies. They watched Dream and Sapnap walk in through the front door with anticipation. There’s a moment of calm when words are exchanged and a college student leaves the building, hopping into his own car and driving away. Then all hell breaks loose.

“Mother is going to hate everything about this,” George muttered. And that’s when the call gets put into dispatch.

“Where is the location of your emergency?” the dispatcher asked.

“Las Pizza Plaza, at 135 King Street. Two kids with guns just entered the premises and there are purple splatters on the windows, so I think they’re just paint guns.”

The line is silent. “This wouldn’t happen to be George Lore, would it?” they asked, like something about this situation was not clicking.

“Yes Mx.”

“Those two boys wouldn’t happen to be Dream Taken and Sapnap Halo would they?”

“Yes Mx.”

The person on the other end of the call was audibly confused. “Why are you turning them in?”

“Cause…” George trailed off. “Do your job.”

“Sending cruisers to your location. Where are you currently Mr. Lore? Anything else we should know about?”

“Parking lot. I’d like a peek around once you guys clear it out. Dream’s little brother is missing and we believe him to be inside the building.”

“And you didn’t call us earlier because?” The dispatcher dropped any and all professionalism they were trying to sustain.

“Those who get the cops to deal with their shit are cowards. Besides, it’s a distraction that will keep them in the building. I know that there are multiple warrants for their arrest.”

“There are much safer ways to go about this Mr. Lore.”

“We are dumb teenagers trying to get our little brother’s back.” George chuckled sadly. “We’re just trying to do this as quickly as possible, and if you gotta do stuff a little unconventionally, then oh well.”

“The cruisers should be pulling up to your location.”

“I can hear them, thank you.”

“Good. Please stand by for officer intervention.” Then, the line was dropped.

George pulled the phone away from his ear and made a face.

Techno snorted. “That was not the way to give that call.”

“Well the police are here now so shut up.”

Several officers set up to go in and subdue the situation in the parlour, and one cop came up to their car and asked them to roll down the window.

“Captain Craft,” Techno greeted. “Third time this month?”

“It is,” he said, unamused. “Dispatch said something about hostages?”

“Yes Captain. There’s a basement to Las Pizza Plaza where they keep storage and have a cell,” George said.

Captain Craft sent George a look. “What? I’ve been down there. Good old fashioned round of checkers while getting threatened.”

Techno whacked George across the back of the head. “Shut up.”

Dream and Sapnap were doing great.

They had barged in with no problem. The student who was working the till had panicked and called Slimecicle out from the back; all according to plan.

“Traves go home,” he said, not looking at him. He addressed the two boys next, “Let him go home. He’s not involved. Please.”

The two glanced at each other and Sapnap jerked his head towards the door. “Get out.”

Traves began to leave, hesitating for a moment when he neared the door. Glancing between the exit, and Slimecicle, he sprinted back, engulfing the other in a tight hug. Whispering in his ear, Traves spoke, "Don't die."

“I won’t.”

He then gave a final squeeze before releasing from the hug and running out of the building without looking back.

“New hire?” Dream teased.

“No,” Slimecicle shut him down. “Cousin, working for college cash.”

When Wilbur and Fundy come up from the basement, Slimecicle takes his cue to hide behind the counter. He’s the getaway driver, he only knows two things: drive and make pizza.

The four of them have a standoff, staring each other down. It seemed like they would stay like that forever, but that was soon changed. The whole room was filled with a flurry of motions, faster than what should be considered normal. Weapons were discarded after a few stray shots were fired, causing the start of a hand to hand brawl.

The door’s bell chimed. “Everybody down!”

They all pause for a second. They then scramble for their weapons. The police have their guns out; sure they’ve most likely only got their standard rubber bullets, but those things still hurt like a bitch. Granted shooting an officer is a proverbial death sentence, but defense is key. Even if they’re gonna get charged for resisting arrest, but for that they’d need to get caught.

It had barely taken twenty minutes for all four of them to be pinned to the ground, wrists trapped in zip ties.

When Captain Craft walked into the establishment, Techno and George were right behind him.

“Where would the children be?” Captain Craft asked George.

“Basement.” George ignored his friends on the floor and walked straight towards the back.

Captain Craft nodded to his colleagues and followed George. Techno was a few steps behind them, but he took a detour to the counter. “Evening Slime.”

“Hi,” Slimecicle said quietly.

“How are you doing?”

“Great.”

“You got a key?” Techno asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. Good. Come on, being agreeable will help you.”

“I make pizzas.”

“Come on Slime. Let’s go down. Need to get Tommy back.”

Slimecicle climbed out from behind the counter and followed Techno to the hidden staircase entrance built into a bookshelf in the manager’s office. They reached the hallway and Captain Craft took over. “These boys allege that there are children being held hostage in this establishment, where would they be?”

“I don’t know.”

George gets in Slimecicle’s face, blatantly ignoring the police officer. “Where are they?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t told. Just take the keys and leave me alone!” Slimecicle holds the keys out with a shaky hand, shoving them in George's furious face.

George swipes the keys and drops Slime. “You are going to take the nice Captain Craft here to Quackity’s office okay?” He turned back to the officer. “Techno and I will have a look around. There’s a key to the cell here right?”

Slimecicle nodded quickly. “Yes.”

“Good.” With that, George and his menacing persona stomp off to find the cells.

George started at the other end, and Techno stood behind him as back up while he systematically unlocked and opened doors, along the length of the hallway.

Slimecicle led Captain Craft to Quackity’s office at the end of the hall. They were busted, he was scared, and there was nothing he could do.

“Quackity, your empire has fallen,” Captain Craft said.

“Pity,” Quackity brushed off the comment. He turned off the security footage playing on the TV in the corner of the room. “My hands are clean Captain.”

Still, Captain Craft pulled out the zip ties, and Quackity presented his wrists in snide compliance. “You are under arrest, Quackity, on suspicion for three counts of conspiracy to robbery, and three counts of conspiracy to kidnapping.” He then turned to Purpled. “And you are under arrest for three counts of kidnapping, but you are likely to be tried as a minor. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court, but if you tell us where Tommy Innit is being held, I will make the courts know to lower your sentence for being cooperative.”

“Fourth door to the left of here,” Purpled blurted out.

Quackity glares at Purpled. “And you were doing so well.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You know kid, I took a chance on you. I had faith that you could do it, and instead you failed me like this.”

“I didn’t call you in!”

“Oh I know, but you could have stayed silent. Let them look, and instead they aren’t even going to waste time.” Quackity tutted in disappointment. “There’s a reason your brother doesn’t want you in the business kid. It’s because you’re bad.”

“It’s because he’s my brother,” Purpled corrected like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Ever had a family to care about?”

“Yeah. This one.”

“Fourth door to the left?” Captain Craft interrupted.

Purpled answered quickly. “Yes.”

“Why don’t you take me there?” Captain Craft asked. Everybody in that room knows he was trying to defuse the situation, but they all took the bait and stepped out into the hall. “Mr. Lore! Over here. Young Purpled has agreed to show us where the hostages are being held.”

George and Techno walk over to Captain Craft and Purpled. Both seniors glance the freshman up and down, contempt in their eyes.

“Did I do something bad?” Purpled asked, defensive.

“Did it feel good?”

“No.”

George handed Purpled the keys.

[ivarthebadbitch]

Strange things can happen

Chapter 8 summary: Ivar fucks around and finds out.

Canon divergent, everybody lives, arranged marriage AU after 4x14. Read this chapter on Ao3.

Previous chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

On Ao3: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Pairings: Ivar x OC, Ivar vs. basically everyone

Warnings: None

Word count: 3468 (big chapter this time!)

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @nukyster-blog @bae-roman @adhdnightmare (let me know if you would like to be tagged)

CHAPTER 8: And lead us not into temptation

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.”

“Have your debts been forgiven, Father Wilfred?” the boy asked.

The priest looked up warily from his prayer book. He had been reluctant to teach Ivar again after their first lesson, but under pressure from Prince Aethelwulf and his daughter Aldreda, he had little choice but agree—on the condition that Ivar was not to touch any of his books ever again, let alone eat the pages. Everyone had felt that this was a reasonable request, and so lessons had resumed.

Father Wilfred cleared his throat and continued the prayer. “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.” He crossed himself and frowned at Ivar. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The boy raised his eyebrows. He reached out, grabbed at the priest’s sleeve, and poked his finger through a hole in the fabric just below his wrist. “I think you do,” he said slyly. “I heard you had a problem with your debts, Father Wilfred. As a matter of fact, I heard you stole from the church.” He clicked his tongue. “I can help you.”

Father Wilfred scoffed and pulled away. How in God’s name had the boy heard about that? “I doubt that very much. I sinned, but the king has been gracious.”

“Of course,” Ivar nodded. “And I am sure you have done nothing since then that would cause him to regret his decision to show you mercy.”

He dabbed at the small beads of sweat forming on his forehead. It was a bluff, surely. There was absolutely no way that this boy could know that, in a moment of weakness about a month ago, he had taken a small silver bowl that had been carelessly left out on the altar after mass. Although Ecbert had pardoned him before, he wasn’t the only individual to whom he still owed money, and those others were not so forgiving. But Ivar didn’t know about that. Or did he? 

He swallowed hard. “What do you want?”

Ivar leaned in close and lowered his voice. “I want you to help me escape this place and return home to Kattegat. I promise you that the reward will make it worthwhile.”

Father Wilfred stared at him. To meddle with the family of the king bordered on treason, and was a far worse crime than stealing or gambling. As the son of Ragnar Lothbrok, Ivar would no doubt be fine if they were caught conspiring, but Father Wilfred certainly could not plead for leniency on the basis of maintaining important diplomatic ties. His head would be on a stake in the courtyard in hours. 

His jaw twitched. “How much can you give me in return?” 

Ivar told him, and his eyes widened. With that amount, he could pay off his most demanding creditors and still have enough left over to leave Wessex and begin a new life somewhere else, far from Ecbert’s reach—assuming, of course, that Ivar could actually deliver what he was promising, which was no certain thing. It was reckless and risky. But it was a way out. Perhaps God had provided for him after all.

“Is it enough?” Ivar asked nervously. For a brief moment, Father Wilfred could see the desperation in his eyes. If he didn’t agree, then the boy had told him his conspiracy for nothing. And given their first encounter, it gave him some small amount of satisfaction to watch him sweat.

“It is,” he said at last, and watched Ivar breathe a small sigh of relief.

The boy stuck out his hand and after a moment and against his better judgment, Father Wilfred reached out and shook it. “So it’s agreed, then?”

God, he was absolutely going to regret this. “Agreed.”

                                                            ***

Ivar dedicated the next two weeks to reconnaissance while Father Wilfred arranged his transportation to the nearest port and secured his spot on a boat home. He worked out the schedule of the guards that were assigned to patrol the hallway during the night. He found a suitable location to meet the priest for when he made his escape. He discovered that the gates to the villa were usually closed at sunset, except for the nights before and after a feast for one of the many Christian saints. On those nights, it was normal for carts full of food and drink to arrive and depart at all hours, and the guards tended to be more lax in their inspections. Lucky for him, one such feast was fast approaching.

The Feasts of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, as Aldreda explained to him with probably more patience than he deserved, commemorated the martyrdom of the two apostles. The main thing he took away from the whole story was that Christians had some sort of unhealthy fixation on crucifixion. Aldreda gave him a little smack on the shoulder when he told her this, but she didn’t exactly deny it. 

Since their trip to Mercia, she had been more relaxed around him and wasn’t going out of her way to avoid him any longer. By the gods, she had even kissed him. To his profound relief, nothing had happened after that and she hadn’t pressed him on it. Not that he wasn’t interested—even though she didn’t look much like the usual type of woman he liked, he found her attractive enough in her own way—but the prospect of trying and failing with a woman once again terrified him. It wasn’t even important if nobody else ever found out. He would know and she would know for certain that he wasn’t really a man, not in the way that mattered.

At any rate, he would be gone soon and then it really wouldn’t matter. He just had to sit through an exceptionally long and boring mass first. He was too on edge to nod off to sleep as he usually did during these things, so he ended up fidgeting and shuffling around in his seat until Aldreda inevitably jabbed an elbow into his ribs. 

“Ow,” he whispered, pretending she had hurt him more than she actually had. She rolled her eyes and he grinned back.

Finally, after an eternity of listening to the archbishop blather on in Latin and watching everyone else in the room but him go up to the altar to eat the bread god, it was time for the actual feast. The guards carried him to the main hall, which had been fully transformed for the banquet. The first dishes had been brought out by the servants and the wine was already flowing by the time he settled into his usual place at Aldreda’s side at the highest table, which was reserved for Ecbert’s family. Ecbert stood up and clapped his hands, gave a mercifully short blessing, and the feast began in earnest.

Ivar cast his gaze around the hall in what he hoped was a casual manner, until he finally spotted Father Wilfred on the far side of the room. When he caught the priest’s eye, he gave him a cheerful little wave. Father Wilfred immediately looked away. As long as the miserable little priest wasn’t planning to betray him, that was fine. Now it was time to set the next part of his plan in motion.

A servant came by with a wine jug, and he held out his cup. After the girl had filled his cup, he gestured for her to fill Aldreda’s next. “To my wife,” he said, and clinked his cup against hers. Aldreda blushed and took a long sip.

He made sure to keep her cup full throughout the feast. Though she was not a particularly small woman, she was no match for him when it came to holding her liquor. She soon grew tipsy and then somewhat more than tipsy. By the point she nearly fell backwards out of her chair, he decided he had gone far enough. The banquet was winding down anyway; the hall was already half empty and the servants were busy carting empty platters back to the kitchen and mopping up spilled food and drink.

With a word to the ever-present guards, one man draped Ivar’s arm across his shoulder and levered him up while the other offered Aldreda a hand and steadied her when she stumbled. Ivar felt a sudden surge of frustration as he watched. He was her husband and that was supposed to be his job, if only...

“Ivar?” Aldreda asked him woozily. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he lied. “Let’s go to bed.”

They finally made their way back to their room, albeit more slowly than usual. Aldreda stumbled to the bed and sat down heavily beside him, hiccuping and then giggling at her own hiccups. She fumbled a little while undoing the buttons on the front of her dress, and Ivar waved away the servant who stepped forward to help her. “You can leave us,” he said. “I’ll take care of her.”

Once the servant was gone, he took over the task of helping her out of her dress, letting down her hair, and unclasping her necklace. “I don’t know why, but I think you wanted to get me drunk tonight,” she accused him, words slurring together. She giggled again and bunched the fabric of her shift between her fingers. “Are you trying to seduce me? Do you think that if you give a lady enough wine, you can get her to do whatever you want?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, unable to stop himself from blushing. He hoped he could hide her necklace before she noticed, but she stood up, crossed the room on unsteady feet, and dropped it on top of the dressing table where she usually kept it. Then she plopped back down on the bed and watched as he undressed. For the first time in weeks, he suddenly felt shy around her. 

“You could try, if you want,” she said. “To seduce me, I mean. I wouldn’t mind. We’re married, after all.”

“You’re drunk,” he told her bluntly as he set aside his shirt. He didn’t think she was mocking him, but he couldn’t quite believe she actually meant it either. At any rate, her timing couldn’t have been worse. “And you know I can’t do that.” 

His words came out more harshly than he had intended, and she winced. “I meant no offense,” she said.

He sighed. “I know you didn’t.”

They didn’t talk after that. Aldreda turned on her side, facing away from him. Before long, he heard her breathing grow slow and steady. He lay on his back, wide awake, and watched the shadows move across the ceiling. There was nothing he could do now except wait until Father Wilfred was ready for him, but his mind was already racing ahead to the next thing. By evening the next day, he would be on a boat headed home. He could already picture the approach to Kattegat and the curious crowd gathered on the dock, with his parents and brothers at the front waiting for him...

The bells rang. It was exactly one hour after midnight. With his heart thumping in his chest, Ivar slid out of bed as quietly as he could and started to get dressed. Usually, he would just scatter his clothes on the ground and let a servant pick them up for him later, but tonight, he had been careful to keep everything he needed in a neat pile so he wouldn’t waste time fumbling around. As he pulled on his boots and laced up the leather braces he wore around his legs, he listened to Aldreda snoring faintly on the bed. She was normally a heavy sleeper anyway, but with all the wine he had plied her with, he felt certain she would not wake.

Once he was fully dressed, he crawled over to the dressing table she had left her necklace on top of. Ivar suddenly realized that it was just out of his reach while he was on his hands and knees. He let out a quiet curse as he gripped the edges of the table and painstakingly pulled himself to his feet. 

Aldreda shifted in bed and he froze, his legs trembling underneath him as he tried to keep his balance. “Ivar?” she asked sleepily. 

“Go back to sleep,” he told her. He could feel the table starting to tip and he threw all his weight forward to prevent it—and himself—from crashing to the floor. He had prepared an excuse in case Aldreda woke while he was getting dressed or leaving, but it would be a little more difficult to explain to her that he had inadvertently knocked over her dressing table while trying to steal her mother’s necklace as a bribe for his escape attempt.

“Mm,” she answered. She rolled over and her breathing slowed once again, and Ivar let out a silent sigh of relief. He quickly snatched the necklace, lowered himself back down to the floor, and shoved it into his pocket before he could change his mind. It’s just a necklace, he lied to himself. Her father can get her another one.

He knew he couldn’t linger any longer. The guard that patrolled the hall outside their room would be changing soon, and he had to time it so that he left while the hallway was clear and before the next set of guards arrived. He crawled to the door and strained his ears, listening to the faint murmur of voices on the other side. An eternity passed before he finally heard them walking away.

Ivar exhaled slowly and waited another moment. He cast one final look back at Aldreda before reaching up to grab the handle and tentatively pushing the door open.

The hallway was empty. The next set of guards was late, no doubt caught up in the aftermath of the feast. He silently thanked the gods, dragged himself into the hall, and carefully shut the door behind him, checking again to make sure he hadn’t been seen. Then he made his way as quietly and as quickly as he could to the meeting place he had chosen with Father Wilfred. 

The priest was already waiting for him inside the rarely-used storage room down the hall, tapping his foot impatiently as Ivar crawled inside. “You’re late,” Father Wilfred snapped. The man looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and he kept anxiously glancing over his shoulder even though it was just the two of them in the room. He held out his hand. “I want what you promised me.”

“Fine.” Ivar took the necklace out of his pocket and reluctantly handed it over. The priest held it in his hands for a moment as though weighing it, and then he stuffed it down his shirt. They both knew there would be no going back for either of them after this. 

“Cover yourself,” the priest ordered, tossing Ivar a large, dirty blanket in return. After Ivar wrapped himself in the blanket and covered his head, Father Wilfred picked him up with a grunt and slung him over his shoulder, staggering under his weight.

“Really?” Ivar groaned as Father Wilfred started walking. It would be extremely obvious to anybody they passed that the priest was carrying a body, blanket or no blanket. “This is the best disguise you could come up with? We’re going to get caught.”

“We will definitely get caught if you keep talking,” Father Wilfred whispered back. “And if you had a better idea for a disguise, you should’ve told me. You’re the most recognizable person in this entire palace!”

“That’s not my fault,” Ivar said, but he shut up after that. From inside the blanket, he had no clue which direction Father Wilfred was taking him, and for a moment, he wondered if he had horribly misjudged the man. The priest could be taking him straight to Aethelwulf to tell him everything. Then they’d toss him in the dungeon and leave him there for the rest of his life. He could call the man a liar, but it would be no use—after all, it was hard to come up with an innocent explanation for why he had just stolen Aldreda’s mother’s necklace and had himself wrapped in a blanket to get smuggled out of the palace.  

Fortunately for him, Father Wilfred did not take him to Aethelwulf. After a considerable amount of huffing and puffing and Ivar repeatedly banging his chin into the priest’s back as he went down some stairs, Father Wilfred finally paused, dumped Ivar on the ground, and pulled the blanket off his head. 

Ivar blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. They had ended up on the grounds just outside the kitchen, behind a cart full of wine barrels. Father Wilfred was saying a few words to a burly man that Ivar assumed was the owner of the cart. Then he turned back to Ivar and gestured to an empty barrel that was lying on its side. “In you go,” he said. “Everything has been arranged. My friend here will take you directly to the closest port and the boat to Kattegat.”

Ivar looked dubiously at the inside of the empty barrel. It seemed far too small. “You can’t be serious,” he complained, but after a moment he scooted inside and discovered that it was indeed a very tight fit. His joints protested as he tried to fold his legs in closer to his body in a hopeless attempt to get comfortable. The wood reeked of wine and it made him slightly nauseous. 

Once he was in, Father Wilfred and the other man turned the barrel upright and lifted it onto the cart. Ivar looked up to see the priest staring down at him with a thoroughly annoyed expression on his face. It occurred to him that he was unlikely to see Father Wilfred after this. He opened his mouth to speak.

“I hope I never see you again in my life,” Father Wilfred said before he could say anything. Then he jammed down the lid and left Ivar in almost complete darkness.

He waited there for what felt like years. Finally, the cart began to move. He gritted his teeth as they hit seemingly every pothole in the road and he attempted without success to find a better position for his cramped legs. With the lid on the barrel, the smell of stale alcohol was nearly overwhelming and he could hardly keep himself from retching. 

His adrenaline had kept him going all night, but as the cart rattled on through the darkness he finally felt himself growing sleepy. Despite the discomfort of being squeezed into a barrel, he ended up dozing intermittently and then jolting awake whenever the cart hit a rough patch. After the first few times this happened, he found himself longing for the soft sheets and down-filled pillows on Aldreda’s bed, and the gentle warmth of the sunlight hitting his face in the morning, and lying there half-awake until finally Aldreda yawned and nudged him to get up…

Gods, what was wrong with him? He had left all of that behind. He tried instead to think about home, and everything he was going to do when he made it back to Kattegat—assuming his mother ever let him out of her sight again. But he would wear her down eventually. He always did.

After a long while, he could hear the birds starting to chirp, and around the edges of the lid, there was the faintest hint of light. He inhaled deeply, trying in vain to pick up the smell of salty air over the stench of old wine. Father Wilfred had told him it would be a day’s journey to reach the port by cart, but perhaps he had overestimated it. They might be there sooner. 

The cart came to an abrupt halt. Ivar heard men talking and then the sound of somebody climbing onto the back of the cart. His heart beat faster. Perhaps the cart driver had decided they were far enough away from the royal villa and it was safe to let him out. Or maybe they had already arrived. Once he was on the boat, nothing—barring another storm or some other intervention of the gods—would keep him from making it home to Kattegat.

The top of the barrel was suddenly wrenched open. Ivar blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light only to find Aethelwulf glaring down at him. His father-in-law’s face was red with fury.

[mirrorhunt]

I’ve got red in my ledger

betrayal | misunderstanding | broken nose

It's another late night, and Raffi has a talk with Rios

Raffi tries to choose. Bourbon or whiskey? Not that that matters. She’ll be drunk by the end of the first bottle both ways. Seven would say bourbon, Rios would prefer his hell-drink that's closer to Romulan ale than anything that could’ve been made on Earth. Besides, it smells like panettone she once made long-long ago. 

Bourbon it is. Raffi selects a combination and waits for her bottle. It’s late. Everyone with less demons than she has is asleep. She knows Seven is with Picard, giving him a lecture about his snapping at Soji today. Elnor and Soji are in their cabins. Agnes was having a headache and retired before dinner. That’s left Rios. And she has no idea where he was. She thinks she saw him in the morning while she was waiting for Picard to hurry up with his tea, but not after. Not once. She doesn’t remember there being trouble with the ship, but she wasn’t really paying attention to whatever Enoch was saying, left on the bridge alone. 

And, speaking of the devil, Rios appears. He has a smudge of something dark on his face, and he’s rubbing his hands off the rag. 

“Where were you hiding? La Sirena is not that big of a ship,” asks Raffi, pointing on the two-stories deck. 

“What? Oh, in the tubes. There was a leak in the cooling system, so I had to take a look,” he says dismissively, still trying to rub the grease off. 

“And it took you all day?” 

“Wha… What time is it?” frowns Cris, finally letting go of the rag. 

“It’s almost midnight,” shrugs Raffi, unscrewing the bottle. 

“Shit”, he throws the rag on the table, eyeing Raffi’s bottle. “Did something happen while I was there?”

Raffi shrugs. 

“Picard yelled at Soji for some bullshit, Seven’s dealing with him, kids went to sleep, and Agnes had a headache,” summarizes the day Raffi, taking a drink. 

“Shit,” repeats Cris, sighing. “I’ll ask Agnes in the morning. Is Soji alright?”

“Oh, she’d almost bitten his head off, she’ll be fine. I gave her some ice cream and it snapped her out of her murderous rampage,” Raffi waves her hand dismissively. 

“Good job,” says Cris, relaxing and ordering some dinner for himself. 

Raffi drinks while he eats, they both silent, Cris probably because he’s tired and she… Well, she’s just on the “don’t talk to me” stage right now. 

“Wanna go to the bridge?” suggests Cris, disposing of his plate. “I need to check out if I’ve done it right.”

“Yeah, sure,” agrees Raffi, hardly remembering when it was just them talking. With so many people on board, it was close to impossible to find a moment for just two of them. She doesn’t really want to talk, but with Cris it has always been easy to be quiet. They both have their own history and no one wants to pry on the pain of the other, apart when it’s necessary. Or when Raffi’s curiosity takes better of her. 

That first year when Cris got La Sirena, was fun. She teased him halfheartedly every time he called her, hearing loneliness in his voice. He’ll never say this, but he missed the ‘Fleet’s comradery. She knows, because she missed it too. It wasn’t so much for exciting adventures, going to where no one has gone before or whatever, but the crew. That feeling of belonging, of family, being surrounded by people who care if you live or die. It makes her want to live. And, remembering how the First Officer of Ibn Majid was with his crewmates that time she met him, he was the same. 

Maybe that’s why they get each other. Why they stick together. They both were betrayed by Starfleet for different reasons, and now the people, for whom they once would die for, who once were their family, hate them. 

She thinks back to the time when Picard contacted her and asked for a civilian pilot. She knew a ton of them, sure, but could think only of Cris. She knew Cris and Picard had a lot in common, and hoped it’ll do Rios good to talk with someone like JL. She just didn’t think Picard would bring a small army with him. Probably Cris needs to design his own uniform now. With hats and feathers. 

“No,” shakes his head Cris. Raffi frowns. “I said you then and I’m saying it now – no uniform.”

Oh. She must’ve talked out loud. Oh well.

“But that’s not a rejection of hats,” points out Raffi, sipping from the bottle. “You do look great in hats.”

“No hats.”

“Boring,” sighs Raffi, looking at the holo-screens. ETA is still two days away. She hates long journeys. 

Cris ignores her, checking whatever it was from his captain chair. Raffi takes another swing. 

“So why did Picard yell at the kid? What’s his problem this time?” says Rios, still going through his holo-screen. 

“Something about her still not trusting him,” Raffi winces, remembering the look on Soji’s face. The kid has her reasons not to trust them. She was fooled her whole life, even about who she really was. It’s natural. But Jl got used to people trusting him without a question just because he’s Picard. And he betrayed those people too. So what’s his problem with one more person not trusting him? 

“Well, maybe he should take his ass from his head,” Cris shakes his head. Raffi snorts. “What?”

“I thought I was the drunk one.”

Cris looks confused. Then, understanding, he gives her a half-smile and looks like he would throw something on her if there was anything nearby. He wouldn’t throw his cigar cutter, and definitely not cigars. So Raffi just snickers with mirth.

“And Agnes?” Cris drops the subject, and Raffi knows that he will check on Soji in the morning. He loves the kid, and she can’t blame him, especially knowing now what happened on Ibn Majid. 

“She’s fine. Emil told that she was just tired and needed to drink more water and rest. I ordered her to go to sleep.”

“You? Ordered her?”

“She loves orders,” Raffi huffs, and Cris sends her a warning glare. She ignores him. “I can understand now why you like her that much.”

“What does that mean?” Cris shifts in his chair. Raffi knows it means “run for your life”, but again, ignores him. She has almost a full bottle of bourbon inside of her, she has no self-defense mechanism. 

“Well, you didn’t look at her twice when she first came on board. Just a cute little doctor, who bit off more than she could chew. Who knew she would be a Romulan spy.”

Cris says nothing. Raffi drinks the rest and puts the bottle down. 

“I…” Cris’ voice is hoarse, like he wants to defend himself, but has no argument against her accusations. 

“I mean, she became so brave and found her voice right after Maddox died. Her friend as we thought back then. She barely cried, poor thing, and I thought, huh, the kid is more broken than I thought. Who knew she killed him in cold blood while we were thinking she was so naïve and too good to be there with all of us. But no. Little Agnes appeared to be right where she needed to be. With people who everyone thinks betrayed them. But the thing is – we know we didn’t betray them. And she did betray us.”

“Stop it,” almost growls Cris. Raffi laughs cruelly. 

“A Romulan spy on your ship and in your bed. That’s funny. And I thought she was an interesting choice, knowing about your Marquisa and that Iotian, Ledger, yeah? You must’ve felt she wasn’t so innocent then. I always thought your taste in women will kill you sometime. But, I think, now that that weird-ass crystal is out of her system, you’re probably safe.”

“Why are you so wound up about this?” asks Cris incredulously and hurt. 

“She almost killed us all! She wanted to leave the kids and JL to the Romulans!” Raffi is just about to scream with frustration. She had been thinking about that day for a long time. 

“She was scared!” 

“Yeah. So scared, she wouldn’t just tell us. Like we wouldn’t help her,” Raffi’s hands are itching to squeeze the bottle now.

Cris is silent for a moment. Raffi crosses her arms and buries deeper in the chair. 

“Maybe it was my fault,” sighs Rios, and Raffi takes pity on him. 

“It was Oh’s fault and her fanatic ideas. How could this be your fault?”

“I… I told her something that maybe guilt tripped her,” says Cris. Raffi turns to face him. 

“And what could’ve you possibly said to her to trigger… that reaction?” Raffi points her head towards the sickbay. 

“Well… I… Uh…” Cris shoots her a guilty look, and Raffi frowns. 

“What is it?”

She had never seen Cris so uncomfortable. Not even before that stupid undercover mission on Freecloud in that ridiculous suit that he somehow had pulled off. 

Suddenly she remembers something. Something she dismissed at times, thinking Cris was just stressed and trying to make weird jokes.

“You thought I was a spy?” calmly asks Raffi despite a storm of too well known emotions rising up in her.

 “Raffi...” sighs Rios, but Raffi stops him with her hand.

“You thought I would put you in danger? You, Elnor, and JL? Because, what? I had a couple of conspiracy theories? About how Romulans were planning to kill us all? That’s why I would’ve helped them?” Raffi almost hisses in anger. Who does he think she is?!

“You were out on Freecloud, alone, not planning to come back, and then you changed your mind! We had a Romulan tail, and we knew that the snakehead was trying to track us down to find Picard and Soji, what could I think?” shouts Cris, standing up. Raffi follows him. 

“Well, if you remembered that I told you that I had a son and was meeting with him, maybe you would think better that time!”

“Yeah, and maybe there was no son. Maybe it was just a catch,” coldly says Rios, and a chill runs down Raffi’s spine. 

“Why would I lie about him?!”

“Well, you tell me, ex-Intelligence agent Raffaela Musicer.”

Raffi swings her hand. One second, and Rios stumbles backwards, grunting in pain and holding his nose. 

“Son of a bitch,” hisses Raffi, stomping away and trying to hold her tears at bay.

“What is the nature of your emergency?” she hears behind her and grits her teeth. Rios doesn’t deserve the treatment. She wants him to hurt like she is hurting. 

“What is this about?” 

Oh, great. Just what she needs. Picard and his holier than thou attitude. 

“Raffi?” and Seven is with him. Damn it. 

Raffi holds a hand up, going past them as quickly as she can. She’ll be safe in her cabin. She can have another bottle there. 

[sambinnie]

1. Happy Mabon! Every autumn, I forget that the darkness comes clanging down in a great rush in the mornings. One day, I am greeted by a pinking sunrise. 48 hours later, it’s so dark on my run to the river that I have to stop a passing runner and check the time, in case my disturbed sleep sent me dressing and leaving the house at 2am. This summer may not have given us those mornings where it’s so hot I can barely get out of the water, where those early hours feel like full silent days carved out just for me to sit in the light and wait for everyone else to wake up, where the only extra thing I put on to run home is my trainers — I look at my waiting winter gear, neoprene socks and gloves, head torch, two more thickening jumpers, hat, thermal mittens — but every season, every day, is beautiful.

Today we go early for celebrations, and the water is silky, and Orion hangs over us with his phallic sword dangling and Betelgeuse winking on one shoulder. The near-full moon spotlights us and I feel almost ready for the shortening days.

2. Hilary Mantel continues to be a literary god. How does she write with that clarity? How can I ever speak with her calm good sense and wit? 

3. We have two main problems at the moment, as far as I can see. a) What we’re doing (“curating” our lives; twitter spats; purity spirals; division and isolation; wanting ‘debates’ that can only be won or lost; encouraging people to buy more things; trying to buy our happiness; letting marketers tell us how we feel about the world rather than encouraging major moral lessons from throughout the ages to challenge us on our weaknesses; refusing to accept that life is suffering; asking self-care to be a plaster for everything we don’t have) and b) what we’re not doing (joining together to stand against those with more money and power; protecting the people who have even less power and voice than we do as a matter of course; learning from history; protecting nature above all else; prioritising going for walks; learning to repair things and campaigning to make things repairable; having a basic belief in human dignity for all, not just those with whom we agree; accepting that truly, we are all different and no amount of shaming or disgust will change that; working to shape our societies, culture, economies, production, food supplies and communications around improving — not just sustaining — the air, water and land, and fighting to ensure all of those new shapes protect women and children).

Individualism has morphed into something so completely self-destructive that we’ve forgotten we need nature more than anything — literally, more than anything — and we need to unionise and unite and put aside differences and work together even with people we don’t like. 

Because when there are wicked people in power, when it’s genuinely exhausting to think about all the corrupt, venal, toxic, divisive, false, and cruel things they have done since coming to power, those people love to watch everyone below pointing their fingers at one another, saying, You, You’re The Enemy, You’re The Problem, while corrupt populist leaders rub their bellies and chuckle at another promise broken, another mass death on their hands, another building site on a protected forest. Do you understand the stakes here? Do you understand that it’s actual survival? It’s not about being right any more, it’s not about besting someone in the argument. It’s about having decision makers who can not only ensure there is still food to eat and air to breathe, but that relations both within a country and between countries are built on care, and support, and compassion, and believing in human dignity. And while it sounds wishy-washy and hands-clappy it’s the schmaltzy, sentimental truth. It’s the only one, really. 

If we instead continue to believe every single day that my feelings are the most important, that my beliefs are the right ones, that I’ve got to prove those baddies there are evil and awful and wrong, then honestly, what the fuck? If we’re happy to live in a country where hostile architecture is the starting point for all public builds, where we send refugee boats away from our shores, where affiliate links are a career goal, where we haven’t stormed the Daily Mail offices with accounts of all our lovely immigrant friends and family and had a huge feast together and compared our long and tangled family trees, then come on. It’s only a race to the bottom if we all keep running. 

Because, pressingly, whatever the spark of a major global conflict — assassination, fuel shortages, hyperinflation, invasion — the kindling is almost always a populace fed pure hatred for months, for years, until they can’t even taste it anymore but are ready to spew it out again, and are ready to use another populace as the receptacle. And hatred is brewed up in silence and isolation, and in the ashes of bridges burned between disparate groups. 

And on that note, I’m not a conspiracy theorist, mainly because I don’t believe governments are generally competent enough to manage Grand Plans, but it’s annoying that technology and social trends and culture have developed in such a way that no one knocks on anyone’s door for a chat as a matter of course now, that it’s a given that a ringing phone triggers anxiety, that it’s not the norm for cups of tea with your neighbours, that we don’t know each other’s neighbourhoods, that we don’t even talk on the phone, with live words and intonation and synchronised laughter, but in text, in WhatsApp chats, in tapped out words and symbols that we know can be screen-grabbed and misinterpreted, that we know are kept, filtered and sold by the tech companies. It’s not a conspiracy. It’s just a reality that every single one of us can choose to do differently. 

Sometimes exactly the right thing comes along at the right time. All of us here watched About a Boy at the weekend, a film which is so wonkily weighted and oddly rhythmed, but a perfect depiction of everything I’m banging on about here. Hugh Grant’s character likes being alone. He’s happy that way. It suits him. It’s his choice. Then, between one thing and another, he finds himself drawn into a world of a suicidal single mother, a duck-murdering young boy, more single mothers, more tricky teens, plus exes and mothers-in-law and awkward support groups. And it turns out that actually, being with people is better. Being uncomfortable often develops you as a person. Constantly prioritising only yourself produces a waxen, pointless baby. Making shared sacrifices might just be the point of being alive. Remember that to be human is to be flawed. That no one is ever completely right, and no one is ever completely wrong. That the boring stuff makes us feel good, and the glossy stuff, if all we strive for is gloss, doesn’t. 

If you want anything practical, here are the things that have really helped me over the last few years:

Writing a letter or email regularly to my MP, to CEOs of organisations, to anyone I want to communicate my strong feelings and how I’d like things to be done better. Tweeting eats your soul. It’s a horrible myth the media pretends is important. It really, really isn’t.

Inviting people to go in front of me in queues, in traffic, getting on to buses and trains. It lowers my stress levels right down.

Learning the names of my neighbours and people I meet regularly on walks and letting them learn mine. (I definitely haven’t just decided I loathe a neighbour because they cut a bird-hatching tree down in their garden on the last day of the year it was legal to do so. It’s fine.)

Joining a few political parties, and the closest thing I have to a union

Making something, anything — everything can be done with love, and learning to not get sucked into the capitalist conceit of having to make it perfect, sellable, exhibitable is a genuine gift to yourself; making a cake or a film or a coaster and not putting it on social media, letting it be ugly or serviceless and loving it anyway. I felt extremely overwhelmed the other evening, but instead of doom-scrolling I knitted a… I don’t know, something flat and woollen, and it helped to have my hands and eyes working on directionless introspective creation. 

Trying to stop hating. Every time I want to tell a negative story in my head about someone, I attempt to turn it into something positive: how unhappy that person must be, what they must be missing out on. It’s so nauseatingly Pollyanna-ish, and of course it isn’t always successful, and of course every single day brings a hundred thousand examples of cruelty and injustice and wickedness, but the alternative only makes my life feel worse, so why would I indulge that? 

Teaching myself the names of birds, trees, flowers, clouds and constellations. I’m still at the most basic levels on all of these, but the difference one feels in the world when you can name things  — let alone use them and know their stories — is a very real sort of magic. (For that reason I hope to read this book very soon.) This episode of The Cut is also good on the wonder and power of learning the names of the weeds that grow in your nearest pavement crack. 

4. Creating anything is always a gamble, isn’t it, but writing a book you actually like for once and seeing it slowly and beautifully sink to the bottom of a river never to be seen again is ever so slightly crushing. However, it turns out even Thom Yorke feels that way, so I am comforted. 

5. I’m sure I’ve mentioned plenty of these before, but if you want some suggestions of where to find joy, here are my favourites from the last year or so:

I was given Lucy Easthope’s book, When the Dust Settles, for work recently, and I was surprised and delighted to discover the most uplifting, hopeful, human and rightfully angry book I’ve read in a long time. Do yourself a favour and preorder it. I bought this other book for my own birthday, gave it to a housemate to give to me, forgot about it, and was delighted to later unwrap He Used Thought As A Wife. Laughed a lot, cried twice. Marvellous. 

Now even the youngest housemate here can recite John Finnemore sketches and sing the songs. Has also taught them various composers, gods, logical fallacies and gothic story tropes. Also v funny. Oh, Kate Beaton! Her two books (Hark! A Vagrant and Step Aside Pops) are a bit like a comic-book version of Finnemore, but swearier and sexier and utterly unsuitable for all the housemates who have read it and been educated about the Brontes, Katherine Sui Fun Cheung, Tom Longboat, Nancy Drew, Ida B. Wells, Sacagawea, and the Borgias. 

Had to give Inside a restraining order against me for the sake of us all, but Bo Burnham’s Eighth Grade is a masterpiece of writing, acting, sound design and optimism. Spy is dumb action comedy polished to perfection, and Yasujirō Ozu’s Good Morning seems like the inspiration for almost all US arthouse films since 1990, and is also beautiful, funny, thoughtful, and good. 

Taylor Swift’s Evermore, like all brilliant albums, isn’t completely perfect. But most of the songs are. And Hole’s classic Live Through This is still just ideal for turning up very, very loud after a tricky day, for the enjoyment of any neighbours who may have hacked down a bird-friendly tree on the last day of February. 

Watched both series of Liam Williams’ Ladhood when I had a week off this summer, and really relished the location, the intention, and the writing. More please. 

Miles Jupp and Justin Edwards continue to be my comforting bedtime listening in In and Out of the Kitchen. Has it ruined Nigel Slater for me? Well, a bit, but no more than any of us deserved. 

I thought this would be a book I’d mumble through the first chapter of, then let get buried in my To Read pile, never to re-open. Instead, I found Whatever Happened to Margo? laugh-out-loud funny, drily written, and full of humanity. Excellent Women has made me want to read everything written by Barbara Pym, a goal I am slowly but surely working towards. 

6. I’ve spent the last few years trying to find hazelnut trees, and finally found a copse between a car park and a play area, full of nuts the squirrels hadn’t noticed. Now I’ve found them, the spell has been cast and I see hazel trees everywhere, on walks and on pavements and running along motorway slip roads. A tray of green and brown frilled hazelnuts now dries with the laundry. They are so beautiful. 

[chimaerakitten]

(via https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2eF2BW8QhNO2UesloUNkuk?si=SfOWQO6CTQy28MPE0ndjMA)

so, now that I am officially free of both finals and my work on the TQT title sequence animation, I thought it would be a good time to turn to my other bit project for this fandom, Chi’s crazy-long chronological playlist. I started this. One week after ROTT came out. ONE WEEK. I thought I’d get it done and written up in two or three days. It is now. December the 15th. Two months. TWO MONTHS, THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS

Bellow the cut: A writeup explaining the position of each song + a little bit more commentary on it from me (spoilers. everything is spoilers all the way through ROTT below the cut):

This is a mix of some pretty typical fanplaylist fare (there is. A lot of Bastille on here) some Queen’s Thief must-haves (can you really have a Queen of Attolia playlist without Achilles Come Down?) and my own really weird music taste (Filk like Tin Soldier and Courage Knows No Bounds)

Some of the ones I’m most proud of are Monster by Starset for the Mede camp scenes in ROTT (I mean, it starts with “Under the knife I surrendered” It’s kinda perfect) Laughter Lines for Relius and Teleus (I have it on good authority that that caused a lot of heart pain for other fans) and Soft to be Strong for Irene and Relius.

without further ado, the song list:

“Eddis”—Warriors

“Thief!”—Second Child, Restless Child

The Thief

Whatever it takes—“I can steal anything”

Tin Soldier—“Nobody would mistake you for anything but a tool, Gen.”

Centuries—“His name would be carved in stone on a stele outside the basilica, and mine would be written in the dust.”

Everybody Wants To Rule the World—“He doesn’t want the queen…He just wants the pass through the mountains so that he can invade Attolia.”

Patron Saint o’ Thieves—Eugenides and the Sky God’s Thunderbolts (I will be honest. This one was chosen based on title and Vibes, tm, not lyrics)

The Only Exception—“But if there hadn’t been one that I loved, I wouldn’t have landed myself in the king’s prison.”

Thief—Before braving the temple of the Aracthus.

Come Wayward Souls—Inside the temple.

History Has Its Eyes On You—The answered prayer for silence.

The Queen and the Soldier—“You are more beautiful, Your majesty... But she is more kind.”

I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)—Walking to Eddis.

Stand By Me—“Oh, It’s you, Eugenides.”

Family—Helen, Eugenides, and the Minister of War.

“Destruction”—Dread Sovereign

The Queen of Attolia

Run Boy Run—The chase through the palace.

Icarus—Eugenides, caught.

When the Chips are Down—“I still think tradition might hold the best solution to my problems with you.”

Achilles Come Down—Eugenides, after returning to Eddis.

Heroes—The Secret War and the expectation that Eugenides will die soon.

Burn It Down—Burning Sounis’s navy.

Sit Still Look Pretty—“It was her fiancé who gave her the name shadow princess.”

Heroes and Thieves— “She pulled the bedclothes up as far as they would go and suppressed a perverse wish to have her old nurse come to chase away the darkness, perverse because she didn’t know if she wanted the shadows to be empty or not.”

Thousand Eyes—The plan to take Ephrata.

We Remain—“There’s an easier way for a man to become king,”

Black Water—“She reached up to push the wet hair out of her face, wondering when she had sunk so low that she had begun torturing boys.”

Simple Song—"I watched you walking between the rows of cabbages and then dancing under the orange trees. I was above you, in one of the trees.”

She’s Always a Woman—"Eugenides had accepted gladly and read carefully, trying to see whether Attolia could be the monster in human guise she was accused of being, or only a woman who ruled without the support of her barons.”

Queen of Peace—“Just asleep,” Eddis reassured her.”

I’m Not Calling You A Liar—“I sometimes believe his lies are the truth, but I have never mistaken his truth for a lie.”

Losing My Religion—“You made a mistake,” Attolia agreed. “You trusted your gods. That was your mistake.”

Pompeii—The vision of the volcano.

All I’ve Ever Known—“Love I am not familiar with.”

Love Love Love—"Who am I, that you should love me?

A Healing In This Night—“And she believed him.”

The King of Attolia

Bow to the Crown— “He dropped to his knees before his queen and lowered his head almost to the floor.”

Shut up and Dance—"Her queen danced like a flame in the wind”

Carry Your Throne— It was not a kiss between strangers, not even a kiss between a bride and a groom. It was a kiss between a man and his wife.”

It’s Alright—"If it was embarrassing to wake like a child screaming from a nightmare, how much more embarrassing to be the reason your husband woke screaming.”

Believer—“like a god revealed” and the fall of the house of Erondites.

I CHOOSE YOU— “He was very likable—Eddis would have married him.”

Hunger— “I did not say that I am afraid. He is, though, I think. Afraid of his own desire for power.”

Soft to Be Strong—"I have learned that there is a flaw in your philosophy. If we truly trust no one, we cannot survive.”

Gold—Eugenides on the crenellations.

True & Destined Prince—“He is an Annux, a king of kings.”

“Knife Dance”—Human

A Conspiracy of Kings

Things We Lost In The Fire—The raid on the villa.

Constellations—Sophos and Moira in the dream library.

Welcome Home, Son—“I didn’t want a choice; I wanted to stay right where I was and build walls and share poetry with an avid audience and enjoy a swim with friends, but I didn’t want it to be my choice.”

Words as Weapons— “Eugenides looked me in the eye as if I were a complete stranger and said, “The simplest way to end a war is to admit you have lost it.”

Share Your Address— “You made a proposal in your previous letter. Perhaps it was only hypothetical?” “It was not.”

I Love You—“When I was working in the fields, I knew how unfounded my hopes were,” he said. “I was a poor excuse for an heir of Sounis when I made the proposal and then became even less than that.”

Iron—“I will go to Melenze. And hope to delay the Medes long enough to find some other solution to their imperial expansion. Of course, that assumes the king and queen of Attolia intend to honor the laws of hospitality and allow me to travel safely to the border.”

Young Volcanoes—“Just what makes you think you can get away with that?” he asked the young man standing over him with a butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth expression incongruous on his scarred face.”

The Fates—Sophos’s naïve speech before the first vote.

Handmade Heaven—Shooting Hanaktos and Akretenesh, lifting a hand to the sky for a lightning bolt that will not come.

I Bet My Life—"There is no reason I can see that I would not be honored to join Eddis to you.”

Flaws—“Eddis stared at him for a long time, knowing that forgiving someone because you have to is not forgiving him at all.”

For The Dancing And The Dreaming—“Are you certain that you want to be my wife?” “Absolutely,” said Eddis, quietly. “Eternally certain.”

Blood Brothers—"He had been saved by the men Eugenides sent, though he did not yet know the ferocity with which the king of Attolia had stripped those men from other posts, the capital he had expended, the secrets that had been revealed in order to send help to Sounis.”

Thick as Thieves

I’ll Believe In Anything—"If there had been any alternative, I would have taken it, but I could see none, and there was no time for hesitation.”

You’ve Got A Friend In Me—“Head wounds bleed, but we can stitch it up, I’ve done it before, don’t be afraid. Kamet, I wouldn’t tell you this if it weren’t true. I swear to you, I am not going to leave your dead body beside the road to Perf. I didn’t come all the way to this godsforsaken cesspit so that I could go home and tell my king I failed him.”

Desert Song—Costis and Kamet crossing the empire, eating caggi.

Empire—"It would be possible, I supposed, for an outsider to see disruption and think the empire might collapse, but it was too all encompassing, too well sewn together to come apart. As each smaller nation was absorbed, it was integrated into the whole, enjoying all the benefits of being in the empire.”

Fell In Love With A Girl—Kamet’s story of Marin the dancing girl.

Foreigner’s God—Kamet’s encounter with Ennikar while Costis is in the well.

The Hell If I Go Home—Kamet trying to leave in Sukir.

Stray Italian Greyhound—“If you had told me in Sukir, I would have let you go.” / “Costis,” I said, using his name for the first time since he had told it to me, on board the riverboat at the start of our journey. “Costis, I’m sorry.”

Poet—"I began this narrative in the palace of Attolia but have only recently neared its completion. I will eventually send it to Relius, when I am sure it can be delivered without interception, and I hope he will be satisfied with my account, as I would be honored to have it added to his library.”

All This And Heaven Too—“Immakuk and Ennikar,” he said. “Where?” I snapped my head around to scan the dock, and he nudged me with his elbow. “Idiot. Us,” he said.”

Return of the Thief

How Far We’ve Come—Exordium.

The Great Escape—Pheris finding a place for himself.

The Heart Is a Muscle—“Someone loves me very much, even with all my faults”

I Will Wait—“His heart is unlikely to be in his work.”

Laughter Lines—Relius and Teleus saying goodbye.

Stole You Away—“Attolia says she leaves with you”

Poison & Wine—“I think they have to show their worst selves sometimes”

United at War—“Sounis will not run…nor Eddis.”

This is War—Arrival at Leonyla.

No Light, No Light—“All wars make men monsters, all wars and all men.”

Survivor’s Song—The Etisian winds came early.

Daniel in the Den—The ambush and the Mede Camp.

Monster—“Nahuseresh tells me I am not king. We’ll see if he really prefers the Thief.”

Natural—“Once, when I said he had saved me, you said I had saved him. From what?”

Tomorrow I Leave For Battle—Before the Naupent.

March of Cambreadth—The Naupent.

Courage Knows No Bounds—A pyre that burned for three days.

Bad Blood—The pardon of Sejanus.

Call the Names—The naming of Hector and Eugenia.

Here’s To Us—Dancing on the Roof.

I lived—Pheris, and the gods were pleased.

“Alyta’s Missing Earring”—Falling and Empire

final note: I did my best to have songs have at least one meaning in the pace they were put, plus more meaning when considering the series as a whole—for example, “Tin Soldier” appears early on in the context of the king of Sounis and the Magus using Gen as a tool, but if you loop back around to it after Return of the Thief, Gen being “weapon more than child” gains a whole new meaning. "She’s always a woman” is an Irene song in the context of QOA, but the more we learn about Helen, the more it applies to her, etc. etc. Not every song is like that, but I wanted to give the playlist at least a bit of re-listen value, in the spirit of the books’ reread value.

[angelicspaceprince]

Youtuber!Beetlejuice Headcanons

Ok so Youtuber/Gamer!Beetlejuice has hit my tumblr with a force, so I’m going to write my own set for you here. Also, your channel has a mishmash of subject ideas because I’m trying to cater to everyone. It looks super unrealistic but hey its fantasy bby!

This also didn’t end the way I wanted it to and it stops kinda abruptly, its half past 5 in the morning. I need a nap.

His channel is a MESS

There is no consistency, except for the fact that he posts every day

But every day, no one knows what they’re gonna get

And he does everything

Beej may promise that its going to be a conspiracy theory video, but then he posts a video of him eating tide pods straight from the bag with a shit eating grin on his face with the caption ‘DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME – I’M A DEAD GUY THESE WON’T HURT ME’ plastered all over the screen because he genuinely cares for his viewers

Lydia helps him with editing, Adam and Barbra help set up his recording space which is just a large corner in the attic, Delia helps him plan ideas and Charles just leaves him to it

If he ever posts an ASMR video, do not open it

It’s just a video of him screaming into the microphone and making loud noises with him cackling after each one

Cooking videos usually end with him just straight up eating stuff no one should eat

Gaming videos go between him playing horror and laughing his ass off at how bad they are to him playing Animal Crossings and just being so happy that these people are kind to him and want to spend time with him

Live streams a LOT

It annoys his mods a little bit because he doesn’t have a schedule, and he only gives them a 30 second warning so if they see it, they have to quickly jump on over to mod the comment section

People just love the chaotic energy he radiates and if you mention a video idea, he will most definitely do it by the end of the month because he just wants to try  e v e r y t h i n g

Lydia helps create merch for him so he can sell stuff. Most of the money goes to Lydia or the others in the house for helping him out, although he does save up to get better quality equipment to replace the stuff, he totally didn’t steal

If people mention about how depressed they are or if they feel disgusting but he makes them feel better, or even joked about suicide, in the live stream everything stops and he just looks down the camera and assures them that they are beautiful and deserve to live and suicide is never the way to deal with your problems, trust him, he knows

Everything just goes all serious until he has said his piece, no one is commenting and then he goes back to his happy self and is all like ‘don’t worry babes, I got ya back!’ and continues on chatting about nonsense for a while

He runs constant streams for charities that focus on mental health, it’s his one platform

He rarely accepts sponsors for his videos, he does have a patreon though

He has only accepted 3 sponsors in his time on Youtube, all of them were surrounding suicide and self-harm prevention

Offers really shitty advice but he has the spirit and means well

His followers affectionately call themselves ‘Juicey’s Babes’ which he finds hysterical

Anyone who’s been on a call with him can confirm that he is just as chaotic in real life as he is on his channel, it is not an act

But he genuinely cares and remembers everything about his followers, if one pops up on the stream chat, he will ask about their days and if the date went well with the guy from work etc.

Does do educational videos when he finds out from Lydia that sex ed in the US is pretty piss poor and that’s unacceptable! Teaches you how to put on condoms and what a clit is

Is constantly demonetised from Youtube but doesn’t give a shit

It wasn’t until someone suggested that he do a reaction video for one of your vids that he falls in love with your channel for the first time

It, too, is a mish mash of things but your schedule is a lot more constant, posting 5 days a week as a full time professional youtuber. It was exhausting but you love the work

Video game streaming or singing a cover of a song on alternate Mondays, Conspiracy videos or exploring cold cases and the supernatural on alternate Tuesdays, Cooking videos on Wednesday, general chat and educational videos on Thursday, Story Time, Crafts and Challenges on Friday with a live stream every third Saturday just talking smack

He falls in love with your channel so quick, and during the time he’s not filming or editing or whatever, he’s watching your videos

He joins your discord and talks there often

Lydia reaches out to you to ask if you’d do a collab with Beetlejuice and you agree, loving him on your discord chat and also the few videos you’ve seen

You agree to do a live reaction to the most recent Buzzfeed Unsolved video that was coming out that Saturday for your live stream, and that for his next gaming video you’d join in and play Animal Crossing with him

Beetlejuice is SO nervous when it comes to that Saturday, he really wants to impress you and not embarrass himself

It goes so well, people are commenting about what a good duo the two of you make as you crack jokes with one another, and even after the streaming finishes, you end up video chatting on your private discord for the rest of the afternoon

The gaming stream goes even better, having known each other a little better now and having found your rhythm which lead to a better stream

Suddenly, the two of you were doing collabs at least once a month, and Beetlejuice could feel himself falling hard for you

The two of you spoke nearly every day on Discord, mostly doing it via video or voice chat so you didn’t waste time typing

If either of you ended up on each other’s livestreams on Twitch or Youtube, everyone is a flurry because you end up joking with each other through the comments and its always fun to watch the two of you banter

Definitely have a few people ‘ship’ you and Beetlejuice is confused because what’s a ship?

Eventually, you get offered to go to Vidcon and when you told Beetlejuice, he revealed he did too but he wasn’t sure if he was gonna go

You say that’s a shame because you were really looking forward to officially meeting him and that Changed His Mind Quick Smart

There was so much prep that was going into Vidcon, you both agreed to do your stream there and just do bits of behind the scenes filming together

You both knew what you looked like and both knew you got along, but both of you were nervous the closer the day arrived

End up doing a panel together and that’s when you first meet, mostly because you were running super late and couldn’t meet before hand

Beetlejuice is literally buzzing with excitement and when you walk on stage, apologising for running late, he just beams and tackles you into a hug

He’s just so excited to finally meet you in person

(A video of him attacking you goes up on youtube and is instantly gif’ed and becomes a meme because everyone loves how excited he was to finally meet you and touch you)

You end up spending more time together than initially planned, but neither of you minded

The first video when you get back is filmed at your place and is titled ‘How I managed to snag a hottie for a girlfriend’, with the icon being Beetlejuice pointing at you with an excited look on your face, you rolling your eyes with your head in your hands

Everyone’s OTP

You keep your individual channels but definitely start doing more collabs on the reg whilst maintaining that perfect life/work balance, not everything needs to go on Youtube

You end up moving to be closer to him, you meet the family and Beetlejuice is just so so happy

And so are you

[sfb123]

Sapere Aude - Part 6

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: PG-13 Adult language, allusions to smut (but nothing graphic), discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.

Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.

Word Count: 2,146

Notes: Not much to say, other than this is the big meeting you’ve been waiting for. There’s A LOT of information here. I hope it’s not too overwhelming!

As always, one love to my pre-readers @texaskitten30 & @txemrn. And thank you @twinkleallnight for my moodboard!

Tags: Tags seem to not work in the actual body of the fic, so I’m going to try tagging everyone in the comments, hopefully that works. If you want to be added or removed, just let me know!

As Riley entered the solarium, Eleanor rose from her seat. To say it was an awkward moment was an understatement. Yes, they had met the night before, but there had been so much going on in Riley’s mind that she wasn’t able to truly process the woman standing before her until that moment.

“Your majesty.” Eleanor bowed slightly.

“Forgive me, but I’m not quite sure how I’m supposed to address you.” Riley was doing her best to stay guarded, even though she was screaming on the inside. 

“Please, call me Eleanor, no need for formalities. We are family after all.”

Riley grimaced subtly at that. What does she know about family? Did she really just say that? Too soon, lady. Read the room. “Okay Eleanor. Please, call me Riley.”

“Riley, how are you feeling this morning? You’re recovering alright, I hope.”

“Considering the circumstances, I’m doing fine. Can I offer you something to eat or drink before we begin?”

Eleanor nodded. They both took a few moments to put together plates for themselves. Riley was certain anything she ate would immediately come back up, but she wasn’t going to let her nerves get the best of her. They sat there in silence for several long moments. Riley finally spoke up. “So, you’re in charge of the secret society that has been trying to take down my family. How’s that going for you?” There was a bite in her tone, despite her attempt to stay neutral and composed. 

“Riley, please, I know how all of this may seem to you, but you haven’t been getting the entire story. There are very few people in the organization that have the full picture. I am one of those people, and I am here to fill you in on everything.”

“So fill me in. I’d love to know why you’re so hellbent on destroying the son you abandoned.” She crossed her arms over her chest. As hard as she tried to stay calm, the longer she sat there, starting at this woman, the more angry she got. Not for herself, for Liam. She was so protective over him, he was always worried about others, his kingdom, his friends, his family, he needed someone to worry about him. That was a burden she would gladly bear.

Eleanor sighed deeply. “Riley, I didn’t know what I was doing, or who I was when I joined the Via Imperii. I was a young girl with a crush on a boy. He told me about this group that would be able to show me the world.” She knew the similarities in their stories would get her attention. “Surely you understand what that feels like.”

“I might have heard a story like that once or twice.” Riley blushed and sunk a little lower in her chair. 

Eleanor went on to explain that, unbeknownst to her, the boy that she followed into the group was actually sent specifically to recruit her into the Via Imperii. They were looking for a way to unite Auvernal and Cordonia, and they saw her as the way to do this. They would get her in power beside Constantine, and she could advocate for the unification of the two countries. There had even been a marriage alliance proposed at one point that would have promised Liam to Isabella and had him rule Auvernal by her side, with Leo taking over the Cordonian throne. Luckily, that failed spectacularly, and didn’t make it past the negotiation phase. The Via Imperii had chosen Eleanor because she seemed to most fit Constantine’s type, making it easy to catch his eye in his vulnerable state, considering his wife had recently abandoned him. Since she was not familiar with Cordonia, they made sure to pair her up with a native operative, to compensate and help her along the way. That is how she met Jackson Walker, her partner, and Constantine’s lead guardsman. 

“Drake’s dad? Wait, if Jackson was working with you, does that mean that he’s not…he’s still...” She took a deep breath, trying to compose her thoughts, but her brain was moving too fast for her mouth to be able to keep up. 

“No. Unfortunately, Jackson is no longer with us. After my extraction, Constantine became difficult, he stopped listening to everyone. Once influencing him no longer became an option, it was determined that the only path was to remove him from power entirely. Jackson expressed his doubts over the change. The Via Imperii decided that this made him a threat to the plan, so he needed to be eliminated.” There was a sadness in Eleanor’s voice that Riley wasn’t expecting.

“So the failed attempt on Constantine’s life…”

“Was not an attempt on Constantine at all, but a successful attempt on Jackson.” She closed her eyes, and bowed her head slightly. “It was so hard to see that happen to such a dear friend. And it broke my heart to watch Bianca and the children go through all of that pain. Especially Drake, it hit him exceptionally hard. But he and I both knew what this was when we signed on.”

“So there really is nothing stopping them from taking me away from Liam and Eleanor?” Riley’s eyes started to fill with tears. She was officially in over her head.  

“Yes there is. Me.” Eleanor reached her hand across the table and placed it over Riley’s. “ I have caused my son enough pain for a lifetime. I won’t let him go through a hurt like that ever again.”

Riley jerked her hand back, sadness and fear quickly replaced with anger at the audacity of Eleanor trying to comfort her. “Why would you even care about the pain you caused him? Wasn’t he just part of the job? Another thing you signed on for?” This was the exact argument that she had talked Liam down from that first night that they discussed everything. At the time, Riley truly believed that his mother loved him, but all of this new information completely threw her for a loop. She didn’t know what to believe anymore, and she needed to stand up for her husband. 

“When I married Constantine, it was part of the plan, yes. But in my time by his side, I truly grew to love him. He was a good man that only wanted the best for his country, and his family.”

“Yea, I’ve seen first hand what he was willing to do to make sure his country, and his family had ‘the best’.” She emphasized her sarcasm with air quotes. 

“I know what Constantine did to you during Liam’s social season. My heart truly broke for you, and for Liam. The love you two have for each other was evident, even back then. Constantine wasn’t always like that, there was a time when he would have been thrilled for his son to find someone he cared for so greatly. Unfortunately, everything changed after my extraction.”

“Let’s talk about that extraction. Why did you just leave like that?”

Eleanor explained that after the marriage alliance with Auvernal fell through, Constantine started to doubt her loyalty to Cordonia, that she seemed to be putting the needs and wants of Auvernal ahead of those of the kingdom she ruled. The Via Imperii determined that, in order for the plan to move forward, they would need to pull Eleanor out. Because of her expansive knowledge of the inner workings of the monarchy, and Constantine himself, they agreed that she would still be a valuable asset, but she would be reassigned to work behind the scenes, providing them with intel to help them in their mission. 

They had worked with Barthelemy through associates in the past, and they knew his desire to have more power in the kingdom, so they felt he would be the best choice to move the plan forward. In order to boost his ego, they led him to believe that he was truly killing the Queen.Through a series of undercover operatives, they ensured that no actual harm would be done. Despite Barthelemy bringing in an outsider, Godfrey, to assist him in the assassination, the plan went off without a hitch. The only problem was, after Eleanor’s ‘death’ Constantine was in a constant state of paranoia. Barthelemy was confident that nobody would be able to get to the king, and if the Via Imperii wanted any control in Cordonia, they would need to take over the throne. 

Riley’s head was spinning. She didn’t know if the explanation made things better or worse. She understood now the mechanics of it, but she still couldn’t comprehend a mother abandoning her son. “But you just left Liam. Abandoned him. You knew what these people were doing, you knew what the plan was, how could you just leave your son in the middle of all of that?”

“Trust me, leaving my son behind was the hardest decision I have ever made. When I was assigned to my position as queen, my loyalty was to the Via Imperii. The second I became a mother, everything changed. My priority became my son. He took precedence over everything.” 

“Then why did you leave him?” Riley’s voice was small, barely a whisper. 

“It was the only way I could protect him. They wanted me out of there. At least if I went willingly, I could still be here to keep him safe.” Elenaor looked at her hands, which sat clasped on the table in front of her. “Leaving Liam will remain the greatest regret of my life, but it was all I could think to do in that moment to protect him.” 

Riley’s eyes closed briefly, those words immediately brought her back to the balcony in Fydelia. That was practically word for word the reason he gave her for choosing Madeline at the Coronation. Boy, the Cordonian Ruby doesn’t fall far from the tree. 

Eleanor looked up, a single tear rolled down her cheek as her eyes met Riley’s. “I made it my personal mission to make sure you joined the Via Imperii so that we could work together to keep Liam safe. They want him out, they are telling you that the plan has changed, but I know for a fact that it hasn’t. Liam has already proven to be one of the best rulers Cordonia has had in centuries. The two of you are exactly what this country needs, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone ruin that.” 

There was a level of vulnerability in Eleanor’s eyes that Riley wasn't expecting. It was the look of a mother desperate to protect her child. The same look Riley had seen in the mirror when she was protecting her daughter from the countless threats that they had faced in her short life. There were still so many unanswered questions, so many obstacles and grey areas. As horrible as all of this was, in that moment, Riley truly believed Eleanor, she trusted her. 

“So...what can I do? How can I help?”

“You and I will stay in touch, I will give you any information as I get it, so that you can stay one step ahead of them. For now, just keep your family close, and keep living your life as you normally would.”

Riley nodded. Part of her wanted to tell Eleanor that Liam knew what was going on, that she had told him everything, but she was afraid that would do more harm than good. She figured she’d wait, at least until she told Liam about her. While she did believe Eleanor was being sincere, she was going to let Liam take the lead on how this relationship progressed. She was grateful for her help, but that wasn’t going to cancel out all of the pain that she had caused Liam. 

Eleanor stood from her seat. “I really should be getting back, but I’m so glad we had a chance to talk.” She extended her hand to Riley’s.

Riley was just about to shake her hand when she paused. “Wait, I have one more question.” She had just remembered a very important missing piece to the puzzle that was Eleanor’s death. “You were pregnant when you die...er, were extracted.”

“Right, of course. I found out I was pregnant about a month before the extraction. I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell Constantine, which was probably for the best.” She looked down. “I had a son, he was raised in the Via Imperii, and is currently on assignment within the Palace.”

“Wait, so Liam has a younger brother, and he works in our home? He’s been in contact with his brother this whole time, and he doesn’t even know.” Riley felt that all too familiar sting behind her eyes again. 

“Yes, we placed him in the King’s Guard so that he could also help in protecting your family. His name is Thomas.”

Continue Reading

Tags: @txemrn @texaskitten30 @kingliam2019 @anjanettexcordonia @twinkleallnight @mile9213 @kittypryde-bipride @motorcitymademadame @kat-tia801 @bebepac @gkittylove99 @khoicesbyk @jessiembruno @queenrileyrose @athena-penrose @pixie88 @eadanga @choicesficwriterscreations @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @annarenee355 @burnsoslow @shewillreadyou​ @imturaxamara @gabesmommie1130 @cordoniaqueensworld

[shmisolo]

For Anyone Looking for Not-Super-Angsty-Stuff

I’m compiling mine (or at least the less-angsty stuff) into one list for ya.  

Seen ✔️✔️ 

His lock screen has three texts from Rey on it:

Rey Wife: Babe I know you’re probably busy right now, but you sent that pic to the wrong chat. Rey Wife: Bennnnnnn Rey Wife: Call me when you’re done processing your trauma.

And then about ninety chats from the Skywalker Ranch WhatsApp thread.

--

In which Ben sends a picture to the wrong chat.

The Sweater Curse

She’s never made a sweater before, but she saw the pattern on Ravelry and who cares if she’s only made (lumpy) hats before—she has to try it.  She has to make it. She has to make it for Ben.

“You realize that Hannukah isn’t an important holiday, right?” Ben asks as she makes eye contact with him.  His eyes are big and brown and—at this moment—mildly annoyed.

“Really?  Is it a giant conspiracy theory?  Part of the war on Christmas?”

“More than you realize,” Ben says and for the life of her she can’t tell if he’s joking.  He does this thing sometimes that’s confusing—where he’ll say something that sounds mopey but is actually snarky and it disarms her every damn time.  “In any event, ugly Hanukkah sweaters definitely aren’t a thing the way ugly Christmas sweaters are.”

“Well, they are now,” Rey says firmly.  “I’m making you an ugly Hanukkah sweater.  Deal with it. And stop moving.”

it's you and me (i know it's our destiny) 

It’s just a kid’s game, he thinks when jealousy pangs in his heart. But it’s more than just a kid’s game.

It’s Pokémon.

It’s the only good thing in his life.

Shalom Rav!

In which Rey comes to terms realizing that she is attracted to the rabbi.

Apples and Honey

When Ben catches wind that his mother is planning to foist a potential girlfriend on him when he comes home for Rosh Hashanah, he takes matters into his own hands: specifically, he runs to Rey and asks her to pretend to be his girlfriend.

atlanta > all atlanta > community > missed connections

In which Rey meets a cosplayer at DragonCon. 

Two to Tango

Rey: I need to ask you something awkward. Ben: What’s up? Rey: Can I give you a blowjob? Please?

Bang for your Buck

“We ready?” he asks her, sounding huffy.

“Nice to meet you Ben, I’m just familiarizing myself with your training,” she replies.

“Ok, well I don’t have all day.”

“No, you have,” she checks her watch, “another hour.” Because of course he’d booked an extra long session. Bless that sweet, sweet overtime pay.

“And you’re sure you know what you’re doing?” he asks her and she glances up at him, sure that her eyes are flashing because that’s fucking rude. She’s a professional. Amilyn wouldn’t have hired her if she didn’t know what she’s doing, and just because he apparently thinks he’s the center of the universe doesn’t change that fact.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your bang for your buck,” she tells him icily.

A Picture's Worth

reyjay: hiya your art is amazing

reyjay: it’s a big ask but could you draw me for my art final tomorrow? i’m shit at drawing people and i can’t fail this. can you help?

He stares.

And stares.

And stares.

kyloren: is this some kind of a joke?

reyjay: no?? why??

kyloren: you’re asking me to help you cheat your exam, but you’re not even offering me money?

Forged

There are several reasons that Ben would never have dreamed he’d ever receive this text. The first is that he’d be invited to a Halloween party. The second is that he’d never in his life expected to be in a serious relationship, much less the sort of serious relationship where his partner would suggest matching Halloween costumes. And the last is that he is dating someone who’s show only and they’ve only almost murdered one another twice. Because he’s an A Song of Ice and Fire fan. He hates Game of Thrones.

(Not) Interested

We're bringing Speed Dating back to Space Battles Bonanza! Register online for one of our special Bonanza sessions of 15 three-minute dates so you’ll no longer have to look for love in a galaxy far far away. Choose from one of seven speed dating sessions, two of which are queer focused. If the Insurgents can blow up the Doom Moon in 11 minutes, let’s see if you can make a love connection in only three.

There’s a history of successful Speed Dating at Space Battles Bonanzas, with long-term couples, engagements and marriages now among the alumni.

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In which Rey & Kylo meet at their fancon's speed dating.

do or do not (do the do)

In which Ben, in an effort to improve his stamina (look he's making progress, ok?) after reading some articles that he'll never be able to unread, receives some coaching (that he very much did not ask for).

(Very much did not ask for.)

A for... 

Rey’s seeing double by the time there’s food on her plate. Oh. There’s food on her plate. That’s good. That’s unexpected at this point. “Eat,” Ben tells her.

So she does. It tastes good. Very good. She likes this food a lot.

“I’ll make sure she knows,” Ben says.

Oh she’s at that point of drunk where she’s just saying things out loud instead of keeping them in her internal monologue.

“You are,” Ben says, looking very amused.

She hopes she doesn’t say anything embarrassing.

“I promise, you haven’t yet, but oh boy, I’m looking forward to this.”

She shoves food into her mouth to keep herself from thinking out loud about his dick in her ass at his mother’s Passover seder.

The Love Committee 

In which Rey, tired of her bad luck with dating apps and failed relationships, enlists her friends' help in determining who she should date next.

They take it a little too seriously.

💦💦💦💦 

In which Ben accidentally implies that he gets his cardio from having sex on national television.

You, Me, and He

When they say that Kylo's brain is in his groin, they're not far from the truth.

Alternatively,

In which Kylo Ren is his own penis.

and beyond 

“Please?”

For a moment, he thinks it will be like the first time, him begging, her crying and saying no and him not knowing how to protect his crushed heart.

But she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t say, “Please don’t go this way,” she doesn’t look horrified or disgusted. She just grabs him by the front of his shirt and tugs his lips down to hers before reaching down to cup his cock.

we decided not to kill the wolves (we wanted to be wolves)

A pack of wolves lives in the woods to the north of Raddus and as winter looms, they have their eyes set on Leia Organa’s stronghold. Rey may be new to Raddus, but she’s not about to do nothing while it may be in danger. And besides, Poe must be exaggerating about wolves the size of bears. She’s not afraid of monsters.

myosotis 

Ben picked the flowers for their wedding.

The Kitchen

Rey and Ben, hunting for their first house.

Investiture 

In which Ben goes to daven for his father’s yahrtzeit and manages to prove to himself once again that he is both a terrible person and a terrible Jew.

Oh and he sort of falls in love.

The Sweetest Thing 

A post-coital trip to Waffle House.

with you i shall play

And when it's dry and ready, then Ben's dick Rey shall play.

Everything to Prove

“The show,” he says. “It’s probably best if they don’t—if we don’t—”

And Rey follows his line of thought at once. For all the program is one that doesn’t seem melodramatic—the height of drama in previous seasons came from someone’s cake falling over and that was about it—she does not doubt that the producers and cameramen would leap at the opportunity to make there be something out of nothing in their relationship—especially if there was something out of something.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Yeah, probably. We can pick baking stations that are…” but she doesn’t want to complete the thought. She likes baking next to Ben.

“Or we can just be careful?” he suggests, sounding quite as pained by the prospect as Rey feels.

“Yeah, careful. I can do careful,” Rey says at once and her lips are on his again and he’s laughing now, and she’s laughing, and she didn’t think laughter would be part of all this. She didn’t think it could be. But here she is, laughing and kissing and holding a man who, at some point, she’s going to want to beat.

She does her best not to think of that now.

It’s a friendly competition, after all.

It’s not life and death.

It’s baking.

Brightblades 

In which Rey learns about a startling kink of her new boyfriend, and in which, much later, they roleplay it.

The Knotting Shop 

Ben realizes upon entering the shop that he had gotten the complete wrong impression from the name of it.

What the fuck sort of shop calls itself The Knotting Shop if it’s not about, well, knotting?

The answer, apparently, is a knitter with a sense of humor. An Omega, by the scent that seems to have landed in every colorful ball of yarn in the shop and which hits him right in the groin.

Let Go (Never Let Me Go) 

In which Rey swipes right on Ben, 35. Probably too much of an asshole for you, but my therapist is trying to convince me that assholes deserve love too, so here’s me on Tinder, and it does not proceed as she expects.

crossfade (cursed and blessed)

The Talmud states that on Purim one is to drink to the point of not knowing the difference between “cursed is Haman” and “blessed is Mordechai.” In other words, you’re supposed to get so blitzed you can’t tell your friends from your enemies. Rey and Ben might be taking this a little too literally at Leia’s annual Purim Party.

Kind Stranger

Ben stares at the text for a minute before opening up his computer and typing “+7793 area code” into his web search. Jakku. Of course he wouldn’t have recognized it. He confessed himself surprised to know that Jakku even had an area code. Did people still live in Jakku?

#kylothekiller 

It’s not the first time that Rey has seen Kylo pop up in her Fido stream, but it is the first time she’s clicked on him fast enough to be scheduled for a meet and greet with dog and owner on Saturday.

All Bets Are Off 

“Fake girlfriend. What does that even mean?” Ben asks her.

Rey rests a hand on his arm, feeling the muscles underneath his sleeve. “Babe,” she says, leaning close to him. “It means we pretend we’re madly in love. Think you can pull that off for your office pool?” Ben’s eyes flicker softly between each of hers and he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.