#just to be clear i don’t see snake as his uncle nor do i see solidus as his dad ok 👍

[cellyjubes]

saw this tweet and immediately thought of their dynamic in mgs4

[fortisfiliae]

Promised Part 10 - Tom Riddle x reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Masterpost | Masterlist

Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life. (GIF is not mine)

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 3k

Part 10 - Mors Grano

The days after Avery’s poor attempt of gathering information went by quite eventfully. Not only had Avery and Lestrange almost gotten expelled by Dippet for what they had done, but had received the worst detention you had ever heard of. 

Every day, up until the N.E.W.T.s would start, they had to help Mr Carpe, Hogwarts’ caretaker, to clean every last bit of the castle. Without magic of course. And when they weren’t scrubbing floors, cleaning windows, or polishing trophies, they were copying the school rules on parchment, by hand. The amount of paper they had to fill looked like it wouldn’t even fit into an entire classroom, had it not been rolled up. 

Even if they still wanted to, their new schedule didn’t even give them enough time to trail, or even think about you. They barely had enough time to finish their homework before tumbling into their beds.

You would have felt sorry for them, but Tom’s snarky grin, which he wore every time you saw the two in the hallways, reminded you that you didn’t have to. 

Thank Merlin you hadn’t told Avery much when he had disguised himself as Tom. You had just confirmed that the engagement had been arranged but thankfully hadn’t said anything about your sister. There had been worse rumours going round about Tom and you. 

Camille almost didn’t believe you when you told her what they had done. After a lot of head shaking and “no, they didn’t”s she just stared at you with her mouth open and proceeded to laugh for a full minute or two when you told her about their punishment. 

It was a lucky coincidence that she had found an interest in Ben, as she didn’t mind now that you were spending a lot more time with Tom. She was preoccupied as well by the looks of it. 

After the accidental sleepover, you had stayed in Tom’s dorm overnight more often. Not on accident though. It had become a routine to you, to have another quick chat with Camille after classes, arrange some dates for when you wanted to study together and then make your way to the Slytherin common room, where Tom’s dorm was.

Tom was sitting at his desk when you entered the room, apparently deep in thought and studying the Potions book he had gifted you.

“Alright?” you said when you closed the door.

He nodded as you went up to him.

“Found anything interesting for the Moly?” you asked. “It still looks quite healthy to me.”

“Not really,” he answered and turned towards you. “Nothing specific.”

“Oh, I just got an owl from my parents. ” You crammed the letter out of your bag and handed it to him. “They’ve fixated the date. For the wedding.”

Tom read the letter quietly, his eyebrows twitching slightly once or twice.

“June 30th,” he said.

“That’s only one day after we graduate,” you stated and tried to lighten the mood by joking. “Seems like they can’t wait for the big day.”

He nodded as he gazed into the flames inside the fireplace, a tiny grin pulling on the edge of his mouth before he looked up at you. “Can you?”

To prevent the chuckle that built up inside of you from bursting out, you took Tom’s hand, lightly pulled on it and gestured towards the couch, where you wanted to sit. He closed the Potions book, but kept one finger inside it and took it with him when you led him over.

“Well, I don’t know,” you said as you let yourself fall onto the cushion. “It still doesn’t feel real, does it?”

“True,” he simply agreed. 

“I can’t wait to try on the dress, though. That’ll be exciting,” you went on and noticed him smiling. “And then there’s the most important part, of course.”

He gave you a look as if to say he didn’t know what you meant.

“Elsie,” you explained. “Your uncle will lift her curse completely then. Or so I hope at least.”

Morfin had to, didn’t he? It was part of the pact after all. Tom and you would get married so that they would free your sister. As much as you wanted to believe that the Gaunts were trustworthy, there had been a nasty sting in your stomach ever since the engagement. Would they really give up, even when they had won? They wouldn’t be able to control you anymore afterwards, or Tom, or anyone but themselves. Marvolo’s filthy grin appeared in your head. Would he ever give it a rest?

“He will free her, won’t he?” you asked.

Tom looked into your eyes for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Well, it’s what they agreed on.”

“But?” you asked. 

“But,” he went on, “You’ve seen how they are.”

An invisible weight seemed to pull on your limbs and the sting in your stomach got more intense. 

“They’ll never let go,” you breathed. “But how-”

Tom shook his head and exhaled slowly. “I have to show you something.”

He gave you the Potions book and opened it at the page where he had put his finger before. “I thought you’d come across it on your own, but as I noticed you wouldn’t… Just see for yourself.”

You stared at him for a moment, wondering what Morfin’s book had to do with anything, before looking down at it. Tom pointed at a recipe, written in scrawled handwriting:

Mors Grano or The Dust Of Slow Death The dust is used to be scattered over an item and will cling to the first person that touches it. Vanishes the second the victim comes in contact, which makes it very hard to be detected and cured. Victims will suffer from a distinctively harsh cough, as well as pain and flu-like symptoms, which will worsen each day, until they become fatal. Average time until death is around three weeks after the first encounter with Mors Grano. In most cases, the victim will lose their life before the appropriate antidote can be given. 

You didn’t bother reading the list of ingredients, as your hands were shaking far too much to even detect another word. You had heard of Mors Grano before. Professor Dippet had brought it up in History of Magic when you had learned about the Passing of Men in 1760. Hundreds of witches had poisoned their abusive husbands with it when the dust had been invented. It had taken years to figure out what had caused such an increased amount of deaths, which happened to involve male wizards only. The potion and most of its ingredients got banned afterwards and you had never heard of another case since.

Until now. It suddenly all made sense. The Gaunts had sent the letter and had coated it with Mors Grano. They had known how to cure Elsie all along and had patiently waited, days and weeks, had let your sister suffer until Father had contacted them. No wonder the owl had given the letter to her, even though it had been addressed to Father. They had specifically chosen her. A ten year old, innocent, little girl. 

You weren’t sure if you had to throw up, or just needed to punch something really hard, but your stomach did twists and turns that you had never felt before. A thin layer of sweat had formed on your forehead and your hands were still shaking.

“They…” you whispered. “And you knew?”

Tom swallowed thickly. “I didn’t at first. But then I came across it when Morfin prepared the poison.”

“And you never told me?” you asked, your voice loud and on the verge of breaking, while you attempted to get up from the couch.

“Let me explain,” Tom said and grabbed your hand. “Sit down.”

“What is there to explain?” you asked, trying to pull away from his grip. “You’ve known for months. Even before your first visit. Before Elsie got sick. And you never tried to prevent it, nor did you tell me.”

Tom’s grip around your hand got tighter the more you tried to get him off you. “I said let me explain. I let you explain yourself when I saw you with Avery, didn’t I? Imagine I just ran away then. Now sit down.”

Finally, Tom’s grip loosened, allowing you to tear your hand away from him. Not knowing what to think or say, you sat down but couldn’t bring yourself to even look in his direction.

“Yes, I knew,” he began with a sigh. “And I didn’t care until I found out what they wanted to use the potion for. But I couldn’t tell you. Or anyone. I still can’t. I’m unable to talk about it. They were a step ahead. Understand?”

The Gaunts were a step ahead. They always wanted to be. Just like on Christmas Day, when they wanted you and Tom to do-

“An unbreakable vow?” you asked with wide eyes. “You had to vow not to tell anyone.”

He nodded. “I vowed not to tell. But I didn’t vow not to show.”

He turned one page inside the book and handed it to you again.

Mors Grano - antidote

Ingredients: 

The skin of a snake

2 fresh Foxgloves

3 blossoms of a Moly

4 drops of Moondew

5 tears of a Banshee

“The antidote,” you mumbled. “Full with an ingredient list and instructions. Morfin brewed it already then? They gave it to Elsie, otherwise, she wouldn’t have gotten better.”

“He didn’t complete it,” Tom answered, apparently trying not to say something that would interfere with the vow.

“He left out something? They gave her an unfinished antidote?”

Tom nodded. 

“The tears?” you guessed, solely because it was the most powerful and rare item on the list.

“I’m not sure. They never let me into his chamber after the engagement.”

“Can we… Can we steal it from him? And add the last ingredient?”

“Marvolo has the flask on him at all times. He’s suspicious, even of Morfin.”

Bloody hell. Marvolo’s paranoia was a real pain. You scanned the antidote again, thinking of all the ways you could get your hands on that potion.

“But I could brew it myself. Most of the ingredients are easy to find. Foxgloves are for sale in Diagon Alley, I’ve seen them countless times. The Moly, we have it here,” you listed and looked at it standing on the desk, finally realising why Tom had tried to keep it alive so badly. “Snakeskin from Nagini. We just wait for her to shed. Moondew and the Banshee tears will be tricky, however.”

Tom nodded at every new thing you had said. “You figured it out.”

Your stomach had stopped squirming at the glimmer of hope you had for saving Elsie. You carefully read the recipe for the antidote again, understanding how long it would take and how hard it would be to get the potion right. If everything went well, it would be finished mid to late June at the earliest. Besides, Slughorn had never taught you such advanced techniques. 

Now that you were thinking of your Professor, it began to dawn on you. “Do you think Slughorn has Moondew and Banshee tears in his chamber?”

“Possibly,” Tom answered. “But do you really want to steal from him after what Avery and Lestrange did? I’m sure he’s got it all locked up in his office now.”

“Well, I have to try. Where else would I get those things from? And I better try soon. The antidote will take months to make as it is and the earlier I start, the better.”

Tom took the book, got up from the couch and put it into the drawer of his desk, closing it shut slowly.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“We’re going to Slughorn then, aren’t we? Come on.”

You followed him out hastily, trying to sort out your thoughts. Frankly, you had not expected to get the ingredients this quickly.

“Wait, how are we going to do it?” you asked, struggling to keep pace. “We can’t just sneak in and grab the things we need. He might be in there.”

“Even better then,” Tom said, not deigning to look at the other students strolling along the hallways. “I talk, you get the stuff.”

As Slughorn’s office was located on the sixth floor, it took some time to get there. Your mind was still racing around the facts you had just been given and you needed to talk about it.

“I can’t believe they made you vow,” you muttered. “Marvolo and Morfin are…”

“Bastards,” he finished your sentence when you stepped from one of the moving staircases to another. “I’m aware.”

“Well, yes they are.”

You were the only people on the staircase, floating higher up towards your destination. Tom looked over his shoulder to double-check if anyone could hear him.

“You know what,” he said pensively. “I actually expected people to ask me what I, or my family, had done to make the engagement happen. Seeing as it was them who got the ball rolling. But everyone suspected you. They all thought your parents bribed us.”

You thought about what to answer for a moment. A sour smile had formed on your face. One that, for all you knew, every woman had worn at least once in her life. 

“A woman's intentions will always be questioned a hundred times harsher than those of a man, Tom. What else is new?”

He pressed his lips together, nodded and kept quiet until you reached the sixth floor.

“Wait,” you said and got a hold of his hand when you had entered the corridor of Slughorn’s office. “I wanted to thank you. For helping me. The book, the Moly and now this. You know you don’t have to.”

He squeezed your fingers lightly in response. 

“Trust me, no one hates Marvolo and Morfin more than I do. If I can make their lives a bit harder, I’ll gladly do it. And besides, I want to see your sister become Quidditch captain one day. That will really piss them off.”

There wasn’t a lot of time to take in Tom’s words, as you had arrived. There it was. The door to Slughorn’s room.

“Get behind me,” Tom ordered. “Make sure he doesn’t see you.”

You did as he said, pressed your back against the stone wall and watched from a small distance how Tom knocked on the door and Slughorn opened it.

“Oh, Tom,” the Professor said. “Good afternoon. What brings you here?”

“Good afternoon Professor. I hope I’m not disturbing you. I have some questions about Avery and Lestrange. I’m trying to sort out some things for Professor Dippet. Would you mind letting me in?”

Slughorn opened the door fully and stepped back. “Of course, boy, of course. Come in.”

Tom had left the door open for you to slip in behind them, which you instantly did. He lured Slughorn to the far end of his office, walking backwards and keeping an eye on you. Slughorn’s potion stock was right next to the entrance, where you knelt down between the shelves, in case he would turn around unexpectedly.

The small drawers weren’t tagged, but you noticed that their contents were sorted alphabetically. As you silently roamed through them, you could hear Tom and Slughorn speak.

“So, Professor,” Tom said. “Do you know if Avery and Lestrange have taken anything else? Apart from the Polyjuice Potion?”

The Professor hummed. “Not that I’m aware of, no. Why?”

Every single one of the drawers was filled to the brim with ingredients, some vials even had completed potions in it, but you still hadn’t seen the things you were looking for. It was a delicate act to go through everything so quickly, while being quiet at the same time and making sure not to miss anything.

“Well, there were some items found. Residues of Moondew and Banshee tears,” Tom explained.

“Banshee tears?” Slughorn asked.

“Yes. We can’t be sure if it was them, but I thought if you missed those things from your supply, the two might have something to do with it.”

“No, everything else is there, I counted it myself,” Slughorn assured. “What baffles me are the Banshee tears.”

Tom was an excellent liar, even though Slughorn would have probably bought anything his favourite student said. The bottom drawer at the penultimate row was stuck. You pulled the handle tightly but it only opened up an inch and gave a screech while it did, making you freeze from fear.

“Did you hear something?” Slughorn asked, his voice echoing your way.

“No, I didn’t,” Tom answered and coughed. “Why are you surprised about the Banshee tears, sir?”

“Well, those tears are rare,” the teacher answered, his head directed towards Tom again. “Very rare and also not very legal, boy. I’ve never seen them anywhere in my whole life. They couldn’t have been from me.”

No Banshee tears from Slughorn then. You pulled out your wand and cast a nonverbal spell to loosen up the stuck drawer. Should have done that right away, you thought to yourself. Eventually, it opened smoothly and your eyes went over all the flasks and their name tags. Mollowsweed, mandrake, maw, mistletoe berry... Moondew. Thank Merlin! There were over ten vials of it in the drawer, so you hastily took out one and put it into your pocket.

You peeked over the counter, locked eyes with Tom, and pointed towards the door to let him know you would leave.

“I see,” Tom went on, his eyes back on Slughorn. “We’ll have to look into that. Anyway, if you do notice some Moondew missing, against all expectations, I’m going to have another talk with Dippet about Avery and Lestrange.”

“I’ll let you know, boy. Thank you.”

“Enjoy your evening, sir.”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Masterpost | Masterlist

I’m pretty proud of this plot twist, not gonna lie. Please consider leaving a comment and tell me what you think so far :) They motivate me so much to keep writing! Let me know if you want to be tagged, or untagged. Thank you for reading!

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[honey-dewey]

Game Night

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader

Word Count: 1,722

Warnings: none

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell

It’s game night in the Morales household. The boys and you all sit down with drinks and snacks and decide to play one of the most friendship ruining games on the planet. Who will win the cutthroat game of monopoly?

“Babe, can you get the door?” You shouted, hearing Frankie shuffle around the living room. “The boys are here!”

Frankie eagerly bounded to the door, almost falling on his face on the slippery wooden floors. He quickly righted himself and pulled the door open, embracing Benny, Will, and Santiago in one go. 

“Boys!” You said cheerily as they entered the house. “C’mon! I made dip, and there’s drinks in the fridge, and there’s also a secret dessert.” 

“If you weren’t married, I would get on one knee, here and now,” Benny said, pulling you into a hug. “You are the best!” 

You laughed. “Yeah? Let’s see how that holds up. I distinctly remember cleaning my carpets for a week after our last game night.” 

“Excuse you!” Will called from the living room. “Benny called me a dumb whore for charging him money! I couldn’t let that slide!” 

Laughing, you cleared away the coasters and remotes from the living room table, leaving it blank for tonight’s game. 

Frankie grabbed a box from the supply closet and set it down on the living room coffee table. The box in question was beat up and held together with packing tape, but the name of the game was still legible. Monopoly. 

“Are we playing teams?” Frankie asked as you all gathered around the table, you setting the snacks down and going out to grab beers for the boys. 

“If we are, I call Frankie!” You shouted from the kitchen. 

Will snorted. “You’re married. Of course you’ll be a team. Benny?” 

Benny fist-bumped his brother. “Hell yeah!” 

“And me?” Santiago said, amusement making his voice light. 

“Pope,” Frankie said. “Every time we play, you kick all our asses. You don’t need a team.” 

Santiago snorted. “Sounds fair,” he said. “Although, I would appreciate a partner to teach my secrets to.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully. Ever since you and Frankie had gotten married, Santiago had been bugging you for a baby. You had no idea why he wanted you to have one so bad, but he did. 

“Pope, if I do end up pregnant, I promise you’ll be the second person I tell,” you said, leaning towards the table and grabbing your favorite piece. The horse and rider. “Right after my husband.” 

Santiago grabbed his piece, the battleship, and smiled. “Of course.” 

Benny and Will took their piece, the cannon, and you all set the pieces down. 

“Who’s rolling first?” Frankie asked, grabbing the dice and holding them out. 

Will rolled for his team first, getting a solid 8. Santiago went next, rolling a 10. 

“Good luck,” you said to Frankie, leaning on his shoulder as he rolled the dice. A quick count of the dots gave you an 11. 

“Fuck yeah!” Frankie said happily, scooping up the dice again. “We get to go first.” 

Nothing much happened for your first go around of the board. Everyone knew the strategy of ‘wait to see how the game would play out’ and that had led to plenty of long monopoly games. You and Frankie agreed on the light blue and pink properties, and managed to buy Vermont and Virginia in two turns. You also, after a quick discussion, bought Illinois when you landed on it, knowing that the reds and the yellows were Santiago’s strategy. 

Another go around of the board, and the strategies began to emerge. You and Frankie got two railroads and another two properties in your target area, and it seemed that Will and Benny were too busy trying to outsmart Santiago that they didn’t even realize you and Frankie were very slowly taking over half the board. Santiago, in true Santiago fashion, kept his strategy as hidden as possible, buying properties from the entire board instead of focusing on one area. By the time you’d all passed Go again, tension was still, surprisingly, low. 

That changed quickly. You and Frankie bought what was affectionately referred to as ‘the slums’ but was actually just the two brown properties with a lucky roll of snake eyes, and through a well timed chance card, Will and Benny ended up in jail, both agreeing that it was complete bullshit while Santiago laughed. 

“Houses?” Frankie murmured in your ear as he added the second brown card to your stack. 

You glanced at what Santiago had and what the brothers had. “Wait. Santi’s trying to edge us off those orange properties, but give it another go around. He’s got that last blue one, Connecticut, but we’ve got Illinois, which he needs. And I’ve got no clue what Will and Benny are doing.” 

Frankie nodded, taking the dice and rolling again, getting you two the last pink property. 

“I’m gonna go grab more food, anyone want anything?” You asked, standing and looking around. 

“Another drink?” Benny asked, holding up his empty beer bottle. 

You took it, scanning the table for anything else you could recycle. “Of course,” you said. “How about I bring out the prize tonight, hm?” 

The boys cheered. Monopoly wasn’t a game where you often congratulated the winner. In fact, half the time Frankie managed to beat everyone, you jokingly refused to kiss him. But tonight, you wanted to up the stakes. 

Grabbing another beer for Benny, you balanced a covered pie tin with your other hand and walked back into the living room, where Frankie was happily arranging what had been collected in Free Parking. 

“Boys!” You announced happily. “Tonight’s victor will be awarded the grand prize of,” you pulled the tin foil off the pie tin. “A homemade cherry pie.” 

Immediately, everyone went wild. You laughed, covering the pie back up and setting it down on the kitchen counter. “Shall we keep playing?” 

The game continued, a few more go arounds of the board securing the final few properties. You and Frankie had almost every property you wanted, along with three of the four railroads. 

“Uh, guys,” Benny said finally after you charged him for a railroad. “Team lovebirds are destroying us right now. How’d we let that happen? How did no one notice?”

You laughed, grabbing the dice and rolling them. “I guess we’ll be keeping that pie.” 

“Not if I can help it!” Santiago held up the final light blue card. “Suck it!” 

“Mhm, we’ve got that last red one,” you pointed out, moving your piece and reluctantly handing Benny and Will some money. “Whenever you’re ready to trade, we’ll be here.” 

Will whistled, pushing the dice towards Santiago. “Dude, that’s rough.” 

Santiago leaned forward. “Nah. I want that damn pie.” 

Not long after that, Benny and Will went bankrupt, much to their disappointment. However, it meant they could man the bank and they wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire that would become your game. 

The game continued to drag on, neither you nor Santiago willing to back down. Money was exchanged, Will and Benny’s properties were bought, and houses were built. 

By the time anything interesting happened, you and Frankie had a solid chokehold on half the board. It was a war of attrition, a simple back and forth of the money. And then, by some miracle, you rolled the dice and landed on free parking. 

It was a crushing blow for poor Santiago. Suddenly, you and Frankie were up by almost five thousand dollars, able to afford a bunch of houses and, very slowly, you were able to drive Santiago to bankruptcy. 

“Damn!” He yelled, realizing he was done. “Good game, damn I cannot believe I lost.” 

You grinned, standing. “Pack all of this up. I’ll go cut the pie.” 

While the boys cleaned, you got five plates, putting a slice of pie on each one. Using old waiting skills and going very slowly, you carried all five plates out. 

“Jeez babe!” Frankie said, jumping up to help you. “Gimme some of those! You could’ve asked for help.” 

“I had it,” you reassured, sitting on the couch and sinking your fork into the pie. “Fuck, that is beautiful.” 

For the rest of the night, you and the boys ate, drank, and pulled out a deck of Uno cards to keep the fun going. Of course, Benny kicked all your asses, but he was the only one who ever actually strategized Uno. Everyone else enjoyed tipsy fun, laughing when someone got screwed and groaning when someone won. 

Eventually, some time well past midnight, you sent everyone to bed, or the couch in Santiago’s case. That included Frankie, who pulled you into your shared bedroom and grinned. “Babe, I got a question.” 

“Fire away.” 

Frankie came up behind you, putting his hands against your belly. “When are we gonna tell them?” 

“Tomorrow,” you murmured, resting your hands overtop Frankie’s. “I wanna watch Santi spit coffee out his nose.” 

Chuckling, Frankie led you to bed. “You’re evil.” 

The next morning, you gave each of the boys a coffee cup, smiling as you received sleepy murmurs. 

“Hey Benny,” you called, opening the fridge and peering into it. “You got any use for a perfectly good bottle of wine?” 

“Uh, why?” Benny asked, looking up from his mug. 

You shrugged. “Frankie’s not a wine guy and I can’t drink it.” 

“Yes you can,” Will said. “You drank a whole bottle with Benny last month.” 

“Bitch, I wasn’t pregnant last month.” 

As you’d guessed last night, Santiago choked on his coffee, coughing so violently that Frankie had to thump him on the back a few times. “What?” He yelled when he was finally able to talk again. 

“I’m pregnant,” you said, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. “Surprise. You’re all gonna be uncles.” 

Santiago fist pumped the air. “Hell yeah! I get a monopoly partner!” 

You laughed, doubling over the counter. “That’s what you’re focusing on?” 

“I have my priorities,” Santiago said with a smile. 

Benny stood, looking you up and down. “Can I touch? Please?” 

You shrugged, gesturing him closer. “Nothing to touch yet, but yeah.” 

Benny’s hand was warm on your belly, and he grinned at the expanse of exposed skin. “Hey,” he said directly to the baby. “I’m your uncle Benny.” 

“Ben,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re talking to a month old bean.” 

But now Will was beside you, and so was Santi, and there was Frankie behind you. Surrounded by your boys, you grinned. “I love this family.”

[i-drink-and-i-write-fics]

The Queen’s Guard

Chapter 4: The Dragon and the Stag

Summary: Myria meets Daenerys Stormborn.

Myria looked around the room, the tension growing in the silence. Tyrells, Sand Snakes, Greyjoys, Lannisters, and Targaryen all in the same room, around the same wooden table Aegon the Conqueror carved into an aerial view of Westeros.

It was Yara Greyjoy that finally broke the silence. “If you want the Iron Throne, take it. We have an army, a fleet, and three dragons. We should hit King’s Landing now, hard, with everything we have. The city will fall within a day.”

Tyrion Lannister - who Myria was surprised to find out was Daenerys’ Hand - cut off the Kraken. “If we turn the dragons loose, tens of thousands will die in the firestorms.”

“It’s called war,” Ellaria spoke up. “You don’t have the stomach for it, scurry back into hiding.”

“I know how you wage war. We don’t poison little girls here.”

Myria raised an eyebrow at this, still quietly learning about her new ‘allies’.

“Myrcella was innocent.”

“She was a Lannister. There are no innocent Lannisters.”

Finally, Myria cut in. “If we’re going by that same logic, no one is innocent. Regardless of what they’ve done in life. If the family is evil, so is the offspring. Even a child nor more than five years old. And if Daenerys is going to wipe out the evil in King’s Landing, we should use that same logic on Dorne. On High Garden. On all of Westeros. If you really want to unleash the dragons, you better make sure what side of the fire stream you’re on.”

Ellaria glared at Myria, but she refused to back down.

“Killing kids to get back at the parents? That was Mad King level of cruelty.”

“That’s enough!” Daenerys raised her voice above all others. She spared a glance at Myria but focused on Ellaria. “Lord Tyrion is Hand of the Queen. You will treat him with respect.”

Ellaria didn’t respond but it was clear on her face that she didn’t care to be chastised in a room full of people.

“I am not here to be queen of the ashes.”

“That’s very nice to hear,” Olenna decided to add her thoughts. “Of course, I can’t remember a queen who was better loved than my granddaughter. The common people loved her. The nobles loved her. And what is left of her now? Ashes. Commoners, nobles, they’re all just children at play. They won’t obey you unless they fear you.”

Myria took a deep breath. “Yes, my lady. But that is because you and Margaery could not imagine the cruel lengths Cersei would go to in order to hang on to power. She came up with things not even Tywin could have conceived his own daughter doing. Fear alone will not get Queen Daenerys what she wants.”

“Do not worry, we have a plan for that,” Tyrion said with confidence. He then went on to explain a plan to have the Dornes and the Tyrells surround the capital while the Greyjoys blocked off the bay.

Daenerys never took her eyes off Myria. “You don’t approve?”

Myria looked up, startled. “My Queen?”

“You don’t approve of Lord Tyrion’s plan.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m not as versed as making large battle plans like your Hand, but I do see a few flaws.”

Tyrion raised an eyebrow at this. “Such as?”

“Yara’s admission of her uncle building the largest fleet Westeros has ever seen. I don’t know about the Snakes, but House Tyrell is not sea-worthy. Nor are the Dothraki. In the battle sense. Euron could easily come by and wipe them out without even trying. I spent time traveling in Essos before coming back here and working for Olenna. His reputation precedes him. If you think Cersei’s cruel…”

Yara sighed, “I hate to admit it, but Myria is right. We alone cannot hold the bay if Euron gets his large fleet.”

“With your dragons, you can see farther than anyone else, so you may have a chance to sneak up on his fleet. But I would be willing to bet everything I am that Cersei is trying to find some way to harm them.”

“Dragon scales are like armor-” Daenerys began.

“Yes, the older they become the more impenetrable the skin is. But only in certain points. The Dornish took down Queen Rhaenys by spearing her dragon Meraxes in the eye. I’m sorry, your grace, but the dragons are not invincible.”

Daenerys took a deep breath and nodded her head. “Were there any other problems?”

“Yes, Casterly Rock.” Myria pointed to the Lannister fortress. “It’s empty. And I don’t mean of Lannisters. The mines have long since run dry.”

Tyrion looked over at her in shock. “How would you know this?”

Myria looked down. “While Lady Olenna was in the capital before Margaery’s death, I was in Lannisport, gathering what information I could.”

“And how did you do that, my dear?” Olenna had this look on her face that told Myria she suspected the how.

But it was Daenerys that answered, a smile on her face. “Men like to talk…when they’re happy.”

Olenna smiled brightly at Myria. “I’m very proud of you, my dear. But now we know they will head to High Garden.”

“And we will meet them there. Create an ambush.” Myria picked up the wooden pieces of the Dothraki, Unsullied, and the Golden Rose to place at High Garden. “You and I will return home to make it seem we are gathering our armies. The Lannisters know it is not what we are known for.”

“They will be coming for the gold…”Tyrion looked at Myria in surprise. “How will you stop them?”

Myria smirked. “The gold is already on its way to Dragonstone. Along with food and supplies. An old pirate friend of mine agreed to smuggle it all here.”

“And how do you know he won’t betray you?” Yara asked, eyebrows raised.

“He was at sea when the armada came in. He knows exactly what would happen to him and his small fleet if he even tried to take one coin. Plus, the guards that are capable are on the boats with the gold and the food. Only a few are stationed at High Garden. The rest are awaiting at Old Town.”

“For?” Daenerys raised an eyebrow.

“The Dornish. I also learned that Jaime Lannister was able to bribe Randyll Tarly to join Cersei’s cause. We will take his home to teach him a lesson.”

Daenerys smile at this but quickly caught herself. “And what of King’s Landing?”

“We will have a better chance if we take out the Lannister army first. I have also sent ravens to the houses of Dorne and The Reach to make sure they take every precaution to secure food rations in their lands and protect their people. If the South appears to be a fortress, it will be harder for the other Iron Fleet to raid them.”

Tyrion looked at the changed battle plans. “This could work. The North is under the new King, Jon Snow. The Eryie is pledged to them because of ties with Sansa Stark. And if the rumors are true, Little Finger is in the North, which means the Fingers are off-limits to Cersei as well. Cersei now only controls The Western Lands and the Crown Lands. The Riverlands are barely being held together by Walter Frey so they are not much of an ally for her.”

“Once the gold is secure, the armies can take Casterly Rock, and then her hold will be reduced to one kingdom and the Riverlands.”

Queen Daenerys measured Myria for a while before a genuine smile graced her face. “I know you have a very important job, but how would you like another?”

Myria furrowed her eyebrows. “Your grace?”

“How would you like to be my Master of War?”

Chapter 5

Tagging Crew:

Everything

@itsafansworld07

@that-chick212

@keetnerj01

GoT

@harpers-ramblings

@harper-emory-writes

The Queen’s Guard

@of-stars-and-pens​

[eleanor-devil]

Boruto: Sacrifices [Remade] | Chap.12 - Pursuing Silence

Written by: Eleanor-Devil & @mirage-05​​

Prologue | Chap.1 | Chap.2 | Chap.3 | Chap.4 | Chap.5 | Chap.6 | Chap.7 | Chap.8 | Chap.9 | Chap. 10 | Chap.11 | Chap.12 - You’re here

There was silence for a long moment. "The sound?" then came a voice, low, emotionless... unknown to most. Naruto didn't even realize all the eyes in the room turning towards Orochimaru, his mind fixated on one word. "The woman...?" "She didn't actively take part in attacking the child, but... She did something much worse." The young Yamanaka paused for a moment, gulped, and continued. "You asked why you couldn't hear the child. She was the reason." The tension in the room was so dense that it was almost tangible. "Explain." the Hokage said simply, his voice suddenly dry.

"Yoshida Suzume, from the Sound's Yoshida clan... A clan who is known by a dangerous kekkei genkai. They form strong sound barriers, and in extreme cases, they can even silence the voice of their opponent." "You mean...?" Konohamaru was easily putting together the pieces, and his eyes widened slightly. "Exactly. She trapped Mitsuki in a sound barrier. Coupled with Takeru’s genjutsu, which was the reason the fire and explosion stayed hidden... even with how close and loud they were, we couldn't hear him fighting for his life." The silence was only interrupted by low murmurs - the news was indeed shocking and cruel. Naruto was lost in thought... He was sure there was no woman when they got there, he had personally made sure there were no other rogue ninjas, and then there was Konohamaru... But Ryu stood in front of him, telling him that there was a woman who was responsible for them not reaching Mitsuki in time... "Shikamaru." he said in a clear voice, cutting into the mumblings. His advisor was right beside him in a second. "I'm listening." "Contact the Land of Rice and arrange three tracker teams to immediately head out to the Sound. We should apprehend that woman at any cost." "Of course." Hearing the Hokage's words, half a dozen of the ninja's in the room got to their feet. "Lord Seventh..." Kakashi started, using his formal title. "As one of the best tracking ninjas, I would like a leading role in this mission." Kiba had also got up. "Me and my dogs have caught their scents before. I would like to be one of the team leaders as well." Naruto wasn't really surprised when he saw Konohamaru on his feet, too. "Excuse me Lord Seventh," the young jounin said, a hardened determination in his eyes. "This is a personal matter for me. I ask your leave to go, too." Shikamaru took a half step forward, but catching Naruto’s eyes, he didn’t open his mouth to voice his thoughts. "Lord Seventh..." That was Ryu. "I can sense that woman's chakra and I've seen her face. If you give permission, I would like to join the trackers, too." The Hokage thought about it for a moment, then nodded. Sai and Ibiki could continue the interrogations, and catching this woman was important. The groups were formed relatively quickly, everyone in there wanted to get this done as soon as possible. Shikamaru approached Naruto. "We got this under control. Go get some rest..." The blond laughed, although it lacked humor. "As if I will be able to rest..." Naruto sighed, but not just out of exhaustion… he gave his advisor a side-long glance. ”There is something I should tell you.” “What is it?” Shikamaru was almost hesitant to ask. “Shikadai… he was in the hospital too, during and after the surgery.” The Nara’s eyes slightly widened at that, and he was quick to grasp Naruto’s hand. “Did he… how much did he see…?” “I’m afraid he witnessed all of it.” Naruto affirmed his worst fear sadly. “Ino is with the kids now of course, but…” Shikamaru passed a hand through his hair with a sigh. “Yeah I… I will talk with Temari too. Excuse me for a moment.” With quick paces, he walked to the door and out. ... The groups were all ready. He himself lacked the necessary abilities for tracking, but Konohamaru felt that luck was going to be by his side tonight. This was an important matter. He couldn't afford to fail... As he was re-checking his weapons, he didn’t even hear the door open. He didn’t look up either, until he heard the Hokage’s voice. “Konohamaru...” The jounin glanced only half up, enough to see his advisor there too, before returning to what he was doing. “Is it time?” “Konohamaru, just…” It felt like the blond was trying to choose his words very carefully. “Why don’t you just stop for a minute?” “With all due respect, Lord Seventh, I don’t have a minute. The teams are heading out shortly and-” “That’s actually what we wanted to talk to you about.” There it was again… that guarded tone, although the Nara’s voice was more formal than the Uzumaki’s. It made the jounin finally look up at them, with just the slightest frown on his face. Although he chose a gentler tone, Naruto’s eyes were just as serious. “We are concerned that you might not be well-suited for this mission.” “No.” The young man had not listened to half of what they had been saying, but he didn’t need to. The implication was too clear, and too horrific. “No, don’t do this to me.” “What you had been through tonight…” Naruto paused a minute, but then continued. “We can’t allow you to succumb to your emotions, not in something this crucial.” “That won’t be a problem.” And with that, he turned his back to the two, but more so for the fact that he didn’t want to look them in the eye. “It will. It’s only too clear.” that was Shikamaru. “Look, I know how you must feel-” “No. You don’t.” Konohamaru cut in, and only the slightest tremble in his voice gave away his inner turmoil. Otherwise he sounded… almost cold. “Don’t I?” For the first time since he entered the room, the Nara was hesitant. “I watched, helpless, as Asuma-sensei was killed right in front of me… I know how it is to want revenge, but this is not the way.” The young man’s posture was a little stiffened from the mention of his uncle… today was really not a good time. He raised his head, but didn’t turn back to the other two. “But uncle Asuma didn’t die believing you can’t stand his presence, did he?” There was a big moment of silence, neither Naruto nor Shikamaru expected to hear this. “That… is not true…” the Hokage started to say hesitantly. Having finished his business, Konohamaru finally turned to them, but he was still avoiding eye contact. “Yes, it is. These last couple of days have been hard for me, and I’ve been out of it mostly… But I didn’t realize I was taking it out of my team… out of him especially… Maybe unknowingly, but it was inexcusable.” “This is all the more reason you shouldn’t go.” Shikamaru tried to reason slowly. “You are not in your right state of mind. In this case you might be more of a liability than help.”   “Shikamaru,” Naruto cut in, in a warning tone. “Easy.” “I won’t. I just… it’s all clear in my mind now. If I do this, when I go on this mission… I will have some sort of closure, some peace of mind. I will be able to live with myself and my mistakes. If… you decide to take that from me…” Konohamaru didn’t complete his sentence, but for the two men, it wasn’t necessary. “We don’t intend to punish you with this,” Naruto said, sighing. “I’m more concerned about you really… But,” he added, having made up his mind. “I also have faith in you, that you can pull this out. Just focus on the mission, and see this as a test to yourself.” Konohamaru felt his throat closing in on itself, grateful for the Hokage’s words. He made a quick, formal bow. “I will not disappoint you, Lord Seventh.” There was really nothing much left to say. With a curt nod from Naruto, Konohamaru was out of the room in a flash. ... No one saw him slipping out of the building. He had enough, dealing with these wretched people. So the sannin made his way, slowly, to the apartments where he knew his son lived. A new beginning... just a chance to become more... make friends... that was all Mitsuki ever wanted before coming to Konoha. Much like how he had a second chance... It would be simple... so much more effortless if he could just get Karin over to heal Mitsuki. He had no doubts that it would work, she was an Uzumaki after all, vast resource of chakra, and her healing abilities... But even if she begged herself to help his son (which he knew she would), he also knew that in her current situation, neither of his two other disciples would allow it. Suddenly, a harsh and sharp voice cut into his train of thoughts. "Halt!" Recognizing the voice, and more out of habit than anything, Orochimaru turned... and looked directly into the eyes of Anko, his former student. From the slight widening of her eyes, the sannin understood that she had managed to see through his disguise... Of course, he would expect nothing less from a disciple. "What do you want, Anko?" "What do I want?!" The woman asked incredibly, nothing but pure anger in her eyes. "What the fuck do you think you are doing here?!" The sannin didn't even bother to reply to her for a moment. "I have neither time nor patience for childish games. Leave me alone." "The hell I will!" The woman cried out, leaning forward in an attack position. "Fight me! You are going to pay for attacking Konoha!" A dangerous glint came into his snake like eyes. "I did not commit the crime all of you are so eager to blame on me." "And you expect me to believe it?!" "Since when did I ever deny something I caused?" "I hope you came here to take your little snake back!" Anko spit out, out of malice. "It was high time you realize he doesn't belong..." Before she could complete, Orochimaru appeared in front of her in a flash, lifting her up by the collar and throwing her, hard, into a wall. "No." he hissed through gritted teeth, and for a minute, Anko feared for her life. "Thanks to you and your wretched village, Mitsuki might as well forever stay in Konoha." Trying to get up, one hand on her throat, the former student gaped at him. "Wh... what?" "Oh, you're telling me you were not informed?" the sannin's tone dripped of heavy sarcasm. "What the hell are you talking about?!" The man turned his back on her, sparing only a brief glance at her. "If you value your life, do not try to follow me." And with that, he was gone. ... The sight of the blackened and barren forest right out of the borders came as a shock for the teams. It was almost mind-numbing - surreal - that a fight this ferocious happened so close to them without them noticing anything at all. In a silent agreement, the teams passed the area without a word, almost in a silent respect. Konohamaru was painfully aware that this place was where Mitsuki made his last stand. Still, with his mind set on one thing right now, to reach the Sound and find the woman who almost cost his student his life, he really didn’t expect he would still be paying attention to even the smallest details of his surroundings. Or maybe he was trying his hardest not to, to keep his focus. But he was a ninja, a jounin after all. The faint glimmer of light caught his eye as they were just about to leave the ghastly sight behind. Discreetly parting ways from the group, he made his way to the soft glimmer, something about it just drawing him closer like a magnet... … She didn't even wait to see the first tents - this was no time to sleep lightly. A bright light shone through the night, creating almost a day-like atmosphere, followed by a huge, rippling sound - but this was no explosion. Anyone who knew Yoshida Suzume knew that this was her kind of warning. "Wake up! Get going! Move! We need to LEAVE!" Slowly though at first, people began filing out. Suzume made sure that there wasn't anyone left inside, going into some of the tents herself to drag people out. "What's going on...?" "When did you come back?!" "Where are Takeru and Hideyoshi?" "They are not coming back! No time to explain! We need to move, NOW!" the woman yelled as she came out with a child in her arms. At once, there were murmurings surrounding the hundreds of people in the area. "We are not going anywhere until you make some explanations," came a strong, female voice, and a woman with long, orange-colored hair and fierce brown eyes came to the front. She had a young child clinging to her neck, looking around with sleepy eyes, his mahogany colored hair ruffled. "Why do we need to leave? Where are my husband and Takeru?" "He was killed!" the woman yelled finally. There were loud gasps. "And Takeru probably met the same end, or captured!" "W... what...?" the orange haired woman mumbled, as if in a trance. "Before we could even start the mission, we were attacked by a child! We had to defend ourselves and silence that kid forever - but if what I saw is anything to go by, he is, in a way, related to Orochimaru!" With her words, a silence gradually fell upon the people. Some of them looked very frightened by that last piece of news, but others looked at one another and one expression remained dominant; shock. "You... attacked a child...?" one of them asked finally. "We didn't have any other choice!" the woman snapped. "If we didn't kill that brat, the mission would have failed!" "Looks like it already did," another in the crowd said. "This mission was a mistake from the beginning..." Hideyoshi's wife mumbled. Some of the children had started crying. "Yeah, so what? What else were we supposed to do?! We all decided on this! Are you deaf - Orochimaru is coming for our heads!" "Hideyoshi would never fight a child!" the woman said while she put the child down and walked forward, towards the woman. "He did!" the other woman practically spat, glaring at the brown eyes. "Who do you think guided us to that child? Who do you think marked his route clearly so we wouldn't miss? Who..." SLAP! Suzume's head turned to a side, eyes slightly widened. "You are not gonna insult him in front of me any further." the orange haired woman said in a dangerous whisper. "There is no point in squabbling over a cast genjutsu," came an older voice then, and an aged woman came forward. Seeing her, Suzume immediately went over to her and knelt in front of her. "Kotone-sama, please... I swear that was the only logical solution... We were taught to put our mind before our heart and I swear I just abided by the Yoshida mantra... I..." "That's enough, Suzume." Kotone then raised her head to look at the other woman, who still had her hand in the air, looking at the younger woman with something akin to disgust. "Sasame, you might have ordered the Fuma out of the mission, but might I remind you that the Shiin, the Oberatsu and the Yoshida all agreed? I actually remember your husband being much honored for being called on this mission. You have no ground in lecturing us." Sasame gritted her teeth, her gaze drifting from the elder to Suzume. "If we have to run, let us run," she finally said, her voice tight. "But someone has to remain behind to cover our tracks." Her eyes held no mercy. "Kotone-sama..." Suzume whispered, looking at her with almost a plea. The elderly woman thought about it for a moment. "Even though you obeyed the Yoshida call, my child... Attacking a minor is still not in our book." The black haired woman's eyes widened, but she knew there would be no arguing to the point. "You will be punished... Of course, when you are finished, you will be allowed to rejoin us." Suzume bowed her head, gaze on the forest floor. "Yes, Kotone-sama." The elder woman then looked back at her clan. "Shall anyone wish to accompany her, I give my permission. Others, make your preparations quick. We are leaving." ... What... were all these...? The sannin felt his blood boiling as he gazed upon the Hokage's idea of 'childish pranks' on his son's door. To be fair, they were insignificant, he had seen much, so much worse during his seventy years of lifetime. But for a village that supposedly prided itself with its peaceful ways... They had no idea how this little drop would turn into a huge flood. His fists clenched a bit more, his teeth gritting as he looked at all of the images one by one, the words written... And he had actually believed that Konoha had changed for a better place. That was initially why he had decided to send Mitsuki back to his own village - that and his constant nagging. For one time in his life - foolishly, naively - he had believed in the young man who was now the Hokage - and even his own former teammate, Tsunade. He had thought that, as long as Mitsuki's identity was hidden, he would be safe and live the normal life he wanted - deserved all along. The red paint of the 'fire' stood out, almost mocking his thoughts. And his boy had still defended them. The image of Mitsuki, with all the severe injuries, once again came to his mind, and he closed his eyes for a minute, as if to not see the graffitis. He would make it his own ambition to make sure Konoha would crumble under the weight of his fury. His hands were shaking, the urge to kill, to make blood covering the streets rising. To make them pay... 'Please... spare... the village...' "We shall see how long I can hold on to that promise, child." Orochimaru murmured through gritted teeth and tried the door. It was locked of course, but it was hardly enough to stop him. The apartment was dark, cold and empty... Even more so now that it was missing his son. 'Come now, Mitsuki...' The sudden voice made the sannin do a double take. Where did that just come from? 'Repeat after me, sweetie... Da-ddy. Dad-dy. D... a... d... d... y...' He knew that voice... This was Karin... But how was that even possible - him hearing her voice from who knows how many years ago...? 'D... da... da...' came another, childish voice, stuttering over the basic word. 'That's right, go on. Daddy... call out for him.' Where was that voice coming from?! He started walking around the darkened house, looking around from room to room, following the childish jabbering. Just when he entered the bedroom... It was not enough to say that he was shocked when a small figure, a toddler about a year and a half of age at most, waddled his way towards him, stumbling, losing his balance and almost falling to the ground. After a couple more steps, the toddler started falling forward, but at the last moment managed to grab his legs. Although... he felt no weight. Then little Mitsuki looked up at him with a big grin, flashing a dozen of pearly-white teeth. 'Da-da!' he exclaimed gleefully and in excitement, before he slowly disappeared through thin air. The sannin closed his eyes for a moment... [Flashback] He was about ready to pull his hair off! It was not working. There was something very wrong with this experiment, and he was thinking this was all going good, the ‘donor’ was a good one after all, more than suitable. And during the nine months the fetus was in the tube, there had been nothing wrong - why now?! In a fit of rage - and without stopping to think what he would cause... the sannin let his fury explode. In less than a minute, the lab was lying in ruins... Broken glass, ruined wiring everywhere... Like a scene that was the aftermath of a battle... All... was lost after all... Just then he heard a strong sound, and his world came to a stop for a minute. A crying... a child... Or, more precisely, a new-born bawling his lungs out... Stunned, it took him another minute to get moving, but finally he moved through the broken tubes, to the one at the end of the left row... And there he was - the blue haired baby he watched growing for all this time... wailing so loud it was practically grating at his ears... More to just quiet him than anything, Orochimaru took the baby in his arms... Sniffling a bit, the baby slowly quieted down. [End of Flashback] Opening his eyes, the sannin sighed before mumbling to himself. "I should have never allowed you to come here..." ... A soft, orange light shone in the darkened room as a hand reached out to grab the phone that was ringing. A man with copper colored skin and blond hair squinted at the phone's screen while a woman with light brown hair half turned to look at him from his side. "What is it, baby?" "Naruto...?" Darui mumbled sleepily and pushed on the screen as he pressed a hand over his face. "You better have a good reason for calling me this early..." As he listened on, the young Raikage's eyes widened. "Goro and Hiraku?" Hearing that, his wife straightened up to a sitting position, putting a hand on his shoulder and leaning over. "No time to lose. I'm taking the first train over." He ended the call and hastily got up, getting ready. The woman got up, too, watching him. "Darui, what's going on?" Darui stopped in front of her and grabbed her arms. "Hitomi, I need to go to Konoha. Take care of Kumo in my absence." ... Looking over the vast clearing in the heart of the forest, Konohamaru felt his spirit failing. "We missed them...?" he mumbled, his eyes wide. "They didn't leave long ago." Kiba growled, his eyes scanning everywhere. "We can still follow them..." "That is not necessary." Ryu and two other ninjas who were scouting up ahead came towards them, excitement apparent in their eyes. "She is still here..." one of them started. "From what we saw, she is covering their tracks. There are two others with her, both kunoichi." "You can deal with them." Konohamaru said, determined. "Leave that woman to me." There was a pause. "Konohamaru..." Kakashi began. "Lord Sixth, please. All of you. Just make sure she doesn't run away, if your involvement becomes absolutely necessary. Otherwise stay out of my way, because I'm probably not gonna recognize you in the heat of the battle, so I can't guarantee your safety." Kakashi sighed but at his nod, no one said anything else. At Ryu's directions, the Konoha ninjas all took their places, getting out of sight. The gaze in the brunette's eyes hardened. "This is my fight."

[acedhigh]

SIEGEMAS 2020 @dualrainbow​ starring: Marius Streicher, Dominic Brunsmeier, Monika Weiss, Elias Kötz. main blog: @elitejager​ note: hey to anyone who reads this, I haven’t written anything in forever and the only time I’ve ever written a fic was a request, so this is a first for me. as an Autistic person I wanted to touch on the topic a little (i.e how the world views us versus how we view others and express ourselves) and incorporate it into my prompt for this piece. Marius inspires me a lot, I know he’s a popular part of Team Rainbow so I hope you all like it & happy holidays ✌

07 December.

As an icy chill snaked its way down his nape, Marius was reminded of the changed season. Days, weeks even, inside the workroom (his 'safehaven' as he called it to himself), made time and weather and all things mundane merge together in one big negligible blur. The transition between October into November now early December had seemed so...rapid. "Getting lost in one's work" was nothing short of apropos for this revelation; Unfazed by the cold however, he merely rolled down his sleeves and resumed gazing intently at his go-to site for ordering parts - Hated the white background (far too garish) but it offered the best of the best, and a quicker delivery schedule. He'd need it. It wasn't unusual for him to spend great bouts of time in one place. Even less unusual to be knee-deep in a project or two. But it was when morning frost and Christmas music became part of everyday life to crudely round off the year, that Monika and Elias were particularly attentive to Marius and his propensity to isolate. He'd been like that as long as they could recall. It could be almost jarring at first - His quips that'd rub less-familiar colleagues the wrong way, the speed at which his social battery would fizzle out like an ember, and a subtle arrogance which stepped on many toes. In contrast to Marius' heated and bull-headed nature, even his enthusiasm and eagerness to share or contribute somehow seemed misplaced or perhaps just poorly timed; Boundaries were a struggle and frequently crossed line despite how many walls he put between himself and others. He was unpredictable to most. "Hard to decipher", as Monika once put it. She was the first out of the four to recognize he was on the spectrum, and it tugged at her heartstrings to watch him endure contempt in place of a little understanding - But she vowed to hold her tongue. She did not want to patronise or belittle someone as bold as Marius. After all, in many ways she considered him to rival herself academically, and that garnered much of her respect. He was capable, he didn't need her or anybody else to coddle him or worry. Monika did not worry about him at all in fact, until this time of year.

16 December.

Elias had a similar view. Never had he met someone so rigid in his performance, so disciplined, yet so antsy. Must be the whole chaos of creativity, he thought. He recounted several incidences where he tried his hand at entertaining Marius, to no avail. Like things just didn't connect with him or tickle him the way Elias could achieve with others. But that didn't mean they lacked a connection at all - They were close, but where other people stood Marius was always one step further away, by his own accord. It was clear from the get go that the engineer liked to do things his way and per his agenda. Elias would grant him the favour of “breathing room” because he knew that although Marius held people at arms' length, beneath that eccentric exterior there was a shining heart of gold that cared deeply about the people he would shoo out of his workroom. Today was no exception, apparently.

"Hey, Marius--" There he was, ensconced in something technical of course, and drenched in fluorescent white light.

"No!"

"Huh--"

"Don't-- You can't look. Just...I'm busy. And I'm discussing this prototype of mine with the head of BMVg, whatever it is, it can wait."

Oops, Elias. "This isn't for prying eyes, it's commission work. I'll humour you later."

"Ah, err, got it. No peeking. Just don't work yourself to death and I'll check back in tonight. See ya!"

Yeah, this wasn't uncommon he muses, as he's met with a cold hand gesture towards the door. Though Elias couldn't help but wonder if maybe Marius was pushing himself even harder as to not think about the holidays. Dominic's relationship with him was different. Not as warm to the touch. And certainly more volatile, when tension arose. A clash of unorthodox personalities. They were polar opposites in one way, but fiercely empathetic in others, because pariahs stick together even when grating on each others' nerves - It was their non-conformity that made them a good team no matter how unconventional (and potentially troublesome) the dynamics. He knew how it was to be alone like the back of his hand. Maybe that too is the reason for their kinship, once all strain dissipated. Even he occasionally considered how his comrade handled the isolation; Dominic relished it to a degree, a darker mind who co-existed with his demons. But he knew Marius and he frequently observed his drive to form relationships only for them to fall flat or worse because of that same old disconnect Elias talked about on occasion. Never brought it up verbally but nothing could ghost Dominic's perusal. "Damn. Rejected again," Elias jests as he spots Dominic taking a break from playing grease monkey on his bike - Cigarette routinely positioned in mouth and garage wide open so that snow had begun collecting on the entrance floor. This wing was probably his safehaven, too.

"You should leave him to it." Dominic takes a long drag before expelling two plumes from his nose.

"Yeah I know, I know. Just seems wrong to not try. I don't think he's going home for Christmas. Hasn't heard from his Uncle for a couple of years...Not sure why. Marius tells me that's nothing out of the ordinary. Still, doesn't hurt to remind him we're around."

"He knows we're around. If you and Monika make a fuss it'll probably backfire."

"You could be right. But hey, buzzing in somebody’s ear is better than letting them feel ignored. I wouldn't be half as fun if I wasn't annoying."

"...Are you sure 'fun' is the right word?" Dominic concealed his smirk behind another toke.

"Whaaatever. Have a good night Brunsmeier. And don't get too cold old man! I don't know how you have the place all opened up on days like this. I don't want to come back tomorrow morning and find you in cryostasis."

"Uhuh. Well, snow chains. Fitting new ones on the tires and have to put 'em to the test somehow. See you, Smartass."

23 December.

The air was cold and dry and it permeated indoors but the serenity of snow blanketing everything for miles upon miles outweighed the chill in his lungs. Even the sun couldn’t thaw the ice nor interfere with celebrants having their white Christmas. From the moment he'd woken up that morning he rushed to get stuck back into his work without so much as cranking up the radiators. No matter the climate, it wouldn't deter him from his endeavours, much like Winter itself. As he fine-tuned his latest creation Marius felt overcome with accomplishment and relief knowing he had the rest of the day to spare after hours of trial and error. Fingers weaved and arms raised he stretched up high, taking a moment to admire the fully customised apparatus begging to be used. Fishing his phone out of a denim pocket he checked the time and grabbed one of the gift boxes wrapped neatly with a lavender bow. Monika would always make a point of going home to celebrate with her family - he'd heard many stories about her mother's Sauerbraten - and was always the first to leave to ensure she'd catch her flight. Ergo, her turn came first. His soles crunched against the virgin snow as Marius made his way to the dormitories. He could've forgotten the clean scent of fresh air or the sheer brightness the day can bring after spending a majority of his time hunkered down at the workroom. Cutting it close, he was fortunate enough to cross paths with Monika, luggage in her wake while punching in a numberpass for the electronic gate. "Monika!" He called out, waving her down.

"Hm?" Immediately she turned on her heel - Perhaps he startled her, or it was the (pleasant) surprise of hearing that familiar voice in another place other than his station or dorm.

"Monika, I'm glad I could catch you. Here--" Offering the palm sized box it was clear to the both of them that neither knew exactly how to handle the situation without underlying befuddlement. "--Frohe Weihnachten." (Merry Christmas). Ah yes, he'd forgotten that part. He wasn't well-versed in the act of gift giving - not face to face, at least...

"Really? For me?"

"Of course it is. It's purple. I don't know anybody else's favourite colour."

"I'm a little speechless...! Thank you Marius, and Frohe Weihnachten. I got something for you too, so did Elias. You were too busy we didn't think to disturb you and thought we'd leave them on your desk. You're welcome to pick them up yourself beneath the tree Emmanuelle and Yumiko set up in the foyer." Something akin to a glorified 'Secret Santa' Harry suggested for Team Rainbow to build on their camaraderie but appealed little to Dominic.

"Oh, that was unnecessary, but I'm grateful. Then I'm obliged to thank you as well. I didn't expect anything - I just wanted to see what I could come up with. I hope you like it."

"No act of benevolence is unnecessary. I'm tempted to open this up right here and now, I'm very curious. I'm going to show restraint however and open it tomorrow. I'll shoot you a message afterwards, OK?" She unzipped her case and placed it delicately atop folded clothes. Whatever it was, it seemed fragile, and would need the padding. "You take care of yourself Marius. Tschüss!" She passed through the gate and left with a smile.

24 December.

With more confidence after yesterday's exchange next in line was either Elias or Dominic, whoever he bumped into first. Today was bitterly cold and much darker, grey clouds hanging overhead almost as thick as the snow. Still, it was welcomed by those who enjoyed the seasonal comforts of lounging around; Vastly preferable to these scorching Summers in recent years, to Marius' admittance. He could spy from beyond his work station window that Dominic had the garage locked up early and was now dumping fodder to feed one of his burn barrel fires. To Marius, this had grown synonymous with Winter, and was a good way to gauge the severity of the weather - Dominic explained to him that it became habit from his undercover days, and was a quick & easy disposal method of...well, anything that could burn. Which sounded vaguely ominous with the way he put it, and there was no doubt in his mind that it absolutely was ominous. But that was then. He would ponder though, what his fellow operative saw in those flames. If he thought of an array of things and memories like a haunting myriad or maybe he just saw nothing more than a warming fire and burning magazines. It was hardly worth asking either, because he was scarcely linear, and seemed to quietly take pleasure in keeping people on their toes. An enigma for sure. They both were. Joining Dominic's side he could feel heat from the fire and the barrel itself as it raged on between them.

"You've been out here a while?" "An hour, maybe less." "Can't be too good for you. It's cold & flu season. If you're going to see your nephews and nieces, that's not wise." "I've dealt with worse." "Yes, that's true, I'm sure your lungs appreciate your pack-a-day fitness ritual." "If I smoked a pack a day, BPOL would give me the chop faster than any bad habits could on my life expectancy. Besides, I can still outrun you. Did you come here to give me health advice or was there something else?" "I know you well enough to know that giving you advice often goes unheeded." Much to my dismay. "So no, however--" He presents the red giftbox to Dominic, which he'd yet to acknowledge. Or he didn't care enough to ask. There's a visible confusion that reads in his otherwise stark expression - Like Monika's the day prior. Was it really so foreign for Marius to present his generosity this way? "Oh...?" "Open it, Dummkopf." Rather than muster some spur of the moment retort Dominic does as instructed. He settled the box in snow and crouched down to examine what awaited inside. "Pure silver electromagnetic rods. In a similar vein to an EMP device, rather, a preemptive attack on them and on your target. Think of them as an extension to your CEDs. Place them around in any formation you like to create an electromagnetic field; They will go live the moment your CEDs do. I've included a remote for functionality and to check that they're all within range of each other. The frequencies will be dizzying for enemy weaponry and at the touch of a button, shock anybody standing within the field's radius." Astounded, Dominic can only look down in disbelief at the device in his hands. It's one thing to fix up an old motorcycle, or even a car, but something of this calibre was truly belonging to a prodigious acumen. And that prodigy is Marius Streicher. "Oh, there's also armbands and a 'plate' you fit to the bottom of your footwear to absorb static and safeguard you from being on the receiving end of the electrogrid. That part should be a familiar concept." "..." "Well?" "I don't know how the hell you come up with this shit, but it's incredible." "Mmhmm. Of course it is, I made it. Brave of you to finally admit that." "Don't make me regret showing some gratitude. I mean it. Is this what you've been busying yourself with the whole month?" "Yeah, calculating pulse waveforms took more work than Monika's and Elias' upgrades, I readily accepted the challenge though." "You went to the trouble of making something for them too huh. Crazy." "I did yes. Monika's was no sweat. I pulled up the files on her RED Mk III and tweaked a few things. Utilising the same technology I fitted a lens-like screen to a headpiece, so the intel she needs is always in view, and her handling of weapons isn't compromised. I think she'll appreciate the purple tint I used for the lens. That, and it can also be used for her spelunking - The new and improved Spectre can see beyond solid walls several metres thick, and it can detect hollow spaces like tunnels. If she removes the chip and slots it into the drone I made for her - I'll reveal that part to her once she's back - she can apply the Spectre to airborne recon in the same way as the lens itself." "Now, you're showing off. She's going to use and abuse that thing every chance she gets." "Good. Then I won't have made it for nothing." "What about Elias, what did you give him?" "I haven't given him his yet which works out nicely." "I'm all ears, Brainiac." "Interesting moniker. Elias gets a conal radius motion & thermal detector that bolsters his ballistic shield. This will give him an increase in tactical advantage, by alerting him to whoever is in his vicinity. If there's an obstruction or he loses sight of the enemy he can find them with ease and make his move. Like Monika's, his can mimic the technology he's accustomed to and can also be detached and used with the specialised drone made for him. He'll be able to temporarily blind at range, or cause distraction, meaning if he keeps his wits about him he'll manage to play a part from long distances." Dominic spied something else in the box as Marius gave his run down on each of the devices. Brow furrowed he picks it up and examines it closely, unable to crack what purpose it served. "Hm. And this?" "That, is a personal touch. Call it whimsical but I think you'll like it. His drone is also yours." Shooting the engineer a bewildered glance Dominic held the second remote in hand, waiting expectantly to understand its significance and what exactly made it so 'whimsical'. "I had trouble coming up with a unique quality for each of you. You're both irreverent in your sense of humour, so I decided to play on that. Elias' drone also has a compartment where something, such as a flashbang for example, can be stored and dropped at command. I'll tell him about that. What I won't tell him however is that you have full access to the drone with that control you're holding. I'll leave it to your imagination to invent shenanigans of your own design. It ought to appease your prankster inclinations," Marius smiled knowingly, but only just - A sliver of the pride gathering in his center. Dominic's was blatant and devilish; Cogs turning in his mind already. But moreso this was a gift with meaning, and understanding to a level that excelled clinical intelligence. He had captured all three of them as operatives and as people, as friends, in the best way he knew how. Each gadget was far from mere machinery. Like polaroids immortalising their merits on the field and in life. "Don't expect to hear this out of me again anytime soon but you've outdone yourself." "Hah! It's worth the effort just to wring sincerity out of you, you ornery bastard." "Yeah, yeah, pot calling the kettle black. I know you're not a drinker but come on, show me how to use this thing over a pint - and bring the drone. I want to get Elias back for all his gaudy Christmas music in the dorms. I considered smothering him with his pillow, but this will suffice." He sneered, amused by his own facetiousness. "I know you don't have anything else planned so I'm not giving you much of a choice." After placing everything back in its box Dominic stood up to give his friend a gracious pat on the back. Marius noticed a glint in his eye he hadn't been privy to before - one unlike the dispassion that most would consider default to 'Bandit' - perhaps they were both seeing each other in a different light. An aspect they kept tucked away, save for rare junctures such as these. "Fine. I'll agree, considering the occasion. Might as well get into the spirit of things a little. Frohe Weihnachten, Dominic." "Frohe Weihnachten."

[saikagerights]

Technical Difficulties

Hello Saiino nation!

I am beginning my return a little earlier than I anticipated! I’ve decided to throw caution to the wind today and start work on my upcoming projects for the winter and the highly anticipated Yamanaka Week 2021. But I realize that I first must post this leftover oneshot that was written right before my school hiatus in August. A little background behind this fic is that it was inspired by an art drawn by our nation’s very own @sugarriene. It was something that stuck in my mind long enough that I had to write about it and there we go! I even added a mild bit of angst for the culture!

Read on Ao3

“KYAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

Right on cue, her husband peaked into the room. What he had witnessed was an utter catastrophe. 6 ink mice crawling across her body and she was understandably horrified.

“What’s wro-” “Ah. I see...”

“SAI! DON’T JUST STAND THERE! FIX THIS!”

“Uh…” He stuttered, proving he was just as useless in handling this as she expected. “A-as much as I would like to assist you, I am unable to control them. These are not made of my chakra.” Of course they weren’t his! Sai wasn’t the type to pull pranks like this. And even if it wasn’t a joke, he had a much better handle with his ink. There was only one other person who could be responsible.

“INOJI-mmmmph” Her husband’s hand swiftly covered her mouth to muffle her. She had an inkling of an idea to bite it.

“Don’t do that.” “If his concentration breaks, your clothes will be stained.” As rude as Sai was being, he did have a point. She would prefer it not get any worse than it could be, or else her son would be in for a lot more trouble than he anticipated. Perhaps it was just a mistake. It better be a mistake or she would make sure that the boy wished he hadn’t learned to use that brush in the first place.

His deft fingers gently scooped up two of the mice from her shoulders. The unrestrained gesture would typically make her stutter and blush at his forwardness, but in her current predicament all she could do is stand there holding back a yelp. “Just sit tight. I will handle this.”

With that, her husband swiftly left the room, leaving her alone with only her son’s animated mice to keep her company. Ino had nothing more to truly fear. She could trust Sai to fix this. It was his expertise, afterall. Maybe this time her husband would actually act like a father for once and discipline their son. She inwardly sighed; That was a long shot for sure, but she could only hope.

Inojin knew he messed up. And his fate had been sealed the moment he heard his mother’s shrill scream from down the hall.

______________________________________________________________

He was dead

He was so dead

He had always been instructed by mom to only practice the Choujuu Giga outside, but it had been raining. Dad had advised him (without mom’s knowledge of course) so that he could successfully practice indoors in the safety of his room as long as the door had been shut. And to his misfortune, he forgot the step regarding the closed door. At least he had solace that his father would also be punished. If she realized that they had conspired like this from under her nose than they would both be in for it.

The mouse perched upon his head turned towards the door with him when he heard his father’s footsteps approach his room

“Dad”

“You’ve lost control.” He fully entered the room, closing the door behind him with his foot until it was only slightly open. He had an ink mouse in each of his hands, struggling against the pressure of his grip.

He chuckled nervously. “You noticed?”

His father was never one to raise his voice, but he did express his disapproval through soft sighs and furrowed brows. He was already aware of how much trouble he was going to get into with mom.

“Do you know what caused this?”

Inojin shrugged “I don’t know how it happened, but I was fine until mom called for me.” His head dropped and the mouse tumbled to the floor, splattering into black ink onto the wood. So much for keeping tidy. “Then a bunch of them escaped.” He looked timidly back up to his father. “She found them, didn’t she.”

“Oh she found them pretty well actually. I plucked these ones right from her body.” Inojin’s stomach lurched. He was worse off than he initially thought. Dad looked down at the mice in his hands. His thumbs had secured their heads, calming their struggles down. “These drawings do not have a mind of their own, nor are they entirely mindless.” He crouched beside Inojin, setting the mice onto his scroll. He was surprised that they didn’t scamper off like before. They only sat there looking up at him. “They are an extension of your will, Inojin. They rely on you to move, so one little distraction may change their direction entirely. You must remember this.”

He did remember. Dad had been telling him that for years, ever since he was young. But here he is now, still making the same mistakes as he did when he was 5. How was he supposed to get any better at this rate? His frustration stirred within him and the mice sitting on the scroll began to tremble and distort. They were going to break at this point, and it would all be over and mom would come for both of them. His father’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, the tension built up in his body slowly releasing. “Mistakes are bound to happen, though. You are still learning.”  Dad’s smile was warm and encouraging, something that Inojin couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“You lost control like this too, right?”

The smile hadn’t faltered. “Of course I did. The Choujuu Giga was something I mastered on my own, so I made plenty of mistakes. In fact, I did something like this to my brother as well.” Inojin’s curiosity piqued at the mention of his uncle. His father’s sworn brother had tragically died years before he had been born.

“What happened?”

His father’s smile began to shift, pursing his lips as if he had been holding back a laugh. “I had drawn a snake, and when I wasn’t paying attention, it constricted him until it burst. He was completely coated in ink!” Telling the story alone was enough to free his laughter. It was a sight to behold, as he was usually very slow with humor. It must’ve been a cherished memory for him. “Anyway, I hardly saw him the rest of the week. He was probably too angry with me to talk, but I’m sure he found it as funny as I did.”

Inojin gave a worthless sniff, gluing his eyes to the scroll in front of him. The mice retained their shape, now crawling towards him. “I think you were too concerned with what Mom wanted, so they decided to figure it out for themselves. And now all you have to do is fear her wrath.” Inojin’s fingers shot up into a sign and the mice immediately scurried back to him.

The misunderstanding was eventually cleared after numerous apologies and pleas to Mom. She didn’t kill him like he envisioned, but that didn’t mean he was completely in the clear.

___________________________________________________________

Although Dad did talk her down to a week, his video games would still be confiscated. Probably locked in the same place as his father’s expensive paints for hiding from her.

___________________________________________________________

“Your clothes are stained.” The imposing presence of Danzou-sama stood before him. “Why is that?” His question barely above a whisper, drenched in suspicion. But he could already tell from his half-lidded gaze that he wasn’t impressed.

But then again, he wasn’t impressed by much...

The white haired boy stood relaxed, his eyes to one of the many trees that surrounded them. Anything was better than looking directly at him. “We were sparring. He lost control and now I’m covered in ink.”

The sounds of calming wooded atmosphere was drowned out by his master’s silence

“Look at me” His voice was still no louder than it had been before, but held a commanding power that struck fear into the boy’s heart. He forced his gaze up.

“A loss of control is not something I tolerate.” His hand moved to reach towards his bandaged eye...

“No! Please don’t punish him. He’s getting there, he just needs more practice.” The boy pleaded. Realizing that this was out of line, he swiftly bowed. “Please, forgive us!” His brother was still too young and inexperienced. He’d hate for him to receive their master’s swift hand over a simple accident.

“Very well. But I best not bare witness to such a sight ever again, or there will be consequences for the both of you. Although you may believe you are noble in taking the blame for his mistakes, it is actually a foolish endeavor.”

The boy’s eyes widened and panic set in his chest as Danzou-sama turned to trudge his way back into the forest. And just before he thought he was safe enough to catch his breath, the man halted his steps. “You know that there is no room for weak shinobi in my ranks.” He turned his head slightly around, the atmosphere intensifying. “And If he so much as passes without meeting my standards, I will do everything in my power to make sure your death is insignificant.”

And with that, Danzou-sama was gone in a cloud of smoke.

The boy’s knees buckled beneath his weight, collapsing into a seated position. Gasping for air, his lungs felt ablaze. He couldn’t restrain the coughing fit that ravaged his body, grasping tightly at his ink-stained shirt.

as much as he wanted to persuade himself that he was fine.

He was still able to keep up with his master’s demands.

He was still able to live with his brother without fear of what was to come.

He gritted his teeth. That wicked man still held them firmly within his control, his brother knowing not of what truly awaited him. Soon his brother would be all alone and forced to bear the weight of Danzou-sama’s will. His brother had to be prepared for that burden or else he could never truly be free.

____________________________________________________________

And there it is! I hope you enjoyed this long time coming one shot! 

Until Next Time!

-Saikage

[salenakingston]

Mystery March Day 5 - Dream

(I wanted to try a bit of a different style when writing this one. I hope it turned out alright.)

Night covered the sky, dots of white accompanying the glow of the moon. Arthur’s gaze peered out the window, the soft sound of music echoing through his room. He was hunched over his desk, just as always. When he wasn’t running around to chase the “supernatural” or helping his uncle at Kingsmen Mechanics, he busied himself with his projects. Between the blueprints, side notes, tools, and metal pieces littering the surface of wood, it was a wonder there was still brown peeking through.

His attention was pulled back down to the mess, somehow ‘organized’ in a way that only he knew. They briefly trailed over to the clock set upon a nightstand. Whoops. Guess he had been up longer than anticipated… again.

How could he not lose track of time when it came to something he was so passionate about? None of his other friends could understand it, nor could his uncle too much for that matter. Then again, it didn’t really matter if they did or didn’t. So long as he could share his fascination in the subject with those he cared about, then it was enough.

The blond pulled himself from his work, throwing back the covers of his bed. Settling down, he pulled the covers back over his form, eye drooping as the melody of music began to lull him sleep. Guess he forgot to shut it off. Oh well, he was already in bed. Surely no one would mind if it was left playing. Uncle Lance was probably asleep already anyways.

The soft humming swirled around him, beating in tune with his heart.

When it's just you

And it's just me

Got the window down 'cause it's my fantasy

You feel so good

Right next to me

You're exactly what I'm looking for

The van hummed down the road, Lewis sitting at the wheel. He always seemed to be the one driving while the blond always fixed it when something went wrong. Should he not be the one driving it then? It never bothered him, and knew his friend was as careful as possible. None of them could foresee every event playing out before they arrived on the scene. Viv would find the haunts, be it through rumors, news articles, or some lead online. She could always find one without fail.

And then they were on the road without so much as a second thought.

Shouldn’t he be concerned with their safety? Of course he was, but he had their back. Shouldn’t he try and stop them, or mostly the bluenette, from chasing after danger? Of course, but he didn’t. Wasn’t he scared just about every time they went on one of these outings? Of course he was, but that didn’t stop him from coming. Truth be told, it never mattered what they were doing. They could be staring death in the face, and while he was sure he would cower in fright, he could never imagine abandoning his friends.

They meant everything to him, just as much as his uncle.

They might not have known it, but they gave him so much, and sometimes it felt like he could never give anything in return.

He could hear Vivi’s laughter from the front seat snap him away from his wandering thoughts. Mystery was up front with her, leaving him in the back. Anyone else might have been annoyed, but it never bothered him. All that mattered was that he was acknowledged. Anything else was far too petty to get upset over.

The van soon came to a halt, Arthur peeking over the back seats. The scene outside the window was about as much as he expected. Another creepy, old house, his friends outside… waiting for him. A smile formed on his face, hurrying out the back door to join them.

Yes, it truly didn’t matter how many times he got dragged along on their interest trips, or how many times he got scared, so long as they were there with him. They always protected him.

Arthur woke up in bed, a large smile covering his face.

Put your hands together girl

'Cause your love is like a dream to me

Put your hands together girl

'Cause your love is like a dream

The van hummed down the road again, the same one as before. Like always, his three friends sat in the front while he was relegated to the back. Everything seemed to be the same, but he could tell immediately that something was off. What was this strange feeling? Literally nothing had changed.

Except it had.

Lewis had taken his eyes off the road for just a moment, enough to lean over and kiss Vivi. Right… They were together now. What was once just three friends and their dog traveling across the country in hunts of the strange became a loving couple with their third wheel. Mystery didn’t really factor in that much between the scenarios, only now that he was the only one in the back, he truly did feel alone.

Why couldn’t the dog sit with him instead?

What difference did it make? It didn’t bother him before.

The bluenette turned her head over the seat. Vivi was a kind soul, even if over enthusiastic about her interests. She had so much affection to give to those she cared most for. She never did anything to make him feel like he was being pushed away. Where was that now? Everything that once made her bright began to dissolve. Their colors began to fade, leaving him the only bright being in the van. She turned back, a switch flipped. Why was he not important anymore?

Why couldn’t they seem to take notice of him anymore?

He reached out for her, for her… for them. The van stretched, the distance between them growing. When he tried to speak, no words came. His mouth opened and closed normally, but his voice was overtaken by silence. His desire to call out to them, to have them notice him like they always did, grew infinitely.

But he didn’t have that right didn’t he?

Who was he to come between them?

Arthur woke up in bed, his smile faltering.

And I never knew

All the things you do

And I guess it's cool to know the way you feel is true

And I wonder why

If there's no time

It feels like everything is lining up just right

Cold and damp.

Darkness seemed to surround him, the only light around him being the shimmer of green bouncing off stones. The low screech of bats rang out around him, fog encasing his body. It began to suffocate him, as if he were trapped in a small space, the fog stealing his breath.

Then a small flicker of hope.

In the center of the darkness was a wisp of orange flame. It floated in front of him, just out of reach. It contrasted the green around him, drawing the blond. Like a moth to the flame as the saying went. He wanted that flame. It would help him get out of this mess. He wasn’t entirely sure why he thought that, but it was one thing he knew for sure. If only he could get his hands to that flame. Fog gripped at him like chains, making him fight harder.

So close.

Not yet.

Tips nearly brushed the flame, hope blazing through his being.

Very well then.

The bonds loosened, his arm moving forward towards the light.

Orange fell at his feet, illuminating the cliff he now stood on. A cliff? When did he get here? How did he get here? Panic began to settle in. That sensitivity he could feel crackling from the flares was gone now. What changed?

A scream.

Head shot up in an instant. The scream was growing further and further away from where he was standing. It echoed off the walls of the cave he was in, green surrounding him once again. The cries soon came to a sudden stop, and only then did his body begin to move. Feet were placed over the edge, gaze looking over a sea of points. In between the gray that covered his vision was purple… and red.

Once again, his voice seemed to fail him, but one thing rang out in his head.

LEWIS!

Arthur woke with a start in his hospital bed, body shaking as pain snaked down his missing limb.

When it's just you

And it's just me

Got the windows down 'cause it's my fantasy

You feel so good

Right next to me

You're exactly what I'm looking for

Green… there was nothing but green whenever he was awake. When there wasn’t green, there was black. Neither color brought him any kind of comfort, dread clinging to the very fibers of his being. Once again he found himself on that cliff, overlooking the mesh of the same three colors: gray, purple, and red. Green came into view again, only when his arms were stretched out.

Even there, it was always green.

But he knew how this would end. He had grown to anticipate it.

He would be met with pain.

Any moment now.

Any moment now…

Nothing.

This was strange. Why was there no pain? No monster to make him pay for whatever he had done? He could feel a strain on his mouth, one that someone might feel if they were smiling for too long. Iron hung in the air, his body finally turning away from the chasm. This was new. The smell just grew stronger as he followed the path down from the cliff. He could see more colors from the corner of his eyes. White, black, and red. Mystery?

That can’t be right. No wait, those were the same colors that matched the monster. What happened to it? And why was the iron the strongest around those colors?

They passed, a crossroads offered to him. He began one that led further down into the cave. Why go there?

He could hear crying. Wait…

Vivi?

Of course, she went down the other path. No.. wait, she went down that path! And he was heading down the same one. Both colors he passed were red, deep and pooling over the other colors. Blue began to mix with red in his vision before he could see the entrance to the lower level. He couldn’t handle it. He didn’t want to see the red and blue together. He didn’t like all the red.

No! Please! Don’t!

Arthur woke up with a start in bed, hand clinging to his throbbing shoulder.

Put your hands together girl

'Cause your love is like a dream to me

Put your hands together girl

'Cause your love is like a dream

Tempo? What was he doing here?

Arthur was vaguely aware he had fallen asleep before appearing here. Where there was usually green was replaced with a clear sky hanging over their hometown. This was.. Very strange. Why was there no green anymore? Why was he here? And why was he standing outside Tomb Tome? This was Vivi’s workplace… but of all places, why here?

Amber eyes snapped forward, the woman of the hour stepping through the door. Almost immediately, she linked her arm with his own, the two now walking down the street together. Ok, still nothing too out of the ordinary. They were friends, and it was common for her to drag him all over the place. Arthur seemed to find his smile, listening to whatever it was she was rambling on about.

The road started to look familiar, recognizing it as the one that led to Vivi’s home. Ok, so maybe he was just walking her home from work. Friends did that. He took her up to the door, their arms finally breaking their link. They smiled at one another, Vivi getting closer to him.

Ok, that is strange.

The bluenette leaned up, planting a kiss on his lips. Nervousness wracked his body. Was it nervousness? Or was it excitement? What was wrong with him? He raised his hand, brushing his fingers along her cheek as he returned her kiss. There. Now he could see what was wrong.

His arm was green. He must not have noticed before since she linked with his metal arm.

This was wrong, all of it was. He wasn’t supposed to want her. He wasn’t supposed to share this kind of love with her. She loved another, even if she didn’t remember him. He wasn’t Lewis. He wasn’t her flame.

This was wrong!

Arthur woke up in the back of the van, Vivi resting at his side. He carefully slipped away from her, fleeing out the back doors.

You're my girl

But not my world

Don't get it twisted

You got me scared

I'm not prepared

And I really didn't mean to fall in love again

Arthur immediately found himself dropped in the mansion, the very same one the trio just escaped from. As if being chased through the halls by a flaming skeleton wasn’t bad enough to suffer through. That ghost wouldn’t give up on him, not until Vivi got in the way.

There was no Vivi this time.

The blond took off running, heat tickling the hairs on the back of his neck. He didn’t dare look behind him, focusing on keeping his life. One quick glance down at his arm confirmed the green that always clung to his being. Ever since he started appearing in the cave, there was nothing but green over him. He couldn’t understand it. Why was it always green? Why him? What did he do to have this happen?

The hall never seemed to have an end. He would keep running, turning, running, then another turn, maybe an up, then down, but it never came to an end. He always ran. He was growing tired, his lungs burning from being unable to stop.

A voice echoed behind him.

“How dare you!”

Running.

“How could you take her away from me?”

Running.

“Monster!”

Running.

“Traitor!”

CRASH.

The blond looked upon the wall he crashed into. The hall finally came to an end. End of the line. His head finally turned over his shoulder, the ghost towering over him, far larger than he remembered. Everything was consumed by purple flames, his voice crying out for a mercy he would not receive.

Arthur woke up with a start in the van, hands clamped over his mouth to keep Vivi from waking up again. Best to get some work done on the van since he wasn’t going back to sleep.

When it's just you

And it's just me

Got the windows down 'cause it's my fantasy

You feel so good

Right next to me

You're exactly what I'm looking for

Arthur killed Lewis.

He killed Lewis.

He killed his best friend.

How could he forgive himself for that? Suddenly so many things made sense. The reason why his skin was always green, even now. He looked like a monster because he was a monster. He’d killed someone. Should it matter that it wasn’t something he personally did, but rather under possession of another entity? No.. it was still his arm that did the deed.

He could hear Vivi crying. Was that because of her returned memories, or the realization that one of her best friends was a murderer? Regardless, he should comfort her. Strange that Lewis was not around. Oh right… he wouldn’t be because she didn’t fully trust him, not after trying to get revenge on Arthur. Another mess that was his fault.

He came over to her, wrapping his arms around her. This could only end in tears.

His skin was still green.

His hands moved up, hands closing around her throat. There were no spires to take the life away from her. He would have to do it himself. Tears raced down his face, feeling the fight leave her. He had killed once before, wait was another time? He hated this. He hated himself. He could never forgive himself.

Arthur woke up with a start in the hotel bed. They were out on a case, and he was in bed… alone.

Put your hands together girl

'Cause your love feels like a dream to me

Put your hands together girl

'Cause your love feels like a dream

Two ghosts stared down at him as he burned. Purple and blue flames danced around him, his cries the song that kept them playing. He didn’t kill her, but he might as well have. The two people he cared about the most, and the two people he wronged. He deserved this. No. He deserved worse than this.

His life for theirs. He’d give it gladly. And he wouldn’t dare to come back.

They would be rid of the monster from their life.

Then, the flames suddenly came to a halt. The looming ghosts vanished, leaving his two best friends, in the flesh. What was going on? How did this happen? What were they going to do now? Was this a torture to remind him of the life he took from them? They approached him, but their arms wrapped around him. Their warmth swirled around him.

What?

He was hesitant to embrace them back, arms shaking as they moved up. He noticed something else that changed. His skin was no longer green. How long had his dreams been plagued with the image of the monster that took one life, and dreamed of taking another? How could he be forgiven? Tears came back to his face.

They saved him once. Did they do it again?

Arthur woke up in the hotel bed, Lewis and Vivi on either side of him. Their arms were wrapped around him, there to chase the demons in his head away.

[writingonesdreams]

The tears of silver night

About a dragon and a boy mourning in different ways and together. 

This takes place after the ending of 5th Magic, not sure if it will be canon or not. You don’t have to know the wip to understand, but I do wonder what you would think if you do. :D I dreamed about this the whole week and I loved writing it now in one go.

Sometime he just wants to run away.

Not to be who he is, not to be where he was left behind. It's impossible to do for long though.

The presence of his parents is everywhere. Their legend hangs in the air like a heavy cloud before a storm, their names whispered in admiration. The legacy of the changes they brought to the world, the wars they ended, the storms they stilled. 

And Alec, their only 8 year old son. 

It's not like he has time to be lonely. There are countless big brothers and sisters that have either worked with or under his famous parents, people that are all too eager to help. All those mentors, students and fans that would do anything to be in his presence, all those family friends that promise him a bright future and believe in his uniqueness.

He doesn't care about being special. He would much rather be normal and had his parents around. 

It's not fair. It's not fair they gave themselves up to the world and didn't think to leave anything for their own child.

Shouldn't he had the priority right? For their time, attention and care? 

Those people, they don't understand. His uncles, those that look almost exactly like his father don't understand him, they aren't him. Nor do the generals, his mom's most trusted comrades. 

He is alone in his anger, one that the world wouldn't agree with.

Alec runs along the shore, kicking the stones on the way into the sea. Sea, his mother's favorite place. Even in death, he can't be free of her presence in everything she cherished. 

He runs until he can't breathe, until the lights and chatter no longer reach him. There, between the reefs, only with the annoying sound of clashing waves, does he sit down, his lungs burning so much he can't do more than breathe in the salty air. It's in pain he realizes the present the most, the overwhelming pain of senses and body.

It brings him peace to feel it on the outside. He can't deal with the other one. It's like he is frozen inside, numb where the love is supposed to be, with a blanket of anger over it and whirlwinds of frustration around he doesn't understand. 

He sits in silence watching the sun coming down, relishing the pain of the itching rocks and biting cold.

That's when he sees it. A flicker of silver between the rocks, the scraping on the sand. 

Crouched on the ground, he crawls forward, his heartbeat loud in his ears.

There is a dragon on the beach.

Just as few meters away, in all his magnificence. Long snake-like body glitters in all shades of white, silver and gold, a thick dark mane and a almost dog like muzzle. His legs are so short compared to his length, but ending with impressive bent claws. 

Alec almost forgets to breathe. He never saw so much dangerous beauty all at once.

The dragon doesn't look peaceful. It scrambles on the rocks, coiling between the reefs, his tail slashing restlessly.

Alec heard about dragons. They were the most powerful magical spirits, beings of pure magic with their own will. They have been invisible for most humans, even the most skilled mages. 

You had to see the world in a special way to be able to perceive them. Feel the magic for its viability. And they had to be very strong, wanting to be seen. It was only possible in places where energy flow was strong and many mages with an open presence and clear minds were around.

Alec isn't sure he counts as either. He is still a child and his mind is anything but open and clear right now. 

The dragon twists its head sideways. Alec lowers himself a little more down, chin scuffing the ground. 

The dragon sniffs the air and turns its head - and for a moment he can't measure, Alec can see only his endless shining eyes. There is no name for those colours, they change in chaos of sparks and shadows. Frozen in fear and fascination, he felt like the dragon could see right into his soul. 

And then it is over. The dragon turns and springs away right into the sea and disappears in the waves, his long tail and slender body slipping out of sight. 

Alec goes home that night feeling weirdly satisfied. Like he has found something that is finally only his.

###

Alec keeps returning to the rocks. Looking for the dragon is probably not a smart idea. He doesn't have to like humans, he might even hurt him if he keeps bothering him. But Alec can't make himself worry. Or feel anything much at all. 

So he looks between the rocks, climbs the reefs until he finds a small clearing between the high pointy edges. Alec can feel the magic of this place, mixing in with the ocean's weight and salty wind. This would be an ideal place for a magical spirit.

So he waits. He waits until dawn, when the dragon comes again. Emerging from the sea, shaking the water out of its mane. 

He curls in the clearing, stretching its long snake body. Then he keeps still, watching over the height reefs into the water. 

There is something melancholic about the sight, a taste Alec can't quite name, but recognizes as familiar. If he felt something, he might have felt like this beast.

The dragon clips his ears, as if hearing Alec’s loud breathing, flipping its tail in annoyance. But it doesn’t move away or nearer and soon lies down to rest, ignoring the boy behind him.

Alec takes it as a permission. 

###

He keeps coming back not really knowing what he expects to happen. In the blur of the days that follow, he doesn’t remember and he doesn’t care for anything else, but sneaking away to see the dragon.  

Each day he dares to come a bit closer, until the dragon shifts uneasily or jumps away and Alec knows to keep his distance for a few days before trying again.

His parents left something amazing behind, made a mark on the world and yet he hides alone, not wanting to be reminded, not feeling proud.

It bothers him sometimes, but he doesn’t want help. There is no relief to be found in this. They are everywhere, but they are never really here and it’s tiring to realize it every day. 

###

Days get longer with the nearing summer. He is glad he doesn’t have to leave, that these people would do anything to keep him happy, even if he doesn’t know what that is other than staying away. 

It hurts them, being pushed away and he doesn’t want to hurt them. What is he supposed to do? 

He doesn’t think the dragon understands him any better. They do, and they are right there, inside, waiting for him, wanting him and Alec knows he is lucky to have them. He should feel thankful and at peace.

But he only feels at peace right here, with the only being that doesn’t care. Doesn’t care who he is, what’s wrong with him or how he is feeling. The dragon doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t welcome or chase him away. 

He isn’t expecting him to throw tantrums, burst into tears or shut the doors. Isn’t waiting for his undeniable talent to show. Not for his blood to prove its worth or start taking over the legacy left behind.

The dragon doesn’t care and so Alec doesn’t feel so wrong, being just himself. 

###

“He always comes here and yet you never talked? Not even once?”

Wes wriggles restlessly, rubbing his hands along his arms as if he is cold in his human form, despite the clothes that always appear alongside it. 

“Kid doesn’t need talking. He has you for that.”

“That’s the thing. He hardly talks at all. Always has this bored stoick expression on his face. All he does is so mechanical, like he is on autopilot.”

“Kyler was the same.”

“Yes!” Grayson throws his hands into the air and starts pacing in a circle. “But he was a clone with years of abuse behind him! The kid has everything he didn’t. That we didn’t. He was born, not created, he is loved where we were just sharpened into shape.”

Grayson paces a bit more, feeling the dragon’s colour changing eyes on him. It’s easier to read the annoyance in his human face. 

“I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” He says curtly, knowing the dragon doesn’t have the patience to listen to him for much longer. 

“He is not like his parents then.” 

“Who else would he be like?” What a stupid statement. 

Wes shrugs and stands up, having enough for one day. 

###

Wes isn’t sure what he is so angry about, but he can’t stand humans anymore. He doesn’t want to be near them, doesn’t want to see the familiar faces or show off. 

Not when Acacia and Kyler aren’t among them. 

Diving into the sea and losing himself in the currents became his favourite escape. The flashy mage world seems so far away in the immersive but endlessly silent deepness of water. Their annoying songs, talks and noises from the beach muffled in this dimension, where sight, smell and sound feel so different. 

It’s the only escape he has left, since Acacia has taken his joy of flying from him. He can’t go to the sky without thinking of her, how she held his horns, laughed as he twirled in the clouds, her golden hair flying behind her.

The kid doesn’t look like her. His hair is too dark, his features too sharp and his eyes are the wrong shade of gray.

Kyler has taken lighting from him. The Pulsor mage loved hearing the thunder, being close to storms. His heartbeat in sync with the pulse of the sky, when he teleported high into the clouds and wanted to race the dragons. 

Such an arrogant fun mage. They don’t make mages like this these days.

His brothers are so boring, don’t have the same spark in their eyes as their clone.

The kid isn’t like him either. Hair isn’t raven black, but a muddy brown-blond, and his nose and cheeks are too much like Acacia’s.

Alec just isn’t them. 

Wes wouldn’t talk to him, wouldn’t show him his human form. He has had enough of it for next couple of centuries. He answered to Grayson out of respect for his brother, but he would stop coming to his calls like a faithful dog soon enough.

Dragons weren’t meant to be around humans anyway. Getting involved in their petty insignificant little lives was the worst mistake he has ever made. Letting himself care about them, knowing their time wouldn’t last even a breath of his out of nature. And sometimes not even that. 

Yet he can’t turn the kid away. 

At first he was curious, wanting to see if there was anything left from his parents. But the kid was a strange mix, both and none at the same time and it just makes him anxious now. But he can’t make himself leave for too long, knowing he is there. 

###

The kid doesn’t talk, but it wants to be close. Wes doesn’t know why, would prefer it if he didn’t.

But he looks so excited, crawling a bit closer each time, until they are foot apart. And he reaches his hand and touches him at the side. Pulls away quickly, like burned, before trying again. 

The feel of a human hand running along his scales is a unique feeling you won’t get anywhere else but from the humans themselves. Wes is surprised he missed it, thinking he would not allow it again. That no one else would be worth bearing it for.

The kid looks happy, genuinely happy for once and his smile is not like Acacia’s, not like Kyler’s.

But it’s neat anyway.

###

The kid talks sometimes now. About his day, about his friends in school. About what changed and what didn’t.

Wes falls asleep to his chatter each time, somehow appeased by his voice, by the life returning into it. 

As he does, sometimes he can hear Acacia in his tone. Her philosophical, abstract thoughts, how she noticed things that no one else did. 

It jolts him awake each time, in delighted surprise she is back, followed by horror of the realization she isn’t right after. 

The boy moves closer, when it happens, as if he needed soothing from a child. As if it would help.

###

When the kid comes back all sullen and angry, he finds himself resisting the urge to turn into the human form. To ask him, to talk, to calm him like humans do.

But it’s not a human he needs. Acacia didn’t either.

So he does what a dragon would do. He pushed his head under his arm, nudges him towards his back, lets him wrap his arms around him, before leaping.

He goes for the sea, because the sea helps, muffles the reality of the shining world.

Being careful of the boy’s breathing, he leaps and dives and flows with the currents and against them. And the boy is smiling at the end. He flashes him Kyler’s smile, Acacia’s eyes shining with joy. It’s them both and none, and somehow he feels comfort and not anger this time around. 

###

“Alec is getting better. Did you talk to him yet?”

“I don’t need to.”

Grayson rolls his eyes.

“Just wanted you to know, whatever you are doing is helping. He talks more, smiles more. Less like a robot now.” He nods his head. “They would have been grateful to you.” 

“I’m not doing it for them.” 

Kyler’s brother raises a disbelieving eyebrow.

“Did Alec grow on you that much?” Grayson laughs. “He truly is his parents’ child.” 

“He is not them. You should stop seeing him that way. Maybe he would be more with his own and less with me then.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” The pitch in Grayson’s voice tells Wes it does. 

###

The thought hunts him. If he wasn’t a legendary dragon, a rare sight, would the kid still come?

If the kid knew he was like all the humans, comparing him, looking for shadows of his parents in him, would he turn away? 

He keeps away from the shore for a few days, writhing in doubts. 

No. He isn’t like the stupid humans. A dragon is a dragon and he won’t be ashamed of it. A dragon only does what he feels like doing. It wasn’t because of the kid he wanted to be in his true form. 

Wes was wrong about something else. 

It’s not just a random kid or their kid - he is so much more. It’s a boy that likes similar things, who sometimes acts like them and sometimes doesn’t. Who knew them, but also didn’t. Being someone new, combining them, surpassing them. He can’t be exactly like them, because he is his own person. 

Yet they are also part of him, inside him and Wes understands now. Humans aren’t as fragile as he thought. Loving them isn’t a waste of time. They are immortal in their own way. 

It’s not him. 

It’s Alec.

Wes wants to call him by his name. And Wes is a dragon.

### 

Alec didn’t see the dragon in a few days. He looked for him, waited for him at the shore.

He wouldn’t break the tradition. If the dragon needs time, he will wait for him.

It isn’t so hard to be around the others anymore. His parents’ shadow still feels suffocating sometimes, but the veil lifted a bit. 

He doesn’t act like them. He can’t. He doesn’t want to. 

But he is still loved. They didn’t turn away, and he believes when they say they never will. Uncle Grayson, uncle Casey and all his aunts and big brothers and sisters.

They loved his parents. His parents loved him. He will be loved too. 

“Hey there, Alec.”

He turns to the new voice. A young guy with blond hair, symmetrical features and amber eyes. They change colors, turn dark when he smiles. 

Alec sees the dragon in the human face and grins right back. 

[bluebirdwrites]

james potter x reader where james and reader were close friends but he eventually focused all his attention on lily so they drifted? and maybe the reader got seriously hurt or something and he realizes just how much he loves the reader? angst with happy ending if that’s okay!

as easy as breathing; jp

warnings; swearing and violence, you have been warnED!

author’s note; i hope you like what i’ve written from your request anon, because i really enjoyed writing this hehe! by the way, requests are open! and I am multi fandom too, so check out my blog maybe (; have a nice day!

summary; in which, being friends with james potter is as easy as breathing. but then he ignores everyone and everything in favour of a girl who doesn’t return his affections. and he’s not there when it matters most.

Only eleven and you’re happy. Hogwarts, a happy place. A place of many choices and a place of mystery. Standing on the platform is daunting- you won’t see your parents for months. This will be the longest you will go without your mother’s caring words and your fathers affinity for mischief.

Committing the smell of your mother’s perfume and taking your fathers sweatshirt, you begin to push your luggage toward the train. You briefly thank whoever loads your trunk before letting a large black and white tom cat slither into your arms.

Absentmindedly scratching behind the cats ears, you tentatively begin to check for an empty carriage. Fining one almost instantly, the door is closed behind you with a muffled click. Sighing, you sink into the seats of the carriage cuddling your fathers sweatshirt to your chest and breathe deeply.

Time to be a big kid now. Just like mummy said.

The final whistle for the train blows as you rise towards the window from your seat letting the cat walk in figure eights around your legs. Finding your parents, you wave hanging half out the window until you can no longer see them in the crowd of magical parents also farewelling their children.

Going to your seat again, you run your fingers through your cats fur. The cat— Splodge — lets its hair stand on end as it jumps up and onto your lap. Hissing at a certain part of the room, the cat flicks it’s tail whilst looking at the door.

Not even half a minute later comes a knocking on he door. It is neither timid nor aggressive, only justly confident.

“Come in,” your voice travels through the still currently closed door, voice friendly. Once the door is open, a boy with unruly ink coloured hair prances through the now open door.

Taking a moment to study him, he looks young. All freckles, askew black frames and molten molasses eyes that make his happy smile seem only all the brighter.

Probably a first year. Possibly a new friend?

“James Potter, how do you do? Can I sit in here? You look like a nice person,” he is endearing, especially when he tilts his head as if he is second guessing himself.

“Sure thing Potter, you can call me Anderson until we’re on a nickname basis,” he only laughs. Sweet and childishly gleeful. Already, his presence is as easy as breathing.

And that is that.

Now in fourth year, you can say that it’s been fun— apart from James ignoring you, and everyone else frankly. Choosing to to follow his willy in the direction of Lily Evans. But whatever— Having been friends with Sirius and Remus and Peter as well was everything that you could have hoped for. When the hat had declared ‘Gryffindor’ after a minutes deliberation you had been confused- at first. You now understand as you face down the angry Sytherins you understand your own stubbornness and unwillingness to back down after what they had called you.

Being muggleborn could be challenging with all of the blood purist fanatics running around. At least you weren’t the product of multiple different variations of incest throughout generations only to be born a purblood with an uncle dad.

But still. Being called a mudblood of all things hurt. It ached and stung and left the bitter taste of bile— that kept getting stronger— on the tip of your tongue the longer your were angry.

“Poor Ickle Mudblood. All alone,” the group of snakes slither closer, closing you in on all sides watching as you plant your feet and grit your teeth.

Good Godric, this is pathetic.

They close in around you from all sides muttering spells that send you flying. It hadn’t even been 10 minutes and fighting back was very hard being out numbered and all.

Where were the prefects. Where were the marauders? Where was James?

They wouldn’t come. Not whilst you were in this abandoned corridor. Not whilst it was a Hogsmeade weekend. Not whilst James Potter was obsessing over Lily Evans. Sure- she was lovely. And beautiful and intelligent and just better than you.

The spells kept becoming more painful as the chanting of manky mudblood rebounded off of the walls and into your ears.

You tried to be strong. You tried to fight back and be brave. You tried to stop the tears stinging your eyes and fight back the scream clawing at the back of your throat; but it felt good to release it. To let them make you black, blue and purple all over.

When they’d finally stopped- when you thought that they’d finally stopped, you just couldn’t help it. The words tumbled out and you couldn’t take them back.

“That the best you got you bloody pureblooded pricks?” They all prickle and one of the snakes step forward— Lestrange it looks like— and kick your side.

Something just broke

“Well then,” he breathes pointing his wand at you, skin pulled tight over his skull into a sickeningly mocking grin. “Why don’t I show you exactly what I am capable of then?”

His grin, startlingly white against the shallow grey of his skin, turns into a snarl as he almost seems to seethe the next word. It is so hateful it burns your nerve endings and forces your toes to curl.

“Crucio.” And then everything is red. The curse, the pain and their laughter. It is fired thrice more and held for ten minutes or more before you hear shouting. And then it stops and you feel bodies beside you and more voices shouting counter spells and knock back jinxes.

“Anderson,” It’s Sirius speaking time you now, worried sounding Sirius. “We’re here now. Peter’s gone off t’get Minnie. And then they’ll really get it. S’okay now yeah?”

You can only nod and open your eyes staring into the stormy grey of your friend above. Gently gripping his hand you look and see Remus in front of you acting as a a shield between them and you.

You lick some of the blood off of your lips, “Where’s James, Sirius?” His nostrils flare angrily as if he was angry, and his eyes visibly darkened and he pulled you closer to him.

“Not here apparently,” you can see him getting angrier, and you know what usually comes next. ”Probably with Evans.”

You can feel yourself realising something then, that you’ll never ever measure up to Lily Evans. Squeezing his hand you can only give him a look as if to say later.

Later comes in the form of the infirmary. Of sitting there over the next day and hearing of five Slytherins being expelled and one being sent off to Azkaban after using an unforgivable curse.

Peter, Sirius and Moony all stay with you. Comforting you whilst you cry and holding your hand when you have spasms and phantom pains from the lingering crucio curse.

James doesn’t come until he hears about a Gryffindor being attacked by a group of Slytherins. He doesn’t put two and two together until he walks in the hospital room and seeing his friends in and around a hospital bed.

You are the first to see him and your face contorts into something angry. Peter is the next to notice, and he shields you with a rigid posture before facing James head on with the nastiest glare he’s ever seen.

Moony is next. He is less angry but more disappointed. He barely looks at James before he clenches his fist and holds your hand, seeming to give it a squeeze.

James is blessed with foot and mouth disease and even now he can’t seem to help himself, “Alright Anderson? You look pretty manky over there.”

Your eyes glaze over and you flinch. You curl in on yourself and three lions fold in around you blocking James from your sight and making sure that you’re okay. James doesn’t notice.

Sirius’ reaction is the most explosive. The chair he sat in is now hard against the wall, being forced back on the tile at how quickly he had stood up. His eyes are like a thunderstorm as he walks towards James with purpose. Rarely do they argue but when they do it’s a shit storm to fix.

“Tell me James,” he strides closer so he is directly in James’ personal space, nose to nose and straightening to his full height. “Where the bloody hell have you been whilst our friend needed you? And don’t you dare say what I think you are.”

James clears his throat only beginning to recognise how much shit he’s in, but not really putting a speed bump between his mouth and his brain.

“I was with Evans. I reckon I’m close to breaking though to her mate!” He laughs, only succeeding at making Sirius go red in the cheeks and Moony and Peter shuffling closer to you. “Why? Where were you?”

This time something rare happens and then something rarer. First, Remus let’s loose what sounds like a growl as his expression turns bitter and angry. He looks every bit ready to wage a warpath, but he grips your hand tight knowing that you need him there with you. And then Peter’s on his feet, hands shaking and on a warpath towards James.

Sirius looks like he’s about to do something by how taught the muscles in his shoulders are. But it’s Peter that acts. It’s quietly mischievous Peter Pettigrew that marches towards James Potter and gives him a shiner. Not Sirius Black. Not Remus Lupin. Not even you, It’s Peter Pettigrew to lose himself in his anger and have Sirius grip his shoulder shocked and proud.

“You know what James! You know exactly bloody what we were doing and you think you have the right to ignore us all- for weeks! And then prance in here and ask? Fuck it, you should know why!” All of you are shocked as he appears to calm down and walk to your side with an awkward little smile.

You’re angry. Deservedly so you think, but you also know that whilst that anger feels right now, in the land of tomorrow or next week it will not.

“Can I talk to James alone? If it makes you boys feel better you can wait outside, but I think we both need to talk and then you can all say whatever you want to eachother,” you look them all in the eye making sure that they all take you seriously. “Please.”

Now alone with James you let him walk over until he stops in front of the chair Moony’d occupied not even thirty seconds earlier, tentatively sitting to face you head on. His cheek had already began to swell from Peter’s earlier hit.

“So,” you move your jaw side to side until it clicks with a popping sound. “Whilst i was writhing on the floor because of the Cruciatus Curse, you were chasing Evans around? And cancelling plans constantly to chase after Lily Evans? Don’t I just feel Important Jamsie.”

His face looks constipated as he mulls over your words and your expression. He wants to make it up to you, make things right. He wants to make things better than before, he wants to make himself forget Lily Evans and drown himself in you.

His hand finds yours, tender and strong. “Look, I- I know I’ve been shit these past few months. Chasing after a girl I know that probably won’t ever come round, and I’ve got no excuse. Is there absolutely any way I can make it up to you?”

He’s looking at you, all warm and gooey. He flows over you like the eye of a hurricane, the calm in the middle of a disaster. In an instant he’s pulling you to him and gravitating around you. In an instant his face is the softest you’ve ever seen it, despite the blooming blotch of purple on one side of his face.

It’s a spur of the moment thing for both of you, you say it on accident really. You weren’t thinking outside of now and he wasn’t thinking at all. “Kiss me,” swallowing your nerves isn’t hard this time, after all it is a spur of the moment thing. “Kiss me here because there’s always been more to us then just friends Potter, and I think you know just as well as I do how badly I want you to kiss me.”

And he’s kissing you, fingers in your hair and thumbs on the apples of your cheeks as he crashes over you like an ocean. Your hands are at his bale and his cheek running delicate hands over his skin.

I love you, I love you, I love you. You can’t say that out loud but it is a mantra in your head as he breaths life to you through a kiss. Your foreheads rest together, and you sit with him. Being with him, friend or more is still as easy as breathing. And you hope that you can one day he can know how much you love him, and how you need him more than oxygen.

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Reviews: The Lost Harp of Mirvana!

The ducks head under the sea, no accusations just friendly crustacians under the sea.. along with some sorta monster, mer hippies voiced by voice acting legends and della being unable to enjoy any of this because she’s hiding back at the sub. Take a dive under the cut. 

I’ll confess this wasn’t one I was even remotely excited about going in: I’ts not that I thought it’d be bad: the series is at it’s peak right now, I figured i’td be entertaining like last week, it just had the misforutne of being right before we finally get Daisy next week, and recent episode solicits for the two afte ronly made it worse: Fenton’s third episode (hopefully he gets two this season), that’s also hueycentric and will hopefully make gyro less dickish, and a wrestling episode because i’m a casual wrestling fan and huey having to play the heel against a norse snake god sounds fucking amazing. SO yeah “Hippie mermaids and Louie being suspcious only to oh no be proven wrong about being suspcious” as I predecited the episode would go sounded boring in comparison.  But i’m not afraid to eat crow... metaphorically, literally I don’t want to eat a crow it’d taste miserable and I don’t want to eat this crow because I love him.   

But on dreading this ep.. I was blown away. Part of it is low expectations: I had really none other than “it’ll be decent” going in, but that only carries you so far. No this episode was fantastic, adressed a problem i’d had since “Timephoon!”, if not earlier, and had some great guess casting. It was a throughly enjoyable, funny episode. Will it probably end up on my faviorites list like the premire duo might? no, but it’s still damn good. Let’s get into the why shall we Our story this week is fairly simple: The Ducks are headed under the sea to find the lost harp of mirvana, sans Launchpad because he had to go help an ex girlfirend, hang out with darkwing, it was his day off, they had enoguh characters to juggle as is, he got his head stuck in a jar again, I dunno. But refreshingly Beakly is present! Seriously this IS something I wanted since season 1: her coming along with the family more. She rarely does, which makes some small sense given she’s the housekeeper but has made less and less since they have a ghost butler and sh’es family at this point.  I get she has to earn her keep and what not, and wants to show up her ghostly rival, but come on. Thankfully they have come on and while i’m not sure if it’ll be a common thing going forward, it IS nice to have her for this one.  The story itself is nicely divded once our heroes run into the mirvanans themselves, zen mermaids, our focus ones voiced by  hyden walch and greg cripes, who you may know as starfire and beast boy from the teen titans cartoon... andtheotherone... as well as voicing Princess Bublegum and 2k12 Michealangeo respectivley. I Love these two and it was a treat to have them voice mermaid hippies.  Our party quicklky splits up into three plots that converge at the end: Louie, being naturally suspcious after nearly being sacrificed by seemingly benevlonet societies 20 something times (and Dewey having 71 according to the tally given this episode that I painstakingly counted. The boy is one braincell starved for attention) is suspcious this is a midsommar type thing and he’s in the middle of some sorta death cult as usual, while webby, a trusting soul, belivies nothing is wrong and the mer people are genuine, with Beakly backing her up despite seemingly going against her nature.  Now this plot alone seems stock for any show, but works here since it’s rooted in character; Louie sees all the angles and thus all the cliches adventurers run into. He’s been at this for at LEAST a year, he’s seen just enough to get how a certain story will probably go and being a grifter by nature, he dosen’t trust easy to begin with.  In contrast while Webby CAN be suspcious, her being naturally trusting has also been part of her character from the start.  She genuinely TRUSTS people and gives them a chance first and unless their a clear enemy of scrooges, will not turn her back on them. This is best shown with her relationship with Lena: even AFTER getting clear evidence Lena was a  spy the whole time, and even without the evidence that after a certain point it was a lie, she refused to fully belive Lena had betrayed her... and was rewarded with Lena giving her life for webby. She trusted Violet even after Violet had been hiding her intentions and had a dangerous magical artifact from her arch enemy on her, and was again rewarded this time with Lena coming back and getting another lifelong friend out of the deal in Violet. Webby has a faith in people that pays off more than not..t hough we’ve also seen that faith backfire, mostly in scrooge as scrooge is a flawed man and has serious issues, whether it’s a combination of flu and gaslighting driving him insane, or him lashing out at her at his weakest moment. Her optimisim both fuels her and has made her life better but has sometimes blindsided her to the flaws in people, especially her hero. It’s as bojack horseman put it “When you look at life through rose colored glasses, you miss all the red flags”. What keeps this intresting as the two go into an off limits danger cave to find out what’s inside, Louie to find proof he’s right and Webby to go with him to prove he’s wrong, is Beakly. After saving the two from a monster, Beakly keeps boosting webby..then privatley admits as the audience probably guessed she’s also deeply suspcious and simply dosen’t want to shatter her niece’s worldview until they have evidence. And this is where that thing I wanted comes into play: see last season during “Timephoon!” beakly is directly conrasted as a parent with Della, having raised two children and being wiser. And while she was in that moment.. Beakly isolated her grandchild, and basically kept her in a guilded cage while training her to be a weapon out of fear of loosing what little she had left. LIke with Donald’s smothering parenting, it’s understandable, but it should be adressed.. and this episode does, but thankfully dosen’t make Betina unsympathetic either: Every parent, or in my case uncle, has to lie once in a while, especially now with the Covid-19 pandemic. It’s natural. But Betina has gone overboard to try and protect Webby’s inoccence.. and it’s backfired. Not preparing her for scroog’es worse behavior lead to him outright destroying her during “Last Crash of the Sunchaser” when he temporarliy disowned her.  And here it leads to a damn powerful scene with great acting from both Toks and Kate . The trio find the harp, voiced by Rhetta aka Donna from parks and recreation, whose basically the harp from the “raiders of the lost harp” episode of the original, the first episode of said show I ever saw and a classic about a harp that would melodically say “no no no, your fibbing fibbing fibbing” when someone lied, which this harp does, if not every time. She reveals her former owner, the king of mirvana who the hippies build their society after his example, basically ducked repsonsiblity while things fell apart and spent too long underwater (the mirvanans can also walk on land) and became the monster from earlier, and the rest will share his fate if not told

The powerful part comes when Beakly tries to lie.. and the harp keeps shutting her out till she’s forced to admit the truth: you can just.. feel the pain coming from the poor woman, and webby folds into a depressed state. Naturally Louie realizes, once they get back to the rest of the family, more on that in a second, and seeing that the mermaids did NOT realize their king was a monster nor plan to feed them to him, webby was right and tells them to have hope and that the society they built IS valid even if their king was a dipstick, he rebuilds webby and after everythings wrapped up webby and beakly apologize and hug. It’s a damn good plot even if the “Louie realizes he was wrong and wasn’t right abotu them being evil” parts were predictable.. it worked due to the excellent character work, with Louie also realizing being a cynical dick is kind of obonxoious. A damn strong a plot The subplots are also rooted throughly in character while still being entertaining,especially once the a-plot gets heavy towards the end: Della in the c plot stays behind because she’s afraid of fish, only conquering it breifly at the end to help her family and punch a man in the face, but it’s nice to not only see some new bits to her as well as some neruosis of her own. She is donald’s sister: he can’t hog all of it for the two of them.  The main subplot though centers on the remaining family trying to earn their way to the harp by doing zen arts and crafts and works due to character: Donald becomes a hilaroius zen master in moments (though earlier he rebuffed a gently pat on the chest by the lady mermaid, though given she’s super pretty and he’s, for now, single and has been for a while.. jsut go for it. You’ll probably get a three way with the other one (who isn’t my type but it’s more the man bun than anything. Loose that and.. yeah i’ll be int hat mer sandwitch), but I digress, Donald finds inner peace, likely because well. he WANTS IT. He wants to be happy and calm, even if the world smacks him in the face and tells no. Granted said peace is disrupted in the most hilarous way possible simply by Huey telling him they think his barbeque is merely okay, but he deserves credit. The boys also quickly find it, Dewey making a mermaid tail with hot rod flames and huey making a woodchuck one but what makes the subplot is that scrooge..c an’t. He hates this society, he hates hippies and he LOATHES self reflection. It’s like this society was magicaly generated to piss him of and i’ts wonderful to watch.  And as a quick aside bit before we go Rhetta is awesome as the harp, not the parks cast member I woudl’ve chosen as my first round draft pick for the series but she does greatly and has great timing (especially when Louie talks about selling her) and it was nice to see a bit of my first ducktales experince come back in an intresting new way.  Overall this episode was a VERY plesant suprise, and taught me to be more open to an ep in the future even if it dosen’t look like it has a huge personal draw. It was excellent.And now before I go i’ve decided each week, especially now we have a enough, to put the episode in the ranking of each and every episode this season and placing them in comparison of one another. I might do a list ranking the first season and second seasons on their own for fun. But for now here’s season 3 so far, so you can see where the ep stacks comparitvley: 1. Quack Pack! 2. The Challenge of the Senior Junior Woodchucks! 3. The Lost Harp of Mirvana! 4. Double O Duck in You Only Crash Twice.  I”ll see you next week for DAISY AT LAST, the return of my boys the cablleros and some suprises and pies of all sizes ashurldy. Until then, courage. 

[locria-writes]

i have no idea how to fit in rosamunde’s backstory into aab, so i just wrote it out lol

The most valuable lesson that her late father ever taught her was to survive.

Survival, he told her, meant being able to blend in wherever and with whomever. Survival meant discarding dignity and honour, and other such lofty notions that had long been ingrained in her. To survive was to simply be alive, to thrive was to be living. Living could come later, but only if one was alive.

Rosamunde had been but seven years old when he told her this, and she couldn’t help but blurt out, “Why aren’t you telling this to Gisbert and Ernst?”

Her father smiled gently, if not a bit forlornly, smoothing her hair without a word. Then he replied, “Because my dear Roeschen is a girl.”

She frowned. “So?”

“People can be cruel and unfair. You won’t have the same opportunities as your brothers should anything happen. They can take up a sword and fight to survive, but you won’t be able to do the same.”

“But why not?”

“That’s a lesson for another day, but you already see it, don’t you? When you study with the Royal Tutor, are there any other girls around? Don’t people give you strange looks when you accompany the princes?”

It was true… People raised a brow at her whenever she studied at the castle. Sometimes there would be unkind snickers, pointed fingers, but she always ignored them. Her grandfather once said that only fools mock an educated woman.

Her father pulled out a silver bangle from his jacket and slipped it onto her wrist. It was old and deceptively simple. The engravings felt like letters, but she couldn’t quite decipher what they meant.

“What is this?”

He kissed her temple. “It’s a lucky charm.”

When she was ten, her family was exiled, stripped of all their glory and wealth, and sent to the bitter northern border. It was a bit hard to leave behind her friends, Prince Volker had hugged her desperately, begging her to stay because he would marry her, but she didn’t let it show. Weakness was a necessity for it kept one from becoming too arrogant, but it was also necessary to keep it hidden from all but one’s most trusted. That was what her father taught his soldiers, and ultimately, he passed it on to his children.

Life was difficult at first – she had grown up surrounded by servants, but neither her mother nor father complained about it, so she decided there was no point in it either. They were alive, they were surviving, and for Rosamunde, that was enough.

Her father was restricted in what he was allowed to do, where he was allowed to go, so he made and sold wood carvings. Her mother was a homemaker and sold her embroidery. Her older brothers did odd jobs around the small village, and Rosamunde helped her mother at home. She didn’t know how, but they scraped by. Their home wasn’t large, but it was clean and functional. They didn’t have a proper farm to earn money with, but they had some animals, and a somewhat fertile garden to work with. It wasn’t the life of glittering wealth they had before, but it was a life she could live with for the rest of her life.

She was twelve when her father taught her his last lesson.

“Roeschen, do you think revenge is a good or bad thing?”

She stopped sewing and tried to gauge her father’s expression. It was dark, save for the flickering light of the hearth. “It’s…revenge comes from hatred, so isn’t it inherently a bad thing?”

“It is indeed.” He was quiet for a moment. “Is justice a good or bad thing?”

“It’s a good thing.”

“Then if a man seeks retribution for his brother’s murder, is it justice or revenge?”

“It’s justice.”

“Is it justice if he takes matters into his own hands and kills the murderer himself? Is it justice if he makes it his mission to make the murderer’s life as miserable as possible without killing him?”

She didn’t know how to answer. Her father laughed quietly as he reached over and patted her head. “It’s all right if you don’t have an answer, Roeschen. You’ll find your own as you grow older.”

The next day, soldiers came with a warrant for her father. Her father didn’t seem surprised, and even laughed jovially at the sight of them. Her mother remained stoic, but Rosamunde could see her trembling as they took Gisbert and Ernst.

A few days passed, and no word came from the capital. Realistically, Rosamunde knew that it would be a while, but she couldn’t bear not knowing. They were a bit big, but she threw on some of her brothers’ old clothing, and rode off to find out what happened.

She was afraid every step of the journey, but she was never taught to fear being afraid. Wise men feared, foolish men feared not.

The capital was abuzz when she arrived, and to her dismay, it was for her father’s execution.

Everything felt numb as she watched her father’s head roll away. He dedicated his life to the Crown, he wanted nothing more than his country – his home – to be the best it could be, yet he was merely labelled a treasonous man and met a bloody and inglorious fate instead.

It was unfair, but life was rarely fair.

She should have cried, should have screamed, should have done something, but all her body could do was stare blankly. Even as the crowd dispersed, she remained rooted to her spot, unmoving and unfeeling. The only solace she found was that at least Gisbert and Ernst weren’t there, but what if they had already died? Or worse? Her poor mother…her poor younger siblings…

“Rosamunde…?”

There was a woefully familiar pair of pale eyes before her, and no she could not feel anything anymore and least of all to a murderer’s son. He tentatively reached toward her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, and please dear Providence don’t touch her because that was all it would take to shatter her.

She said nothing, but she remembered kicking and punching, lashing out however she could at him and it wasn’t his fault his only fault was to be the Crown’s son, and she fled like a coward.

When she arrived back home and told her mother, the older woman didn’t shed a tear either, couldn’t shed a tear. She fell ill, and never recovered, but was never allowed the mercy of death. Ernst came back after her, both legs broken and barely on the mend, and suddenly she was the only one who could provide for her broken family.

Rosamunde never accepted charity, never liked being looked down upon with pity. Her father taught her to survive, taught her that revenge and justice were in the eye of the judge, and by Providence, she would make her own revenge. His enemies wanted him to fall, wanted his family (she briefly wondered if it was one of her maternal grandfather’s enemies, but the man was a snake through and through, so she doubted there were even any left alive) to suffer, so she would deny them that pleasure. She would survive, survive until she thrived.

It mattered not what job she could do, so long as she could do it. If it were a woman’s work, a man’s work, she would do it. So what if her own life was robbed of her own wishes? If her younger brother and sister could thrive, she would be happy. She sold the silver bangle, albeit incredibly reluctantly, but she wasn’t selfish enough to keep it. One day, she told herself, she’d find a way to get it back.

Dignity, honour, morality, who cared? Did dignity put food on the table? Did honour keep the hearth going? Did morality entail survival? Her father was the most dignified, most honourable, most moral man in the world, yet he was undone by the scheming of others.

It took a long time, but at last, she found some sort of peace with herself, and life was difficult, but not unbearable. At least until they showed up again.

They cajoled her into agreeing to heal Prince Volker’s leg, pestered her until they finally found a crack in the walls she carefully built. She always hated Augustin and expected such impudence from him, but from Prince Volker? He had always been good at whittling her down until she was at her most vulnerable.

“Don’t you want to come back with us?” To his credit, he barely flinched when she haphazardly cleaned the wound.

“I’ve left that life.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I don’t want to.”

He was quiet for a bit. “I meant it back then when I said I wanted to marry you.”

She scoffed. “We were children. It meant nothing.”

“It meant everything.” He grabbed her hand. “I won’t marry the Rosenthal girl…I won’t marry anyone other than you.”

She felt pathetic in that moment, letting his mere touch elicit warmth in her chest. She always liked him when she was a child, he made beautiful and wonderful promises to her, but that wasn’t how the world worked. She still liked him, but it felt like a familiar and nostalgic ache somewhere in the back of her heart now.

“If you think wooing me will convince me otherwise, I suggest you stop now.”

“I’m being serious, Roeschen.” His thumb traced her palm. “You’ve suffered out here…Aunt Elfriede…Ernst…all of you have suffered a grave injustice. Don’t you want to clear Uncle Rudolf’s name? Don’t you want to return to your old life?”

In truth, of course she did. What fool would choose a life of hardship over one of ease and comfort? But she was always taught to never want for things that could not be. She wouldn’t want to return to her old life because it was impossible. She wouldn’t want to marry and be in love with Prince Volker because it was impossible. “If you’re going to continue spouting hogwash, I think you should leave now before I’m tempted to chop off your leg.”

That failed to deter him. Instead, he pulled out a familiar silver bangle and held it before her. “This is yours, isn’t it? Uncle Rudolf gave it to you.”

“W-where…?”

“You pawned it, and I was looking for your family’s heirlooms. Come back to the capital with us, Roeschen. Even if…even if you don’t wish to publicly clear Uncle Rudolf’s name, don’t you want to at least help us figure out what happened? Don’t you want to avenge his indignant death?” He leaned a bit closer and said in a quieter voice, “Don’t you want to see Gisbert again?”

Her father wouldn’t want this; her father would call it a fool’s delusion. He would want her to survive, not to fight over sentimentality, but Rosamunde wasn’t her father. She wasn’t that strong.

She closed her eyes, murmuring a quiet apology. “I’ll go then.”

[eleanor-devil]

Boruto: Sacrifices [Remade] | Chap.3 - Naruto’s Decision

Written by: Eleanor-Devil & @mirage-05​​

Prologue | Chap.1 | Chap.2 | Chap.3 - You’re here

A complete silence descended upon the meeting hall for a full minute as everyone stood still, almost too afraid to breathe. Naruto worked to control the shocked expression on his face, but it wasn’t easy. How… how in the world had Sarutobi Kichiro found out about this…? His eyes swept over everyone in the hall briefly, lingering longer on Sarada and Shikadai, who understandably looked dumbfounded. And Konohamaru… Konohamaru just stood there, eyes wide open, looking like he was struck by something… Naruto had absolutely no idea how he was gonna make up for this... And then… the blast happened. A lot of people got on their feet, their expressions outraged and… panicked. “Hokage-sama, what’s the meaning of this?” “Did you really allow a brat of that snake in our village?” “Not good…” Kakashi mumbled next to him. “I don’t know how he learned about the kid but there was a reason he waited until now to reveal it…” The reason was pretty clear. A panicked turmoil had come over the gathered, wild looks in their eyes… an upheaval. Sighing inaudibly, Naruto took a step forward and raised his arms in a placating gesture. “Please. I would like everyone to just give me a moment.”

The roaring of chatter dimmed slightly to a low hum. “My decision to accept Mitsuki into the village was made regardless of his parentage. I intend to keep my view on it.” “And it shouldn’t solely be your decision to begin with,” Kichiro continued above the crowd, dead-pan. “This matter concerns all of the village, with the boy being related to the most heinous criminal this village had created.” “It is not our way in Konoha to judge someone - especially a kid - based on his connections.” Tsunade put in, as calmly as she could, already tired of the views of the elders in Konoha. Sarada was shocked as she could do nothing but watch the mayhem unfold. “What… does that even mean…?” she heard Shikadai speak beside her. “Sarada… did you know this…?” “N-no… I had no idea…” the girl mumbled numbly, shaking her head. “But… I know Orochimaru… and he’s…” she couldn’t exactly complete the sentence. The Nara raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’ve heard of his name a number of times before, but neither my parents nor my uncles go into details…” “I’m surprised, really,” came a voice behind them, and both turned to look at who was speaking. “Your family was one of those who was the worst affected by that snake.” “Sarutobi Ichiro.” Shikadai said wearily. “What do you mean, worst affected?” “Oh boy, you really don’t know.” Ichiro tsk tsked, shaking his head. “Well, I guess families really do like to mollycoddle the younger rather than let them face the truth for their own sake.” One of the girls standing next to him, his teammate, sighed and closed her eyes. “Really Ichiro, can we spend just one day without you going around having beef with someone?” “Oh, I’m not trying to start anything Wasabi,” the teen crossed his arms with a smirk. “But for now, let’s continue to watch how this will unfold. It’s gonna be interesting.” And unfolding it was. The whole room was on its feet now, everyone talking at the same time, trying to get their voices heard. “And how are we supposed to relax when his kid is roaming free in our village?” asked one from the Yamanaka clan. “Do you have any evidence to prove he wasn’t related to the attack at all?” There was a momentary surge of indecision on Naruto’s face, but he was quick to hide it. “Not yet, we don’t. Just as there is no evidence yet to point to his involvement. And this is why I wouldn’t want to be hasty in pointing fingers.” “Hasty? Hardly.” A sneer had formed on Kichiro’s lips. “I believe we have been really rather slow in this matter.” “If I may be so bold…” all the heads in the room turned to the unexpected speaker. Truth being told, Aburame Shino had never been a very vocal man. “I taught that boy during academy and I don’t believe he has the material to betray Konoha. Why? Because he has proven himself many times to be quite loyal.” “And how do we know he wasn’t play-acting, that it was some sort of scheme?” “Because he doesn’t have reasons to,” Shikadai mumbled, still watching the whole exchange with unbelievable eyes. Mitsuki had been what he considered a good friend over the years they got to know each other, and he just couldn’t believe they wouldn’t read a sign if he was planning to betray Konoha. They wouldn’t… would they? Sarada was staring at their sensei, who had kept his silence ever since the bomb was dropped. She could see his blank expression even from this distance. She could only begin to comprehend the shock he was experiencing… but wasn’t he going to say anything? Wasn’t he going to speak up in favor of their teammate…? The girl shivered at the possibility of Team Konohamaru crumbling to pieces… it was a… very scary thought, to say the least… “I believe we can all see where your decision is based on, Lord Seventh. That’s why I will have to ask you to not let your own past cloud your judgement.” “And I believe I am capable of handling that part, thank you very much,” Naruto said with a small squint between his eyes, his tone decidedly colder than before. “I am not bringing personal matters into this discussion. And I would expect everyone to act with the same sensitivity.” “It’s not a personal grudge though, is it?” Someone from the Nara clan interjected. “Who knows with what kind of purpose he was sent to Konoha? We all know what kind of being Orochimaru is…” “Yes, that would be his parent.” Shikamaru called from up front, his eyebrows a little furrowed. “In case you have missed it, the kid’s name is Mitsuki.” “I think we do need to think this matter out of the box,” Mirai spoke up, her arms crossed and a firm expression on her face. “Like it or not, he is still part of Konoha. We can’t just cut his ties with no proof and send him out there. For one thing, that will only create more problems in the future with the other villages too if this is indeed some sort of a scheme.” “Th-this is getting serious,” Sarada said nervously, still in a state of shock. “Will they actually…?” she couldn’t even complete the sentence, the thought was just crushing. “No,” Shikadai tried to comfort her, but his tone lacked the conviction she so desperately needed to hear. “Not when Lord Seventh is here…” “Ha,” came Ichiro’s voice from behind them, which none of them really appreciated. “They can’t ignore when the big clans press for the matter.” “What is your problem?!” Sarada rounded on the teen, already pissed off at his comments. “What did Mitsuki ever do to you?!” Ichiro raised an eyebrow. “Really, Uchiha, are you even paying attention?” “It won’t matter anyway.” The black haired girl felt her friend’s hand on her shoulder, a gentle reminder for her to keep her calm. “Not all of the clans will agree to it. They will have to have a majority to pass such a decision.” “Oh don’t worry, it’s coming there.” A cocky smirk made its way to Ichiro’s lips as he turned his attention back to the front of the room. “Watch and learn. This is what we call politics.” As if to prove his words true, more and more people were standing up to speak in favor of Kichiro’s suggestion. “If anything, this kid is nothing more than a test subject whose intentions we know nothing about.” one of their academy teachers Anko was saying, which was almost like a slap in Sarada’s face. Why… why were they treating Mitsuki like he was a soulless object…? She heard Shikadai sigh. “You know what… I think we can take a little break from here.” “We can?” the girl whispered back. “Well, the chuunins are mostly observants here… although I guess we will hear if they do notice we’re gone among all this mayhem,” the Nara explained, rubbing his neck. “We are not supposed to succumb to our emotions… but honestly, you need to cut yourself some slack, you look ready to collapse any time.” He put his hand on her shoulder again. “Come  on, let’s go.” … Not too long after they were out, though, not even long enough for anyone to notice their absence… people began filing out of the room. “What’s this about…?” Sarada asked her friend, baffled. The boy had no answers to offer to her but it turned out that he didn’t need to, because next thing they knew, Konohamaru was walking towards them. “Konohamaru-sensei…” Shikadai mumbled, although he was hesitant… they wanted to ask what was going on, but they also didn’t want to get scolded. The young man was quicker than them. “They decided to have a voting.” he stated, his tone almost… emotionless… if she were to be honest, making Sarada… scared… “Voting for… what…?” the Nara asked, cautious. “On whether Mitsuki should stay in Konoha,” came a second voice as Moegi, too, joined them. “Bunch of bull if you ask me but well… those are important clans for you…” “Is it possible, though? Do they really have the power to… exile someone from the village…?” Sarutobi Ichiro’s words were still ringing in their ears. “Well, no matter what they say, Nanadaime-sama has the final word. And not just the clans but we would cast our votes, too, so I don’t have a bad feeling about this.” In all this exchange, it didn’t escape Sarada’s attention that her sensei was still unusually quiet. She… had no idea that he didn’t know about Mitsuki’s origins either… so it made sense that he was still trying to take this all in, but… “Sensei,” she mumbled, her voice tiny. “What… will you vote for…?” The question caught the brunet off guard, and he blinked at his student, not knowing how to answer for a moment. He opened and closed his mouth, and the look in the Uchiha’s eyes just got sadder… But just then, Hyuuga Hanabi walked out of the door… Seeing her childhood friend suddenly tense, Moegi sighed. “Konohamaru, you really shouldn’t-” But it was too late, and the man was already walking over to his girlfriend. "Hanabi, stop this." The young woman seemed to regain her composure after the initial moment of being caught off-guard. "Stop what?" she asked in a formal manner. "What you've been saying... That can't be what you truly think!” Konohamaru was obviously trying to keep his voice down, but wasn’t much successful about it. “Just… everything is so messed up right now, we are all confused and people look for a solution, but this can’t be it... you know this is not right deep down in your heart…!" "Konohamaru," Hanabi said, brows furrowed as a serious expression crossed her face. "Please, remember that this is a formal meeting, so there is no place for all these." "Ugh! Just look into my eyes and tell me that is what you truly think!" "That's enough! I made it a point not to involve my personal feelings in village business." That was the last straw, and ice coated Konohamaru’s tone when he next spoke. "I'm sorry, Lady Hanabi. I guess I never realized you didn't have a heart." A fleeting, hurt look crossed the young woman’s eyes before they turned hard as steel. "Well, some of us have to think with their brains, not with their hearts." Despite the seriousness of the situation (and fully aware that they had just witnessed a very private interaction in her sensei’s life), Sarada couldn’t help but exclaim in wonder as she watched Konohamaru walk off. “Oh…” “Well… what he did certainly wasn’t the most conventional method, but… I guess that was his answer to your question.” Moegi’s tone was half exasperated, half proud. The black haired girl couldn’t help the whole-hearted smile that came across her lips, now this was the Konohamaru-sensei she knew and admired. Shortly after, the doors of the meeting room opened once again and they were called back inside. “Come now.” the orange haired jounin said, ushering them inside. “You will be voting too.” … When at last the door was closed behind the last person, Naruto cleared his throat to get attention. "We are going to do it like this," he began. "All of those who are in favor of..." he hesitated before saying the word. "exiling the child..." he continued, emphasizing the last word. "Please take your place on the left side of the room." He waited with bated breath as people started filing to the left. More than half... Naruto felt his heart sink as he looked at the considerably few people left. He was relieved that at least none of his friends agreed with that view, and of course Mitsuki’s chuunin friends stayed firmly on the other side of the room... but it pained him to see all of the Hyuga, led by his sister-in-law, Hanabi, were on the left corner. He sighed. "In the case that some of you wish to remain neutral, those who are against, please move to the right." There were only a few people in the middle of the room. Naruto took a deep breath, feeling all of their eyes on him. "Before I announce my decision, I would like to remind all of you of one thing." he began, and out of the corner of his eyes, saw some on the left stir uncomfortably. "We have been through many hardships. Many wars that cost many lives. Through the years I have served as your Hokage, it has always been my priority to prevent differences turning into marginalization, mistakes turning into grudges... If I was to exile a child for the mistakes of his parent, I would go against everything I believed that would make me a good and fair leader." "A leader should be ready to take action and defend his people. You have indeed gone soft over years of peace." A loud thud cut into Kichiro's rant, and Naruto looked up with fire in his eyes. "That," he snapped through gritted teeth, finally at the end of his patience, "has nothing to do with going soft over peace. I am not going to judge or punish a child for something that is beyond his control!" "If we do not take immediate action, there will be more regrets! Lord Third would never..." That was a low blow, one which made Naruto double-take, and Kichiro actually stopped himself before he said something worse. The Hokage had to pause for a moment before he continued. "It's my final decision." He put in, slowly but firmly. "Mitsuki stays. The meeting is hereby dismissed." There was an uproar of protests, which Naruto mostly tuned out - until the Sarutobi leader's voice once again reached him. "You will see that this was not the right decision to be made. This matter is far from over." Something in his tone made the blond go cold. "Kichiro-san," he called over the rumble. "Do not forget about the decree - no one is allowed to harm the child under any circumstances." The elder was just about to step out of the hall. When he heard him, he turned to look at the younger straight in the eyes. "Don’t you forget this - the decree had already been broken - and not by us."

[bartramcat]

GSR AS MODERN MEDIEVAL ROMANCE: Valentine's Day Ramblings

I guess Valentine’s Day Weekend is as good a time as any to talk about Romance. Not just Romance in the Love Story context, but Romance as in larger than life Medieval Romance. As I was watching the GSR Love Story unfold, I began to see parallels to Medieval Romance. That is not to say I think someone at CSI set out to make it a modern day Medieval Romance--I don’t--and because it took place in the 21st century, there are certainly several departures from the archetypes...still, I think it interesting. Perhaps you will too.

Right off the bat I should point out that Medieval Romance typically tends to have an adulterous liaison at its center. Adultery was the most dangerous form of love in the medieval world--you could be killed for it; it was also a mortal sin. So engaging in adultery risked your mortal life and immortal soul. Apparently, Medieval audiences found fornication boring; it was frowned upon but not fraught with the danger adultery was.

How does that relate to GSR? While GSR has nothing whatsoever to do with adultery, their relationship contains a more modern taboo: a supervisor sleeping with his much younger subordinate. What is curious about it is that they intentionally decide to keep it on the QT, as if they are in fact committing some kind of mortal sin. On one hand, yes, they are violating workplace rules, but they are rules specific to that workplace. Still, they both operate as if the discovery of their love affair would be tantamount to being caught as adulterers.  The punishment, as it turns out, is that they aren’t allowed to be on the same shift together, which is more severe than it seems on the face of it.

Whether at the start of their affair, which I date to the final third of season 5 (everyone has their time frame), the punishment would have been as mild as it was after Sara almost lost her life, I don’t know. For most of Season 5, Ecklie was actively looking for cause against Grissom, and sleeping with Sara certainly would have been seen as cause. In that regard, while their affair would certainly not have risked their lives, there was a very real possibility that it risked their livelihoods. (In Butterflied, Grissom sees giving into his feelings for Sara as putting everything he has worked for at risk. It is as if he believes that a relationship with her could lead ultimately to his being dismissed in disgrace.)

To backtrack, probably the best known medieval love affairs are Lancelot and Guinevere and Tristan and Iseult. The generic setup, which both of those fit into to some extent, is that of the king and his knight. The knight falls in love with the woman who comes to the kingdom to be queen. But the knight is torn between love and duty and loyalty.

So in our modern version, Vegas is the kingdom. In the world of GSR, there is no king, but there is the job. Before we even get to Grissom and his romantic Hamlet routine, we are actually shown that it is Sara who initially takes the biggest risk. She is the one who gives up everything she has known to come help Grissom out. And all he has to do is ask her to stay, and she does. She starts over for a chance at love with him.

Starting over is a hallmark of their Romance.

In Tristan and Iseult, Tristan goes to Ireland to bring Iseult to Cornwall to marry his uncle. On the voyage, they fall in love, with or without the help of a love potion (metaphor or reality?) and consummate their relationship. By the time they reach Cornwall, they are hopelessly in love with one another. But in Cornwall, the rules change.

I suppose it can be debated until the cows come home whether or not Grissom and Sara had sex before she came to Vegas. Personally, I was surprised to read that Mendelsohn had decided they had, as I never thought there was anything either in the text or in the acting to indicate they had. Sex aside, it's absolutely clear they had something significant happen between them in SF. They fell in love. Sara confirms that in Snakes and Grissom in A La Cart.

But in Vegas the rules change. He is her supervisor, and the rules of their job dictate that they can't also be lovers. When I watch them interact in the first 4-5 years of the series, another Medieval work springs to mind: the 2nd circle of Dante's hell (coincidentally reserved for adulterers): like Paulo and Francesca, they whirl around in this endless dance, unable to consummate their desire. In Medieval Romance, it is the woman who is married to another man; in GSR, it is Grissom who is married to his job.

Once the medieval lovers and our more modern ones decide to give into their feelings, the behavior is pretty similar as they endeavor to preserve the secrecy of their love affair. In both settings, the affairs continue for a fairly substantial period of time undiscovered, although there are close calls. In the medieval world, it is usually a third party, usually one with ambition, who works to expose the lovers, while the husband/king turns a blind eye to the seemingly obvious. 

On the face of it, it seems patently absurd that no one at CSI ever discerned that Grissom and Sara were lovers. Until we remember how these folks perceived Grissom. They all were aware that she was special to him on some level, but it's also pretty clear that none of them ever considered the possibility that he would ever become involved in a long term, committed relationship. More than likely, they thought Grissom was incapable of Romantic Love, which, apparently, he was until he met Sara. (In Family Affair, Greg and Nick laugh at the idea Grissom is Sara's husband; it still doesn't compute that he is married.)

That brings us to Natalie Davis. She knows nothing about these people personally. All she knows is that Grissom's investigation pushed Ernie Dell to suicide in an effort to protect her. My guess is she started stalking him, and she stumbled upon the infamous caress of Sara's arm at the crime scene. From that moment on, her focus became Sara. (Many sketches of Sara in her apartment; the only one of Grissom was when he was stroking her arm.) Why kill Grissom when she could make him feel her pain? I suspect she stalked both of them and knew far more about their relationship than we were given privy to. She certainly knew enough about their routine to know Sara ate at the veggie place a couple of times a week before going into the lab.

In Medieval Romance, after the affair is made public, it is the male who flees the kingdom, into the wilderness, in fear for his life. In some versions, he sneaks back into the kingdom to rescue her from death. In others, she remains, having been forgiven by her husband, until such time as she can no longer live without her lover. Having discovered where he is, she escapes the kingdom to join him in the wilderness, wherein they live a contented and pastoral life. For a time.

Okay. The parallel gets a little fuzzy here. The upshot of Sara's kidnapping is twofold. The first is that the love affair is exposed. It is pretty clear at the end of Dead Doll that Grissom no longer gives a damn who knows about their relationship. By A La Cart, they are both completely open about it, or at least as open as they are capable. The second is the shift change, isolating Sara from her work family and limiting the time she now has with Grissom. Even if we assume they are living together, and I think most of us do, they are working different shifts, so even their "at home" time together would be affected. More and more the job overwhelms her. In an act of self-preservation, Sara flees the kingdom, er, Vegas. While she comes back in his hour of need after Warrick's death, he again remains committed to his life and work in Vegas, where she feels she cannot live, and she leaves him again, eventually resigning herself to the fact they are over.

Now I could be completely off base here, but I always assumed that after she left in season 8 that he thought if he gave her enough space and time that eventually she would come back. In both You Kill Me and Grissom's Divine Comedy, it is indicated pretty strongly that they are in contact. When she comes back in season 9, she moves back in with him as if their relationship is a continuum, even with the physical separation. While he obviously pines for her during this period, it is not without hope, and he is able to function.

What he cannot abide is after she leaves in season 9. He begins to have trouble focusing, and we learn he has no idea where she is. She is taking a voyage of self Discovery and reconciliation, coming to accept she will now have to live her life without him. It's clear in her video that she still loves him, but they are at an impasse, so it's time for them both to move on with their lives. She sets him free. "You don't have to worry about me anymore." Interesting choice of words.

Grissom is now in Purgatory. He doesn't want to live without her, but he can't bring himself to change. On some level, he's come full circle, back to the Grissom who was afraid to "risk" his job by giving into his love for her. But there is a difference. In seasons 1-5, a relationship with Sara was a concept, sort of an idealized possibility, not a reality he had experienced. In many ways, to go Medieval again, she is his Beatrice, his Laura, whom he is content to love from afar. If we take him at his word, he had never been in love before nor been loved in return. It's one thing to eschew something you've never had, quite another to lose the one thing that has ever given your life meaning.

One of the major problems in the GSR relationship is that they love each other almost too much: to the point neither can ever quite believe they are loved as much in return. He believes in Butterflied that he has missed his chance. He turned her down. How could she possibly still be interested? She told him by the time he figured it out it could be too late. He figured it out but assumed it was too late. After Warrick's death, she assumed he really wanted her to leave him, to set him free, because she was unable at that point to resume their relationship on his terms. In her wildest dreams, I do not think she ever expected her setting him free would be the impetus for him to realize he couldn't live without her.

So in season 9 we find Grissom more at sea metaphorically than Sara who really is at sea on her way to the wilderness. Ironically, they are both on a voyage of self-discovery. Both are learning to let go: she of her need for him and he of his need for the safety and security of the lab. What is abundantly clear is that they still love one another. We are never told how he discovers where she is, but it is pretty clear he has found her and made his decision to go to her by the end of Young Man with a Horn. He tells Catherine it's time to up the ante, and he is speaking to her assertion that he has a work family. He wants a real family; in many ways over the years it was made clear he wanted to marry Sara, long before the actual proposal. They are each other's family. She is the only woman he has ever loved; he is the only home she has ever known. Not surprising that the first scene of the next episode has him announcing his departure.

Back to our Romance. The woman could have lived a very safe and secure life as Queen of the kingdom once her lover left. But she is incomplete without him, so she throws all of that away once she discovers where he is and steals away in the night to go to him. She would rather live in the wilderness with him than in the empty security of the kingdom. Again there are variations upon variations in these tales, mainly because a lot of them came out of oral traditions over centuries. The lovers live for a time in bliss, poor but content to be together.

CSI doesn't give us a whole lot about GSR after he runs to her in the rainforest. I think we can assume he went to her fully intending to marry her. We can probably also assume they got married fairly quickly and honeymooned in Costa Rica and possibly spent some more time there as she fulfilled her volunteer gig. I always wondered what they thought they were going to live on; like our Medieval lovers, they are in the wilderness with no discernible source of income. (Okay. It's highly possible Grissom got a substantial vacation time payout when he left.) I never thought they went from Costa Rica directly to Paris. That makes no sense. They had obligations in the States, including Grissom taking his bride to meet his mother. Which could have been interesting. (How many times did mother Grissom bring up grandchildren?) We learn he still has the condo, and then there is Hank. Like most things GSR, we are given no indication when he was asked to lecture at the Sorbonne. While they were in Costa Rica? When they came back to the States? In my "headcanon," they come back to Vegas, tie up loose ends and go on a road trip, destination New York, destination Paris, possibly spending the spring and most of the summer touring the ballparks of America. And other places. But that's just me.

As far as I'm concerned, One to Go should have been endgame for them. No matter what, they should have been together from that point on. There are some things that make no sense to me, even before the dreaded divorce. As I don't see them going directly from Costa Rica to Paris, it also makes little sense that he went straight from Paris to Peru. At some point they bought a house, and I don't think she did that on her own. What makes more sense to me is that he came back to Vegas shortly after the conclusion of season 10, which also would have coincided with the end of the spring semester in Paris. More than likely, that's when they bought the house, having realized at that point that they weren't getting their grant. Perhaps she told him she was comfortable remaining at the lab full time, and they decided to resettle in Vegas. We aren't sure what he was planning to do, but my guess is that he may have been looking for a position at a University or scientific institution within a 100 mile radius. Then the Peru offer came in. Or, rather, that's what the show came up with to explain why we didn't see him. 

It's interesting that in season 10 that she is the one going to him in Paris, although it's highly probable he came home over break, but in season 11 forward he is the one who apparently comes to Vegas. It is possible that the archaeological site was remote and heavily secured to the point where her visiting him there might have been difficult. Again not explained.

So the last we saw our Medieval Romancers they were living in pastoral bliss in the wilderness. But they are adulterers, so in the terms of Medieval morality that happiness can't last. Again depending on the tale and the version, they are separated, either by a storm or by the king's men discovering their hideaway. After the melee, he ends up looking for her but becomes resigned to the fact she must be dead. She somehow ends up back in the kingdom, either returning for want of someplace else to go or she is taken back by the king's men to face her punishment. Upon seeing her again, the king forgives her, and she is resigned to living out her days with him. She is also convinced her lover must be dead.

While this sequence is a little out of sequence, I always thought it ironic that it was Sara who returned to Vegas. I also thought it a bit odd that they rehired her, given the way she left. In my work experience, walk out on a job, and you aren't coming back. I suppose it's possible she dropped by HR and requested an emergency leave of some kind, but we don't know, or if the lab felt some culpability, given that it was PTSD that contributed. Again never explained.

For whatever reason, TPTB aka TIIC decided the strain of writing (what writing?) a long distance marriage was too hard on them, so we got the inconceivable divorce. I consider it anomalous on 2 levels. For one, I don't believe it, not at that point in their relationship. For another, it is as if they are being punished for no apparent reason other than writer ineptitude. Unlike our Medieval lovers, they have never done anything wrong. (They've made mistakes, but that's not the same thing.) Curiously, I think one of the reasons I am so drawn to them as a couple is they are not morally ambiguous, yet both are also incredibly complex and multi-faceted. Normally, in fiction, characters with that much substance have a touch of evil. Not these two, and I think that makes them more fascinating as individuals and is a large part of why the people who are so taken with them are so taken with them. They deserve each other; they really do. 

The divorce is an unfortunate occurrence within the GSR world that actually bolsters--sad to say-- the Medieval Romance parallel. Especially since Grissom decides to take to the seas, wandering the world, disconnected from the kingdom of Vegas and the woman he loves, leaving Sara to live her life alone there. It is almost as if he wants her to think he is dead. (Can we further extrapolate that his indulging in high risk behavior may very well indicate that he is being intentionally reckless?)

I like the Finale of CSI as a stand alone Romantic Comedy, and one of these days I'll finish something I was writing about that. The problem with it is that I never believed Grissom would divorce Sara in the first place. OTOH I do think his behavior after the divorce was probably accurate, cutting himself off from everything about their life together. Somewhere in his thinking, he probably truly believed if he set her free that she would find someone to be the kind of husband he thought she deserved, but he certainly never wanted to see it. 

Medieval Romance does not have a happy ending. Eventually you get punished for your sins. To totally pastiche it, the woman discovers her lover to be alive living in some remote corner of the kingdom and does everything in her power to get to him. Either before or while she is sailing there, he is mortally wounded. She arrives just as he dies, and she either dies of a broken heart or kills herself. All wrapped up neatly: their love is eternal but they are punished for their adultery.

CSI came up with a contrivance to get Grissom back to Vegas. At that point GSR ceases to be Romance and becomes Romantic Comedy, 1940s RomCom. It takes the full two hours, but he and Sara end up realizing they belong together. One of the things I like about their sailing off into the sunset is that it is open-ended. At no point does the show say they're off to carry on his eco-terrorist activities. In a metaphoric kind of way, I always saw Vegas as something that always seemed to come between them, either in the first 5 years of the series, when she had to leave, when he refused to leave, when she came back and was left there alone. So I really have no problem with their going off into the great unknown together. Taking one more risk. It's kinda what they do. I see it as their Romance coming full circle on two levels: on one hand, she gave up her life as she knew it to come to Vegas because of him, so she leaves for the same reason. On the other, her leaving to go with him is the parallel to his leaving to go to her. That isn't to say I think they live on his boat, cut off from their life in Vegas, but rather they are scientists who will find a way to do science together. 

My concept is far more detailed and makes sense of my vision of who they are and what would make them happy. But then the nice thing about that ending is that everyone can imagine what they want to imagine. And no one is wrong.

Hope it stays that way.

[stachmousworld]

True love (lesbian story)

Pairing: Mara x Carole

It’s not tragic. I love drama too much.

The main character’s POV is unreliable

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

6 MONTHS LATER

 Carole was better. It is true. She ate by herself; she went out for different activities: she was working out, she went to parties, clubs and even “forgave” her friends…

Who was she kidding? She still had an empty place somewhere that ached. She was still hoping to meet her little adventurer. To even catch the sight of her from across the road. Just a sign that she was still alive, breathing. Because the look she gave before running away was deeply rooted in sadness. Carole was afraid she’d do something stupid. That’s why she checked the obituary daily, which didn’t help with her anxiety, but she couldn’t let go of his habit.

“Care?”

“Yes, dad?”

“Are you ok?”

She nodded and looked at her finger. Ringless finger. She had to put it away. She couldn’t bear the impossible heavy weight of it.

“Still thinking of her.”

Everyone said that time would do its work. And it does. I can’t remember what her voice sounds like, how she smelled…

Her dad appeared sad.

“You really loved her. You have never been like that for Elisabeth.”

“Well, yeah. It felt like something was ripped. When I saw that there were no signs of her in the house. It is like death, torture…”

Her dad hugged her.

“I can’t tell you, that is going to be ok, because I don’t like lying to you, but I wish I had met her. This girl who made you fall so deeply and pushed you to thrive for the best.”

“Yeah, she did. Without even doing anything,” she said, chuckling.

She heard the rest of their family and her friend’s family walking behind them. Carole still didn’t really talk to them like before. She acknowledged them when they were in the same room. She was cordial and they may have laughed together a couple of times, but she couldn’t erase what they’ve done, and she couldn’t look at Elisabeth without feeling kind of angry.

They were all in Hawaii for their families’ long-time reunion. Their families had been collaborators and now friends for decades. And to celebrate their anniversary by traveling in the world, at least once a year.

Carole unbuttoned her shirt. It was so hot and humid! They were following their guide to a waterfall, but to do so they had to go through a forest. Mosquitoes, snakes…it was perilous on every account. The laughter and chatter she could hear around eased her into a better mood.

Before she could think, her acquaintances – ex-friends - were next to her. She smiled tightly at them and kept staring in front of her. They discussed with each other and were nice enough not to insert her in their conversation.

They reached the waterfall soon enough. There was already someone there if Carole took in account the pile of clothes and underwear on the floor. The guide didn’t acknowledge neither. He explained what they could and couldn’t do, and what to be aware of. They were in the wildlife so naturally they’d be dangerous insects, but the waterfall was a good repulsive.

Carole listened with one ear. Her gaze was on the stranger.

“Don’t be a creep, Car’.”

Carole flipped off Elisabeth and ignored the irritation at the nickname. Elisabeth was the worst amongst all of them. She didn’t want to believe that Carole didn’t love her nor wanted to go back to their “relationship”. Carole didn’t even want to talk more than a few words with Elisabeth, so what gave her the idea that she’d do now?

The guide saluted them and walked briskly back into the forest.

The rest of the families settled a little be far from the belongings on the grass. Carole raised her eyes to the sky. Blue. Warm. And let the laughter washed away the morosity. Even in this gorgeous place, Mara’s omnipresence loomed over her.

“When she is going to come out of the water, she’ll have a surprise.” Her uncle joked pointing at the clothes. The rest of them chuckled.

 Carole and her friends stayed away, near the water. The discussion flowed and no one actually made moves toward the food that was discarded. She wished they’d be so hungry that they’d leave her, finally. But no. She had no such luck today.

 She observed the water descending from the top of the cliff to the bottom of the waterfall. She felt the irrepressible fear of deep water threatening to cage her and make her panic. She could swim in pools, seas, lakes where she could see the bottom of it. Otherwise she was quite phobic. Carole didn’t know if she’d be able to get far in this water. The water was clear enough, but the foam caused the water falling prevented her from seeing through it. She curled her toes in the sand and sighed, before putting her bare feet in the water. It was cool enough to be pleasurable.

The conversations next to Carole stopped. Carole raised her head. They all were looking at the naked stranger. She was standing, back to them, her long hair flowing on her back. She was swaying from left to right, arms raised above somewhat dancing. Then, she spun around. Carole couldn’t see her face, but she could tell that the girl had tatts. Lots.

The girl kept dancing for a while before jumping in the water and swimming towards them.

 There was a light silence. Not even her pervert uncle made remarks.

The girl stopped swimming when she was close enough and started walking. Her hair was so full and voluminous even wet. She dried them with her hands while walking out. Her naked body glistened under the tropical sun. her skin as a deep as the bronze with a layer of gold. Carole pushed down the unexplainable dread.  

             Completely in her element and confident in herself, she didn’t appear unease from all the stares she was receiving. She even smiled softly to the kids who were near her and turned to face Carole. Her entire demeanor changed. She straightened her back while holding her clothes close to her chest.

Carole jumped to her feet in recognition.

           Mara.

Carole could tell that Mara was planning her flee by how her eyes were shifty. Carole raised her arms to try and appease her.

“C’est moi. Je ne vais pas te faire du mal. Je veux juste discuter,” she said to her in French, the only foreign language they both talked.

“D’accord,” Mara replied, without hesitation.

Carole’s heart beat faster. It still felt like home. Hearing her voice shouldn’t make her feel like that. Like she was lost and found a safe haven.

« Où est-ce que l’on pourrait parler sans être dérangées? »

Mara looked to her right. The waterfall. She then proceeded to raise an eyebrow, before letting her clothes fall on the floor and walking straight back the water. Carole took off her clothes and followed her. She ignored the gasped, the scream of her mom, the warning of her friends and pushed Elisabeth out of the way as she tried to restrain Carole.

 She followed Mara until the water were past her breasts. Then, as if a cord had been cut, Carole realized where she was. She looked at the water and couldn’t see her feet. She couldn’t move her body. She couldn’t…breathe. The world stopped moving. The sound of the water falling was a buzz far in her mind. The fear of the unknown restricted her lungs. She tried and tried to think of everything else but failed. Miserably.

 She felt a soft hand grab hers and press it on a warm and vibrating skin. The beating of another heart. Her own heart, stubborn, didn’t want to comply. Mara pushed Carole’s head into the crook of her neck. Her heart gave it all to win the fight and beat furiously. Until Mara’s breath brushed the shell of her ear. Carole automatically melted in her arms.

 When she was somewhat calm, Carole pulled away. She registered that she was still in the water, but it was as if her mind couldn’t focus on that detail anymore. Mara was her anchor. Still a little shaky she tried to thank Mara. “Merci.” She gulped and averted her eyes. She couldn’t handle the burning gaze piercing through each of her layers. Not right now. Carole had thought of this moment a million of times. She had prepared a speech – multiple speeches – for every kind of situations, where they’d meet and talk. But. But, this…this wasn’t it.

“Don’t mention it,” Mara replied, her voice sweet as ever.

“I -”

Carole looked at both of their hands intertwined on Mara’s heart. The heart pulsing beneath her palm made it all to real. Carole teared up. Alive. She was alive. Mara let go of her hand and Carole took hers reluctantly away.

“Carole, is everything okay?” Elisabeth asked.

Carole didn’t even hear her approach. God, couldn’t Elisabeth fuck off already. She knew that they must have seen her panicking. It wasn’t an unknown fact that she was afraid of deep water.

Mara took a step away and allowed Elisabeth to force her way in front of Carole. She frowned and slapped away Elisabeth’s hands. Carole tried to talk to Mara but noticed she wasn’t there anymore.

Not again. Carole looked behind her just in time to witness Mara gathering her clothes and entering the forest.

Look at me. Turn around. Turn around.

Mara glanced once over her shoulder and disappeared. Or tried to. Carole was already jumping out of the water and running after her. She followed her lead silently and gathered her thoughts. She had already learned her lesson from the other night. She wouldn’t let her out of her sight again.

 Mara lead them to a small cabin. There was a small garden and a dog. A cub small and agitated. She petted his head and threw one of his toys a little bit away. The dog’s tail straightened before he took off after his toy. The grass was so high Carole had difficulties seeing the dog.

 She shook her head amusedly and walked to the front door. She knocked and waited. Mara appeared only a few second after. She looked surprised. Entirely too much for someone who just so Carole a few minutes ago. She glanced behind her and stepped out.

“What do you want, Carole?” She asked, bluntly.

Carole was taken aback.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

Mara eyed her thoughtfully. Her body was still guarded. Carole could do it. After all, she was was prepared for this.

“If it is to thank me for saving you. Like I said, don’t mention it.”

Mara opened the door ready to end the conversation. Carole was ill-footed, she had to admit. Mara has ever seen so closed. Not to her.

“No. I wanted to apologize.”

Mara stilled.

“I wanted to apologize for the beginning of our relationship. I…I should have waited before getting out with you. I wish I had been more cautious. I didn’t know that you’d think that I toyed with you. With your feelings. And yet you stayed…I don’t understand why. But I did love you. How could I not. The more I learned about you, about your life, I fell in love.”

Mara snickered.

“That’s a beautiful story, but you still kept your ex’s ring, so…I don’t need that. You can go back to your true love and leave me alone.”

“It’s yours.” Mara knuckles turned white on the door handle. “I didn’t know she was there, at the party, I mean. My ex-friends, and mom, decided to “intervene” in my life because they were jealous of us. When you –.” Carole wiped off her tears. “…ran away, it almost killed me. I loved you and I still do. I kept Elisabeth’s ring just for nostalgia, really. Not that I would have chosen her over you. No matter what. Even those first months. Now that I think of it, you were already tattooed in my heart.”

Mara face changed. She let a soft smile stretch her plump lips. The cold and distant shine in her eyes disappeared in favor of a warmer tone. She opened her mouth to speak, but the door opened and revealed the naked body of a woman.

“Babe, did you buy some –.”

Carole bit her lip hard enough to avoid crying. Well, she stupidly didn’t plan that outcome. How naïve of her, to even think that Mara could stay single. She was gorgeous, smart and nice. All in extraordinary package.

Mara had found someone else. Carole pretended to be unaffected, which didn’t seem to be convincible. She was sure her smile looked like a grimace.

“You found someone. I hope you are happy,” Carole said, her voice wobbling at the end.

Before Mara had the time to reply, she fled.

  By the time she went back to her hotel, everything was pitch dark. She had gone back to take her clothes and went to the beach. She needed some time alone and could have never done that surrounded by all those curious eyes.

The image of the naked girl inside Mara’s cabin flashed in her head. She looked gorgeous. Sunkissed skin, bright eyes and this lovey dovey attitude for Mara. “I can’t even compete on my good days, she chuckled. Never could have. I have really lost her.”

Carole rested her head on the cool wall of the elevator.

She had to move on now because she didn’t have a choice. Her little adventurer was…was thriving, beautiful as always. Carole wiped her face and found it dry. Well, looked like she didn’t have any tears left to shed. Carole felt the need to throw a fit, like a kid, stomping her feet and demanding to whoever was listening to bring Mara back.

 She opened her bedroom’s door and found it already illuminated. She sighed presuming that Elisabeth had found a way into her bedroom and was trying – again- to make a move on her.

“Elisabeth, I have already told you, I don’t want you,” she said harshly, as she was taking her shoes off. “Fuck off, to wherever you come and leave me -.”

She stopped dead in her tracks. Mara. On her bed. Carole blushed profusely and tried to compose herself.

“You ran off pretty fast, I have to admit. I didn’t know if you’d come back,” Mara explained calmly, as if everything from her being in this bedroom was normal. Nothing on her face was betraying what she was thinking. Carole shifted on her feet and shrugged. When did she become so shy in front of her lover…Ex-lover.

“I needed time to reflect on life.”

Mara mused for a second and stood up.

“What conclusion did you come to?”

Mara was making her way towards her. Carole was become aware that the thump-thump in her chest was becoming louder, as she stepped closer.

“I have to let you go.”

Mara stopped in front of her. There was maybe an inch between them. Carole could smell her perfume and feel her breath on her lips.

“Let me go? After all this time,” she whispered.

“You…seemed happy,” Carole said, dreamy.

Mara brushed her nose against hers. Carole knew it was bad, Mara had someone, but she was so weak. No! She won’t be the other one. She won’t stoop that low. Who did Mara think she was? If she thought she could toy with her as retaliation, she had another thing coming.

           She pushed Mara, who fell onto her rear. She gasped in shock and stayed there while Carole glared at her.

“Don’t you dare use me! I won’t help you cheat on your girlfriend! Who do you think I am? I love you, yes, but I won’t play this game. You disgust me,” Carole spat. “How could you…I know I have hurt you but that…using me…it is not happening.”

Carole took off her necklace and handed it to Mara. She still was sitting here in shock and confusion…and maybe a little hurt. God, it reminded Carole the look she gave her before running away. A part of Carole wanted to take it back and sooth her pain away.

 She swallowed that feeling and remained cold.

Mara grimaced, stood up, took the necklace. She put the ring in front of her eyes and laughed humorlessly after reading the inscription. Carole, confused, watched leaving the room.

“Farewell,” Mara muttered.

This time, she didn’t glance once behind her.

Fin part 4

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Aladdin Queen fic John Deacon x reader chap. 3; Second meeting

*Author’s note*

Okay guys so get read to binge read this series for a bit because since yesterday after finishing the last part of this chapter as well as writing up all of the next chapter, I’ve got 4 full chapters ready for you all to read and be amazed with. So I hope you all enjoy this little chapter and until the next update in just a short little while.

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural​

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@ixchel-9275​

@georgesgentlyweepingguitar​

@queendeakyy​

@simonedk​

@geek-and-proud​

@kairosfreddie​

_______________________________________________________

In the throne room of the palace, stood the three daughter of Sultan Hassim of Punjab: the eldest Aesha, the middle child Kaia, and the youngest Priyanka along with their escorts and ensembles. Across the throne room just near the steps where the steps stood were the three English kings, King Harold of the kingdom Middlesex, King Michael of Norfolk, and King Arthur of Leicester.

“Welcome Princess Aesha, Kaia and Priyanka. We trust you three had a safe journey.” King Harold stated them as the doors slowly began to open.

When the doors were fully opened there in their royal garb stood Prince Roger and Prince John and in the middle stood Prince Brian.  John nervously and unconsciously touched his right ring finger but remembered his ring was gone so he retreated his hand back.  The three princesses stood in awe at seeing the three English princes.

“By Allah.” Whispered Priyanka.  The three princes slowly walked down the steps with grace and poise and soon coming behind them was a servant around their age with short black hair and a mustache across his lips, in his arms he carried a badger and coming from the other side were the two lions, one female and a male lion with his dark mane shining proudly.

“Daughters of Hassim, allow us to introduce our sons, my only son Prince Brian.” King Harold started off.

“My eldest and only son Prince Roger.” Continued King Michael.

“And my eldest son, Prince John.” Finished King Arthur.  The princesses stood in awe before the middle princess Kaia spoke.

“Why did no one tell us we would be meeting gods?”

“No one mentioned we would either.” Roger flirted back, but unlike how he would normally flirt with a woman, there was a bit of coldness to it.

“Aww thank you.” Kaia gushed obviously oblivious to Roger’s true meaning.

“They say back home in Punjab that we would be worthy of Lakshmi herself.” Bragged Priyanka as she made a high-class laugh and soon the escorts all laughed together in the same unison tone. “Men would line up the entire castle just to get a look at us.” The parrot on top of the advisor holding the snake staff laughed as John finally spoke.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Funny. We share the same title but are clearly not cut from the same cloth when it comes to humility and self-awareness.” At that statement Priyanka shuffled nervously.  King Arthur cleared his throat and whispered.

“John, manners.” It was then Aesha noticed the badger the servant was holding and she said.

“Just what is that rat that servant boy is holding?”

“Badger. He’s a badger, actually. Not even relatively close to the rodent family.” Brian piped in defending his pet badger.

“It looks disgusting, take it out of my sight. I hate things that crawl!” Brian wanted to interject but his father told the servant to walk away with Brian’s badger.

“Oh forget about the rodent thing Aesha, check out those cats. They’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen.” Stated Priyanka. The male lion and lioness both glared at the princesses and were growling lowly.

“Indeed, especially the one with the luscious hair. She’s got to be the most beautifuliest cat I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Answered Kaia.

“He. Male lions have the mane, females don’t.” Roger answered as he stroked through his lion’s mane.

“They like you.” The parrot stated.

“What’s not to like? Back home cats adore us. Here kitty, kitty, kitties, hi kitty, kitties.” Priyanka walked up holding her hand out waving it towards the female lioness who just kept glaring and growling lowly, slowly baring her large canine fangs.  As Priyanka continued to coo at the lioness, she was then met with a roar and a swipe of cat claws.

Her screams echoed through the walls as the escorts all just laughed.

Later that night in the study room of the English kings, they all sat around a desk with maps, books, a globe and scrolls all surrounding them.  Standing before them was their grand vizier.

“My kings, our enemies grow stronger every day yet you allow your sons to dismiss the daughters of Hassim and a possible military alliance.”

“What enemies Paul?” asked king Arthur.

“Liverpool continues to amass.”

“Liverpool is our ally.”

“Was our ally.” Paul hissed out in emphasis.

“You would drag us into war with our oldest alley.”

“And you would allow our kingdom to sink into ruin for mere sentiment!”

“Paul!” roared Michael.  Paul ceased and turned towards the second king. “Remember your place.” Continued king Michael.

“I apologize. Forgive me king Michael, I went to far.” Paul said as he slowly walked towards the door.  But he stopped and slowly turned around and said “But,” it was then the eyes on his snake staff began to glow red.  

It was then the three kings looked at Paul like they were under a trance.

“If you would only reconsider, I think you three would see that invading Liverpool, is the right thing to do.”

“Invading…Liverpool is…..” Arthur droned out in a monotoned voice.

“Invade Liverpool?” Paul was forced to release the spell he had over the three kings as John soon came into the room with a lioness behind him.  His father Arthur turned towards his son as John continued, “Why would we invade mother’s homeland?”

“We would never invade Liverpool.” His father spoke.

“But an ally in Punjab would improve our situation.” Suggested Paul.

“Yes, if you and our sons would reconsider giving the princesses a chance.” Suggested king Harold.

“To rule? Uncle Harold I would rather have Nala as my Queen.”

“My son, we’re not getting any younger and…..we are running out of kingdoms. India is our only hope of a stronger worldly alliance.”

“Why must we marry a royal blood of a foreign country in order to help them? Now I have been preparing for this my whole life, I have read—”

“Books? But you cannot read experience Prince John. Inexperience is dangerous. People left unchecked will revolt, walls and borders unguarded will be attacked.” Paul spoke to him like he was scolding a child.

“Paul is right. One day,” his father came up to him and cupped the side of his face. “You will understand my son.” John looked up at his father breathing sharply but silently. “You may leave now.” John huffed before storming out of the studies with his lioness Nala following behind him.

John stopped in the middle of the hallway trying to calm himself down of his anger but also his sadness that his father still wouldn’t take him seriously.  

Nala, his lioness came up and sat in front of him softly huffing and staring up at him solemnly, but when Paul Prenter came around the corner, her ears narrowed back and she growled defensively.

“Life would be kinder to you, Prince John. You have no wisdom of the world like Brian, nor the ambition of Roger. I think it would be better for you to be seen and not heard.” Paul spoke as he got closer to the young prince.  As Prenter stared him down, he heard the threatening growl and was staring into the golden eyes of Nala.

He glared down at the big cat like he was looking at an abomination before calmly retreating back down the hallway.

John was now back in his, along with Brian’s and Roger’s, bedroom.  He began thinking back to what Paul said.  For years out of the three young Princes, John Deacon has always been the more quieter of the sons, he always relied more on his emotions rather than his actions.

Sure he would speak his mind when the time was necessary but he’d rather not get involved with things that were mostly stupid to him.  After he lost his mother just three years ago he was so depressed and would barely speak, so with each princess he’s met he’s either acted cold and distant, or retorted back with his words like he did earlier this afternoon.  As he walked around the room, he softly sung to himself.

*John*

Here comes a wave meant to wash me away A tide that is taking me under Broken again, left with nothing to say My voice drowned out in the thunder

But I can't cry And I can't start to crumble Whenever they try To shut me or cut me down

I can't stay silent Though they wanna keep me quiet And I tremble when they try it All I know is I won't go speechless

He sat down on the couch on the balcony before wiped away his hidden tears and trying to compose himself before Brian, Roger or their servant came through those doors.

*3rd Person POV*

Outside the palace, a merchant with a cart full of fresh supplies for the palace came pulling up to the gates of the palace and one of the guards told the gate keeper to open the gates.  Standing amongst the crowd of people, who were watching a fire eater perform his nightly routine, (Y/n) stood there and whispered.

“Okay Abu, you know what to do.” Abu hopped off my shoulder and pestered one of the guards.  As he was distracted, I walked up to one of the men and took his shawl off his back and wrapped it over my head and walked alongside the cart, pretending to be one of the assistance.

Unbeknownst to (y/n), something was watching her. The red parrot that always stood on Paul’s shoulder looked down from the perch he was on and said.

“Dirty monkey.” He then took off flying squawking out, “Street thief, street thief.” He flew high and over the palace till he arrived in another large study area that belong to his master, Paul who was now removing standing before a globe with a harsh look in his eyes.

“‘Remember your place, Paul’.”

“Remember your place.” The parrot mocked back.

“If I hear that one more time!”

“Sorry, master!”

“Another petty insult from those three small-minded English buffoons. They see a kingdom, where I see an empire.” Paul said as he walked around the globe towards a book that stood on a podium.

“Such vision.” His parrot spoke.

“Once that lamp sits in my hand…then I shall sit on the throne of England.”

“Thief in the palace.” His parrot spoke as it sat on the railing of the balcony.

“Thief. Thief in the palace?” asked Paul.

“That’s what I said. Thief!”

“What have you seen Iago?” Paul asked his parrot as he walked up towards him.

“Diamond in the rough.” As Paul now stood by his parrot Iago’s side he saw for himself just what the bird was talking about. Jumping and scaling across the top of some of the palace buildings was (Y/n).

After walking across the vineyard walls, (y/n) silently hopped down and hid behind one of the steel vineyard walls just as two guards turned around, wondering if they heard anything.

She then walked into the palace to see some servants cleaning up the room, while the captain of the guard monitored them. Telling them to either make bigger circles, or get a spot that they missed.  (Y/n) noticed an abandoned red sari so she grabbed it and wrapped it around herself.

Paul and Iago came around towards the very part of the palace where they saw (y/n) go into to and there was a female servant with her head bowed down, her face hidden as she held a tray of tea while two guards passed by her.  

When the servant revealed her face, it was (y/n). She softly smiled before walking off towards the Princes chambers.

“Who’s a clever girl?” Iago stated as Paul smirked.

“Indeed. She could be just who we are looking for.” Iago squawked as he flew off and Paul slipped away from the room.

Meanwhile in the Princes’ chambers John was standing along the balcony with the servant boy who came along with them to greet the Princesses.  Prince Brian was by his maps with his badger standing right beside him, sniffing the paper, while Roger sat along his bed with his pet lion by his side.

“But Jim, there has to be something we can do.” John said as their servant Jim prepped him his nightly attire.

“Three princesses want to marry you and your two friends, when will life get any easier?”

“It’s not that we don’t want to marry, it’s just that we…..” Roger spoke as he dried his wet hair after just having his bath.

“John wants to be king, you wish to explore the world, and Brian you wish to become an astronomer.”

“You remember what our mums used to say, we would only be as happy as our least happiest subject. If they saw what Roger and I did today, they would be heartbroken.”

“They would also want us to be safe Deacy. And clean. I’m taking the next bath. You better not have used all the hot water this time Roger.” Brian spoke up as he stood up and headed towards the bathroom.

“No promises.” Roger said.

“With Paul’s guards on every corner, soon he’d have them invading our neighbors, risking lives and for what?” John continued as he looked out towards the balcony.

“Well one good thing will come from this forceful commitment of marriage. When I’m king, I’ll finally have the power to get rid of that slimy leech. What do you think John beheaded or gutting him? Or maybe a hanging?”

“Roger Taylor sometimes you worry me lad.” Jim stated solemnly.

“Oh come off it Jim, you’re the only Irish man I would spare from punishment. But Paul deserves everything I’ve got planned coming to him. I still don’t get why our father’s made him the grand vizier. If anything I would’ve made him the royal poop cleaner to Simba here.” He spoke as he stroked his lion’s mane who huffed and lowly growled. “What do you say Simba? You could give that overdressed, self-absorbed Paul Prenter a thing or two to scream about wouldn’t you?” Roger cooed as he cupped his lion’s face before affectionately headbutting him.

Simba rubbed up against Roger’s head before raising his head up and Roger proceeded to scratch under his chin down to his mid chest.

“To a degree I agree with Roger. We were born to do than marry some useless princess. It seems like all these princesses we are given don’t know how to speak up and just do whatever we say, or are too arrogant and spoiled.” John said.

“If you three had to choose a triplet of princesses, you lot could do worse than these three. I mean they do seem beautiful and yes they are a little spoiled but you’re just getting married. It’s not like you’ll have to talk to them.” Jim said.

“I wouldn’t go there Jim. Besides, he’d rather take that girl from the market place.” Roger teased as Jim softly chuckled before heading towards the bathroom to prepare Brian for his bath. John scoffed a chuckle. “Oh don’t play that John, you both we’re practically gaga for each other this afternoon. Hell she didn’t even notice me at all when we first met.”

“Yes Roger you’re very attractive, so much so that everyone confused you for a woman frequently while we were there.” John mocked back.

“Are you serious?!” cried out Brian from the bathroom.  Roger glared at John and hissed.

“You bitch.” John grinned smugly when a soft knock was heard at the door.  He walked down the two steps of the balcony and went up to the door and opened it to see someone with their back turned.

“Can I help you?” but when the person turned around, John was surprised to see the girl from the marketplace.

*My POV*

When the doors opened to reveal Jim, I held the tray of tea out and said.

“Tea?”

“You? You! What are you doing here!? Get in here now!” he pulled me inside the room and quickly shut the door.

“I came to return your ring.”

“My ring? Where is it?”

“On your finger.” I looked around in awe before I caught the sight of Ben, shirtless but wearing nightly pants stroking a big cat of sorts.  I think I was a lion maybe? Never really seen those here but I have read stories about them. “Oh Ben hello.”

“Well, well look whose come back? Enjoying the view?”

“I’ll admit it’s not bad. I love what the princes have done with the place.”

“How did you get past the guards?” asked Jim.

“That was challenging, but I have my ways.” I said as I turned back towards him. “Hey Jim, while the princes are out, would you—like to go for a stroll? Have a little chat?” I now stood in front of him and he softly shook his head as he said.

“You’re unbelievable. You cannot just break into a palace and walk around like you own the place.”

“If you don’t have anything, you have to act like you own everything.”

“She’s got you there mate.” Ben said as he continued to stroke the lion.

“So what do you say? I did find your ring.”

“You did not find my ring, you stole it.”

“Correction the monkey stole it.”

“He’s your monkey.” He retorted.

“He’s still a monkey.” I argued back.  He softly grinned at me.

“Who ordered the tea?” it was then we all turned to see a tall lean man who had massive curly hair and hazel eyes.  He was in a bathrobe and standing by his side was another lion but without the hair, which made me think that this one was a female lion.  I looked at the man stunned but before I could say anything Jim spoke up.

“I did. For you, Prince John Deacon.” Oh my god this was Prince John.

“Your majesty.” I did my best to bow.

“Why are you being weird?” I heard Prince John say. I turned to look towards Jim who settled himself from doing something and just smiled at me.  I turned back towards the youngest English Prince and that’s when he face shined with realization.

“Oh I’m Prince John. Yes, mm-hmm. And it truly is good to be me. The young prince of Leicester. The accent I have is far unique and strange to anyone else of my little kingdom. But of course I always look up to Prince Brian because he is far superior to me with his wisdom for words and wisdom of numbers. Yes I do so admire that brother of mine.” He praised in an accent that almost clearly didn’t seem to fit him. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my precious lioness needs to be cleaned.” He then turned and walked away.

Okay that was—weird.  I turned towards Jim and he looked at me and said.

“Poor thing doesn’t get out much.” I hummed and turned my back as I set the tea set down on a nearby table.

“Clearly.” But when I turned back around I was suddenly greeted by the lioness staring me down.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the bath?” she walked up towards me and sniffed my hand before softly whining out.

“Oi servant boys! This cat aren’t going to clean themselves you know!” Prince John proclaimed from the back room.

“But don’t cat’s usually clean themselves?” I asked.

“You have to leave now.” Jim urged me on as he dragged me towards the doors.

“Okay. But I’m coming back tomorrow night.”

“What? No you can’t….”

“Meet me in the courtyard beside the fountain when the moon hits above the minaret.” I then swiftly stole another ring from John’s finger, this time a silver medallion pin like ring that rested on his right ring finger. “To return this ring next.” Jim looked at me astonished.

I then reached up and gently but hesitantly tucked back a strand of his hair that fell to his eyes.  I fiddled the ring between my fingers at him giving him my promise, before finally slipping out of the room.

As I ditched the servant sari, Abu came up towards me and got up on my shoulder and we walked off.

*John’s POV*

“What a woman. Now if she had done that to me, I would’ve had her right then and there.” Roger whistled.

“Keep your urges to yourself.” I hissed.  I looked down at my right hand to see my ring finger was now naked but as I touched it, I swore I could still feel a hint of her fingers touching it as she went to grab my ring.

*My POV*

“Can you believe it Abu? The most heavily guarded place in all of Agrabah…” I said as Abu hung from my shoulder to my arm and we both admired the ring as well as me twirling around like it was nothing. But as I faced forward again, the captain of the guards stood before me.

“Evening.” He said as Abu came to hide behind my back.

“Evening.” My voice squeaked before I cleared my throat and I said again, “Evening.” There was silence before I said, “You’ve got guards behind me, don’t you?” suddenly my vision went black as something came over my head and I was dragged out of the palace.