#the fact that you used the basement floor butlers in this one--

[lenetaylor]

The Kellys - Paul McCartney's domestics

George and Gwen Kelly were employed by Paul McCartney for about a year (1966) at his house at Cavendish. The circumstances of their leaving are somewhat mysterious. Here's all the information on them that I could gather from public sources.

Paul bought the house at 7 Cavendish Ave on 13 April 1965 for £40,000. He then spent about £20,000 to renovate and redecorate, finally moving (from the Ashers' house on Wimpole Street) in March 1966. The house had (has) a basement, which served as living quarters for servants, a ground floor, and two floors above it. On the ground floor Paul installed an open-plan kitchen and a formal dining room.

In Paul McCartney: The Life by Philip Norman (2016), he writes: "Paul’s brief to the Adamses [the designers] was the strangest they’d ever received, or ever would again; he said he wanted the kind of house where a smell of cabbage floated up from the basement...In fact, the house had no basement from which cosy cabbage-smells could waft to its upper storeys." 100% wrong: The house does have a basement, and you can see the windows to the basement in some photos. This was a standard design for houses at the time, with the main kitchen in the basement along with quarters for some of the staff. This is where the Kellys lived.

Even though he gets that wrong, we'll continue with Norman's book:

In those same Sunday colour supplements one could read how, if traditional domestic servants might have no place in the egalitarian Sixties, wealthy young bachelors often employed a live-in married couple, usually Spanish, the husband combining the roles of butler and chauffeur, the wife cooking and keeping house. Paul started out at 7 Cavendish Avenue with just such a couple, albeit Irish rather than Spanish and with the reassuring Liverpool-echoey name of Kelly. When he hired them, he gave warning that his household would be anything but a conventional one, and defined their main role as just ‘to fit in’. He soon discovered the drawback in having domestic servants, as noted by writers like Harold Nicolson back in the Victorian country house era: there are always people standing around, eavesdropping on your conversations, obliging you to shut the toilet door (all the more irksome if you’re fond of sitting there, playing guitar) and generally behave as if you’re in an hotel rather than at home. Mr Kelly, evidently seeing himself as Jeeves to Paul’s Bertie Wooster, would ceremonially lay out his young master’s clothes for the day ahead until firmly dissuaded. Pop star pals who stayed overnight, and expected to be left comatose until after noon, would instead be briskly roused by Mr Kelly with early morning tea. On the big dining-room table, he placed a display of silverware whose highly-polished formality was too much even for Paul; to annoy them, he’d take out the ornate silver cruet and put a cheap plastic one in its place.

The "to fit in" quote is from a short piece that appeared in the London Sunday Times on September 18 1966, by Hunter Davies, titled "ATTICVS: All Paul":

Paul McCartney was in his new mansion in St. John's Wood. He lives alone. A Mr. and Mrs. Kelly look after him. Nothing so formal as a housekeeper and butler. Their job, he says, is just to fit in.

Barry Miles, in Many Years From Now (1997), picks up the silver cruet story:

There was a large dining table with an antique lace tablecloth, which was always beautifully set with all the appropriate cutlery, but it had a plastic salt cellar and pepper shaker in the centre. Paul owned silver ones but insisted on using the cheap ones, mainly to annoy the housekeeper, Mrs Kelly, and her husband, who had previously worked for gentry and let it be known, not very subtly, that they regarded their new position as a step down in the world. The husband had initially attempted to continue his role as gentleman's gentleman by laying out Paul's clothes each morning until Paul made it abundantly clear that this was not required. Every time they set the table the silver cruet was laid and each time Paul replaced it with the plastic one. Paul fired them for selling their story to an Australian magazine... ��I had this live-in couple called the Kellys who would wake you up early in the morning like everything was just going normally and we had just stayed up all night and it was like, 'Go away please!'”

Nicholas Schaffner's book The Beatles Forever (1977) has this information from George Kelly:

George Kelly, a veteran of 16 years of service in the Royal Army who went on to become butler and chauffeur at some of Britain’s most stately homes before being hired by Paul McCartney in 1966, recalls with distaste in his memoirs having to bring morning tea for two to Paul’s bedroom when Jane was away, and having to endure the sight of the Beatle stubbing out ciggies on his silver Ivor Novello awards. But nothing seems to have unhinged Kelly more that the time he accidentally stumbled in on “one of the most bizarre scenes I have ever witnessed. There, in front of the television set, were the highest-paid pop group in the world and their manager, bowing down and salamming, chanting and dancing with one another!” Kelly recalls making his way through the billowing incense and flashing colored strobelights to give Paul a message, but “nobody took the slightest notice of me. They were all on their own little clouds. So as the Eastern music…grew louder, I just left the room quietly.” Shortly afterward, the butler handed in his notice, but not before receiving lectures from his employer about the benefits of LSD: “Your whole life flashes before you and you realize all the mistakes you have made.” (p. 76)

Schaffner says this is from Kelly's "memoirs", but I can't find any evidence of these memoirs being published. It's possible Schaffner had access to an unpublished manuscript; the quotes certainly read like something written, not an interview.

In addition to serving morning tea at noon and whatever else they were doing, they had to deal with the endless stream of fans. At Meet the Beatles For Real, Carol Bedford talks about visiting London in the summer of 1966:

“I couldn't have been there for more than two minutes when Mr. Kelly, Paul's gardener, came out screaming and waving a hoe at me. He said that Paul had just come in at 3 a.m. and needed rest. I looked up to see the curtains being rustled on the middle window of the second floor. Mrs. Kelly came out, and when asked if Paul and Jane were married, she answered, "No, of course not! That's a bunch of rubbish!"

(Lizzie Bravo added, "Funny, I remember her husband, Mr. Kelly, we called him "Stick" and he was pretty nasty but I don't remember her...")

So did they quit, or were they fired? They were gone by the end of January 1967. Here's an article published January 12, 1967 that ran in several American newspapers; this was titled "They’ve Had Enough of That Job, Thank You":

George and Gwen Kelly, who were Beatle Paul McCartney’s chauffeur and housekeeper until they quit recently, read a newspaper ad saying a Mr. Brown needed a chauffeur and housekeeper. George telephoned the employment agency that had advertised, said he and wife might be interested and asked for details. “Yes,” said the voice on the telephone. “Your prospective employer lives in St. John’s Wood—” “Did you say St. John’s Wood? We know the area very well. We’ve got friends there. We used to work in St. John’s Wood.” “And the wages are good,” said the agency man. “Go on, please,” said George. “There’ll be lots of entertaining. You will see a lot of interesting people.” “Tell me,” said George, “what sort of a chap is Mr. Brown?” There was a long pause. Then in a low, confidential voice, the agency man said: “Now, you must promise not to say anything, but Mr. Brown is really Paul McCartney—one of the Beatles, you know.” “I know,” said George. “Thank you for your trouble in answering my questions.” “When will you be coming in for an interview?” asked the agency man as George hung up. When the Kellys left McCartney, George said he and his wife thought they would be happier working for someone with more regular hours.

(They're not wrong!)

Back to Norman:

Paul’s live-in domestic couple, the Kellys, had left his employment in January 1967, after Mrs Kelly talked out of turn to an Australian newspaper, though he still hand-wrote her a reference calling her ‘efficient and trustworthy’. After trying another couple, the Millses, he found Rose Martin (no relation to George), an unflappable, unshockable woman who would serve him with irreproachable loyalty and discretion for many years to come. However, Rose was fiercely loyal to Jane, so treated Maggie with barely restrained hostility.

And back to Miles:

Paul asked his housekeepers, the Kellys, to leave after he found that they had written an article about his home life for an Australian magazine. Paul: “Mr and Mrs Kelly are looking for another place and I���m getting another couple to replace them. There have been disagreements over the running of the household. I haven’t asked them to leave instantly because that would be unreasonable.” They were replaced by Mr and Mrs Mills. (“She still hasn’t given me a tune yet,” quipped Paul, referring to popular pianist Mrs Mills.)

And then we have Mike McCartney, who has a different story - here he's talking about his photo of Paul's smashed-up face:

The fab pic was eventually stolen from Cave Avenue by a ‘butler’ and sold to an Italian mag to illustrate ‘wild Beatle drug parties in swinging London’.

(I'm pretty sure he's conflating stories here - I don't remember reading anywhere else that his photo was stolen)

The only contemporary account of their departure I can find in the newspapers is from The Daily Mirror on January 6, 1967.

Beatle’s Staff Driven Out By His Fans By Kenelm Jenour

The married couple who act as housekeeper and chauffeur to Beatle Paul McCartney have given him their notices. The reason: They could not stand the fans any more. The couple, George and Gwen Kelly, have looked after Paul at his £40,000 London home behind Lord’s cricket ground since he moved in almost a year ago. Last night, while Paul was recording with John, George, and Ringo, Mr. Kelly told me: “Paul has been a good boss. But the fans have been a terrible strain. “In fact sometimes it’s been murder. We’ve had no private life at all. “Sometimes we can’t even get into the house because of fans crowding around outside. And we get phone calls from all over the world at all hours of the night.” The Kellys, both aged 40, told Paul on Wednesday of their decision to quit. But they did not set a date for leaving. “We don’t want to leave him in the lurch,” said Gwen in their basement flat at Paul’s home. “We will probably go in four or five weeks.” Engaged Gwen, who once worked with her husband for the Lord Lieutenant of Monmouthshire, went on: “We didn’t even know Paul was a Beatle when we came here. All we knew was that we had been engaged by a Mr. Paul McCartney. “And that’s what we have always called him - ‘Mr. McCartney’ or ‘Sir.” He hates any familiarity.” One thing the Kellys stressed: They are not leaving Paul, the only bachelor Beatle because he wants to get married. “As far as we know - and we probably know him as well as anyone - he has no immediate plans to marry,” said George.

The image at the top of this post is Paul's letter of recommendation for Gwen Kelly, which was sold at auction in 1993 for £250, according to The Paul McCartney Encyclopedia by Bill Harry (2003). It seems to have been sold through Tracks Ltd. in the UK. Here's the description:

A one-page job reference for a housekeeper, Mrs. G. Kelly, who Paul McCartney employed for a brief period in the mid-sixties in his home in Cavendish Avenue, London. Mrs. Kelly resigned as housekeeper due to differences with Paul about the running of the home. The reference dates to 1967. It reads, "Mrs G Kelly, Mrs Kelly worked for me and was a very capable and trustworthy housekeeper. She is an excellent cook and generally very efficient. Paul McCartney". It comes with four black & white modern prints of photographs of Paul McCartney's home which were formerly the property of Mrs. Kelly, (3 of these depict the housekeeper on the forecourt of the house) an original newspaper clipping relating to her resignation and a modern print out of another newspaper cutting. Three of the photographs measure 9cm x 9cm (3.5 inches x 3.5 inches), the fourth measures 10.5cm x 8.5cm (4.25 inches x 3.25 inches). The photographs are not being sold with copyright. The reference letter measures 20cm x 25cm (8 inches x 10 inches). It has tears and tape stains on the folds. The condition of the letter is fair.

Back to Norman:

Paul’s live-in domestic couple, the Kellys, had left his employment in January 1967, after Mrs Kelly talked out of turn to an Australian newspaper, though he still hand-wrote her a reference calling her ‘efficient and trustworthy’. After trying another couple, the Millses, he found Rose Martin (no relation to George), an unflappable, unshockable woman who would serve him with irreproachable loyalty and discretion for many years to come. However, Rose was fiercely loyal to Jane, so treated Maggie with barely restrained hostility.

I have spent considerable time searching online for "the Australian newspaper/magazine" that the Kellys supposedly sold their story to, but I can't find anything at all. Three possibilities:

The story was published in a small paper or magazine but isn't available online or in an archive

They talked to an Australian reporter but the story was never published, perhaps due to pressure from Beatle management (Murdoch involvement? He owned many newspapers in Australia at that time)

It was a rumor that got published as truth and keeps getting recycled; they really left because the situation was intolerable

I can't find any more information about what happened to the Kellys after they left Cavendish. I would love to know the end of their story!

(Honestly, being Paul's housekeeper in 1966 sounds like the worst job in the world.)

[concrete-beach-party]

BG3 Playthrough: Into the darkness! (Act II)

Co-op is frustrating sometimes.

We decided to follow up on Halsin's quest in order to make him FINALLY join our party.

Recovered Thaniel's body. Well, that was a shitload of monsters and shadows and whatnot.

Oh no! His spirit (?) is still missing. Thank god we already ran into the creepy little tiefling boy playing a deadly version of hide and seek, because that's him. Thaniel needed a bit of ... uh ... persuasion to come with us.

Now, this is where I am - again - fucking annoyed by how co-op works: I had Halsin in MY party. I did his whole quest so far. My partner had Lae'zel in their party, but they did have the last hit on the mobs spawned by Thaniel AND HALSIN TALKED TO THEM INSTEAD OF ME and THEY GOT ALL THE APPROVAL.

This is why I'm doing a solo playthrough on the side :(

Halsin finally agrees to make himself useful - this dude has been chilling in our camp for weeks now and I am delighted that all my companions are like "finally!!!"

We now continued to Moonrise Towers after avoiding this for a while.

First stop: rescue prisoners. They are free now.

Wulbren is an asshole. How the fuck are you trying to blow up??

Thank god only the basement is hating us now. Every other floor ignores that we just killed a bunch of guards. Ooops.

We may or may not have blown up that tadpole shipment at the docks. Who knows? Not the people in Moonrise Towers, apparently.

Rolan did not survive his attempt to get to Moonrise Towers on his own, which is honestly sad, despite him hating me. His friends also kinda hate me (one more than the other though)

Where the fuck are Wyll's dad and Mol?

I (Durge) wasn't nice to the resident cat. Accidentally killed her. Uhhhh.

The thing with Araj:

ARAJ. YOU FUCKING ASSHAT. GET YOUR HANDS OFF ASTARION. (My partner was confused when I rejected her offer, they then had to suffer a Ted Talk about Astarion's past abuse and his lack of bodily autonomy)

After bitching at Araj, we went to camp. (as this is co-op I have no hope of getting the high-approval-version of the following scene, so I went with this one)

Astarion and I are now official, I guess. He didn't really say anything, but we held hands and he was like "This? This is nice.". If I talk to him he greets me with "Gods, you're beautiful", so we're good.

He is fucking adorable because he really as NO CLUE what to do with real feelings, I love him so much, he is utterly confused.

YES I DID GO FOR THE FUCKING HUG.

Back to Moonrise!

Most of the people here know me. I just don't know them.

Ketheric Thorm also knows me and is somehow at fault for my current condition (a.k.a. brain damage, according to the ilithid in the Underdark).

The goblins are still alive, but I am seething. (Though, honestly, I don't know if they're really alive ... I have trouble believing the people in this tower would honor their word)

Ascending in the tower, we ran into Balthazar's chambers, where he did all sorts of interesting things. He kept a book about a "fallen one" who was "damaged" but a necromancer sort of managed to keep the fallen one alive and treated them like a pet, until - UNTIL!!! - the "pet" somehow ended up on a Nautiloid. I have a vague feeling we're talking about me here. Apparently I've been killed. And this is Ketheric's fault. The plot thickens.

I had the chance to talk to Z'rell and confuse her with my lusts for Astarion. He's into it, so it's fine.

Ketheric won't talk to us until we retrieve the Nightsong, which is kept in the Mausoleum and there's currently about 20 quests leading there. Balthazar is there too and he seems to kinda try to backstab good old Ketheric, or at least that is what I've gathered from his notes.

Next up:

He Who Was

??? the Mausoleum where every quest leads right now???

When will my butler decide he's unhappy with the fact that I did not kill Isobel? I have a very bad feeling about this.

[herri-writes]

yin, istg

yin. remember the "when aruji-sama gives them their phone" heaccanon? can i request you on making one. of course, with the number and butler of your choice^^/

when master gives them their phone

why would i forget my very first hcs that i posted on this blog? i wrote this whole thing in 2 hours and the majority of it was trying to figure out a new layout so yay.

✧ ━ MIYAJI OLDIA

✦ this old man would be stuck on the camera app wondering on how the hell this works, he even accidentally burst shot his face like 20 times as he was figuring out how to take a video.

✦ he might’ve also stumbled across your photo gallery which he immediately left because he thought he was invading your privacy. in fact — he thought he was invading your privacy when you offered him your phone, he declined at first but accepted it since you kept insisting him even if you weren’t sure about this decision.

✦ after watching him struggle with literally the most simplest feature on your phone, you decided to lessen his trivial sorrow and asked him if he wanted to take a photo with the both of you in it — but uh oh, it seems like he managed to sneak in about 2 photos of you watching miyaji with genuine pity on your face.

✦ you were completely stunned by this sudden surprise but you couldn’t help but giggle at miyaji’s face while he was secretly doing it. this man’s eyes were squinting as if he had looked straight into the sun.

✦ after his succesful learning experience with the camera app, what’s a better fitting app that would catch his app? the spotify (or insert any other music app) app of course!! if he finds out you don’t have spotify premium, he’s going to think the ads are really short songs and makes a mental of note that it’s the type of music you like listening toTT

✦ this is also an entrance for miyaji to find out what modern music is really like in your world. oh, you listen to mitski? miyaji will say that’s the equivalent to beethoven in his world. (lol)

✦ miyaji would try his best to find your playlists appealing even if he doesn’t like it. you would be nervous of him listening to your spotify because he is listening to it very intently with a serious expression on his face.

✦ after he’s done with his little modern music exploration, he’ll give your phone back with a smile on his face.

“Your taste in music surely does remind me of you.”

✧ ━ LATO BACCA

✦ were you asking for a death wish? maybe you were but the butlers were going to experience having a coded metal board thing that is widely used around the modern world sooner or later.

✦ the first thing lato does is to throw your phone, making you enter a panicked state of mind. well, he doesn’t technically throw your phone, he just questions himself out loud.

“Should I or should I not throw this across the room?”

✦ with you having to confiscate the phone from lato and having to set some boundaries, you give it back to him and watch him start to navigate your phone screen but he’ll accidentally close your phone due to his rather hard grip on it.

✦ lato would turn his head to look at you and directly ask for your password, maybe even with kitty eyes to convince you more.

✦ you tell him your password (or you just snatched it away from him and inputted your password) and lato is back to square one with the navigation screen.

✦ lato then proceeds to turn it off again and gives your phone back with a closed-eyed smile

“That’s enough for today, hm?”

✧ ━ FLURE GARCIA

✦ he accepted your offer despite being nervous himself even though it should be you who’s the most anxious between the both of you.

✦ his nervousness would end by hearing that you’ll show him photos of you wearing different clothes. flure has never been so excited in his life to be seeing someone’s clothes on a foreign gadget, especially if it was his master! with this, he gets to understand your fashion sense a bit more so he could make clothes that you would personally like.

✦ his eyes would shine brighter than the stars when he sees your self portraits and it makes you smile yourself seeing flure so mesmerized, well he has changed his expression into a disgusting one when he sees a photo of you he dislikes.

✦ this boy would be even happier when you offer to print these photos as references. how could he say no to this? it’s better than having to do it by memory that’s for sure.

✦ the both of you would just be stuck together talking about your favorite outfits while flure is taking mental notes of this, he’s already thinking of new designs to make inside of his head with new inspirations appearing from left to right.

“I promise to make you a new outfit when I get references!”

[analviel]

BAD BAT: an old thing I found in one of my notes, just wanted to share, not gonna continue it at all, I have no idea what I had planned for it.

Tim needed to do something.

Anything.

Anything but sit in front of the Bat-computer, staring.

Oh god.

Oh, god.

Tim needed to do something. Now.

But he couldn't because blood was rushing in his ears and his mind was sluggish, a desperate attempt to protect himself as his world crashed around him not for the first time.

This time, he didn't, wouldn't, have Batman beside him.

Because Batman-

Because Bruce-

Tim stared and stared and stared and all the evidence stared back.

The face of Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, and Timothy Drake stared back.

Robin stared back.

And of course Tim's mind had already made the connection, had already completed the picture, had already matched it to reality and filled in the blank spaces he hadn't even been aware was there.

Oh, god.

Combined with his sickness that had him benched for the night and the sudden, shocking, knowledge that Batman had killed his parents, had killed Robin's parents, Tim staggered to his feet and off his seat, socks slipping on the cool cave floors as he stumbled towards the nearest bin and upended his dinner. And lunch and breakfast and the other dinner until he was left dry heaving and crying in the Batcave over the stink of his vomit.

Oh, god.

Tim needed to do something.

Tim needed to start thinking of what to do.

The action was easy, instinct, trained. Retrieving one of his Robin storage from his jacket, Tim scrambled back to the computer to fumble with sticking it in, copying the entire file and all the incriminating evidence.

Methodically, he returned it back to its previous encryption, erased the backdoor he made, and burned every hint that he'd even come anywhere close to the file. So very, very aware of the chill of the cave, cold fingers digging in his inside, and senses peaked for any presence in the cold, cold cavern.

Now what?

Tim stared at the black of the screen of the Bat-computer and missed the light.

Shock, he distantly thought. He was in shock.

Robin- Tim stared down at the gold chip in his hand. So tiny. So harmless. And now it contained everything that could make or break.... a lot of things. A lot of people.

Oh god. Where was he going to go?

Oh, god.

Did he want to go?

Because Batman-

Because Bruce-

Bruce is Tim's father. The only father he's left.

And-

And maybe he's wrong.

(Denial.)

Maybe someone was trying to frame Batman. To turn his own family against him and what kind of son was Tim if he let himself be fooled so easily.

This couldn't....

This couldn't be right.

Tim took a shaky inhale.

Shook his head.

But if it was right then his current train of thought was all wrong.

Tim....

Tim was always left with the hard decisions wasn't he?

This wouldn't be the first time and he had the sinking feeling it wouldn't be the last.

So with an exhale, Tim yanked himself into the backseat of his mind and let training and objectivity slide in the slot of the driver.

In Tim's hand was evidence that Bruce Wayne, his adoptive father, had orchestrated the death of Dick's, Jason's, and Tim's parents deaths.

And just putting those in words, even just in his mind, almost had him with the knee jerk reaction to crash his mind just to stop thinking about it.

Now Tim didn't know what to do but he, undoubtedly, had to do something. Anything.

Well, anything that hopefully wouldn't get him killed by the man he considered his father-

Bad Tim. Don't think about that. Not now.

Later.

Who was he supposed to go with this information?

Alfred?

..... Tim didn't know. Everything he knew about Alfred said that the man would've never condoned this if he knew.

But everything Tim had known about Batman said the same.

Tim was too scared to be wrong and maybe even more afraid to be right.

Oracle? No.

Babs was a badass but she was vulnerable to Batman. She might be able to help, distanced from the situation as she was, certainly would be able to make better decisions than Tim currently could, but Batman could get to her -and it was easier to think Batman than Bruce- and Tim didn't want anyone hurt, least of all her.

Wether this was real or not and regardless of the growing part of him that wanted to shut it all out.

Tim was running out of time.

His mind was working against him.

And wasn't that a chilling thought because suddenly the word brainwashing and reprogramming-

Not now, Tim.

The sound of footsteps, faint and purposeful, was like a shot through his chest.

Tim stuffed the stick in a skin coloured garter pocket wrapped around his calf.

"Master Timothy- My goodness, young man."

Oh yeah. He didn't just feel sick, he probably looked the whole shebang.

He turned and he was vaguely glad that he didn't need to fake a smile or what when Alfred crossed the distance between them with a pinched expression, because he really didn't think he could put up any expression other than shock. And that he could barely hold up as it slowly gave way to despair and- and just an amalgamation of emotions he couldn't start even naming much less dealing with.

Alfred rested a hand on his forehead, "Young man, how long have you been down here? It seems your cold has worsen. Hardly a surprise when you spend your time down in this damp basement."

Who was he supposed to go to?

Tim had only a handful of options.

Alfred, Barbara, and-

And Dick.

Oh, god, did Dick know?

He tilted to the right and Alfred caught him, lips pursed. Everything feels like it's trapped behind murky water.

"I think that's enough. Go up to your room now and rest, Master Timothy."

Dick would've warned him, right? If Dick had known, his big brother would've told him, right? He wouldn't have let this happen.

Dick was-

His big brother.

Dick wasn't his only brother. Wasn't the last option.

Jason.

Oh. It's weird to attach that label to that name.

Weird.

Not bad.

The older boy -man? he's never quite sure what to call them, neither word sounding right- never really acknowledge him as such, it was probably beyond presumptuous for Tim to think of him like that even in the quite of his mind, but....

Tim's head shot up, almost headbutting Alfred.

"You're right, Alfred. I'm- I'm going to go up."

He ignored how weak his voice sounded and moved away from the butler towards the manor, just barely managing not to break into a run.

Then he was breaking out into a run once he's out of sight, past the many rooms and halls of the Wayne manor, and throwing open the door of his room. Without a single pause, he picked up random semi-presentable garments off the floor and wiggled out of his pyjamas to put them on, digging around his closet for the black box containing his customised watch to strap on his wrist, and grabbing his skateboard, a sticky note, and a pen on his way out.

Tim slapped a 'do not disturb, sleeping' note on his door. Fifty-fifty that the warning would be heeded, every second would count.

Tim turned on the micro computer in his watch as he snuck out of the manor and past the grounds, using the shadows of the night and his innate predilection for stealth to his advantage.

~*~

A banging on the door had Jason grabbing a gun, Kori standing at attention, and Roy training an arrow at the window.

They were in one of his safe houses in Gotham, a short stop to pick up some supplies, patching each other up from their latest mission, before they're going straight back to the base.

No one should be knocking on this apartment.

Jason exchanged glances with the others and slowly approached the door-

"Please! Jason, I know you're in there! Please, please open up! Please, oh god, please open up!"

Robin.

He'd know that voice anywhere, practically his largest trigger for the Pit Madness-

He sounded desperate. In fact, if he was hearing right through the hardwood, the boy was practically sobbing.

Already knowing who it was, and feeling a trickle of worry in the back of his head despite himself, Jason sped up the rest of the way and pulled the door open to see Tim Drake in all his civilian teen glory. Pale, red rimmed eyes, and choking on his breath.

Out of his armor.

Defenceless in front of Jason.

Not Robin.

The boy didn't even wait for an invite, stumbling inside and grabbing the door out of his hands and slamming it close behind him.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing kid?" Jason growled, letting all his menace fill the air.

Roy raised an eyebrow.

It was strange to see Jason being like this with a kid.

But Tim Drake was different.

No, not really. Jason was just a hypocrite who didn't do what he preach and wasn't actually all that better from those scums he put bullets in.

And Tim- Tim just stared.

So miserably it was the only thing keeping the green at bay from flaring as it usually did around his replacement.

That and the fact that, this time, if Jason was going to do something, he'd have to look Tim Drake in the eyes.

"Did- did you know?"

The question was so quiet he almost didn't catch it with his thoughts still swirling.

Jason blinked, "What."

And Tim sobbed, sliding down to the floor in a breakdown and Jason's mind blanked.

And for the first time in a very long time, Jason thought where was Dick?

(The last time he thought that, he was in a warehouse and a crowbar was falling on him.)

"I-" Hands came up to wipe at the tears in vain, "It was my fault. If I didn't- dad, and mom, they- and Bruce-"

Tim made some sort of keening sound and, yeah, he wasn't going to get anything out of the kid in his current state.

And Jason was hyperaware of his teammates behind him, waiting for his lead.

Jason dropped in a crouch barely an arms length away. The kid didn't even flinch, didn't make any indication that he was aware in how much danger he was currently in.

His cheeks were flushed and he was sweating in a way that had Jason suspecting that his temperature was higher than normal.

"Kid.... Tim...." it was a challenge to keep his voice at least not aggressive. The boy choked on another sob, blue eyes purple in the dim lighting as he looked at him, and oh, fuck, he was hyperventilating.

Jason needed him present.

And there was only one sure way he knew to do that.

"Robin. Calm down." He said in that exact same pitch he did.

But to Jason's confusion and actual rising concern, rather than freezing and gradually falling back to trained breathing, Tim paled -how that was even possible with how pale he already was, Jason didn't know- and reeled back in horror, chest stuttering.

Shit.

Jason watched him.

He shook his head, but at least his eyes seemed more present now, "Don't- don't call me that, please."

Well, if he hadn't already thought so before, now he knew with certainty that it was Bruce that got his Robin running towards his homicidal predecessor.

Go figure.

"Hey, kid. Tim. You need to calm down. Mainly, because you're not gonna get out whatever you came here to tell me or whatever, and partly because I ain't promising I'm not gonna get violent if you keep wasting my time."

.... It was exactly what he wanted to say, but as usual, something in him got a bit complicated. Not quite regret.

But closest he was probably going to get.

He felt that around Tim a lot.

Tim hiccupped, finally falling back on training to shove aside the hysteria. Then he pulled himself to his feet, eyes staying locked on Jason's and completely ignoring the two.

He presented him with something gold and Jason looked at it with a raised eyebrow as he straightened himself.

"I-" he cleared his throat, "I don't know- Just. Jason, you need to see this- no, I mean, you need to leave Gotham, immediately, and then read it. Everything. Don't- Don't come back until you do, please. That's-"

He ran his hand through his hair the second he was sure Jason wasn't going to drop the stick, looking torn between being as far away from it as he could and snatching it back.

He exhaled a gust, deflating, staring at the older boy morosely, sparing a glance at his friends.

"I don't know what to do, Jason. I- I don't have anywhere else to go. I don't think...... I don't want to think anymore, please. I'm sorry. I could be wrong, I'm probably wrong, I'm being stupid and just overreacting and- and I don't know what to do when I get back. I don't know if anyone else knows, if Alfred-" his voice hitched, "Or, Dick, or- or Superman, I just. I just don't know-"

Jason watched the teen practically break in front of him and in a split second decision, he telegraphed his actions.

And pulled Tim Drake into a hug.

"Calm down. Calm down. Breathe."

He didn't coo, and his voice wasn't designed to be soothing. It was almost a demand actually but it worked and Tim stopped babbling and after a few minutes of complete silence and Jason's hand awkwardly drawing circles on his back, their breathing were in sync.

"... Thank you." Tim said to his chest, and fuck, the kid was short and so fucking small how did he not bleed out-, "Thank you, Jason. I'm going to go- go home now."

And because, well, he didn't really know what else to do, Jason agreed and sent him out, letting him go back to the manor.

He'd regret that later.

~*~

Dick stared at his phone with a frown, worry churning in his gut.

3p.a.;bst¿!

Seemingly a random keyboard smash text from an unknown number, but was actually one of the many protocols of the contingencies his little brother absently rambled about during late nights hanging out, one of the many codes he'd memorized, not quite humoring Tim since anything was possible, but not one he'd ever worried about in their immediate future.

Batman was compromised and likely going after Dick for whatever reason.

And okay, yeah, Dick was concerned but not harried, since if it was really bad then another protocol would've been activated. Mind you, the Batman being compromised was truly something to be concerned about, but it seemed whatever was happening didn't pose the risk of Bruce dying.

That said, Batman was compromised and last Dick knew, Tim was with Batman.

And now Dick had no choice but to trust that Tim knew what he was doing and was somewhere safe for them to regroup.

Not that it stopped the familiar stone in his chest whenever he worried about his little brother -little brothers.

Dick grabbed his emergency pack and prepared to leave, for Nightwing to disappear while they fix this.

Sorry about the big block but I'm... trying to figure out how to do the read more thing on mobile.

[shisekibo]

[Event Story] Chapter Two - Butlers in the Basement

↫ previous story | story list | next story ↬

Second Floor - Butler’s Office

Fennesz:

 “The Black Tea Party has many complex rules.”

Fennesz:

 “It’s not just your typical tea party, we need to practice proper table manners and the correct dance steps.”

Muu:

 “I see. It sounds like you have a lot of work to do.”

Fennesz:

 “Haha, you say that as if you’re not involved. You’re going to be practising with us too, Muu.”

Muu:

 “I-I’ll do my best...!”

Ammon:

 “If we’re going undercover, that means we have to hide the fact we’re Devil Butlers, right?”

Ammon:

 “So we have to, like, make sure we don’t mess up and draw attention to ourselves.”

Boschi:

 “Tsk. Sounds annoying...”

Ammon:

 “You need to start talking more posh, Mr. Boschi.”

Fennesz:

 “Pots and kettles, Ammon. You need to watch how you speak too.”

Ammon:

 “Ugh... But...”

Boschi:

 “Ammon, you’re going to have to study the basics again.”

Haures:

 “I don’t know why you’re acting like you’re better than anyone, Boschi. I’m much more worried about you.”

Boschi:

 “Huh? Did you just say something, Haures?”

Muu:

 “Are you sure this is the best group to infiltrate anything...?”

Berrien:

 “They’re much more capable than the other floors, I believe...”

Berrien:

 “They’re much more experienced too. They’ve completed many more Hunts and taken on much more dangerous tasks.”

Berrien:

 “And no one can work together better than them when the mission calls for it.”

Muu:

 “I can’t imagine Mr. Haures and Mr. Boschi working together at all...”

Choices:

“Maybe they fight so much because they get on so well?”

“I can’t imagine it either...”

Berrien:

 “But I am worried about whether they’ll be able to use the correct manners and dance well...”

Berrien:

 “Oh, that’s right. Let’s ask them for help.”

Muu:

 “Them?”

Lato:

 “Which means... Professor Miyaji and I are going to be your teachers from now on.”

Lato:

 “Professor Miyaji’s going to teach you table manners and I’ll teach you how to waltz...”

Lato:

 “I look forward to working with you.”

Haures:

 “Um... What’s going on?”

Berrien:

 “I asked the Basement Butlers to help you with this commission too.”

Berrien:

 “Mr. Miyaji is also an etiquette coach, just like me.”

Berrien:

 “And Lato is a fantastic dancer.”

Berrien:

 “I’ve asked Flure to make the outfits you’ll be wearing for the Black Tea Party.”

Flure:

 “Please, leave it to me!”

Flure:

 “I’ll make something fancy for you too, Master.”

Choices:

“Thank you.”

“I wonder what you’ll make...”

Berrien:

 “The Basement Butlers are extremely talented when it comes to music and dancing and all the other arts.”

Berrien:

 “They’ve been to many parties too. I’m sure they’ll be a great help.”

Fennesz:

 “I feel much more confident now they’re here.”

Fennesz:

 “You must be extremely busy, Mr. Miyaji. Thank you for helping us despite that.”

Miyaji:

 “No, it’s fine. It’s my job as a Devil Butler.”

Lato:

 “Haha, Master. Let’s practise dancing together.”

Ammon:

 “I’m, like, glad they’re helping, but...”

Ammon:

 “He’s not exactly the easiest person to deal with...”

Lato:

 “Ammon...”

Ammon:

 “Wh-what is it?”

Lato:

 “You should be more worried about yourself than me.”

Ammon:

 “Ah, haha. Sure.”

Ammon:

 “He definitely heard me complaining... Mr. Lato’s ears are scarily good.”

Lato:

 “Haha.”

Berrien:

 “Now then, everyone.”

Berrien:

 “We have a week before the Black Tea Party...”

Berrien:

 “I’m counting on you all to prepare sufficiently.”

[jq37]

The Case File – Mice and Murder Ep 4

The Case of the Puzzling Painting 

Welcome back to Loam Hall where our Sylvan Sleuths are still hanging out in a room with a dead body. When we left off, Gangie had been snooping into Sly’s conversation about Fletcher Cottonbottom and now, he uses his Criminal Contacts feature to see what he knows, if anything, about a recent return. With a 26 he knows that his family used to be well respected but after the whole business with the insurance fraud and Sly busting it, the family kind of fell out of favor. So Fletcher was in a weird position where he was rich and a part of high society and had enough dirt on everyone to get them to do things for him but couldn’t actually show his face because he was disgraced. Gangie also knows that it’s rumored that Fletcher’s weapons running scheme was actually a front for moving art. 

With regard to more recent news about Fletcher, Gangie was never in direct contact with him but he knows that 3-4 years ago, his most trusted henchmen started going missing--people attributed it to some kind of “Cottonbottom Curse” and that rumor is part of why Gangie decided to get out of dodge in the first place.

Buck does an insight check on the rest of the PCs and, with an 18, doesn’t clock anyone there as especially suspicious (Lars isn’t there but like..it’s Lars). Ian tries to give Squire Badger his last rites but ends up pulling the knife out, putting it back in, flapping blood everywhere with his feathers, and sending Constance into a badger rage. Buck tries to help smooth over things, claiming his big screw up was a new style of avant garde church ritual (Ian appreciates the support--who ministers to the ministers, you know?) and in the process sees his knife for the first time. Which, you know. He obviously suspected before but never nice to see.

While this is going on, Daisy sneaks off to try and check on the secret door and everyone sees her do it/eventually follows her but we’ll get back to her once we check in with Lars who is en route to the kitchen. Once in the hallway, they do a perception check and, on a 15, there are 3 doors and Ally gets to pick one. There’s a kitchen where Gilfoyle is talking to a group, a door where someone is crying behind it, and a door where they can hear nothing. Ally, the galaxy brained genius, goes for the quiet door. That’s the money door and with their ears pressed against the door, they can hear Edwina and Carolyn--the two mice maids that overheard Buck’s conversation with the Badger--whispering about what happened there and wondering if they should pay back the money they were paid to by Buck.

Gilfoyle walks out and sees Lars snooping but on a Nat 20 deception check, Lars is able to play dumb and skate by suspiciousness. Also, with a dirty 20 perception check, when the mice maids leave, Lars sees that they’ve been stealing silverware. 

OK, back to Daisy who is getting to the séance room as quickly as possible. She has two rounds before people catch up to her so she’s trying to make the most of it by Investigating the painting she noticed was bolted to the wall earlier. She first rolls an 11, getting no new information. This is so frustrating to her. She’s good at this dammit! But being around Sly is rattling her terribly. She has feelings for him--strong ones. But she isn’t herself around him. How can she be with him if he makes her so unlike herself? Her introspection is enough to earn her advantage from Brennan on her second roll and boom! 25! Daisy is back. 

With that roll, she notices that the eyes in the painting actually move and can be used as a spying post on the other side. Then Sly runs in and they start bickering immediately. Daisy throws a crystal ball at him and absolutely brains him on a nat 20--the first combat roll of this very RP oriented season. 

Buck and Ian are still in the room with the body for the moment and Buck asks Ian about the first few names on the list Gangie gave him. There were a bunch of members of the Burrows family--a working class family that all died of a consumptive illness. And then the Diggories who died in a carriage accident. The connecting thread? All badgers. Buck then zooms away to follow Daisy, Ian follows, and Lars, seeing them as they leave the kitchens, also follows. 

So all the PCs are in the séance room now and they kinda have the sense of, “OK y’all, we’re all screwed but we’re al screwed together so we better throw our lot in with each other and start working together so we don’t die because no one else here is on our side.” Buck proposes an alliance and they all agree to share info. Sly asks about Buck’s knife and Buck admits it’s his but says he didn’t do it. Sly believes him--not because he wouldn’t do it but because he has no motive (that he knows about anyway. Buck doesn’t spill about the contract). 

Gangie shares the list of names from before with the whole group.It’s like half badgers and then some other critters (full list here). Sly doesn’t share any of his secret info Grant got texted. Daisy and Buck don’t share about the key (though Sly you’ll remember sat her steal it). Buck does however mention his suspicion about the fact that Gilfoyle wasn’t around when Squire Badger gave his speech and Daisy does the same about the fact that he said he would call the cops but the cops haven’t arrived yet. Lar’s remembers that Jez’s husband is gunning for at seat in parliament and wonders if this is related somehow. Daisy mentions the eyes in the painting and everyone is like way to bury the lede dude! Especially when they’ve just all spilled their secrets. Everyone checks on the painting and with a 25 Gangie can intuit that this is probably used to spy on rich people when they’re mid-séance and vulnerable and spilling secrets (which he doesn’t share but Daisy comes to a similar conclusion on her own). Buck on a 23 can smell ledgers (idk how but the DM said so and I’m reporting it) and guesses that that’s where the Squire’s real office is which means that’s probably where the contract he needs to find and destroy is too. 

 The group makes a list of their loose ends which are what’s on the other side of the painting, what’s up with Fletcher, and the smell of ozone. Plus Ian remembers that the date on the bust in the study is wrong and shares with the class. 

Lars tries to get to the other side of the room by ripping the painting off the hinges with a very impressive 26 but there is fully a wall behind it and the noise brings Gilfoyle, Harding, and the Badger kids running. Lars notes that in the stone behind the painting it says “⅓”  and then hurriedly puts the painting back. Daisy thinks that might refer to a secret third floor or basement accessible by the elevator (but my first thought was that there were 2 other spying paintings in the house somewhere).

Everyone in the room hears the Gilfoyle and co. coming and try to act natural. There is a group stealth check that they all tank so heavily that all the suspicious staff and kids need to do to suss them out is roll above a 5.

AND THEY ROLL A TWO. 

With that, Lucretia appears, totally buys that they’re doing very important spiritual work in there, and in fact guards the door for them. They use the privacy bought by their very vigilant sentry to plan their next steps. Sly, Daisy, and Ian will check out the study while they rest of them check out the elevator. As they exit, Lucretia asks if they got the answers they needed out of the spirits.

Oh yes, says Daisy, echoing Lucretia’s nonsense prediction from last episode. Either something good or bad might happen. Either way, I’m excited! 

Case Notes

How baller of a player move is it to say a line so poignant that the DM is forced to let you roll with advantage? I have been on the other side of that as the DM and it’s so great. MAD respect to Rekha for that. AND THEN THE DICE COOPERATED. You simply love to see it. 

The other best Rekha line is Daisy to Sly upon being called out about stealing the key in his normal, coy, quippy way: You saw me bitch.

Shout out to Grant also for being constantly on as Sly. The guy is on point always. Impeccable.

I am SO SO SO happy Daisy and Sly are on the same mission team. If I was friends with either of them I’d be like, “This is a toxic relationship, they make you too crazy.” But as an outside viewer I want them to be within crystal ball throwing distance always.  

The question I’m sure we’re all asking: Is Brennan enough of a minx to invoke the butler did it trope? I know everyone at the table is thinking it even if none of them have said it outright. I figured the reason the cops haven’t showed up yet was the storm but who knows?

Two pieces of housekeeping, only Buck and Gangie know what the room behind the painting is with their high rolls and, after the bit of passing it back and forth with Buck, Daisy has the key. 

I really can’t do the bit about Gangie’s mom justice. I wish there was a comedy Emmy for actual play DnD shows so D20 could get the accolades it deserves just for that bit. 

Brennan indicated that the conversation between the mice maids was the most interesting info (Gilfoyle convo to staff was too public to be juicy/they could get the info from one of the many gathered staff people and crying is info on its own--though I am curious about who the crying person was) but I’m wondering what he meant by that. Because the fact that Buck paid them might be interesting if Buck did it. But we know he didn’t. Is it the fact that they were in the room at all? Again, info that the party knows if not Lars specifically.  The fact that they were stealing silverware? What’s Brennan’s game here?

[hazbincalifornia]

Revelations

Chapter 21: Stolas and Blitzo have a talk. Two of them, in fact.

Warnings: Mpreg

Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!

Ao3 link

“I wonder if I’d be unlucky enough for it to be twins.” Blitzo’s fingers traced over the dome of his stomach as Stolas’s head twisted to the side. They were taking another break- the weird heat had broken with a body full of sore muscles to show for it, and it was nice to have a moment to relax. Stolas had offered some kind of smoothie made from one of his plants that had helped soothe the aches some and bring his energy back up after another nap. For now, though, resting against Stolas’s side was a good enough way to catch a few extra breaths- he’d leave later in the afternoon. Probably. It was comfortable, here, and it was much harder to peel himself off the sheets than it should have been. (To be fair, he was pretty sure he'd impaled one of the pillows with his spikes, which helped with that.)

“Hmm? I’d be able to sense that- there’s only you and the one little one in there.”

“Yeah, well, you said you couldn’t knock me up either. Your judgement’s not great,” Blitzo said, leaning back to stare at the dark, velvety top of the canopy. Fancy-ass bed. It was comfy, at least- and helped where he might have popped something in his hips.

Stolas gave a little chuckle. “That was a mistake on my part, and we’re both thinking clearly now, aren’t we?” He tiptoed his slender fingers over Blitzo’s belly. “More than we’ve been for the past few days, at least. It’s just the one, I’m afraid... although twins would be nice.”

“Yeah, no.” Blitzo scoffed. “They’d hold hands and laugh and frolic before life tears ‘em apart like it does to everybody. Happy shiny faces getting dragged down to the dirt because somebody's always gotta beat somebody else, and then it’s gonna suck shit for both of them because they used to be happy and know what it was like. Only one kid’s better, that way they don’t have somethin’ to lose right from the get-go. They'll have u- you, that's enough.” He paused. “Plus, I’m not squeezing two little bastards out, I want to be able to reuse my man-cave all nice and tight again sometime this millennium.”

Stolas blinked all four eyes, index fingertip pressed down just above Blitzo’s bellybutton. “Something you’d like to tell me, Blitzy darling?”

Blitzo looked down at him before slumping his head back, tail idly curling around the owl’s arm just to feel something soft.

“Nah, just musing.”

“Well, if you’re sure.” Stolas pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m going to go check on Via, then we’ll see about one more round before you have to go back to reality.”

Blitzo sank back down into oblivion as Stolas’s weight left the bed, and he rubbed his stomach as he heard the door click shut. “You’re gonna have him, at least, and you’ll grow up in a mansion. Lucky little bastard. You’re gonna have to annoy him for me so he knows what you were like in my guts, got it, squirt?”

In response, junior nudged against his palm, and he hummed a little, snuggling down into the warmth of how their smells mixed together in the blankets.

_____________

Blitzo had tugged on one of Stolas’s shirts, having given up on finding his mesh one again- Stolas would probably unearth it inside a pillowcase in a week or something. The lopsided Loo-Loo Land apple was stretched out just slightly by his stomach, but the fabric going to just past his knees made it more like a dress than a top. Whatever, he looked damn good in dresses, and right now it smelled like Stolas and sex and had a cozy warmth and he liked that.

“So, what’re you going to do with them once they’re out?” Blitzo asked, idly rubbing his stomach at a nudge from the inside. Stolas clicked his tongue.

“Well, first, I’ll need to get things for the nursery. Some of it will be fine either way, like a crib and some basic clothes, but some will be better for imps and some for owls, we’ll see how they come out. Via tore through plenty of toys when she was little, her beak was razor-sharp right from birth!”

Blitzo grinned. “Oooh, are you going to use one of the guest rooms?” He stepped out into the room and waved a hand, fingers spread apart over his head as he painted a picture in his mind. “With a big starry mobile or something, that’d look nice.”

Stolas shook his head. “Oh, no no no. They’re going to your apartment. You’ll be the one housing them.”

"Ah, right- wait." It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, and his fingers froze in midair, twitching before dropping \like dead birds. “You want me to what?”

“To house them?" A pause “Wait, you didn’t realize-” Stolas blinked, clicking his tongue. “Oh, poor Blitzy.” Blitzo barely noticed the brief dip into the baby-talk voice because the floor seemed to be melting underneath him, along with his legs. “I assumed it was obvious. You’ve seen first-hand the fact that there’s people after me who would use them as bait. I can’t exactly keep them in a cage in the basement, and goodness, I wouldn’t want to, they’re a child! They’d be interrogated relentlessly because of their half-imp blood, not to mention I don’t doubt that my wife might invite some sort of…” He cleared his throat. “Accident. It’s for their own safety.”

Blood bubbled thick and sticky in Blitzo’s cheeks. “Are you kidding me? That wasn’t what I signed up for! Six months, that was it!” He took a step back, but as his tail nervously flicked in the air and smacked something, he realized that he was about to hit the wall. Stolas was a towering force as the prince crossed the distance between them again with a single smooth motion.

“You signed up for this ‘as long as I agreed to help.’ I’ll give you as much monetary assistance as I can, of course, and I do plan to help in-person as often as possible, I care for both of you and this was-“

“That’s still- I can’t handle a fucking baby! Loona was seventeen when I adopted her!”

“You’re smart, Blitzy.” Stolas’s fingers cupped Blitzo’s chin and tilted it upwards. He’d never felt smaller, Stolas’s frame nearly blocking out the overhead light from this angle. “You care about your hellhound and your little employees plenty. I know you, you'll figure it out. Come now, I don’t intend to leave you to flounder, we both wanted this-”

“So you’re just making me do all the hard parts? Fuck you!” Blitzo’s chest was pumping like billows as he was caught on the edge of hyperventilation. “This is- this is just-”

“This is what you agreed to,” Stolas said, quietly but firmly. “You love your daughter as much as I love mine- when you’re less hormonal, you’ll agree with me. I’ll still do my part, and you’ll do yours, my little imp. It’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll be there for them, but it's not my fault you never asked what would happen.” The hand against his face warmed, and when Blitzo’s eyes flickered down, both it and his stomach were glowing.

"You were the one all gung-ho about it, I just figured you wanted to deal with that shit." He swallowed as the pieces snapped into place, and wished desperately he’d brought some kind of weapon to smash directly in Stolas’s fucking face with that concerned little fucking smile like everything was perfectly fine and dandy and not falling to bloody, future-destroying pieces.

There was always a catch. 

“I can’t get rid of it now.”

“I cast a protection spell when you made the deal,” Stolas said, crouching down and still somehow being slightly taller as his gaze dragged Blitzo all the way to the bottom of the Rings. “To be sure you wouldn’t go back on your word. They’re safer that way- both of you are.”

Blitzo scooted sideways and shoved Stolas’s hand away, the glow fading as he did. “I need to go.”

“What’s the hurry? I thought we were having a good time. I know this must be surprising, but it's an honor for-”

“Something at work. Urgent. Just remembered. They need me.” His tail curled up and around his belly and squeezed, the point digging into the side. “The heat’s gone, we’re done here.”

“Don’t do anything irrational, darling,” Stolas said, straightening up just as there was a pounding on the door. “Who is it?”

“Me, sir.” It took Blitzo a few seconds to clock the voice as the butler’s. It had been eons since he’d last heard it.

“What’s so important? I’m in the middle of something.” Stolas’s tone dipped to irritation as the butler pushed the door open.

“It’s your wife, your highness. She returned home early.”

[lochrannn]

@pepperf and I challanged each other to three Whumptober fics. Here’s my first contribution

No. 1 - ALL TRUSSED UP AND STILL NOWHERE TO GO “You have to let go” | barbed wire | bound

Warnings: Canon-typical Violence

Tags: Hurt/Comfort; Canon-Typical Violence; Injury; Implied/Referenced Torture

Relationshipts: Diego Hargreeves/Lila Pitts; Diego Hargreeves/Hargreeves Siblings

Characters: Diego Hargreeves; Lila Pitts; Five Hargreeves; Allison Hargreeve; Klaus Hargreeves; Hargreeves Siblings

Summary: Stuck in an unfamiliar 2019 the Hargreeves have struck an uneasy truce with Reginald and his Sparrows until Diego and Five are summond to the academy to identify an intruder who was captured by their father while looking for them.

They’ve struck an uneasy truce with Reginald and the Sparrows.

It’s caused no small amount of strain amongst the siblings. Fuck, Diego can’t say he’s in anyway pleased about it himself, he was probably the one who argued the hardest against it, but it’s not like he can’t understand Five’s logical pragmatism either.

There is no immediate benefit and only very real danger to fully antagonizing the most powerful group of people in a place where the original six Hargreeves siblings (Diego is confused himself sometimes about how to refer to all of them) have no resources, no allies, and no history to speak of.

They already had a scuffle with the Sparrows when they first arrived, and maybe if they hadn’t been exhausted and confused and completely overwhelmed to see not-Ben in the Sparrow academy uniform they might have had even a sliver of a chance. But as it stood then, they were very quickly overpowered and the only thing that saved them was Five’s ability to compartmentalize.

Somehow Five convinced Reginald to let them leave the mansion. Whether their father genuinely doesn’t think they are a real threat to his world and his timeline is entirely unclear, but Diego and his siblings know that they have been free to move about the city and stay at a motel on the outskirts only because Hargreeves is letting them. If and when he decides that he can’t risk leaving them alone any longer, they will be in real trouble.

They are all sat around the bedroom Allison is sharing with Vanya, arguing over how to continue, Five firm on his stance that his siblings need to sit on their asses until he is done calculating how he can bring them back to their original timeline (nobody wants to say out loud what they all know to be the silent continuation of that phrase - if it even still exists), while Diego thinks Five can juggle his silly little numbers, but in the meantime they should try and establish just exactly how dangerou the Sparrows are and if they should actually take the opportunity they’ve been given to protect the city from their father’s twisted sense of justice.

Allison, unsurprisingly, is with Five, and considering that she has lost the most in their original timeline, Diego can’t actually blame her for it.

To his utter surprise, he thinks Luther might actually be coming around to his point of view. Vanya is trying to find a compromise and though Diego has started appreciating her need for harmony, right now he really wishes she would stay the fuck out of it.

Klaus is sitting by the cracked window, intermittently taking drags of his cigarette and watching the discussion, but clearly uninterested in taking part.

Some part of Diego is worried about him, but he neither knows how to approach Klaus about how he’s feeling, nor does he think he has the time to stop and deal with his brother’s grief. It can wait till later, he tells himself.

“... you imbecile!” Five is shouting at Diego, the two of them squaring off in the middle of the room, Five’s lack of height doing nothing to make him any less ferocious, “If we draw dad’s attention like that he might figure out that we’re trying to restore our own timeline. And I might not know the old man that well, but he’s not an idiot. He wouldn’t risk the possibility that us trying to restore our own timeline could destroy his. He might not have killed us yet, but I have no doubt he will if he thinks we might bring about the end of his world.”

That stops Diego for a moment, he hasn’t thought of the fact that that could be a genuine risk. He doesn’t know how to feel about that, but he catches a glimpse of Allison out of the corner of his eye, the way her eyes are big and bright, her lips pursed, and her arms are crossed so tightly it almost looks like she’s physically trying to hold herself together, and he decides that that is another thing to think about at a later stage, or hopefully never.

Diego is just about to respond to Five when there is a knock outside.

It’s not particularly loud, but it isn’t gentle either and they all freeze and stare at the door.

Then there is a flurry of hand signals going around and it doesn’t seem like they are really communicating anything through them, except that nobody is quite certain what the best course of action is, and in the end Allison, who is the closest to the door, rolls her eyes, untangles herself, and turns around to open the door a crack.

Diego can’t see who it is but he can tell by the way Allison tenses and squares her shoulders, that it’s not a welcome guest. It would have been highly unlikely anyway, it’s not like they know anybody good in this place.

“What do you want?” Allison says. Her tone is cold and razor sharp. She doesn’t need the Rumor to be commanding even when asking a question.

“My father would like to talk to your brothers,” a man’s raspy voice responds.

“Yeah, well, why didn’t your father come here to talk to them, then?” Allison doesn’t budge an inch and continues blocking the door with a foot behind it so it can’t just be shoved open.

“My father is a very busy man, Allison, he doesn’t have the time to trudge all the way out here,” the man on the other side of the door responds, clearly one of the Sparrows, and Diego can see Allison's knuckles go white where she has her hand on the doorframe at the casual use of her name.

“We’re a little busy, too, right now, so if Hargreeves wants to talk to any of us…” Allison begins but then Five interrupts her and calls out from where he’s stood next to Diego in the middle of the room, “Who does he want to talk to?”

There’s a beat in which Allison starts fidgeting by the door, clearly as enraged with her brother now as with the man standing outside the motel room. Then she pushes the door open far enough to reveal a man that Diego recognizes as the Sparrow with the scarred up face, but Allison doesn’t let go of the door, making sure to signal that he is not coming in, even if she’s letting him talk to the rest of the Hargreeves.

“You,” the man says in an even voice, pointing at Five, then shifting his finger just a little to point at Diego next, “and him.”

-

They are greeted in the entrance hall of the Sparrow Academy by a Pogo that looks like the butler/teacher/guardian they grew up with but who has only the slightest hint of recognition in his eyes when he looks at Five, but none whatsoever when he looks at Diego.

He takes them to the elevator that they were never allowed to go near when they were children and presses a combination of buttons that makes the contraption descend.

When they stop and Pogo opens the grate, Diego realizes that at least they haven’t arrived at the floor with an anechoic chamber at the end, but it doesn’t make him feel any less nervous about being in the Academy’s basement. They have nowhere to run.

And the way their father is standing halfway down the hall shrouded in darkened shadows certainly also doesn’t help. On the contrary, it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“At last you’re here,” Reginald says, his voice not particularly loud, but it echoes off the empty walls and is dripping with sarcasm, “I haven’t got all day. Pogo, tell Number Four that I expect him to bring our honoured guests here in the fastest fashion possible, if I ever ask him to retrieve someone again.”

Diego and Five give each other a look and clearly silently agree that apparently they're expected to follow Hargreeves when their not-quite father turns on his heels and starts marching down the hall, Pogo bringing up the rear.

“We have had an intrusion into the Academy last night. But fear not, with only a very small amount of difficulty, we were able to subdue and capture this interloper. However, though we applied our most thorough interrogation methods, we haven’t yet been able to establish her identity,” Reginald declares grandly and Diego feels his blood run cold in horror.

“That being said,” Hargreeves continues, voice still clipped and impassive as he opens a heavy metal door and ushers in Five, Diego, and Pogo, “Before she started putting up a fight, she seemed to be under the impression she might find you here!”

Hargreeves is looking at him expectantly, but Diego is taking no notice of him, because they have walked into a cold, tiled room, with very sparse furniture, at the center of which is a large metal chair.

Handcuffed to the chair’s arms is Lila, looking badly beaten up and possibly unconscious, head lolling on her chest, and Diego can see a white piece of cloth tied as a gag around the back of her head that’s highlighting even more how messy her hair looks.

Diego sees red and three things happen at once.

He wants to call out to her and go to her and get her out of here, but all he manages is to stammer, “Luh-” before the word gets stuck in his throat and as he takes a step towards her, all of a sudden, everything stops.

Irrationally, Diego has the sudden burning urge to suck in a breath, despite the fact that he doesn’t actually need to and also he realizes that even though it feels like even the air around him has gone completely still, he has no actual trouble breathing.

And then he feels the hand grabbing his wrist and when he looks down at it, he sees that Five is holding on to him with fingers that are glowing blue and an expression on his face that is split between concentrated, enraged, and in pain.

“What the fuck?” Diego says, staring around them at the way everything suddenly seems like it’s two dimensional, the complete and utter lack of any movement flattening the world around him weirdly.

“I know you are about to do something really fucking stupid, Diego, but I need you to stop and think for a second,” Five says. He sounds a little out of breath and strained.

“Have you stopped time?” Diego almost shouts, incredulous.

“Yes, but I won’t be able to hold onto this for very long so I need you to understand that there’s nothing we can do to help her right now!”

Five almost tips forward at the force with which Diego pulls his arm free from his grip. He’d like to punch the little twerp for saying something so aggravating, but he already looks like he’s standing on shaky legs, so Diego balls his hands into fists in frustration and stares his oldest brother down.

“Don’t be so dramatic, idiot! We’ll come back for her, okay? But for now, we can’t let dad know that we know who she is or give him any information about her. What do you think he’s going to do if he finds out about the Commission? It’s too dangerous for us. And I presume for Lila, too. So, Diego, I need you to let this go!”

Five barely finishes his sentence when everything starts up again.

It feels like a tidal wave crashes in on him as air begins flowing around him again and low humming noises that he would not have noticed before assault his senses.

His father is saying something but Diego can’t hear what it is because Lila, apparently not unconscious, lifts her head and looks right at him.

Diego’s chest feels like someone has cracked it open and his heart has fallen out.

There are spots of red on the gag in her mouth, and dried blood is running from the corner of her mouth down her chin. Her lip is split but that’s not where the blood is coming from, and the top of one of her cheekbones is bruised red and purple and looks slightly swollen.

He doesn’t quite know how he sees it, because he can’t actually tear his eyes away from hers, but he registers that her knuckles are bloodied and bruised and he can guess that the rest of her body is no better but it’s covered in a long sleeved black top and matching pants. Her feet are bare, though.

Even if he wanted to ignore Five’s instructions, he’s not sure he could make his limbs move to go towards her, rooted to the spot by the intensity of Lila’s eyes on him, as she struggles against the cuffs holding her arms and legs to the chair. Her shouts and screams are muffled by the gag, but Diego still thinks he can hear her calling his name, begging him to help her.

He feels sick.

He is staring at Lila and is willing her to use Five’s powers to teleport out of there. He doesn’t even care if she disappears again, as long as she gets away from these ruthless so-called superheroes and his dangerous father. Diego realizes at that moment that some part of him never actually expected to see her again. He thinks he could live with her disappearing for good this time, if only it means that she’s no longer here, in his psychopathic father’s torture chamber, getting interrogated because she made the mistake to come after him.

“She was quite the handful,” Reginald explains, “it seems she has powers of her own. But I have injected her with a mild sedative of my own design that will continue to suppress her powers until we have decided what to do with her.”

Diego’s eyes flit from his father back to Lila and he can feel his heart simultaneously hammering in his throat and the pit of his stomach. His ears are ringing. And once again he is unable to protect someone who is so important to him, like Eudora, like Mom, and in that moment he can feel his eyes stinging with tears that he has to hold back if they don’t want to tip their father off.

“Well, can’t say I’ve seen this woman before, I wouldn’t know why she was asking for us,” Five says, his tone so casual that Diego would almost believe him if he didn’t know it was a complete lie.

“Diego?” Five turns to him, one eyebrow quirked up in question.

His tongue is sticking to the roof of his mouth and his throat is seizing up completely. And all he can do is watch Lila struggling, stare her down, and try as best as he can to communicate to her that this is not real, that they will come back for her, that he made her a promise of family and that they won’t leave her behind.

“Apparently he doesn’t know who she is either.” Five has gotten impatient next to him, waves a hand in what seems to be half a shrug and also half a non-verbal see? and turns back to Reginald.

“If that’s all, I think we’d best be getting back to our siblings. You understand, we’re still reeling a little from arriving in this very unrecognizable time.”

Five doesn’t wait for an answer, instead he turns around towards the door, grabs Diego by the elbow and the last thing he sees as he’s dragged out towards the elevator by his much smaller brother, is Lila beginning to struggle frantically and his father’s very skeptical look.

For some incomprehensible reason they aren’t stopped from leaving the mansion and they only get to round the first corner before Diego doubles over, hands on his knees, and dry heaves into the gutter.

-

Five wants them to wait another day before they go back to the academy to grab Lila as he expects the Sparrows to be on high alert after their visit today, but Diego explains in no uncertain terms that he is going back tonight, with or without his siblings’ help, and even Allison backs him up when she hears about the obvious signs of torture.

The plan is that Diego, Allison, and Five, the best trained at stealth combat out of all of them, go to the mansion, while Luther, Klaus, and Vanya cause a distraction in a different part of the city, hoping to create at least a small window where some or all of the Sparrows are out of the house.

That actually works significantly better than any of them could have expected. Or Reginald knows they’re coming and doesn’t care, and right now, neither does Diego, because for some reason Five blinks into the mansion and only a minute later blinks back out into the alley that they are hiding in, just about able to support a very unconscious Lila for long enough to set her halfway gently down onto the dirty ground.

Diego is by their side in a flash, hands nervously hovering over her body, eventually deciding on supporting her head and stroking the hair out of her slack face.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What did he do to her?” he’s whispering frantically, not actually expecting an answer, but Five pipes up and says, “Oh yeah, that was me.”

Diego freezes and then slowly turns to look up at his brother, thinking he must have misheard.

“What’d you say?” he asks, deliberately making his question sound as threatening as possible, though Allison’s hand that lands heavily on his shoulder does take a little bit of the wind out of his sails.

“Diego, we have no idea why she came here. For all we know she came to finish the job and kill us all -” Diego opens his mouth to protest, but Five just holds up a hand and maybe because Allison squeezes hers on his shoulder, half in warning and half in support, he lets Five finish.

“I just want to make sure we know what we're dealing with and that we’re properly prepared for whatever that might be.”

Diego can actually see the logic in that, it’s not like he hasn’t got good reasons to distrust Lila, but it still doesn’t sit right with him, not after the promise they all made.

So he huffs in annoyance as he snakes his arms under her knees and shoulders and lifts her up easily, maneuvering her until her head is lying against his shoulder, gentle breath tickling his neck, and he is struck by how quickly he’s forgotten how small and skinny she really is with how energetic and forceful she is when awake.

Diego thinks he doesn’t ever want to see her this vulnerable again, but nevertheless the feel of her body against his is an instant comfort for his nerves that have been pulled taut since he first laid eyes on her this afternoon.

-

Diego is livid with his siblings as he paces the tiny floor space in the motel room.

It’s just him and Klaus and Lila, still unconscious, lying on the bed, both wrists cuffed to the frame.

Five’s idea again. All of the siblings whose powers Lila could use to escape have taken their leave while Klaus has been left in charge of the key to the cuffs, because Diego can apparently not be trusted with them. And Five seems to believe Diego wouldn’t go through Klaus to get to them.

He’s thinking for probably the thirtieth time in about as many minutes that he might just like to prove Five wrong on that one, when Lila begins to stir and mumble incoherently.

Klaus, who’s been doing an impressive job of ignoring Diego’s hyperactive fury, stubs out his cigarette and glides over to the foot of the bed where Diego is standing, frozen to the spot, watching Lila come around.

“You fucker!” she says, finally, when she’s managed to pull herself half upright against the headboard where the cuffs are also attached to the decorative cut-outs in the wood.

Diego stares at her, now completely incapable of saying anything.

“You left me to rot in that fucking torture chamber!” she shouts at him then, thrusting her torso forwards as far as she can go to put more force behind her accusation.

That jolts Diego into action and he tries to rush out an explanation when Klaus just talks over him, and Diego is really beginning to resent that, but his brother seems completely unbothered.

“Are you here to murder us, missy?” Klaus asks in the voice of a not particularly strict school matron.

“I fucking might, now! All that talk about family and then you abandon me to those psychopaths! I know you have daddy issues, but I didn’t know you have no fucking spine when it comes to that monster!” She's jangling the cuffs aggressively and Diego’s stomach twists, both at her words but also at how the cold metal is digging into the already reddened skin at her wrists.

“So you’re not here to kill us?” Klaus tries again and it’s almost like he’s cut Lila’s strings with his perfectly even, practically friendly question.

She falls back against the headboard, turns her head away from them, deflated, and says quietly, “no.”

“You wanna hurt any of us?” Klaus adds.

“Yeah, I really do, but I won’t,” Lila grumbles off to the side, clearly more drained than she first let on.

“Wunderbar!” Klaus exclaims and then tosses the key to the handcuffs up in the air and when Diego manages to catch them, only fumbling a little, because this is not what he expected, Klaus is already halfway to the door.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” he shouts over his shoulder as he leaves and slams the door shut behind him and after all of his angry and frantic struggle to get Lila back to their motel and have her wake up, Diego wishes Klaus hadn’t left.

Because, what’s he supposed to do now?

He’s given a clue when Lila shifts, doesn’t look at him, but the motion makes her cuffs clatter against the bed and Diego decides that whatever else he needs to do, the first thing is to let her out of the handcuffs.

He makes his way around the bed, sits down on the edge and leans over her to unlock the cuffs.

Lila doesn’t look at him, just pulls her arms back down now that she has her full motion and cradles her hands against her chest protectively.

Diego notices that her eyes are shining but she’s not blinking very much, probably holding back tears and now he knows even less what he’s supposed to say.

On instinct he thinks that if he can’t talk about things, maybe there’s at least something more immediate he can fix and he gently pulls her hands away from her to inspect her wrists.

Lila lets him, but still doesn’t really acknowledge him.

The skin there is reddened but doesn’t look raw, so Diego rubs it carefully with his thumbs and when Lila flinches he sets her hands into her lap, just glad that she’s not quite so curled up into herself anymore.

He takes a look at her face, they haven’t yet taken care of the cuts and bruising on her cheek and lip. There’s even still the line of dried blood down the side of her mouth.

Momentarily grateful that that gives him something to do, Diego gets up and swiftly makes his way to the small bathroom. He picks up one of the fresh white towels and runs it under lukewarm water and then grabs their meager first aid supplies on his way back into the room.

When he comes back in, Lila is busy cleaning dirt - probably dried blood - out from under her fingernails, but she looks up at him and while it had bothered him before that she was avoiding his eyes, he now feels like the skin on his entire body is heating up as she won’t look away.

Diego sits back down on the side of the bed and half expects her to take the wetted towel and scrub her face with it herself, but instead she is just waiting, chin tilted up a tiny bit, as if in challenge.

Never one to back down, he nods, not quite sure what he’s agreeing with, and lifts the towel up to her face to gingerly wipe the dried blood off.

“You just left me there!” she says coldly and Diego lets his hand drop again.

“We didn’t have a choice...” That sounds like a feeble excuse even to his own ears and Diego drops his head with a sigh.

“Was that some kind of fucked up retaliation for when I left at the barn?” Lila shoots back immediately, sounding far more angry than before.

“What? No!” Diego’s head snaps up to look at her. She’s baring her teeth furiously, the slight pink blotches from where he wasn’t able to properly clean the blood off her face making her look almost wild, but her eyes are shining brightly again and Diego suddenly feels a lump forming in his throat.

“No, Lila! We couldn’t risk my dad finding out about the Commission, if he thought he could have gotten that kind of information out of you, I can’t think about what he might have done! But I didn’t want to leave you there like that, I swear. I was going to help you! I tried to, but Five stopped me!” He’s desperate to get her to understand that the last thing he wanted to do was abandon her after everything she’s been through.

“Well that would have been pretty stupid!”

Lila’s interjection completely stops him in his tracks and Diego can’t help but stare at her a little dumbfounded.

“What?” he says, looking her dead in the eye, her expression a mixture of annoyance and exasperation, but also softer than before.

“Your idiot hero complex could have fucked us all over, huh?” she adds, and Diego is just about to argue when his protest dies away in his throat as Lila moves to tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear and then leaves her hand at the side of his face.

All the tension Diego’s been holding since he first saw Lila tied to that chair, or possibly even earlier, possibly since he saw her disappear out of Sissy’s barn, seeps out of him and he leans heavily against her hand, eyes closing with how drained he suddenly feels.

“You came back for me,” Lila says and Diego doesn’t know how to respond to that other than to cover her hand with his own.

He feels the mattress shift and then without warning her lips press against his and he makes a strangled, involuntary noise at the back of his throat as the intensity of the relief he feels then, for Lila being safe, for her being back with him, is almost painful.

Diego wraps his arms around her and pulls her against himself, deepening their kiss carefully, not wanting to be too forceful considering her injured state, but Lila presses into him hungrily, so Diego tightens his grip on her and very much plans to never let go again.

[wheel-of-fish]

By the Numbers Jöback, Hill, Stolle

By the Numbers:  The Peter Jöback/Samantha Hill/Jeremy Stolle Stream, August 15, 2020

A more timely roundup!  The things that can be accomplished without a kitten on your head!

This was a fascinating boot, featuring a Phantom with a lovely Swedish accented tenor voice, Samantha “too sweet to be hot, except to the Phantom” Hill, and release-the-thirst-floodgates Jeremy Stolle.  The Stolle thirst was boundless.  The Stolle thirst was all encompassing.  There was scarcely a vocal phrasing, gesture, line read or body part that was not only mentioned but gushed over.  I did not even begin to count the ways.  Every category would have been “greater than infinity”.  And, every comment was true.  This man delivered!  From the height of his tallness to the depths of his deep baritone, Stolle was on a roll in this boot.  The boot itself was very good quality, only one large Head occasionally swallowing the action like a black hole.  Very worth seeing!  The passion of the AIAOY Kiss is matched only by the physics involved in making it happen between oh so tall Stolle and oh so small Hill.  But true love always finds a way!

Suggested names for this boot:  Jöback in Black Boot, IKEA Phantom Boot, Stolle the Show Boot (Okay, nobody suggested these.  It was me.  I suggested these. The first one was from Fish’s password for this stream, though!)

Statistician’s Favorite Boot Name:  The FÅNTØM Boot (again, nobody’s suggestion but mine, spelling courtesy of missbuster)

Wow, we like to talk about Phantoms:  Well this week, we seemed to talk about everybody except other Phantoms.  Oh sure, some were mentioned, but let’s mix it up and see what other names were dropped this week.  Supply your own context for even greater amusement, because heaven knows you won’t find it here.  These numbers are a lot more accurate because, again, no kitten on head this week.  It occurs to me that instead of meticulous record keeping, I could just make crap up.  Not this week.  Maybe next week.  All these people were genuinely mentioned in this week’s stream.

Carly Rae Jepsen (7), Vin Diesel (1), John Travolta (3), Antonio Banderas (5), Hugh Jackman (3), Ian McKellen (3), Judy Dench (1), Emmy Rossum (2), Anne Hathaway (4), Russell Crowe (3), Patrick Wilson (1), James Corden (1), Rebel Wilson (1), Hadley Fraser (1), Kelly O’Hara (1), Francesca Hayward (1), Michael Gruber (1)

Fond mentions of 1998 “Cats”:  6

Mentions of 2019 “Cats”:  12 (I have left out any adjectives as most were Not Charitable.)

Opinions that “Cats” should only be done as an animation:  2

Oh, hey, yeah, another Phantom, mentions of Gerard Butler:  5 (I have left out any adjectives as most were along the lines of Bless His Heart)

Oh, hey, yeah, another Phantom, mentions of Paul Stanley:  14 (I have left out any adjectives as most were somewhere between Not Charitable and Bless His Heart)

Wishes for Rose to have good luck on her date while the rest of us stayed glued to our monitors on a Saturday night:  9

Inappropriate Random Zoom:  to Christine’s dressing table during Raoul’s visit (not NEARLY as inappropriate as the Random Zoom to Barbara the mannequin’s doors of summer during last week’s stream.)

Self-Caress mentions:  3 (The Phantom.  The PHANTOM.  Not whatever you were thinking.)

What scent are the Phantom’s candles:  Hopeless Mist (no, the Phantom’s candles were not discussed this week.  As the creator of the candle line which includes Underground Despair, I have decided to use this statistical summary to focus group test additional scentsations suitable for the Phantom’s Lair.  You are warned that this may be an Ongoing Feature.)

For Science mentions:  6

Boner mentions: 2 (I will not name names, you know who you are)

Apparent confirmation of boner mentions by people noticing Christine looking down during The Sprawl:  3

Is there any safe way to say that boner mentions are ummm trending downward?:  No

Unofficial Dialogue:  “TA DAAA” when the Phantom reveals the mirror bride (courtesy Wheel-of-fish, who just barely beat haunted-hideaway to it)

Outrageous Rumors Category: 

“Carly Rae Jepsen as Meg…..A dream”—deardaaery

“Carly Rae Jepsen played Meg???” –mrskroger

“I love how these streams can be used to start outrageous rumors”—Aldebaran

“rushing to tumblr to tell everyone about carly rae jepsen playing meg”—Wheel-of-fish

“Vin Diesel played Raoul, fact”—Aldebaran

IKEA mentions:  10

Suggestions for additional characters Jeremy Stolle could play in the All Stolle Show (phantom-of-the basement):  Mirror Bride (christinegrrl), Monkey Music Box (Flora-Gray), Madame Firmin (ktarinajones)

Everyone’s a critic:  “First review for the all stolle show has to be “he stolle the show” otherwise it’s a missed opportunity”—butdreamsofbeauty

The Phantom’s pillows mentions:  7

People of the opinion that the Phantom should use one of his 600 pillows as a cushion for fainted Christine’s head:  2 (question and number of pillows estimated by ashadeintheshade)

Vintage madamefaust on the Pillow Question:

Look, he took a long time arranging those pillows.  They’re from Pier One, they’re expensive, he doesn’t want to put them on the floor.

Erik has skillz:

“You know he’s handy.  Everything is probably homemade. Bitch can sew a hem.”—Melancholy’s Child

“Erik as a contestant on Project Runway”—Benny-Lynne

“I’m convinced he hand-sewed the Red Death costume.”—haunted-hideaway

“Five and half months working on that Red Death cosplay”—yamiangie

“has a “Red Death” pintrest”—blahahala                              

Outrageous Rumors Part Two:

“The pillows are hot-glued to the boat”—wheel-of-fish

People who fell for the Phantom hot-gluing pillows to the boat:  4

Outrageous Rumors Part Three                                          

“Carly Rae Jepsen hot glued those pillows”—wheel-of-fish

We stan a crafty Phantom:

“I just like the idea of Erik with a glue gun”—wheel-of-fish

 “erik bedazzling things”—butdreamsofbeauty

 “He  DEFINITELY has a bedazzler.”—madamefaust

 “erik bedazzles his own capes”—christinegrrl

 “erik with a staple gun putting pillows on a boat:  KACHUNK”—        phantomofthebasement

Barbara Speaks:

   “Being a mirror bride must be a hard job”—mrskroger

   “damn straight”—the-real-barbara

Rare Don Atillio appreciation mention: 1

Andre’s probable fear of ballerinas mentions:  6 (as suggested by madamefaust)

Andre’s issue gets a name:  Tutuphobia—Aldebaran

Possible alternate ending for POTO:

There’s like 8 ballerinas….if they all came together the Phantom would have no chance.—hell-lawliet

That’s why Buquet always carries a noose, fear of ballerinas–Aldebaran

AIAOY Kiss comments:  45 comments in 24 seconds

Requests for AIAOY Kiss replay:  6 (replay occurred)

Incorrect use  of the Raoul as an International Unit of Measure:  1 (I misstated in the stream that Christine would be 1.62 Raouls in height.  This is clearly false, as it would make her much taller than Raoul, who is already impossibly tall.  Using as our values Mr. Stolle at 6’3” and Ms. Hill at 5’4”, Christine’s height expressed in Raouls would be .8533 Raouls.  The statistician regrets the error.  This is why maybe I should just make crap up next time.  No, I will not convert the heights to the metric system.)

Debut of IKEA Phantom: 

“And the Phantom is just quietly weeping in the angel because…even he knows that is a hard act to follow”—madamefaust

“That is a kiss to cause a Phantom mental breakdown for sure”—Flora-Gray

“oh no the ikea phantom becomes unassembled”—Aldebaran

“he wasn’t anchored to the wall”—Benny-Lynne

“Someone get the allen wrench, we need to put back together a saad boi”—haunted-hideaway

Unholy Trinity of Cooper/Thiago/Uwe mentions:  1 (by madamefaust, who perhaps is protected by the sheer power of her vast Phannish humor and talent.  Please do not invoke the Unholy Trinity on a whim yourself.)

Respect given to Steve Barton in the form of “Fs”:  11 (entirely appropriate at any time but especially during a boot with such a stellar Raoul)

Red Death as a Swedish Fish mentions:  3 (not to his face, never to his face)                                         

 “tiny swedish fish red death”—Aldebaran

 “HE IS A SWEDISH FISH”—madamefaust

 “the most dramatic swedish fish”—butdreamsofbeauty

Best from Onthevirg’s Mom:  “We should talk about Phantom Jaws”

Fathering Gaze lyric:  1

Split decision on the statement by mrskroger that Wandering Child has a strong Daddy’s Home vibe:

*Strong NO from Wheel-of-fish

*Strong YES from Benny-Lynne

That staff tho: 

“Fire Pez One.  Fire Pez Two.”—Aldebaran

“Skeletor Pez Dispenser”—DoCTy

“I wonder what it’s like to be that dramatique that you fashion a staff that shoots fire”—haunted-hideaway

“He probably bedazzled the staff as well”—Aldebaran

“oh he definitely bedazzled it”—christinegrrrl

“ ‘bedazzled staff’ definitely sounds like something hmm”—onthevirg

Number of audience cell phone rings at insanely crucial moments:  1

Attempting to bring Logic to PONR:

“I know it’s a plot device, but who has a hood that big, really?”—haunted-hideaway

“THIS IS THE EXACT SAME MAN.  MUCH STEALTH.  SUPER INCOGNITO”—madamefaust

“Yeah, I don’t know guys…I don’t think that’s Piangi…?” —Flora-Gray

“yeah swedish italian accent is a giveaway”–Aldebaran

Education of the Innocent:

“ok, I don’t know The Lore, why do we call her Barbara”—butdreamsofbeauty

“Haunted named her in a stream.  She said: ‘Her name is Barbara and she had hopes and  dreams once.’  I said I would never forget it and I have not.”–Aldebaran

The mob storms IKEA:

“time to flat pack the FÅNTØM”—missbuster

“So you’re saying Stolle should just squash the Phantom” —GlassPrism

“he comes apart for easy handling”—missbuster

“Get the Allen wrench”—madamefaust

Reactions to the Phantom after Christine’s final exit: 37 comments in 59 seconds

Sad comment is sad: We don’t even need the allen wrench, he came apart on his own.   –  madamefaust

Things I wish I had said:

“Moist Raoulette”—haunted-hideaway

“no Tol Raol Pol?”—missbuster,  at not seeing Raoul boating away post Final Lair

“No Stolle Tolle Rolle Polle?”—missbuster, with continued disappointment                          

Dreams do come true:

You know.  If you had told 14 year old me that in the future I could watch Phantom EVERY WEEKEND I would have died on the spot—missbuster

Statistician Aldebaran’s two no three favorite personal quotes:   

re: Jöback “He crawls with an accent”

 “Raoul conveniently wore a ladder jacket to make it easier for Christine to climb” 

 “Erik is just in a perpetual state of PONR”

Thank you as always for the submission, kind statistician Aldebaran!

[brightening-glance]

So I was inspired by @kiragecko to create a floor plan of Wayne Manor. I started out trying to be accurate to the comics, but eventually gave up because it changed so many times that was impossible. This is more like the manor shown in recent comics, specifically from when Dick and Damian were Batman and Robin, but I also pulled references from a bunch of different comics and from different timelines and the Gotham tv show. At this point this is the floor plan for the mashed up canon that exists in my head. Aside from @kiragecko’s own floor plan, other references included Biltmore, Filoli, Casa Loma, The Breakers, Rosecliff, Marble House, and Darlington/Crocker Mansion. I tried to make it mostly to scale, although I hand drew this and then cleaned it up digitally, so it’s probably a little off in some places. Blue text is what the current Wayne/Batfamily use the rooms for, green is what the historical use was, and black is what they’d likely be listed as on a real estate listing. Green doors are hidden or jib doors, basically doors that aren’t obvious but don’t require a pass code to get through or lead to the Batcave. Purple “doors” are the secret passages like the one hidden behind the grandfather clock that even an observant bystander shouldn’t be able to find and involve much more security. More explanations under the cut. 

So the comics are unclear on how the Waynes got Wayne Manor. They say that Nathan van Derm designed it for Darius Wayne, but then also that Darius’s grandsons, Solomon and Joshua, purchased it after Jerome van Derm died. At some point after Joshua died (in 1860), the manor was abandoned and Solomon’s son Alan (Bruce’s great-great-grandfather) rebuilt it. 

In my head, the east and west wings of the W would have been later editions. The first version of the manor, up to at least when Alan Wayne rebuilt it, would have probably just been the central portion, out to the 2 towers. Original kitchen would have been in the basement, as well as additional servants quarters. It’s not shown on the plans, but in this version the basement has been renovated to include a gym, movie room, and game area (leaving aside the much cooler basement underneath.) Also not pictured is the third floor/attic, which includes servants quarters and a third floor sitting room above Thomas Wayne’s den that looks out over the front lawn. 

With the east and west wings, you can see the very clear divisions in purpose. The west wing was a guest wing, probably added when serious entertaining became a thing, with a dedicated ballroom and guest bedrooms. The east wing downstairs was the servants’ wing - kitchen, staff dining room, butler’s pantry, bedrooms for upper household staff. East wing upstairs was the children’s/nursery wing. 

In the center of the house you can see a male/female divide that went with the historical idea of some rooms (billiard room/smoking room/study/library) being “men’s spaces” and some (drawing room/morning room) being “women’s spaces. The bedrooms for the permanent residents of the manor in the 1860s (Solomon and his wife, Joshua, Celestine) follow this divide as well, though unlike other “great houses” Wayne manor didn’t go so far as to have a separate bachelor’s wing. 

Regarding the jib doors vs secret passageways - secret passageways are basically entrances to the batcave, although they would’ve also been used by Solomon and Joshua as part of the underground railroad. Off the servery you can see the entrance to the wine cellar where Joshua’s body was eventually found. The jib doors (in green) would have been used by servants or family members to pass between rooms without going into the main hallways. Great for sneaking up on people!

Ok, going into some more specifics - headcanon time! Basically everything beyond this is just in my head, and the Batfam stuff is set at some point in the future. (It’s a really shame they stopped writing Batman Comics right after Bruce came back from they dead. Ric? Ric who? don’t know what you’re talking about). 

First, Celestine Wayne. Celestine Wayne is not a comic character. She was loosely inspired by the history of the Waynes from Gotham the tv show, and by loosely I mean her name and the fact that she lived during the Civil War era. There is a C.L. Wayne from that time period who founded the Gotham Botanical Garden in the comics, and in my head they are definitely the same person. In the Wayne family tree in my head her father was Caleb Wayne, and she was Solomon and Joshua’s cousin who became their ward for.......reasons undecided yet. Her father was leading wagon trains and so never home. Something else happened. You pick! She never married (imagine whatever reason you want here, I tend to stay away from the tv show explanation and go with she just wasn’t interested, but any reason works) and so when she became an adult and was still living at the manor but not the “lady of the house” the floor plan was slightly modified to give her her own suite of rooms. Joshua Wayne has something similar in the sense of having his own private study next to his room, although his were only connected by secret passage. Sometime between Dick moving out and Tim moving in permanently, Dick moved from his childhood room into these rooms (leaving Tim free to move into his old bedroom, a thing that actually happened in the comics). Maybe this happened when he was adopted? Maybe when he and Bruce kinda reconciled after Bruce got his back broken? Who knows! There was definitely a period where to Dick the Manor was Not His Home Anymore, and so in his mind he probably didn’t have a permanent room there (and tried to avoid staying there). Think of the moving to the “grown up full suite” as a really old fashioned way of Bruce or Alfred or both saying “I recognize you’re an adult with your own life and autonomy and I cannot treat you like a child, but also this is your home and you will always have a permanent place here.”

Other rooms of note - most mansions I referenced did not have a dedicated armoury, but it’s Batman! Of course there’s an armoury. For historical artifacts, a lot of these weapons sure seem functional......

The tea room was not originally a tea room but somewhere along the way at least one of the Wayne matriarchs was very fond of afternoon tea. With Alfred in the manor it is definitely a Space for Afternoon Tea, although it also gets used for other meals occasionally and Alfred will do a lot of his meal planning/any other paperwork there, even though he technically has an office. 

When Thomas and Martha were alive, there were actually full time staff living at the manor beyond Alfred and the staff quarters got used, and the “servant’s hall” actually got used as a staff dining room, but now this is where the family members tend to gather if there’s too many of them to just eat in the kitchen. (In my head, Wayne Manor during Thomas and Martha’s life is basically the Wayne Manor described by @unpretty who has written some of my favorite Batman fics ever.)

When Bruce was growing up, Thomas Wayne’s den was the “casual family living room” that every other sitting room in the manor was not, and after he died Bruce couldn’t bear to touch anything in it and avoided it unless he was doing some hardcore brooding. When he moved back/took in Dick, he converted one of the bedrooms to a tv room because he wanted a space that was casual and none of the other spaces felt like a tv belonged in them, but he still couldn’t go in his father’s den. As things have gotten better, and also as Tim and Damian’s relationship improved and Tim started coming around more, Bruce was finally ready to let this go and this became basically Tim’s workspace for whenever he’s at the manor. Bruce will work on stuff in there if Tim is in there, but he still doesn’t spend a lot of time in there on his own. (Ok, this was a little bit inspired by a Rebirth comic, don’t know which one, not gonna find it, I’m sure the rest of it was silly). Bruce tends to use the study downstairs if he’s working on W.E. work or other stuff like that. Jason and Dick’s go to places for any type of homework (when they were living at the manor) or any other work they might have to sit down and do are one of the libraries or wherever Bruce or Alfred are, depending on their mood and what they’re working on, and how long they’ve been living at the manor. 

I’m pretty sure Martha Wayne painting/drawing is canon, but I don’t remember the comic it was referenced in. Anyway, she turned what was being used as a sunroom into her art studio because it had the best light. With Damian in the manor it’s slowly being reclaimed by art supplies.

There are definitely rolling mirrors and freestanding barres in the ballroom that Cass uses for dance practice.

Not pictured: the massive garage, stables, tennis courts, basketball courts, gardens, pond, and basically everything on the grounds. 

If anyone is curious about what comic panels I referenced (or ignored), or what real world rooms/houses inspired specific parts, shoot me a message! Also, feel free to use this in art/fics/whatever if you want a reference!

[pal-perry]

The Unfinished Mansion (A.K.A. The Pink Palace)

So about a week ago, I started out making this cute little tutor house with 1 bath and 2 bedrooms. Now don’t ask me where my aspirations went or what my thought process veered off to in the middle of this build. 

For some stupid reason, I decided to change the small tutor home into a mansion which was near the area where I grew up. As a child, I was only in this mansion once. So I really don’t know the full lay-out of the estate.

I purposely didn’t take any pictures of the front of the house beacuse I removed the front door - which gave the sim I’m playing free access to go in to take pictures. So once I’m completely done, I’ll have a full frontal photo as well.

Since I started this build, I really haven’t played much of my game. Yes, this has taken up a great deal of my time - causes some stress at things which didn’t want to set the way I wanted them. 

One thing I’ve learned with building has to do with landscaping. I encourage everyone to follow a simple rule: DO NOT PUT BIG TREES NEAR THE BUILD. If you do, before sharing your build to the gallery, check to make sure the tree isn’t blocking the view of your build. I know it’s my personal issue, but when I can’t see what’s behind the tree, I don’t know what I’m looking at in your creation.

One thing I can say about this build is that I hope you like the fact that my sim took some pictures so we all can get a mini virtual tour of this home. If I could only get my sim to have the camera in video mode and walk throughout the house, it would save a lot of time!!! But NO!!!

Now here is the main floor hallway from the front to the back/side door leading out to the patio/deck area.

I tried to keep it more on the victorian side, as the actual mansion was built in the 1800′s.

The den or study - what ever room you want to call it I think was the most spacious. There were rumors that the actual mansion had a hidden room off from the study. What it was used for or how to get to it, I have no clue. So I did create a secret door leading to the basement. Currently, as I post this - the second, third or basement have not been finished in my build. 

The one room I do recall vividly was the front parlor or piano room. I was awestruck when I walked through doorway of this room. Just seeing the huge grand piano had me mesmerized.

Off from the front parlor was the gentlemen’s lounge - with a full stocked bar and a couple of small couches. My eyes were lit up like big balloons just taking in all the beauty this house entailed.

In the actual mansion, not everything, not every room or objects were pink. When I switched from building a small tutor house to this huge mansion, I decided I wanted a house a drag queen would feel like a queen in her own little palace. So pink became the magic color throughout the entire estate.

The dining room was huge!!! In the actual mansion there was a huge - what looked like - bear skin rug under the table.

And this was the first time I ever heard of a butler’s pantry. Off from the kitchen was a huge butler’s pantry which lead into the kitchen.

This room has to be about a 12 foor by 10 foot room with nothing but cabinets, countertops and cupboards.

During my short visit to this home, I learned a lot. To this day, I don’t know if the lady whom I was talking with was actually the owner, owner’s wife or daughter, maid, butler or hired help. But who ever she was she was very pleasant and let me have a few cookies from the kitchen.

When I continue with this build, I’ll have to put a cookie jar some where in the kitchen for nastalgic aspects.

In the actual mansion, the kitchen wasn’t set up this way. Yet I didn’t design this one either. this kitchen was one of the premade ones created by EA. 

From my understanding, the entire area back by the kitchen was strictly for the servants/employees/butler. I don’t know what was in the basement or up any of the stair cases. So all of that will be what I design.

Also, there is one room which I never did get to see. That would be the formal living room. So I just created this room in what could be the layout of the living room.

So what do you think of this virtual tour so far? Boring? Interesting? Please comment and let me know.

One thing that was always a mystery to me was the smaller building away from the house and the catwalk-gallow to the second level of the house. Now, I don’t know if this is true or not, but in a way it does make sense.

From what I understand, it used to be a garage. The lady of the house was very popular and to keep away from prying eyes, also she wanted to ensure her dress and hair wouldn’t get messed up as she entered her vehicle during bad weather. As years passed, the garage was converted into the butler’s quarters.

The deck/patio on this mansion is huuuugggge! 

With these last photos you can see more of the Butler’s Quarters. I actually should have made that area a bit bigger. I think it’s a bit cramped. Who knows, I just might make that bigger next time I work on it.

The classic (black) car which you can barely see trough the railing and the Sports (Dark Gray) car were created by #sshaw101 and the Gray Sport Car by #gramkasandra

So far I’ve put about 20 hours into this and I think I’m about halfway done. When I saved it to my gallery, it was valued at 231,000. Yes, that is furnished and decorated.

As I complete the basement, second and third levels of this build, I’ll try to do another virtual tour. Kinda like a realitor selling property.

Well, once I’m done completely with this build, I hope your sim can afford to move in and enjoy the comforts!

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Luimivaria

Summary: Cold, is what his stare should feel like when he gives you a nasty look. But somehow on him, it looks warm and inviting. He never means it when it comes to you.

Jaebeom X Reader

Series

The cold stare is something inevitable from Jaebeom. I’ve known it my whole life, I was born into the service, my father before me serving the King. It is my destiny to lead the same life, sadly. Except, the prince I serve is not like what my father told me he would be like. You see the king before him was ruthless, he told me to hold my tongue around the crowned prince. To never speak unless spoken to, to never voice my opinions. Yet, Lim Jaebeom always asks for my opinion, wondering if he is doing the right thing. He always wants advice, his father chooses not to give him. Though he did inherit his father’s cold stare when you give him an opinion he doesn’t like. A stare my father warned me about because many of his friends were beheaded after seeing that stare. How my father puts up with all the shit the king gave him I have no clue. I would be beheaded on the spot, I’m very strong-headed and my opinions are loud and clear. Something that Jaebeom likes, which is intriguing. 

---

Two hours earlier, we were sparing in the basement, more of a fight fueled by anger. “I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love, (Y/n)! Why don’t you get that!” I’m so thankful that I have my golden armor on because his strike is deadly. Leaving a huge dent where my heart lies. “My Prince, you must understand that your father does what is best for you. I have no choice but to follow his orders.” He lets out a yell, “That’s not what I want to hear--.” I glare as I start moving towards him my stance lowered as I swing my sword at him. “You sound just like your father--” That’s when he screams, “I’m not my father, I will never be my father!” That’s when he knocks me down, realizing what he has done he throws his sword onto the ground. He places my head onto his lap, “I-I’m sorry… I know your right, I just don’t,... I don’t understand,... why he would push something onto me,... and then you-you of all people agree with him. I thought,... I--nevermind.” I sigh and raise my hand to his jaw, “Let’s talk about this in your office. When you’re ready, I’ll tell you my real opinion.” He sighs, “Okay,... give me about two hours,... I’m sorry for denting your metal, I could have--” he shakes his head at the thought. “I’ll order you new armor.” I nod, knowing what he wanted to say without him having to hear him say it. I get up and hold out my hand for him to grab. He looks up at me with teary eyes before grabbing my hand and I pull him up. “I’ll take you to your office. After lunch, we’ll talk okay?” He nods and I lead him up to his room. 

After lunch, I step inside his study room. “You really think that I should marry someone I don’t love?” I sigh, we’re back on this subject. I didn’t expect him to jump right into the subject. “My Prince--Jaebeom, I don’t agree with his idea at all. I think you should marry who you love, but that is conversation reserved for you and your father.” He rolls his eyes and tilts his head backward. “You know my father,... but what if the person I love isn’t of my status.” I sigh as I sit in front of his desk, the metal clanking together as I cross my arms over my chest plate. “You’re gonna be the King soon, right?” He nods, “What does that have to do with this?” I smile at him, his cold stare unnerving but no longer unsettling. “You get to decide who you marry when you become King, your father will no longer have a say.” It’s almost like I can see the gears turning in his head. “You’ll be the ruler, you’ll be higher than your father, he can’t decide for you at that point. So either tell your father the truth or tell him that you’ll want to wait till your King to marry.” The smirky smile that takes place on his face is something I could stare at forever. 

I’m just a royal guard, I’m only here to guard the prince and train him for potential wars. I chide myself for even thinking about his smile. He excuses me to write a letter to his father, and I’m stuck at my post again. I cover up my dent not wanting anyone to think Jaebeom and I got into another scrimmage. Bambam’s guard, Jisoo waves at me, I laugh and wave back. She mouths to me, “How did it go?” I shake my head and mouth back, “Like normal” She pouts, “What about you?” I mouth, she's been crushing on Tyler, Bambam’s butler since I met her. Just like how I have a teeny-tiny crush on Jaebeom. She grins and mouths excitedly pointing to her cheek, “He kissed my cheek!” I grin and air five her. Bambam comes out of his room, Tyler follows close behind and he thanks Tyler for a letter. He asks Jisoo to guide him into the town. I wonder how his love adventure is going. 

Jaebeom calls me from inside his room and asks me to read the letter. I read it over, it’s about how he is going to wait till he is King to marry. That his father shouldn’t worry because he already has his eyes set on someone. My heart breaks, I know it’s not me, but I guess it would be silly to be hopeful. Yet, my heart still screams that I still might have a chance. Because after all his crush is of a lower status than him, being a royal guard I’m only a step lower than him in class. So, maybe? No, I sigh internally knowing that he probably likes someone in the kingdom. I smile at him, although it doesn’t reach my eyes, “Do you want me to send it?” He nods, “Yes, as long as you think it’s well-written.” I nod, “It is my prince-'' He sighs, “You know to call me Jaebeom.” I nod, “My apologies, Jaebeom.” He nods, “Just don’t forget again,” he says with a wink and my knees almost buckle. “I’ll send this right off,” he nods and I leave him be, he did not just wink at me. My heart is pounding as I walk down the steps and look over at the clock. Just in time, I open the door to see the mailman jump off his horse. I smile and hand him Jaebeom’s letter, “Send this to the King of Luimivaria .” He nods, “Will do,” I nod and make my way back up the steps as Jaebeom exits his study. Jaebeom joins Jinyoung and Jackson at the dining table. I take my post leaning against the cleaning supply closet.

My father told me to never fall for the crowned prince. The truth is, I don’t think anyone expected Jaebeom to be his own person. That makes me angry because Jaebeom is like no other. He’s strong, independent, kind and fierce. He knows a fight worth fighting for, he is wise beyond his years. Yet, no one saw that coming, they thought he would follow his father’s footsteps. His father is a man of war and refuses to hear people's opinions unless they coincide with his own. Although as he has gotten older he has gotten softer; he even listens to his son's opinions although he doesn’t like them. Jaebeom is a man of peace but he does enjoy the riot. I love that about him he always wants to know what others think, even if they are criticisms. He will hear them out and give them his own. I’ve known him since birth and I’ve grown up with him. I know he is anything but his father, perhaps that’s why I fell for him. Or maybe it was the fact that when he would play in the garden. While I was training to be his guard and he would rush over and hand me flowers. Telling me that I was prettier than all the flowers in the garden. He has never failed to bring a smile to my face. Even if he wears that cold stare, that’s inevitable but definitely has no meaning, at least when it comes to me. I’ll never be in his arms but he’ll always be in my heart. 

--

I meet him in the training room the next morning. It seems as we’ve gotten older we’ve both become more cunning because we’re testing each other. Seeing who will be the first to fall, neither of us wearing armor. Any deadly strike will kill, yet the energy in the room seems joyful. As we spar coming close to each other’s vitals, we laugh. I catch him off guard and slice his finger open. My eyes nearly pop out of my head, and he just smirks. “You think you can lay a hand on me? I’m the crowned prince of Luimivaria .” His cockiness paired with his movements are faster than my brain can process. He has me pinned to the stone, the tip of his sword resting under my chin. I run a hand through my hair a mischievous glint in my eyes, as I grab his shoulder and spin us around. His sword drops to the floor, not expecting my swift movements. “You might be good, but as the royal guard to the Prince of Luimivaria , I’ll always have the upper hand.” I smirk as I pin him to the stone, he laughs, “I guess you’re right,...” that’s when he takes both of his hands that I didn’t think to hold down. Shoving me to the ground, “NOT! Got to try harder than that, baby.” You’d think I’d be gasping from how hard I took the fall, no, that nickname has me down for the count. “You win, Jaebeom” I wink at him as he rolls off of me and we burst into laughter. 

I turn my head to look over at him to see him already rolled over on his side looking at me. I let out a mutter, “I wish I could spend every day like this with you.” I didn’t realize he was that close to be able to make out what I had said. “Me too” 

--

A week later a letter for him arrives, I rush it up to his study. It's from his father he reads it out loud to me. “What you said made me think, I asked the King of Alimentor, Sir Park. He told me that his daughters have already married people whom they loved. So I asked him ‘what about Jinyoung?’, he said that Jinyoung is allowed to marry who he wants. If they’re going to spend the rest of their lives with someone might as well be someone they love. I never thought about it like that, I thought that you need someone with a high status to successfully rule. Because my father told me who was right for me was your mother. But maybe that’s not right for me to push onto you. I’ll let you decide my son, choose someone who makes you happy.” He stops there, the grin that is on his face is beautiful. He looks up at me, “Can I tell you something?” I nod, “Anything, my-- Jaebeom.” He grins, “I’m overly happy right now. I can’t believe my father has agreed with me. That I’m allowed to marry whoever I want. I thought it would take more encouragement.” I nod, “Your father has gotten softer over the years,...” He smiles and gets up from behind his desk, and hugs me. I freeze up, not expecting it before I melt completely in his arms. Hugging him back I tell him softly, “I’m so happy for you, Jaebeom.” 

After a few minutes of just sitting there in comfortable silence, he asks me softly, “Do you want to know who I love?” I nod, “I would love to hear it Jaebeom,” he grins, “It’s you.” My jaw drops, “Really?” His eyes crinkle as he smiles, “Really really” I pull him into me and kiss his forehead, “I love you too, Jaebeom.” He looks down at my lips and I nod, and his lips feel like royal velvet. I kiss him back and I blush, “Jaebeom, would you dance with me?”

--

Jisoo’s jaw drops when I tell her that Jaebeom felt the same for me. When she tells me that Bambam agreed for Tyler and her that they may room with each other. We giddily talk, before someone taps my shoulder I look over and it’s Jaebeom. “I want to tell the guys,” I grin and peck his cheek. He giggles and I wave goodbye to Jisoo and she smiles at me. 

“I can’t believe you finally told them, Jaebeom.” Bambam, let’s out shocked, as Jaebeom holds my hand. My heart is racing a mile a minute, “When are you gonna ask the president out?” Bambam looks down, “I don’t know yet,... Maybe sometime soon.” His sigh is loud and clear and Jinyoung ruffles the poor kid's hair. “We’re happy for you, Jaebeom” 

I can’t believe this is happening, somebody pinch me. In a few months, Jaebeom will be crowned King. Everything will change but I know it’ll be good. I think to myself as we spin around in the living room. I always dreamed about this, ever since we were little. But my father said it wasn’t possible, but now I know he was wrong. I have Jaebeom in my arms, there is nothing in the world I would trade this for.

--

The ceremony starts, Jaebeom has been training for this moment for weeks now. Only taking breaks when I would whisk him away to look at the garden’s beautiful flowers. Handing him a pretty pink tulip, “I saw this and I thought of you.” I tell him as he places it behind his ear and finds a little yellow daffodil and places it behind my ear. “You always know how to cheer me up, (Y/n).” I watch with tears in my eyes, Jaebeom is going to be King. What does that mean for me? I think to myself as he drinks from the goblet. I can’t help but be hopeful for the future as I watch him deliver his speech to the Kingdom. That’s my Jaebeom, strong, courageous, cute, and confident. 

I stand alert at my post, not wanting anyone to ruin his special day. He kneels as the crown is placed on his head. Hoots and hollers are heard all around as everyone gathers to congratulate him. I watch everyone carefully, as the kingdom kneels before him as he walks down the aisle his head held high. He catches my eye with a wink. I shake my head at him, that dastardly devil. 

When the ceremony ends he rushes over to me and squeezes me into a big hug, “Can you believe I’m King!?” I laugh and grin as I hug him back, “Yes, My King, Jaebeom.” He laughs, “I thought I told you not to--” I smirk at him, “You told me not to call you ‘My Prince’ if I remember correctly, Jaebeom.” He shakes his head, he puts his head into my rose gold shoulder piece. The new armor he issued for me sparkles under the chandelier’s lights. I hold him in my arms and my heart beats frantically. He pulls away slightly and grabs my hands and guides me into a dance. We dance around the palace, laughing, this is a dawn of a new era for Luimivaria . My heart pounds out of my chest with the way he looks at me. He grins at me as we spin around the marble floors. “I can finally marry you” I look down at my feet and back up at him with a smile. “Yes, you can. When you pop the question I’ll say yes.” He leans in capturing my lips in a kiss. I release his hands and shove them into his hair pulling him into me. When we pull away from each other I can’t help but giggle, “I love you, Jaebeom” He kisses my nose, “I love you too, (Y/n).”  

-- (Bonus) -- 

His father and mine were shocked, to say the least when Jaebeom told them that I’m the one he wants to marry. Needless to say, it is going to be hell to find a guard that can protect us better than we can protect each other. The dancing and sword fights never ended, they became more heartfelt. Dropping our weapons to makeout in the middle of the arms room. Dancing to the King’s orchestra that plays in the background. So lost in each other, I feel so bad for Matty that has to guard us now. Because it’s hard to guard moving targets, especially when they’re so enraptured in each other.

[sweetdejun]

coterie: three

gang!x1 x fem!reader

synopsis: you’re an ordinary girl, with an ordinary life. but what happens when you catch the gang that is famous for keeping their deeds under the table, in action?

coterie’s masterlist can be found here

you were no longer bound with ropes, nor was the cloth restricting your mouth from speaking coherently. you were now being guided out of the dark room, up a set of stairs, where the gradient from the darkness to bright lights became clearer. you were in the basement of wherever you were. as the man leads you out, you find yourself walking through a lavish hallway, with marble tiles under your feet contrasting against the white and gold decor around the house. your mouth drops open as you walk into probably, no, the biggest living room you’ve ever seen. two sets of staircases lead up on either side to a separate floor of the residence. “welcome to the x1 mansion.” the man says, standing behind you with his hands in his pocket. “I’m afraid I haven’t introduced myself,” you watch closely as he approaches closer to you. by instinct, you move back with every step forward he takes until your back hits the cushion of a couch. he reaches out to offer a handshake. “I’m seungwoo. han seungwoo, and I am the leader of the gang. it’s nice to formally meet you..” you hesitate to give him your name, and you don’t shake his hand. this causes him to close his hand, clutching the fingers together and forming a fist, then said hand goes back into his pocket and he cracks up. “don’t be scared, you’ve done the right thing. at least you’re not dead. now, let’s try that one more time. it’s nice to meet you...” “y-y/n y/l/n.” you stutter out, keeping your eyes glued to the tile, not daring to look back at him in the eye. “y/n. there’s one thing you should know: after today, everything that was once you will not be you anymore, or until we’re done with you. we’ll speak with your school, and they will allow you to take a gap year or two. don’t ask me why I know this, someone on the school board owes me a favor, so school: don’t worry about that. as for your friends and family, I wouldn’t dare let you leave the house and meet them just yet, so I would rather you call who you want to and speak with them.” he saunters over to the kitchen from the living room, you following his steps with caution. he grabs an apple and bites into it before saying, “because also after today, I’m changing your SIM card and I’ll deactivate your personal phone number temporarily. now, it means your sole focus and purpose will be to do as I say. and trust me, with the way we’ve been watching you this past week, it would be foolish to not put you in this mission. you’re skilled, y/n, whether you know it or not.” seungwoo looks at you and you see maybe a glint of hope in his eyes. “so, in short, yes you can speak to whoever you need to speak to. you have a few hours, then we’ll have jinhyuk drop your things by this evening. also, we have a spare room for you to stay in. that will be yours from today on. I can show you where that is, follow me.” a million things are going through your head right now, but that doesn’t change the fact that you trail closely behind seungwoo up the carpeted stairs, into a smaller area, then a hallway, where he then opens the door to the last room at the end of it. you follow him in and take in the room. it’s much bigger than the college dorm you’re used to, and it’s quite well kept for a spare room. “right, well, I will leave you to it. remember, you only have a few hours, then we deactivate your SIM card. let me know if you need something.” and with a curt nod, he leaves you in the large room, closing the door behind him. 

you sit on the bed and take a moment to digest everything. your kidnappers chose you because they think you’re useful, and you have no idea what they want from you. they kept you alive and are having you live with them, and somehow you’re okay with it. you don’t feel any sort of emotion; in fact, you may just be shocked. you look around and examine the details of the room, these thoughts making your head pound. you wince and press your hand against your head. closing your eyes, you can’t believe how much you’ve experienced within the past twenty-four hours alone. there’s a lot. but, you know what you need to do right now. you look down at your phone, and call up soobin. “hey, how are you? no I’m okay, things are really weird...” you explain everything to her in great detail, and within that explanation, she gives you small reactions whenever something stroke her as odd or even shocking. luckily, you’re able to tell haseul everything as well. “listen, I’m not sure when I’ll be able to see you guys again. in fact, I think this phone call may be the last you hear from me for a while, so I want you guys to know that I love you guys. you guys are my roommates, but you two are my best friends first, or even my family. I’ve always been tested with trials and tribulations, you two know this. this is another test that I must pass, but I wish I was able to see you guys one more time.” you cry, tears streaming down your cheeks. you hear the girls sobbing on the other end of the phone. “we’ll always think about you and hope for your safety, y/n.” soobin hiccups. “and don’t worry, we’ll never forget you, we guarantee that. stay safe, y/n. we love you too.” haseul’s voice wavers throughout the most of it, but you can still catch the words. “okay, guys, I’m going to need to hang up. if you guys can please just send all my things with jinhyuk when he comes to receive them, I’ll be extremely grateful.” they follow your requests and you hang up the phone before falling back on the bed. the tears keep falling so you assume only one thing: the aftershock is hitting you now. all your emotions are sporadically leaving you in a big burst, and you need to let it happen. you regret your decision to be here for a minute, once you’ve calmed down a little. but that’s just the thing: the lamenting was short-lived because when you close your eyes again, the image of the gun resting under your chin shows up in front of you and you shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the cold sensation the metal object gave you. “no, I made the right decision.” you console yourself repeatedly before gaining enough strength to push yourself off the bed, and you went over to the bathroom and washed your face with cold water. only then do you get a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot from crying, tear-stained face and a red nose. not to mention, you’re still in the baggy gym shirt and leggings your wear to the gym and your wrists have started to recover from the lack of circulation they experienced mere hours ago. you take in a deep breath and once again, splash your face with the water. strangely enough, you don’t know why, although you feel much better now, this curiosity within you arises again. suddenly, you want to know everything about this “mission” and why you’re such a crucial part to it.

you hear a knock coming from the closed door of your room, and you ask in a hoarse voice, evident with melancholy, “who is it?” “ms. y/l/n? your luggage has arrived.” a woman’s voice is heard from the other side of the door, and you go over and open the door, to reveal a middle-aged woman, in ordinary clothing with two suitcases. behind her, is jinhyuk with some more of your belongings. your eyebrows furrow in confusion and jinhyuk seems to pick that up from you, so he nods his head in understanding and comes into your room.  the woman enters first, leaving your suitcases at the edge of the bed, before telling you, “I’m soonja. I work for the men, like their butler. mr. han has asked me to start taking care of you as well, and I am delighted to do so. you see over there,” she points to a phone sitting on a small table just near the headboard. “that’s how you can call me and ask me for anything. so please do let me know when you need anything.” she gives you a sweet smile and you reciprocate it, before thanking her and she takes her leave. now, it’s just you and jinhyuk. “are you okay? did they hurt you?” jinhyuk examines your face, holding it in his hands. you give him a small smile, “I’m okay, I promise.” jinhyuk sighs before his hands fall to his side. “that’s a relief.” you two share a moment of silence together before you speak up. “I’m actually glad you’re here. I needed to talk to you.” jinhyuk motions for you to continue, and very carefully, you ask, “what are we? what is our relationship? sure, it started out as a date, but I want to give a name to this,” you point between him and you. “what do you want it to be?” jinhyuk asks you, and in all honesty, it throws you off-guard. if he were to ask you this a few days ago, maybe you’d say that you were a couple in the works. you don’t know now, you don’t know if you see anything in him. yeah, he’s handsome, but your heart doesn’t flutter when you see him, you don’t think about him all the time, and more importantly, you don’t know if you see him as anything more than a friend. but, perhaps, you need time. so that’s what you tell him. “I want to see you as more than a friend, jinhyuk, I really do. but, I don’t know if I see it right now. maybe it’s just this entire situation, but I’m so confused, and I don’t know what to do. I can’t differentiate from wrong and right anymore.” jinhyuk gives you a smile, but you can detect a hint of bitterness behind it. “don’t worry about it, then. what’s important is that you are alive right now.” you hold his hand and his eyes shoot up and meet yours. “if you wanted us to be more than friends, then I’m so sorry, I truly am. I’d love for us to try again in the future sometime, but I don’t know what my future here has in store for me. so do me a favor, will you? after you leave here today, live your life as you want to. go out with other people, love them, and most importantly, appreciate your freedom. you don’t know how much I would love to be in your position right now.” jinhyuk’s eyes water, and you quickly wrap your arms around him. “hey, don’t cry. I’ll be fine, okay? and also, take care of haseul and soobin for me? they mean more than the world to me. hey, thank you for everything.” jinhyuk sobs quietly, his shoulders moving with pain. then he pulls back from your embrace and wipes his eyes. “I should go. be safe, please, y/n. promise me you’ll make it out good.” you smile sadly as he heads to the door and just before he leaves, you whisper out, “I promise.”

[emoboijk]

knj | till death

In the demon world, arranged marriages are business transactions. But this isn’t that simple. —demon!au, arranged marriage!au, non-idol!au

01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 :: 05 :: 06 :: 07 :: epilogue

3,747 words

p.cred

You forget where you are at first. The light from the windows slants across your closed eyes and you blink against it, rolling over and stuffing your face into your pillow. It’s the smell that startles you—the sheets smell like a different detergent than what your parents use. It makes you sit up suddenly, looking around the room in a rush. When you see your suitcases, pushed neatly into a corner, that’s when you remember.

Namjoon’s place.

Your place now.

You sigh, half tempted to stay in bed all day just to avoid...everything. But you feel dirty. You still have makeup smeared on from last night (your mom and aunts got a little over excited) and you can still feel the lace of your wedding dress like a ghost pressing into your arms and neck. It feels suffocating.

With another sigh you roll out of bed, accidentally coming face to face with a mirror. You groan at the sight. Your hair is sticking up in a million directions and your makeup is all over the place. You glance back at the bed and find that there’s a smudge of mascara, foundation, and lipstick on the surface of your pillow. “Crap,” you whisper, pulling your shirt the right way around.

You open one of your suitcases and find that it’s already been unpacked. You grumble your annoyance and move to the expensive wood dresser (everything’s expensive here and it makes you wonder if Namjoon really doesn’t care about price or if he did it on purpose). When you pull open one of the drawers you find your clothing neatly stacked inside. You rummage around until you find clean underwear, mentally railing against the fact that some maid or butler had to put it away.

You turn towards the closet, eyes scanning through your various shirts and dresses. You spot the low cut pink dress your mother had shown you last week (still in denial about your lack of a honeymoon), “Wear this on the first day after the wedding! If you manage to put on any clothes at all,” she giggled. Your fingers skip right by it.

But you do want to look nice. What does a day with Namjoon even look like? The longest you spent with him was that one summer when you were fifteen and you both got stuck on a speedboat at one of those annual functions at the Country Club. He’d made you laugh until there were tears in your eyes. A wave of relief washes over you with the memory; then you think of last night and everything he’d said.

You pluck a plum colored t-shirt dress from a hanger and move to the bathroom, wincing again at your reflection. You run a hand through your hair, feeling hairspray and other product, whispering, “I need a shower.”

You shed your pajamas (AKA a giant t-shirt Yeri gave you when you were in high school that says Demon’s Do It Better) and step inside, cranking the water to the highest heat possible and scrubbing off any remains of the wedding the night before. When you emerge you feel freer, like you can breathe again.

You slip on the dress and tie your hair back into a braid before standing in front of your bedroom door for nearly ten minutes. Going through that door means you’ll see Namjoon, means you’ll have started your life with him.

You probably would’ve stood, waiting, even longer if your stomach hadn’t growled loudly. You pat your tummy sadly, gently resting your hand against the doorknob. You take a deep, steadying breath and twist it. It takes another deep breath for you to peek your head out the door, glancing around the apartment nervously. It’s deserted.

Another deep breath and you take a step out of the door, tiptoeing past the living room towards the kitchen. You’re halfway there when you realize it’s idiotic to be tiptoeing; it’s your apartment now, too. But you feel apprehensive. You’ve been lucky so far and Namjoon has been the picture of gentlemanly behavior, and with everything he said last night...you have no reason to suspect him.

But in some ways, not suspecting him is worse. Your mother talked you through a variety of sexual scenarios and lectured you on the things married women put up with. And even you have been imagining all the worst post-weddings things that could happen. That’s all you had prepared for, really.

You weren’t prepared for someone sweet and caring. Someone considerate. For his cocoa brown eyes and dimpled smile and serious sighs. For his humanity.

Your brow is furrowed by the time you make it to the kitchen where you find the note. His handwriting is neat and artistic, all long strokes and gentle swipes (you shake the potential sexual parallels from your head quickly).  

An urgent work matter has come up that I must attend to. I am very sorry I couldn’t spend our first day as husband and wife together. I took the liberty of hiring you a bodyguard and an assistant—Jeongguk and Lisa are the very best. They will see to everything you need.

I hope to be home by dinner.

Namjoon

“Home,” you whisper, your finger tracing the word in his neat handwriting softly. Home.

“What was that?” someone behind you says followed by the loud crunch of an apple. You jump and spin around to find a tall, fairly muscular, dark-haired man, standing in the entrance hall.

“Kook!” a girl’s voice says, a lithe, orange-haired woman appearing next to him like a trick of the light, slapping his arm, “You can’t just shimmer in on a girl like that! You probably scared her!”

“Oops,” the man says, shrugging bashfully, his cheeks turning pink in embarrassment.

“Hi!” the girl says, holding out her hand for you to shake, “I’m Lisa, your personal assistant!” When you give her your hand she shakes it vigorously, with a smile that eases your nerves. “And this dummy is Jeongguk, your bodyguard.” Jeongguk’s smiles cheesily at you, his nose scrunching up happily, and takes another bite of his apple.

“Yes, Namjoon mentioned you.” You take the note gently in your hands, folding it precisely and tucking it into your sweater pocket. When you look back up both Jeongguk and Lisa are watching you curiously; you cough awkwardly and ask, “What was Namjoon’s business matter?”

They both share a glance, one that is not at all subtle and tells you that they at least have an idea, but then Lisa shrugs, “No clue. But he thought maybe you’d like to go shopping?”

In fact, both Lisa and Jeongguk did know because Jimin had been the one to tell Namjoon and Jimin was a bit of a blabbermouth when it came to his two young friends. They knew that Namjoon’s business matter was him in the basement of his fifty-floor office building, the home base for his company, beating the crap out of a guy tied to a chair.

His fist lands across the man’s cheekbone, a crack echoing through small cement room as the chair rocks sideways from the force. Namjoon turns away and stretches out his hand, rolling his shoulders and twisting his chin to the side to crack his neck. He groans softly when there’s a quiet pop! He hadn’t slept well last night; nerves and excitement and anxiety. And then a call from Jimin at 4 AM—a trespasser in his office? Everyone knows better than that.

“Why did Taemin send you?” he says aloud, taking a glass of water off the table and sipping it.

There’s a loud spit from behind him, and when Namjoon turns there’s a glob of bloody saliva (and a tooth) on the ground by the chair. He raises an eyebrow and the man chuckles, “Who’s Taemin?”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, “Pathetic.” He turns back around and takes another long gulp of his water. He’s sweating, and he makes a mental note to talk to Jimin about better ventilation and air conditioning in this part of the building. “I think Taemin and I are far beyond pretenses at this point,” he turns back around with his arms crossed, “He’s the only one who has it out for me and is brave enough to do something about it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man in the chair says, still smiling so that Namjoon can see every single one of his bloodied teeth (except for the canine missing in one corner).

Namjoon sighs. He’d hoped this wouldn’t take that long, but already he can tell that this is another of Taemin’s indoctrinated half-demons, disposable humans recklessly blooded to make them strong and wild. And crazy, by the looks of it. He rubs the bridge of his nose in exasperation, picturing you in your wedding dress the night before, his heart heavy with his own absence.

There’s a sharp rap on the door, one of the guards slides the viewing pane open, and then lifts the heavy lock. Namjoon knows who it is without looking, but he stands upright to look over anyway.

“Brother,” Namjoon says, clasping Yoongi’s forearm traditionally, the other bowing his head slightly.

“Sorry I’m late,” the elder says, gripping Namjoon’s arm tightly out of respect.

“Find anything?”

“Yes and no,” Yoongi says seriously. Namjoon can see the purple circles beneath his eyes and knows how he’s inconvenienced him yet again. Yoongi, who is a powerful demon in his own right, who is his head of intelligence, his right-hand man, is the person Namjoon has been closest to the longest. “He’s a nobody. A human college student who dropped off the radar three weeks ago.”

“Yes, I suspected,” Namjoon sighs, reluctantly accepting the reality. If he’s an indoctrinated, they won’t find anything out from him. He crosses the room and waves his hand at Yoongi, “Meet me upstairs.” The door clicks shut just as Namjoon twists the man’s neck to the side, his body falling limp. He tells himself it’s better than the raving lunacy and slow-poison death that would have been his fate otherwise.

“Namjoon special ordered a black card for you,” Lisa says, digging through your mailbox in the apartment building lobby with gusto, “They said it would be here…” She flings a couple more envelopes behind her at random, Jeongguk sighing and bending over to pick them up.

You watch them from the side. They’re an interesting duo. Of course, you’ve only known them for an hour. But they’re both young, a little bit reckless, a little bit reserved. Already you can tell that they balance each other out; when one is reckless the other is reserved, and vice versa. You wonder if they do it on purpose, or if it happens naturally.

“Aha!” she shouts, flying away from the mailboxes in a twirling motion toward you. Jeongguk carefully places the envelopes she’s tossed aside back into the mailbox and closes it, the lock whirring shut again. Lisa shoves the envelope in your hand and peers at you expectantly, “Open it, open it!”

You sigh, reluctant, your fingers slipping into the seam and tearing slowly. You can feel Lisa’s frustration coming from her like a radiator; Jeongguk has pulled a bag of chips from his jacket pocket and is now wrist deep in them (you’ve noticed that he is rarely without food) (so far).

You know that you’re married to Namjoon and that makes his money, technically, yours now, too. But it still feels wrong. You pull out the paper slowly, heavy with the weight of the shiny black card pulling it down. Your jaw drops when you see it. Your name and then...Kim. You are a Kim now. It makes your chest feel tight and your eyes water, but you’re not sure why.

“So pretty,” Lisa sighs, leaning against you heavily. You have to remind yourself she’s your personal assistant; you wonder if Namjoon knew of her complete lack of professionalism when he hired her. You had to admit, you liked that about it her. You need a friend more than a personal assistant.

You sniffle and peel the card from the paper, holding it in your hands and running your fingers over the name: so unfamiliar and yet not.

Lisa loops her arm with yours and says, “Of course, you need groceries, so we can stop at the store. But I’m thinking clothes, or furniture, or both!” she laughs.

“Sure,” you say softly, surprised when you realize that all you really want is for Namjoon to be here.

You pile into a black sedan with Jeongguk behind the wheel and Lisa in the back seat with you. She stops talking but you don’t notice, you also don’t notice the serious, appraising look she gives you as Jeongguk starts the car. She’d been a junior assistant to Jimin for a long time, and when he’d told her about this transfer she was...hesitant? Nervous? She liked the office environment and her friends there, and she’d heard rumors about how bitchy demon wives could be (especially the rich and powerful ones). But you just seemed...normal.

JK was just happy to not be in training anymore, no longer having to shadow Hobi (although he did miss him).

Lisa looks away from you and pops her head around Jeongguk’s chair, “Let’s go to that furniture store on Madison—by the Gucci outlet?” He nods and pulls out of the parking space easily, Lisa leaning back into her seat.

You have your phone in your lap, completely unaware of what’s going on around you as you stare down at the conversation you have open on your screen. Maybe a dozen text messages to Namjoon total? Of course, you’d only gotten his private number right after you’d gotten engaged eight months ago.

Your hands hesitate over the phone, nervous at the prospect of texting him. He’s your husband, you remind yourself, finally typing a quick message.

I hope you’re having a good day.

You press send before you can think twice, breathing almost heavily as you stare at it, quickly adding:

I’m looking forward to dinner.

Then you remember that he said he would “try” to make it and you feel like an idiot, so you add:

If you can make it!

No pressure!

“Fuck,” you mutter, stuffing your phone in your purse so you won’t have to look at it.

“Everything okay?” Lisa says softly, and for the first time, you realize that the car had been relatively silent so far.

“Yes,” you whisper, rubbing your lips together and looking at her from the corner of your eye. She watches you skeptically for a moment before reaching across the seats and squeezing your hand.

“I hope we can be good friends,” she smiles.

Namjoon has shimmered right in front of his office door (no jacket, loose tie, his neck and hairline damp with sweat) when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Your messages make him smile, walking through the open office doors and striding in where Yoongi is waiting. The place is still a bit of a mess—papers scattered about, picture frames toppled over or crooked, his computer at the wrong angle.

He sits in his desk chair and types a response to you quickly before looking up at Yoongi, whose eyebrows are raised. Namjoon smiles despite himself, “My wife.” He expected the words to feel awkward on his tongue, but he feels nothing but adoration and joy. He adjusts the computer screen and lifts a couple of picture frames (one of him and his parents, the other of you).

Yoongi rolls his eyes but smiles as well, frowning again when he says, “If Taemin is blooding random college students, he must be planning something big.”

“How do you know it’s random?” Namjoon asks, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms seriously, his chin jutting out as he thinks.

“No demon relations in the family tree at all, and his only family is a half-sister on the other side of the country, no awards or notices to indicate superior intelligence or athletic ability,” Yoongi ticks them off on his fingers, “Plus, looking at the track marks on his arms...I doubt he was hanging out in the most reputable of places.”

Namjoon’s brow furrows and he nods, “Okay, yes, random. But what could he hope to accomplish?” he pauses in thought before adding, “How many would you estimate he’s blooded now?”

“Half a dozen?” Yoongi says, “That we kind find, at least.”

“Hardly an army,” Namjoon sighs, his mind working the puzzle like a Rubik's cube, “And who would he attack? Family or corporate leaders? I doubt that could lead him to any power… And why break into my office?”

“Didn’t even bother blocking out the security camera,” Yoongi interjects, cutting off a thought-spiral he could see coming a mile away, “And according to the footage he rummaged around, browsed through the computer, but didn’t copy any files. He swiped the Rolex you had in your desk—” Namjoon rolls his eyes at this, “—and scattered some papers.” Yoongi shrugs.

“I don’t get it,” Namjoon says, his chin jutting out again. He leans back into his chair and crosses his arms, “Could it just be some sort of distraction?”

“Maybe,” Yoongi says, “Anything’s possible with Taemin.”

There’s a light rapping at the door and Jimin’s silvery blue head peeks through before confidently striding in. He has a tablet in the crook of one arm and a first aid kit in his other hand. Yoongi chuckles at Namjoon’s unenthusiastic expression.

“I’m fine,” Namjoon whines as Jimin opens the box on his desk and begins to pull out cotton wads.

His assistant ignores him and says, “I rescheduled your 10 o’clock meeting for a lunch at Mina’s Bistro, moved your lunch meeting to two, and canceled your golf meeting with Jackson.”

Yoongi snorts, “You scheduled a golf meeting for him?”

Jimin looks up icily from dabbing Namjoon’s bloody knuckles, “Lisa’s been transferred, so there’s a new guy. Taehyung.”

“I said I was sorry,” Namjoon winces as Jimin presses harshly against a raw spot on his hand, “but I trust Lisa with my wife. And Taehyung’s recommendations were good; he comes from a good school.”

Jimin almost glares at Namjoon, as much as he can with him being his boss, and tosses the bloody cotton into a garbage can, wrapping gauze around his knuckles and stepping away.

Yoongi chuckles from his chair and says, “Besides, as soon as Namjoon drops something, or steps on his foot, or nearly kills him by breaking something...he’ll figure out no golf meetings.”

“Oh, shut up,” Namjoon says, opening and closing his hand to test it with the gauze.

“Anything else you need from me, sir?” Jimin said, still frowning and holding the tablet to his chest.

Namjoon looks at him for a long moment, sensing more attitude than he appreciates in his employees. He narrows his eyes, his irises disappearing as they turn all black for just a second, and a chill goes down Jimin’s back uncomfortably.

“Have the wedding gifts been delivered to my apartment?” he asks, more like an interrogation than an honest question.

“Yes, placed in the living room. And I spoke with Lisa so that she knows they can start opening them whenever they’d like.”

“Good,” Namjoon nods, “Call our contractor. I want better ventilation in the basement.”

“Yes, sir,” Jimin says, typing something on his tablet.

“Dismissed,” Namjoon says coolly, Jimin nearly scurrying from the room.

You try to wait as long as possible before checking for Namjoon’s reply; you’re not sure why, to appear coy maybe? Or aloof? Or just to keep from having to figure out what to say in response? Either way, you don’t last long; the anxious excitement bubbling in your chest making you pull your phone out about thirty seconds after it buzzes with his reply. You haven’t even made it to the first store yet.

Namjoon: I will definitely be there for dinner.

Namjoon: Any requests?

A simple question, and a promise. And your heart is fluttering wildly in your chest, staring down at your phone and smiling. Beside you, Lisa and JK share a pleased look before Lisa shimmers to the other side of the car and pulls the door open for you.

The shopping is uneventful. Mostly because you’re distracted, but also because it doesn’t feel right to be spending Namjoon’s money (your money). Plus, you don’t even know what kind of wedding presents you got.

When you mention that last detail to Lisa (after many hours of working up the courage and three different stores), she shrieks, “Presents!” She flings the items in her hands (a Gucci bag and headband) away from her and drags you to the car, yelling for Jeongguk (who is on the other side of the store peering at some sunglasses with a look of distaste).

Lisa clutches your hand and shimmers you to the car right there in the middle of the store. You watch her wide-eyed and she opens the back door for you, waving her hand, “No one saw!”

Jeongguk’s already in the driver seat by the time you and Lisa slide in, backing out of the parking space and heading towards home. Lisa studies you curiously for a moment before asking, “Can you shimmer?”

You chuckle, your cheeks turning pink; you don’t often talk about the range of your magical abilities (or lack thereof, really). “Not very far distances.”

“Huh,” she says, turning to face the front of the car as you look back down at your phone. Namjoon’s message is still there and you bite your lip at it. Your mother would tell you to say something like salad at an overpriced restaurant; she would try to convince you to fake it in your marriage for as long as possible.

“Can’t have his eyes go wandering!” she would wag her finger at you.

You frown at the idea. You’ve never been very good at pretending, and you get the sense from Namjoon that he’s smart enough to see through it anyway. Impulsively, and partly because you know your mother would be extremely disappointed in you, you answer back honestly.

We still have to go through all the presents...maybe Chinese takeout and a night in?

You hit send, feeling ridiculous at your heart fluttering like a girl with a crush. He’s your husband!

Namjoon smiles down at your message, smitten with you.

Namjoon: Sounds perfect

author’s note—honestly idk why i made taemin the bad guy? he’s a cinnamon roll in real life? 

03: wedding presents ↝

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[catharina-sophia]

Princess Cordelia Stuff

3 Bed, 5 Bath. Lot Size: 40x30. 2 Floors. 1 Basement. Costs: $317.103.

Gallery: CatharinaSophia

Background story below the cut.

Background story

After seeing a video by @chrillsims4 about Princess Cordelia, I started reading the descriptions on Princess Cordelia items in detail. Now, most of them are neatly organized when you filter by Queen Anne style. This style was - surprise, surprise - popular around Queen Anne‘s reign (1702-1714) and is also known as (English) Baroque. It features towers with bay windows and the windows tend to be narrow and cinnamon colored with a white trim (read more). Interior wise, paneled wainscot, large crown moldings and parquet floors were very fashionable (read more).

After I put all of Princess Cordelia’s items together in a room, it didn’t take long before that room turned into a formal living room and bar. After finishing that room, I got the hang of it: the dining room, red bedroom and the blue bedroom took shape rather quickly. The roof, on the other hand, took me several attempts, because of it’s odd shape.

The ground floor is all entertainment space. Left from the front door is a tiny powder room in case your chariot ride takes longer than anticipated. On the right side of the front door is a deep closet, for all of the fancy coats. Opposite the front door is the formal living room and bar. This spacious, blue room is the perfect room for hosting large parties, with its built in bar, grand piano and homage to the Jazz musicians. Behind the bar is a table, may you get sore feet from all the dancing.

In case you manage to close a business deal of some sort, the office is next to the formal living room. It’s not too large, but to sign papers you only need a pen, paper and a desk. Connected to the office is the art room, since Princess Cordelia loves to paint. In fact, she’s made all of the artworks around the house! For landscape paintings Princess Cordelia had a covered patio built. How clever and convenient!

The second door in the entrance leads to a smaller, more informal living room. I mean, having just one living room is for commoners, right? The informal living room leads to the dining room, which is large enough for 8 Sims and a life size statue of Princess Cordelia’s beloved butler, Bob. The kitchen is right next to the dining room and has plenty of counter space to prepare all of the fancy dishes.

The L-shaped staircase takes you to the first floor. The first door will lead you to the master bedroom, complete with a seating area, walk in closet and an en suite bathroom. Fully usable, just check for peas under the bed and pirates in the bed every now and then.

The second door leads to the blue guest bedroom. In between the desk and the drawer is the chimney for some extra warmth. A small bathroom is adjacent to the blue bedroom.

The biggest guest suite is at the end of the hallway. The black and red color scheme are perfect for your romantically involved Sims to stay over. Or, on second thought, maybe not so much. That might be a little... awkward.

Opposite the second guest room is a music room. We all know Princess Cordelia loves music, especially jazz. In between the red bedroom and the music room is another bathroom.

Last but not least, in the basement is a small gym area and bathroom. No, Princess Cordelia doesn’t work out, but wonderful Butler Bob and Princess Cordelia’s boyfriends do...

Not pictured

Basement: Bathroom

Basement: Half of the Gym (with the Exercise Machines)

Ground Floor: Backyard

Ground Floor: Bathroom

Ground Floor: Entrance

Ground Floor: Front Yard

Ground Floor: Informal Living Room

Ground Floor: Office

Ground Floor: Porch

Ground Floor: TV-lounge

Ground Floor: Walk in Closet

First Floor: Black Bedroom (master bedroom)

First Floor: En suite Bathroom

First Floor: Walk in Closet

First Floor: Half of the Blue Bedroom

First Floor: Hallway

First Floor: Piano/Music Room

First Floor: Small Bathroom

CC used

None

[chuuulip]

The Lady & The Butler

Prompt: “You really shouldn’t be so trusting,” he sneered in her face. “The world is a dangerous place.”

Pairing:  James “Bucky’ Barnes x Reader (platonic)

Warning: Mention of drugs, rape, under some influence (nothing graphic happening I guess) I just mention that to make it clear.

*So this is the second time I tried to write something and it turns out longer than I intend to do 🙈 This is for ‘Little Darlin’s Marvelous Writing Challenge’ by @littledarlinhavefaithinme  I haven’t really checked the grammar thou. I have quite the trouble with it, especially in long writing things, so hopefully, it was cleared enough. Ok sorry for my rambling 🙈

***

Grogginess was heavy when you try to open your eyelids. Blinking heavily, you try to retrieve everything from the last couple of hour event. Try to adjust to your surroundings, you sure that you never been going to this room before. The room is typically dim, but you can see the only table with uncorked champagne and some variety of liquor and classic sofa. The feel of expensive silk bed sheet was unmistakable to your skin, however, your inability to move, even your finger raised you into an alarmed state. You try to calm yourself and attempt to absorb the surrounding that engulfed the situation. The sound of the door open made you alert, although you flail miserably to move anything besides your own eyes.

“Well…well…well… aren't you a sight for a sore eyes dear?” Bryan comes up to your sight, presenting you with that sinister smile. His fingers come out to your cheeks, unabashedly caress it. He doesn’t stop and glides it down to your neck and further going south to rest on your hip, toying with a small ribbon there. “I would like to show you my exclusive empire milady.” If you didn’t know any better, you might mistake Bryan to whisper sweet things to your ear. You can help but regret your unnecessary fight with Bucky after the dinner party.

“Ben, bring that wheelchair!” Bryan sat across the bed from you, a glass of champagne in hand while waiting for his henchman. A big man with a broad shoulder and a bald head appear in the small room, gliding something that you assumed is a wheelchair, and bring it to stop at the left side of the bed. “Hold the chair, I need to show my beautiful girl the party we host tonight.” Bryan showed you that broad sinister smile that sends a chill throughout your body. He slowly scopes you gently from the bed. You can feel his left hand under your knee and his right hand under your shoulder, carrying you bridal style to the wheelchair. Ben is dutifully holding the wheelchair while Bryan adjusted your neck position.

“I know it’s uncomfortable that you are paralyzed now and can’t move anything. But I promised you that the effect will wear in thirty minutes or so. Here I will give you something.” Bryan pulls out some small bottle from the inside pocket of his suit. His left fingers tilt your chin, hands grasp the jaw to steady and try to open the mouth. A drop of a clear liquid touched the surface of your tongue. The clear liquid quickly absorbs and ingested without being swallowed.

“Ok let’s get the party started.” Bryan beaming at you while pushing the wheelchair out from the bedroom. Ben, the henchman open the door and followed behind you and Bryan. The stroll to the said ‘party’ is something you never thought of. Laid off in the front of your eyes isn’t a party but more of an act of indecent, a sex club of some short, or so you thought.

“Agent, can you hear me?” Bucky voice faintly comes out from the small com that connected to your earrings and you never been gladder than before. Worrying that there isn’t update from your partner in a mission was stressful enough, especially when no one knows where the actual fuck you are right now.

Confident that the serum finally works, you want to provoke Bryan to find out where he held you hostage. “Is…Is…”

“Hold on. Ben brings some water would you?” Ben quickly retrieves some glass of water. Bryan holding the glass full of water to your mouth. Although hesitate, you gulp the water to clear your throat.

“Is this what you mean with your ‘empire’?” Your voice was strained, but it can come out clear enough that hopefully can be heard by Bucky.

“Oh god, finally. Where are you agent?” Bucky voice is clearer now, but obviously, you can’t reply to him, not when Bryan standing next to you.

“Exactly,” Bryan said to you gleefully. “Do you found anyone familiar?” He asked while trying to maneuver the wheelchair from left to right. The wheelchair motion gives you a clear description of the big room. The room has a big circle in the center with a heavy chandelier on top of it. Several big black leather sofas were decorating the room. Tables are spares in the big room, full with liquor, something looks suspiciously like chocolate, flowers, and drugs. Men who look more appropriate to be in the same age as your father or probably a grandfather were enjoying the liquor all the woman, or more likely ‘girls’ served them. You suspiciously found someone familiar. In fact, the said man is walking closer to you and Bryan, hands draped on a top of two girls that dress in daring transparent lingerie that mostly didn’t cover anything.

“Oh Bryan, is this new girl for me?” The man, who is an ex-senator greedily, eyeing you from head to toe.

“Apologized sir but this one here, is mine. I will not share her in the near future. But don’t worry, I already saved you some new girl, fresh. We meet today inmeet and greet. First-year college student, ripe and has a great body. Definitely your type.” Your eyes bugged. How the hell he can ask all these girls to be in this party, especially when none of them don’t look like typical girls enjoying all this over sexual party with an old man. Bryan definitely smooth talk the old man and asked Ben to bring the said new girl to the room waited for the ex-senator.

***

Shit, this definitely not going as what Furry plan.  “Agent, can you try to provoke him and tell me where you are right now? Stark tries to track you from the GPS in your bracelet but I and the other stuck in the backstage concert.” Bucky tries to calm his heart rate. Missing an agent in a mission that looks this simple was definitely something he wasn't prepared before. Ok calm down, I can find her.

“Where are we?” Bucky stilled while hearing your voice through the comm. “Oh, we are just in my enormous house.” That prick.

“I will never think you will host this just under the basement in your house at the upper east.”

“Tinman, do you know where she is?” Bucky looks to his right and seeing Tony Stark dressed in a black suit, followed by Natasha in her black widow suit. Bucky pressed the com in his ear and make a ‘silent’ motion with his finger, hearing any further information from you.

“Oh dear…don't you worry, you will soon be joining the party with me in that bedroom.” Bucky is angry. He has a clear description of what you are getting yourself into.

“Barnes.” Natasha tried to call him out. Both Tony and Natasha were surprised when Bucky punching the wall with his metal arm.

“Don’t worry agent we will save you.” Bucky running and tell Tony to ask for the team to go the upper east, to Bryan house.

***

“How can you manage all these girls to participate at your party? They definitely desired your company, not all these old man.”

“You, my dear is definitely intelligent.” You can feel Bryan fingers running from your shoulders and down to your fingers. Feeling disgusting is understandable but right now coaxing him to reveal everything while waiting for the team to save you is more reasonable. You are sat on his lap, back to his chest. He positioned both of you in one of the black leather sofas. All the girls and men in the other sofas are making out, on display for your eyes to see.

“These girls are a groupie. They attend my concert and love coming to meet and greet. However, obviously, they are here because I can control them.”

“You what?”

“Hypnotized them are more likely the right term. I am a mutant my dear, and that’s kind of my ability. What can I do is only hypnotized them, I can’t read their mind and using them more than that definitely taxing.” This revelation definitely cleared off the fog. You still need to ask for more evidence, although killing the man is more tempting at the time. Sadly you are not an assassin.

“How you managed to do it then?”

“You are a curious one aren’t you?” Bryan abruptly picking you up bridal style and step back to the room where you were staying before. Ben helped to open the door for him while Bryan settling you back on the bed. He made a nodded motion with his head and Ben left you alone with Bryan.

You can help observed that Bryan suspiciously looks like he is undressing. You try to move your body, but nothing budge, only the tip of the fingers can make a small motion and now your stress was tenfold than before.

“I give them some kind of drug.” Throwing off his suit on the floor, Bryan slowly unbuttoned his white shirt one by one. “This drug will make them intoxicated, high and aroused and sex is the only thing that can help them flush it. Of course, they will wake up and not knowing what happened the previous day and I will get the extra cash from the gentleman outside”

The bed dipped when Bryan sat on the bed, showing you two handcuffs with that sinister smile. You gulped, eyes darting from him to the door “So now you will hypnotize me or you will drug me?” Slowly Bryan put the handcuff in your left hand and secured it to the part of the headboard. After finished with the left hand, he continued doing the right hand. “You, my dear are an exception. I will not hypnotize you nor drug you. I want you to feel all the things I want to do to you.” He smiles that sinister smile again and starts nibbling your ear hungrily.

You sighed when Bryan pulled out from you but that didn’t last long. He took off his pants and come back to the bed with a scissor. “Although this lingerie looks so exquisite on you, I don’t want any barrier between us dear.” He starts cutting the lingerie dress from the bottom to the top, exposing your breast to the chilled air. “Oh, how beautiful…” He is eyeing you, pupil blown wide full of lust. Kissing your cheek down to your neck, and you can help the tears that flow from your eyes. “You are gross and disgusting!”

“You really shouldn’t be so trusting.” He sneered in her face. “The world is a dangerous place.” He laughs at you maniacally. His fingers come down to reach the waistband of your thin layer underwear. You shut your eyelids, helplessly grasp the handcuffs and realized that you can finally move it.

The door open with a bang and the door was dislodged from its side, making a dent on the wall. “Barnes…” You have never been so hopeful in your life when you see the former assassin.

“Get the fuck off of her!” Bucky’s voice was harsh and angry. Bryan was surprised, he didn’t prepare for any interruption and clearly not from the winter soldier. Quickstep to the bed and Bucky hold Bryan's shoulders and throw him from the bad. He is still wearing his undercover clothes, the butler costume although both gloves are missing and the metal hand gleaming under the light in the room.

Bucky walks straight to Bryan, he was on the floor when Bucky punching his face with his metal arm. You can hear the crack sounds, Bryan certainly fractures his jaw. Bucky launched another punch at Bryan but stopped once you call him. “Barnes, he is not worth it.” Bucky left Bryan on the floor with a blood pooling from his nose and mouth. Bucky averted his eyes when he saw your condition but he hurriedly demolished both the chain that handcuffed your hands, although the parts of it still attached on your wrist.

Bucky took off his Butler suit and help you wearing it to cover your nakedness. He unmade the silk sheet and wrapped it to your midsection. In the midst of helping you to dress, no one aware that Bryan pulled out a small gun from his pants on the floor. When you realized what Bryan is doing, it was too late. He pulled the trigger and shot Bucky on his back.

“No…no…. Barnes.” Bucky stumbling on your lap on the bed. With blood running on his face and an unmade jaw, Bryan walked closer to the bed, gun pointing at you. Everything happened so fast that you didn’t aware Bryan pulled another trigger. Instead of receiving the bullet, Bucky made the last attempt to shield you and it adds another hole on Bucky’s back. Blood pooling on your lap made a stain in the suits and the sheet on your body. You hold Bucky closer to you and hope for any God that hears you to send some help.

“Kiddo.” Tony shows up on the room in his armor and followed by Steve. Bryan was put down immediately by Tony while Steve instantly helping you.

“Steve, Barnes has been shoot and the blood. Oh my god, Steve helps him please.” Super soldier or not, losing a lot of blood never been a good situation.  

“Malyshka are you all right?” Natasha rushes to your aid, helping you after Steve tried to pick up Bucky from your lap. Consciousness seems to be taken from you and the last thing you remember said to Natasha was to save him.

***

Woken up to harsh light never feels better for you. You can faintly smell the sterile odor that emitted from the medical wing in Stark tower. You push the small red button near your bed, not over a minute pass, a nurse and Tony appear in your room. The nurse diligently checks up your condition and informed Tony that she will ask Dr. Cho to review your condition.

Tony can sense that you want to talk about the last mission. He brings you a glass of water with a straw to help you drink. “The mission was successful although there were things that shouldn’t need to happen.” You just nodded at Tony and listen to his explanation. “We actually catch a very bad person, thanks to you and Tinman, we not only caught a dangerous mutant but also help stop his unethical business.”

“What about the girls?”

“They have been rescued and we got extra help from SHIELD. I guess furry will handle any problem related to them. Don’t worry, every single person that was in that club last night were also caught. Although the ex-senator, it was kind of a surprise for me. Never thought he was one of the clients, disgusting man.”

“…and the drugs. Did he produce it himself? Or you found out the supplier?”

“About that, we still investigated it. I am not sure if Furry and Shield will take over the investigation or not, but looks likely he will.”

After finishing your drink, you try to move away from the bed but Tony forbids you to stand up. “Kiddo you don’t need to hurry. Here, let me help you to sit on your chair.” Tony accidentally hold your hand but you can’t help to detach yourself from him. Tony put his hands up in surrender and called the nurse to help you on the wheelchair instead.

“Sorry, Tony. I feel a little bit uncomfortable.”

“It’s ok Kid. I think there was something more happened that only you and Barnes know?” he quirks his eyebrow and satisfied with your silent answer.

“I know you want to ask about Barnes, well…I will just send you to his room then. Don’t worry too much about him. Two bullets hole will never kill him, although the blood lost kind of freak us out, thanks to Steve we have enough blood to transfuse to him. Both you and Tony finally arrived at Bucky’s room in the medical wing. Bucky is asleep, bare chest cover in a thick bandage that probably the place where the bullet was before the surgeries.

“Ok, I left you here. Both of you need to cool down and talk things out. We don’t need another civil war in the team. Ask FRIDAY if you need anything” You can help but laugh at the irony.

“Thanks, Tony. “ You smile and wave at Tony.

Your wheelchair was set in the left side of Bucky’s bed. Ever so slowly, you put your fingers in his metal arm fingers and squeezed it a bit. The cold metal arm was a contrast to your human one, and it’s definitely a new foreign sensation that’s not uncomfortable that you ever felt.

“Thank you��James, for saving my life. There’s a lot of things we need to clear up when you awake.” And that was the moment you feel his metal arm move under your small human hands.

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