#most notably the part where tomorrow morning i am going to tell them i ordered a shower curtain

[pride-of-storm]

on the one hand 'i get to put up whatever shower curtain i want' is kind of a stupid hill to die on, but on the other hand i have acknowledged your claim on every other hill i could have picked, so fuckin acknowledge my claim on this one

[kozumekenza]

house of memories :: five

:: kageyama tobio x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 2.3k ::

the last you had heard of kageyama tobio, he was following his grandfather’s footsteps and leaving you behind to join the syndicate. a chance meeting throws him back into your life, along with all of the memories.

tw: mafia elements, profanity, blood, gunshot wound, kidnapping, knives, murder, alcohol

When Kageyama finally parks the car for your “date”, you’re not at a fancy restaurant or the penthouse, but at an upscale boutique that you know Miwa frequents. Kageyama opens the door for you as you try to determine why you’re here, but he answers your question before you can fully think about it.

“I know you just got done with lab, but our reservation tonight has a dress code. I’ve had something custom ordered for you, but if you don’t like it, you can choose anything you want. I also need to pick up my suit.”

You look down at your stained jeans and old t-shirt before looking back up. “You custom ordered something for me?”

Kageyama just nods and leads you into the boutique, where you’re greeted by name by the saleswoman. 

“You’re here for the Elie Saab and Armani, yes?”

“Yes, thank you.”

The saleswoman disappears after Kageyama replies, and you have to stop yourself from scolding him for spending so much money on you. 

Apparently, he can read your mind, because he looks over at you and says, “Not going to say anything about how much it costs?”

You scoff. “I think I’d rather not know.”

The woman returns to guide you both to the dressing rooms. The dress is gorgeous, a black low-cut floor-length draped with sequins. You twirl a few times before you exit the room and come face to face with Kageyama, decked out in black Armani. You match perfectly, and the woman tells you so, causing both of you to blush. 

Soon enough, you’re heading towards your next stop of the night. The restaurant Kageyama takes you to is beautiful, with floor to ceiling windows showcasing Tokyo’s skyline. The waiter leads you to a private room (another thing you want to scold Kageyama for) and brings bottle after bottle of wine. The food is amazing too; a full five-course meal prepared by the head chef. 

“You mentioned earlier that you were okay with this being a real date.” Kageyama swirls the wine in his glass as he speaks, his eyes locked on the drink. “What has changed?”

Sighing, you take a sip of wine. You knew that this conversation would be coming eventually, but after spending so much time at the penthouse while he recovered, you think you’re ready for it. You’ve thought a lot about what your future might look like, and while initially, you weren’t sure, now, you’re positive. You want Kageyama to be in your future. 

“A lot has changed. I’m not eighteen anymore, and neither are you. I’ve started my adult life, I’ve gone to college, I’ve matured. When we were eighteen, you told me you were leaving to do this, and that wasn’t something that I could handle at that point. I told myself that it was fine, that we could part ways and I’d never have to be involved, but well, look where I am now. I’m not mad about it, though. I’m glad we somehow found our way back to each other.”

“So, you’re okay with everything I do?”

“I don’t think okay with it would be a good word, but I understand it. It’s not like I necessarily approve of it, but you do what you have to do. It’s part of who you are.”

Kageyama’s still looking at his wine glass, avoiding your searching gaze. “Do you want to be with me? Even with all of the risks, not only to me, but to yourself? With all the blood on my hands?”

“Yes.” He finally looks at you. “I can’t walk away from you again. I won’t walk away from you again. I want you, and everything that comes with you. I want all of it.”

“You do?” The hope in his eyes makes you want to cry.

“Of course, I do.”

Kageyama’s smile is so wide, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile this big. “I’m relieved, honestly. It was going to hurt a lot to watch you leave again.”

“Well lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

---

After a fulfilling dinner and far too many glasses of wine, Kageyama leads the two of you back to the penthouse. He’s very touchy now that you’ve confessed, his hand always on the small of your back or holding your own. You’re happy, thrilled even, for him to be yours once again. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be going down to the club tonight?” Both of you are currently sprawled on the couch, still in nice clothes, with Kageyama’s head on your lap. You run your fingers through his raven hair as he hums with his eyes shut. It’s hard to imagine him as someone that controls most of Tokyo’s underworld when he’s curled up in your lap like a puppy.

“I guess.” He sits up, his hair flopping into his eyes. “Do you wanna come?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Am I allowed?”

He looks at you incredulously, “Of course. It’s all yours now, anyways.”

“Aren’t you moving a bit fast?”

“Absolutely not.” He leans forward to press a kiss to your cheek. “It was always yours.”

You smile when he stands. “Can I change first? This dress is gorgeous, but it isn’t really fitting for a club.”

“Sure. I’ll meet you down here when you’re done.”

You nod and press a quick kiss to his lips before heading up the stairs to Miwa’s room. She’s still out doing whatever it is that Kageyama is supposed to be doing, and you left some of the clothes from your shopping spree here. You change into the zip-up Versace dress Miwa had suggested and touch up your makeup with Miwa’s stash before heading back down. 

Kageyama has changed too, instead of the Armani suit, he’s wearing what he had picked you up in earlier: black jeans and a dark coat. 

“Ready?” He holds his arm out to you and you take it, letting him lead you to the elevator.

---

You’ve been sitting in a booth on the main floor of the club for about an hour, nursing a cocktail, when Kageyama turns to you. So far, he’s just conversed with a few different people and kept an eye on things in the club. 

“I have a meeting in about fifteen minutes. I have a feeling it isn’t going to go very well. You can come with me if you want, but don’t feel pressured to.”

You weigh your options. If you’re really, truly, going to be a part of Kageyama’s life, you’ll need to know about this eventually. 

“I’ll come with you.”

“Okay.” He digs around in his pocket for a second, then passes you a small switchblade. “I’m not expecting you’ll need to use this, but things go wrong all the time. I’m sure you recognize this.”

You turn the knife over in your hands, nodding. It’s one that Kageyama always kept on him as a teenager; you remember summers of him showing you how to use it and how to sharpen it. 

“C’mon, let’s go.”

He takes your hand and leads you down a level and into a meeting room. A large rectangle table is the focal point, with two chairs at the head and five on each side. Kageyama’s guests are already there; you recognize Ushijima among them. You sit at the head of the table, to the right of Kageyama. The significance of the position does not go unnoticed by you or anyone else in the room; you assume that this seat is typically Miwa’s. You receive many ogling stares as you sit and you wonder how Miwa survives these; you’re the only woman in the room right now, and you guess that Miwa frequently is as well. 

Kageyama clears his throat as an attendant brings him a stack of papers. “Should we begin?”

“I’m more interested in knowing who this babe you brought is.” A man with blonde hair and an undercut leans forward and props his elbows up on the table. “I’m Miya Atsumu, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Miya,” the irritation is clear in Kageyama’s voice, “if you would like to keep your ability to speak, I suggest you shut your mouth.”

“Damn, I just wanted to know her name.” Miya raises his hands in innocence, and you sneak a glance at Kageyama, who seems to be regretting letting you come with him.

“Moving on.” Kageyama slides the papers to the center of the table. “Here’s the report for this month. Nothing of note on my side, besides Seijoh being a pain in the ass, as usual. Anything notable for any of you?”

Miya speaks up, “Seijoh placed their normal orders with us this month, besides one exception. There was an uptick in benzos, specifically Valium.”

“Do you think they’re planning something?”

“Hard to tell. I’d say possibly because Valium isn’t on their normal request list. Xanax is, but not Valium. It’s also not a typical party drug like Xanax, so I doubt they’re going to sell it.”

Kageyama hums. “Thank you, Miya. Next?”

A redheaded man that you recognize from your security detail speaks up next. You’re pretty sure his name is Hinata. “I’ve been busy with,” he gestures vaguely in your direction, “but Noya told me that Seijoh has been operating more out of their alternate base than their main one.”

The meeting continues in much of the same fashion, with each individual around the table giving their report on current events, until the last one. 

“Kindaichi.” Kageyama’s voice is commanding, and you immediately know that this is the person who is going to cause this meeting to go wrong. 

The man’s head snaps up, his voice shaking as he speaks. “Yes, sir.”

“You know what you’ve done.” Kageyama slides a knife down the table to him. “You know the rules. You know where your loyalties lie. Choose carefully. I expect your answer by tomorrow morning. Everyone, you’re dismissed.”

Kageyama remains seated, and you follow suit. After everyone has filed out of the meeting room, Kindaichi is still remaining. 

“Yes, Kindaichi?”

You can tell that the man is shaking, terrified of the consequences of whatever it is that he has done. “I-I didn’t mean to, it was an accident, he blackmailed me, and I had no choice, I swear-”

“Save it. You’ve broken my trust and put lives in danger. You will make the decision, or I will make it for you.”

“Sir, I-”

The bang of a gunshot shocks you. Kindaichi is slumped in a pool of blood, and Kageyama sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he returns the glock to the waistband of his jeans. 

“Sorry you had to see that.”

“I-It’s okay.” You can’t pull your eyes away from the corpse. You knew something like this was going to happen. You aren’t necessarily scared, just slightly surprised. You knew it was coming, but it still shocked you. 

“I’m done for the night.” Kageyama stands and puts a hand on your shoulder as you continue staring. “Why don’t we go back to the penthouse, and I can explain what just happened?”

You nod, your face blank as you finally look away and allow Kageyama to lead you out of the room.

---

When you’re finally upstairs, changed into one of Kageyama’s shirts and cuddled up in his bed with him, you speak.

“He wasn’t going to make it out of that room, was he?”

The movie neither of you are watching continues playing in the background as Kageyama sighs and buries his face in your neck. 

“No, he wasn’t.”

“What did he do?”

Kageyama pauses, just slightly. “He was the one who stole the files.”

Your gasp is audible as you sit up. “Really?”

“Yes. It was a huge betrayal, no matter what he was saying.” Kageyama winces before he continues. “Normally, I would’ve done much, much worse than just kill him, but I’m tired.”

You laugh a little as you lay back down, your head on Kageyama’s chest. “It makes sense. I can’t blame you, it's awful that he did that.” You pause, searching for your next question. “Who were the people in the meeting?”

“Members of other syndicates that I’m allied with, as well as some from my own. I’m sure you recognized Hinata and Ushijima. Miya Atsumu and his twin Osamu were there from Inarizaki. Akaashi Keiji from Fukurodani. Kuroo Tetsurou and Kozume Kenma from Nekoma.”

“Hm.” You’re getting tired, lulled to sleep by Kageyama’s deep voice and steady heartbeat.

“Enough of that. You’re exhausted.” He runs a hand up and down your back. “Get some sleep, y/n.”

“Hm.”

You fall asleep with a satisfied smile on your face, cuddled up in Kageyama’s arms.

---

When you wake up the next morning, the other side of the bed is cold. You check your phone to find a text from Kageyama. 

Had to go to work, I’m sorry. There’s breakfast downstairs. Miwa and I are both out, so take one of the cars in the garage. Keys are hanging in the foyer. I’ll meet you for lunch later.

You smile to yourself. Breakfast, your choice of sports car, and a promise for lunch. You could definitely get used to this life of luxury.

---

You walk out of your lecture hall with a sinking feeling in your chest. Ever since you left the penthouse this morning, you’ve felt off. You shake your head to try to clear it as you walk to your lab building. It’s a beautiful day, the late fall winds have started to die down, and the skies are clear. The campus feels serene with how empty it is right now, which also seems a bit weird. You jog up the steps and into the building, pushing open the doors. As you turn the corner, you swear you can feel someone breathing down your neck.

A rag is pressed to your face as someone grabs you from behind, dragging you towards an empty classroom. You struggle, throwing elbows and trying to yell, but your attacker is just too strong. Your vision blurs as you continue inhaling through the rag, which you now realize is soaked in chloroform. 

The last thing you remember before you lose consciousness is a man with brown hair leaning over your terrified face, a sickening smile on his face. 

taglist: @lilith412426 @itoshibaby @wallywaffle @princess-sunshyn @zukoslosthishonor @fatal-impact​

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 9//

(Chapter one) (Chapter two) (Chapter three) (Chapter four) (Chapter five) (Chapter six) (Chapter seven) (Chapter eight) (Chapter nine) (Chapter ten)

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd. Let me know if you would like to be added!)

A week was all Azriel needed to gather the information we hoped wasn’t true. However, after the first few days, the spymaster realized he would have to gather intel on those closest to Keir without arousing suspicion. When low-level sentries turned up without any knowledge, Azriel moved onto interrogating the stewards' personal army of Darkbringers. Together, he, Cassian and Rhys were able to interrogate the captain of Keir’s army—Rhys wiping his memory clean after every session. He hated to do it, but after gathering details of Keir’s plan and his alliance with Kallon, he knew it was necessary.

There was indeed a coup rising against the Court of Dreams.

We filled Mor and Amren in immediately after Azriel broke the news to us, but decided it was best to leave my sisters unaware—for now. Nesta was finally in a good, albeit still cold, place after the war that took place a decade ago and Elain was also finally returning to her normal self; who she used to be before being forcefully made. My sisters were healing, and the last thing I wanted was to reopen their old wounds by revealing that their lives were once again at risk. Nesta, as observant as ever, knew something was amiss but thankfully didn’t press for any information. For now, and until we had a set plan, we could leave them in the dark.

I did my best to hide my worries in front of them, instead allowing Elain to fuss over me and the baby while Rhys and his brothers gathered intel. With all the anxiety of the coup keeping me on edge, I hardly noticed that my previous symptoms weren’t affecting me as they had before. Granted, I was still so fatigued that I slept in until noon and my nausea still plagued me from time to time; at least I was finally starting to feel some relief, which reassured everyone—especially Elain. Now that I was feeling better, she began begging to help plan the nursery. Years ago, before the completion of the construction on the estate, she asked what we should do for the room attached to mine and Rhys’s suite. I originally wanted that room to be our nursery, but at the time I decided to make it into a sitting room. Knowing that an empty nursery sat just beyond the double-doors in my suite was too painful at the time. So, in the meantime, I wanted to make some kind of use for it; despite Rhys and I hardly ever even using it anyway.

After telling Elain where I wanted the nursery, she focused all of her energy into creating the perfect space for the baby. While the Illyrians focused on gathering the information from the Court of Nightmares, I did my best to shift my attention back onto my pregnancy. At first, I went with Rhys to Hewn City to be present for the interrogations with the captain of the Darkbringers, but we hadn’t taken into account the effect winnowing would have on me during my condition. With my powers being so drained, I couldn’t do it myself, so Rhys had winnowed us in. Upon arrival, I had nearly fainted in my mates’ arms. Alarmed, he winnowed us back to Velaris, causing me to actually faint. Once I regained consciousness, a guilt-ridden Madja was there and informed us of that unfortunate side-effect she forgot to mention at our previous appointments. In her defense, said side-effect didn’t usually develop until later in pregnancy, but thanks to my tendency towards extreme fatigue, it developed sooner. There was no explanation as to why winnowing was so taxing on a pregnant female, but Madja theorized that whatever magic it originated from was the culprit.

We decided then that he would go with Cassian to Azriel’s interrogations of the Captain, and once they had the information we needed, we would schedule our official visit to Hewn City. Fortunately, Madja explained that as long as I gave myself at least an hour rest between winnowing—including some recovery time after the initial trip, that it would be safe. A part of me was grateful that I didn’t have to be there for the interrogations, because after every session Rhys returned physically and mentally drained. Even as he recounted every detail to me, I couldn’t imagine the burden and the guilt weighing on his shoulders. The Night Court was his home for centuries; he made many painful sacrifices for the sake of his people. While he did his best to separate himself from the Hewn City, they were still his people; still his court and his ancestors' court. As High Lady for over a decade, it hurt deeply to imagine the threat of a civil war, especially for the innocents here in Velaris. As High Lord for as long as Rhysand was, I knew the pain was worse for him.

“You don’t have to do this every night you know,” Rhys drawled quietly from his place in the tub, summoning me back from my thoughts.

He was leaning on the edge with his chin resting over his crossed arms while I gently scrubbed at his delicately powerful wings. I smiled at his comment, continuing to clean the dirt and debris off his wings. After the first few days of seeing how drained my mate was, I took it upon myself to spoil him with a hot bath—together, to unwind while I cleaned him.

“You won’t let me do anything else since I got pregnant, the least I can do is take care of you,” I replied, dabbing at the other wing with a soft washcloth.

“That’s precisely why. You’re pregnant, and it should be me cleaning you,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at me.

I rolled my eyes, “I’m not the one doing all the heavy lifting.”

“I beg to differ,” he said as he glanced at my belly, still a small swollen mound.

I tried not to smile. “Your son isn’t that heavy, yet. I’m growing a baby, but you’re,” I paused, not wanting to bring up the ugly business of the day during the time I dedicated just for us. “Doing everything else…”

He was quiet until I finished cleaning his wing and turned to face me before cupping my face in his. “You’re working just as hard as I am Feyre, on top of being pregnant,” he said.

I gripped his wrist lightly, “I know that, but just like you’re taking care of me, I want to take care of you too. This time is for me just as much as it is for you.”

His smile was crooked as he responded, “Fair enough.”

I returned his smile and leaned in to give him a quick kiss. We stayed silent for the duration for our bath, not wanting to disturb our peace, but as soon as we were back in our bedroom, I couldn’t resist bringing up our upcoming plans for our visit to the Court of Nightmares.

“What time are we leaving tomorrow?” I asked as I pulled out a light nightgown from my dresser.

Rhys sighed, “After lunch. Cassian and Az want to go over the reports and statements from Keir’s general. We’re trying to piece together a timeline, and Azriel will go alone to finalize details with him while we’re at court.”

I nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed after slipping on my nightgown. Now that we had most of the information we needed, tomorrow we would travel to the Hewn City and announce my pregnancy. This would be our way of reminding Keir who he served and would continue to serve. We’d solidify our reign by furthering Rhys’s lineage.

I watched as he dried himself off and changed into his own night clothes, a simple pair of black shorts, and smiled as I imagined what our son might look like at his father’s age. Would the image the Bone Carver gave me continue to evolve to resemble Rhys? Would he have some semblance of me as well? Regardless, I dreamed of him growing to look and act like his father. But the thought of my son one day being High Lord, of having to put on the same cruel façade as the rest of us, made my heart clench and Rhys noticed it in my face. He perched on the space in front of me and gingerly placed both hands on my ever-swelling stomach.

“We’ll teach him well. After all, you had a pretty good teacher, if I do say so myself,” he said with a smug grin.

I rolled my eyes, “Maybe he’ll inherit my humility, because you’re hopeless.”

Rhys threw his head back with a bark of laughter before taking hold of my face to capture my lips in a deep kiss. He held me there for a few seconds, resting his forehead against mine.

“We won’t expose him to the Court of Nightmares until he’s ready and comfortable with it. I won’t put any pressure on him, I promise,” Rhys reassured.

“I know you won’t,” I sighed. “I just...can’t picture that yet. I think.”

“Well we haven’t officially met him,” Rhys said with a smirk. “We’ll take it one day at a time.”

I nodded and looked down at my stomach. “For now, I guess you have no choice but to be part of the act, but daddy will make it up to you,” I said with a smile and looked back up at Rhys, who had visibly stiffened at the new word I referred to him as.

He mouthed the word silently as I grinned and brought his hands back to my stomach, “That’s what he’s going to call you, you know.”

He nodded, matching my grin with a wicked one and wiggled his eyebrow, “I wouldn’t be opposed to you calling me that once in a while either.”

I laughed as I shoved him away, his laughter matching my own as he tackled me onto the bed.

X

Rhys and I stood alone at the gates outside the throne room in the Hewn City; Mor, Cassian, and Azriel already inside waiting for us at the base of the dais. They had gathered all the citizens of the city inside, on the order that their Lord and Lady were making a notable appearance today. I stared at the dark, cruel, scaled beasts carved on either pillar and ran my hands over the gentle swell of my belly. While getting ready this morning, Rhys pulled out a delicately midnight blue, floor-length, long sleeved gown fashioned of tiny sparkling crystals made to resemble lace. I nearly sobbed when my mate revealed that it was a maternity gown his mother made for me.

The impossibly soft fabric hugged my every curve, the patterned lace forming a deep ‘V’ shape over my breasts and opened in the back, allowing my tattoos to be on display. The sleeves capped at my wrists, the lace blending perfectly with the tattoos on both arms. More importantly, the gown hung over the prominence of my stomach; accentuating it enough to send our message without words. The High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court were expecting.

A dangerous announcement to make so early in my pregnancy, but a necessary one thanks to the current looming threat. While we initially feared it would enable Keir to push his and Kallon’s plans into motion sooner than we hoped, now we had our timeline and knew what to expect.

“Ready to be wicked?” Rhys purred as he rested a hand on the small of my back, jolting me from my thoughts.

Glancing again at the beautifully dark and brutal carved beasts on the gates, I nodded with a smirk and turned to him. “Let’s go.”

Both straightening to our full height, Rhys moved his hand to hold mine up as he escorted me into the throne room as the gates groaned open to reveal us to our court. The gathering crowd grew eerily quiet as Rhys and I ascended across the dark marble floor. Then the gasps came as they slowly, one by one, took notice of my stomach.

Though my shoulders were already squared, I tilted my chin up a little higher as the new weight of their observations fell over me. Over the decade I had gotten used to their stares, their murmurings, every time Rhys and I visited. This time was different. A pregnant female was rare and seeing as it had been centuries since a child was born into the ruling family of the Night Court, their gaze almost felt...scandalous. My façade remained as solid as ever as Rhys escorted me to our twin thrones, the crowd ceasing any whispers of my condition as we turned to face them. I sat first, but Rhys remained standing as his eyes met with Keir’s. The male stiffened the second he saw my belly and by the murderous look on Mor’s face, standing at the foot of the dais with the two Illyrians flanking her sides, he must have revealed his immediate disgust.

I could feel Rhys’s front cracking a bit, his dark powers slowly filling the room with shadows as he stared down the steward—who, thankfully, wasn’t sneering this time as he stared back.

“Bow,” was all Rhys said, struggling with the effort to reign in his overprotective instincts from misting Keir on the spot.

While the crowd moved immediately at his order, Keir did so reluctantly, Mor’s mother at his side and following his lead. I sent a gentle wave of my power down the bond in an effort to calm my mate. Don’t let him get to you. 

He didn’t respond, instead tightening up his veneer, shadows dissipating, and sat in his throne before waving an idle hand to the court. “Rise,” he commanded.

The crowd moved together as one, and he waved a hand nonchalantly in dismissal; allowing them to return to their business. Keir dismissed his wife and remained across from us before clearing his throat. “I see congratulations are in order,” he commented, his sneer returning as his eyes shifted from our faces to my stomach.

I couldn’t help the protective hand I placed over it, wanting desperately to shield my child, but I instead moved my hand to the top—just below my bust line, emphasizing it more.

“Indeed, though you don’t actually mean it, do you?” Mor drawled, her voice and face fiercely calm.

Keir ignored his daughter and returned his gaze to Rhys, apparently choosing to outright ignore my presence as well, “I take it this means your lineage will pass onto the child?”

“Did you not expect my mate and I to produce any offspring? That I would simply pass my crown onto someone who wasn’t of my blood?” Rhys replied, keeping his stare dark.

Keir shifted on his feet, “I was always under the impression that a powerful High Lord such as yourself would choose not to procreate, why create any direct competition to your rule? Just take a look at the Autumn Court; so many sons all vying for the same throne by any means necessary, including murder.”

His words dripped with disdain, his insinuations mocking. “And yet you chose to try and secure an alliance with the court you warn us of now. From the look of it, you rather idolize the idea of a son overthrowing his father, or vice versa.” I replied, my tone as icy as my mask.

Keir’s shoulders stiffened at my words, his formidable gaze meeting mine. Through the bond, I could feel Rhys’s dark shadows creeping in the corners of the room. Mor and Cassian watched us, their stares deadly and ready to intervene. Azriel was already gone to attend to his mission while we remained.

The steward tilted his head forward in a slight bow, finally acknowledging me. “I would never presume such a thing, milady. As always, I am at your service,” he said, his voice tight.

It took all of my strength not to scoff at his words or snap his neck. Instead, I slowly stood from my throne, leaving my hand on the curved apex of my belly. “My son will inherit this very throne. And if neither I nor my mate grow weary of your existence by then, you will serve him as well.”

“I’m sure your son will rule just as sufficiently, my lady.” He bit back.

The aura in the room shifted as Rhys’s dark shadows were overpowered by my own. I blasted out dark talons of my power and sank them into Keir’s mind, painfully seizing him in place as I took a slow step onto the foot of the dais just a few feet away from Mor and Cassian, who now held their breaths as they watched me. Rhys remained in his throne, his own dark power emanating with mine as I felt a silent nod of approval down the bond.

My heart pounded in my chest from the effort of my display of power, and I felt my knees shake a bit as I continued staring at Keir with an icy smile. “My son will be more than sufficient; I promise you that. As you said, he's the son of a very powerful High Lord. I should also remind you of the power of your High Lady. With the combined powers of all the High Lords in Prythian, including your High Lord, just imagine what his powers would be like? Won’t that be a magnificent sight to behold?”

I tightened my grip on him, and he did his best not to cringe in pain as he managed to hiss, “Yes, milady.”

My power slipped from him immediately as I was unable to hold on, my forehead gleaming with sweat, and it took me a few silent deep breaths before I smiled cruelly. “That’s good to hear.”

Rhys was at my side in a second as my knees trembled again. The exertion it took to intimidate Keir was draining, much more than I had anticipated. I was grateful for my floor length gown hiding my trembling legs as Rhys perched his hand on the small of my back.

Are you okay?

Yes, I just need to sit down. I reassured.

We’re leaving now, don’t worry

Keir was catching his own breath as he stared us down. As much as I didn’t want to reveal any weakness, neither did he. After a minute, he straightened again and tilted his head towards Rhys in a bow. “Is that all you needed milord? Your visit was last minute, and I was in the midst of gathering your reports.”

Azriel had showed up only seconds prior to Keir speaking, giving a silent nod to me and Rhys, indicating he gathered the last of the intel we needed. Rhys waved an idle hand at Keir, “The High Lady and I wanted to share our news and be on our way. Go. Continue to serve me as you have,” he said as he began escorting me back towards the gated doors, Mor, Cassian, and Azriel trailing behind us.

We stopped before stepping into the frame, looking back over his shoulder at Keir--who remained at his same spot before our thrones. “Unless, of course, we grow tired of your existence,” he drawled before we continued out the doors.

The minute we were out of view of him, and the rest of the court patrons, he scooped me up into his arms and flew us into the palace above the mountains, the others right behind us. Amren was waiting in the open hall, seated on a settee, but popped up immediately when she took in my pale features.

“What happened?” She asked, but Rhys ignored her, sitting me gingerly on the settee and kneeling before me to check over my condition.

“I’m fine,” I reassured him and the others as they gathered around me, the jasmine scented breeze already doing wonders to soothe my tired body as I breathed deeply. “That took a lot more effort than it used to, that’s all.”

Mor sighed in relief before grinning smugly, “You did a damn fine job though, the look on his face was priceless.” she boasted.

Cassian crossed his arms over his chest, “I have to admit, you even intimidated me a little bit.”

I smiled tiredly as Rhys stood, facing them. “It intimidated him for now. Maybe that’ll be enough to stumble his plans with Kallon for a while. That alliance explains why he’s been more and more arrogant these past years, but our news of the baby today threw a wrench in their plans. A temporary one at least.”

“Did you get everything you needed?” I asked Azriel.

Everyone turned to the shadowsinger, who nodded. “I went over our timeline with the general, he confirmed the details, but revealed one more possible player.”

We all paused, and Rhys frowned, “Another alliance?”

Azriel nodded, causing Cassian and Mor to curse. Amren crossed her arms, “Let me guess. Beron?”

He nodded again, and Rhys cursed as I sighed. “He really wants that damn alliance with Beron, doesn’t he?” I asked.

“Did the general know what Beron’s role in all this is?” Rhys asked.

Azriel shook his head, “He only knew that they’ve been exchanging letters. No one seems to know what the letters say, or any other context, but it's rumored that it has to do with the coup.”

“We need to keep interrogating the general,” Cassian said. “He’ll find out eventually, and we need him to keep relaying information.”

Rhys nodded in agreement. “I’ll keep my grip on his mind, making sure he forgets but also start leading him to inquire about the letters.”

“I can get one of my spies to keep tabs on Keir,” Azriel insisted, but Rhys shook his head.

“This is a better way in. We can’t let Keir know we’re onto him. We already have your spies trailing Kallon and monitoring the camps in the mountains. Kallon thinks it’s part of our normal rotation. If Keir notices the same presence, he’ll connect the dots.” He explained.

Azriel and Cassian nodded in agreement. “So, what do we do now?” I asked, and one by one everyone took notice of my hand idly caressing my stomach.

Now that the Court of Nightmares knew of my pregnancy, word would spread quickly over the entire Night Court, including the Illyrians. Those behind this rising coup would find a way to regroup and create some new plan of action, that was guaranteed. The news of a potential new alliance with another court meant that their numbers were even greater now. My eyes met with Rhys’s as we both realized at the same time what our next move was.

“We need to call on our friends for an early summit meeting.”

[always5hineee]

Profit Margin- Chapter 7: Scrutiny

Chapter warnings: Mild language and mild themes

Word count: 1581  

-----

       When the doors revealed the room behind them, she was actually quite surprised. Of course, she was expecting it to be elegant to an extent, but it was particularly... well, different. Rather than red carpets and mahogany finish, everything was very modern. The floor was black tiles, which matched with most of the furniture. All the sleek surfaces, most notably the desk, were this same tile-esque texture, while the chairs were a more velvety black with silver accents and support.

       There were blackout curtains on the window, although they were drawn back to allow light into the room. She would have tried to look out and see where they were, but the windows were clearly blinded. Still, based on the color of the light, it may have been close to midday, although she couldn't tell if it was morning or afternoon. It felt a bit weird to be so dressed up in the middle of the day, but there wasn't much she could do about it.

       There were a few black doors on each side of the room, although it was unclear if they were Kun's private rooms, storage, passages, or holding cells. Honestly, they could be anything. Kun and another man were conversing at the back of the space near the main desk, and it was only as he saw her and gestured to the others that she realized just how many people were in the room.

       Xiaojun and YangYang appeared from the corners, moving to shut the curtains and send the room into darkness. Hendery appeared behind her and Lucas, startling her as he slammed the deadbolt shut.

       "Hey, honey." He muttered, passing her with a smirk. "Love the dress." She felt something brush the back of her leg, and she chose to ignore it as disgust rose in her throat. "Put on a good show, okay?" Lucas obviously heard him, but chose to do nothing. She didn't know if he chose to out of respect or necessity, but nonetheless, it rubbed her the wrong way. At this, she began to see some new faces as well.

       Lurking a few feet behind Kun was a thinner man, slightly shorter than the leader, clearly not any sort of client. The most unsettling thing about him were the two giant automatic weapons on his hips. Who was it? Some sort of grunt? No, that didn't make sense. Then... Before she could figure it out, though, Lucas reached behind her to mess with a dial on the wall. With that, the lights on the ceiling shifted on, providing a soft, warm light. It was then that she saw the mystery man's face.

       Ten. Ten from WayV. Yet another one of her idols, perfect image shattered in her mind. He was carrying guns, and she assumed that he knew how to use them. Would there be no end to this? The only one she hadn't seen yet was... was WinWin. Please don't let him be involved... She practically prayed. If there could only be one at this point, she'd be happy. Please...

       "Let's get started." Kun spoke out, voice achingly familiar and yet completely foreign to her. He had not made eye contact with her since she arrived. Maybe he thought he was above it. Surprisingly, they didn't stay in the current room, but rather she was led by Lucas into one of the adjoining doors. The lighting matched the open room, indicating that they were connected. There were no windows, and a small auditorium's worth of seats- maybe fifty? At the front of all of it, there was a very short black stage- a glorified stair, if anything. Lucas brought her in, leading her to the front and up onto the step, leaning down to mutter in her ear.

       "Are you going to stay up here, or do we have to restrain you?" She didn't know whether it was meant to be threatening or just come off that way, but she shook her head quickly.

       "I'll stay." He nodded as if to tell her that she made the right decision. And with that, the man left her in the light, alone. She hadn't realized just how good a job his large frame had been doing of providing her a sick sense of comfort. Now, she had no shield, no body beside her. He took a seat in the second row, along with Xiaojun and YangYang. Ten and Henry sat to Kun's left in the front row, the client to the right. He was dressed in a simple black tuxedo, hat, and shades, clearly trying to mask his identity. That being said, she could tell he was older, maybe mid forties or fifties.

       "She's quite submissive." The man commented, noting the lack of chains or ropes. "Or at least easily manipulated. That's generally good in such a purchase." This remark caused a flare of anger in her chest. Who was he to judge her character so quickly? She wanted to call back, but her eyes shifted to Lucas. He was giving her a warning stare. Gritting her teeth, she held her tongue.

       "She's quite young, although not suspiciously so." Kun began explaining. "Her birth name is Y/N. You are obviously free to change it, and we do recommend it for safety reasons. I'll remind you of your non-disclosure agreement and the consequences if you put our business in jeopardy." The man seemed to clearly understand this. "The rest is clear, as she's standing in front of you. I trust height, race, figure, and etcetera are all to your approval?" The man stood, gesturing forward.

       "May I?"

       "Of course." She shrank back as both Kun and the client approached her. She felt both of their eyes on her body, judging her worth by every inch. It was disgusting. He reached forward to grab her wrists, holding them above her head.

       "Hmm. Not perfect, but I suppose that's to be expected. Definitely one of the better I've seen though. Quite redeemable, considering you've only offered one, today." She tried not to whimper as she saw his other hand draw back, reaching for her midsection. This was going to be awful.

       At some point, though, his hand stopped. Daring to look down, she saw that another's had gotten in his way. Glancing to the right, she saw the thin frame from earlier up close. How had Ten gotten up here so fast? And more importantly, why?

       "We politely request that you don't overly handle the goods until the exchange paperwork is in order." He said smoothly. At this, the client let go of her wrists as well, letting her now-sore arms drop slowly.

       "Yes, of course, my apologies." He continued looking her over, but refrained from touching her. "You know, it would be much easier to calculate my offer if my understanding of the subject was more... complete."

       "You know by now that we only take offers in this state. I can guarantee you that her skin, birthmark, health, and scarring situation is exactly how we described to you in your inquiry. We have a business guarantee, after all." Kun reassured him. She silently found herself sighing as the relief of not being derobed put her at ease.

       "Alright, I'll gibe you forty-five thousand for her." Kun's eyes shifted to her's for the very first time that day, and then back to the client. She had no idea what she saw in that moment. It filled her with both fear and peace, yet spoke no words. She couldn't read him at all.

       "That's ridiculously low."

       "I disagree, I think it's appropriate, especially for a customer of my particular statistics. In addition, I don't seem to see your financial handler anywhere, so who are you to-"

       "WinWin is unfortunately caught up in preliminary promotional photoshoots with 127. He'll be back for our performance tomorrow. That being said, I am more than confident in my abilities as a business man, and in turn, I am telling you that you are completely out of your lane."

       "Fifty thousand."

       "Too low." The client began to look exasperated at this point.

       "What do you want from me? How much can you possibly think-"

       "A heart can sell for close to one million dollars alone."

       "You know I'm not in the organ trafficking business."

       "Regardless."

       "You know that fifty thousand is standard for a human being sold whole."

       "Yes, but I'm considering the demand. I could dismember her myself and make close to forty million from the parts alone."

       "I definitely can't offer you forty million for one bitch."

       "I'll ask that you speak respectfully in the presence of a woman. I'm not asking for forty million. Let's say... five hundred thousand."

       "That's ridiculous!" The man exclaimed. "I'll go up to one hundred thousand, and that is my final offer!" Kun shook his head, almost mockingly, clicking his tongue in turn.

       "Abhorrent. I'm telling you my price." The man moved forward quickly, seething at this point.

       "You think that you can just bring me here, offer me one product, and then dare-" He lifted his hands as if to strike a blow. Kun didn't move in inch. Suddenly, she heard a few loud bangs, followed by a harsh cry. Screaming, she dropped to her knees, covering her ears with her arms in terror. She saw a heavy black boot step in front of her, the smoking tip of a gun just barely in her line of sight.

Go to Chapter 8

[lifeofresulullah]

The Life of The Prophet Muhammad(pbuh): The Conquest of Makkah and Afterwards

The Siege of Taif: Part 1

The people of Thaqif, who were defeated by Muslims in the Battle of Hunayn, took refuge in their land, Taif; they closed the gates of the city and prepared to fight.  

It was one of the last shelters of polytheism. They had to be defeated so that they would never have the courage to oppose Islam. Malik b. Awf, who had made the tribes of Hawazin and Thaqif revolt against Muslims, took shelter there, too. It was necessary to catch him and punish him.

Therefore, the Prophet set off toward Taif with the mujahids. He knew Taif very well. Years ago, he had experienced the most painful days of his life there. He had gone to Taif to invite them to Islam but they had stoned him and he was drenched in blood.

The Islamic army reached the land of Taif soon. However, the people of Thaqif had locked themselves into their castle and stocked plenty of food as a precaution.  

It was not possible to enter the city by climbing the walls. Therefore, the Messenger of God besieged the city. The headquarters of the Islamic army was near the city walls; therefore, the mujahids received many arrow shots. Meanwhile, several mujahids were martyred by arrows.

Thereupon, the Messenger of God moved the headquarters back, near the place where the Mosque of Taif is located today. Two tents were put up for Umm Salama and Zaynab, the wives of the Prophet. The Messenger of God performed his prayers between these two tents and sat there. After the people of Thaqif became Muslims, they built a mosque there and named it “Sariya Mosque”

During the siege, fighting continued in the form of throwing arrows.

The People of Thaqif are Stoned Through Catapults

When the Prophet saw that the siege prolonged and that the people of Thaqif had no intention of surrendering, he talked to the mujahids to set up some catapults and throw stones at them.

Salman al-Farisi said, “I find it appropriate; we used to set up catapults in Persia in the castles and the enemy also used to set up catapults against us. Thus, it was easier to defeat each other. When there were no catapults, we had to wait for a long time.”

The Messenger of God liked the idea of Salman and ordered a catapult to be set up. The order was fulfilled. There were two catapults in the army; with the new one that was set up, the number of the catapults amounted to three. There were also two dabbadas (strong carriage made of cowhide) in the Islamic army.

The mujahids tried to go under these dabbadas and approach the castle and break through the wall but they could not manage it because the arrows, hot pieces of iron and pokers thrown by the enemy soldiers pierced the hide and made it difficult for them to proceed. Meanwhile, a few mujahids were martyred.

Attempt to Cut off Grapevines

The siege prolonged and the aim could not be realized. Thereupon, the Messenger of God took a different measure: In order to suppress the enemy economically, he announced that the vineyards and orchards that belonged to the notables of Taif and where high quality grapes were cultivated would be destroyed; and he ordered the mujahids to cut off the grapevines.

When the people of Thaqif saw that their vineyards and orchards, which were their only source of income, were being destroyed, they said to the Prophet, “O Muhammad! Why are you cutting off our plants? If you defeat us, you will take them. Otherwise, leave them to us by considering the consent of God and the rights of kinship.”

Thereupon, the Messenger of God said, “I am leaving your vineyards considering the consent of God and the rights of kinship.” Then, he prohibited the mujahids from cutting off their grapevines.

Meanwhile, Khalid b. Walid, the heroic Companion asked the enemy to send someone to fight him one-on-one. However, there was no reaction from the enemy. One of them said to Khalid,

“None of us will leave the castle to fight you. We are going to continue sitting in the castle. We have enough food stock for years. If we run out of food and if you prefer to wait until then, we will draw our swords and fight you until we die.”

A New Tactic

The siege went on and on. The people of Thaqif had no intention of leaving their castle and fighting one-on-one. They did not think of surrendering, either.

Thereupon, the Prophet used a different tactic. He had an announcement made: “Any slave that leaves the castle, joins us and becomes a Muslim will be free.”

Upon this announcement, about twenty slaves left the castle, joined the Islamic army and became Muslims. The Prophet freed them and surrendered each of them to a wealthy Muslim so that they will teach them how to read the Quran and teach them about the sunnahs.

When the people of Thaqif later became Muslims, they asked the Prophet to return those slaves to them. However, the Prophet rejected their request by saying, “God freed them; I cannot return them to you.”

The Hypocrisy of Uyayna b. Hisn

Meanwhile, Uyayna b. Hisn went to the presence of the Prophet and said, “O Messenger of God! Let me go and talk to them; I will invite them to Islam. Maybe God will grant them guidance.”

When the Messenger of God let Uyayna, he went to the people of Taif and talked to them contrary to what he said to the Prophet, “By God, Muhammad has never encountered any people like you. Your castles are well-protected. Go on resisting.”

After that, Uyayna returned.

The Messenger of God said, “O Uyayna! What did you tell them?”

Uyayna spoke as if he was telling the truth: “I invited them to become Muslims. I said, ‘Muhammad will not return unless you surrender. Surrender and ask for forgiveness.’”

When Uyayna finished his talk, the Prophet said to him furiously, “You are lying. You said this and that.” The Prophet told him exactly what he had said.

Uyayna’s face blushed. He said, “You are telling the truth, O Messenger of God! I ask God to forgive me for what I said. I regret it. I repent to God.”

Meanwhile, Hazrat Umaru’l-Faruq said, “O Messenger of God! Let me kill him.”

The Messenger of God said, “No! People will say I am killing my Companions then.”

The Dream of the Prophet

One night, the Prophet saw a dream. He saw that he was offered a bowl of butter but a cock turned over the bowl with its beak and spilled the butter.

When the Prophet told his Companions about his dream, Hazrat Abu Bakr said, “O Messenger of God! I think you will not attain what you wish about the people of Taif today.”

The Prophet had the same idea. He said, “I do not think it is possible, either.

The Siege is Lifted

The Messenger of God realized that he would not be able to conquer Taif at that time. If he continued the siege, he would lose time.

Mnawhile, he told his Companions that he was not given the permission to conquer Taif for the time being.

Thereupon, Hazrat Umar said, “Shall we tell people to get ready to retreat?”

The Prophet said, “Yes...”

Thereupon, Hazrat Umar told the Muslims to get ready to leave Taif. Hazrat Umar also asked the Prophet, “O Messenger of God! Will you pray against the people of Thaqif?”

The Prophet said, “God did not allow me to pray against them. Get ready to move.”

However, some of the mujahids did not want to leave without attaining anything. The even said, “Where are we going without conquering Taif?”

They applied to Hazrat Abu Bakr. He said to them, “God and His Messenger know it better. The Messenger of God receives orders from the sky.”

Thereupon, they went to Hazrat Umaru’l-Faruq and talked to him. Hazrat Umar said to them,

“We experienced the Incident of Hudaybiyah. In Hudaybiyah, I had some doubts that only God knew. That day, I uttered some words that I had never uttered before to the Messenger of God (pbuh). My family and property were almost destroyed. There was no conquest better than the Peace Treaty of Hudaybiyah for the people. The number of the people who became Muslims   after the Hudaybiyah was bigger than the number of people who became Muslims during the period between the day the Messenger of God (pbuh) was sent as a prophet and the day the Peace Treaty was signed in Hudaybiyah; and they became Muslims without any fighting. Whatever the Messenger of God does is good. After the Incident of Hu­daybiyah, I cannot object to him for anything. This is God’s affair. He reveals to His Prophet whatever He wishes.”

When the Prophet noticed that the general opinion of the mujahids was to stay in Taif for some more time, he said to them, “Get ready to fight tomorrow morning.”

In the morning, they fought. However, this fighting brought about nothing but some wounds. The mujahids also believed that they could not conquer Taif. When the Prophet said, “Inshaallah, we will return tomorrow”, they were happy. The Prophet smiled at their state.  

The Messenger of God and his army left Taif after a siege that lasted for about thirty days.

The people of Thaqif struggled with the mujahids a lot; they tired and wounded them; they also martyred about fourteen mujahids. Therefore, when the mujahids were about to leave, they asked the Prophet to pray against the people of Thaqif. However, the Prophet, who was sent as mercy to the realms, prayed as follows: “O God! Show the people of Thaqif the right path and make them come to us.”

The Messenger of God had such a vast feeling of mercy and such a big ocean of compassion that he did not want even his fiercest enemies to be destroyed; on the contrary, he wanted them to live with the light of Islam and belief. He asked his Lord to do it.

[beautifulletdownfics]

Twenty Good Reasons :: Part One

Hello!  Welcome to the ‘Someday, Someday’ sequel! I hope you’ll enjoy your time here!  Before you start, make sure you check out the Harry & Nina Chronology page to catch up on a few of the drabbles and novellas that slot in the gap between ‘Someday, Someday’ and ‘Twenty Good Reasons’. As always, please don’t be strangers, posting into the void is a terrifying thing! Love K x

+++

I wrote a symphony.

I had written a symphony and tonight I was conducting the London Symphony Orchestra in what would be my professional debut as a composer and conductor. London’s Royal Albert Hall was sold out, a fact I sincerely wished the Director of Music kept to himself. I tried not to think about the magnitude of the opportunity I had tonight to disappoint, to not live up to what was expected of me.

The conductor’s suite was cold and quiet around me, and with no instrument to tune to keep my hands busy, I was flipping through a five-year-old edition of Hello Magazine. My eyes stared at the clock on the wall, not taking in any of the dated royal gossip or reality star news, it was an odd juxtaposition really—London’s premier music venue housing a copy of the gossip rag from the pits of hell.

Months of tension and trying to sleep through the noise of dozens of melodies simultaneously rolling through my thoughts at once had finally dissipated into an unsettling silence. The notes weren’t fluid anymore, they were set, and a seventy piece orchestra knew the movements backwards and forwards.

It was anti-climatic in the sense that the worry and stress didn’t end, they just became centred in a different place. Instead of biting my nails over crescendos and harmonies, I was in the middle of an even more terrifying process of considering how it all might sound to the thousands of people above me, being ushered to their seats.

I picked at the sequinned hem of my dress and wondered what the heck I was supposed to do tomorrow.

Tomorrow—when I wasn’t writing and rewriting the movements anymore—when what felt like my life’s work was out there, and I couldn’t hide it way anymore. Did I just wake up as usual, walk to the cafe down the street and order a latte? Sit at a window seat, and one by one delete all the notes and voice memos on my phone from the last twelve months of writing? Did I immediately start work on a follow-up? Would anybody want a follow up from me?

I suddenly wished more than anything that I was in the green room with my peers warming up my horn for any typical performance. Knowing I was going to walk out on stage after they did made my stomach hollow out.

My phone started vibrating from its spot on the vanity in the corner, and when I got to it, I stood over it for a little while, looking at Harry’s name flash up on the screen with a call. After three years my instinct was to reach out to Harry whenever I felt like this; like I wasn’t in control of how time was moving, and I wasn’t sure how to reach back into my life and be present. My fingers itched to answer his call, to hear his voice and be comforted by whatever lovely and motivating things he would say.

But I couldn’t. I’d fall apart if I heard Harry's voice tonight because he wasn’t here. He wasn’t here, and that something I was completely unprepared for.

It wasn’t anybody’s fault, not really.

If anything the fact Harry couldn’t be here was because of me. Harry planned his Asian touring dates around when my debut was supposed to take place, a few weeks from now. A month ago I played tonight’s suites in full to the orchestra board and directors, and they decided they wanted to move everything forward, opening the season with my debut instead of having it in the middle of the season.

It was a promotion for my work, and it was a huge show of faith and support from my community. But it meant Harry had shows with tickets already sold and there was no good way of telling fans in four cities they were going to be refunded or offered tickets for alternate dates. Particularly when Harry’s picture was sure to show up in London somewhere, and it would be plainly obvious he cancelled shows to see his girlfriend.

A text flashed up on my phone.

Harry: I love you. You’re going to be fantastic. Remember to breathe. x

It was sweet of him to text, he would know more than anyone how I was feeling. I didn’t have it in me to do the time conversion to where he was at the moment. He was right in the middle of the Asian leg. I tried my best to swallow my sadness down—I knew Harry wasn’t choosing to miss this.

After finding out tonight’s performance was going to be so much earlier than I had expected the time flew by quickly as I went through all the rigours of finalising the score and then rehearsing it with the orchestra. It had been four weeks of early mornings and late nights, fielding questions from players and getting it up to performance standard. Harry was a saint for dealing will all my teary FaceTime calls and the almost daily texts about giving up.

I tried not to overthink how wrong it felt knowing Harry wouldn’t be there afterwards to celebrate with my family and friends. All the late nights I spent with Harry pouring over my compositions trying to find the notes that were out of place and to then not have him sitting in the audience the first time it was played—and my first time conducting a professional orchestra … It felt like I was being robbed of something.

He was the perfect helper over the twelve months the symphony took to write. Some parts happened quickly, and others were hard-won, with dozens of edits and reprises. Harry was the best second set of ears I could have asked for. He learned over the years how music was put together, and when I was pathetic and frustrated in the middle of the night, he spoke my language in calm, loving perfection.

I had my dad to be my critical, technical sounding board, and my boyfriend to be the ever encouraging, soft set of hands I needed when it all felt hopeless. Harry knew when to push me to keep going, and when to pull me from the room and distract my mind with something else.

I missed him.

Harry and I hadn’t spent more than 72 hours together in four months. There were a handful of weekend visits—most notably my twenty-fourth birthday we spent in Copenhagen—and three days quite recently spending Christmas with our families ... But beyond that, Harry and I were doing long distance, the end in sight but too far away to be a real comfort yet.

In some ways, the four months apart seemed to had passed exceptionally quickly, but in others—mainly the ones that seemed to carry the most weight—it was as if time had slowed to twice it’s speed and filling the extra space was all the time I spent missing him.

I spent half my days hating technology—hating talking through a phone with typed or faceless words, and hating early mornings on Skype where a 2D depiction of Harry could only soothe so far—and the rest of the days clutching my phone like a lifeline, praising the 21st century for its ability to connect to people on opposite sides of the planet.

We made it work, which was a line I’d stolen from Harry in interviews over the years. But it was true, nonetheless. Sometimes it felt overly simplistic, but there was a simple truth to it that I liked.

Today though, I had vowed to be happy even in his absence.

“Ten-minute call,” My eyes snapped to the PA system in the corner, and I let out a long stream of breath.

It was time.

+++

I held my baton tightly in front of me, shaking from the adrenalin.

I deliberately avoided looking to where I knew my family and friends were sitting when the house lights were turned on.

The applause was almost deafening and completely overwhelming. I held up my arm to the orchestra, diverting the praise of the audience to the players behind me. They had done spectacularly, and once my heart was done exploding from my chest, and I came down off all my nerves, I would be able to adequately comprehend it all.

The applause started quietening down as the Director of Music, Ian, walked out to join me on stage, a handheld microphone in his hand. He kissed my cheek and gave me a warm hug, calling for another round of applause for me that I awkwardly stood through. I recalled our conversation eighteen months ago, where he encouraged me to do this, to challenge myself.

There was a loud whoop from behind me, and I laughed when the horns section was on their feet cheering me from their positions. They were my closest allies in the orchestra and they’d more than earned their stripes tonight. I gave them a little bow and turned back to the front.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our very own Maestro Nina Lawrence,” Ian said into the microphone, smiling through the distinguished term that I definitely hadn't earned yet, “I am sure this is only the beginning of what we will see from you,” He smiled at me.

There were a few more moments on stage before he led me off, the orchestra following close behind me. I sat on the first seat I found in the wings, tilting my feet back onto my heels and dragging my hands through my hair.

“Ni-na!” My name was called out as the players spilled into the green room, a body pressed up next to me, and someone grabbed my arm, “You’re fucking brilliant!”

I smiled up at one of the trumpet players, “Thank you. I feel like I’m about to combust.”

Somebody shouted for a toast, and I watched, completely surprised, by the arrival of trays of flutes of champagne. By the time all the officials and board members had given their own motivational, encouraging addresses, congratulating me and everyone for all their hard work, nearly all my family had snuck in. Friends too were now making faces at me from across the room where they all stood near the door.

When everyone broke apart, I made a beeline for them, asking one of the venue wait staff to follow me with a  tray of drinks. My shoulders hurt by the time I was finished getting hugs from everyone, some tearier than others, my dad the teariest of all. My cousins and my childhood best friends mingling with friends from the orchestra and my life with Harry in a way that overwhelmed me with a sense of belonging to a powerful group of people. Finally, I tucked myself under Rodger’s arm for a touch of respite from the limelight, my back almost touching the wall behind us as he chatted to Laykn and Max.

“None of those sad eyes today, alright?” Rodger turned his head down to the side of my face and spoke under his breath.

“Shhh,” I squeezed his fingers near my shoulder as I took a deep breath and tried to swallow against the tight feeling pressing against my throat, “I’m not sad.”

“Nina,” He chuckled, “You’re inches off looking like you’re attending a funeral.”

“That’s not true!” I argued feebly, chancing a look at him and giving him wide eyes like that might convince him. As Rodger didn’t know me better than almost anybody else.

“It is,” Rodger bit back, smiling at my mother who turned around when my old flatmate failed to whisper quietly enough, she gave us a concerned look but went back to chatting to a friend of our father’s, “And Harry would be so upset if he knew he was ruining this for you,” Rodger’s voice was softer now, “I know this is worse for him. Everyone you love is celebrating with you today, and he’s literally one of the furthest places on earth from you that he could possibly be.”

“It’s not his fault,” I said quietly, looking at my nails and picking at a loose bit of skin I’d been biting all week.

“No, it’s not,” Rodger agreed, resting his head on the crown of my head slowly in warm affection, “But he’s watched you work so hard for this for years, Nina … I know he’d be distraught if he thought you were going to be sad all day because he can’t be here.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “You know it, do you?”

Rodger halted for half a second and then I felt him shrug against me, “He might’ve sent me one of his perfectly punctuated text messages last night instructing me to kick you up the arse if you started looking weepy.”

Something pinched at my heart at Harry’s pro-active concern, “I can’t believe he’d describe me as ‘weepy’,” I huffed, knowing that was precisely the word my boyfriend would use.

“This isn’t about him, this is your night.”

The thing was that my friend was so right about what Harry’s reaction would be to my outwardly missing him today. Harry had lectured me numerous times this week.

When my family and friends followed me back to the conductor’s suite for one more champagne before the celebratory dinner my parents had insisted on organising, I was unable to not still feel disconnected somehow. There was relief though, and an astronomical sense of achievement and satisfaction, and for the first time all day, I felt caught up in the happiness of it all.

The room felt far bigger when I was in here alone before the performance, it was much nicer crammed with my loved ones, all lightly teasing and bullying me. It was loving, and I could read the pride on their faces. I got extra hugs from both my parents and from aunt Anne and my uncle Ted. The cousins and my brother were out in full force—Martin refused to stop filming me and asking mock, documentary-style questions, Josh and Ben didn’t stop trying to make me re-enact walking across the stage. And Oliver was doing impressions of me, waving my baton around and tugging on the lapels of the new suit he got for his tenth birthday.

My dad was holding his phone up taking photos the whole time, managing to wrangle us all together into the groups he wanted. I felt like I’d had an individual photo with everyone a hundred times over.

“It’s the middle of the night in Tokyo,” Laykn draped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side, letting me take a sip of his warm champagne. He knew me well enough to know I had checked my phone a few too many times.

I just wanted to hear from Harry.

“I know,” I sighed, “Sorry.”

“Nah,” My younger brother dismissed, “It’s alright. You miss him, that’s okay. Maybe it means you’ll be nice and let me eat your fries at dinner.”

“Ha, fat chance,” I told him. “And I’m not sure this is a fries kind of place.”

Laykn looked at me playfully down his nose, his fingers darting about pocking his tie back through the gaps in his shirt,  “It’s a rich people’s place, Nina. They’ll make you whatever you want as long as the booking name is under Harry Styles.”

I punched Laykn in the arm, and he laughed loudly, “You’re a jerk. Mum and dad organised dinner.”

“I think Harry pulled some strings,” Laykn teased, “And don’t kid yourself, I’m your favourite jerk,” He amended quickly.

“Yeah, whatever,” I agreed, “I’m going to go find the bathroom,” I whispered right into his ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek before slipping out of the room.

I waited until I was in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet with the lid down before I unlocked my phone again. I checked any of the places communication from Harry might’ve come from, but then when all my email and messaging apps were coming up blank, I had to fight off the disappointment without tearing up.

I knew that it was still essentially nighttime in Japan where he was, but that didn't stop my heart breaking a little at the fact I’d just lived out one of the biggest days in my life while Harry slept. It had been a big day for me, and although I handled days like this a lot better than I might’ve when we were first dating, knowing that Harry was at least awake at the same time was more comforting than I’d care to admit.

After taking a few moments to actually use the facilities, I gave myself one final pep talk in the vast, softly lit mirror before readjusting my dress and mentally preparing myself for what I knew would be a boisterous dinner.

I walked out of the restrooms, flipping my phone over in my hands and concentrating on taking a few deep, filling breaths. The bare concrete walls of the backstage tunnels were marked up with dozens of scrapes and a patchwork of different staging tape. It was chilly too, and I told myself to put my coat on when I got back to everyone, we needed to leave for dinner soon.

“Hey pretty lady," I heard just behind me, my peripheral catching just the slightest movement of someone off the wall.

He smiled when I turned back to face him.

The light glistening in his eyes was the first thing I noticed. But my heart started racing, and my legs were moving before I could really think what was happening, all I knew was that the string connecting my heart to my tear ducts was tugging wildly.

Harry.

He was standing wearing a beautifully tailored pair of high waisted black suit pants, a soft white tee and double-breasted black blazer. I was sure my mouth was hanging open as wide as it felt my heart was busting open in my chest, “Harry!”

"Surprise," He giggled out, bending his neck down slightly when I opened up my arms and reached towards him on my tippy toes, folding my arms up over his shoulders. His arms crossed at the small of my back, and all the air left my lungs when he pulled me against him tightly. “Kept me waiting out here long enough, I didn’t want to make you cry in front of everyone.”

"I hate you," I whined through the shock, but my throat was clogged up with the tears that had already started escaping my eyes. “You’ve been here the whole time? When did you arrive?”

“A few hours beforehand … Tried calling you when we got here though,” He mumbled into my neck, “I was regretting not telling you I was coming because I knew your nerves would be killing you, but you didn’t answer.”

“I knew I’d cry if I spoke to you, I just wanted you here.” “Well, I was here,” He laughed, “And you were fucking phenomenal. I cried like a baby.”

“You’re here!”

Harry's grip on me tightened, and he stood up a little, pulling me with his body, “I am. You look beautiful."

“You haven't seen me in four months," I sniffed, turning my head to press my nose into his neck.

"God, don't I know it," Harry moved his hands up my back and settled them on my shoulders, "Fuck, why do I do this to myself? You're an angel," He pulled back and leaned down to kiss me.

Our lips were hopeless at staying together, even though we hadn’t kissed in months and months. The emotions were catching up with me, and I struggled to settle anywhere between laughing and sniffing back my tears. Harry’s lips turned up into a smile and he pulled my forehead against his, watching through amused, wetted eyes as I tried to keep myself from bawling.

“You’re useless,” He laughed, sniffing away his own emotions when I traced my fingers under his eyes to catch the tears.

“What are you doing here,” I asked, squeezing my eyes shut and moving up again to press my cheek against Harry’s in a desperate attempt to feel closer. “You’re in Japan.”

“I’m not in Japan,” He said softly, “I’m here for you. No one’s as proud of you as I am, Nina, you’ve worked so hard for this.”

“Stop,” I groaned, embarrassed.

“It’s true,” He defended seriously, “You’ve got more talent than anyone I know, and you work harder than everyone else as well. The performance was astounding, you had the whole room captivated. Your work is beautiful and you should be so proud. I’m so proud.”

“Stop,” I interjected.

“It’s true,��� Harry swallowed thickly, “You’re always working towards getting better and being better, and you’re constantly creating something completely brilliant that half the time I don’t understand until you stop and baby it down for me … You’re incredible, and I’m so proud of you, my Maestro.”

I felt myself blush, having heard Harry sprout out that affectionate declaration many times before.

“Did everyone know?” I asked, still holding him tight.

“That I was coming?” His chest moved against mine in a few small chuckles after I nodded against him, “Yeah.”

“All of them?” I thought of my whole family and all my friends sitting waiting for me to return from the bathroom.

“Every last, stinking one,” Harry said in what he thought was an endearing Dennis the Menace impression. I pulled back and smiled as I looked up and watched him continue, “There was no way on earth I wasn’t going to be here for this. No fucking way.”

“Seriously,” I shook my head and swallowed back another lot of tears, “You can’t be here right now, you’re in the middle of tour, and you’ve got shows every—“

“Shhh,” Harry took my lips between his again for a few seconds, “Don’t worry about any of that, you think I wouldn’t move mountains to be here? I’m here.”

I smiled and let the tears escape this time, “I love you.”

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “I love you, too.”

I settled back down into my heels and shook my head, "I can't believe it. This morning I woke up thinking there was still three weeks before I'd see you ... And now ..."

He grinned, "I pulled off the perfect surprise then. C'mon, your brother has been texting me for the last twenty minutes about how hungry he is. Impatient little git, isn't he?"

I rolled my eyes and let Harry arrange our fingers together in a tight hold, ”He's famished apparently.”

Harry’s lips pressed into the hair just above my ear before he stood up straighter and slowly took a step forward. I let him lead me along for a few steps before overwhelming happiness overcame me, and I skipped ahead to tuck myself under his arm snugly.

"I love you, Harry Styles,” I told him quietly, ducking my head when we came to a junction where the greenrooms met the holding room, “Thank you so much for coming.”

There was a small tug on my hand and then Harry stopped walking, looking down at me curiously he tilted his head to one side, “You’re welcome, but I hope you realise coming was less than altruistic of me … I’ve been pretty desperate to see you as well, Neens.”

“‘Cause I’m your favourite person?” I said, grinning when Harry’s thumb dug into my side.

“Damn straight, you are,” He nodded, hooking his hand around my neck and leading my lips up to his.

I shut my eyes and let the kiss be led by Harry. He kept it slow, dragging his lips up to my temple and resting them there for a moment.

“Your family will think I’ve kidnapped you,” Harry said slowly as he wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed once before letting me go again and starting to walk. “And I’m starving as well, let’s go, yeah?”

I latched both my hands over one of Harry’s and manoeuvred us quickly back to where everyone was. There was a room full of happy faces when we finally got there, together, and I shrunk into Harry’s side shyly at the stupid catcalls from them all. Georgie held her phone up recording the moment with the promise of sending me the ‘adorable’ photos later. Laykn muttered something about it being ‘about bloody time', Harry beamed though, kissing me firmly in front of everyone.

+++

It was sweet relief to finally be in the back of a cab pressed neatly beside Harry on the way to dinner. I dropped my head to his shoulder sleepily even though I knew we were only a few blocks from where the Langham was.

Harry quickly greeted the driver and said the name of the street we needed before he turned covered my thigh with his palm and massaged it slowly, “Do you think we should get a pet?”

“A pet?” I asked, completely surprised by what came out of his mouth.

“Yeah.” “That’s what you're thinking about right now?”

“Been thinking about it for a while,” He misheard my tone. “We should get a pet, don’t you think?

“No, I absolutely do not think,” I challenged him, “Pets are so much work, and you go away all the time and what if I want to come to see you? It’d be annoying for us to have a pet.”

Without looking at him I knew the face he was pulling, all wide-eyed and pouted lip, “But imagine having a little furry bundle of love in our lives, Nina. I think you’ve been very flippant in dismissing what could be the best decision we ever make.”

“Harry.”

“I want a puppy, Nina,” He went on, taking a deep breath and racing through his words like that might convince me,  “A little fluffy one that needs help learning to howl and hates walking on the kitchen tiles. A cockapoo, like Rodger and Adriana’s dog. Doesn’t that sound adorable?”

“Harry, we can’t—

“—I said,” He interrupted, “Doesn’t that sound adorable, Nina? With little paws and that look of love, only dogs can give? And when we’re both away Gem can take it, or Josh.”

“Har—

“—Or Laykn! We can send little Pauper to university with your brother for a few days.”

“Pauper?” I gave Harry a look.

“Great name, hey? I’ve been brainstorming.”

“What makes you think I’d let you call our puppy ‘Pauper’. What a stupid name for a dog.”

Harry smiled widely, “Our puppy, eh?”

I paused, realising my mistake, “Shut up.”

He laughed at me and raised his arm up to rest it around me and pull me against his side, “I’m going to win this, I can tell.”

“You’re really not.” “Am too.”

We rode in silence then, the radio playing softly upfront and the streets of London slipping past us in their usual way. Harry was humming along, and when I eventually turned to look back at him, his eyes were already watching me.

“What?” I asked quickly, sitting up and moving out of his arms.

“Love you, you were fucking incredible up there tonight,” He said quietly, leaning his head back against the seat and not changing his relaxed expression in the slightest. His slight smile only created half dimples in his cheeks, and I found myself entranced by the curl of his eyelashes.

I felt my cheeks heat up immediately, “You’ve got that look.”

His eyes widened a little as his fingers snuck across my lap to reach for my hands, “What look is that?”

“The one where you’re secretly imagining me naked,” I said bluntly.

“Ha!” Harry didn’t hide his amusement at all, letting out one loud sound and then falling into an adorable bout of silent laughter, he leant forward and placed a hot kiss to the shell of my ear, “Well, it’s not a secret anymore, is it?”

“Harry!” I smacked him in the chest with my free hand which he quickly grabbed at and held in place.

“The best part is that now you’re imaging me naked,” Harry hummed out lightly.

Before any more could be said, the car was stopping, which had Harry kicking open the door and pulling me out with him. I stood for a second and waited for him to take my hand, leading me up the front steps and straight to the reception of the restaurant.

Inside everyone was already seated, and on their first drinks, I walked around the table and greeted everyone individually. We had a round table in a vast, impeccably styled private dining room. Two seats had been left free for Harry and me, he took the spot next to my dad, and I lowered myself into the place next to my mum.

It was the first time all day I actually felt relaxed. I sat back in my chair and let the pain in my feet ease. The boys were all challenging each other to different meals, making up anything that was in a different language and then convincing Oliver anything foreign would just taste like chicken. Isobel, Georgie and Sam were asking Harry about Japan, listing off a particular liquor they wanted him to bring back for the next time we drank together.

Everyone took far too long deciding what to eat and then even longer actually getting through all the food that arrived. Harry told me he slept through the food on the plane over and was much hungrier than even he knew. I let him take from my plate much to Laykn’s dismay.

“Happy?” My mum leaned over and put her arm around my shoulder for a quick hug, whispering and then watching my reaction with a massive smile on her face.

I pulled Harry, and I’s joined hands over onto my lap like he might disappear if he wasn’t as close as I could get him, “Yeah,” I replied, “Perfect.”

“You look happy,” She observed, “And Harry’s got his dopey face on.”

I laughed and looked back over to my boyfriend who was blushing at something Josh and Martin were teasing him about, “Do you know how long he’s got or …”

When I turned back around to face her, there had been a definite fall in her features, “Nina … He just got here, why don’t you—“

“—I know,” I cut her off, “I know. Harry isn’t meant to be here at all, who cares how long he can stay, right?”

She gave me a small smile and a kiss on my cheek just before I was pulled into defending Harry against whatever he was being attacked for now. Everyone looked happy, though, and I was glad to sit and be taken into whatever conversations I could. It was fun, and it felt almost like it was the holidays, and we all had nothing to do but enjoy each other. I found myself thankful for the occasion in an entirely different way to how I had appreciated it earlier in the day.

Eventually, after an embarrassing dessert experience that involved my receiving a ‘debut cake’, everyone started looking at watches and deciding it was time to end the dinner. Anybody who didn’t live in London had been invited by Harry to stay at our house.

“We’re not going with them,” Harry said to me at the last minute, after the bill was paid and we were all standing out farewelling each other in the foyer.

I looked over at my parents who seemed to already know this information, and everyone else was already loading into Ubers and Cabs.

“We aren’t?”

Harry smiled, “Say goodbye,” He nodded towards my family, and I offered them all a small wave without hiding my confusion.

“Where are we—”

Harry leant down and kissed me quickly, “—I got us a room for the night.”

“Here?” I asked astonished.

He nodded.

My eyes nearly fell out of my head, “Harry! That’s mental! This place is fancy.”

“Yeah,” He changed our positions, so his arm was draped across my shoulders and he started leading me over to the hotel reception, “Well … You’re a gorgeous woman in a beautiful dress, and I ironed this shirt so I’d say we’re pretty fancy. And it’s a celebration … Not to mention the fact we’ve hardly seen each other in four months …”

“Harry,” I warned slowly, feeling myself grow jittery when I saw the glint in his eyes.

He moved his hand down my arm and rested it across the back of my ribcage, fanning out his fingers to reach as high as he could, “I’ve missed you,” Harry whispered in my ear lowly, “And you look bloody stunning, Nina. I didn’t feel much like sharing you with your family at home.”

Home.

That was a concept that I was still getting used to, despite it having been almost a year since I moved all my things in with Harry. Probably because I’d spent most of that time highly stressed about composing, and Harry had been away for so much of it. But still, the fact remained, we lived together now and with that simple fact came a new level of pure intimacy that I relished in. I could only imagine how much better it would feel to have a good chunk of time together there come to the end of the tour for Harry.

“What’re you thinking about? Me naked?” Harry’s voice came right into my ear again.

We were standing at the desk, waiting behind another couple, and Harry moved around to stand tightly behind me, his arm affectionately across my neck.

I looked at him from the side of my eyes, “Just how nice it’ll be to actually live together for an extended period.”

“Hmm,” Harry agreed readily before stepping forward and introducing himself, he turned back to me while we waited for the check-in paperwork, “It will be pleasant.”

“Seriously, how much are you spending on—” I asked, reaching up onto my tippy toes when a piece of paper was placed in front of Harry.

“Oh-oh,” He tutted, plucking it up and shifting, so his back was to me, he smiled at the receptionist, signing his name quickly, “This is perfect, thank you.” She disappeared again, and he turned back to me, I tried not to think about how much whatever extravagant room we were about to stay in would be costing him. Not to mention the cost of him flying out here from Japan in the first place.

I caught a familiar movement over his shoulder and quickly diverted my eyes, “Does it matter if you’re seen here with me?”

Harry frowned, “What do you mean?”

“Someone just took a photo.”

Harry looked back over his shoulder to where I was looking, “Oh,” He turned back to me, “No, it’s okay.”

A keycard was handed over, and Harry profusely thanked the receptionist who pointed us in the direction of the elevators. We walked passed the group where I had seen the photo being taken, Harry gave them a polite little wave with a coolness I know I lacked.

When the doors opened, and we stepped inside, I watched Harry in the mirror as he pressed the for the flood we wanted, “It feels odd not having bags, doesn’t it?”

“Feels sexy,” Harry grinned.

“It feels conspicuous,” I returned.

Harry chuckled, leaning over to kiss my forehead, “I brought some things from home over earlier.”

“Oh.”

“You’re just so cute when you’re worried about silly things, Neens,” He explained.

I was about to rebut when we came to the door for our room. Harry opened it with no hesitation—his years of staying in hotels showing— and he propped open the door for me to walk in ahead of him. I ducked under his arm and hung my evening bag on the back of the door, continuing to where the whole room opened up to an expanse of windows.

My eyes were immediately drawn to the drawing desk by the window. Sitting up in a long, white vase was a dozen white and red roses.

“Harry … What are these?”

“Happy debut,” He said behind me as he pressed his chest to my back and wound his arms around my front, when I looked down he was holding a medium-sized, navy box out in front of me, “This is for you as well.”

I slowly took the box out of his hands and straight away he held them firmly across my stomach. His chin rested on my neck, and he observed as I ran my finger over the engraving on the front.

“Harry Winston,” I read the engraved name, “What on earth—

“Open it,” Harry instructed softly, turning his head to one side to press a kiss to the base of my neck.

The box opened with a satisfying pop sound and it folded out like a flower. Resting in the velvet insert was a beautiful, round pendant necklace.

“Harry, you’re not supposed to get me something.”

“Take out,” He urged, poking the back of my hand with his index finger.

“I don’t want to break it.”

Harry chuckled lightly, “You won’t. Take it out, and we’ll put it on you.”

It turned out that it was quite hard to extract from the box, and in the end, Harry in his own fit of giggles had to pull out the whole lining of the box and work from the underside to get it out. But he managed to get the necklace out and just before he put it on he made me go into the bathroom with him, so I’d be able to see in the mirror.

“Lovely,” He declared once the clasp was secured and the small pendant was resting on my skin. Harry ran his hands down my arms and back up again while I inspected how I looked wearing it.

“It’s absolutely beautiful,” I decided very quickly, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry returned, looking very pleased with himself behind me.

The movement of his hands halted for a moment as he bent down a little to kiss the back of my neck gently. It was a soft kiss that sent something delicious all the way down my spine and the back of my legs. He hummed against my skin, and his fingers trailed up to the zip at the top of my dress, carefully dragging it down to pull the two sides apart carefully.

“We’re going to have to hang this up if I’m going to be doing the walk of shame in it tomorrow,” I told him, referring to my dress.

“My girlfriend doesn’t do walks of shame,” Harry corrected with a growl, his hands slow and deliberate in their movements, “I’ve got something for you to wear tomorrow and pyjamas.”

“You have?” I turned around in his arms and was honestly surprised by him being that prepared.

“I do,” He said in a funny, high pitched voice, “What did you think I meant when I said I brought some things over earlier? It’s moments like these it comes out that you don’t think very much of my gentlemanly ways.”

I moved my arms up to rest over his shoulders and pulled myself up onto my tippy toes, “I’m happy to be proved wrong.”

Harry’s eyes went to my lips then, and I knew there wasn’t going to be much more talking. He pulled me against him and started out the kisses slow and sweet, getting me ready for when the four months of not seeing each other took over, and our hands started moving of their own accord.

It didn’t take long before Harry had me lying on my back on the bed, my dress over the back of the nearest chair and Harry’s nice clothes draped over the top of them. From there it was all hushed words of missing each other, and incomprehensible noises that only made the moment hotter and more dizzying.

After three years so much about sex with Harry was better than I ever could’ve imagined. Because he knew me on so many different levels, the physical connection between us was only heightened. And it grew in me some enormous sense of pride to know I was the only one who got Harry curling his toes together and panting against my skin.

He was all mine, and I got every inch of him to myself.

It was well past one in the morning by the time we were lying side by side, and I was finally reflecting on the day as a whole. My stomach was filled with a warm, settled feeling just having Harry next to me in bed again. Sleeping alone had been something I hated getting used to still. Having another, albeit longer, body beside me I was sure was the best end result I never would’ve dared to dream might happen today.

“What time are you setting it for?”

Harry stopped moving his fingers across his phone screen and turned his head my way, “What?”

I made a point of looking where the clock app was open in front of him, “What time are you setting your alarm for?”

“Neens,” He said sadly, not giving me an answer but only giving me a look that said whatever his response would be I wouldn’t like it.

“Harry, what time?” I asked again, moving my head over to rest against his shoulder for a better look at the screen, “Three a.m.?” I readout.

“Nina—

“—Three in the morning! Harry, what the hell kind of insane time is that? You can’t—

I was cut off by Harry rolling onto his side and forcing me into silence with a kiss, “Don’t get upset, Nina. It’s okay.”

I frowned and watched him as he hovered over me, “You’re leaving in the middle of the night?”

“I can’t stay any longer, I’m sorry. I’ve got an interview I can’t miss before tomorrow night’s show.”

My eyes widened in shock, “You’ve got a show tomorrow … Tonight?” I corrected myself.

“The time difference is a bit funky, but basically, yes.”

It dawned on me then that Harry had only had a day and a half off, that he had jumped on a plane after a matinee and had to be back for a show the following evening. That instead of going out to dinner with the crew and then sleeping until midday like I’m sure he needed, he had flown thirteen hours to London to have not even ten hours on the ground before flying back again.

He wouldn’t even see daylight in the UK.

“Why did you come?” I asked in a small voice, feeling tears welling with the guilt that was settling in. He was going to be exhausted for days from crossing all the time zones.

He let out a horrified laugh, “Why did I come?” He repeated, sounding every bit as defensive as I expected him to be, “I came because today was a huge day for you, and because I could, and because I wanted to.”

“You’re going to get sick from being tired and all the travel.”

“I don’t care,” He shook his head and hooked a leg between mine, “I don’t care.”

I pulled his neck down and held him there until he settled most of his weight on top of me in a tight cuddle, “I don’t want you to go so soon,” I sniffed.

Harry’s hands ran up my sides from my hips, settling under my arms and warming the skin below my breasts, “I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, you idiot, ” I laughed through new tears, “You’re here. You came. You’re too good to me.”

“I love you, Nina Lawrence.”

“I know,” I sighed, containing my emotions slowly.

“I’ll always come when I can.”

“I know.”

++

Well, there’s our intro to Harry & Nina, 3 years later. What did you think? Predictions? 

[inevitablerecursion]

I only have my viewpoint, but if my outlook helps, I will share.

These feelings of social distancing are familiar for me, going through living abroad and then the return culture shock on return home. You all are feeling Culture Shock. Your way of life is now over, and you are learning to adapt. Celebrate every load of laundry completed, and allow yourself to swear in your deepest and most natural language, wherever your home accent is from, for each annoyance that pops up. You will adapt, you will become inventive, you will create a new you. But also remember to mourn.

First, mourn the lifestyle that you had. I hope with the sincerest fiber in my being that causes pressure to build in my nose that this is where your mourning will end. But, for a high fraction of us, our mourning will become specific and personal as those we love and have built a life around will die. This is not a trigger, anything human is mention-able, and anything mention-able is manageable. Thank Mr. Rogers for that.

Mourning for a love one is unique for each individual and experience. I recently had a friend killed in an accident, and I realized that my personal coping mechanism was to assign an alienation to my grief. I would put off understanding my emotions because I did not rate my friendship strong enough, notably in comparison to others, to display grief. I was surprised by that one, and worked through it to actually understand what I was trying to say to myself. And we are all in the situation in which we, unfortunately, will go through many of these questions. I am so sorry that we have arrived here, but we are here. This is reality, and this is a part of being human. Own your mourning, hold it close for awhile. It will never go away, it will always be a ball bouncing around the room, sometimes larger in diameter, and sometimes smaller. Give yourself into grief for a bit, and work to come out of it. It is work. It is a pain in the ass. And help those that you see are grieving and are living in an alien, out-of-body world. You can’t pull them out, but you can just be there.

Second, allow yourself time to get over survivors guilt. But I ask, do not assign yourself any special-ness, but accept that in the randomness of the universe you were or were not infected, and you did survive both outcomes. We are united in this front, one public bodymass, with certain of our cells getting sick, and the whole public body is trying to ward off this infection.

Third, take time to see the future, to imagine life in six months to a year. To the new social order. Take a moment to also laugh at the statement “going back to status quo”. We can’t. That doesn’t exist anymore. There is never going back in history. Things, as they were, concluded. But that is how it always is, if you are reading this on your phone, that is a great example of how small changes progress and change the very fabric of our social organization over time. If you are able, remember twenty years ago. So many changes. This change is more heartwrenching and illusion popping, causing people to pay more attention. We are confronted with something that caused us to invent religions and tell stories around the fire : nature is so much bigger than us, and we will never actually be masters. Allow the illusion to die that we are beyond evolution and the natural world. There is no non-natural world. Everything is nature, from concrete jungles to rain-forests. We tended to like to put a boundary around our little dens and say everything out our doors was outdoors. There is no magic to doors. There is no end to nature. Humans are not in control, we are in conversation. Look to continue this conversation with nature into the future with our benefit in mind.

And when looking to the future, realize that this event is not a break with history, look behind to see where we are going. See the progression, mutation, and ultimately end of capitalism. Because daily, capitalism is winding down. We found out that the means of production were not even there for the most basic supplies. We found out that the public sector has to coordinate massive responses to massive challenges. This event is not brought to you by Amazon, or Walmart, or Google, they are all on the “tech-invention-will-save-lives”, but alas, there are limits to how much we can ask of nature in conversation. Each of their importance has been diminished by our rewriting of our social contract over night. We agreed, we are not willing to endanger the lives of millions to continue our daily normal patterns. We agreed, we are willing to end our careers, our normal income patterns, our buying into the normal structure of daily consumerism to combine and create a resistance against a social threat. Each day we wake, we reaffirm this agreement. The public body gets stronger. The unity increases. By rising each morning with the sun, by asking that those we deem essential continue to build a better tomorrow, the rest of us have time to reevaluate. Entertainment? Do we really want to see multimillionaires sing at us now? Sports? Do we really even care who would win or run fastest now? Politics? Do we need an overwriting mantra or good interpreters of facts? Specialists? Do we need to fund specialized sectors or more broad cross-cutting views that does not see a silo but a field? These are questions moving forward we are each evaluating now that the system has changed. Look to the past, how these were formed, and should we continue this way.

Finally, fourth, be nervous, be uncomfortable, be desperate, and on rare occasion, be excited. But beyond that, be a verb. Be active in this new tomorrow, we all must. We must “be help” in all forms, whether asking for or able to give. We must “be compassionate” in all forms, whether to ourselves or others. We must “be brave”, because this is incredibly hard, and we are not all going to make it. And I am still incredibly emptied that we all will not see tomorrow together.

So, take care, look to tomorrow, and remember.

[rosewilliams1736]

Hey! If you’re looking for prompts, maybe Allura seeing Kima’s underdark scars for the first time? Or Kimallura sparring!

The sight of blood was one that Allura was intimately familiar with; though seeing it on the door handle of her small cottage in Whitestone certainly gave her some pause.It didn’t take much to deduce that said blood was in fact fresh. A cold shock of panic shot down her spin and she threw the door open without hesitation.

“Kima? Kima, are you in here?” Her voice betrayed her fear and came out far weaker than she had intended it to.

Her only response came in the form of a muffled groan.

Allura only managed to take a few steps in the direction of the sound before she stumbled over the chest plate of Kima’s armor and had to steady herself. The brilliant gold and silver of the armor was dulled by a mixture of dirt and blood. Allura’s heart began to beat faster in her chest.

Another groan snapped Allura’s attention back to the task at hand and she continued on down the hallway. She soon found herself staring at Kima, who must have jumped up onto the kitchen counter. She was dressed in only the bottom half of her armor and a breastband. The halfling was sweating profusely while hastily stitching together a gash on her ribs and muffling her own cries of pain by holding a wooden spoon between her teeth.

“Oh Kima,” Allura murmured as she walked over to the halfling.

She stopped a few feet away though as she scanned the exposed area of Kima’s chest and caught sight of the multitude of scars that covered her small form. Allura swallowed thickly.

“Are you alright?”

Kima glanced up at Allura and traced her gaze down to one of her many reminders of the underdark. She quickly tied off her suture and spit out the spoon.

“I’m fine.” She ground out before she took a hearty swig from the bottle of liquor that had been sitting beside her and looking down at the floor.

Allura’s shoulders dropped at Kima’s response. The halfling was known for her negative outbursts, but that didn’t take away any of the sting her words left.

“Kima…” Her voice came out far stronger this time and the halfling looked up to meet her gaze.

Behind the obvious frustration, Allura could see pain and perhaps even a bit of fear on Kima’s face.Kima took another swig from the bottle and hopped off the counter. Whether it be from blood loss, or the alcohol she’d been using to numb her pain, her landing was unsteady and Allura had to catch her in order to keep her on her feet.

Allura fell to her knees in front of Kima, keeping her hands on the halfling’s shoulders to keep her steady.

“Do you need me to summon Pike? I’m sure she’d be more than willing to help heal that wound.”

Kima shook her head. “No, I told you I’m fine. I used up all my healing power at the training arena to help some idiot recruit that thought he could take me. I just sewed up the wound so I wouldn’t get blood on your bed.” Each word that leaves Kima’s mouth comes with less fire and by the end of her explanation she just sounds exhausted.

“You getting blood on our bed is the least of my worries right now Kima.”

Allura faltered slightly when she insinuated that it was ‘their bed’ because yes, it is technically their bed because they both sleep in it, but sleeping is all they do. They are closer now than they have been in fifteen years, and yet they still can’t get back to the point where they once were. In a world where dragons rule the land and every day could be their last, it seems like an inconsequential thought, but she can’t help but have it anyway.

She cleared her throat and continued. “I am more concerned about what is weighing so heavily on your mind.”

“Can we please have this talk tomorrow Allie? I had to deal with a lot of stupid shit today and I’m exhausted.” Kima brought her hands up to rest on top of Allura’s. “I just can’t do this right now okay?”

Allura nodded in understanding before moving a hand up to Kima’s head and ruffling her hair. “Is it okay if I help you get to bed?”

Kima opened her mouth to disagree but was stopped when Allura put up her index finger to silence her. “I am sure that you could probably do it on your own, however, I refuse to sit here and watch you trip over your own armor and get even more hurt than you already are.”

Kima crossed her arms. “Fine.”

Allura gave her a small smile and began steering her toward their bedroom.

***

As it was only mid afternoon when she fell asleep, Kima found herself rousing groggily around midnight. A quick glance at the side of the bed that was opposite hers showed that Allura had yet to go sleep. With a heavy sigh, Kima glanced down at the freshly pink scab on her ribs. It had healed over nicely over the course of her rest, but would still likely leave a mark.

Kima traced her thumb over some of the older and more prominent scars that decorated her abdomen. Most notable where the burn marks left by Thordak and those she’d brought back from the underdark.

A soft knock on the bedroom door drew her attention up and away from herself.

Allura stood watching her from the doorway with an old book tucked under her arm and a weary expression on her face.

“You haven’t slept.” Kima said simply.

“You needed the rest more than I did and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Kima noted the dark circles under Allura’s eyes and knew that they told a different story.

“That is bullshit Allie and you know it.” Kima slid off the bed slowly and stood up. If it weren’t for you and Shaun, this whole town would have been dragon food by now.”

A smile tugged on the corner of Allura’s mouth. “Kima…”

“I’m not wrong.” Kima said, closing the distance between herself and Allura and reached for the hand that was hanging loosely at her side, giving it a slight tug in the direction of the bed. “Will you please just come lie down?”

Allura held her ground. “Will you tell me what was bothering you earlier?”

Kima’s grip involuntarily tightened on Allura’s hand and she dropped it immediately. “Sorry.” She looked up at Allura sheepishly.

“There is no apology necessary. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Kima took a deep breath and walked back over to the bed before taking a seat on the edge.

“You knew about the scars I have from when we travelled together, the ones that I earned, the ones that I’m proud of.” Kima fiddled with the blanket underneath her for a moment. “They have been taken over by these.” She said, gesturing to her midsection. “These are the ones that I had no say in getting, the ones that were forced upon me, the ones that show nothing but weakness.” Kima’s voice broke on the last word.

Allura was infront of her in an instant and on her knees for the second time that night just as fast. “You are many things Lady Kima of Vord, but weak is not among them. I know that you went through hell in the Underdark, that you lost a lot down there, possibly even a part of yourself, but you made it out. You survived it all and came back even stronger. I may be what’s keeping this town safe, but I know that when the time comes, you will be one of the people who saves the world.”

Kima kept her gaze on Allura and bit the inside of her cheek as she pondered what to say next.

“Why do you have to be so damn good with your words Allie?” She grumbled after a beat of silence.

“I was simply telling you the truth Kima.”

Kima let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah, but most people would have tried to pity me or give me some weak apology.”

“And that would have accomplished exactly nothing.” Allura said with a knowing smile.

“It’s annoying to see how well you know me sometimes.” Kima said, feigning offense.

Allura scoffed. “After all this time, I’d hope that I know you at least this well.” She’d barely finished the sentence before she let out a monstrous yawn.

“Come on Allie, let’s get you to bed.”

“I’m alright, there’s still more to discuss.”

“Sure, we can talk about whatever else you want, after you get some sleep. The last thing we need is Whitestone falling because you cast polymorph on Shaun instead of reinforcing the barrier in the morning.”

Allura’s eyes grew heavier at just the thought of sleep. “Are you sure you’ll be alright? We were quite literally opening old wounds just now.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll even lay down with you so you can keep an eye on me before you fall asleep.”

The bed was looking even more appealing with each passing moment. “Alright.”

“You spend all your time taking care of me, it’s time that I start looking out for what you need.”

Kima took the book that Allura had been holding throughout their entire discussion and set it carefully on Allura’s bedside table before helping the taller woman into the bed and tucking her under the covers. She’d barely made it back around to her side of the bed before she heard soft snores coming from the wizard.

[abyss-mal-blog1]

current mind-space//word vomit

it’s amazing how much can change in a few days, but it hasn’t been a week since my finals ended and i already felt so different. i have been doing f45 everyday this week (if not then some kind of workout, but i’ve really been into that recently). i am feeling so much better now without deadlines, sometimes i don’t know if i function better under pressure or not. i guess not, but then it’s amazing how much i can do and achieve under pressure. i need the right amount of pressure, and this semester it has been a little difficult for me to get around that. 

last friday was kinda my last day of finals, i just had an essay to submit, and i am disappointed in myself and my work ethic because i submitted it at 9pm, went to my cousin’s (disappointing) party, and then professor emailed me to say that she cannot read Pages format (seriously smh @ my tardiness!!!), only got back at 1am that night and sent my mediocre essay. i am a little sad about it because i know that is not my 100%. idk why but college so far has just been a series of 80% effort. this paper was an interesting one, on airbnb, on the sharing economy, it’s a performance studies paper where i analyze the hospitality platform in terms of host-user relationship, parasitism and (attempted) to talk about free online labor. it is a little too late now but i kinda want to work on it again and like, submit for feedback. maybe ill ask taylor. 

last saturday was kinda meh, i agreed to go to a *social* kinda event at a bar/club at chelsea, held for Asian-ivy-alumni-people that yanlin invited me too. it was at up&up and honestly a little...i didn’t enjoy it at all. the music sucked, the people were either too dorky or gross or old or weird, and the whole time i just kept saying to myself, “never again”. they said it was open bar but they only served absolut, which was shit. and then my friend’s two friends were...i feel sorry that this was their first clubbing experience. at the beginning my reaction was look at all these ivy alumni! get hitched with one of them for ~da connectsx~ (and nothing else) but no kidding i was actually interested in talking to them just to get to know what people who graduated from ivies are up to, and what are they doing at such events...and are they actually enjoying themselves because it was really kinda gross. met my friend’s friend who seemed like a really smart engineer (he asked for my number the next day lol), and a german dude at the bar who didn’t want to get me a drink. all i needed that night was a drink.....(i’m glad i didn’t drink tho because recently drinking has made me feel all kinds of bad)  we had ramen after at ramen-ya (most probably the worst ramen and charsiew i’ve had but what can we do at 3am and my friend wanted noodle and soup...)

on sunday i KNow i should have left my house earlier to workout but i didn’t. i was angry at myself that i didn’t. instead, i stayed at home and emotion-ate. i must have eaten more green bean soup than my stomach would have liked. what else...avocado? i remember..two bananas? god. this was the day i felt like i was n’s boyfriend because i had to do what she wanted to do. i know i had agreed on going, but at that point i really wanted to go thrifting or something. i mean when i got to central park it was fine and things were good but the whole day just felt like i was kinda pulled into doing something that wasn’t my first choice of plans, not that i didn’t enjoy myself lying under the sun at the park. it just felt like i was accompanying someone. i was half an hour late to meet her as well, and half heartedly got a burrito-wrap at newsbar. if you think about it it is really kinda funny, we’re just buying food and taking the subway to this grass patch 50 blocks away. we didn’t walk much, we literally only stayed at a little grassy slope overlooking the baseball pitch. anyway we went to a dance class after (the class was an hour long but i felt like n had asked me about when and what time we should book the classes for more than an hour by text so i just got really sick of it) i rushed home and got dinner with my uncle who’s in town for my cousin’s graduation. i was surprised that he chose the same japanese restaurant again, after dissing it half a year ago we ate here. the omakase was crazy and it cost 230 per person. (for the most expensive set) it was also kinda dumb because you aren’t allowed to order a different omakase set from anyone else - everyone on the table has to order the same - because of “timing”. i wonder if this is how it is in japanese omakase etiquette, but in any case it really earned them a hefty amount because my uncle decided to get 230 for all of us. qiyang didn’t like and said qiqi had bad taste, hahaha. the food wasn’t bad, i mean it’s japanese fusion, but the prices were way too steep for the taste. anyway enough about the food, during the dinner i think we talked about many things though. i kinda wanted to talk to my uncle individually because i think he is the only one who knows about ah gong, but he was sick, and i could tell he was exhausted. my aunt got a little impatient because i didn’t arrange plans to take their furniture and they were going to throw all of them away and it was actually the first time i’ve seen her get so worked up - but at the same time trying to control her emotions - because she was talking to me. i could tell she was annoyed though but i tried not to take it personally, and arranged it tomorrow. 

arranging the moving stuff was kinda last minute, i was walking to the library for work one day and i saw a truck that said MakeSpace. i assumed it was a kind of moving company and so i looked them up. they seemed to be pretty okay in terms of their services and so i decided to try them out. confirmation and setting up an appointment went pretty smoothly, except for the part where the guy i think his name was joseph, asked me to give my credit card details over the phone. idk why i did that! i stopped though, and asked him why, to which he replied he wanted to key in with the coupon code. this service has so much gimmicks within the first 2-3 minutes on the phone he was already telling me about how the first pick up is free, and that he will deduct 100$ off the first month...when people give you discounts too easily it just feels like a ploy and a thing they give to everyone, it’s not anything special and it’s probably calculated inside whatever we have to pay. anyway, i was just thinking it would be cheaper (assuming the maximum that i would have to pay is ~$500, as i confirmed with them on the phone yesterday), it’d still be cheaper than starting an apartment lease now and going through the trouble of finding two subletters. 

well. idk, it’s also easy to have things all moved in, i have to find a place to store my perishables!

moving is so much work, and storing things. this reminds me of my paper on airbnb and about the digital nomad lifestyle. it is interesting though, that this is what it has become. but the homogenized aesthetic is something i really cannot stand, in airbnb, in coffeeshops around the world..i am sure you know what i’m talking about. a new york times writer did something about this - he termed it “Airspace” - and apparently it originated from Brooklyn. I guess that’s where the art/avant-garde stuff started. well. keep a look out im gonna write a blogpost about that 

moving on 

nat came to sleepover on sunday night and a few days after because the school kicks you out of the dorms you pay so much for right after your final ends. i forgot if we did something fun but i probably just fell asleep. 

on monday i think i went to f45 and did cardio at Dumbo with Gi. he seems like a pretty nice trainer, the first time i went it was him and another girl Bertha (i think my first f45 was last tuesday) and i felt like i had two personal trainers with me - Gi was cheering me on and Bertha was doing it with me. it felt like such a good workout, one of the best ive had in a while. then work, where i arranged the movers stuff. i also realized i bought the wrong date for my flight ticket as my friends and had to buy one more...............

tuesday was the same f45 in the morning, and the bobst after. didn’t really get much work done at bobst. oh i also viewed a 3BR flex at 160. hella expensive and small, and dates didn’t work out anyway. also the broker who brought us to view the apartment was a very nice tall french man and his name was jean-francois which i couldn’t pronounce and asked nat but still called him jean as in jeen instead of john. this is why i have to learn french. you’re embarrassing. i also went to the itp/ima spring show with shubham which was super cool. there were many cool ideas, and i just wonder if i could create something like that. i didn’t get to see all of the exhibits which i regret, but i remember a few notable projects. one was an installation made with keyboards that randomly clicks, but when you hold your phone up it’ll stop. it’s made using 3d gestures. there’s also one at a gallery for surveillance, this team had a thing they call facebox, and it’s literally a box, that when you open it has a webcam that would capture your face, find you on facebook, and print out an invoice/receipt on how much you have earned for this giant tech company.  what else...an AR project that when you scan a food,  it shows you where the food comes from. nat said that she would love it if menus have something they could scan and then have pictures appear in ~holographic~ format, or maybe in the nearer future something on your phone that shows you a picture of the picture of the food. but isn’t it a surprise tho? sometimes the fun’s in the surprise, you read the description, you know what are the foods you’ll eat, leaving room to imagine or be surprised by how the chef puts it together! anyway, went for dinner with nat and jenny - got vegan shwarma (definitely wasn’t worth $14) and went to get crepes with will after. 

wednesday we were gonna go to the dmv but we weren’t prepared. nat also needed to get her passport and she was lazy. wow the number of times i mentioned her, it feels like she’s my boyfriend at this point. talked to famz, sister, and beatrix. am currently considering if i should even go to beijing or just go straight home. fuck. went to bobst for work but no one was there i was just really sleepy. viewed an apartment at 55 morton (it’s a nice quiet residential street that seems to be tucked away from the loud cars and bars and people) then i went to f45 again-varsity!!! cardio!!!, walked across brooklyn bridge (a little regret although i wanted to walk, but my bag was heavy and there were too many tourists to brisk walk) 

also the reason for this is that after my soba/miso/salad/shrimp dinner last night i was just watching a bunch of netflix shows and it was probably the caffeine from puerto rican roasting company - the barista made me a chai cappuccino with almond milk (3 SHOTS!!!)

me and nat couldn’t sleep, i really think i slept for an hour. i watched so many different shows, yoko and john’s documentary, while we were young, anthony bourdain, i was seriously flipping through all the shows and alternating between amazonprme and youtube and netflix and i even tried watching peaceful cuisine and making the brightness lower and had the sleep mode on and wow i just couldn’t sleep

so yeah the birth of this word vomit 

i am going to create more things

[artificialqueens]

When it all gets too much -(Shalaska) by Ty5000

A/N: I Know y’all are waiting for Soccer Punch but I’ve had a really bad few days and I didn’t want to take it out on that universes Sharon and Alaska so instead I wrote this monster oneshot. This is around 5k words which I didn’t event think I was capable of producing in one night but here you go I am really proud of this.

Massive Trigger warnings for eating disorders, depression, suicide and Self harm. It’s pretty dark but I wrote it as a kind of vent/ form of therapy please listen to the triggers and stay safe ily <3

P.S Its 6am and I’ve been writing all night so I proof read the best I could but there may be some mistakes.

Summary : College freshman Alaska suffered with poor mental health in the past and thought that she finally had it all in control until it all gets a little too much .

“Hi, it’s me, I’m just calling to say I won’t make it in today.” Alaska’s voice came out soft and quiet as if she hadn’t spoken all day, well she hadn’t so that made sense.

“Is everything okay sweetheart?” Her boss Kasha replied sounding genuinely concerned for her health.

“Yeah, I’m just not feeling well.” It wasn’t completely a lie she really didn’t feel just not the kind of unwell that you would expect. She wasn’t sure why she was expecting Kasha to believe that though, her boss was incredibly attentive and had made Alaska spill about her past with mental health when she had saw her taking her medication during her first week on the job.

“Okay, Well I’ll ask Courtney to cover your shift tonight it shouldn’t be a problem just let me know if you’ll make it in tomorrow.”

“Thanks Kasha.”

“Take care Alaska.” The older women replied with empathy that she pretended to not hear as she hung up the call. 

Alaska let the phone fall from her hand onto her bed, there was nothing she hated more in the world than letting her mental state get in the way of her life. Since starting at university almost three months ago now she had done her best to stay on top of things and worked through the occasional bad spots more so as a distraction than anything else. She had always known in the back of her mind that going to college would be a lot of pressure and despite the doubts from her parents there was no way she wasn’t going to do it, performing arts was her dream and now that she was steadily on that path nothing was going to stop her.

Well that part wasn’t entirely true as it was 2’Oclock in the afternoon and her Broadway history class was just ending yet here she was curled up in bed the same place she had been since she woke up from a troubled sleep at 5am that morning.

  That’s the thing about depression, the thing that most people don’t necessarily get: A depressive episode doesn’t need to be caused by anything (It can be of course.) but depression is funny like that it doesn’t need some sad event to rear its ugly head in fact often sadness doesn’t make you depressed, depression makes you sad. It makes you so sad that you almost can’t remember ever having felt anything else, and then just when you think you are used to the sadness it stings you deeper and makes you numb. Numb is okay right? numb is better than feeling miserable right? wrong. The numbness is what paralyses you, what drives you insane, leaves you bed ridden and wishing to just feel something.

Alaska had been feeling it for a week now, the beginning stages of a depressive episode. Her first one since… she thought she was in recovery. It had been over a year. Yet here she was again, and she recognised the feeling all too well: the ball of sadness, loneliness and general irritation brewing inside her, but she fought the urge to curl up on her sofa and instead choose to power through. She had too much at stake. Everyday she would wake up, shower, get ready and leave for class, eat her lunch, go to rehearsals, and then head off to work at the diner. Some days her girlfriend Sharon would come in on her way home from work and spend her break with her. They were both so busy during the week with college and jobs, so the hour of each others company was always welcomed. Routine was key, if she stuck to her routine she could beat this, that’s what the doctors had said.

 However yesterday had been the downfall of it all.

  Rehearsals weren’t going well. Half of the dancers were away on a field trip and the lead male was extremely hungover and constantly muddling up his lines. Alaska didn’t have a huge part in this play, as a freshman it was extremely difficult to get a notable part in any of the full class productions. As small as her three-lined part was she was just lucky to have a part at all.  Only she wasn’t feeling lucky at all, they had been in this room for over half the allocated two hours rehearsal time and they weren’t even close to her lines. She was extremely tired having stayed up most of the night to study for her test in music theory which had caused her to sleep in and almost miss the test itself. Come lunch she had discovered that her wallet had been left at home, Alaska really tried not to skip meals after…. But this couldn’t be helped. Now here she was sitting in the old theatre which was cold in the late November weather and seemingly getting nowhere.

 She thanked a god that she didn’t believe in that Wednesdays were her day off and that Sharon Didn’t need to be in work until 12pm on Thursdays meaning she would get to spend some long-overdue time with her girlfriend. Sharon had been so busy since starting her new job working at a popular alternative website keen to make a lasting impression that she didn’t get to see her as much anymore. The selfish part of her liked to awaken her self-doubt and tell her that Sharon didn’t care anymore but Alaska knew better than to let thoughts like that get to her. Sharon had been incredibly lucky to get her foot in the door of her dream job straight out of college and Alaska was happy for her. Really.

Finally, her theatre professor Miss Monsoon let them go, sending them off with a “Good work today people.” That Alaska couldn’t bring herself to believe.

She left the building and walked the ten minutes to her flat in what felt like a record speed beyond excited to be away from the cold for the day and back in the comfort of her own home.

 Once safely back at home, curled up on the sofa under a blanket with a mug of warm tea to heat her up and also to curb off the hunger until she could eat with Sharon she pulled out her phone to text her girlfriend.

To : Noodles (at 5.36pm)

God, I have had the worst day I think the worlds out to get me!

What time are you coming over? I need pizza and cuddles.

She casually flipped through some pizza menus mentally preparing her order as she awaited her response

To: Lasky (at 5:40pm)

I’m sorry Lasky I promised Raja I’d work late tonight, we need to finish that article on some cool new punk band but the research department didn’t bother to fact check so I promised I’d help out. Raincheck?

Alaska sighed deeply, of course the world would be so against her today that she couldn’t even have the one thing she had been looking forward to all day.

To: Noodles (at 5:41pm)

You work too hard ☹

I miss you

To: Lasky (at 5:43pm)

I know

I’ll come to the diner on your break tomorrow okay x

To: Noodles (at 5:44pm)

Okay <3

It wasn’t okay.

Alaska’s eyes burned with tears, she felt stupid for crying over something so trivial, but she couldn’t help it, she had been holding onto this one good thing throughout all the shit she’d dealt with today and now it was gone and with it went any remains of a good mood. Just like that the plug she had firmly pressed down over her feelings for the past week was pulled and a wave of surprised emotions emerged sinking the ship that was Alaska. Once the tears started they didn’t stop, she cried and cried a cocktail of sadness, anger, loneliness ,  exhaustion and stress. Loud aggressive sobs wracked her small frame, her hands reached up to grab her hair pulling tightly as her teeth dug into her lip subduing the urge to scream.

When she finally got herself somewhat under control a good while later her chest was tight and breathing erratic due to her sobbing, her throat and eyes burnt like fire, her head was pounding like a small army was marching on her brain and her bottom lip throbbed angrily from where she had bit down. A stinging in her arm drew her attention down where she discovered angry red scratch marks from where she had subconsciously dug her nails into her skin. It wasn’t by far the worst she had done in the past but staring down at the bright red standing out on top of the white skin already flawed from the past. This is when she realised she was in too deep and she needed someone. She needed Sharon.

To Noodles ( at 7:12pm)

Are you done with work?

Normally Alaska wouldn’t want to bother Sharon with her problems, she always felt that Sharon saw her as a child and found her poor mental health to be an inconvenience more than anything else. She put this down to the fact that she was 18 and could easily be easily seen as a child in the eyes of her 21 year old college graduate girlfriend. Being a freshman who could barely juggle her classes, part time job and social commitments without a daily dose of prescribed medication being seen as immature or too much for her girlfriend to handle was one of biggest insecurities. Sharon however despite appearing to be much more mature with her full-time job right out of college in her chosen field, her own apartment which she had gotten without special circumstances unlike Alaska and a cat was not perfect and had her own problems too. She worried endlessly about the wellbeing of her girlfriend and would never consider her lesser because of her past no matter what Alaska thought. 

       -     -    -

Alaska and Sharon first met the previous December almost a whole year ago at the university open day, Alaska had begged her mom to let her come. Her Mother had been hesitant due to the fact her daughter had just been released from the hospital and was unsure if college was such a good idea in her state, especially one three states over that she wouldn’t be able to get to in an emergency but eventually she gave in agreeing that maybe it’s exactly the distraction she needed.

Alaska had bumped into Sharon within her first half an hour in the building, there she was standing behind the information stall for the GSA with two other people who Alaska would come to know as Danny and Katya not that she really noticed them at first, all she saw was the tall girl with the dyed grey hair and black lipstick wearing the torn misfits shirt.  She remembered how self-conscious she felt in her black skinny jeans and her pink sweater practically falling off her body as she wobbled like a baby deer towards the stall. She remembered their first words, Sharon being as overly confident and bold as normal and Alaska being shy and quiet in a way that must have come across endearing. She remembers getting more freebies from that stall than anyone else. (she knows this because one of the stickers had a phone number scrawled across it.) She remembers the first time they met up and how lovely it was, she remembers the conversation where they agreed that they had to stay just friends at least until she turned eighteen and she remembers finding her closest friend at GSA stall.

She recalls the night about two months later when her sleeve rolled up too far in the car and Sharon caught sight of her scars. That was the night she told her everything. She told her how she felt worthless how the smart kids thought she was dumb and how the theatre kids didn’t think she was good enough, she told her how she would try to starve herself to perfection and how she’d dig a blade into her skin to punish herself and cry herself to sleep almost every night. She told her about that Halloween night when it all got to much and she chased a bottle of pills with a litre of vodka and went for a bath. She remembers crying, she remembers Sharon crying and she remembers feeling proud for the first time as she tells her that she’s getting better and she really believes it.

She remembers her eighteenth birthday a month later how she celebrated the day with her family and a close group of friends but really all she wanted was for the next day to be here when she could spend it with Sharon. She remembers that day so well how she took her ice skating and to a vegan restaurant because she knew high calorie foods still stressed her out. She remembers the ride home and kissing her goodnight.

She remembers getting her first girlfriend and being happy and confident for once, Sharon makes her happy and confident. (not all the time no one is capable of that, but she helps.) She remembers crying down the phone to her girlfriend when she got the acceptance letter. She remembers her girlfriend crying on her at her graduation because she didn’t know what she was doing with her with life. She remembers the road trip back for her own high school graduation. She remembers how she didn’t go to prom instead she spent her prom night with her girlfriend kissing every inch of her and calling her beautiful and making her see stars all night long.

She also remembers their first fight like it was yesterday. It was the week Alaska moved into her apartment a few days after classes had begun and Sharon was constantly on her back trying to help and offering to do practically everything and worst of all, constantly asking her if she had remembered to take her medication that day. To an outsider it’s an innocent question, a nice incentive but to Alaska it was patronising and made her feel like she couldn’t take care of herself. Of course, when she told this to Sharon she had gotten offended and it had ended in a huge fight. It had been loud and quick with both parties failing to see the others valid view. It ended soon enough with Sharon finally realising that she may have been full on and apologising for worrying and assuring Alaska that she knew she could cope. She finished of her apology with one last line before they cuddled up on the sofa to watch The Golden Girls.

“Just remember if it ever gets to be to much I’ll be here, no questions and no judgement.”

And that is how Alaska fell asleep curled in on herself on the sofa with makeup stained checks and her phone in her hand, thoughts of Sharon running through her head.

                                                                   -   -   -

When Alaska jolted awake it was dark out and her mouth was dry, she stumbled blindly into the kitchen for a glass of water, relishing in the brief relief its coolness brought her before moving through the living room, grabbing her phone on her way to the bedroom. Her movements seemed robotic almost working on memory rather than necessity as she whipped of her tear streaked makeup and changed into sweats and a comfortable shirt. She didn’t bother with her usual routine of moisturising or brushing her hair or teeth instead just pulling her hair out of her already messy bun and crawling into the comfort of her bed. Only then did she allow herself to check her phone, the bright screen blinded her momentarily and made her migraine call out in anguish, quickly she turned the brightness all the way down before daring to look again.

The time on the top corner informed her it was almost ten thirty meaning she had been asleep for just over three hours, not that it did anything she was still exhausted. Both mentally and physically.

She pulled down her notification menu to see she had one missed call from her mother (she’ll check that later.) and one text from Sharon. She clicked on quickly eager for a nice distraction from her mind.

To: Lasky  (at 9:43pm)

I told you I was working late, I just got home.

Is everything okay?

Alaska paused there was one of two ways she could reply, and she wasn’t sure which would be worse.

To: Noodles ( at 10:29pm)

No. I’m getting bad again Sharon.

I’m scared, I need you please come over.

Her finger paused over the send button, if she sent that she knew Sharon would worry and come over right away with comforting words and soft touches but part of her, the part that had won the battle earlier told her that Sharon would be laughing at how pathetic she was being. Surely, she could get through this without her, she wasn’t a kid after all.

She deleted the message and started again.

To : Noodles (at 10:31pm)

Everything’s Fine I just miss you.

No, it’s not.

To: Lasky (at 10:32pm)

Are u sure?

To : Noodles (at 10:33pm)

Yeah.

No.

See you tomorrow <3

To: Lasky (at 10:34pm)

See u tomorrow bby

I love you

No, you don’t.

To : Noodles (at 10:35pm)

I love you back .

She locked her phone and placed it on the nightside and rolled into her usual sleeping position, not that she was expecting to get much sleep in this condition.  So, she lay there lonely and let her thoughts take over.

Her brain tortured her all night reminding her of every wrong move, every stupid question, every time she messed up her lines, every rejection email and every failed attempt at friendship through her life. She’s flashed back to the one party she went to in high school where she hadn’t eaten more than a banana in almost 2 days got super drunk super quick and threw up and passed out in the living room of an acquaintance. Absolutely any memory that she wanted to forget resurfaced over the next two hours.

Just when Alaska was beginning to become exhausted and hot tears were burning behind her eyes as she was pleading with her head to just shut up and let her sleep the worst memory was projected to her.  Halloween night 2017.

She still remembers it like it was yesterday. It wasn’t a spontaneous decision made in the climax of a mental breakdown like it’s portrayed in the movies, no this was a carefully planned for and researched event. Let’s be clear by this point Alaska was pretty secure in the fact that she was dying even if she didn’t directly “pull the trigger” herself she was still dying, she was wasting away with each skipped meal but that was too slow, and she couldn’t wait any longer. It wasn’t an emotional decision for her it was just something that had to be done and it should scare her how little she cared about the impending end of her life. She was numb.

The letter had been written almost two weeks in advance, the Pills secured from a source she couldn’t disclose and finally as an extra measure she had stolen a litre of vodka from the local store. She felt no remorse or guilt for that either. She was numb.

She chose Halloween because it was her favourite day, the only day where she felt like she could be anyone without judgment, the only day where she didn’t have to be herself. It made sense to her to go out on the best day rather than on the “worst day of her life.” A nice ending, not that she deserved it.

When the day comes, she takes care of herself, she sleeps in till 10am, later than she’s slept in so long. She changes into a dress that she had meant to wear to the schools Halloween ball that night, Its short black and lacey with hues of green glitter. It was meant to be part of a witch costume, but she much prefers this use.  A glance in the mirror brings her to tears; she looks beautiful, she looks like she’s already dead.  She had planned to indulge in one last meal, a cheese cake she’d picked out herself but decided against it, what if her parents wanted an open casket?

Before she knows it, she’s sitting cross legged on her bed, the bath is already waiting. She lays the pills out in rows and takes them two at a time with a mouthful of vodka in between each until she starts to feel fuzzy, not drunk fuzzy, this was different. She took this as her sign to go to the bathroom. She got in with the rest of the vodka just in case and waited and waited and waited. She had to way to tell how long it had been, but she was sure it was hours, her parents must be due home any moment. Just as panic began to set in and she really began to worry about what exactly she had did wrong her ears began to ring and black spots appeared in her vision.

She doesn’t remember much after that, in fact the next few days are a blur of screaming, crying, pain, needles and doctors. She knows that her mom found her in the bath covered in vomit and called an ambulance.

Once at the hospital they pumped her stomach, gave her various IVs with different things such as medication, fluids, and nutrients that her malnourished body craved. She was placed on suicide watch for a week and was admitted to a physch ward where her “recovery process” began but of course her mind didn’t want to focus on the positives.

               ��                                                 -     -     -

Alaska is brought back to reality then a shaking, crying mess. She’s slick with sweat and her heart is pounding at speeds that should be considered dangerous, it’s the same flashback she’d wake up from in the weeks following her attempt screaming and crying but she hadn’t thought about this in so long and she hadn’t been ready to live through it again.

She sprints to the bathroom as waves of anxious nausea make her dizzy, hardly making it as she spits bile into the toilet bowl. It does act as a cold reminder that she hasn’t eaten today. She briefly remembers her sessions with Doctor Visage who has helped her establish an eating schedule to help keep herself on track, she hadn’t really stuck to that in over a week now.

Once her breathing had returned to normal she manages to get herself a glass of water and a protein bar, which she just manages to finish before she passes out into a dreamless sleep.

                                                                      -      -      -

Which brings us back to where we left off on Thursday Afternoon.

After the guilt of blowing off her shift for a mental health day had worn off slightly Alaska made the mistake of checking her emails. She didn’t have many as she usually stayed on top of them pretty well, but she did have an email from her Broadway History professor sent only a few minutes ago waiting for her. The subject line “you were absent in class today.” Made the details of the email very clear but never the less she opened it.

To: AlaskaThunder5000@gmail.com

From :ProfJinkxMonsoon@univeristy.com

Subject : You were absent in class today

Hi Alaska,

I see that you were absent today, I am sure you had a very good excuse which I would be understanding about had you notified me before hand as per college protocall!

You missed a fair bit today so please get in contact with me as soon as you can.

Prof.J.Monsoon

Alaska closed out the app as soon as she was finished reading and threw her phone onto her bed, she was not in the right frame of mind to be dealing with whatever work load was waiting for her and she didn’t want any added stress she was already on the constant brink of yet another breakdown.

Instead she chose to listen to her body and attempt to make herself some food. She started of slowly easing her sore body our of bed for the first time in over twelve hours. She entered the bathroom and washed her face which felt swollen from all the crying, she made sure to avoid the mirrors as she did this.

“Okay Alaska you’re doing so good, baby steps.” She whispered to herself as she made her way into the kitchen. This was already so much more than she could handle in a normal depressive episode, but she was determined that this wasn’t going to beat her this time.

She opened the cabinet and tried desperately to ignore that voice that yelled out the calorie count for everything she saw. Soup, yes soup was safe she told herself. The next step was to get a pot and turn on the stove. She could do this.

From her bedroom she heard her phone ding with a notification, but it could wait she decided, distractions weren’t a good idea right now.

Once the stove was hot enough she poured the can of soup into the pot and began to stir it. She was doing so well.

Suddenly the phone began to ring startling Alaska from her train of thought and causing her to drop the spoon. And that’s when it happened.

As she was coming back up from picking up the spoon she accidently nudged the edge of the pot causing it to topple over and spill hot soup right onto Alaska’s bare feet.

“Fuck!” She screamed out as the hot liquid burned her skin. She Jumped away from the mess attempting to find a cloth to clean it up.

“Why are there no fucking cloths!” She yelled as her hand reached up to pull at her hair in frustration.

Her phone began to ring again. “Shut up” She suddenly screamed at the object in question. “shut up shut up shut up shut up!” hot tears burned behind her eyes. God why couldn’t she do anything right.

She turned around quickly remembering that there were some clean clothes in the cupboard above the stove, as she did this she slipped on the soup puddle on the floor. She reached out to grab onto something to save herself and slammed her arm down onto the hot stove. She yanked it away almost immediately with a yelp of pain but instead of running to put the burn under running water she pressed her finger against the inflicted area and winced at the searing pain.

Oh no.

Before she knew what she was doing Alaska was pressing her other wrist down onto the hot stove, and again and again and again until she was sobbing and shaking with the pain.

Unable to take anymore and completely mentally exhausted she slid to the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees crying out brokenly.

At this exact moment the door opened.

“Alaska baby?” Sharon’s voice called out from the hallway clear worry evident in her voice. “Are you home? I went by the diner after work like we planned, and Courtney said you called in sick.”

Alaska bit her lip to stifle her sobs as Sharon came closer to the kitchen, it was a fruitless attempt as she would have to find her eventually.

“Alaska?” She called again “You’re worrying me sweetheart.”

Alaska closed her eyes now preparing for the worst as the footsteps reached the edge of the door way. No going back now.

Sharon gasped as she turned the corner into the kitchen, she probably would have screamed if she had been capable of making any noise at the moment instead she stared at the scene in front of her before bouncing into action.

“Lasky, what happened?” She asked kneeling down beside her and reaching out to touch her shoulder.

 Alaska jerked away from Sharon’s touch like it was searing hot, she didn’t deserve this she didn’t deserve to be treated so nice she’d ruined everything. She wanted Sharon to yell to tell her how she’d fucked up and how much of a mess she was but instead the older women just looked at her with sympathy and hurt shinning in her teary eyes. That’s what broke Alaska’s shield. She had cried so much in the last twenty-four hours out of frustration and anger and hurt and exhaustion but this time when the tears started it was an over flow of sadness and of realisation. If she had asked for help last night when she felt herself reach breaking point maybe she wouldn’t be in this position, but she was too scared or too proud and now here she is in the middle of a complete relapse after eleven months and she truly hates herself for that.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” Alaska cried out, she wasn’t sure if she was apologising to Sharon, to herself or just because it felt like the right thing to say in this situation.

“Shh it’s okay, it’s okay.” Sharon whispered almost as if she was too scared to speak any louder and scare her off. She reached out to touch her shoulder again only this time Alaska didn’t shy away and instead collapsed into her touch sobbing uncontrollably. Sharon let her lay on her and rubbed her back for as long as she needed until the sobbing subdued.

Alaska lifted herself from Sharon’s lap, hyper aware of the pain that radiated from almost every part of her body.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” She rasped, her voice hoarse from crying for so long.

“Don’t be, I’m glad I got her before…” Sharon didn’t dare finish her sentence. “You should have told me you were suffering again.”

“I didn’t want to be a burden. You’ve got so much going for you right now and you’re so busy you don’t need a mentally ill kid girl friend too.”

“Hey, no don’t you talk like that.” Sharon began frowning slightly. “I knew exactly what I was getting myself into when we started dating, I always knew this was a possibility, god I hoped it wouldn’t, but I always knew it might and I’d be an asshole if I was willing to throw away the best thing that ever happened to me because she was hurting.” It was Sharon’s turn to cry this time a rare site.

“Do you remember what I said to you after our first fight?” She asked.

Alaska shook her head.

“I said that If it ever got to much again I’d be there.  I meant that then and I mean it now, you got through this before and we  can get you through it again. It’s going to be okay. You are going to be okay.”

                                                                        -     -    -

She was going to be okay.

Not right away because that’s not how these things work, it’s going to take a lot of hard work, a lot of pain and tears and self-discovery but in the end, she’ll be okay. Because if it’s not okay then it’s not the end. 

[lilyharvord]

MERRY CHRISTMAS DARLING!

The last of your presents!!!!! (((: 

A set of 3 One Shots, the first of them coming right after War Storm, in an obviously perfect fanfiction world. (:  

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays darling!!! @thewrraith

 Leaving

 I flinch at the explosion of sound above my head, spilling half my drink in the process. I swear profusely as I shake my hand, spraying the droplets all over the stone of the balcony as I do so. When I look up again, everyone is crowding toward the edge to point up and cheer. Narrowing my eyes at them, I hiss, “Idiots.”

           What do they have to cheer for? They spent half their time here, behind the safety of these walls. A few New Bloods also stare and sneer at the celebrating Silvers. I huff at the crowd and then turn on my heel to quickly enter the ballroom again. A number of other people are standing around inside. Notably, I see Larieta, lounging on her throne of black iron, her deep green dress splayed around her. I wonder if she chose to wear snakes again. I shiver at the prospect, and then feel a distinct change in the air around me as the temperature rises a few degrees.

           “It’s normal cloth, she didn’t want anything to distract from what’s on top of her head.” Cal teases at my shoulder, I jump slightly again at his proximity, spilling more of my drink.

           “Dammit.” I hiss as I wipe the liquid off on my pants this time. He snorts at my comment, and then stepping around to face me, he smirks and says, “I can get you another one you know.”            I glare up at him, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the length of his hair. It’s been so long since I actually looked at him and realized what he looked like. Over the past months we’ve barely seen each other except in passing, and if we do, there are only brushing touches. Fingers brushing hands as we pass each other in the halls, or eyes grazing over the other. Normally, I think I see a flash of relief when he sees me, as if he had been worried that I was gone, or that I was dead. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was because of the latter.

I had had my fair share of close calls these past few months though, and so had he. Two assassination attempts, one foiled because I happened to be in the right place at the right time, another because the idiot who tried to poison him had put it in his own cup and then killed himself right in front of everyone, and a few close shaves on the battle field. One of which had been too close even for my comfort a few weeks ago after our victory at Archeon.

I could remember how Ptolemus had dragged him in, his entire body limp, and his eyes closed. His breathing had been wet, and there had been blood dripping from his mouth.  I’d gotten to them first, and Ptolemus had tried to lay him down softly, but had actually ended up dropping him. Cal had choked in agony and I had grabbed him immediately after, softly laying his head in my lap while I quickly began to undo his armor with shaking fingers, terrified of what wound I would find underneath. It had been stained silver, and I had practically torn the plating off. Eventually, he had let out a soft, wet gasp, and I had felt him slump, and my heart had leaped into overdrive. I had sworn to myself that I wouldn’t care if he lived or died, that it was almost better if the latter happened, but in that moment, I couldn’t bear to think about what would happen if he died in my arms.

So, without thinking, I had shoved my hand under the breast plate of the armor and delivered an electric shock to his whole body. He’d convulsed and had chocked on air as his heart began to beat again. I had to do that three more times before Wren had arrived. He had stayed under her intensive care for the next weeks, and I hadn’t seen him since. I had imagined he would look much better, but it looks as if he hasn’t slept in days.

           “I don’t exactly want another,” I say as I pull my glass away from his reaching hand. He chuckles softly, and pulls his hand back. I glare up at him, and he gives me a soft smile, the one that I fell in love with in Piedmont and even in Archeon when I had first met him, the one that I hadn’t seen in months. “Don’t look at me like that,” I insist as I look away.

           “Like what? I’m not looking at you any special way.” He replies, the smile falling instantly. I glance back at him for a moment and then whisper softly, “Like you always do...”

           “Would you rather I didn’t look at you at all then?” He asks softly, his expression crumbling just slightly. I looked away at those words again. If only he knew the affect he still had, but he had to know or else he wouldn’t be here now. I raise my chin a fraction of an inch and looking straight ahead, I decide to change the subject quickly. “Congratulations, I hear the coronation will be excellent.”

           He snorts and swirling his drink replies, “I don’t know where you heard that. There isn’t going to be a coronation.”

           My head whips around so fast, my entire body jolts, causing more of the drink to spill. But I ignore it as I get a good look at him finally. No armor, no crown, just a man in a suit. I blink for a moment, wondering what changed…what happened to cause this change.

           He sees the question in my eyes and without a moment of hesitation he says, “I handed the entire thing over to Davidson. Norta is his to do with as he sees fit. I was never going to be the king your people need. But maybe…Davidson can be the leader they need.”

           I raise my brow at him and then force a look over my shoulder, a habit I’d gotten into over the past few months. When I’m told sensitive information at all within these walls, I had been taught to look for spies. I see none now though, just people enjoying victory.

           “Does the Samos family know?” My voice is soft, but he still hears it. His expression turns pained for a heartbeat before he replies, “No. I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning though, before dawn.”

           “Where will you go?” I ask, part out of curiosity, part out of hope. Will he go to Montfort? Will he be where I am?

           Shrugging he glances out at the terrace full of Silvers, New Bloods, and Reds alike. “I’m not sure,” he murmurs, “I’m thinking I’ll put the one good skill I have to use and fix broken machines. There’s got to be some town, village or city that needs a mechanic.”

           “Has Davidson offered you a position?”

           “Not exactly, he mentioned that there were no mechanics in a quarter of Montfort, and having one there would be helpful. I might take him up on the offer. But, in all honesty, my first priority is to be as far from this place as possible by the time the Samos family finds out the truth when I’m not there at the treaty signing and Davidson announcing the new terms.” He laughs to himself, and says softly, “Although, I would give an arm and a leg just to see their faces when he tells them that I handed the entire country over to him and signed it over without telling them.”

           I can’t help but smirk at the fact that Volo and his snake of a wife will have been cheated out of the biggest pay off they could have ever dreamed of. My cold demeanor slowly melts as I realize that this might be the last time I see him. Reaching out, I set my hand on his arm and then whisper honestly, “Thank you.”

           He raises his brow at my words but throws his head back and laughs. My face burns at his reaction, and I can’t help but wonder what I said that was so funny. When he finishes laughing, he shakes his head softly and murmurs, “You’ll probably be the only person that tells me that.”

           Without hesitating, I slip into his defenses and press a light kiss on his cheek. “I’m grateful,” I murmur against his skin and feel him stiffen. I pull away before he can reply and giving him a smile I say, “Best of luck to you then Cal.” I haven’t called him that in months. His title had always been cold on my tongue, but saying his name again, it’s like tasting warm tea after standing outside in the ice for weeks. It fills me with warmth, with hope, that maybe someday down the road, we can meet as Mare and Cal again, and not Tiberias Calore the Seventh, and the Little Lightning Girl.

           He nods softly, and whispers the same pleasantry. Outside the fireworks explode in a parade of light and sound. It drowns out the moment when I slowly stand on my toes and go to kiss him. His head turns to the side just slightly though, and my kiss misses his lips and hits the side of him mouth. I open my eyes in surprise and see that he looks just as surprised by my action and his response as I am. He blushes deeply and then whispers, “I should go. I have a lot to pack.”

           I nod tightly, and watch him disappear into the crowd, like the sparkling gold raining down in the night sky outside as he vanishes among the crowd.

 Fracturing

           The nightmares return the moment I return to Montfort. My little apartment is too empty, and too cold. I have no personal items to decorate it, no pictures, and no furniture, spare the bed and the small table in the kitchen with a little rickety chair. I feel more alone than ever before. I spend most of my days in the massive government building at Davidson’s side, helping him and the others slowly mold a continent into a whole country. Like it used to be before the Blood Divide, Davidson tells me with a smile every time I ask.

           He’s more patient than I am though, more patient the other Reds too, who all demand the unification be now. The problem with unification, he says, is that the people who are in power need to want it more than the people, which is where we are stuck.

           It’s been two years now though, and even Davidson’s patience is running thin now. Now that my nightmares are back in full force too, I can barely sleep, and I’m practically a wreck in our meetings. Today was not a good day either, I fell asleep at the little desk I have, and I slept through a meeting. Davidson had felt bad, thinking he was working me into the ground, and ordered that I go back to my apartment for the day and try to get some sleep. I don’t have the heart to tell him that I can’t sleep anymore.

           Instead, of going back to my apartment though, I wander the streets of Montfort. I watch the little children run screaming by me, chasing each other and laughing. I wonder if they know that there are hundreds of thousands of people that died so that they could do that. Ahead of me, the market that is open every other day is busy and loud. I edge into it, using the sound to help muffle my thoughts. I glance in a few carts, and a few men try to sell me bracelets and rings. I brush them off, saying I’m not interested. My coin purse rattles though, and they know it. I hold it close to my side, remembering how once upon a time I used to steal from coin purses like the one I own now. If only my past self could see me now.

           I pause in front of a tavern, my mind reeling, and without a thought I storm in. Its empty at this time of day, but I make my way up to the bar and placing a few tetrarchs on the counter. I demand a full bottle of the strongest spirit they have, my face burning at the coolness of my demand. The man looks at me, takes in my size, and doing a poor job of hiding a laugh, pulls a large bottle down and hands it to me. I take it from him greedily and then storm out the way I came.

           As soon as I’m out in the sunlight again, I feel stupid. I glare down at the bottle and have half a mind to throw it against a wall. A waste, I would never drink all this, and if I did, I would certainly die. Chiding myself for such an idiotic purpose, I almost miss him walk by. I can’t miss that voice though.

           My head snaps up and I see him across the way, carrying a brown bag and laughing as a few of the market kids leap at him and chant something at him. He shoes them away laughing, and tells them to go find their parents. They only seem to cling to him more though, asking him for favors, can he fix their bike that broke yesterday, what about their family’s heater? He promises to try and help all of them, if they come to the shop and tell him the problem so he can write it down.

           He dressed in simple street clothes, and I blink in surprise at that. His hair is short again, but he’s not clean shaven. In fact, it startles me how much he looks like his a much younger version of the man his father had been. He’s the same other than that though. That same bright smile and bright eyes that don’t see that the kids are just pestering him for fun.

           Eventually, he manages to shake them and hurries down the street. People don’t really pay him mind, but a few of them wave to him and he waves back. My skin crawls with surprise at the simplicity of the gesture and without another thought, I start to trail him.

           He’s easy to follow, like he’s always been. My steps are as light as they used to be, and I trail after him like a cat would a mouse. He leads me down a few streets, before making his way down a dead end street. He sets his bag down and then grabs the bottom of the metal door and with a grunt heaves it up. Inside I can see a machine and parts scattered all over the floor. I stand at the other end of the street watching as he whistles softly and picks his back up before entering the yawning space. He sets the bag down and then clicks a light on. I feel the hum of electricity from here, and watch as he shrugs his jacket off and reveals an oil and grease stained shirt.

           I hesitantly make my way toward him. I feel like a ghost that is about to intrude upon him. I’m a phantom now, something that would only dig up horrible memories for him. I wonder if I should even approach.

           He turns his back to me and rolling up his sleeves, he bends down and drags a box of tools toward him before digging through it. When he finds what he’s looking for, he bends over the machine and starts to work. I watch him for a few moments, before slowly edging closer. Does he know I’m here? Can he feel my presence? I can feel every nerve in his body, branching like lightning under his skin. It has always fascinated me how like a storm people are, with hundreds of millions of little lightning strikes happening within their body at one time, without them knowing.

           “Are you going to keep standing there and staring, or are you going to come in Mare?”

I tense in surprise at the laughter in his voice. Edging slowly into the shadow of his space, I whisper, “I didn’t want to startle you.”

“I knew you were following me the whole time.” He says with a smile before glancing up at me. His face is so soft, his eyes so gentle. I blink and then blurt out, “You look like your father.”

He looks at taken aback as I thought he would. Standing up to his full height, he runs a hand stained with oil through his hair before wiping off the cover of the machine and looking at his reflection in it. He scratches the beard for a moment and then says, “I suppose I do…I haven’t really thought about…”

“I’m sorry for bringing it up.” I interrupt as I hug my bottle of alcohol close to my chest. He looks over at me again and spots the bottle. Raising a brow, he asks, “Day drinking now Mare?”

“I can’t sleep at night, this helps.” I murmur. He sighs and then slowly bends over the machine again. “I know. My father used to say that.”

My stomach clenches at the idea of being compared to his father. He doesn’t say anything else for a few more seconds. Eventually he sets the tool down and looking at me he murmurs, “Do you want a partner to help you finish that?”

I glanced at the bottle, before looking up and nodding in conformation.

(////)

He has a small terrace above the garage that he owns. He bought this small apartment and garage with the money he had taken with him. He’d sold all his possessions and had moved in here and had been fixing cars and machines for two years now. He mostly stays off the radar, and no one really questions him. As long as he does his job and fixes everything. He tells me all this with an abandon while we both drink from two small glasses that he brought out.

I laugh for the first time in what feels like months. And we swap stories about our lives now. It takes until the bottle is only a fourth of the way full for me to tell him the truth.

I had been watching him for a few seconds, watching the way the late afternoon sun cuts across his face and his eyes. I had always loved how the sun could make his eyes into raging light. I inhale softly and then whisper, “You haven’t changed at all.”

He raises his brow at my words and then setting his half empty glass down he says, “You have though. I can see it.” He tilts his head to the side before reaching across the small table and brushing his knuckle against my cheek. I watch his eyes the whole time though. His expression is pained as he whispers, “I’m just a fractured as you, I feel like I’m cracking a little more every day.”

“I feel like I can’t put myself back together.” I reply in an equally soft tone. He stands then, and crosses the table to me. I watch his movements, and when he’s in front of me, he slowly cups my face and lowers his face to mine. His forehead rests against mine and I inhale slowly as I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck. He traces my temple with the tip of his nose and then brushes his lips over mine. I turn my head and complete the kiss. He pulls away slightly though and whispers against my cheek, “We shouldn’t, we’ll just hurt each other. We have a habit of doing that.”

“We can’t hurt each other anymore than we already have.” I urge, and he seems to accept the words, because his next kiss is less tentative.

Healing

       It takes a few weeks for me to memorize the way from my apartment to his garage, but I do it. It gets easier to find my way there the more times I visit. His bed is always warm too, just like I remember it always being. He’s gentle, like he always was. His kisses are like embers, and they leave my skin burning with need.

Even today, when its freezing with the first snow, it’s warm in his bed. I roll to face him, after laying with my back up against him for hours, absorbing all that warmth. His eyes are closed and his breathing is deep with sleep. I reach up and slowly trace the backs of my fingers down his cheek. He shifts in his sleep and mumbles something. I smile softly at that, remembering how he used to snap awake at the slightest movement on my part, when we had once shared a bed in a soldier barrack in Piedmont.  Now, it seems like he could sleep through a bomb going off.

His eyes flicker open and in his sleepy state his eyes look like melting ore. I trace his jaw again and he smiles softly before murmuring, “I was enjoying my nap.”

“Sorry,” I whisper, knowing that we’re both only half serious. He smirks, and closes his eyes again before sliding his hand around my hips and pulling me closer so that we’re sharing the same air. I brush my lips against his cheek, and whisper, “I’ll let you nap again.”

He expels a long breath and squeezing me tighter he says, “Well I’m awake now, so there’s no use.”

I laugh softly as I crane my neck to look up at him. I wiggle my arm from between us and reach up to cup his cheek. Softly caressing his cheek with my thumb I murmur, “I liked it when you’re clean shaven.”

Chuckling at my comment he turns his head and presses a kiss into the palm of my hand. When he turns his head to look at me again he says, “You seem happier more often these days.”

I shrug softly, not sure if it’s because of him, or because we’re finally making progress on unifying the country. I want to say it is the latter, but when I’m lying in his bed, I don’t have nightmares. Like in the Notch, he seems to have an impossible ability to chase my fears away, even in sleep. I never realized how much I missed it until now.

“I guess I’m healing now.” I whisper to him, as I close my eyes and bury my head in the crook of his shoulder. Craning my neck again, I press a soft kiss underneath his jaw. I can smell the eucalyptus shaving cream he used last night right before bed, and underneath that, the same dark scent of wood burning. He smells like autumn, and like home.

Dipping his head, he presses a kiss near my ear and murmurs, “Me too.”

 THE END 

[priorreverte]

asphodelroot:

Odd Places to Meet Old Friends | STRIPPER AU

@notlibatiusborage Location: The Club

“LILY.” A breathless, ragged gasp paired with a dramatic flinging of herself in front Lily’s notes had to be highly overly dramatic for whatever bit of information Ellie was about to impart, no matter how much excitement was glittering in the girl’s eyes. Perhaps she’d lost her mind in one of her gothic classics again; an idea that seemed to be confirmed as she hissed, “I’ve found him!”

“Who?” Lily asked obligingly as she tried to rescue her notes before Ellie shredded them in her enthusiasm. “Whom,” Ellie correct, making Lily twitch, before barging on, “and mixologyprince!” “Oh,” was Lily’s bland reply, pushing an elbow off her notebook. Obviously much less encouraging a response than Ellie was hoping for, as her eyes were wide and pleading when Lily glanced up to her. Sighing, she resigned herself to the conversation. Capping her pen, she leaned back in her seat and pulled her mind away from particle scattering and on to Ellie’s fascinating discovery.

“Mixologyprince— the Instagram guy? I thought he was anonymous.” Ellie had complained about it often enough, that he didn’t advertise where he worked or where people could get the admittedly delicious drinks he posted. People didn’t seem to know his name, where he was located, or anything beyond slim details that could be gleaned from the pictures of the drinks he posted. Lily was still lagging being Ellie’s expectations of involvement, for the girl rolled her eyes. “He does, but call me Ellie Holmes, because I’ve discovered where he works. See, my brother went to his best friend’s stag party, and they ended up at this strip club and look.”

Lily blinked and gently gripped Ellie’s wrist, moving it back so she could actually see what was on the phone screen that had been suddenly shoved in her face. “That… is your brother,” she said, blandly mixing confusion and attempted helpfulness. For her efforts, Ellie scoffed, pulling the phone back long enough to zoom in the picture before showing Lily again. “Look at the lights, Lily! Behind the bar. It’s a very distinctive set up, you have to admit, and I recognize it.” Another flick of her wrist and a different photo popped up; even Lily could recognize it as one of mixologyprince’s posts, the drink looking very delicious for the second she glimpsed it before Ellie zoomed in on the background. “It’s the same,” she hissed, in case Lily was still being such a dullard as to not be able to put that together on her own.

“So, your mixology idol works at a stripclub?” Lily said, still unsure what Ellie wanted from her. For her part, Ellie was beaming as she said, “Yes, and you have to come with me because I don’t want to go to a stripclub alone,” those wide eyes melting into earnest pleading that only the utmost heartless prude would be able to say no to.

Which is how Lily wound up at a strip club on a Thursday evening. It seemed a reasonably classy place, as far as these things went in her non-existent experience. Her eyes were dutifully caught by the performer on stage before she slide them quickly away, the pangs of a conservative upbringing in dead in Yorkshire making her flush even as tried to argue rationality and modern freedom towards sex and bodies. Ellie seemed to be having no such internal conflict, already half way across the room, beelining for the bar. By the time Lily had caught up to her, she was already deep in high speed, prattling gush over the bartender and his artistic mastery. “—promise I won’t tell anyone else, but I’m really hoping you’ll make me a drink and something for my friend, too. Lily, what would you want?” Ellie asked, finally taking a breath.

Lily, still trying to take in her surroundings while battling that deeply awkward feeling and embarrassment for her friend’s over enthusiasm, hummed. “I’m not sure, what would you—” She broke off as she turned her attention to the poor bartender. Her mouth felt suddenly dry, and mortification was rising fast in a flush that felt like it might burn her up from the inside out.

“Oh. Hello Sev.”

Every other week on Thursdays he had labs all day, which meant while he was in the lab and looking at the equipment, he was thinking about how he could use the more interesting glassware to present cocktails, and looking forward to a possible evening meal of leftovers from Tilden’s menu of the day. He also tended to go easy on the caffeine, knowing that he’d be drinking something called Primary-Colour Predatory-Animal just before his shift at Studio 9 ¾.

And today’s labs had been fairly standard. A series of reactions to go through and then a write up with the various mechanisms and printing off the results of his tests. He’d have most of it done before the shift and could finish the rest off tomorrow morning during the Organic Chemistry lecture.

So when he balled up his labcoat and safety glasses into his locker, he headed straight to the club and got stuck in. It wasn’t as bad as Saturday or Friday night yet, but there was still enough drinks being ordered that he couldn’t take it slowly and sneak around to the kitchen. He preferred having something to do though. It kept him from paying too much attention to the dancers.

The lack of any large parties tonight also helped his mood and while it wasn’t exactly service with a smile, it at least wasn’t service with a scowl. Until a girl about his age was practically leaning over the counter to excitedly tell him that she had figured him out and, he assumed, was now blackmailing him for a cocktail. He was just about to open his mouth to lie and protest his innocence- claim he didn’t even know what Instagram was if he had to, when he glanced at the friend who had come with the fan. His scowl stayed in place, but his thin lips parted, twisting the expression from displeasure into surprise.

Shit. It was her. Lily Lily. Lily Evans Lily. Lily from Cokeworth from happier days and notably from Severus Snape’s biggest fuck-up to date.

“Uh..” He had to recalibrate before responding. “Lily. I uh..I am. I’m him, I mean, but-” the scowl returned as he turned it on the companion, the new friend,“ don’t go spreading it around.” He glanced back at Lily and found he suddenly had to wipe his hands on the small bar towel, trying not to pay attention to the warring joy and fear and guilt rising up like bile in his stomach and churning around the earlier can of Green Shark EZTREME ENERGY “What kind of drink were you hoping for?” If they’d seen his posts, and he knew Lily had because he had a screenshot of her commenting on one of his posts ages ago. “Fruity or.. Ah..”

[ladyaiyanna]

The Virtual World - The Scary Truth of that Lawless Tomorrow - A True Insight from Experience

I never quite bargained for writing out here as I found my level of comfort on Facebook until the day the Hackers came and turned my world upside down in hope to blame it on the Corona Virus aka Covid19.

While I am a person who takes things as it comes, I learned the truth of what hacking is and how they victimise a person in order to draw them in impoverished living and poverty and all for the crime of wanting to remain reclusive and aloof, comfortable with myself.

I was always pressured by many a loafer with their badge below the belt about the boons of being a beneficial friend devoid of other favours and I used to politely listen and decline as I was no stranger to working with people, men especially till 2am in the morning and trudging home after that to get ready for the next day at work starting around 8am.

Being the kind of job that I do, my interaction with people is limited to many on set with my personal time being just mine alone to spend with my One Above, family, life and dreams creating lyrical artwork based on everyday living and life’s expressions including emotions etc.

I never entered into agreement with anyone to provide them information and details of my living and let alone cringe myself with my life put on hold to such an extent that it has driven me into poverty living me impoverished. I made a choice in 2017-18 to tell one such person, I am returned back to the way I used to be as all that has been wasn’t ME as I dislike my anger and temper and the way I am becoming and they took it as I was a mediocre who was never fruitful in this world for anything else apart from talking to the selfish famed married them about my personal beliefs.

It was right then and there that I should have been cautious with this person who came to be the nemisis of my past marital agreement that still stands and what’s more the ill-treatment they created was way more greater and bigger than what has been within my marriage. I was never pushed and shoved this way by way of hurt, humiliation and pain beyond my mortal tolerance levels that I was forced to relive the pain and anger of their undue interference in my family life to the extent they took everything from me including my matrimony by way of sleeping with other who used that person to destroy my homefront including bring catastrophe and pain within to the extent I learned it is the way of life where nothing ever comes easily for me unless I shout, scream and abuse quite literally to get my way.

While I am never this way in my personal life, I have learned it is the only way I saw things happening until this hacking took place on the 30th of March 2020 and realised how ill-equipped I had become in my life and dreams with all my equipment broken or in repair as I couldn’t care less because my financial woes thanks to being jobless for about 15 months in the corporate world as Creative Work is considered to be a hobby in a country like New Zealand who had a row with me for putting in a GST Claim for my musical rendition shortly after it was released and was getting ready to venture into new possibilities of waking commericalisation of the same via short films and musical studio recordings. It never materialised as I fell ill from the shock and it took me nearly two years to recover only to be thrown into it again as these bullshitting idiots think all this is a needless waste of time rather than an income generator wherein they gaily listen to overseas music but abhor the local names because they are not as talented as the overseas one.

Wrong!!!! I learned to respect my fellow local artists whom I have seen struggle and cry within the acting and musical world because of the law of economics which defy the minimum wage and many an unwilling creative artist refusing to pay the price for quality enhancements and works for prolific acclaim.

In 2017-18, I was giving up being a recording artist because of the nonsense created by the IRD and my music producers and their label friends who humiliated me for being me because of certain indecencies I refused to partake with them whilst virtually complying to their musical request with me as I changed their building block material into a real musical rendition devoid of copywright issues as I created all material with the producers from scratch and got my copywright certificates from overseas which included endorsing my name as an artist which is also my stage name in the film world. None the less, I had friends, most certainly not the satanists from the Illuminati sect, converse with me, in the good old days when I could on Facebook, before this so to say friend made my life very unbearable in reality as well as online, to get back into the recording studio again and I did. It is what brought about my recording When Angels Cry with another producer in a style that I was quite fimiliarised with from my past rather than the turn of the millennium kind of tune.

It was where my troubles began as there was an affiliation to a group of people who sat around me at the workplace who got to know about this recording, which I had kept secret to segregate my creative life from the corporate world only to find somebody got a hold of my pre-released material and cried me at work to the extent, I lost my health and destroyed my job by way of a redundancy. I was never to work again the corporates but for the same hurt that plagued many an artist and producer around, the lack of recognition of local creative work which has fetched many an accolade in the international film industry and many notable works that I have personally partaken as a small time work of art creating features for them.

I love the world of creativity and have worked hard to build my name and reputation around and only to find these dreams shattered by one single mindless twit who began their insane lustful longing of wanting to be ME and pursing my family and life to the extent they posed as a lover to them too with other company and pursued me from within, hurt my family members including my child and drove me to the verge of bankruptcy since September till date with hardly any work coming in and no one willing to take heed with what is happening.

I have been working with the cops since July last year and things came to pass in December when my family broke away from me and didn’t talk right down till the 28th of March when they spoke for the first time. I was angered, hurt, wound and not to say humiliated to the extent I came to be abusive and correcting the negative feelings was never given to my child by me to the extent I am still mending that relationship as they drove my child not to talk with me since November last year.

I never came back to cry and whinge to the world, just came back to clarify the hurt and pain that I was put through by these people who brought similarities of the words and conversations from three of my family members including anger and humiliation to the extent it led me to believe that this was the underlying cause behind what had happened to my account as this person was a proficient hacker and made no silence about it although the name was withheld from me because I grew abusive with them.

While I am never going to clue much of my life again, it is the main reason why I took it to the cops who never quite took it as a cry for help and chose to condemn my asking the law for help to the extent I did give a hinting of what I was looking at because of the way I had been pursued by them to the police and nearly drove myself to the other side of it post that police conversation which refused to acknowledge there was an issue when I clued them I was logged off, there was no curiosity or willingness to pursue the case in a way I had seen in the month of July upon speaking to a police officer with an American accent who clued he was look in to see what could be done and rendered my account safe back then.

I have never felt so let down by New Zealand as a country who as an unmarried premier head who projects herself as God the mother of life without cluing her behind the scenes hinting the truth of what is happening around is all at her behest. I noted the silent threats from the past but I never quite brought myself to accept the negative truths of the bewilderment it held for me in the future, although I did keep away from bringing my true opinions and views out.

Now I am faced with this prospect of Wait Horse, I’ll give you Grass including the fact that I may need to use my social networking accounts as part of employment rather than social interaction, it hurts me beyond belief that these vultures believe their deluded carrion as they call it is waiting to clue a suspecting predator of a hot date that can be virtually captured on variations of likes and poetry and lifestyle and clothing to bring about an aspect of their paving a way of Continual Income that is not a hobby as Creative artwork is a hobby in this land with many an artist getting brought to payment below minimum pay after filling the fattened tax coffers that virtually implore large business to expand and expend smaller ones like myself as they have better monetary capacity.

I was insinuated and insulted about my bank balance, which no one knew of but my eyes and the virtual authorities of governance and on social networking too. I learned my way of life from all this and learned I had to live with this glass house syndrome as that is what the beautiful natural world of life in New Zealand brings to you as part of their social security procedure of keeping crime levels down while making law abiding people like myself think of social creativity from the other side of the law as suggested by the cops in their silent humility to justice of the law rather than the people they are trying to help.

While I am still playing the waiting game, with an hour and half call recording given to the cops with utmost sickening politeness which reached the end of the tether towards the end stemming a hang up because of the obstinate donkey on the side, I have actually come clean to the world saying I have given thought to the other side of the law thanks to the nonchalance of the cops who were quick to support previous criminals who drove me up the world back in the day to the point of alluding suicide and finding a ride in a squad car to this attitude from them showing they don’t quite care about life, love, family, livelihood etc. because for them social networking is all about Bumble, Tinder, screwing and being an absolute ass in the virtual world not in a business perspective or acumen to the extent that I feel so hurt, shattered and humiliated for being a certified eCommerce Programmer who is relearning programming to work on my own, a Sun Certified Java Programmer who when to be a Project Manager using ITIL and Infrastructure and Firewalls to Customer Management and other derivatives of it in the world of life to create a living.

With today’s lockdown being a proof that life is heading for a digital discourse and virtual reality kind of living, one can only dream of the haven we are creating for cybercrack artists of criminology who see this as a blossoming industry for impersonation, get easy peezy money without slogging and convert it into Bit Coin and speed away to a neighbouring land to create a dream come true living lifestyle without being ever caught for their crime.

It is no wonder the physical crime graphics are fading into cyberland tactics of livelihood as the cops don’t care as they don’t see no money being robbed in their eyes despite dropping them all the clues. Well I thank my stars I have a listening ear with an ardent hand to help another if I can on the correct side of the law but hate to think what a person who is less patient than me is put through the exact similar would do. probably gun them all down, like in the USA and then clue get a few criminal hackers and we will make a living like we did back in the day on the other side of the law.

Well that is my experience with a female New Zealand Cop for you who was too busy baring her teeth with the blaring sirens behind her to even pay attention to the quest of her livelihood which borders on creating security to the public. It didn’t help it was the 1st of April 2020 around time for the belly grub.

Not that they cared I was a former victim of domestic violence and that he worked within servers, networks too with an ex colleague who was documented for indecent assault by yours truly with experience in network and firewalls creation and removal for the telecommunication world of New Zealand. Well the complaint is made virtually as asked by them, made with the United States too and they don’t give a toss as the Right of Equality all in the name of the Lord prevails to the magnitude that lawlessness is just the parallel road to success given in encouragement by the NZ cops themselves as the right thing to do for they have no more time to care as they all film stars now, making COVID19 ads and chomping with mouthful of food giving advice to the world while crime rates around soar showing the change of priorities in everyday living.

So is it safe to say this is the world of Diplomatic Relationships (with the Prime Minister giving consent for backyard real marriages as part of social distancing as a Holy Saturday Gift of the Flesh making word around) using the flags of the Reds in Power, Blue in Game, The Greens and Greys still waving showing the Black, Red, White flag combo made it to the top with an unwed mother showing the thumbs down to law and justice as she is God the Mother of all Nature and life around in New Zealand saying High 5 it’s Beehive calling Level 4 to the rest of the Honey Suckle World around.

I want my Facebook account back, if you don’t have a Credible Cyber Team, point me in the direction to the people who can train me in the skill and I will learn it and become the Cry that others can benefit from without being hacked, broken and made to think of crime as a real prospect of law being given the shrug on shoulder as the sign of the new virtual tomorrow.

By Anisha Achankunju (C) Lady Aiyanna 14th April 2020

[always5hineee]

Profit Margin- Chapter 8: Cage the Elephant

Chapter warnings: Mild language and mild themes

Word count: 1581  

-----

       When the doors revealed the room behind them, she was actually quite surprised. Of course, she was expecting it to be elegant to an extent, but it was particularly... well, different. Rather than red carpets and mahogany finish, everything was very modern. The floor was black tiles, which matched with most of the furniture. All the sleek surfaces, most notably the desk, were this same tile-esque texture, while the chairs were a more velvety black with silver accents and support.

       There were blackout curtains on the window, although they were drawn back to allow light into the room. She would have tried to look out and see where they were, but the windows were clearly blinded. Still, based on the color of the light, it may have been close to midday, although she couldn't tell if it was morning or afternoon. It felt a bit weird to be so dressed up in the middle of the day, but there wasn't much she could do about it.

       There were a few black doors on each side of the room, although it was unclear if they were Kun's private rooms, storage, passages, or holding cells. Honestly, they could be anything. Kun and another man were conversing at the back of the space near the main desk, and it was only as he saw her and gestured to the others that she realized just how many people were in the room.

       Xiaojun and YangYang appeared from the corners, moving to shut the curtains and send the room into darkness. Hendery appeared behind her and Lucas, startling her as he slammed the deadbolt shut.

       "Hey, honey." He muttered, passing her with a smirk. "Love the dress." She felt something brush the back of her leg, and she chose to ignore it as disgust rose in her throat. "Put on a good show, okay?" Lucas obviously heard him, but chose to do nothing. She didn't know if he chose to out of respect or necessity, but nonetheless, it rubbed her the wrong way. At this, she began to see some new faces as well.

       Lurking a few feet behind Kun was a thinner man, slightly shorter than the leader, clearly not any sort of client. The most unsettling thing about him were the two giant automatic weapons on his hips. Who was it? Some sort of grunt? No, that didn't make sense. Then... Before she could figure it out, though, Lucas reached behind her to mess with a dial on the wall. With that, the lights on the ceiling shifted on, providing a soft, warm light. It was then that she saw the mystery man's face.

       Ten. Ten from WayV. Yet another one of her idols, perfect image shattered in her mind. He was carrying guns, and she assumed that he knew how to use them. Would there be no end to this? The only one she hadn't seen yet was... was WinWin. Please don't let him be involved... She practically prayed. If there could only be one at this point, she'd be happy. Please...

       "Let's get started." Kun spoke out, voice achingly familiar and yet completely foreign to her. He had not made eye contact with her since she arrived. Maybe he thought he was above it. Surprisingly, they didn't stay in the current room, but rather she was led by Lucas into one of the adjoining doors. The lighting matched the open room, indicating that they were connected. There were no windows, and a small auditorium's worth of seats- maybe fifty? At the front of all of it, there was a very short black stage- a glorified stair, if anything. Lucas brought her in, leading her to the front and up onto the step, leaning down to mutter in her ear.

       "Are you going to stay up here, or do we have to restrain you?" She didn't know whether it was meant to be threatening or just come off that way, but she shook her head quickly.

       "I'll stay." He nodded as if to tell her that she made the right decision. And with that, the man left her in the light, alone. She hadn't realized just how good a job his large frame had been doing of providing her a sick sense of comfort. Now, she had no shield, no body beside her. He took a seat in the second row, along with Xiaojun and YangYang. Ten and Hendery sat to Kun's left in the front row, the client to the right. He was dressed in a simple black tuxedo, hat, and shades, clearly trying to mask his identity. That being said, she could tell he was older, maybe mid forties or fifties.

       "She's quite submissive." The man commented, noting the lack of chains or ropes. "Or at least easily manipulated. That's generally good in such a purchase." This remark caused a flare of anger in her chest. Who was he to judge her character so quickly? She wanted to call back, but her eyes shifted to Lucas. He was giving her a warning stare. Gritting her teeth, she held her tongue.

       "She's quite young, although not suspiciously so." Kun began explaining. "Her birth name is Y/N. You are obviously free to change it, and we do recommend it for safety reasons. I'll remind you of your non-disclosure agreement and the consequences if you put our business in jeopardy." The man seemed to clearly understand this. "The rest is clear, as she's standing in front of you. I trust height, race, figure, and etcetera are all to your approval?" The man stood, gesturing forward.

       "May I?"

       "Of course." She shrank back as both Kun and the client approached her. She felt both of their eyes on her body, judging her worth by every inch. It was disgusting. He reached forward to grab her wrists, holding them above her head.

       "Hmm. Not perfect, but I suppose that's to be expected. Definitely one of the better I've seen though. Quite redeemable, considering you've only offered one, today." She tried not to whimper as she saw his other hand draw back, reaching for her midsection. This was going to be awful.

       At some point, though, his hand stopped. Daring to look down, she saw that another's had gotten in his way. Glancing to the right, she saw the thin frame from earlier up close. How had Ten gotten up here so fast? And more importantly, why?

       "We politely request that you don't overly handle the goods until the exchange paperwork is in order." He said smoothly. At this, the client let go of her wrists as well, letting her now-sore arms drop slowly.

       "Yes, of course, my apologies." He continued looking her over, but refrained from touching her. "You know, it would be much easier to calculate my offer if my understanding of the subject was more... complete."

       "You know by now that we only take offers in this state. I can guarantee you that her skin, birthmark, health, and scarring situation is exactly how we described to you in your inquiry. We have a business guarantee, after all." Kun reassured him. She silently found herself sighing as the relief of not being derobed put her at ease.

       "Alright, I'll gibe you forty-five thousand for her." Kun's eyes shifted to her's for the very first time that day, and then back to the client. She had no idea what she saw in that moment. It filled her with both fear and peace, yet spoke no words. She couldn't read him at all.

       "That's ridiculously low."

       "I disagree, I think it's appropriate, especially for a customer of my particular statistics. In addition, I don't seem to see your financial handler anywhere, so who are you to-"

       "WinWin is unfortunately caught up in preliminary promotional photoshoots with 127. He'll be back for our performance tomorrow. That being said, I am more than confident in my abilities as a business man, and in turn, I am telling you that you are completely out of your lane."

       "Fifty thousand."

       "Too low." The client began to look exasperated at this point.

       "What do you want from me? How much can you possibly think-"

       "A heart can sell for close to one million dollars alone."

       "You know I'm not in the organ trafficking business."

       "Regardless."

       "You know that fifty thousand is standard for a human being sold whole."

       "Yes, but I'm considering the demand. I could dismember her myself and make close to forty million from the parts alone."

       "I definitely can't offer you forty million for one bitch."

       "I'll ask that you speak respectfully in the presence of a woman. I'm not asking for forty million. Let's say... five hundred thousand."

       "That's ridiculous!" The man exclaimed. "I'll go up to one hundred thousand, and that is my final offer!" Kun shook his head, almost mockingly, clicking his tongue in turn.

       "Abhorrent. I'm telling you my price." The man moved forward quickly, seething at this point.

       "You think that you can just bring me here, offer me one product, and then dare-" He lifted his hands as if to strike a blow. Kun didn't move in inch. Suddenly, she heard a few loud bangs, followed by a harsh cry. Screaming, she dropped to her knees, covering her ears with her arms in terror. She saw a heavy black boot step in front of her, the smoking tip of a gun just barely in her line of sight.

Go to Chapter 9

[lifeofresulullah]

The Life of The Prophet Muhammad: The Conquest of Makkah and Afterwards

The Siege of Taif: Part 1

The people of Thaqif, who were defeated by Muslims in the Battle of Hunayn, took refuge in their land, Taif; they closed the gates of the city and prepared to fight.  

It was one of the last shelters of polytheism. They had to be defeated so that they would never have the courage to oppose Islam. Malik b. Awf, who had made the tribes of Hawazin and Thaqif revolt against Muslims, took shelter there, too. It was necessary to catch him and punish him.

Therefore, the Prophet set off toward Taif with the mujahids. He knew Taif very well. Years ago, he had experienced the most painful days of his life there. He had gone to Taif to invite them to Islam but they had stoned him and he was drenched in blood.

The Islamic army reached the land of Taif soon. However, the people of Thaqif had locked themselves into their castle and stocked plenty of food as a precaution.  

It was not possible to enter the city by climbing the walls. Therefore, the Messenger of God besieged the city. The headquarters of the Islamic army was near the city walls; therefore, the mujahids received many arrow shots. Meanwhile, several mujahids were martyred by arrows.

Thereupon, the Messenger of God moved the headquarters back, near the place where the Mosque of Taif is located today. Two tents were put up for Umm Salama and Zaynab, the wives of the Prophet. The Messenger of God performed his prayers between these two tents and sat there. After the people of Thaqif became Muslims, they built a mosque there and named it “Sariya Mosque”

During the siege, fighting continued in the form of throwing arrows.

The People of Thaqif are Stoned Through Catapults

When the Prophet saw that the siege prolonged and that the people of Thaqif had no intention of surrendering, he talked to the mujahids to set up some catapults and throw stones at them.

Salman al-Farisi said, “I find it appropriate; we used to set up catapults in Persia in the castles and the enemy also used to set up catapults against us. Thus, it was easier to defeat each other. When there were no catapults, we had to wait for a long time.”

The Messenger of God liked the idea of Salman and ordered a catapult to be set up. The order was fulfilled. There were two catapults in the army; with the new one that was set up, the number of the catapults amounted to three. There were also two dabbadas (strong carriage made of cowhide) in the Islamic army.

The mujahids tried to go under these dabbadas and approach the castle and break through the wall but they could not manage it because the arrows, hot pieces of iron and pokers thrown by the enemy soldiers pierced the hide and made it difficult for them to proceed. Meanwhile, a few mujahids were martyred.

Attempt to Cut off Grapevines

The siege prolonged and the aim could not be realized. Thereupon, the Messenger of God took a different measure: In order to suppress the enemy economically, he announced that the vineyards and orchards that belonged to the notables of Taif and where high-quality grapes were cultivated would be destroyed; and he ordered the mujahids to cut off the grapevines.

When the people of Thaqif saw that their vineyards and orchards, which were their only source of income, were being destroyed, they said to the Prophet, “O Muhammad! Why are you cutting off our plants? If you defeat us, you will take them. Otherwise, leave them to us by considering the consent of God and the rights of kinship.”

Thereupon, the Messenger of God said, “I am leaving your vineyards considering the consent of God and the rights of kinship.” Then, he prohibited the mujahids from cutting off their grapevines.

Meanwhile, Khalid b. Walid, the heroic Companion asked the enemy to send someone to fight him one-on-one. However, there was no reaction from the enemy. One of them said to Khalid,

“None of us will leave the castle to fight you. We are going to continue sitting in the castle. We have enough food stock for years. If we run out of food and if you prefer to wait until then, we will draw our swords and fight you until we die.”

A New Tactic

The siege went on and on. The people of Thaqif had no intention of leaving their castle and fighting one-on-one. They did not think of surrendering, either.

Thereupon, the Prophet used a different tactic. He had an announcement made: “Any slave that leaves the castle, joins us and becomes a Muslim will be free.”

Upon this announcement, about twenty slaves left the castle, joined the Islamic army and became Muslims. The Prophet freed them and surrendered each of them to a wealthy Muslim so that they will teach them how to read the Quran and teach them about the sunnahs.

When the people of Thaqif later became Muslims, they asked the Prophet to return those slaves to them. However, the Prophet rejected their request by saying, “God freed them; I cannot return them to you.”

The Hypocrisy of Uyayna b. Hisn

Meanwhile, Uyayna b. Hisn went to the presence of the Prophet and said, “O Messenger of God! Let me go and talk to them; I will invite them to Islam. Maybe God will grant them guidance.”

When the Messenger of God let Uyayna, he went to the people of Taif and talked to them contrary to what he said to the Prophet, “By God, Muhammad has never encountered any people like you. Your castles are well-protected. Go on resisting.”

After that, Uyayna returned.

The Messenger of God said, “O Uyayna! What did you tell them?”

Uyayna spoke as if he was telling the truth: “I invited them to become Muslims. I said, ‘Muhammad will not return unless you surrender. Surrender and ask for forgiveness.’”

When Uyayna finished his talk, the Prophet said to him furiously, “You are lying. You said this and that.” The Prophet told him exactly what he had said.

Uyayna’s face blushed. He said, “You are telling the truth, O Messenger of God! I ask God to forgive me for what I said. I regret it. I repent to God.

Meanwhile, Hazrat Umaru’l-Faruq said, “O Messenger of God! Let me kill him.”

The Messenger of God said, “No! People will say I am killing my Companions then.”

The Dream of the Prophet

One night, the Prophet saw a dream. He saw that he was offered a bowl of butter but a cock turned over the bowl with its beak and spilled the butter.

When the Prophet told his Companions about his dream, Hazrat Abu Bakr said, “O Messenger of God! I think you will not attain what you wish about the people of Taif today.”

The Prophet had the same idea. He said, “I do not think it is possible, either.

The Siege is Lifted

The Messenger of God realized that he would not be able to conquer Taif at that time. If he continued the siege, he would lose time.

Meanwhile, he told his Companions that he was not given the permission to conquer Taif for the time being.

Thereupon, Hazrat Umar said, “Shall we tell people to get ready to retreat?”

The Prophet said, “Yes...”

Thereupon, Hazrat Umar told the Muslims to get ready to leave Taif. Hazrat Umar also asked the Prophet, “O Messenger of God! Will you pray against the people of Thaqif?”

The Prophet said, “God did not allow me to pray against them. Get ready to move.”

However, some of the mujahids did not want to leave without attaining anything. The even said, “Where are we going without conquering Taif?”

They applied to Hazrat Abu Bakr. He said to them, “God and His Messenger know it better. The Messenger of God receives orders from the sky.”

Thereupon, they went to Hazrat Umaru’l-Faruq and talked to him. Hazrat Umar said to them,

“We experienced the Incident of Hudaybiyah. In Hudaybiyah, I had some doubts that only God knew. That day, I uttered some words that I had never uttered before to the Messenger of God (pbuh). My family and property were almost destroyed. There was no conquest better than the Peace Treaty of Hudaybiyah for the people. The number of the people who became Muslims   after the Hudaybiyah was bigger than the number of people who became Muslims during the period between the day the Messenger of God (pbuh) was sent as a prophet and the day the Peace Treaty was signed in Hudaybiyah; and they became Muslims without any fighting. Whatever the Messenger of God does is good. After the Incident of Hu­daybiyah, I cannot object to him for anything. This is God’s affair. He reveals to His Prophet whatever He wishes.”

When the Prophet noticed that the general opinion of the mujahids was to stay in Taif for some more time, he said to them, “Get ready to fight tomorrow morning.”

In the morning, they fought. However, this fighting brought about nothing but some wounds. The mujahids also believed that they could not conquer Taif. When the Prophet said, “Inshaallah, we will return tomorrow”, they were happy. The Prophet smiled at their state.  

The Messenger of God and his army left Taif after a siege that lasted for about thirty days.

The people of Thaqif struggled with the mujahids a lot; they tired and wounded them; they also martyred about fourteen mujahids. Therefore, when the mujahids were about to leave, they asked the Prophet to pray against the people of Thaqif. However, the Prophet, who was sent as mercy to the realms, prayed as follows: “O God! Show the people of Thaqif the right path and make them come to us.”

The Messenger of God had such a vast feeling of mercy and such a big ocean of compassion that he did not want even his fiercest enemies to be destroyed; on the contrary, he wanted them to live with the light of Islam and belief. He asked his Lord to do it.

Returning to Jirana

After the Messenger of God lifted the siege, he left Taif together with the mujahids for the place called Jirana, where the booty obtained in Hunayn and Awtas was kept.

Suraka b. Jushum Becomes a Muslim

While the Messenger of God and his Companions were going to Jirana from Taif, they noticed someone approaching them. The Muslims wanted to stop him because they did not know him. They even wanted to harass him lest he should be someone with evil intentions. They asked him, “Where are you going? What do you want to do?”

When he realized that the Muslims would not let him approach the Prophet, he held the writing written by Hazrat Abu Bakr for him during the Migration between two of his fingers and shouted by showing it: “O Messenger of God! This is what you wrote for me. I am Suraka b. Jushum.”

The Prophet recognized him. He said, “Today is the day to keep my promise and to do you a favor.” Then he called out to the Muslims, “Let him approach me.”

When Suraka went to the presence of the Prophet, he uttered kalima ash-shahada and became a Muslim.

Suraka later said,

“I asked the Messenger of God, ‘O Messenger of God! Some camels at large come close to my pools that I fill with water for my camels. Will I have rewards if I give water to them, too?’ The Messenger of God said, ‘Yes... There is a reward for giving water to any being that his lungs.’ I did not ask anything else. I returned to my tribe. I separated the zakah for my goods and sent it to the Messenger of God (pbuh).”

The Booty and the Captives

The Prophet proceeded and reached Jirana.

The booty and the captives obtained by the mujahids during the fighting were quite a lot. The number of women and children held captive was about six thousand.

The booty that they obtained consisted of twenty-four thousand camels, forty thousand sheep, and four thousand uqiyyas of silver.

The Messenger of God did not start to distribute the captives among the mujahids in case Hawazins came and became Muslims. Meanwhile, he sent a Companion to Makkah o bring clothes for the captives; he clothed all of them.

Though the Prophet waited for more than ten nights, Hawazins did not come; so, he distributed the captives among the Muslims.

Hawazin Delegates Arrive

The captives had just been distributed among the mujahids when Hawazin delegates arrived. They said they had become Muslims and that the people in their land had become Muslims.

Halima, the foster mother of the Messenger of God belonged to the tribe of Hawazins. It was a tribe that looked after the Prophet when he was an infant. They mentioned it and asked the Muslims to treat them well; they also demanded their goods and the captives.  

The Messenger of God said, to them, “I postponed distributing the booty and the captives for a long time in case you came. However, you came too late. I distributed the captives among the mujahids. It is very difficult for me to return them to you.”

After this talk, the Prophet offered them to choose one of them: If they wanted, they would prefer to receive their goods or women and children back.

Hawazins preferred their women and children.

Thereupon, the Prophet said, “I am returning the captives that were my share and the shares of Sons of Abdulmuttalib.” Then he said to them, “After I lead the noon prayer, stand up and say, ‘We want the Messenger of God to intercede with the Muslims for us and the Muslims to intercede with the Messenger of God for us.’ I will repeat that I have waived my share and I will ask the Muslims to waive their shares.”

When the Prophet led the noon prayer, Ha­wa­zins stood up as the Prophet had advised them and asked the Messenger of God and the Muslims to return the captives.

The Messenger of God declared loudly in the presence of the Muslims that he waived his shares and the shares of Sons of Abdulmuttalib. When the muhajirs and Ansar heard it, they waived their shares.

Thus, thanks to the two sentences uttered by the Messenger of God, about six thousand women and children held as captives were released at once.  

This event is interesting because it shows both the vast compassion and mercy of the Prophet and the Muslims’ absolute loyalty and obedience.

Malik b. Awf Becomes a Muslim

After the Messenger of God returned the women and children to Hawazins, he asked, “What is Malik b. Awf doing?”

Hawazin delegates said, “He escaped and took refuge in the Castle of Taif. Now, he is together with the people of Thaqif.”

Thereupon, the Prophet said, “Go and tell him that if he becomes a Muslim and comes here, I will return him his family and give him one hundred camels.”

When the Hawazin delegates told him what the Prophet said, Malik came to the presence of the Messenger of God and became a Muslim. The Messenger of God surrendered him his goods and his family as he had promised; he also gave him one hundred camels. Apart from giving him one hundred camels, the Messenger of God gratified him by appointing him as the administrator of the Muslims in his tribe.

Affected by the grant of the Prophet, who conquered hearts through his nice attitudes, sweet words, grants and compliments, Malik b. Awf said, “I have neither seen nor heard anyone like Muhammad so far. When he is asked to grant something, he grants more than he is asked. If you ask him, he will tell you about the events that will take place tomorrow.”

Ma­lik b. Awf, who had prepared a great army against the Muslims about a month ago, became a Muslim and entered the service of Islam.

Distribution of the Booty

After the captives were returned to their owners, the Messenger of God was going to start to distribute the booty.

Meanwhile, it was seen that some Bedouins disturbed the Prophet and pulled his garment by saying, “O Messenger of God! Distribute the booty of camels and sheep among us.” The Bedouins went so far that the Prophet had to lean back to a tree. Thereupon, the Messenger of God said, “Do you think I will not distribute the booty that God granted among you? By God, if the booty was as much as the number of the trees of Tihaman, I would distribute them among you without fear and stinginess.” Then, he picked a camel hair and held it between his fingers and showed it to them. He said, “O people! By God, apart from the one-fifth, there is nothing, not even something like this camel hair, that I have from the booty. And the one-fifth is spent on you when it is necessary.” After that, he had the booty items counted and distributed everybody their share.

Grants to the Muallafa al-Qulub

In the Islamic army in Jirana, there were about two thousand people who had just become Muslims on the day of the Conquest of Makkah and some notables of Makkah that had not become Muslims yet. The Prophet used a new method in order to strengthen the belief of the new Muslims and to gain over the hearts of people who had not become Muslims yet.  

As it is known, the Prophet had the right to use one-fifth of the bounty. He could spend this one-fifth for necessary things and people.

Due to the purpose mentioned above, he gave abundantly from the one-fifth to the new Muslims and the notables of the Quraysh in order to soften their hearts.

He gave Abu Sufyan, the leader of the Qurayshis, his sons Yazid and Muawiya one-hundred camels each and forty uqiyyas of silver each. Thus, Abu Sufyan and his sons received three hundred camels and one hundred and twenty uqiyyas of silver totally. Abu Sufyan, who was received such great generosity and grants said, “May my mother and father be sacrificed for you! You are so generous and charitable. When we fought against you, you fought so nicely. When we made peace, you made peace so nicely. May God reward you with good things.” Thus, he expressed the generosity and philanthropy of the Prophet.

Besides, the Messenger of God granted two hundred camels to some of the notables of the Quraysh and fifty camels to other notables each.

Safwan b. Umayya Becomes a Muslim

Safwan b. Umayya was one of the people who opposed and acted against the Prophet and Muslims severely. He was one of the people that had been ordered to be killed wherever they were seen on the day of the conquest of Makkah. However, when he took refuge in the Prophet, who was like an ocean of compassion, he was forgiven. He asked for a period of two months to become a Muslim. The Prophet gave him four months.  

He also joined the Islamic army.

While the Messenger of God was checking the booty in Jirana, he spotted Safwan, who had not become a Muslim yet. He was staring at the valley full of camels and sheep.

The blessed eyes of the Messenger of God noticed this careful look and senses what he was thinking about. He said,

“Abu Wahb! Did you like the valley a lot?”

Safwan said, “Yes...”

Thereupon, the Prophet said, “Then, the valley belongs to you with all the things in it.”

Safwan was astonished; he could not believe his ears. After waiting for a while in astonishment due to the grants and generosity of the Prophet, who never said no to the requests of people, Safwan said, “The heart of nobody except a prophet can be so pure, good and generous.” He stated that his heart had been conquered.

Safwan was affected by the attraction of the light of Islam and the sun of the prophethood. He uttered kalima ash-shahada there and became a Muslim.

Thus, Safwan b. Umayya, who was the enemy of Islam for years and who was given permission for a period of four months to become a Muslim, embraced Islam at the end of the first month.  

Safwan, who beautified his Islam through good deeds, later stated the following about the effect made by that generosity:

“The Messenger of God was the person that I hated the most among the people until he granted me the valley. However, after his grant, he became the most beloved person for me.”

This incident is an example showing clearly how skilled the Messenger of God was at knowing people and treating them accordingly. Sometimes one compliment of his, sometimes a sweet word, sometimes a smile, a nice act and sometimes a grant was enough to gain over people. Only this characteristic of his is a topic that can be researched. When this research is made, it will be seen that the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) determined the rules and principles of making friends and gaining over the hearts of people more than fourteen centuries ago uniquely through his acts, attitudes and words.

To be able to make people loyal to you with one look, sign, word, smile or act is a characteristic of the Prophet that needs to be learned by the humanity.

The Objection of the Companions

Some Muslims who did not know the reason behind this act of the Prophet that aimed to affect the spirits of the people who had not become Muslims yet or who had just become Muslims felt disturbed by this act. They thought those people were preferred over them and that they were regarded superior. However, the Messenger of God did not do so with such thoughts.

As a matter of fact, when he was granting the people whose hearts he wanted to gain over (muallafa al-qulub), Sa’d b. Abi Waqqas, one of the Companions, went to his presence and said, “O Messenger of God! You gave people like Uyayna b. Hisn one-hundred camels each instead of people like  Juayl b. Suraka.”

The Messenger of God realized the reason for the opposition very well. Juayl was really poor in terms of money and goods but he was very rich in terms of belief. The Messenger of God knew that it was the reason for opposition; so, he answered Sa’d as follows:

“By God, if the earth was full of people like Uyayna and Aqra, Juayl would be better and more virtuous than them. However, I am giving them abundantly to make them like Islam and belief. I refer Juayl to his Islam and the rewards prepared for him in the hereafter.”

[emilyplaysotome]

Part 37 - The Bachelorette

Down the Voltage Rabbit Hole is an ongoing story about our MC, who could easily be anyone in voltage fandom. She woke up in hospital bed only to discover that she’d somehow been transported Voltage universe.

This story is ongoing, so if you missed a part, or are new to the story, please use the link to the masterpost below to catch yourself up:

https://tinyurl.com/k4rrxna

Part 37 - The Bachelorette

I am not, nor have I ever been a religious person.

It’s fair to say that I am one of those people who would classify myself as “spiritual” in the sense that I like the idea of reincarnation better than heaven and hell, which has always felt so binary to me. 

I believe in the fact that we, as human beings, are limited in our understanding of the world around us. I have always considered myself to be agnostic, and I believe if God, or some higher power does in fact exist, he/she probably isn’t as petty as the God I learned about as a child in the bible stories that come to mind.

With that said, this particular God who ruled all over the heavens as king, appeared to be as petty as the God from the old testament.

“My poor little Zyglavis,” he said with an amused smile that I didn’t trust for a second, “Oh well! I suppose the events to come will provide me with great entertainment...and that’s really all I can ask of someone as insignificant as yourself.”

It was clear that this God was an omnipotent, all powerful shit-stirrer, and being aware of that fact I thought it unwise to rock the boat any more than I already had. I simply bowed my head in response, as I tried to formulate the best way to provoke him into giving me answers to all the questions that I was currently kicking around in my head.

When I found myself unable to find the right words, I found myself muttering an, “Um,” which turned out to be just as successful in inciting the king to engage with me further.

“Yes? Speak up human.”

“Your highness...you said I had a week. What do you mean by that?”

“The tome Huedhaut found - the door. I’ll be sure to give you a personal send off then.”

“But why in a week, why not just send me back now?”

“Because where would the fun in that be? The second I heard your thoughts to take someone home with you, I felt compelled to intervene. Giving you a deadline will only serve to make it a more enjoyable viewing for me.”

I had to chuckle at that - the king of the heavens was far more of a troublemaker than I ever anticipated. 

It was clear that intervention was not quite what he was after, and it would be more accurate to say that he wanted to shake things up and then bask in the afterglow. What he craved was obviously reality-tv style entertainment at the hands of a few Goldfish and one of his most trusted ministers. 

Not wanting to let him down, and seeing as how I have always been a fan of reality shows, I decided to take the bait and appeal to his desire for what I would consider to be good, trashy television.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” I said, fully aware of how brazen I was being towards a creature who could smite me with the snap of his fingers.

“A deal with me?”

The king of the Gods’ smile hid something darker, but I didn’t let that scare me. I was in the home stretch so to speak, and I was determined to win the otome game that I’d been playing these past few weeks.

“I get three overnight dates. One with each guy. At the end of the week I choose one of them to return home with me and you see to it that he’s able to do so...even if that means losing one of your ministers.”

“Oh-ho!”

It was suddenly clear where Leon had picked up that small quirk of his, and the King, visibly amused cocked his head to the side.

The idea of three overnight dates with three men, resulting in one winner evidently intrigued the king, as I figured it would. After all, the Bachelorette had built its entire franchise on this concept, and had managed to keep itself alive and booming for over a decade after it first premiered on television. 

If that format was good enough for millions of Americans I had to figure it’d be just as good for a God who loved a little drama.

“You know it’s forbidden for a Goldfish to lay with a God, do you not?”

“I do. But part of my deal with you, is that you allow it - you give us your blessing.”

“And what am I getting in return?”

“Entertainment. Each night this week you’ll be able to tune in and see what happens. Don’t you want to see if I’ll be able to seduce a man as steadfast as Zyglavis? Isn’t that why you were encouraging me to try moments ago? You want to test him. You want to know if his loyalty towards you can be swayed. But if it can...I get him. Do we have a deal?”

“We do.”

The king of the heavens seemed delighted at the prospect of watching me as the Bachelorette, and with a far off look in his eyes, muttered something to himself about being able to part with anyone other than his beloved Scorpio. Upon hearing that I wondered if Scorpio and the king might be lovers (considering his clear attachment), but seeing as how it was none of my business, and not wanting to engage the king further, I bowed once more and began to exit the bath.

“Goldfish.”

I paused, worried that the king might throw another curveball my way and timidly turned back to face him.

“Choose wisely. Good luck.”

With the snap of his fingers he was gone, and my time as the Bachelorette was just now beginning.

I’d watched a fair amount of reality tv in my day and knew full well what I was going to get myself into with these overnight dates. 

For once, the speed at which feelings grew between people in this world seemed to be beneficial, and I pondered how, on my overnight dates in a fantasy suite, I could accurately gauge the interest of “forever” with a man who I’d only known for a short amount of time.

On the show, The Bachelor(ette) they kept things vague in terms of how far things progressed sexually between the contestants, but knowing that I was going to be headed home in only a week made me certain insofar as how I wanted to handle things. 

I’m sure there will be many who would judge me for this, but I knew that I’d need to sleep with all of them (unless something happened on the date that prompted me to change my mind), in order to properly evaluate our sexual chemistry, along with our long term potential.

Back in Zyglavis’ room, I changed into my pajamas (not quite ready for bed) and sat at Operation GTFO HQ with my slice of cake and laptop. 

I had planned on starting to write lyrics for Revance, but with a new project fresh in my mind, I decided to focus on planning my last week in this world. Having been familiar with the king of the Heavens from the game back home, I knew him to be a trickster, who often set up situations for his own amusement. 

Even though he’d told me that he would send me home personally, I considered the fact that he might not be telling me the truth. He was the type of God who often did what would amuse him most, and if that involved me being stuck in this world, it was obvious that he’d have no qualms as far as backing out of our deal.

For the time being, I would stay committed to reclaiming my independence while going on my Bachelorette style dates. 

If the king were to back out of his promise to send me home, I hoped that Huedhaut and the other Gods might be able to get me back under the assumption that I returned to my old self and shook off the characteristics that kept me stuck in otome-ville.

With all this in mind, I did what I did best and put together a tentative plan for the week to come.

Tomorrow (or today, seeing as how it was 2:30 A.M.), I would go to Ryo’s cafe and whip up Revance’s lyrics for them. 

Once they were approved, I would ask the band to wire me payment for the songs which would hopefully cover a shopping spree on Sunday. Like any notable Bachelorette, I was going to need a fabulous wardrobe for my upcoming dates. 

The king of the Heavens was unfamiliar with the production value associated with a show like the Bachelorette, and in order to curry his favor I wanted to deliver. This meant using the money from Revance on gowns, hair and makeup, in addition to planning extravagant dates designed to create a real life fairy tale experience.

Once I secured the funds needed to bankroll a week of luxury and glamor, I would coordinate the first (and what may very well be the last) meeting of my restaurant club for Sunday night, knowing that Sakiko, Chisato, and the Conte MC would most likely be available. With a girls only friend date on the horizon, I then would assert my independence using the rest of Saturday as a day to bide my (alone) time by attempting to stretch my new fun-loving, free-spirited muscles.

I would have a “Treat Yourself” evening. 

I’d see a movie, go to a park, or maybe even try my hand at creative writing or read a book...anything that made me feel good. In this bizarro version of Tokyo there were plenty of things to see and do, and while most of the settings had been used as date backdrops, I was going to check them out myself.

With my Saturday now planned, I shifted my focus to what needed to be done on the following day.

On Sunday, I’d spend the morning and afternoon shopping with the money from Revance. Next, I’d need to book three different fancy hotels for my overnight dates - Tuesday/Wednesday, Wednesday/Thursday, and Thursday/Friday. 

I knew the schedule was aggressive, and that there was a nonzero chance I would be able to get all three men to agree, but I’d promised the king a show and I was determined to give him one.

It made the most sense to try and schedule Jin on Tuesday/Wednesday, seeing as how we’d just had a great date together and it would be easy enough to tell him that I couldn’t get him out of my head and wanted to see him again. He’d offered to take me out even if I was leaving Tokyo, so morally and ethically I didn’t feel bad on taking him up on that.

I figured having an overnight date with Shun during the Wednesday/Thursday time slot would be too aggressive (seeing as how I’d accepted his job offer and he was now my new boss), and planned to go out with him last, using our time at work together in order to line that up in the most natural way possible.

This meant that Zyglavis got my time Wednesday/Thursday, and I felt myself smiling with anticipation as I pictured what a date with him would look like. 

Unlike the other two men on my roster, Zyglavis was the most reserved. It was apparent that both Shun and Namba would have no qualms spending the night with me, but Zyglavis...he was a different story.

On that note, sexual chemistry in a relationship is something that has always been important to me, and while I knew that most of these nights would be awkward and chock full of navigating each other’s likes and dislikes, I hoped to walk away with a real understanding of how each man was in bed.

Was he communicative? Giving? Selfish? Tender? Rough?

I wanted to know before I could make my final choice, and I worried that convincing Zyglavis to break the rule of the heavens and lay with a Goldfish (despite the king’s blessing), might be an impossible task.

I sighed, alone in the empty room as I finished the last bite of my gateau slice, picturing Zyglavis somewhere in the heavens completely in the dark as to the fact the King had paid me a personal visit. 

It was obvious to me that he was the frontrunner in my heart, but that did not necessarily mean that he would be the best choice for my life back home. 

With such a short amount of time left, I’d need to really separate the fantasy of each man from the reality of what life with them would look like back in New York. Strong feelings and passion only go so far, and the most successful relationships are often between two people who share a deep mutual respect and friendship that results in an ability for them to grow as individuals, together.

On paper, Shun seemed to be the best fit for me. 

We worked in similar fields and I knew that he’d be able to easily find employment in New York. He was a cosmopolitan man who enjoyed the finer things in life, so living in New York City would suit him quite nicely. I could see him being a great plus one with my inner circle, charming them with his looks and manners, while also being able to hold his own in our conversations.

With this said, I needed to know if he was capable of being more than a charming, pretty face.

I worried he might be too much of a playboy for my tastes. I had little to no time to convince him to remove his mask for me, but I knew that before I could commit to him I would need to see who he was underneath his slick, creative director facade. 

I knew that I wanted someone who was kind and caring, and who, when things would get tough as they inevitably did in life, wouldn’t cut and run to something that seemed “easier”. 

Whereas Shun struck me as someone who preferred ease in his relationships, I knew that Namba could handle a rocky road from time to time. In the short amount of time we’d spent together, I was certain that he possessed the ability to be there for me in the way I wanted someone to be. 

The problem with him was his lifestyle. 

He’d told me himself that he’d been in the force for half of his life. He’d worked impossibly hard to move his way up to the high ranking position he was currently in and I couldn’t see him giving all that up in an attempt to join the NYPD or something similar back home.

I knew how close he was with his team and I worried that taking him home with me would force him into a world in which he was isolated and miserable. A scene of living with him in my studio apartment flashed through my mind, except this time he was depressed, smoking out a crack in the window while complaining about how gross and deplorable the city I lived in was.

Crime in New York City was so drastically different than crime in bizarro Toyko. Would he be able to handle terrorism? Murder? Sexual Assault? 

Or would the cruel world I came from destroy his optimism for life, and slowly beat him down day after day.

Finally, there was Zyglavis who would be trading in his unlimited cosmic powers for an itty bitty living space (literally speaking seeing as how I live in a small New York City studio apartment). 

He was the biggest wildcard of the group, and I had to think it was unlikely that should he be the one to join me he’d be able to keep his powers or immortality. With that in mind, could I even ask him to step foot through the door knowing that committing to me meant he’d be stripped of everything he found familiar. 

Furthermore, if he were to agree to do so, then what?

Zyglavis hadn’t worked a day in his life in the human realm. Would he be able to happily acclimate to his new life as a Goldfsih? Or would he lose patience with things and grow to resent me for dragging him along with me?

These questions weren’t going to get answered tonight, and with my eyelids growing heavy I decided to pick my planning back up tomorrow. 

I closed my laptop, hiding all traces of my upcoming plan should Zyglavis return prematurely and got under the covers, snuggling up to the pillow he’d laid on the day we’d almost kissed. It still smelled faintly of his hair and the lavender smell from the baths, and I hugged it tightly, quietly wishing that I'd see him sooner than I expected.

With the room pitch black, I found myself drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

That night, I had two dreams that felt more like a vision, and less like a mishmash of my subconscious trying to process the day. 

Both scenes took place in the King’s throne room, and I watched as the same conversation played out in two different ways. 

In the dream, Zyglavis was in his true form, which I had yet to see in real life. He was more beautiful than I could even attempt to describe, and in both scenarios I stood off to the side, as if I were an invisible bystander.

In the first scenario, the King had been the first to speak.

“Zyglavis, I have paid your Goldfish a visit.”

Zyglavis blushed fiercely, breaking eye contact with the King and said, “It would be inaccurate to describe Ami as ‘my’ Goldfish, but with that aside, why have you done so if I may inquire?”

“She and I have come to an understanding. She will be allowed to take a man from this world home with her, should he give his consent, and you are in the running.”

“Me?”

The king chuckled, seeing through Zyglavis’ feigned surprise.

“Yes. She even went so far as to demand my blessing...which I gave her. You should feel free to have your way with her.”

Zyglavis blushed furiously, unable to mutter anything other than, “Yes, your highness” as he stared down at his feet.

“But hear this - should you chose to go with her you will no longer be a Minister of Punishments. Scorpio will succeed you, and though you will be able to return to this realm once the mortal dies, you will be unable to return to the high position you currently hold. Gods will no doubt talk, and it could be entirely possible that upon your return you will be considered the disgraced God of Libra by your peers.”

“I see.”

“However, note this. True love is something that alludes both men and Gods in their lifetime. Many will go through this life never knowing what it is to experience something so priceless. If this is in fact love, you would be foolish to turn your back on it. Consider these words.”

“Yes your highness.”

With that, the king smirked and dismissed Zyglavis. He started to leave and then paused. Sensing his unease the king addressed him once more.

“What is it?”

“These...other men. Who are they?”

The king chuckled, clearly tickled to see his stoic minister showing signs of petty jealousy.

“Zyglavis. Fear not. You are a God. And a man is no match for a God.”

Zyglavis gave the king a small nod, and with that he exited. 

The king turned towards me, and breaking the fourth wall smiled, as he snapped his fingers.

A bright light flashed before my eyes and I saw the two together once more. In this second scene, Zyglavis was the first to speak.

“Your highness, you wanted to speak with me?”

“Yes, Zyglavis. As you know, I have paid the Goldfish a visit.”

“How did it go?”

“Swimmingly,” the king said, laughing at his own bad joke, “I have given you both my blessing. You should not feel as if you have to hold anything back.”

Zyglavis smirked, “I don’t think that will be necessary. Taking advantage of a woman’s affection is not my style.”

To that, an angry look flashed through the king’s face.

“Zyglavis - you will put aside how you normally proceed to ensure that she picks you. I cannot have her taking anyone from this world home to hers.”

Zygavis’ expression became stoic and obedient, “Yes, your highness.”

“My trusted Minister. I knew I could count on you.”

“You honor me your majesty.”

The king smiled, and then as if something unpleasant crossed his mind he became serious and asked, “Tell me, do you feel badly at all for the Goldfish?”

“A little, but it is for the greater good - the logical way to proceed. I look forward to the time when I can return to serving you and the Department of Punishments once more.”

“Very good. You are dismissed.”

With his head held high, Zyglavis coolly turned and exited the room. Just as he had in the first scenario, the king broke the fourth wall and with a harsh look, addressed me directly.

“One is true, one is false. Which one? That I cannot say…Choose wisely Naomi.”

He snapped his fingers, and I jolted awake, covered in sweat and breathing heavily.

Daylight streamed in through the windows, and I checked the time to see it was 10 in the morning. 

I put a hand over my racing heart, reminding myself that it had just been a dream. However, as quickly as that thought crossed my mind, I turned to see something on the nightstand that hadn’t been there before.

Almost as if he wanted to hammer the point home, I picked up the card which had my name, my real name, on the envelope. 

It read:

Not a dream Naomi - One true. One false. Choose wisely or go home alone.

I sighed aloud, realizing how difficult my last week was going to be. Now that the king of the heavens was involved, I had opened myself up to unforeseen challenges, no doubt in the interest of making things more interesting for him.

I had been the one who was foolish enough to suggest a “Bachelorette” style competition in order to secure who would accompany me home, and like any good reality producer the king had merely stirred the pot.

To be continued…in Part 38

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