#one day......hopefully......the list won't be so bare-bones

[essencering]

↳ summary: random thoughts about how the boys might have reacted to you just vanishing due to the events of NB & how it affected the pacts with each of them.

↳ Tags: Gender Neutral Reader, Mammon (Obey Me!), Leviathan (Obey Me!), Lucifer (Obey Me!), Satan (Obey Me!), Asmodeus (Obey Me!), Beezelbub (Obey Me!), Belphegor (Obey Me!), Nightbringer Setting, SFW, Headcanons.

writer's blurp: let's all get onto the train of wild shit happening with MC being away from the boys they know once again and how their handling it. hopefully, it won't be a timeline wipe lol

↳ Lucifer

◆ despite everything that makes lucifer what he is, it means little in the grand scheme. both power and pride are useless in the wake of your sudden disappearance. ◇ his fuse seemed short, but now it feels even shorter. horribly, and painfully shorter, but despite that, he is taking more care to check on his brothers if he is acting like this then he can only imagine how his brothers are handling it. ◆ it won't stop. he can't stop the pain of his pact mark. as if it had been ripped clean off your person like a band-aid. it hurts like it should, the painful reminder of your existence, and your warmth are gone for the moment. he waits for you, for someone who may never walk through those doors again, but he waits.

↳ Mammon

◆ the first to feel it and the one who hurts the most. the one who grabs at himself where the placement of his pact mark is on your person just trying to feel something in the sudden wake of the void left behind. ◇ if he isn't out looking for you then mammon can be found in your room either curled up in your bed d.d.d in hand while he tries to contact you somehow. ◆ it hurts. horribly, painfully and mammon wails. the void that digs into his being and grows a little bigger with each day, he cannot find you. with each empty brush of your bond that isn't answered back is soul-crushing. each day is another call he makes to hear your voice, each day he asks, voice broken where are you?

↳ Leviathan

◆ the burning pain was enough to wake him up. leviathan couldn't breathe, and he couldn't think. so he panicked, grabbing his d.d.d and calling the first person on his list while he tried to calm himself down. ◇ leviathan couldn't tell who it was who did come in to help him, but when they did he just clings to them. comfort, warmth, family, here and alive. all the things he couldn't feel from you. whoever came held him even tighter while he blubbered from too many emotions and fear. ◆ when it gets to be too much the loss of the pact mark and just feeling you just brush back when he needed it the most. it seeps into his bones, leviathan feels cold and lost like he's somehow fallen once again. he does what helps him feel the safest-- hides away.

↳ Satan

◆ it almost feels like he is being skinned alive, with how you are torn away from him. with the pact missing, you're no longer just a touch away to be felt-- he feels wrath like he hasn't since he was born. ◇ his wrath is quiet, it is carefully moving beneath his skin. satan sees how each of his brothers slowly one by one seeks out one another. your loss is felt by each one of them, a void that none of them can feel you through. ◆ some days are harder than others, and satan feels the small spot inside of him that held you so close to his heart just-- close itself off to not feel hurt, but sometimes when he swears that he could feel the tug of you calling for him.

↳ Asmodeus

◆ watching the mirror break right before him, followed by how his soul feels as if it's being torn apart. the pact he shares with you feels so, so faint he fears the worst. ◇ the worst being that you died. alone, away from him, away from everyone who loves you, but-- he can sometimes feel your warmth when he reaches out. ◆ as comforting as that should be faint warmth and whispers of you still being alive are cold comfort. even if he can just barely feel you... he wouldn't be able to help you wherever you may be.

↳ Beelzebub

◆ beelzebub drops everything and moves. transformed, and in pain, he runs home, he looks, and he looks, but he cannot find you. his whole self hurts, his heart most of all. another, another person he loves is-- no. no just because he couldn't feel you didn't mean that you were dead. ◇ the world around him seems to move so slowly, but he eventually stumbles to the planetarium to find belphegor curled in on himself, and the moment belphie says that he can't feel you. that you're just... gone beelzebub breaks down with him. ◆ beelzebub can't sleep, but belphie tries to help him. nothing tastes right, nothing looks right when he eats and his brothers worry even more. nobody knows what's going on-- nobody can find you and beelzebub blames himself for not being able to keep you safe. his brothers say differently they all failed, but... none of them has failed to keep a loved one safe as he had.

↳ Belphegor

◆ belphegor wishes that he was asleep when he felt it because it would have hurt less in a dream (or so he thinks). to be awake, to be gazing at the stars to watch one suddenly blink out of existence followed by pain-- it was excruciating. ◇ just like the star, you had vanished, taking a piece of belphegor with you. and when beel stumbles into belphegor's sight... he crumbles. the two of them breaking down together. ◆ even when belphegor sleeps he doesn't feel at peace, but some nights... he can see you or he thinks he might. the dreams are always fuzzy, but in those dreams, it feels like you're right there with him. that somehow you're safe even if none of them can find you, much less feel the bond each pact has made with you.

[yuri-caps]

i think you might have answered this before but do you know any yuri with trans characters?

yep, i have! but no worries, i’ll just put that list here (after all, it’s pretty short—and only about two of these are technically yuri i think??):

double house (old-school but GOOD)

aerial magic (season 2 introduces her; it’s on line webtoon)

kyou kara yonshimai (a bit iffy but….has some good stuff in it)

kanojo ni naritai kimi to boku (newish one; it’s not really clear actually if the two main girls will end up together or if akira even likes girls but i’m rooting for them!)

wandering son (messy as hell, which is typical of takako shimura, but it’s well-loved, too)

and then there’s shimanami tasogare, which has some pretty sensational trans rep imo—and the mangaka is x-gender (japan’s word for agender)

[kuroosdreamwifey]

5 times valentine clichés reminded yuji of couples and the 1 time it reminded him of you

- itadori yuji x gn!reader

- fluff

- warnings: none

- note: part one of the valentine's special!! i'll be posting these throughout the week (hopefully, let's hope exams don't exhaust me to the bone before then)

- flowers

Yuji had never quite understood flowers. To him, they were just plants taken from someone's garden and given to people you care about. All that nonsense about flower language didn't interest him, and seeing couples walking around with huge bouquets on Valentine's Day only made it worse. He really didn't see the point of them, since all they did was irritate his nose. Watching the people in the park fawn over the flowers their partner got for them, Yuji decided that he would never give flowers as a gift.

- chocolate

Chocolate is one of Yuji's true loves. He could eat it everyday and not get tired of it, especially the ones Megumi makes. Top tier quality, in his opinion. He'll eat chocolate in any form, except for those disgusting cheap chocolates every store sells during the week leading up to Valentine's Day. During that time, the shelves of the stores are almost devoid of Yuji's favourite chocolate bar, in favour of the ugly pink heart shaped boxes with low quality chocolate in them. An absolute disgrace to chocolate, if you ask him. That moment, staring at the shelves with despair and disgust, Yuji swore to never get these chocolates for his future lover.

- jewelry

If there was one thing that baffled Yuji the most about Valentine's Day, it was gifting jewelry, or even worse, proposing to your partner. Why on earth would you want to get engaged on Valentine's Day, of all days? And why on earth would you spend so much money on rings that look like they've been made by someone who couldn't tell blue from green? It always puzzled Yuji, because he would never do that. Nope. Never in a million years would Yuji even think of gifting his partner store bought jewelry.

- perfume

This is probably something Yuji can get behind. Well, as long as it isn't some terrible fragrance that makes him nauseous at a small whiff of it, like those perfumes named 'Romance On The Beach' or some shit like that. No, Yuji preferred more subtle fragrances, which is why he never understood why there was always a group of men in the perfume aisle at the store, trying to decided whether rose scented perfume is the best choice. Like, damn, please grow a sense of taste because that choice is just disappointing. Yuji thinks he would do a much better job, except he has no intention of ever gifting it to someone.

- romantic dinners

Oh, the number of people he's seen walking around in suits and dresses, all ready to eat at high-end restaurants that served plates of food that barely filled half the stomach. In the short time he spent working as a waiter, he'd seen too many proposals gone wrong, people being stood up, one party being forced to pay the entirely too expensive bill. It really wasn't worth it, in Yuji's opinion. Why not just stay at home and eat dinner while watching something together? Won't that be much better? Not that Yuji would even know, since he had no plans of getting a partner in the near future, much less having a 'romantic dinner' with them.

- everything, all at once

If you told 16 year old that Yuji that he'd be standing here, three years later, in the perfume aisle of the store after having bought ingredients for chocolate cake and snacks for a picnic, he would've laughed in your face. But here he is, trying to decide which perfumes smells like you the most, the one named 'Vanilla Coffee' or 'Home In The Sky', something that apparently smelt like sea breeze? Or was it normal breeze? Yuji couldn't figure it out and with that he chose the other perfume to buy.

As he made his way to the counter, he mentally checked his shopping list. 1: Ingredients for cake? Check. 2: Snacks and drinks for the picnic? Check. 3: Perfume? Check. 4: Jewelry? To be picked up. 5: Flowers? To be bought.

Paying for all his stuff, Yuji left the grocery store and went to the jewelry store, taking out his receipt from earlier and asking the person behind the counter for his order. Nodding at him, the assistant went to the back of the store, coming back out with a necklace box in hand. Yuji decided early on that you two were too young for any kind of ring, so he got a necklace commissioned for you instead. It had a pendant in the shape of Alstroemeria, the flower that you never stopped talking about. It was also why he ordered for a bouquet of them. Remembering the flowers, Yuji made sure to thank the cashier before leaving the store, going to his final stop of the day before your house, the florist. There, he paid for the bouquet that he had to admit was extremely beautiful.

Yuji laughed at the irony of all this on the way to your house. Younger him was so skeptical and judgemental of everyone and everything to do with Valentine's Day. But you, you made him want to make an effort, made him want to celebrate Vlaentine's Day, made him want to spoil you with gifts.

And as he told you all this later, the two of you lying down on a picnic blanket, watching the stars, the necklace glinting in the moonlight when you turned to look at him, and you saying with teary eyes "Thank you, my love, for today. I really enjoyed it." and kissing him softly on his lips, Yuji decided that he would move the heavens and the earth on Valentine's Day if it meant seeing that beautiful, soft smile you reserved only for your happiest moments.

[justalost4girl]

" If anything can go wrong, it will."

Good night!! (Here it's still night :p )

A few weeks ago I said I would do a oneshot Lorraine Broughton x F! Reader, but it got too big so I decided to follow the initial idea and turn it into a mini series. I have two chapters written and I'm going to post them here and in Ao3, I think there will be 3 or 4 chapters in total, but I'm not sure yet.

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!!

warnings: mention of violence, R cursing, forgery of documents (?)

Words: 4573

▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰ ▱▰

1989

Berlin, East Side

You feel in your bones, when you wake up, the consequences of last night and think that the famous Murphy's Law decided to test you. On this side of the wall few things go right, but having an order in your head two days after joining STASI's wanted list proves that nothing is so bad it can't get any worse. Courtesy of a dumb customer who messed with the wrong people and thought revealing where you find your customers would be enough information to escape death. The Local Gang (or Angels, as they call themselves) loves to eliminate competition from the market.

Now he's dead and you have to deal with the STASI AND the Local Gang (you refuse to call them Angels).

The local fucking gang that sent a team of idiots to break into your favorite bar and made you run out the back door before meeting a customer who was going to pay well. The local fucking gang who must be pissed that you shot the six dumbest members you've ever had to face in your life. No really fatal shots, but of course that won't matter as they do business with the KGB.

Sometimes you want to ignore the rules you've made for yourself, especially "never kill someone unless it's in defense of yourself or someone you love", but you think killing six agents who don't have the ability to set up an ambush of success would be a great waste of bullets. Now you know you're going to have to leave town soon and you have no idea how to break the news to your brother/partner, how do you honorably abandon a war before it's over?

Damn Murphy's Law

You know you need to sort this out, but you refuse to stay in bed crying over what's already written and decide to leave the wonderful Egyptian linen sheets you got from your favorite client last month to face the world and it's impossible to face the world without a good amount of coffee. After a quick shower with a cup of Blue Mountain in hand, your newest addiction, you sit in a robe in a nice armchair, look out the window at dying Berlin and thank heaven for the comfortable life you've earned by working with one of the greatest smugglers on this side of the wall, perhaps from all over Germany. Some desperate customers offer you valuable items from them in exchange for passports and unlike your idiot “brother”, you don't have a rule about only receiving cash. Almost everything here comes from gifts, from the sofa, pictures, bags, clothes and even some books on your shelf. You don't even remember buying that cup, or the coffee set, for gods' sake.

If he saw you now he'd complain about being soft with customers and say something about how items aren't a bargaining chip in the real world, you'd get into a tiresome discussion about enjoying the finer things in life and how bills don't compare in the importance of yours. silver chain with moon pendant that was once an amulet for more than three generations for a French family.

At the end of the day, Merkel has a large information network and an office that takes up half the block, where she keeps as much money as she has secrets, and you have a house decorated by other people where each object symbolizes someone you've helped.

Four walls don't make a house

The thought takes away some of the almost peace you feel and you decide to finish your coffee before it gets cold.

After a quick glance at the calendar you remember about the march that will take place in Alexanderplatz square and decide to go scream for Germany one last time, hopefully you'll be able to hide long enough to see the fall of the damn wall that divides this country. It's not your country, not really, you don't even like to remember how you got here, but the experiences you gained wouldn't be exchanged for anything, not even for an original Van Gogh. Also, Merkel asked you to go and bring a black umbrella, the reason was not explained and you didn't feel like asking, sometimes you think Gordon Merkel is not his name, but how to judge the man who is your only family in this end of the world? You smile when you remember that he shouldn't have an umbrella with a story as cool as his and decide to piss him off for it.

Your phone rings, and you notice you've lost track of time. Merkel was helping a blonde woman named L, he didn't give you more details other than a few stories about how she was a perfect and dangerous assassin that you should keep your distance, as few people know how to deal with her. You thought he overreacted, but you had to take over some business from him while she was in town. She seemed important considering the way he told you about her and you knew better than to deny help to the person who always supported you and declared himself a brother, you trusted him because not even the best agent in the world could fake so much sincerity and affection in claiming this title for himself.

You reach out, pick up the phone, and decide to answer it. “Hey little sister, how are you out there? I called to say that everything is fine for dinner today, but there was a mishap and the wine ran out, bring the best Bordeaux you have, I'll return the courtesy as soon as possible." A code, of course.

He needs your services ASAP. Wine is a passport, Bordeaux means two elements, courtesy involves a child.

You can combine business with pleasure "Hi brother. I'm looking forward to today, I'll take the best wine I have, don't worry. I already know how you can thank me. I need to clean the house and go to the office first, but I'll be there on time. wait for me." you say in a voice that oozes normalcy, you never know when someone's listening on the phone especially now that you're a fugitive, disgraced customer. Your body sinks into the armchair noticing the oncoming cloud of worry

Merkel now knows you need his help, as cleaning the house means getting away and going to the office shows you're in a hurry.

"Alright, do you want me to send the driver?" He asks like he's not freaking out and offering the bloody job of one of his mercenaries

“No, bro, thanks, I know the way.” You say as if you really have an escape plan besides getting a fake passport, emergency backpack and all the money you can find.

“See you later, don't forget the wine. Are you sure you don't want the driver?" You wonder if he has forgotten that knowing the way literally means everything is fine

“Relax, see you later” It takes a few seconds for him to hang up and you can hear his sigh.

He will be SO pissed.

You put the phone down as you get up to gather the passport forgery materials and put them in a briefcase. Your cookbook is already there along with some banknotes from different countries. As you pick up the black backpack of standard clothes and accessories that always waited for you in the corner of the door, you decide to wear the first jacket you bought, the dark blue jeans, the combat boots you got from a skinhead, the wristwatch you bought. you got for your brother's birthday, thick leather gloves and a thin white shirt that matches the rest of your outfit. After all, if you can die when you open the door, then die well dressed. Be sure to keep the Colt 1911 around your waist and the Russian dagger around your ankle, after yesterday you never know, Your pocket watch with the coat of arms of the Brazilian imperial family indicates that 15 minutes have passed since Merkel's phone call

You take one last look at the house you've been so proud of in recent years, snap a photo with the Polaroid you've won, and, with a bittersweet smile, close the door. One day when the wall comes down, the government changes and your face is forgotten, you can come back here, until then you will have to make do with the photo album you keep in your backpack and this photo.

Putting on your sunglasses, you arrive on the street and decide to take a taxi on the other corner, make sure you look around before leaving your home, no one knows your address, but you can't be sure the local gang is so stupid to the point of not following you after last night.

Getting a taxi was relatively easy. Neil, the driver, thanks to the boots, mistook you for a revolutionary and talked for 10 minutes about how he hoped he could take down the wall with his bare hands, you thought it was cool, but as you passed the big river that was just a few blocks away from the your brother's office, you couldn't hear a word from him.

A sign signaling that the river was closed to visitors made your eyes fill with tears. You used to go there when the day was bad, spread a blanket in a corner and watch the stars, or just laugh at the distinct reflection the water made of the moon and stars. Merkel accompanied you on anniversaries, justifying them as bonding experiences. After some freaks started swimming in the river and executions increased, STASI took over and you replaced the dark water for the restaurant's bright lights. But seeing it tightly closed gave him a feeling of anguish and rancor. You would silently curse the wall builders for the rest of the trip.

Neil seemed to notice but didn't comment on it, you thanked him, wiped your tears and left a good tip as you descended a block away from your final destination. This time you didn't need to look around because even though Merkel was super busy, he made sure to leave some security close to where your landing place was.

A tall man dressed in a red T-shirt approached you and hugged you as if he hadn't seen you in a long time. You've known him since the beginning of last year, when he arrived at Merkel's office begging for a job, and from the first moment the way he turned grief over his brother's death into a thirst for revolution made you admire the young man. The two of you walked through the great gate hand in hand as you asked about his life with genuine interest, and Klaus increasingly believed in Merkel's theory about you having such a pure heart that you didn't care about motivation or the number of lives they took, your explanation of the judgment not being your responsibility, crossed the man's head before he escorted you to the main office.

You thanked him with a smile, opened the door and stood in front of the table in the windowless room, where your brother was already waiting for you.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? I was about to send J to get you, please tell me what happened"—he said hurriedly as he got up and pointed at the couch for you to sit on. J was one of the most dangerous women in the building and you were grateful for not wasting her time.

Putting your backpack and umbrella aside, you answered:

"I'll explain later, little brother, now let me help you. You need passports urgently, don't you?" Yes, you were stalling and postponing the conversation. He'd call you an idiot for going out on the street right after you got on the wanted list, and he'd feel guilty when he found out why you didn't tell him. Merkel wasn't going to understand that her fear of failing him was no one's fault but yourself.

Your sentence seemed to give him some responsibility back, but still, as he held out a glass of water for you, his eyes met yours with a glint that warned that this conversation was far from over.

"Yeah, I really do, but don't think I'm going to forget about it. Let's talk when this is all over. Even if it's the last thing I do today."

You accepted the glass with a bit of trepidation and stood up towards the large center table while opening the briefcase with the supplies you were going to need, if Merkel noticed the bills he didn't say anything. Once at the table, you made two passports for mother and daughter in record time. According to the clock, 10 minutes passed, faster than a car, this deserves a celebration. It would have been six if Merkel hadn't been so curious to make you waste time pulling your watch out of your pocket just for him to analyze.

Everything was going well and there was only one last detail for mother and daughter to be taken by one Percival to the other side of the wall. Percival, according to Merkel, was strange and fickle. Unreliable and extremely dangerous, you should also keep your distance from him, as this man had crucial contacts on both sides of the wall.

"He must have fewer contacts than you", you would answer

If a loud noise didn't break the silence

The annoying noise of the door creaking made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you almost missed the last signature, it made your body vibrate with irritation and your eyes follow to the offensive source of the sound. A tall man with short hair and blue eyes was holding the doorknob with a military posture and before you could release your anger and explain something about how people shouldn't be violent inside Merkel's office you noticed he was accompanied by a woman.

AND WHAT A WOMAN!

Your eyes connected to a pair of fierce, intent green eyes, surrounded by a pale skin tone and hair so blond it looked like snow. The barely perceptible frown showed she was surprised to find someone other than Merkel there, yet she looked ready for a battle. You looked into her eyes again and nodded in acknowledgment, this must be L, the woman he was talking about.

She looked at you suspiciously, but also as if she could see into your soul, and what must have been frightening, you found endearing. A few stories of murders orchestrated by her crossed your mind, but all you could imagine is how beautiful she must be when she's mad.

They say green eyes darken when we're high on adrenaline, does that happen to her?

Her analysis of the intriguing blonde ends when she notices that the man accompanying her has raised his voice and from his furious expression, it's not the first time he's repeated the question. You interrupt him before you hear him and make sure to direct the ghost of anger before him:

"Have you lost your mind? Who walks into the office without knocking? Surely you should be here asking about passports, but if it weren't for my experience and steady hands, they would be in the trash by now. Learn to be civilized. You're under two paws not four, so act human and not animal" you say in an explosive but articulate tone to make sure he understands what you say. Sometimes when you speak fast, you are betrayed by faulty diction. Not today. Today you want this man to feel every fiber of irritation that went through his body.

Hearing Merkel holding a nervous laugh, you try to relax, but judging by the cold, almost murderous look of the man in the doorway, you've definitely gotten yourself in trouble. Looking at the organized clothes, you notice it's an old police uniform, probably taken by your brother, and unless Merkel has hired new employees, you've never seen it around here. His eyes snap back to his and something inside you warns that this must be Percival. He probably wants to kill you.

Damn Murphy's Law

A brief silence settles in the room and you shake off the fear and turn away, refusing to play the glaring game with a man who almost spoils your art. On other days you might look at him at a party, but today you want to make him swallow the ink on the stamp in his hands and invite the blonde to dinner

And it's her voice that breaks the silence.

You're flipping through the two passports for failures when she says

"Sorry, miss. My friend is an unprecedented idiot. Shall I close the door and knock again? Perhaps your highness too--"

You turn her body towards her when you hear the slightest hint of irony in her tone and interrupt her with a fake smile as you look into her eyes.

"It's not necessary, I accept your apology, Miss. I always said that Merkel should have someone armed at the door to remind everyone of the need to knock on the door. Anyone who didn't knock would lose his mind as the law of my reign says. Perhaps I should start. for him, since the top head is the last thing he wears lately" you joke look at Merkel who doesn't seem offended by the statement, shrugging you look at those blue eyes again and say "the passports are ready. Let's get out of here."

You close the passports, reach for your backpack and umbrella and start moving towards the door, both agents let you lead the way and judging by the blonde's expression, she's not used to being interrupted, nor is she used to seeing someone talking like that with Merkel, but today it was acceptable. You really think she's adorable, but you know better than to let someone make fun of you, especially in front of your brother who wouldn't let you forget about it. Either she doesn't care, or she's a great actress. Anyway, that idiot is still by her side and you refuse to be the reason for his possible laugh.

Her friend probably didn't have the same acting classes and his resemblance to the local gang members, like he's going to kill you in the blink of an eye in a cowardly way, is almost frightening. If Merkel hadn't said L is a woman, you'd be scared. It makes you shiver a little and look for Merkel, but he's not following you. Looking over his shoulder you see him putting a few more piles of dollars and euros into your briefcase. With a snap of your fingers you get his attention and before you walk out the door, you hear the briefcase click closing.

Once out of the room, you look around and realize that nothing has really changed, all faces are familiar, except for three people: a couple talking to a child. After a brief analysis you find yourself facing the passport clients, mother and daughter. The man doesn't look older than 60 and has kind eyes, almost as if he doesn't live on this side of the wall.

They don't seem to notice you

Your observation is interrupted by Merkel's loud, proud voice, right behind you. Here it comes

"This is Elizabeth Loyd and Percival, two trusted clients. Elizabeth and Percival, this is my little sister, she will be on the march today, if you need anything in the future you can talk to her."

Hearing her name, you notice that Merkel really wasn't creative at all. Who would use the initial letter of a surname as a symbol? Anyone who heard the stories about L and met a loyde who knows a Merkel would make the connection. As you turn around, you swallow your nervousness and try to put on your best smile as you say your name to them. The blonde woman who finally has a name, Elizabeth, leans closer, her eyes never leaving yours, and you wonder if she can feel the jumble of emotions that is unraveling inside you.

She smiles a smile that makes you sure she does and reaches out and greets you with a firm grip, if she noticed the sweat on your hands, she didn't let on. She also looks a little more comfortable.

Maybe because she noticed you said her real name, idiot.

You hate yourself for one second and the next you want to be without gloves because it feels soft and warm.

The man, Percival, comes next and looks at you suspiciously and the smile fades from your face, you wonder if no one else can smell the strong smell he gives off, a smell of cheap whiskey and arrogance. Still, he holds out his hand and this time you thank the gods for the gloves. Make sure you don't bow your head or fail in your posture. He still looks at you like you killed his son. Useless even to pretend, for God's sake.

Merkel watches the exchange from afar and nods to Elizabeth, she responds and Percival walks away looking uneasy. You look around uncomprehendingly, feel a little left out, and wonder which computer must have Tetris installed.

You would kill for a distraction right now.

Going out on the street in a crowded march while being chased by two groups still makes you sick.

Your brother approaches and extends his hands around you. You've missed him for the past few weeks. He still wears the perfume you gave him for his birthday and it makes you sink deeper into the hug. You know he's going to be mad when he finds out what happened so you enjoy as much affection as you can

"Little sister, in addition to our conversation I need to tell you something" his voice is low in tone and you doubt you would understand the words if you weren't so close to him "but I can't do that until the march is over. Meet me at usual table at the restaurant where we celebrate our achievements, It's very important"

His even low voice is charged with strong emotion and you are genuinely worried, Merkel has never been like this before.

"I'll do it, brother, I promise. Whatever it is, we can work it out together" you say with all the certainty you can muster in your voice, because you need him to understand that this is true.

You feel eyes on you and as you look up you notice that Elizabeth keeps an eye on your exchange with Merkel while talking to the little girl's father, from the distance she probably can't understand anything and you don't know if she celebrates or cares with so much attention received. A little further away is a Percival who pretends to be busy with the coat he's wearing. He also pays attention to your exchange, but his talent for discretion is as effective as his ability to open doors.

Your eyes return to the concentrated blue eyes that are in front of you and Merkel speaks in an almost inaudible way:

"When I whistle, I need you to raise your open umbrella and stay alert. The three people we're going to cross are very important, nothing can go wrong. But if it does, I'll be at the restaurant, whatever happens find me there."

Noticing the proximity of Percival and Elizabeth, you place your hand on your brother's shoulder and smile as you speak a little louder:

"Don't worry man, it's always a pleasure to help you. I'll leave my briefcase here, then meet you to get it. Good march."

Merkel shows that she understands his strange move and smiles, you greet some friends of his that you haven't seen in a while and as you head towards the exit, you meet a pair of deep green eyes. Elizabeth is gleaming in the cold lights that are refracted by the mosaic of the gate, she looks into your eyes, ever alert, looks at the object in your hands and nods her head with a half smile, do you think the guard's idea black rain was hers.

As you wave back, you can feel that a pair of eyes haven't left your back since the moment of your brother's embrace, as the old man is saying goodbye to the family, you know who they belong to and decide not to look for them. If the STASI, KGB or local gang find you, he doesn't own the pair of eyes you want to remember before you die.

Taking a deep breath, you walk through the gate and blend into the crowd.

..........................................................................................................................

After leaving Merkel's office block, you take a hat out of your backpack and wear your sunglasses as you look around, not that a local gang member is here but because if he sees you in disguise he will ask a series of questions and he has enough problems already, plus STASI must be monitoring this area and the last thing you want is to be arrested. You decide to tuck your coat into your backpack to change your look, and while internally debating your ability to ignore the cold, your eyes catch the almost snowy blond hair in the crowd.

This signals that they are already on the march and you decide to get a little closer to them, but make sure you do this without drawing attention to yourself since the nasty man is still there. Elizabeth is on your diagonal absorbing all the extraneous details that might be a possible threat, she seems so focused on the job of passing the owner's gentle eyes in a safe way that it makes you wonder how important he is and if she's noticed you.

A few meters later a familiar noise floats through the march and you open the umbrella almost instantly, as do other protesters.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Percival taking the man's family across and sometime later Elizabeth does the same. You notice that her posture has changed and when she decides to stop for a better look, the crowd drags her and you can no longer locate her.

Her feet continue forward and as some signs are raised by the protesters, you try to find your brother. Unsuccessfully. You decide to trust their ability and hope that you can meet him again at the restaurant.

You also want Elizabeth to be okay.

Continuing on the march, after two or three long blocks you notice the familiar silhouette of one of the STASI bosses, he is watching the crowd as if looking for someone, but he doesn't seem to notice you. You notice observers on top of buildings and decide to leave the streets. Whether it's the Local Gang, KGB or STASI itself you don't know and decide you don't want to know.

Your brain tries to design routes to escape and your body mimics the movements of the closest protesters so as not to draw attention to you, but when some agents in black point in your direction and make space in the crowd, you run between people to seek shelter in somewhere you know and at every step you are sure that the day will be worse than you thought.

Damn Murphy's Law