#what do we think did I do him justice I leaned into the demon vibes

[dreamaruu]

˚₊‧꒰ა △ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[sugoi-writes]

Morning! I have a little silly idea for Alastor x Reader and wanted to share :D

Reader is stressed over some big event that is about to happen in the Hotel (like idk maybe they're throwing a ball or some gala to encourage more sinners to check in) and while she's giving a pep talk to everyone she absentmindedly starts fixing Alastors bowtie/coat/hair and everyone expects him to snap at you (you two were more of rivals than friends) but instead he smiles at you softly and fixes your necklace. You two only realize what you did when Angel "quietly" asks as a joke when did the two of you get married 😅

Sorry this took so long!!! I hope this is doing your prompt a little bit of justice! Please enjoy!!!

No warnings for this one, really! Just some good old fluff and pining (which I DESPERATELY need to work on, HAHA--)

♥️♥️♥️

Everything was hung in place, not a tassel or a drape awry. The decorations and accents, deep reds and lush golds, adorned every surface you could see. It was... gaudy. But it was perfect.

When all was said and done, you clasped your hands together, a triumphant smile on your face. Charlie, being the sweetheart she was, tasked you with orchestrating the grand-reopening ball. She had to admit, it was nice to throw the reigns to someone else for a while. She definitely got some MUCH needed time alone with Vaggie, who was also more than willing to take a backseat.

Your voice cut through the chatter like a knife, silence behalfing the room with your address," Alright... guys, everything looks great. The place looks perfect. Everyone is looking--"

As your eyes flit about the hotel residents, you spy a freshly-apparated Alastor, who was... off. Physically, you mean. You squint for a moment, spying three things: Hair, Bowtie, Handkerchief.

"Sh-Sharp... everyone looks sharp."

Without thinking, you marched right up to the Radio Demon, collective gasps around the room as you touched him. Looks of bewilderment, horror, and amusement surrounded you both. You were preening him, adjusting him... unannounced? With no physical repercussions? How were you still alive?

Both hands shimmied the black bowtie into place," The music is covered, thank you for the recommendations, Alastor--"

"Anytime, dear," he quipped, not flinching in the slightest. His eyes were trained forward, avoiding eye contact as you pat his chest. Charlie's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her skull as you pulled out the handkerchief, refolding and placing it back into Alastor's breast pocket. Another, resolute tap to his chest, and Angel's brain was short circuiting.

"Right-- like I was saying, everything is PERFECT. I need everyone on their BEST behavior when the doors open-- you especially, Angel. Everyone has their roles--"

Angel squinted, pouting as he shifted his weight... His head cocked to the side with a smirk, as if to say 'speak for yourself'! You strained onto your tiptoes, fluffing and adjusting Alastor's fringe, completely oblivious. There was a tinge of hair gel in Alastor's crimson, which surprised you. He had really gone the extra mile... albeit, still a little under perfect. Or maybe, you had just never noticed how much effort he put into his appearance?

"Niffty: keep an eye on the buffet and clean any and all messes. Angel, intel and vibe-checker. We have some big-wigs coming tonight, and I'm sure we could weasel our way into their good graces-- Make sure they're drinking, eating, dancing-- yknow!!! Having a good time!"

Alastor leans his head down for you, allowing easier access to his hair. You silently thank him, your tangent continuing," Charlie, Vaggie: you know the drill. Get them hooked on this place. Give them the razzle-dazzle to get them to stay. Lucifer, sir, you're in charge of the fireworks. I'm sure you have something ENTIRELY too bombastic for this, but-- just try not to scare anyone off tonight, sir???"

Lucifer, though still flabbergasted, gave you a pair of finger guns. This was his way of giving silent acknowledgement.

"Husk, of course: you're on drink detail. The more booze, the looser these guys get. The more likely they'll cave and stay the evening or become a patron--"

You blinked as warm hands were on your collarbone, adjusting your necklace. Though your face burned brightly, you didn't utter a word as Alastor finished his adjustments, giving you a pat on the shoulder. You looked up towards him, a friendly smile shot your way.

No words were exchanged, just smiles. You nod to Alastor, before turning to face the crowd. You weren't expecting to see looks of confusion and shock: everyone looked like deer in headlights. You sigh, chuckling a bit as you crossed your arms," C'mon guys, I know everyone is nervous about reopening to the public today, but we've got this!!! Seriously, everything is absolutely perfect now and--"

"If I can cut in real quick, toots-- are we plannin' a weddin'?" Angel retorts, fanning his hand back and forth between you and the Radio Demon.

"I mean-- not that I'm complainin', but y'gotta warn a guy first. I would've worn somethin' else for such a special day~"

You blink, utterly confused, before it finally clicked. You sputter dramatically, eyes wide and face heated from the implications," I don't-- I don't know what you mean, Angel--"

"Oh honey, we aren't BLIND. Admit it, you're mackin' with Tall, Dark, McNasty. And honestly, I get it. Chase your dreams or whateva. It's kinda cute~"

There were murmurs from the other crew, loosely agreeing to Angel's sentiments.You take a step forward to say something, before a hand clamps onto your shoulder. Your face only grew warmer as Alastor stepped in front of you. His pleasant smile strained, his annoyance further proven by his left, twitching eye.

"Now now, let's not lead the night with accusations and gossip-- though I'm usually a big fan myself~," Alastor mused, his grin widening.

" I'm afraid you all have the wrong idea-- I was just simply making sure everything was perfect. Just as our party host is." Alastor turns to you now, his smile softening," And that's exactly what tonight will be, with you at the helm: perfectly executed."

Angel snorts, leaning over towards Husk as he covers his mouth. A hushed whisper and an eyebrow wiggle are thrown his way," Oh, they're DEFINITELY fuckin'~"

You nearly shrieked as you cover your face with both hands, frustrated," Shut up, shut up, just-- UGH. L-Let's get to our battle stations, guys-- doors open in FIVE MINUTES," you bark. The nervous energy in the hall multiplies before dispersing, as everyone made themselves busy. It was very clear that everyone was trying to ignore the elephant in the room (and failing miserably). You do your best not to smudge your polished appearance as you turn on your heel, making your way towards the bar.

Immediately, you give it a knock, two fingers out. Husker nods, pouring you a double shot of your preferred poison. Swiftly swallowing the elixir of courage, you felt some of the embarrassment melt away. A familiar presence appears beside you, mimicking your knock and drink order. You sigh as Alastor's hand comes into your line of sight, eyes naturally following it as he swirled his drink, before downing it. You couldnt help but focus on the bob of his adam's apple, before you had the decency to look away. Alastor grinned down to you, tilting his head.

"Still troubled by their words, dear?"

You groan," D-Don't call me that, Alastor... Angel's going to feel like he's right," you reply, holding the bridge of your nose. Alastor laughs, leaning against the counter," Oh come now, I'm sure this whole mess will roll off your back by night's end~" Alastor teases, jazz hands accenting his playfuk tone. You groan again, frustrated," UGH, no, if HE'S distracted by that, EVERYONE here will be-- I just-- I don't wanna cause any unnecessary attention. 'For EITHER of us. You have your gambit for tonight, and I have mine... We need this to go WELL, not to be the talk of the town..."

Alastor leans against the counter, back pressing into it as he looks your way. Normally, he would continue to goad you into a precious, pathetic mess, but the look on your face felt too... troubled. You really were overthinking things, his eye catching the way you bit your lip.

The two shots he ingested already softened his edge, his head lolling to the other side," ...'a little advice, then?" You look over at Alastor, surprised by the change of subject.

"Sure. Might as well," you quip, resting your chin on your hand as Husk whisks away your empty glasses.

"If you walk around the room like your hair is on fire, the entire operation goes up in flames... This is commonly seen in management, but works just the same here," Alastor states, pretending to be fascinated with his talons.

"And truly, for tonight, you are the leader, the ringmaster of this event... the others will ask questions, and look to you for guidance. If you walk around like everything is going to fail, then it is destined to. So perk up!" Alastor's hand finds your chin, forcing you to look his way. Your breath catches for a moment, your eyes settling on his face. It was flushed, warm... and a hint of something you can't describe. He was being unreasonably chaste. Is this what Mimzy meant by "sweet as a kitten"?

"I think everything will go as it should, as long as you keep a cool head, dear. And if you can't, well...," Alastor grins as he knocks on the counter, each of you receiving another drink.

"--there's always liquid courage to settle the nerves."

You nod slowly, processing his words. Real, genuine advice... and, some sincerity sprinkled in? Were you really that drunk already??? Deftly, you picked up your glass, almost downing it before Alastor stops you.

" A toast, first."

Alastor grins as he picks up his own glass, clinking it against yours," To your success, my dear."

You move in autopilot as you clink back against his drink," Y-Yeah uhh... to the Hotel's future," you added, the two of swallowing your drinks hastily. Alastor straightens his posture, reaching over to squeeze your arm in reassurance. The radio in the room flicks to a new frequency, changing to a modern, catchy song that you recognized.

" Th-This is--"

"Your favorite, right?" Alastor finishes, his grin widening," Well dear, I am nothing if not accommodating. For tonight, let's have a little fun. Change things up." You nearly jump out of your skin as the front lobby doors begin to open, Alastor's eyes meeting yours.

"I expect to have your first dance. Meet me when you'd like to accept the offer."

And with that, Alastor leaves you, melding into his shadow form to flit to another spot in the room. You blink a few times, still reeling from the entire interaction. You hadn't told Alastor your favorite song. Not even once. And, you never dared to listen to it in front of him, fearing that he would disregard you or even chastise you for your taste.

You feel your heart swelling as you search for Alastor again, mouth falling open in silent protest. You wanted to pester him, ask him how he was able to know something so personal.... However, you are greeted by a sharply dressed demon, all too eager to make your acquaintance.

You allow your hand to be kissed, and pleasantries were exchanged. But ultimately... you felt your eyes constantly searching for Alastor. Maybe Angel was right, you thought... Maybe you did have something going on between the two of you. You felt a blossom that had remained so stubborn finally experience it's long-awaited bloom.

Maybe you did like Alastor. Maybe, just maybe, he liked you too... As the night grew longer, you realized that you just might be content with that.

[decayedgloria]

obey me characters and their visions

Or what I think are their visions idk it’s 3 am and I just found out I failed my pathology exam so here’s a crossover of two games that provides me an escape from this putrid reality 😁

also just trying to get rid of drafts rn

Tags: sfw, pure crack speculation, I’m going insane, obey me demon brothers and undateables and luke, genshin impact visions, everything here is MY OPINION and should not be taken seriously, feel free to disagree with me

Lucifer

-He strikes me as the type to either have a hydro vision or a geo vision

-more leaning towards hydro

-hydro vision holders tend to be dedicated to their work and uphold their own view of justice, more often than not being protectors of some sort i.e Candace and Aaru village, Ayato with the Kamisato Clan

-I draw parallels between him and Ayato because they both have gone through hell and back for their families (often literally) and have had to salvage tarnished reputations in order to protect said family

-also very rich and elegant men who have a “dark side” that most aren’t aware of

-It’s also just every hydro character being really sophisticated and elegant tbh he fits the vibe I think (minus Childe but he has his moments)

-Geo because, well… look at him. He’s prime geo vision material. Like a rock solid wall holding up the HOL but like he’s also hanging by a thread lol.

Mammon

-Geo Vision, Hear me out on this.

-Not only does it suit his color palette, but if you think about it, Mammon places a lot of responsibility on himself to be a good older brother to his siblings (despite falling short most times), we see this especially during Nightbringer

-Geo’s thing is literally responsibility. Every geo user has some sort of responsibility that they themselves have chosen to undertake, whether or not they can handle it

-They’re all also quite stubborn. Once they’re dead set on something they will never let it go, and on top of that they also protect either someone or something

-Every geo user has a goal relating to something to do with material or status: Ningguang and the Tianqiu, Noelle wanting to be in the KOF, Zhongli wanting to retire (lmfao). Mammon wanting to be rich (and wanting him and his brothers to be at the top of the Devildom in Nightbringer) literally fits.

-Mammon, despite being a goofy character, fits into geo so perfectly it’s actually insane.

-Mammon and Itto are the same person. I’m not elaborating.

Levi

-Electro vision all the way.

-It’s no surprise. Canonically he’s seen as a weirdo, even by his brothers (not me tho I love my men a little pathetic) and he doesn’t spend much time mingling with others, so of course he’s gonna be singled out

-almost every single electro vision holder is outcasted by at least one society; Beidou being cast out of her village, Fischl being thought of as eccentric because of her personality, the literal electro archon becoming a shut-in

-He would absolutely get the vision probably in like the early part of Nightbringer when we got stuck in the TSL universe and he had to make a decision

-(if you’re wondering why I keep bringing up Nightbringer it’s bc it’s the one I’m currently playing ok)

-Levi also passes the “I have a scary animal that helps me fight” thing. Henry’s quite formidable when he’s back to normal size :)

Satan

-Hm, thinking about it and at first I’d say dendro is the obvious answer but there’s also quite a few other contenders actually.

-Pyro is one of them, and when drawing parallels Diluc comes to mind (obvs grumpy men stick together always.) As the avatar of wrath, he’s like mad 80% of the time and I can imagine him raining hellfire upon everything (and he has, best believe).

-But also he’d fit the “passionate” description, he’s so passionate about books and magic that he’d literally kill for a book that he wanted (and did I’m pretty sure). He’d also be considered passionate for hating Lucifer so much I think

-he also has quite the past to fit with a pyro user, especially during Nightbringer when he’s still coming into terms about being basically a baby demon and learning to confront his brothers and finally accept them

-Dendro is quite obvious for him. He craves knowledge from books, and I’m sure if he were in Teyvat he’d find his way in the Akademiya just to get into the House of Daena’s restricted section

-I think either or could be his vision, depends on which Satan you’re talking about (Nightbringer Satan and main timeline Satan are two vastly different individuals)

-if you really wanna get into it tho, cryo/electro's pretty... fitting. Especially for nightbringer Satan. Even if his brothers try not to make him feel like it, he will always be different from them; the fact that he basically was made to replace Lillith in a sense, and he distances himself away from them because he just doesn't fit in.

-all in all he's so versatile realistically he could have like 4/7 visions since his character is so dynamic between the two games

Asmodeus

-Now this was harder to come up with, but after giving it some thought I think he’d have an Anemo vision

-think of it this way. In Nightbringer take a shot everytime I bring that game up his whole arc in the beginning was learning to let go of the celestial realm and accepting the fact that he was a demon now, effectively granting himself the freedom to love himself once more

-Anemo is the element of freedom right? He fought himself and his inner demons for freedom like that, which happens to a lot of those who are granted this vision (Wanderer and Xiao moment)

-Thats really all I have for him. Tbh, the only other vision I could see him wielding his pyro, but I couldn’t think of anything else I can say that hasn’t already been said

-another short anemo king go figure (he and heizou would get along I think)

Beelzebub

-another one I had to really think of, but upon further deliberation with myself I'm thinking pyro again (the default vision lmfao)

-Yes. Passion for food, he'd get along with Xiangling quite well (too well, imagine her in the devildom holy shit)

-Also pretty passionate about working out and protecting his brothers, so there's that lol

-I am stumped on him bc he's like lowkey just there bro like

-how would he even get his vision idk man

-but imo pyro is the default vision so he gets it (feel free to disagree with me)

Belphegor

-If you think this guy does not have an anemo vision you are wrong

-like dead mf wrong he is anemo all the goddamn way

-he lost his sister and still blames himself for it, but he also wants to be free with his brothers in the devildom

-the other vision i would give him is electro because he does tend to like, shut himself off or whatever so there's that

-but he's 100% anemo I don't make the rules sorry

-first tall male anemo user?? (surprisingly he's 5'10 guys it's probably all that sleep he does lmfao)

Diavolo

-hmmmm, such a hard decision I wonder what vision I would give to the literal prince of hell- pyro.

-jk jk let me explain

-Pyro, because as I've stated before, it is both the default vision imo and also the vision for those who are passionate IMO (I cannot stress this enough)

-Diavolo is very passionate about RAD, and the whole "demons getting along with other species" concept is something he has been working very hard on (man is trying to end specieism in the obey me verse)

-on top of his outgoing and friendly personality, pyro really does fit him like a glove. I could make an argument for geo because he shoulders a fuck ton of responsibility for the devildom (esp in nightbringer) but like

-he is warm and friendly and strong, perfect pyro material

Barbatos

-I needed to think about this one for a bit, but after further deliberation with the screams that echo in my head, I am confident in saying that this man has an anemo vision

-if he were in the genshin universe he'd def be one of the shady people from celestia (bro is literally istaroth but i digress)

-as much as anemo fits him aesthetically, I also want to point out that he just... gives people freedom? Like the first half of nightbringer was him finally fulfilling someone's wish to go to heaven to see their lover

-he also just parallels a lot with venti, idk i just see him being very fitting with an anemo vision

-like, he's immortal yet does not look it (Scara, Xiao, Venti), downplays his power to appear "normal" in a sense that he won't be an immediate threat to those perceiving him (Venti), saw a pyro kid and decided to adopt them and begrudgingly take care of them no matter how annoying they are (Xiao and Hu Tao though I may be reaching)

Luke

-bro does not have a vision yet (jk its cryo)

-I feel like he'd be given a hydro vision solely for the fact that he is changing his, quite frankly specie-ist, ways lol (like eula hello?)

-he is quite shy when mc first met him, the only reason why he didn't immediately get mad at them is because they weren't a demon and that's saying something

-he tends to be very guarded around said demons, often becoming aggressive when interacting with them but he's warming up. It's like a wall of ice slowly melting through the mc and simeon's guidance

-he also reminds me of mika for some reason

Solomon

-he has an electro vision and yes, it's exactly the same situation as Lisa

-though he doesn't need one (none of them do tbh), I feel like he wanted one just for shits and giggles like I definitely see him being a descender on Teyvat

-he's literally the most powerful human in the obey me verse, of course he's going to be viewed differently from others even though he "tries" to not be too overt about it (very, very big emphasis on tries. I think he only does it for mc atp)

-I feel like he'd get along well with the electro ladies as well, particularly Miko and Lisa (Gorou and Luke need to hide like asap)

-in all seriousness though, he just fits into electro so well given all the character traits present in electro wielders

-another vision I could see him having is dendro, partly because he's always down to have more knowledge about magic that he doesn't know yet and is in constant pursuit of creating pacts with the demon brothers

Simeon

-another hydro wielder :)

-calm, collected, elegant, sticks to their principles- classic hydro archetype tbh I love him so much

-again, very similar to Lucifer's reasoning but he leans more towards hydro wielders like Nilou and Candace I think, who are quite relaxed but won't hesitate to protect what they love and fight for what they deem is right

-spoiler warning: he literally got cast out of heaven for the mc.

-as I've said before, there really isn't anything I can add that I haven't said before, other than the fact that Simeon would definitely enjoy Xinqiu's company and possibly get along with Furina when discussing acting and the arts

-other than hydro, I don't think any other vision suits him tbh (big maybe on anemo but like, it doesn't really fit tbh)

I am so fucking bad at character analysis but here you guys go

the labor of my sleepless night while i gather more motivation to write the second chapter of madame neuvillette

also i am so very tempted to start writing for other fandoms but this blog is enough for now tbh

[narastories]

So, I kind of finished my random Hellraiser movie-watching madness, and here is my personal list of ordering the Hellraiser films from best to worst:

1. Hellraiser (1987)

2. Hellbound: Hellraiser ||

3. Hellraiser (2022)

4. Hellraiser: Hellseeker (VI)

5. Hellraiser |||: Hell on Earth

6. Hellraiser: Bloodline (IV)

7. Hellraiser: Deader (VII)

8. Hellraiser: Judgement (X)

9. Hellraiser: Hellworld (VIII)

10. Hellraiser: Inferno (V)

11. Hellraiser: Revelations (IX)

I know everyone has REALLY different opinions on these lol This is just mine. Ramblings below.

1. Hellraiser (1987)

If you're not rating this at the top, what even are you doing? OG. Classic. Great. Yes, they have visibly worked with different tech regarding the make-up, fake blood, etc. It just adds to the charm. Also: Kirsty <3

2. Hellbound: Hellraiser ||

This goes hand-in-hand with the first one. It also has that part with Kirsty getting the Cenobites to protect them, which is great. 10/10 no notes.

3. Hellraiser (2022)

Sorry, not sorry for putting it this high. It's just so pretty. And the cast is great. Overall eye-candy. I mean, I have a soft spot for Goran Višnjić in this (liar) in general. And Jamie Clayton just really made the role of the Priestess her own. I think with some of the Pinhead re-casts the issue was that they just put another guy in there, but with her, she really owned the role. The references back to the OG are subtle, and overall I think it did the original film justice.

4. Hellraiser: Hellseeker (VI)

I would be lying if I said the Pinhead & Kirsty scene didn't influence me to rate it this high. But also, I feel like this is the film that Inferno was trying (and failing) to be. You have the plotline with the police, and the cheating husband, but you actually care about what happens to the characters because it's Kirsty and his husband not just random people with no backstory. I'm going to say it again: I personally enjoyed Trevor's suffering and Kirsty getting blood on her hands. There is also something to be said about the early-2000's anxiety about surveillance.

5. Hellraiser |||: Hell on Earth

This still has a very similar vibe to I & II, which is a plus. I get that people think Pinhead is OOC here. Personally, I think his behavior could be explained by what happened to him. To me, it was hilarious that he basically let the human part of him die to save someone else, got stuck in a statue and his brain-to-mouth filter just disappeared. And then the human part kept haunting people. You also have Terri and Joey whom I love dearly.

6. Hellraiser: Bloodline (IV)

I appreciated the backstory, and I appreciated Angelique. Also, as I've said before the space-station setting didn't feel overly gratuitous. Imo it served a purpose and added to the narrative saying "we are so far in the future and these angels/demons are still here". At this point in the movies, it felt really good to get a little history lesson too about where the box was coming from.

7. Hellraiser: Deader (VII)

I would not call this (or the rest on this list for that matter) a good film. There was something personally relatable and therefore terrifying to me about this movie. It leans strongly on the idea that the ones you should be afraid of the most are human and I like that. The subway car scenes are also fun, but I'm taking minus points for the Hungarian name in the address that the guy pronounced like it was an Italian city. Oh yeah, and if you are claustrophobic... good luck?

8. Hellraiser: Judgement (X)

Very bizarre, but not half that bad? The scenes followed a plot that made sense and were enjoyably done. Pinhead wasn't OOC despite it not being Doug Bradley, of course. The guy with the glasses was also fun. Bonus points, because Kirsty can make deals, but Carter can't :P At the same time, this film is nowhere near as good as some of the older ones.

9. Hellraiser: Hellworld (VIII)

Just. No? I mean, part of me appreciates the geeky "fandom" setting and the 2005 technology. But. No. It's like Teen Wolf meets Hellraiser, and that is not a compliment (although I like both but... no) I just have an incoherent "this tasted bad" feeling about this movie lol If I had to articulate it, I would say that the plot felt very unfinished.

10. Hellraiser: Inferno (V)

So boring. I wasn't opposed to the concept because I think the question: "What does the police have to say about all of this?" is a good and valid one. But man, the execution sucked. I had zero sympathy for the main guy, but I also didn't feel gleefully malicious as I did with Trevor. Yeah, I can't recommend this one.

11. Hellraiser: Revelations (IX)

Ugh. First of all, the protagonists are two spoiled brats, whose troubles offer nothing interesting. Like, okay, you had a temper-tantrum and opened the box, congratulations I guess? Kirsty was more mature than this in the first movie. Second, and I'm sorry to say but this is the worst Pinhead recast out of them. He looked like a boy in his father's shoes. Tbh the cenobites all look worse. The plot also moves too fast and the references back to the old stuff are really clumsy. I'm sorry but I hated it.

[books-and-catears]

Welp, since I’m a regular now; I’mma just park my chair here and spin the idea wheel. And so the idea wheel has decided!

Let’s have the Brothers and Undatables react to MC just barging in unexpectedly while they’re busy doing whatever. Everyone’s just vibing together at Diavolo’s talking about things, playing games, and all dat jazz and suddenly MC comes in with a blank face before they get a sad expression (they’re this close 👌🏾 to having a breakdown, it’s so sad).

MC:....Can I have a hug? 🥺 *says weakly as they were seconds away from crying*

Bby needs comfort! (Let’s just say they recently lost a loved one and they want some affection)

My first ever regular. You have no idea how much I cherish you. Thank you for the funniest and angstiest asks ever. This hits too close to home. I've lost two very close people to disease and suicide in the last few years and the feeling is horrible. So this might end up being a bit self indulgent... apologies.

Please if any of your friends seem not okay, check up on them regularly. Even the adults in your life. And most importantly check up on yourself. Take care okay?

I will do my best to do this justice too. Sorry if it's a little late college and extra classes are a pain sometimes.

It was not news you were prepared to receive. Not that day. It was supposed to be a day of celebration.

Lord Diavolo had announced a small party just for Council and the exchange students. Asmo had taken hours to get you ready. Everyone was excited and in good spirits, clinking their glasses and cheering for a joyous reunion. There was music, dancing and laughter so loud, it felt like it was echoing all across Devildom.

And yet here you were in the bathroom, bent over a sink, staring at yourself in disbelief. You had received horrible news from the human world.

A last message an old friend had left for you.

"Hey MC, thanks for being kind to me. Although we have a long and sweet history, it felt good to reconnect and feel wanted in my last few days. Thanks for the last hug, MC. It was the best one I've ever had."

What kind of bittersweet message was this? What was the point of making them feel wanted if they still left anyway?

No you must keep your composure, you think. The laughter keeps echoing louder. While internal screams creep up your throat. You have to go back before they start worrying about you.

The doors to the ballroom feel heavy as you push through. "Hey look! MC's back! Now we-- MC...?"

You don't know what face you were making, but everyone went quiet. Some looked horrified, some worried and some panicked. You felt your head go dizzy with the pain, tears stinging the corners it your eyes.

Looking directly at one of them, you croaked out the first thing that came into mind.

"C-could I have a hug?"

Lucifer

This man isn't a hugger. But for you he'd make an exception every day.

Especially when you asked for it so desperately.

Walk up to you swiftly, holding the back of your head and pressing it to his chest, while his other arm wraps around you.

"Would you prefer to spend some time in private?" He whispers as you break into soft sobs in his arms and nod.

"Excuse us. We'll be back shortly. Anyone who follows us will face consequences. MC needs some time alone." He calls out to the rest and whisks you away to his room.

Makes you sit in his lap as he cradles you while you cry. Keeps telling you it's not your fault and you tried your best.

Mammon

Someone save this boy, he is a mess himself.

He feels guilty already. He can't stand to see you this way. What couldn't he protect you from??

Aren't you the one who rushes to give people hugs?

He returns the favour. Sprinting towards you and engulfing you instantly in his arms.

He feels your shaky breath as you cling on to him and goes bezerk.

"Oi. I'm taking MC home." It's the most serious he has ever been.

Doesn't hesitate to bring out his wings and fly you home as soon as possible. He cups your face as you cry, his fingers wiping down each tear. His eyes are pained looking at you like this, it wasn't even your fault. You tried till the end didn't you?

Leviathan

This man's protective trigger has been switched. Who dare be the cause of this?

You're his cheery best friend. He simply won't stand to see you like this.

Runs towards you and hugs you as tight as he can, like you've done for him so many times. Embarassment be damned.

You asked for a hug, he will definitely give you one. You grab onto his jacket with trembling fingers and lean into him.

"MC would you like to go home ?" He asks softly, patting your head. You nod softly.

Takes you home as fast as possible, and lays you down in his tub. When start crying violently he starts to tear up alongside you. Losing a friend isn't easy afterall.

Satan

His first instinct was violence. His fist tightening, about to murder whoever did this to you.

But the moment you raised your arms, asking for a hug in that small voice, it was like looking at a helpless kitten in pain.

Another one who sprints towards you to hold you close. His hug feels gentle yet urgent at the same time.

He cupped your cheek, and stared as your eyes grew misty. "Don't worry we're getting out this instant." Slammed the doors behind him as he left. A subtle message to leave them be.

He took you to common room, near the fireplace to warm you up, one of his arms always around you, as you wailed and choked on your tears. He presses kisses on your head too and tells you how kind you were. You did your part. You weren't responsible for someone else's actions.

Asmodeus

He is gasping and tearing up at the sight of you. Oh you poor thing who dare hurt you?!

How could he ever say no to your hugs? Especially now when you needed him most?

He comes at you with such speed that you both almost topple over. He rubs your back and arms trying to calm you down with his touch as he hugs you.

"Would you like to be alone with me MC?" The moment you nod, his wings are out and you're soaring through the air until you find yourself in his bath.

You lean against him and cry your heart out, he holds you from behind, pressing kisses on your head whispering it's okay.

Beelzebub

Baby boy is heartbroken. Why do you look like that? Where are you hurt?

He immediately hates that look on your face. He must do something to fix it immediately.

Runs and lifts you up in his arms and holds you so close to himself, his arms providing endless protection.

"MC will food make it better?" You shake your head so he takes off. He doesn't care about the feast he missed, he just wants you to be okay.

Flies you into his room and gives you plushies to hold onto while he gets you all your favourite food. Will hold you tight as you sob into his chest and will feed you later on cause he knows how exhausting crying can be.

Belphegor

He knows that face. And he knows the pain behind it. And now he's feeling it too.

Who did this? Who dared? Tell him their name and they're gone.

A hug, huh? He's ready to give you much more than that if you ask.

Walks towards you and wraps you up in his jacket and then his arms. His hug is so warm and soft you could fall asleep right there.

"Let's go lie down together." He will take you home and put you down in his bed, bundled up in his blanket, his soft pillow under your head. Pulls you flush against him as you sob and scream into his pillow.

Solomon

He is human. Of course he knows the face of ultimate pain. He's been through it so many times he's made himself immune.

But he wasn't immune to yours. Your ever smiling face - that was what he liked. This irked him, made him restless.

He's next to you in the blink of an eye, wrapping his arms around you, cloak and all, his mouth pressing down on your head.

"Let's take it to the sky shall we? Don't worry I've got you." He says softly. You nod, your fingers grasping at his shirt.

And in mere seconds you are soaring above the clouds, the gentle air cooling your burning heart as you cry into the wind. He holds you close and whispering to make you feel better.

Diavolo

He has seen this face only once before. When Lucifer came to him Lilith dying in his arms.

He saw the look on yours and he was determined to help you however he could. And if it started with a hug so be it.

Takes big strides and hoists you up in his arms, as you wrap your shaking arms around his neck and press your face into his jacket.

"The party is over. MC shall stay with me tonight I'll send them back when they feel better." Gone was his usual cheery tone. He seemed distraught, angry almost.

Took you to his bedroom and laid you down softly, still holding onto you tightly, keeping you from falling apart as you sob into his arms. Takes the next days off to be next to you.

Simeon

His emotions mirror your own. Seeing you in such pain, makes him feel the same.

His heart is breaking seeing you this way. He can't hold you fast enough.

He swiftly runs to hold your hands first. He feels them tremble in his own and he wraps himself around Immediately, cradling your head delicately.

"Let's get you away. You'd like that won't you?" He says running his fingers through your hair. You let you a breathy yes and he's off.

You land in Purgatory hall, curled up into him on the couch, freshly brewed flower tea on the table. He holds you close as you cry into his arms. Tells you that your friend is in a better place because you healed their soul before they left.

Barbatos

You made the usually composed demon crack. Even if for a moment, he felt the need to do something extreme.

What was causing you this much discomfort? He was ready to eliminate it.

A mere hug? Is that what would make you feel better? He is ready to deliver.

He's there before you know it, holding you like delicate royalty. You could crumble at how soft he was for you.

"Would you prefer somwhere more quiet?" He asks. You only need to nod once and he's already sweeping you off your feet and into his chambers. Picks the most calming teas for you as he sits by your side holding your hand.

Luke

He knew the demons were no good. Of course it was a matter of time before MC got hurt again.

He was about to cry looking at you, ready to throw hands at the whoever caused this.

A hug? A hug will help? YES OF COURSE.

He flies straight into, wrapping his little arms around your neck. Like a baby brother comforting a distraught older sibling.

"Come on MC! Let's get away from here!" He says and flies you off to purgatory hall. He brings you to the kitchen and starts whipping up your favourite desserts to cheer you up.

[old-hyper-super-clover]

For the requests‚ what about a family trip to the beach with Purgatory Hall + the royals and MC? Like Simeon and Barbatos setting up a picnic table meanwhile MC and Luke play around in the sand searching for shiny or strange things to building a sand castle (everything also keeping Solomon and Diavolo far from the preparations for the picnic)‚ playing with water guns or swimming. And after eating maybe playing a match of volleyball sand, admiring the sunset till it's nigth time and before going back‚ playing with fireworks, do a little stargazing or something--

Feel free to ignore this and thanks in advance anyway~

FINALLY I've come to write something for this lovely request. It's packed with so many fun ideas that I kinda went overboard with it xD this means the story is so big I'll have to split it into two posts!

To Bisshitu: I wanted to thank you for your continuous support! I see you in my notifs a lot and I really appreciate it!! (ALSO I AM SO SORRY YOU'VE WAITED SO LONG I HOPE YOU WILL STILL ENJOY THIS CHAOS)

Literally just 13 idiots on a beach trip~

Part 1

MC was leaning against one of the walls in the giant entrance halls of the House of Lamentation. Standing next to them, Solomon handed MC an opened bag of spicy newt chips. "Want some?" He asked and MC gladly took a few while constantly watching the commotion that was going on in the rest of the hallway.

Who would've guessed that going on a vacation with the seven rulers of hell would involve the most panicked, loud and chaotic packing of bags to have ever existed?

Well, let's be real, MC did expect it, but maybe not to the degree that they were in amusement about now.

The oldest brother had called the others for a "luggage check" as he had been sceptical of his brothers' talents in packing reasonable items in an, likewise reasonable, amount of suitcases and bags.

And of course, the first one to show up had to present his luggage in the form of... nothing.

Yes, Beelzebub came up to Lucifer, only the remains of a sandwich in his hand (which didn't last longer than three more seconds), confused when Lucifer mustered him with an angered glance.

"Where's your luggage?" Lucifer asked, to which Beel only gave a shrug.

"We're going to the beach, right? Which means I'll only need my swimming trunks, and I wear those underneath my pants."

Now the confusion has wandered over to rest on Lucifer's face. "But... Won't you need clothes to change into, or at least pyjamas for the night?"

"Hm..." Beel scratched the back of his head while thinking about Lucifer's words. "Nah, I don't need those. I'm planning to stay at the beach all the time, so..." Then suddenly, he gasped as he remembered something. "Wait, I do have something else prepared to bring along!"

Beel reached into his pocket, and when he pulled out a hand-written list that unrolled itself, plonking onto the carpet and rolling all the way to Lucifer's feet, the avatar of Pride knew exactly what said list was going to be.

"There are a few food stands that I'd like to try out..." Beel announced, eyeing the paper. "First of all, there's one selling shaved ice, which I want to compare to the ice-cream from this other stand, but who's also selling parfaits of which I kind of want to try all twenty-five flavours... Also then there's of course-"

"Beel" Lucifer interrupted the avatar of Gluttony in a strict tone. "Go pack a proper bag."

"But-"

"Now."

Letting out a sigh, Lucifer watched as Beel left.

But little did he know, this had only been the beginning of the chaos...

Moments later, Lucifer has found himself explaining to Satan why taking 70 different books with him would be ridiculously much. Also Mammon had taken this opportunity to "lend" some of his brothers possessions, arguing that he "needed those for the beach". This had worked until his swift fingers touched Levi's limited edition Ruri-chan sunscreen.

So, as Lucifer was spam-calling Belphie to wake him up and finally have him start packing, a sudden argument could be heard from upstairs:

"... How dare you steal my precious Hana Ruri 'magical sun ray protective lotion for all blooming heroes of justice'?! This very sunscreen is an homage to the legendary beach episode where Azuki-tan got a sunburn and couldn't help Ruri-chan in the intense battle against the evil kelp-army that was threatening to overgrow the local reef-"

"OKAY OKAY, HERE'S YOUR STUPID CREAM NOW LEAVE ME ALONE"

"S-STUPID CREAM?!?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW PRECIOUS THIS ITEM IS TO A FAN LIKE-"

That was all Lucifer could understand as an awfully annoyed scream Mammon let out was drowning Levi's gibberish. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Lucifer knew this vacation was going to be one intense experience...

An hour later, the group found itself where this little story had started off. The Purgatory Hall crew had already arrived long ago, enjoying the chaos together with MC -- who, btw, had been the only one to pass Lucifer's vibe luggage check right away.

Slowly it felt like most of the brothers were ready to go, only Asmodeus was left in the judgemental glare of the avatar of Pride.

But Lucifer noticed they already were way behind the time they were supposed to meet Diavolo at his castle. So, to Asmo's luck, he let off of trying to see what's inside the pretty boy's suitcase and announced the group's departure.

In enthusiasm shared by almost everyone, they let out a big cheer:

"Off to the beach we go!"

Some of the demons had whined about wanting to visit the human world beach. But as those idiot boys literally couldn't be trusted to act responsibly (which is okay, we love them regardless), Diavolo offered to stay at the beach resort he created in the Devildom.

Looking over the endless ocean, surrounded by the equally large beach and glistening in an artificial sun's light, MC was wondering just how powerful the demon prince must be to have created all this. But they were left only little time to be in awe over the location, as their friends demanded their attention shortly after having arrived.

Without going into much detail -- the day was packed with lots and lots of fun. MC was running around the beach, playing and goofing around with their friends, only to take a collective rest and then go do something silly again. Only a few other demons were to be found at the resort, but those were some acquaintances of Diavolo's family, and the group seemed to have scared them off of the beach after, like, an hour or so. Hence, the whole beach served as their playground for whatever activity they wanted to do, until in the afternoon, most of them were about to collapse from exhaustion and hunger.

"That's right, we didn't really have a proper meal since coming here" Asmo noticed as several tummy grumbles undermined his statement.

"We DID bring a picnic basket..." Satan mumbled. "But some genius had to let Beel carry it."

The culprit gave an immediate pout. "I had to hurry, 'kay?!" Mammon huffed. "MC was already at the beach and I--" he stopped. "... U-uh... I mean..."

Gaining a round of sighs and shaking heads, his brothers however decided to let Mammon's... mammon-ness slide for once. Mostly because, approaching from the distance, Barbatos and Solomon were getting closer, their hands full with bags that seemed to be stuffed with food.

"Y-yoU BroUGhT S-nAcKs?!" Beelzebub was already on his feet running towards them but Barbatos' stare was actually enough to make him stop.

"Not before the dishes are prepared, Beelzebub" Barbatos explained calmly, but with this very weird hidden tone in his voice that gave everyone chills despite the scorching summer heat.

"We figured everyone must be starving by now, so Barbatos suggested we'd make a little picnic party with everyone" Solomon cheered, presenting the bags in his hands.

"That sounds lovely" Simeon could be heard among the general noise of approval. "Let me help you prepare everything, Barbatos."

The demon butler beamed him a smile, thanking the angel for his help.

Then, Solomon spoke up again, and every bit of joy vanished from all their faces: "Thank you, Simeon! With the three of us working together the food will be ready in no time!"

--------------

Barbatos was putting all kinds of spices into a bowl to create a delicious sauce. Right next to him, Simeon prepared mouth-watering sandwiches.

And behind their back, there was this chopping sound. Chop reaching their chop ears in an chop never- chop ending thread, over and chop over again...

Swallowing his tension, Simeon was fighting a frown. "He's only cutting the fruits..." He whispered. "You shouldn't be able to mess up a fruit salad..."

"I know" Barbatos mumbled back. "However I cannot fight this unease that urges me to check if he's really-" He was interrupted by a very unsettling "oops" coming from that certain sorcerer at the cutting board.

In honestly quicker than the blink of an eye Simeon and Barbatos were at Solomon's side, frantically scanning the table for whatever Solomon must've messed up. When all they found were slices of fruit that, well, might have been chopped a bit wonky, they gave Solomon a confused stare.

"I cut off too much of this poor Hellberry's pull" Solomon explained. "Oh well, I'll just cut around the stem and add it to the fruit salad like this."

Both Barbatos and Simeon couldn't help but stare for a moment longer, their brains not really comprehending NOT finding an abomination in Solomon's cooking.

"Can I help you two with anything?" The sorcerer then asked.

"U-uhm, no..." Simeon mumbled. "It's all fine, we just..."

"We wanted to see if there's anything we can help you with" Barbatos jumped in to continue.

"Thanks, but I'm fine. Actually I'm almost finished, so maybe I can help one of you afterw-"

"Nononononono...!" Simeon almost whined. "I-its fine! We're actually almost finished ourselves, so..."

Solomon looked back, raising an eyebrow. "Doesn't look like it to me..."

Suddenly, another voice joined the group.

"I agree! You two are likely just being humble again" Diavolo had walked up to their working station a moment ago, but neither of them seemed to have noticed in their stress. The prince continued: "That's why I decided to lend you a hand as well. This is a vacation for all of us, so I should not burden my loyal butler with all the work."

"That's a commendable attitude for royalty like yourself" Solomon cheered. "Well then, I think Simeon and Barbatos could use a hand."

Diavolo was already squeezing his quite broad body into the tiny cooking space, this certain over-excited sparkle in his eyes as he mustered the food.

Barbatos and Simeon on the other hand were exchanging glances, so immensely stressed that their thoughts were almost audible:

'Barbatos I don't think I can handle any more of this stress' Simeon stared.

'We shouldn't have let Solomon help in the first place, our kindness was foolish' Barbatos stared back.

'What do we do now Barbatos this is the only food we have left, they cannot ruin it'

Thankfully, the perfect butler was not planning to let their "help" threaten the food for any longer. "Young master, I highly appreciate that you thought of my well-being. Which is why I indeed have a request for you and Solomon."

Simeon almost barged in on a frightened impulse, but Barbatos continued before anyone could raise their voice. "There is dessert stored in our hotel's main storage. Would you be so kind and bring enough for our whole group?"

A little surprised, Diavolo agreed. He waited for Solomon to finish cutting the fruits, then they went off to the hotel.

Finally able to catch a breath, Simeon shot Barbatos a last glance. "That was easier than expected. Why didn't we let Solomon bring the desserts earlier?"

Back to mixing spices, Barbatos didn't look up at the question. "What desserts?" He simply asked.

"... Uhm..." Simeon was quite startled. "Are there... Are there no desserts in the storage room...?"

"Oh, I sure hope there are" Barbatos said. "Otherwise I will have some explaining to do..."

-------------

(To be continued...)

Find my summer event Masterlist and Rules for the requests here <3

[aiyexayen]

The ChengXian/WangXian parallel gifsets about the sad boat rides with Wen Ning made me think, once again, about how Wei Ying was worried about being the Jiang Cheng in his relationship with Lan Zhan.

Wei Ying just had so few models of relationship, and only two real models of a serious relationship involving himself--Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli. He saw himself as a caretaker in each of them.

Even Jiang Yanli, ultimately, though there was certainly more give and take there. He only accepted a very specific kind of caretaking from her, though, and we see how fraught that was in the way Yu-furen shamed Jiang Yanli for it.

But Jiang Cheng was the most complicated. He and Wei Ying were the Yunmeng Shuangjie. Twin Heroes. Both of them strong male cultivators. Their relationship was such a carefully orchestrated imbalance. Wei Ying had to take care of Jiang Cheng even to the point of making sure Jiang Cheng didn’t feel taken care of. He was stronger, but he had to make sure Jiang Cheng didn’t feel weaker.

And at the same time, he had to be able to have his best friend and brother and navigate the lines of teasing and boasting that came with those dynamics and also with his natural brash and outgoing and free-spirited personality. It’s not something that weighed particularly heavy on him until later on, of course; it’s just How Things Were.

But Lan Zhan being Wei Ying's true equal was a heady taste of something new, something he was desperate for.

Someone he didn’t have to take care of in all those tricky, sticky ways. Someone who could understand him from the outside. That equality between them--of swords and strength and wit--formed so much of their early relationship. The ways Wei Ying and Lan Zhan excelled differently weren’t seen as anything but surface-level differences, cultivation styles. They could choose to take care of each other on their own (like in the Xuanwu cave) but there were no expectations except that which they set for themselves.

The best cohesive example I can think of is the situation at Dafan Mountain. Jiang Cheng has taken off after Wei Ying, to come and find his troublemaking brother and bring him home, ostensibly being the one to wrangle and care for his brother and best friend and someday-second. But as soon as he finds them, Wei Ying is clearly the one in charge. Jiang Cheng gets locked into a shield barrier, given a verbal half-teasing pat on the head, and left behind. Wei Ying goes off with Lan Zhan to find the source of the problems and their new level of partnership is beautifully put on display through their fight (other things happen in that fight, too, but that’s another post).

Jiang Cheng was never allowed to truly take care of Wei Ying. His parents never let him. Wei Ying never let him. He tried, all the time, most of all when he gave himself up to the Wen soldiers. But even that was immediately undone, turned back around on him.

Wei Ying never figured out how to attain any semblance of true equilibrium in his relationship with Jiang Cheng, even after everything at Lotus Pier, especially after everything at Lotus Pier, either before or after the core transfer. Maybe if he had, things would have been different. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t have sacrificed his core to begin with.

It’s debatable how much Wei Ying expected to keep living after his core was gone. It’s even more debatable how much he really thought about anything past his own desperation in the moment, about all the promises broken with that single act, about how that would affect his relationship with anyone else. That doesn’t seem like a very Wei Ying thing to sit and think about.

Regardless, once the core was gone, he and Lan Zhan weren't equals. It messed up his relationship with Jiang Cheng, too, of course. The resentful energy was its own kind of strength but it couldn’t make up the difference in any way that counted. It just complicated everything by a thousand times and added in all kinds of new problems.

Even though Jiang Cheng had his core and Wei Ying had nothing but the tortured screams of the lost and vengeful echoing in his head, Wei Ying was still the caretaker there.

Don’t let Jiang Cheng find out the secret. Don’t let Lan Zhan become embroiled in it or expose the secret. Make sure Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli and Lotus Pier are okay. Lift Jiang Cheng up as a leader. Win the war. Apparently still be alive welp didn’t see that coming. Protect them all. Even if it means leaving.

But as much as he scrambled for strengths and leaned on his demonic cultivation he was still weak. Able to wipe out entire outposts of Wen agents yet repeatedly brought to a point where Lan Zhan could kill him easily and we know that the only way he could hope to match him would be to use this dangerous thing that's eating his soul, so shit could really get out of hand. Which wasn't really winning in the end. Demonic cultivation for him in general wasn’t strength so much as carefully-applied weakness.

Not to mention his reputation. They got so far off-balance where reputation and social standing was concerned.

Wei Ying’s merits had been contentious throughout his life--on the one hand, they're all he had to elevate himself beyond the need for the Jiangs' charity, or anyone's charity, as his status as family was so fraught and inconsistent. Being the best made all of that a moot point as much as it could be. And it also made him able to take care of said family, fulfilling all manner of "repay debt" vibes and "I'm obsessed with justice and protection" vibes.

On the other hand, they were definitely part of what made things so difficult with Jiang Cheng. Wei Ying’s reputation outclassing Jiang Cheng’s as a prodigy, a swordsman, a hero, even as he balanced it out by getting a simultaneous reputation for goofing off and being irresponsible. He did his best to make them complementary even though they were never really allowed to be.

But Jiang Cheng said it himself when he visited Wei Ying at the Burial Mounds--as soon as he started walking a different path, all of his merits and his skills and his reputation were turned upside down and used to make him a more effective villain.

So suddenly he didn’t even have any good social standing. He was mistrusted and then hated and reviled. On a number of levels, he could handle that, because it was more important to him that everyone who wasn’t him was okay. But it put him at complete odds with the great Hanguang-Jun, which was definitely something he made a point of noting more than once so we know it really, really mattered to him.

And that knowledge crept further and further in, between the war ending, things going back to some semblance of normal when he...couldn’t, and eventually him ending up in the Burial Mounds.

It was inevitable. He was the weaker one between himself and Lan Zhan, in every possible way. He knew of only one way that could go down.

It's a fear that got tangled up along with the rest of his paranoias, insecurities, traumas, resolutions, and twisted certainties pre-timeskip. On top of that, he lost a central piece of his identity and had no idea how to replace it.

If he isn't himself, who else can he be? Who else might he turn into? Someone who needs to be taken care of? Someone who might have his agency circumvented by a stronger person who thinks he knows better?

He sure did that to Jiang Cheng, and he never really had to own up to that piece of it. He never really regretted it either but he also sure didn't want to be on the other end of it.

Aside from that, Wei Ying just didn't know how to not be the strongest person. Being equal is the closest he’d ever come. He's never been allowed to be weak and taken care of unless he's play-acting and isn't that fucking heartbreaking? Fuck.

So who is he without that?

He still fought with the strengths he had and pretended to have the rest of them. And in one last great act of being the protector and caretaker, ran off to the Burial Mounds.

We do get to see Wei Ying and Lan Zhan working in tandem to bring back Wen Ning, and even though Wei Ying stumbles at the end (for the first time ever, I think, into Lan Zhan’s arms?), he does it successfully. They’re still able to work together, in spite of everything that’s happened, especially when Wei Ying is leaning into his actual talents. Even if Wei Ying’s weakness is still looming over his shoulder, as we see later.

Being with the Wens, living a simple life, leaning into his strengths, being part of a community and family, taking time to work on his scholarly/inventor hobbies, all this served to calm a lot of those fears and also conveniently take Wei Ying out of the scenarios and away from the relationships that caused them. It offered him tentative new pieces of identity to grab.

But then, of course, he lost that, too.

Post-timeskip, Wei Ying is thrust right back into a world where he has to finally face those issues. Whether you take it as he still has no core, or he has Mo Xuanyu’s really weak core, he’s not doing so great where that’s concerned.

He still has strengths. We’re not actually shown any indications that this man is weak at any point, not truly. He has a better grasp on the situation at Mo Manor than all of those precious Lan babies put together.

But we are shown that he uses a bunch of hands-on crafty tricks, talismans and spells and such. And, interestingly, in counterpoint we’re shown Lan Zhan descending from the heavens with his qin. Wei Ying doesn’t use a dizi here yet (let alone sword), and Lan Zhan doesn’t use Bichen. I do think that’s lovely.

However, Lan Zhan is still incredibly strong, in more ways than just physically: his reputation is strong, his presence is strong, his confidence is high, his mastery of the qin is unparalleled, he’s had sixteen more years to grow up and develop his golden core.

From the framing, and Wei Ying’s reactions, and the Lan juniors’ reactions, it’s pretty clear that’s the impression Wei Ying has. There’s an imbalance between them (along with alllll the other reasons he might have to want to stay away from/keep Lan Zhan out of things). He doesn’t see them as complementary, just as not-the-same.

He meets Jiang Cheng next and, hey, Jiang Cheng is actually really strong now, too (also he always was but meh). Again, Wei Ying uses his tricks to outwit and outmaneuver the situation at hand. Again, he’s struck by the impressive image of someone entering the scene like a badass.

And what a deliciously awful carousel of conflicting feelings. Pride? Despair? Longing? Love? Annoyance? Delight? Relief? Pain? Fear?

But as far as strength goes, clearly Jiang Cheng has it in buckets, now. Which means even if they still had a relationship, Jiang Cheng surely wouldn't even be the Jiang Cheng in it anymore. What a horrible realisation.

It can’t be helped much by the fact that Wei Ying almost lets himself get run through and Lan Zhan enters the scene to fucking save him. Even if it’s from the kid we know he just bested.

And that’s the back and forth we see at first. Wei Ying proving his strength and his character but the framing and his reactions proving that he’s still caught in the idea that Lan Zhan is stronger and better than him.

Lan Zhan is beloved. Lan Zhan is strong. Lan Zhan would never accidentally murder people he loved more than life itself. (OKay I won’t get into that but tell me he didn’t think that at any point I dare you)

He accepts it and plays it off as not a big deal, but it clearly is. In his rare serious moments, we see that.

So post-timeskip, Wei Ying has to figure out who he is and then how he can be said person. A significant part of the character and relationship development post-timeskip is about that.

He once again finds himself exploring uncharted territory of building relationship dynamics he’s never experienced with Lan Zhan. It started because he realised they were equals. It can’t develop further until he acknowledges that they still are.

He figures out how to be weak with Lan Zhan first, that it's safe and allowed and okay. There’s nothing wrong with being taken care of. It doesn’t have to define him and it doesn’t have to be about agency or about all the twisty psychological junk that was all wrapped up in his familial relationships at all.

Then he figures out that he still has the capacity to take care of someone like Lan Zhan back, that he’s still able to be needed, and not just someone to follow around and protect.

Wei Ying has strengths, strengths that were always there and always part of him as well as new ways he's grown and changed. He’s an inventor, he’s a genius, he’s a prodigy, he has his talismans and his music and his people skills and his teaching ability and his empathy and his heart.

All this definitely comes to a head on the steps of Jinlintai, by which point it feels like one of the only remaining imbalances that Wei Ying feels so keenly is their status, which of course Lan Zhan snuffs out utterly romantically.

It’s even more poignant that that moment comes right after Wei Ying gets Suibian back. And he's not nearly as good with it--Lan Zhan has to protect him multiple times in that fight and then of course he gets stabbed. But the point is still made, that he was still able to fight, and even his failures with the sword just drive home that this isn't who he is now. And that's okay.

By the time they're at the Burial Mounds again, Wei Ying has accepted the way they work as a team and that they can be complementary. And they fight flawlessly.

I love that growth for him.

He absolutely ends up being the Jiang Cheng, in a number of ways. He runs after Lan Zhan when he’s drunk to keep him out of trouble. He ends up left behind to take care of defenseless people while Lan Zhan runs off and has an epic sword fight in an evil fog bank.

He has to be taken from Lotus Pier, unconscious, in a boat, and is held so preciously in Lan Zhan’s arms.

But. Turns out it’s not so bad when the person you’re being Jiang Cheng for isn’t Wei Ying.

I swear this is not throwing shade at Wei Ying.

But he figures out, slowly, how to actually have a relationship built on even ground, as equals, in spite of being unequal in all the ways he used to think mattered. And he only manages it with someone once he’s on the weaker side of it.

I just think that’s super interesting.

And I think it sets a precedent for Wei Ying to understand the flaws in his old dynamic with Jiang Cheng. Especially once there aren’t secrets between them.

Everything has to change, anyway. Everything has already changed, almost two decades ago, and it isn’t going back. It can’t ever go back. Everything they were to each other was bound up in Jiang Yanli’s presence, in promises long broken, in dreams long dead, in a future that has already proved to not be real. In the old Lotus Pier, a lot of it, since they never really moved on from that, either, even back then.

Jiang Cheng has grown up. He’s raised a kid. He’s raised and trained disciples. He’s been a sect leader for over a decade and a half. He’s been to other people what he never could be to Wei Ying.

He’s also proven that he still wants his brother to fix things, still expects him to be able to. Still wants to fight, still knows how to cry. Still acknowledges fragmented pieces of their lost dynamic. Probably more of the healthy ones than Wei Ying ever has, too.

Jiang Cheng still, even in the wake of learning about the golden core, even after everything he’s built and has become, acknowledges Wei Ying as a strong person. As someone as strong as he is, if not stronger in many ways. As having the capacity of an older brother.

But then, Jiang Cheng was always able to conceptualise a world where he and Wei Ying were equals, complementary if not evenly matched, just as much as Lan Zhan was.

It wasn’t a fantasy that Wei Ying indulged him in. It was a reality that Wei Ying himself didn’t know how to accept and kept at a distance, carefully juggling too many separate parts of a whole he couldn’t allow to come together until they all crashed down.

But he’s been on the other side of it now and maybe it’s enough. Maybe he can take what he’s learned in building/rebuilding his relationship with Lan Zhan and apply it to other people. Especially Jiang Cheng.

And maybe Jiang Cheng has been a sect leader and an uncle long enough to not let Wei Ying get away with shit.

[marnie1964]

Karate Kid/Cobra Kai survey

i'm gonna consider myself tagged

It’s the year 2021 and you’re obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling?: an unexpected turn of events but it's passing the quarantine, i guess!

Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series?:  to be completely honest, i don't really like the movies? i didn't vibe with them as a kid and when i went back and tried to watch them this year i couldn't make it all the way through.* i think they're well crafted movies, but i've never liked relatable young boy wish fulfillment (i couldn't even get thru harry potter as a kid), and i think the first one is guilty of burying the lede twice over with regards to mr. miyagi and later the relationship between kreese and johnny. and lucky me--these are exactly the areas that cobra kai delivers on.

*except for the third one, which imo is a camp masterpiece and also genuinely heartbreaking. it's the only one that allows daniel to be an genuine pain in the ass. i think i've finally figured out what the target audience for cobra kai is: people who's favorite karate kid movie was tkk3 (me).

We gotta do the basics. Favorite character: johnny! what is a man but a miserable pile of bruce springsteen lyrics? or aimee mann lyrics? or mountain goats lyrics? or otis redding lyrics? or--fuck, have americans ever written songs about anyone else? i have an unreal amount of good will towards this man and his late-life struggle for recuperation. he's the heart of the show both in terms of his relationships with other characters and in terms of zabka's chemistry with the other actors.

my deep dark double secret fave is kreese. he makes me feel real anger in a way that's usually reserved for characters in vince gilligan shows. i'm a bit obsessed with him and his preoccupation with johnny and later johnny's teenaged son (I Have Thoughts). the show does a great job of making what he did to johnny--and all the years and years and years of fallout from that--feel really real, which makes him one of the most viscerally despicable villains i've ever come across . it's unironically among the best portrayals of domestic abuse i've seen, may god have mercy on our souls. the decision to pop out from behind a fucking cardboard cutout of himself to scare daniel in tkk3 was also a hilarious galaxy brain move. aspirational stuff.

also--shout out to daniel-san. the writers really had to work their asses off to make him into a character that appeals to me, and i think they did a great job of it. he's a cringey tool who's capable of displaying a surprising amount of integrity under the right circumstances! he's tom wambsgans! he's pete campbell! he's wonderful i love him!

Favorite ship:  johnny & daniel (what if mysterious skin was a sports comedy??)

Underrated character: the True and Correct answer to this question can only be aisha, although i don't think she was actually underrated by anyone besides the writers. chozen is also lowkey my favorite katate child because c'mon, he had everything (spear fights! ziplines! teen death matches! formfitting disco-era polyester button down shirts worn with gold chains!)

Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol):  uhhhh... the only teen couple that could have been interesting is tory/aisha. they were cute together and their friendship rang true to me. it's that thing where you're the new girl and you're conventionally attractive, but on the inside you know you're a freak so you immediately gravitate towards the most obvious female outsider. i lived it, bay-bey!

i also think there are interesting things to explore with carmen and johnny's relationship. i don't know if the writers are even aware of it (i lean towards no b/c men amirite) but the entire premise of carmen's character is that she chose to live in poverty to protect herself and her son from a bad man with power. she's thereby the exact opposite of johnny's mother, who (at least by his understanding) married hollywood film producer shmarvey shmeinstein to provide her son with a better life. so, there's a lot to unpack in his attraction to her. also they're super hot hur hur i like sexy nurse thing hur hur.

Wax On, Wax Off or Sweep the Leg?: i can't look directly at it, but sweep the leg. zabka what the fuck man.

Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favorite?:  i don't think i've seen anyone mention this one yet, but the football jersey with the sweatpants. it makes him look so small and huggable, i wanna pick him up and set him on my shelf or something.

Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver: bring back ali's lesbian girl gang!!! or else--dutch. he was funny and iconic, i loved his exaggerated offended reaction to everything daniel said or did in tkk. also, i'm tacky so i'm a sucker for aggressively bleach blonde hair. the SCANDALIZED wasp couple standing behind ali and johnny in the spaghetti scene will also do. or terry's secretary (an mvp--i believe the original actress has passed away so in my heart of hearts she's portrayed by j. smith-cameron).

Scene that lives in your head rent-free: the whole character development speed run that johnny does from sweep the leg to crying while handing daniel the trophy to getting strangled in the parking lot by his beloved teacher. i'm especially transfixed by that last bit--what's the thought process of a man who decides to publicly execute his teenage student via strangulation? why did none of the many bystanders call the police? johnny is the real kitty genovese, prison for everyone.

from the cobra kai series proper: daniel's decision to greet johnny with a big hug after not seeing him for 35 years and never actually being friends with him (I Have Thoughts), the heinously creepy scene where johnny is repeating the cobra kai mantra for miguel and his entire disposition completely changes (demonic possession shit), and johnny's tiny go-ahead-and-kill-my-abuser nod (his face is so stoney after being so animated at dinner) coupled with daniel's shaky little sign of relief (macchio is really the cutest when he looks scared).

it goes without saying that every johnny & miguel scene lives rent free in my HEART.

Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?: anthony becomes relevant for one (1) episode next season when amanda and daniel finally get around to putting him up for adoption.

You live in The Valley and are forced into the karate gang war.  Which dojo do you join?:  i enter the cobra kai dojo decked out in all of my snake-themed clothing and jewelry (it's a lot). i approach kreese and explain to him that the open mouth of a snake, viewed head-on, is a yonic symbol. i am permanently banned from the cobra kai dojo.

(seriously though, assuming i'm a teen in this scenario i think i would have vibed with tory/miguel/aisha. dimitri and sam would have driven high school me up the fucking wall though. the cobra kai style looks like more fun/better exercise. do i also genuinely believe most young girls could actually benefit from someone yelling no mercy down their neck? maybe so 💖)

What’s your training montage song?:  50ft queenie - pj harvey (it takes place in the alison bechdel feminist karate dojo ofc)

It’s the crossover event of the century! Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special?: it's a full episode flashback to the time johnny got arrested in albuquerque, new mexico. johnny's court-appointed attorney is a weirdly hot babe who seems like a super straight laced killjoy at first, but soon reveals herself to be an unhinged woman. one thing leads to another, and johnny winds up in bed with her and her loser husband. there are lots of great themes about punitive justice, people's ability to change for the better (and worse), and what makes someone "good" or "bad" to begin with, but mostly it's just really hot sex. the husband tries to sell johnny a prepaid cellphone and johnny tell's him that cellphones are never gonna catch on, cause who want's to be bothered by people all the time like that?

better call saul. it's a better call saul crossover ep.

(fwiw think that greg 'hbo succession' hirsch should also be terry's cousin greg on the non-roy side. think about it--the roys are small people, but cousin greg is really tall?? and who else is really tall, and a blue eyed brunette to boot? terry silver. it all adds up! this never becomes relevant to the plot, in any case, i'm just considering it canon until the writers come to my house and explicitly tell me i'm wrong.)

Tagging: anyone who's interested 😘

[thethirdamell]

I’ve seen a lot of people posting a few writing memes about fic titles so I just wanted to break down where all of mine have come from and what they mean in Accursed Ones because I’m bored. Probably nothing you don’t already know in here

1. Awakening  - Name of the game + Anders literally waking up + metaphorically waking up and understanding his obligation to help 2. Nothing For It - Mean to imply that Anders had no alternative but to help and be helped by Amell in turn 3. Conscription  - What it says on the tin 4. Joining  - What it says on the tin 5. It Comes From Beneath  - Name of the quest 6. Last of the Legion  - Name of the quest 7. Memories of the Stone  - Name of the quest 8. A Night of Revelry - Meant to be ironic considering what happens 9. Freedom for Anders  - Name of the quest 10. Freedom for Anders Part Two - Name of the quest 11. The Righteous Path  - Name of the quest 12. In Retreat, Panic  - A play on the Grey Warden motto. (Also my favorite chapter in the story.) 13. All Soul's Day - Name of the annum 14. The Dark Theurge  - Name of the demon 15. Paramour  - Name of the achievement for a romance 16. Ground Rules - Ground rules for a relationship 17. Lost in Dreams  - Name of a similar quest 18. Far Afield - Name of the quest 19. Far Afield Part Two - Name of the quest 20. Uprising  - Name of the quest 21. The Resolutionist and The Aequitarian - Amell and Wynne’s respective fraternities  22. Serpents High, Angels Low - Both the rules of the team’s card game and an over-arching theme of the fic where things that are presumed to be good/evil are often the reverse.  23. Malleus Maleficarum  - The name of a treatise on witchcraft elevating sorcery to heresy and a song Malleus Maleficarum by Ordo Funebris 24. Shadows of the Blackmarsh  - Name of the quest 25. The Blackmarsh Undying  - Name of the quest 26. Pride Goes Before Destruction - A reference to the Pride demon and Amell’s pride in thinking he can handle it 27. And a Haughty Spirit Before a Fall - A reference to Justice and Anders falling for Amell 28. The Apple And The Tree - A quote about Amell being like his father 29. Lullabies - A Song - Lullabies by Yuna 30. Fools Gold - Meant to reference both Quentin and Anders’ happiness. Also a song Fools Gold Fitz and the Tantrums.  31. Eyes of the Beholder - A play off “Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder” meant to reference the difference between Amell and Anders’ perspectives on losing his eyes.  32. Blame it on the Night - Meant to indicate what happened isn’t Anders’ fault. Also a song - Blame it on the Night by Calvin Harris  33. White Lies, Red Eyes - A reference to both the colors of the Amell family and Amell’s personality 34. Spirits and Demons - What it says on the tin 35. Love is Blind - An overarching theme in the story. 36. Satinalia - Name of the annum 37. Brothers and Sisters - A reference to Wardens and Anders still having family without Amell.  38. Score One for Our Heroes - Meant to be ironic. Also a quote from Anders. 39. Out of Control - The current state of things and also a reference to A Leader on Losing Control by Corb Lund which is a Leonie song.  40. Justice for Naught - Meant to imply that sometimes there is no justice but you have to keep trying anyway 41. Here's to Us Blighters - What Oghren says when night is darkest 42. Bold and Brazen and Beautiful - Amell’s description of Anders 43. Monsters and Men - Self explanatory for Justice/Anders.  44. The Best Intentions - Oft Go Awry is Unspoken  45. Blessed Are the Peacekeepers - A quote from the Chant of Light 46. Champions of the Just - The rest of the quote. Meant to be ironic.  47. The Black City - A reference to both Kirkwall and the actual Black City 48. Rip Up Your Roots - A quote from Cor and what Anders does to cope, but the follow up, “You ain’t gonna have a tree.” is equally important.  49. A Good Man - A quote from Lirene about Anders 50. First Day - The name of the annum 51. As The Crow Flies - Foreshadowing Anders learning shapeshifting 52. Wintersend - Name of the annum 53. Chasing the Sun - Name of a song. Chasing the Sun by the Wanted.  54. Doubts and Revelations - What it says on the tin 55. Birds of a Feather - Flock together. Both a joke about shapeshifting and Kanders.  56. Snap - What it says on the tin 57. Ray of Sunshine - Joke on Bethany’s name 58. Oopsy Daisy - Joke on Merrill’s name 59. Pretty Reckless - Meant to reference both Anders and Hawke’s behavior.  60. Let's Try This Again - What it says on the tin 61. A Preoccupation with Spirits - A joke about Justice and alcohol 62. Meetings - What it says on the tin 63. Acquainted - Basically just Meetings Part 2 64. Bloodline Part One -  What it says on the tin 65. Bloodline Part Two -  What it says on the tin 66. Trail of Love - Name of the quest but also references Anders’ many past and future loves. Amell, Karl, Isabela, Hawke.  67. Rude Awakening - A call back to the first chapter meant to show how much Anders has changed. Anders takes on the role of Amell here and Hawke takes on the role of Anders with respects to Blood Magic.  68. Safe Harbors - A joke about sex with Isabela 69. The Best Laid Plans - Oft Go Awry is implicit.  70. Oft Go Awry -  What it says on the tin 71. All New, Faded For Him - This was an anagram like the quest in DAI but I can’t remember what it is an anagram for. RIP 72. A Year Ago Today -  What it says on the tin 73. Friends in Low Places - Name of the quest  74. No Turning Back -  What it says on the tin 75. Senior Warden Anders -  What it says on the tin 76. Bodies So Maimed - Quote from the Chant of Light about darkspawn 77. Down in the Dark with the Dead - A quote from Eli 78. Up in the Light with the Life - The opposite of the above quote 79. A Day for Silence - Name of the annum 80. My Failing and My Falling Part One - A line from Anders’ story for Nika and a reference to Hawke’s failure to protect his sister.  81. My Failing and My Falling Part Two - Same as above 82. Pain and Bane - Name of the poem Merrill sings. Also an overarching theme of the story 83. Luck of the Dog - Reference to the Dog Lords but also ironic considering Anders is not lucky.  84. Bird's Eye View - Both a reference to Anders’ transformation magic and his perspective on the Circles and how Bethany doesn’t share them 85. Act of Mercy - Name of the quest 86. The Revolutionists - Name of Decimus’s fraternity 87. Burn After Reading - what it says on the tin 88. Not in Hand, Not in Play - A quote from the chapter but also Fenris’ perspective on love and a theme of the story. It is or it isn’t.  89. Enemies Among Us - Name of the quest 90. Save Me - What it says on the tin 91. Benedictions - A Canticle in the Chant of Light that makes Hawke think of Anders 92. What Will The Neighbors Think? - A mini-theme throughout the story regarding Anders (in)ability to be openly in a relationship, be it with Amell, Justice, Hawke, etc.  93. Have Your Pie and Eat it Too - What Anders keeps trying and failing to do 94. Dead Set on Ending Badly - Foreshadowing  95. Where We Stand - Where Hawke and Anders’ relationship stands 96. Hearts of Gold or Near Enough - Meant to apply to all of the main characters 97. Ghilan’him Banal’vhen - The Path that Leads Astray. Foreshadowing. 98. Abstention and Absolution - Meant to be Ironic 99. Until the Last Dog is Hung - What it says on the tin 100. Free To Good Home - References the mages, Dog Lords, and also Anders 101. It Gets Easier - Narrator Voice: It did not get easier. 102. Luxury of Leaning - A reference to Hawke not having the option to pursue men as the scion of a noble house but doing it anyway because fuck you mom. 103. Dissent - Name of the quest 104. Into Madness - Play on words. Descend into Madness / Dissent into Madness 105. Fester - What it says on the tin 106. The First Sacrifice - Name of the quest 107. Once Removed - Play on words. A reference to Amell/Hawke’s Eyes and Quentin being Hawke’s cousin once removed.  108. Not Again - Haha get wrekt  109. All That Remains - Name of the quest 110. The Way Forward - A reference to Fenris’ quote about the stairs being out. Meant to symbolize that there are no other options for Anders, Hawke, and the narrative as a whole. Also, ironically, meant to show that Hawke does not actually move forward.  111. Lyrium and Lies - Foreshadowing 112. Ser Cumference and the Terrible Tower - A children’s tale vibe meant to show the dichotomy of man.  113. The Calm Before - Foreshadowing for the name of the next chapter.  114. The Storm - What was foreshadowed.  115. Long Time No See - A reference to both not seeing Amell for a long time and Amell not being able to see for a long time.  116. To Catch a Thief - Name of the quest 117. To Save a Sinner - Similar naming methodology of the previous chapter meant to show Isabela is more than just a thief.  118. On Deaf Ears - Both Hawke being deaf and Hawke not agreeing with Anders. 119. Hey Sparkles - Meant to give a “It’s gonna be okay dude” vibe.  120. Give Me A Sign - Sign language reference but also a plea for Hawke and Anders’ relationship to get better. 121. We Should Talk - About both Hawke and Amell, but Amell is the only one Anders talks to in this chapter.  122. The Weight of Years - Shit’s heavy 123. How Have You Been? - Asking the dangerous questions again 124. Spin a Story - Varric’s terrible advice to Anders but also Amell’s approach to interacting with Anders after they’ve been apart for so long. 125. Give and Take Part One - Commentary on Anders relationship with both Amell and Hawke.  126. Give and Take Part Two - See above  127. What You Make It - What love is according to Fenris 128. Letters from the Vigil - What it says on the tin 129. Consent is Key - A quote from the chapter and commentary on responsible use of blood magic.  130. What Have You Done Now? - A song. What Have you Done Now by Within Temptation 131. But This is All I Ever Was - A song lyric. Ditmas by Mumford & Sons 132. Wasted Time - Also a song lyric from Ditmas but like accidentally. 

[raziroo]

2. Demon Child (Pt. I) - Remus Lupin

Pairing : Remus Lupin x Reader

Genre : Angst, teeny weeny fluff.

Warnings : Abusive home conditions, mentions of death, graphic descriptions of death.

Word Count : 4,581

~~~~~

Seven months. Seven months I'd spent with him, and had fallen in love with him, rather unfortunately, might I add. Because even though I knew I loved him ever since the kiss, it was an even more surreal feeling, knowing that finally, finally I was in love. Finally I had become capable to feel humane emotions in appropriate proportions after a long, numb seven years.

But then she came back. Crystal Hollander came back, and ruined everything that was good in my life, just like she had in my sixth year. 

.....

The Death Eater attack was unexpected and out of the blue; therefore the deaths and injuries were in such great proportions.

Sadly, painfully, torturously, Cynthia had also perished in the attack, simply due to Crystal being her usual dumb self. The girl, in all her blonde hair and knife-like nailed glory, had been thick enough to not keep her eyes on the Death Eater she and three other witches were duelling, Cynthia included. 

The Death Eater took advantage of the split-second distraction, obviously, and so Cynthia jumped in front of Crystal, shielding the latter, and getting hit by the curse instead. It hadn't been the Killing Curse, however; the Death Eater had used a curse that melted your insides. 

And I, along with all the other horrified spectators, could do nothing but watch as my friend screamed and cried and groaned, all noises of pure and utter agony. Her body was disintegrating in such a grotesque fashion, you wouldn't be able to fathom what I saw unless you saw it too. 

Finally, her body fully vanished, no trace of her left, and the Death Eater who had attacked her let out a laugh. Unmasking himself, I saw a face I certainly wouldn't have expected to see in a million years. Cynthia's father, Magnus Fawley, the man who was supposed to be dead. 

And as the moments passed, I continued staring at the hysteric man, my blood boiling, my eyes seeing red. Before I, or anyone, for that matter, could do anything, the Death Eaters had all apparated away. 

Cynthia hadn't been built a memoir like all the other deceased witches and wizards, even with eyewitnesses. The ministry simply wasn't ready to believe that Cynthia was innocent and hadn't let her father and company into Hogwarts, that she was the victim. 

There hasn't been a grave made for her either; what would they even bury? Every fiber of my friend's being had been cursed out of existence, and the Ministry couldn't even give her a memoir. I had been furious, livid, to say the least, and was ready to kill. 

My mood had again shifted to that ferocious animal that didn't let anyone close, didn't break down her walls for anyone; the type of person that people would want to keep away from. My entire seventh year had been spent fighting for my friend's grave; I hadn't even cared if I didn't pass my N.E.W.T.s, I just wanted a memoir for my friend, justice for her, proof, that Cynthia Rosamond Fawley, a pure blood Slytherin, was innocent, that she wasn't involved in the Death Eater attack. Of course, except the eyewitnesses, no one was ready to believe me. Even some of the eyewitnesses had turned away, not wanting to be declared as 'crazy' in the Daily Prophet, as I had been. 

However, by the end of 1978, I had realized that there was no way in heaven or hell that these dumb wizards and witches would be accepting of my friend's innocence. That didn't mean that I stopped fighting, I did, just a lot more quietly.

On a pleasant day of March of 1979, I'd been sitting in this coffee shop near the end of Diagon Alley, researching a book called "Lethal Jinxes and Curses - 101 Ways to Get Away with Murder Without Using an Unforgivable".

Me reading the book could be suspicious to some, as the aura I radiated suited the book's genre and title; I, however, had no lethal intentions, I just wanted to research what the inside-melting curse was called. I obviously recognised the curse because I'd read about it somewhere, I'd just forgotten it's name. Hence the book.

I was more than a bit startled, then, when somebody chose to sit in the seat opposite me, in the most secluded corner of the little cafe. Not looking up, I droned, "Whichever painfully idiotic moron has decided to sit opposite me, please leave." The person made no move. "Now."

"Why do you want me to leave?" questioned a mildly familiar voice. Finally removing my eyes off of the text, I was shocked to see a lanky, sand-haired, scar-faced, secret-keeping Gryffindor before me - Remus Lupin.

Raising an eyebrow, I leaned back in my chair, staring right into the boy's green-blue eyes. He kept my gaze for a long period of time, before ultimately adressing the elephant in the room, my gaze still unwavering. "Why are you here, Gryffindor?"

He immediately responded. "Does there have to be a reason? I just wanted to sit here."

"Here? In front of the crazy Slytherin who's dumbly defending her guilty pureblood friend? You shouldn't. After all, you and the... Marauders have quite a reputation to uphold, don't you think? Gryffindor's Golden students?" I asked, in a heavily mocking tone. 

He didn't seem fazed. "We don't think you're dumb."

I had almost responded in a biting retort, when I realized what the man said. "'We'? Who's 'we'?"

He slipped up. It was clear in his expression. "The Marauders," he said, so smoothly I would almost have been convinced. Almost. "Don't lie to me, Gryffindor."

"Why do yo-?"

"Look Gryffindor, when you've gone through the amount of lying that I've done, you can catch a liar from a mile away. Also, you're a pretty bad liar, in comparison to your other buddies." I jumped my eyebrows.

The man opened his mouth to speak several times, closing it always, striking resemblance to a fish. He looked down at his lap, finally breaking the gaze. My eyes, however, were still set on him. 

"By 'we', I meant the Order of the Phoenix," he said the last part quietly. 

"Order of the Phoenix? What's that?" I asked, leaning forward and resting my palms on the table, actually interested.

"It's... The reason I'm here," he said, looking up. "Your friend... Cynthia, right?"

"Right."

"A couple of my friends were present there, they're eyewitnesses. They saw whatever... And well, I'm sorry for your lo-"

"Don't apologise, Lupin, just get on with what you have to say. I don't have the whole day, you know," I said, exasperated and curious. 

"The Order was impressed by your determination to prove Cynthia innocent and get a memoir built for her, even when the Ministry has declared you 'deranged'. Even your duelling skills are pretty good... And with all the reading you do," he motioned to the book with his eyes, "I- the Order thinks that you'd make a good member."

"Hm. And what exactly does the Order do?" I had to say, I would certainly appreciate if I was accepted in this Order thing. Just... I needed to know what work they did. 

"We're a secret rebellion against Voldemort. We-"

"No."

Lupin looked surprised. "Pardon?"

"I said no, Gryffindor," my tone was sharp and cutting. 

"OK, at least think about your decis-"

"No, Gryffindor. Thank you," and with that, I got up and stormed out. I couldn't possibly agree to that. Those people would only end up getting hurt. 

•••••

My dream, or rather, nightmare, hadn't been a pleasant one. 

I was standing on... Something, I couldn't make out what. Why? Because even though I was able to see my body, my hands clearly, my surroundings were so very dark. The inky blackness extended to as far as my eyes would go, and it was scary. 

Wanting answers, I treaded forward with caution, my hands held out in front of me so as to be able to make out if there were walls surrounding me. I walked left for about a minute, no walls. Right for the same time period, nothing there as well. I went as far as I possibly could without beginning to hyperventilate. 

Somehow, I had managed to slip, and was now falling at a great speed. My arms and legs were extended out above me, my torso falling as if it carried weight. I tried moving, flailing my arms or something, but it was as if I was paralyzed. 

Finally, after a terrifyingly long period of falling into an abyss of ebony, my body landed. In... a dining hall, it seemed like? The place had an ominous vibe to it, a sinister vibe. I instantly knew there was danger lurking here; the aura the place radiated was enough to tell me that. There was a long dining table in the centre of the room, chairs lining both it's sides, with one chair at the head of the table. 

Just as I was about to take a step forward to investigate, I heard a whisper-y voice, one that gave me goosebumps. Being it soft, the voice was still blood-curdling; I knew the owner of the voice wasn't one to be messed with. 

"Welcome, brother," the voice said. And suddenly, my mind went blank. I think my mouth was open, and I was speaking, but I couldn't make out what I was saying. It was as if I had retarded to a subconscious state, while my body was being controlled by another. 

Just as I heard a booming laugh, my eyes snapped open, and I found my vision focusing on the ceiling of my room.

•••••

Over the past couple weeks, I had been constantly having such nightmares, and I was losing sleep. My body was restless at night, and throughout the day my mind was occupied with thoughts of the voice, and how after a greeting to 'brother', my mind routinely blacked out, until the very last moment. 

My boss had already threatened to fire me, and I certainly wasn't keen on losing my job; I had an apartment to pay for. My anxiety levels had increased by an unhealthy amount, and that was the precise reason I was currently waiting to speak with the receptionist of St. Mungo's. 

I had been waiting in the line for about 10 minutes, and I was, as recent usuality, was contemplating my dreams. That voice, it had seemed recognisable, like I'd heard it before, but I just couldn't remember where; the name was always on my tongue, but due to some reason or the other, I was always interrupted. 

The most recent time was when-

BANG! 

An explosion rang out throughout the hospital's first floor, the floor directly above us. A large chunk of the floor fell down, crushing a couple people underneath, as dust and gravel rose up, making me and other witches and wizards cough. I snatched out my wand from its holster, ready to take on any threats that approached. 

I had been right in doing so, because not a moment later a hoard of Death Eaters stormed the hospital; the patients all ran around screaming and shielding their children, apparating away, while the healers and nurses scampered around summoning aurors and trying to control the mess. A group of Death Eaters attacked the group of people I was standing with, so without a second thought, I threw a spell at them. And then it began, a duel, a series of harmful and offensive spells, beams and flashes of light, and a lot of swearing and cursing on my part. 

After, what I assume were, a couple minutes, aurors and Ministry officials flooded the place, and the Death Eaters were getting overpowered. However, I soon spotted a familiar face; a couple of them, actually. Remus Lupin and James Potter, duelling against Magnus Fawley and Rabastan LeStrange. 

LeStrange soon caught my eye, and nudged his partner-in-crime. As the Death Eaters' attention shifted to me, so did the Gryffindors'. The Vipers approached me, and before they even got a chance of coming close, I fired. Now, look, I had no doubt that the Gryffindors weren't good duellers, they were pretty good; it was just the Death Eaters I was worried about, the spells they knew. Because even if they were good, the Gryffindors had no idea of what appalling spells the Dark Lord taught his followers. 

The three of us Slytherins were now caught in a frenzy of curses and jinxes, the Gryffindors had been caught up in fighting a few other mask-bearers, a couple of their companions had joined in as well. 

"You know that I won't hesitate to kill you, right?" Magnus jeered at me, our wands still moving. 

"Oh, I have no doubt. After all, you killed your own daughter, Magnus Fawley, you absolute bastard," I retorted, more than a little out of breath. 

He scowled. "It was for the Greater Good, child! It is all for the Greater Good!" he exclaimed. "Join our ranks, and you will get all that you deserve, but don't have! Your power will be put to correct use!"

I stayed silent for a couple moments, actually considering the idea. LeStrange and Fawley looked hopeful. "Not in a million years, you bloody-" I then proceeded to put to use my extremely colorful vocabulary. 

He sneered, and the intensity of his spells increased. 

I was running out of energy, and I may even have escaped, for there were other people coming forth to involve themselves in the vicious duel, but a spell hit me on the back of my head, and my senses went blank. 

•••••

I hated Voldemort. That noseless git was incredibly infuriating, but also extremely powerful; his aura exuded power. I hated being held hostage in the Malfoy Manor, and have various Death Eaters mock me. 

But the true shock came when Voldemort himself came to visit me in my cell, and he said two words that I would've never imagined would be said by him. "Welcome, brother, " the Dark Lord greeted in his raspy, breathy voice, and I screamed. Screamed because I was experiencing unbearable pain in my head and chest; I writhed and thrashed in hopes to escape the binds of the chains that held me in the cell. 

Some time later, I don't know how much later, as I'd been busy screaming my insides out, the pain finally stopped. Looking up, I met eyes with the Dark Lord himself. He looked down at me. 

"hm. Are you aware of the fact, that a spirit lies within you?" Way to be straightforward. 

"Like... Ghosts? "I was honestly baffled.

"No, an ancient form of magic, which I'm positive you aren't familiar with. This particular form of magic is especially difficult to carry out; after all, transferring a dead spirit to a living human's body is an exceptional instance."

"So... Ghosts, basically."

"No! Foolish child... It is my brother, my deceased brother, who has taken home within your body. That is the precise reason you have been experiencing...nightmares, over the past few weeks. I prefer to call them visions-"

"I don't care what you prefer. And... Did you even have a brother, Tom? "

His eyes grew a startling scarlet, expression still stoic. "Do not call me that. And yes, I did have a brother. One who was killed by Dumbledore at an early age... Of 16. Dumbledore was afraid of what would happen if me and my brother succeeded in doing what we planned to, so he killed him... " 

I was so not ready for that. 

I had honestly forgotten the number of times Voldemort had come to my cell to talk to his brother, and how many times I had wanted to die instead of bear that pain. I was sure that I was already on the verge of insanity; the affliction was so bad, I couldn't even utter a single word. 

I so desperately wanted to tell someone about what was happening; if Voldemort found some way to resurrect his brother, the wizarding war would be already lost. One Voldemort was enough, we didn't need two. 

The free time also gave me a lot of pondering to do; I now understood my father's nickname for me, I knew that I needed to join The Order. If not that, I had to at least talk to Dumbledore, or even Lupin. This... Soul(?) that was in me, and the pain it gave me, I felt like I was in a muggle horror movie; I was as good as possessed by a demonic spirit. 

And as if the pain Voldemort's conversation with his brother gave me wasn't bad enough, there were his psycho Death Eaters, who were hell bent on making me pay for all the humiliation some of them had to suffer because of me. What can I say, I was pretty savage. 

Then there was Bellatrix, who was another case altogether; she seemed attracted to me. And maybe, maybe, I was overthinking, but the sexual tension between the both of us was palpable, it could literally be cut with a knife. She came close to my face often, licked her lips, seductively, and had ran her eyes over my body Merlin knows how many times. And I'd have to be lying to say that I didn't find her at least a bit attractive as well. However insane and cruel and psychotic might she be, I couldn't possibly say that she wasn't easy on the eyes. 

All in all, only Salazar could help me out of this situation. 

•••••

I had been asleep in an excruciatingly uncomfortable position on the floor of the cell, when I woke up to violent noises and shouts of people. I was certain that the voices were coming from the floor above me. I had only begun to actually process the situation in my half-asleep form when a hiss of "Greetings, brother," rang out in my ears, triggering the immense agony and torment that I so hated. I didn't really recall when I started sobbing, or when the headache actually went away, because now there was pain throughout my entire body. It was probably the Cruciatus curse; that wasn't the surprising thing though. It was the fact that this pain was just as bad as the headache, and considering all the other torture sessions that I'd previously had, this wasn't Lucy, or even Fawley. This was Bellatrix. 

Well, I guess she wasn't that attracted to me after all. 

I could fairly hear a deranged-sounding laughter; that was Bellatrix. After a couple seconds, I also made out a shrill scream; that was Bellatrix as well. 

The same time as she screamed, my agony stopped as well. I could honestly kiss whoever hurt that bitc- sorry, malicious... she-git. 

However, my pain hadn't really... Reduced, like it did after Voldemort's conversations ended; after he was done, there was only this sharp throbbing behind my right ear, I had gotten used to it. This aching, this soreness that I felt was the tormenting aftereffect of an even more tormenting torture session that I had just encountered. I was still gasping for breath, and even that caused me so much pain, I let out a few shouts in between. 

I was aware of the fact that the Cruciatus curse didn't have aftereffects this bad, even Bella's didn't. This pain I felt was because unlike normal, two people were feeling it; not only my conscious form, even my subconscious mind was also feeling the pain. I was feeling the pain, and so was Voldemort's brother. 

I could see a few people above me... a couple of redheads, a black-haired person, and a sandy-haired one. The Gryffindor and his friends. They cast a couple spells on me, and my pain reduced by a considerable amount. I was able to breathe properly, at least. Thank Merlin. 

My eyes closed, I managed to let out a breathy word. "Dumbledore."

"Dumble-? Why would you-? Di- did something happen?" I couldn't really make out who it was; my ears were still ringing. 

"It's not what happened, Gryffindor," I let out a breath and opened my eyes. "It's what will happen if you don't take me to him."

"My wand," I said, as we walked through the homely-looking corridor of The Order's headquarters. I stopped, turning to Lupin, who had his hand around me in an awkward attempt to help me walk. And it did help me walk, it was just that the situation was slightly awkward; we were as good as enemies at Hogwarts. 

He looked back at me, before glancing to his redhead friend, Fabian, I think. I wasn't sure though, even when he pulled out my wand from his coat pocket. His twin and him looked too similar for me to Ba able to differentiate. 

"Thank you," I said, taking my wand back; I felt slightly better and in control as soon as it came in my grip. 

About a minute later, we were at a mahogany door, on which one of the twins knocked. "Come in," said a muffled voice from inside. When the door was opened, I came across a sight which was - I had to admit - slightly intimidating. Around a long table, seated were many familiar people. Moody, McKinnon, the Longbottoms, Potter and Evans, Pettigrew, Shacklebolt, and a few of the Hogwarts professors, Dumbledore among them, sat at the head of the table. I raised an eyebrow, as all eyes turned to us. 

Most of the eyes held suspicion; I was a Slytherin, after all. 

"Yes?" Dumbledore asked in his ever-so-gentle voice. 

"Profe-" Black began, but I cut him off. 

"I need to talk to you, Professor."

"Well, you can do it here as well, miss," he said, motioning around to the group of people. "I trust each of them with my life."

"I would appreciate it if it was only between both of us, professor. You trust them, I don't." I ran my eyes over the table, landing them back at Dumbledore. 

"Well then, follow me."

•••••

After the conversation with Dumbledore, I had been kept in a room in the Order's headquarters, so that I could heal. Each day, I got food, clothes, and was nursed back to health. 

I was grateful, but that didn't stop me from escaping the cottage. I felt so out of place, and if i added the looks I got on top of that, well, Merlin save me. My guilt complex had come into unwanted use; I had no reason to feel guilty, but yet I did. So, unlike I should have, I escaped the order's HQ while the members were in missions, and Molly was busy taking care of Bill. But not without a 'thank you' note though. 

•••••

I had been sitting in my spot in the coffee shop, reading "Potions and Poisons: Revised Edition" when a familiar face took the seat opposite me. 

"What is it, Gryffindor?"

"How do you know it's me?" I could practically hear the raised brow in his voice. 

"Because all the other people in this cafe are scared of me," I said, my tone indifferent. 

"And... That doesn't bother you?"

"When I was eleven, it did. Now I'm comfortable with it."

"What...?"

I finally looked up, coming face-to-face with a befuddled Lupin. "People have always stayed away from me. I don't even remember how much I've cried because of that. But now it's my safe place, being alone," I shrugged. Lupin looked troubled. "Look Gryffindor, you think it's strange because you were never really lonely. I always was, so it's comfortable for me. I don't really know how to stay in parties or stuff. It's human nature; getting used to how you live."

"But... You did have a friend."

"Who's dead now, courtesy of her father," I said nonchalantly. "Anyways, Gryffindor, what's you here for?"

"I- uh, nothing, really... I guess... I wanted to talk to you...?" he looked nervous. I studies his face for a moment more, and then chuckled. He looked surprised. "What's funny?"

"You, Gryffindor. You didn't know why you came to me? And talking to me was questionable? That's offending."

"I- no! No, no, I wasn't-" I burst out laughing. The poor Gryffindor looked so troubled. 

"Relax, Lupin. I was being sarcastic."

•••••

It was now November of 1979, and it was unbelievable how close I had gotten to Lupin. We would often meet in the cafe, or sometimes in the old library in Hogsmeade, or even in the outskirts of the forest of the Shrieking Shack. 

And as much as it felt weird and strange and unlike me to say so, I had begun having feelings towards the man. He was polite, sassy, sarcastic, bookish, and so much more. He was so like me, yet so different. And I knew by what Dumbledore had said, we would both end up getting hurt in the end, if something ever happened. I often got the hint that my feelings were reciprocated, but I felt foolish each time I thought so. This was Remus Lupin we were talking about, Gryffindor prefect, studious pupil, fun and popular student, part of the Marauders, friends with James Potter and Sirius Black. Why would he be attracted to me, a loner, resented by purebloods, Hufflepuffs were scared of me, and Gryffindors loathed me simply because I was a Slytherin. And even if he did, it would never work out, not in a million years. With Voldemort part two's soul in me, I was basically satanically possessed. 

So when I got the news that the Gryffindor and his friends had been maimed while on a mission, as the headlines screamed, I was worried out of my mind. I had literally apparated to St. Mungo's while I was on the five minute break of my muggle job. 

"Um, where is the Gryff- sorry, uh, Mr. Remus Lupin's ward? He'll be with Sirius Black and James Potter, probably Lily Evans as well," I blurted to the St. Mungo's receptionist. She looked a bit startled, but helped me out nonetheless. "Room 308."

"Thanks a lot," I said, then rushed up to the third floor. I then took a couple of deep breathes, trying to calm myself down. Once that was done, I proceeded to stride to room no. 308, and as I opened the door, my eye instantly caught the warm light green ones of Lupin. I let out a breath, relief flooding me, as my eyes scanned his body, stood behind Potter, who was talking to Black, who lay on the bed. 

"Wh- what are you doin-" I cut him off, however, as I went forward, and without a second thought, cupped my hands around the man's face, and kissed him. He didn't move his lips for the first second, which filled me with dread, but then he melted into the kiss as well, placing his hands on my waist. Separating for breath, I chuckled at the man's expression, then hugged the life out of him. He hugged me back. 

Pulling back, I bit my lip. "I like you, Gryffindor, if that wasn't clear until now," I blurted out, a slight smile on my face. 

He laughed. "The feelings are mutual," he said, blushing. I looked around the room, chuckling as well. When my eyes met the surprises faces of Evans, Black, and Potter, I just shrugged. "What?"

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

Witches, Chapter 22: catching up with some old friends

[Seelie of Kurain Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

[Witches Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

----

At the end of August, a hand-drawn - some of the graphite or charcoal or whatever it is that smears off onto Apollo’s hands when he opens the envelope - invitation arrives at the Wright Anything Agency. Addressed to Mr Justice, Ms Trucy, and Mr Wright, it cordially welcomes them over to Deauxnim Studios on Saturday. “Guess Larry finally found a place he wanted to get settled,” Phoenix says, picking up the envelope and turning it over. “He’s been bouncing around for a while.”

He passes the envelope back to Apollo, and on the back side of it, a scribble on the flap in a childish, spiky scrawl, very different than Vera’s writing, reads, V. says your new lawyer can come too, forgot about her. 

“Better not let Athena see that.” Phoenix chuckles. “She’d hate to think she’s forgettable, even to a girl she’s never met.”

Apollo and Trucy arrive first on Saturday, after grabbing ramen for lunch somewhere that isn’t Eldoon’s, leaving Apollo with a strange guilty feeling that he isn’t patronizing Salt Hell. It’s a weird thing to think. Like he’s grown attached to that place, whether he wanted to or not.

He spent the morning, before he left his apartment, arguing with himself about whether or not he needed to bring iron with him. He doesn’t want to hurt Vera by accident, but he’s wandering into an unknown household of Mr Wright’s acquaintance, and that gives him a real sense of fear. Like sure, he’s met Larry before, but the guy accidentally became a witch. Doesn’t really inspire much confidence. And Apollo can’t even ask Clay’s opinion, because he never told Clay that Vera is a changeling, and he doesn’t want to get into that. In the end, he decides that he’ll be careful, but it’s better to take precautions, and slipped the iron ring onto his finger. 

No one answers the door but Trucy tests the handle, finds it unlocked, and bounds right in. Apollo decides that he can’t really be faulted if he’s following her to keep her out of trouble, and heads in after. “Helloooo!” she calls, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Vera! Uncle Larry! We’re here for the artists’ loft grand tour!”

Apollo wouldn’t call it a loft, but the fact that it’s an artist den is obvious. On the wall right in front of them there’s a half-finished mural of a snowy landscape. To the left, canvases and poster boards spill out through a doorway, resting on the floor and propped up against the walls, depicting landscapes and fruit bowls, the Steel Samurai, a portrait of Vera with her face divided down the center as human and fae both, and one that is just splotches of blue like someone dipped a sponge and threw it. They pick their way carefully between the canvasses and enter the room, brimming with more paintings and charcoal sketches. There’s one of an orca leaping out of the water; another depicts a demon that, all considered, appears a bit like Tenma Taro would it drawn by someone who got a third-hand description. It doesn’t have arms, simply wings where its arms would be that have talons at the joint, and the drawn tongue reaches halfway down its chest, while its head lacks its weird batlike ears. But it’s definitely Tenma Taro, enough to send a shudder through him. 

A year ago, examining the paintings to find that someone he never met had been following along to every case Apollo defended, and an accompanying feeling nothing short of horror in discovering it. This time, this is - she is - a friend keeping up with what’s going on even when they haven’t spoken in months. It’s nice to know. 

Footsteps hurry down the hall. “Hey, Vera!” Trucy says, and did she say it before or after Vera actually appears in the doorway to let them know that it’s her and not Larry? “We arrive! Good to see you!”

Vera looks better than Apollo remembers last, bright-eyed and not as pale as she used to be. Written in her face, the color in her cheeks and the curve of a smile, is that she is not a scared shut-in anymore. She explains that she lives here now, got her father’s house sold to escape the trauma associated with it - well, she doesn’t say the latter clause of that statement but they all know it well enough - and Larry bought this place and she’s subletting a room from him. “Though I asked him a month ago how much it would be and how to pay him and he said he’d get back to me and hasn’t.” Vera frowns at the wall. There’s a framed photo of her and her father hanging there. “I should probably remind him.”

“God, I wish my landlord would forget to collect,” Apollo mutters.

Trucy laughs. “I think that’s Polly telling you not to remind him,” she says. 

“I’m a lawyer,” Apollo says. “I would never say that.”

The three of them stop in front of a painting of a weird-looking but familiar dog and in silence, stare at it. Loud, exuberant knocking on the door heralds Athena’s arrival. “I’m not late, am I?” she asks. “I know the rule is that you’re not late unless you get here after Mr Wright, but that’s for work and not social events, right?” Apollo shrugs. Athena thrusts her hand out toward Vera. “Hi! I’m Athena Cykes, the new lawyer at the Wright Anything Agency! Nice to meet you!”

“Uh - h-hi.” Vera hesitates a moment and then shakes her hand. “I’m Vera Misham. Nice to meet you.”

“Trucy and Apollo said you were a client of theirs - oh! Did you paint all these?”

The panic in Vera’s eyes subsides. Wondering what all they’ve told Athena about her, why she was their client or whatever else. But Athena’s asking about her artwork now, and Vera is good about talking about her art, so she waves Athena back into the room they were just in and shows her the sketch of the orca. Trucy circles around the desk at the wall, and after a minute calls over, “Hey, Vera, who’s this?” She waves a large photograph of a woman, standing in the snow, her black hair tightly twisted on top of her head, her tired lined face wearing a knowing smile. Apollo would swear she’s familiar. When Apollo goes over to the desk, he sees a few pieces of scrap paper with hasty sketches trying to copy the woman’s face, pushed to the edge and onto the floor. 

“That’s Mr Larry’s mentor,” Vera says. “Ms Elise. She’s the one who began the Deauxnim name. I wanted to paint a portrait of her, as a gift for him, but I haven’t figured her face out yet. I—”

“Is that guests I hear?”

Vera snatches the photo from Trucy and shoves it and the loose papers in between the pages of a sketchbook. Larry leans up against the doorway. “Long time no see, Trucy!”

“Uncle Larry!” She charges him and nearly knocks him over. “Yeah, it’s been practically forever! Since like, since we saw Gourdy!”

“Who’s Gourdy?” Athena asks. 

“You’ll see,” Trucy says with a grin. Apollo sighs and resolves to find some sort of excuse to miss this event this upcoming December. Clay will be in space then, and Apollo is going to use that time to sleep in and not be heckled for it. 

“Apollo, hi,” Larry says, now that he’s gotten his wind back from taking a magician to the stomach. “And Athena, hey, nice to meet you, I’ve heard all about you.” He extends a hand for her to shake by resting his elbow on Trucy’s head. “That you’re the crazy kid who helped Nick out with his first case back.”

“Did you get to meet the orca?” Vera asks. “How do you defend an orca? I followed in the news as best I could, but I still don’t really understand.”

“Well! Let me tell you.” Athena, thrilled to have someone new to regale with her tales of penguins and orcas from the aquarium, immediately launches into it. Apollo still doesn’t know how much of her telling is exaggeration. When he and Trucy had questions about the investigations, Athena was always quick to be the one to answer, and Phoenix and Pearl left her to it. Was the penguin as finicky as she said, and so freely allowed to roam the aquarium when it would be very easy to consequently steal the penguin - probably. Apollo will believe anything, when it comes to their cases and clients. 

“I’m never gonna live this one down, am I?” Phoenix appears behind them, from the entryway, and Athena and Vera both jump. 

“What, you just barge in and don’t even knock?” Larry asks. “Rude! What kind of guest are you, Nick?” Phoenix grins, and that’s the weird thing that has struck Apollo the few other times he’s seen Phoenix and Larry together. That Phoenix almost reminds him of Clay, then, now, whenever it isn’t Larry reminding him of Clay. The way they gleefully give each other shit. The strength of that many years between them. 

“You defended an orca in court, Boss,” Athena says. “You are not going to live it down.”

“You co-counseled the defense of an orca!”

Larry takes them back to the sitting room - he and Phoenix bickering about whether or not his decor and entire vibe is pretentious - and pretentious is not the word coming to mind for Apollo. Now he feels the artist loft thing, mismatched furniture and clashing decor. A polished wooden table has a lace tablecloth and six all-slightly-different wicker chairs, while the couch makes him think of the Victorian era. A candelabra with lightbulbs sits on the end table. Landscapes and watercolor illustrations hang on the walls, and in between two of them hang a deformed analogue clock that looks like that famous melty-clocks painting. There are three pedestals around the room, like what a museum would keep vases on. Two of them do have vases, one empty and one filled with some wilted flowers, and the third has a small statue, about a foot tall, that again looks like another famous painting, the distorted face of the screaming man on the bridge. 

“When’d you get back into metalworking?” Phoenix asks, eyeing the statue and then the clock.

“Oh, nah, that’s just way old stuff I had boxed up and finally had some space for,” Larry says. “Clock’s ancient, you’d been talking to me about some course you were taking where Dalí kept coming up. Other one’s a vent piece - last metalwork I did after the Thinkers.”

“Don’t tell me it’s a clock too,” Phoenix says.

Larry, halfway into the next room - from what Apollo can see, it might be a kitchen - leans back out. “Dunno, why don’t you try it and find out?”

Phoenix watches him leave and then turns back to the statue. He casually hefts it in one hand, bouncing it a little to test the weight, and then he grabs the head and twists it to the side. A scream emerges from it. Not a very convincing one, with the canned sound of being recorded on a device with not great quality, and made by someone who is trying not to disturb the neighboring apartments - but the suddenness of the sound still makes Apollo jump, and Athena and Trucy both scream in tandem with it. 

With a heavy clonk, Phoenix sets it back in its place. He sighs, but with a smile visibly threatening to break through. “Real cute,” he says to Larry, who returns with a shiny, fancy metal tray of plastic containers of store-bought cookies. Why did Apollo think that the aesthetic clash would subside. “The Scream. Absolutely hilarious.”

“Hey man, it’s an accurate representation of my mental state at the time.” Larry sets the tray down on the table and gestures to them all to sit down. “I thought about giving it to you as a representation of how you probably felt too, and then I thought that might be—”

“Poor taste, yeah,” Phoenix interrupts.

“Yeah, so I had that in a box for a decade, and honestly probably gonna put it back because imagine like, an earthquake hits in the middle of the night and it falls over and just screams.”

“You could probably have it put in a gallery as a piece of performance art, or something,” Phoenix says. “Have it set just precariously enough, and cue screaming.”

“I don’t think I understand art,” Athena says, grabbing two cookies. “I mean, I get it, but also don’t at all.”

“That’s not about the art,” Phoenix says. “That’s just Larry.”

Larry slaps Phoenix’s hand as he reaches for a cookie. “You can’t be rude to me in my own house! My own house in which I have so graciously invited you!”

“I think Vera invited us, actually,” Trucy says. Larry rolls his eyes. 

“Yes, I wanted to tell you all,” Vera says, and the silent scuffle between Phoenix and Larry ceases immediately. Trucy sets the screaming statue back in its place with a guilty look, having been about to unleash it on the unexpected audience of everyone but Apollo who wasn’t looking in her direction. “I’m going to be published!”

“Woohoo!” Trucy throws her arms around Vera’s shoulders and hugs her from behind. “Look at you go!”

Vera’s cheeks start to turn pink, and then in the center there’s a growing bluish tint. “Nice work, kiddo,” Phoenix says. “When’s the book come out?” His eyes flicker toward Larry. Had they talked about this before, that Phoenix, specifically, knew there was a book? - Or maybe he just knows Larry’s career enough to expect, of course it’s a book. 

“Um.” Vera thinks for a moment. Trucy flings herself into the chair next to Vera that she had previously abandoned. “The beginning of November. Advance copies were just sent out and we got ours last week.”

“Can we see?” Apollo asks. “Or is that trade secrets?”

Vera drums her fingers on her cheek. “I suppose we could show you. If I know where we put it?”

“Somewhere beneath five sketchbooks, probably,” Larry says. “I’ll go take a look in a bit.”

“So you write children’s books, right?” Athena asks. “That’s what Mr Wright said. Write or illustrate? And-or?”

“Vera came up with this idea, I wrote it, and she did all the illustrations,” Larry explains. 

“I kept thinking about everything you said about names, that one time, Trucy,” Vera says quietly, and though all of them can hear her, and Athena especially looks interested as the only one of them who wasn’t here before, who is shut out of this particular shared history, but even she doesn’t say anything. “So,” Vera continues, a bit louder, “I’ll be a published illustrator under the name ‘Verity Deauxnim’.”

“That’s a good name!” Trucy says brightly. “Verity Deauxnim! A real solid sounding stage name! Or whatever it is for authors. Nom de plume? That always makes me picture just like, a really bushy mustache. Get mustache glasses for your author portraits!”

“You know—” Larry begins, and Phoenix groans and places his head on the table. “Hey! Nick! Why’s your daughter more supportive than you are? It’s not a bad idea!”

“It’s a silly idea,” Phoenix says. He lifts his head. “But I’m glad to hear you’ve got that figured out, Vera. It’s not gonna lead you wrong, picking up the Deauxnim name for yourself.”

“It’s already done so much work saving Uncle Larry from the worst surname known to the world,” Trucy says.

“Yeah, was a whole real tragedy that I wouldn’t be known as ‘Larry Butz, the guy who was on trial one time for murder and did nothing else good ever’. Except like, that time I was the Steel Samurai on stage, that was pretty cool, even if I’d thought I was signing up for tech crew.”

This is the man who accidentally became a witch, isn’t it? That tracks. “What’s the book about?” Apollo asks. 

Larry ends up answering first, Vera wide-eyed startled at being asked a question while she was trying to eat. “It’s an Ugly Duckling-type story, with the vaguest amount of actual animal research.”

“How vague is vague?” Phoenix asks.

“I’m a storyteller, Nick! I can’t be getting, like, neurotic about having all real true facts in there if it’s gonna get in the way of telling a good story, you know?”

“I feel like that’s how all of our witnesses treat their testimonies,” Apollo says. Athena shrieks with laughter and drops her cookie onto the table. Phoenix is silently and pointedly conveying something to Larry with just eyebrow movements and grimaces. Larry is pointedly ignoring it. 

“Fortunately,” he says, pointedly, so that his ignoring Phoenix has looped all the way back around to Phoenix obviously having his attention, “Deauxnim picture books are not witness testimonies! And if we want to fudge it when we’re talking about ducks, that is our right!”

“Then don’t leave us hanging,” Phoenix drawls. “I’ve learned more about orcas than I ever wanted to, so what’s this about ducks, besides the ugly one?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t want to know about orcas,” Athena says. “What’s not to love about orcas?”

“There’s a kind of duck that lays its eggs in the nests of other birds, like the cuckoo bird,” Vera says. “But the baby duck is nicer than the cuckoo babies because it doesn’t, um… throw the other eggs out of the nest once it hatches.”

“Ah,” Trucy says faintly.

“That would not make a great children’s story, I don’t think,” Apollo says. The secret extra-dark Ugly Duckling tale. Maybe even, if Apollo really thinks about it, that’d be the kind of shitty story that Datz would tell them. The interloper successfully makes it in to toss aside the ones who are supposed to be there; the usurper wins. That’s the kind of shitty story they lived.

“That’s why we didn’t do cuckoos,” Vera says. “That’s why it’s the duck that - that ends up put into a family where it wouldn’t naturally belong. The actual ducks in real life realize, because that’s part of, um, how they are, and they leave right away. But that’s not exactly what the story is. We stretch it a little. Like Mr Larry said.”

It should have hit him sooner, the reason that Vera had the idea for an Ugly Duckling story - the child of a different species dropped in a nest and left there to figure it all out for herself. It makes so much sense from that perspective. The swan that doesn’t know it’s a swan and thinks itself an odd duck is a just changeling.

“So then you got to draw a lot of fluffy cute ducks?” Athena asks. “I’d have gone with penguins, myself, but I see the appeal.”

“You said you got to meet a penguin at the aquarium, right?”

“Yes, but she hated me.” Athena still sounds like she’s about to start wailing when she talks about it.

When the familiar tune of a cartoon theme song starts up, Apollo figures it’s Trucy fiddling with something else. “Is that the Steel Samurai?” Vera asks. 

“Yeah.” Phoenix pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Ringtone. Friend of mine won’t let me change it. Ah, hello, what’s up?” He doesn’t look concerned when he answers, but he starts to frown, slowly, his eyebrows creasing together, and everyone else at the table glances at each other. Phoenix turns around in his chair so that his elbows rest on the back of it, a finger pressed against his free ear to shut them out even though no one is talking. “You don’t remember? That - no, yeah, I can - yeah. I can just meet you there.” His chair scrapes on the floor when he pushes himself out from the table. Athena winces. Phoenix doesn’t move for another moment after he pulls the phone away from his ear, a blank stare fixed on it. “Sorry,” he says, finally standing and pushing the chair back in to the table. “I’ve got to go. Friend’s having an - issue.”

“What’ve They done now?” Larry asks, with such particular emphasis that even though he doesn’t name them Fair Folk or fae, they all know. 

“Oh, for once it isn’t them,” Phoenix says, much lighter than Larry did, like they could be just any group of human friends. 

“Then tell Edgey I say hi.”

“I have human friends other than Edgeworth, you dick.”

“Name three.” Larry looks very smug. 

“Gumshoe, Franziska, and - Ema. Notice I’m not including you.”

“Is this what people mean when they say ‘male bonding’?” Athena asks. “Is that what this is?”

“Something like that,” Apollo says. He thinks of Clay, again, Clay needling him this morning that almost all of Apollo’s social life is now based around his job. (Apollo can’t leave the Agency. Apollo would have one friend left.)

“Yeah, I noticed when I had to find out from Edgey that you got your badge back and were off to court for an orca! You couldn’t even give me a call for that, huh?”

“I was busy with, you know, defending and being in court.” Phoenix claps a hand down on Vera’s shoulder. “Sorry I’ve gotta run out on you like this. But it’s good to see you again, glad you’re doing well. And I can’t wait for the book, too.”

“O-oh.” The poor girl sometimes looks so shocked whenever Phoenix talks to her so casually, so supportively. Like after she ruined his career she doesn’t understand how he can be so happy about hers. Even if he did set her up with it. “Thank you.”

“I guess I’ll go look around for our advance copy,” Larry says, watching Phoenix leave. “A sneak peak for everyone who’s staying here.” Phoenix flips him off over his shoulder, without turning around. “Not in front of the children!” Larry yells, standing himself. “And Nick, yo, next time I wanna hear about your stupid court stunts from you and not Edgey.” Larry turns, disappearing from the room the other way. “You kids hang out and talk about memes or whatever kids talk about.”

“Did you hear who Daddy was talking to?” Trucy asks Athena.

“I don’t listen in on phone calls unless it’s like, a case, usually,” Athena says, which is a statement with a lot of qualifiers there. Leaving her bases open while not technically lying, so no tells for Apollo or Trucy to call her on. 

“Ugh.” Trucy slumps and her head falls back against the chair. “What good are cool powers if you can’t help me pry into my dad’s private life with them?”

Vera coughs softly, a gentle nudge to the nosy gang to, ideally, stop being so damn nosy. Trucy stands up and goes to sound the screaming statue again, startling no one because she’s snickering the whole time too. “If this weren’t so heavy I’d use it in a magic show,” she says. “Watch as the beautiful, talented magician pulls the mysterious screaming statue out of her Magic Panties!”

“Really would prefer not to,” Apollo says.

“Coward,” Trucy says. 

“How is the magic show going, Trucy?” Vera asks. ���Have you made any progress on finding a venue to perform in?”

Trucy catches them all up on her latest exploits in her attempts to become a professional stage magician. She’s convinced, utterly, that while the era of magicians on tv saw its heyday decades ago, she’s going to be the one to bring it back, and without “cheating” by using her real magic. “Like if I wanted to use real magic, I’d set up a shop on the streetcorner peddling suspicious plants as having come straight from the realm of the Fair Folk themselves, and then when angry repeat customers come back, I use Mr Hat to distract them and make off with their wallets!”

“Trucy, that’s how you get arrested on theft and drug dealing charges,” Apollo says. “I don’t want to have to deal with that.”

“Oh, yeah,” Trucy says. “I guess selling random plants would be suspicious. Someone at my school tried to sell kale pretending it was weed, once.”

“Sometimes I get sad that I missed out on all those stupid weird high school experiences that people get to have,” Athena says. “I mean, sure, I get weird court stories, and I don’t regret the path I’ve taken at all! But sometimes I just feel - I don’t know, something, about missing out on those regular growing-up experiences.”

Apollo opens his mouth to say that there’s really nothing Athena missed, because grade school and secondary school sucked, and everyone’s “funny high school stories” are just them repressing the rest of it that sucked, but Vera speaks first and says, “I do too, actually.”

“Oh?” Athena asks. She probably figured there was something more going on in Vera’s story when they mentioned that she’s a former client of Apollo’s, but being a nineteen-year-old professional is Athena’s normal. Though there’s higher odds of it in artistic fields than law, probably.

“I was homeschooled,” Vera says. “By my father. I… I didn’t really go out much.”

Athena nods sympathetically. She sits with her chin resting in her palm for a while, as Trucy spins a few more stories of what’s happened at school lately - repeatedly assuring Apollo that she and Jinxie stay far to the sidelines of it - looking at Vera. After a few minutes of this, Vera seems to notice, casting a quizzical glance at Athena. “Something about you reminds me of a friend I had when I was little, before I moved away,” Athena explains. “I can’t put my finger on it.”

“It wouldn’t have been me,” Vera says. “I didn’t have any friends when I was little.”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant,” Athena says. “I had only the one friend back then - I was a real shut-in, actually, myself. Her name’s Juniper. She was a real quiet, sensitive type, didn’t have any other friends like me, didn’t go out much at all. Not really an artist, other than a couple years ago she said that she’d taken up knitting, but there’s just - a certain je ne sais quoi.”

“Oh,” Vera says. She starts picking at her nails, which now appear to be whiter and pointier than they were before. Another slip, from wondering, perhaps, if the similarity Athena sees is just in personality, or something she doesn’t realize she’s picked up on. Do the inner voices of human and fae sound different? Is that something Athena can notice - something she even knows she notices?

“Found it!” Larry reenters the room, waving the book around a little too much for Apollo to get a good look at the cover yet. “It was on the unused sketchbook shelf.”

Vera nods in understanding. Athena doesn’t follow so easily. “You have a shelf full of unused sketchbooks? How many do you need at one time?”

“Different kinds of paper work better with different materials,” Vera explains. “So when there’s a sale, we stock up.”

“Part of being a writer is having a lot of cool notebooks that you never actually plan on using,” Larry says, which is coming close to almost offering an explanation, but a much worse one than Vera’s. He sits back down at the table with them. “So doing traditional art is also a lot like that, except I do eventually use the sketchbooks. Mostly.”

“Oh, so it’s like how Mr Wright never uses all the law books we have in the office, right?” Athena asks. 

Trucy takes the book from Larry and drags her chair around the table to squish herself in between Apollo and Athena, so they can all read from the same angle. Vera is chewing on her nails now, watching them with apprehension for any reaction, though they’ve barely even considered the cover yet. “That’s exactly what it’s like, I think,” Trucy says.

-

The lights in the office are off, though the door to the back room is open, and Phoenix always closes that one before he leaves. Though, he figures, if she’s gotten here before him, it’s not like she would actually have need to turn the lights on. That’s the thing about being blind - the dark isn’t any different than the way it usually is. 

He finds Thalassa sitting next to his desk, leaning up against the side with her knees pulled up to her chest and her head rested against them. Phoenix scuffs his feet noisily across the carpet and her head turns, just slightly, while keeping her face buried. She knows he’s there and doesn’t want to acknowledge him. He lowers himself to the floor across from her and rests his back against Apollo’s desk, and he waits in the dim light that Mia has only partially switched on. 

“I almost forgot.” Thalassa raises her head, and because Phoenix doesn’t have his magatama on his person - he left it in his desk, next to her soul - she looks perfect, statuesque and glamorous, not a wrinkle or hair out of place. Perfect enough that she’s wholly unnatural, armored as she is in glamour to become something cold and stony. “I almost forgot everything.” Her hands, clutched tightly in her lap, unfold from around her mitamah, deep blue like a twilight sky. “I left myself a memo that should I find myself slipping, I was to call you for help - but I thought it was just that, slipping somewhat, and the most I would forget was your office address or phone number, not why it even was that you were the one who could help me at all.”

“And it wasn’t,” Phoenix says. 

She nods. “It was everything. About you, about my children, about everything from when I came to this office after the trial. And then everything before I was shot. I was left again with that darkness, and Borginia, and the two trials here.” The duration between losing her life, and finding her soul. 

“Do you think, because of the length of time you’ve not been around it?” Phoenix asks. “Or perhaps distance - but you’ve stayed in LA this whole time, right?”

She regards him for several second; blind though he knows she is, her Sight remains, and with that she can pinpoint his own Sighted eyes. Just hovering ominously above a necklace-shaped noose. A bit weird, no doubt, and Phoenix doesn’t have to doubt because Godot told him it was weird in a stronger term than weird. (Speaking of weird, there’s something thematically to contemplate that magic gone wrong, the fae crossed, so often deprives humans of their eyes, even when they are left with Sight. Ema would tell him that two isn’t a large enough sample size to draw any actual conclusions, scientifically, but for his purposes, Phoenix is going to ahead anyway.)

“Not quite,” she admits. “I did return to Borginia for a short time. I wondered, as I did, if I could uncover some connection or reason as to why it was there I was sent following my death.” Her tone is so casual, so calm, that it’s uncomfortable. This huge blank in her past, why she was there at all, and she speaks of it like it’s no concern to her. “And more than that, there were some last affairs of Lamiroir’s to put in order - Lamiroir, the duo, Machi and I, I mean. He can never return to Borginia, and so there is nothing more there for me.”

“Shit, yeah, the smuggling charges, that’s…” Machi, fifteen years old, functionally exiled from his homeland, sitting in jail knowing he won’t even have a foundation to build off of when he gets out, because Borginia’s draconian cocoon-smuggling laws are a sword over his head for the rest of his days. “I hope they didn’t give you any trouble over it.”

“Thankfully, they seemed satisfied that I truly had no part in what Machi and Daryan did,” she answers. “Or - considering that the country has been in an uproar since last year, with a very long debate about what we owe the rest of the world when something so dangerous could also save lives - perhaps the customs officers were very tired of talking about cocoons.” She smiles faintly. “Perhaps Borginia will have its own legal reforms, as you are striving for here.”

Nothing like a high-profile celebrity case to catch the public’s eye, if the lawyer on defense doesn’t fuck it all up.

“So it could have been the distance that you traveled that caused this problem,” Phoenix says. “Or the combination of time and distance, or just time.” And with magic, nothing ever easy. “But either of those could be dealt with,” he adds. “You could drop by the office more to - to refresh your memory. Could say hi to the kids, too.”

He means - or, if she had asked, he would have said he meant - she could say hello as Lamiroir. The kids helped her out by defending Machi, and they still, quite regularly, listen to her music. (The only place where their musical tastes converge, really.) But she decides what he means without asking, and with a curl of her lip, hiking her shoulders up, she says, “I will not reenter my children’s lives while there is a chance that I will only cause them further grief.”

She reaches up and runs her hand up along the desk, finding its edge to hold on to and pull herself up to her feet. For a moment Phoenix fears that she will leave the conversation on that note and walk out, but she seats herself delicately on his desk, her hands primly folded in her lap and one leg crossed over the other at the knee. As classically poised as she ever is, and Phoenix is glad she’s decided to stick around. Maybe Mia would stop her, but Phoenix knows he wouldn’t have gotten on his feet in time. Why did his bones stop being able to take any kind of pressure as soon as he hit thirty? Why do humans live at all; merely to suffer back pain?

But he doesn’t really like carrying on this conversation with Thalassa looking down on him, either, and with a groan he drags himself upright and sinks into Athena’s chair. “Perhaps placing my soul back in the hollow it was carved out of will simply drop me down into the grave I so narrowly escaped all those years ago,” she continues bitterly. “Or perhaps one day my memory will have regressed to the point that I will only be Lamiroir the amnesiac even while I sit with my soul held in my hands.”

“But we don’t really even know that will happen,” Phoenix says. “I very much doubt that will happen.”

“Do you,” she says curtly. “Pray tell, how? Even I do not know - could there have been some other spell cast by Magnifi to keep me alive, or was my soul’s separation all that was necessary? Can you tell me that? Can your friends know unless they have bought the souls of some unlucky damned humans and then watched them die, as an experiment?”

Pearl is the one researching how to set this right. Neither she, Maya, nor Iris knew when he first asked, but Phoenix isn’t the type to give up on someone, and Pearl has a vested interest in becoming as powerful as she possibly can to support Maya, so she won’t be giving up, either. As far as Phoenix knows, anyway, there have been no souls experimentally bartered about. And Pearl had agreed that if anyone was likely to know the nuances of these particular magics and how to help her, it would be them, that faraway hidden place that the Winter fae branched from thousands of years ago. She and Maya just - couldn’t divine where in the world that is, that one final Court they know nothing about, know no one who has ever been.

No one besides Thalassa.

“Fine,” he says. “Yes, we’re still trying to figure it out - yes, we don’t know that it won’t, but we don’t know that it will, either. And say, for argument’s sake” - because that’s what lawyers do, argue, and a smile twitches onto her lips - “that you were actually to die or have your memory wither away. That you think that may happen. Shouldn’t you meet your children now, tell them the truth, while you can? They deserve to know, at the very least, that they’re siblings.”

Her smile vanishes; her brows furrow. “Then if I am dead or in essence lost, you of course may tell them.”

Of course, she says, after she has not made that obvious. It would not have truly shocked him if she’s instead said that she would bury her childrens’ relationship with her. “And when they ask how I found out and how long I’ve known? Why I hid it for that long? Do you think they won’t hate me if they know that I knew you, and kept the chance for them to ever meet their mother from them? It’s not like I can lie to them about anything!” There’s nothing satisfying about making a point that shuts her up. Both sides of this argument are the the losing ones. “Do you think that either of them would simply not care about what happens to their mother?” 

Trucy is hurting, daily, ever since she learned the truth of her grandfather’s magic; she doesn’t hide it with a smile at home. She wants to be a stage magician because that’s the kind of magic that will only make people happy, will never hurt anyone. And Apollo’s never talked to Phoenix about it, but Trucy informs him that there were several foster homes in the picture, none ever stayed in the picture, and that Apollo always changes the subject (“Conspicuously,” she says, over dinner, no idea that she’s talking about her half-brother, “changes the subject. Polly’s really bad at lying.”) if she asks him about family.

“I do not know,” she says. “You are the one who knows them—”

“And I know they would care! That they’d want to know you!”

Thalassa goes quiet. She presses her fist against her mouth and closes her eyes, inhaling loudly and exhaling even louder. “This is precisely the trouble, that you are the one who knows them.” She lowers her hand, curls it tight around her other hand and her mitamah. “You, you reckless, stubborn, fool of a man! What may I expect from you next as you think you may - go about trying to set this right? To save me - do I wait for you to bargain away your own soul to your fae friends, so that they may better understand, because their help you ask of them has a price? Or do I let you search for the Summer Court and their reserves of knowledge - so that you may die there, as Jove did, seeking something from them that they will never offer you?”

“What was Jove looking for?” Phoenix asks. It’s a new piece of an older story, that at the end of last year (one of the few times they communicated between October and now) he’d asked for clarification on two points. First, if she knew where the Summer Court was, and when she shut him down she preempted his second and third questions, too: no, she would absolutely not tell him where the Summer Court is, and yes, Jove had died there. She hadn’t then said that he was looking for something. 

A sharp, searing pain bursts through his chest, launching his heart up into his throat where it pounds with the staccato rap of anxiety. It echoes in his head the same way, thumping at the forefront of his skull, not quite painful but nonetheless a weight all the way down behind his eyes, settling in with conflicted feelings; exhaustion wants them to close and burning wants them to leak. He wants to run, he wants to hide, there’s no fight in his instincts, only flight and freeze, and a powerful cold seeps down his skin, from across his shoulders down his arms. Shuddering, he crosses his arms together tightly, as though the gesture will form a physical barrier that will spare him from the ice in Thalassa’s eyes.

It’s her, he realizes, belatedly. It’s just glamour, just manipulated perception. Just, hell of a word to use when she’s decided that rather than project her stony detachment, beauty that refuses to show an emotion behind it, she’ll put the fear of god in him instead. Fear of her. “You’d rather I not ask that question,” he says. 

“Forgive me, I did not mean to be so emotional,” she says, and that would, genuinely, be comical. Her face had not changed at all, not a quiver at the corner of her mouth or between her brow. The only sign of her emotionality is what she made Phoenix feel. She squeezes her eyes shut, pressing her hands together in front of her mouth, taking a few silent seconds to recenter herself. The pressure in Phoenix’s chest loosens. She’d probably understand if he went to grab the magatama, stop her from doing this to him again. “But understand this, in everything of yourself that you risk for my sake, every time you dig for something new and dangerous - my children know you.” Implying that he’d have something else to want to research in the Summer Court, were she to say more. She’s not that good at deterring curiosity. “It would be much more painful to them if they were to lose you, than if I were to wither away.” 

Implied: the cynical weighing of lives to determine which one of them it’s better to save. Implied: we can’t both come through this in one piece. It’s the calculations that Rimes and Prosecutor Blackquill made and tried to toss on Phoenix: Sasha or the orca, you can’t save them both. 

And how, again, did that trial work out?

“Fortunately,” Phoenix says, “it’s far from guaranteed that those are our only two options. In fact, I’d say that it’s very unlikely.”

“You could have been a Gramarye,” Thalassa says. “Because there is one thing besides magic that the men of this name are skilled at, and that is pulling unearned confidence out of their asses.”

“Ah,” Phoenix says, with the vague sensation of being smacked in the face. “We could call it optimism. That might be nice.”

“Of course,” she says, not sarcastic but instead sounding pitying, and that might be worse. “I admire the faith that you hold, truly, I do.” Which is why she just called it overconfidence, no doubt. “But this way you stick your neck out for others means that it is your neck on the line.” She touches her fingertips to the base of her neck, her blue, blue eyes fixed on one of the few aspects of him that she can see. Funny, that; she doesn’t know what color his eyes are beneath the Sight or the way his hair refuses any and all attempts to flatten it or the shape of his face, but she knows the worst moments of his life, his greatest enemies, secrets that he never intends to share. On the other side, to balance their scales, he knew her before she remembered her. 

“I fear where it ends,” she says finally. “Because you and I are not lucky people, darling.”

Both so unlucky that it almost doubles around - that it’s frankly a miracle they’re alive. “Yeah,” he says. “But you don’t know me at all if you think I’m just going to give up on someone.”

[zebraslovescupcakestoo]

Join me for Coffee sometimes.

I am sitting at a Mexican restaurant called 'Mexicali's' today for a change and in favor of my friend who decided to take a rare chance to do something different. It's not everyday we decided to do something different, mostly my 'older' friend, due to the fact that we loved the peaceful moments of not dealing with the criminals and the mafias at the moment.

I am a bit embarrassed on the establishment with the clean, colorful settings and I'm just in my normal wear. It's not 'first class fancy,' but it's a really nice restaurant to go out. The owners were a Latino family that immigrated years back, worked REALLY hard to get the place and they proudly officially opened for business!

Of course, there was an issue with the process of buying the property. It's not the seller, the building or even the price. But it was the other 'buyer' who wanted to have the location to opened up another Italian restaurant.

I have NOTHING against Italian food, I do like them and knew quite a few so Kitty can take a break once or twice a night. I'm not sexist. It's just there's already five in Chicago already and I wanted to have something different other than pastas and pizzas! Back to this story, their competitors were not happy with them moving in with their food cultures and other stuff that I found really unfair and SO UNCALLED for! Just to say the least...

It wasn't long that the police, which my team was still part of, got a tip and some accusations of them depicted as 'criminals' and then some just so that it would be harder for them and easier for their 'rivals' to acquire it smoothly. I think it was a bit of a misunderstandings while most think it's 'legitimate' and I wasn't the only one. Sam thinks it's too and he also recognized the other 'buyer's' name!

He's only known in public image as an owner of all the Italian Restaurants but like Bendy behind that mask, he's also a Mafia boss that's in alliance with the Alfonso's! He told me that they're on neutral terms, but they're on thin ice with their relations lately...

So long story short, I did my investigations, uncovered what's real, what's not, uncovered the other mafia's secrets and then once we've hit the court room stage, it's final verdict was now in the press.

Italian Mob boss Arrested! Mexican family not guilty!

I had to admit that we almost lost at the end until that last detail that the 'witness' had slipped had caught mine and then Sam's attention.

It was tiring that almost all of our defense cases were close calls, but until Sheba is back with her full confidence, Sam is playing both hand decks and it's gotta be really hard in my point of view. Even if both of them are pretty good, it's almost hard to look at every evidence, rules, laws, and so on. It feels like I'm just doing the 'easy' portion of the trials...

Unless you're not in good shape and fighting against an Olympic Lunatic that runs the Underworld of Chicago.

I then noticed a child's voice at another table with what I assumed a mother with her son. They were having their little quality time together with her holding the menu card and her assumed son drawing something that looks like a dinosaur. She smiled and she patted his head as to say 'good job.'

I smiled sadly at that. It reminded me of my sister if she was still alive today. She would be a great mother like she was to me when I was growing up at that age. I never knew my mother and my father was barely at home but he raised us properly. It's frustrating that she would never had the chance to play with the twins, praised their abilities and watch them grow up...

But now I had to take over for her and for my father too. I knew that my uncles and the relatives insisted that they can do it, I still declined and wanted them to be raised here because of the whole new continents and the cultures they're not used to where they're at.

Despite the hardships, I finally did do a decent job so far, with some bumps but I think we're good for now. They even trusted me more than ever...

Speaking of trust... I then remembered my friend who had yet to show up. I then got a word from the waitress that they had a phone call from him saying that he will be a few minutes late. I nodded and said I can still wait.

I then look out the window to daydream a bit to kill time... I noticed a bust from a shop across the street that reminded that first case that I worked as an official detective, two years ago...

---Time travelling on a rainbow, Nyan Cat!----

It was supposed to be here, right? I thought as I examined the attached, block buildings from the sidewalk. They all said that this was an 'average' neighborhood, but this is like for the 'well-do' class like a doctor or a lawyer. I needed to find my lawyer for three reasons.

One: He helped me narrow down the six busts of Anubis in a 'vandalized' bizarre case and uncovered the missing Pharaoh’s Pearl that got stolen from a museum.

Two: I was saved from Bendy and Boris when I found out that this was one of their quick money schemes by a tall, dark mysterious black suited and mask man, They were taken down by his throw downs and my quick thinking with Bendy when he almost got him.

Three: he dropped his wallet without noticing when he disappeared... and I found out just who he was.

Which leads me to the next three things: I want answers!

I then head someone disputing a few houses down the streets and I saw the man I was looking for, smirking and walking with his Border Collie dog. I think that beautiful canine might be potentially deadly when she saw me and then ran at me with it's sharp teeth.

Border Collies are known for being territorial and very loyal to it's owner asides it's history of being an ideal 'sheep dog.'

I stood very still with my hand sticking out to halt him or her, I don't know it's gender yet, just to show I'm not here to pick a fight or murdering anyone.

But then to my surprise, he/she then started to slow down and got less aggressive as he/she sniffed my hand. Then like any other 'vicious' guard dogs that I've encountered, he/she licked it and was friendly again. It was an odd thing that I'm a 'cat' person yet for some odd reason, dogs liked me.

“That's a first, she never done THAT before. Most people would be running from aggressive, territorial dogs and Tiara wouldn't be this friendly to first time strangers at our home.” My expected 'suspect' said with a confused look once he caught up.

So the dog's a girl and she's very pretty. Kinda what you expect when someone's probably have a much bigger income than I currently have. “Hi, I'm the guy that was from that coffee shop a few-”

“Yeah, you're that new kid detective that came for the sales record papers. Did you need anything else?” He asked as he and his dog walked up to their home. I needed to have my answers from that night, but I needed to be careful because the way he took out both of them, it's insane! Boris has super muscles, Bendy has demon speed but this guy, despite his tall and lean look, is not to be underestimated! I think it's one of those Eastern boxing techniques and something with wind elements...

But none the less, I still want to know. I took out his wallet. “I found this and I believed that's yours. Everything is still in there.” He swiped is so quickly and that's when I knew I found my smoking gun.

“Thanks for returning it and not going on a shopping spree. Tell your parents they did a good job raising ya!” He was about to close his door shut until I instinctively had to say something, grab it quick and force it opened. Only ended up him whacked his forehead on the top door's frame, said something like 'tavern nackle' and then falls flat on the pavement. His dog barked and sniffed at this head.

Great! I made a new fried who's gonna sue me for aggravated assault after my first case!

Upon his looks at me like I just pissed him off, the only expression I made as horrified and I blabbed out. “I'm so sorry! I didn't-” He then halted me in gesture and got up. “Save it! My door frames alone already told me I'm too tall and this is not the first time sh!t like this happens.” He wrinkled his nose and gently rubs it.

“Listen, I need to talk you... inside. It's about that case and... other stuff I've uncovered. I know how and where that wallet came from.” I tried to convince him and I wanted to settle this peacefully. He stared me down like he was suspicious of me and then he sighed. “You don't seems like you're gonna blab it out to everyone...” I immediately shook my head in his agreement. I may be doing my job in the name of justice, but I wanted to do it the right way.

“I wouldn't without solid proof and well... you did helped. Twice. Was it because you wanted to help others? Or was is a promise you made for some one like me? Or any reason why you became an attorney?” I was asking so many questions until I noticed some sadness in his glaring stare... Have I said something I shouldn't have?

He then sighed and all that tension from glaring disappeared.“Kid, come in. It's a long story.” He tilted his head to gesture 'get in there.' Normally, I would get bad vibes from suspicious characters, but this guy despite a potential suspect, didn't seem like he was a bad guy... at first.

We got inside and I was... quite surprised. It was so simple yet the furniture reminded me of the 20's styled in great condition. I noticed some book shelves with many well, books, and then some old family photos, some medals, more photos in air gears, some items displayed like monuments and what stood out to me the most was that one, huge piece that was leaning aside from the large book shelves. It was a beat up piece of a propeller.

“May I ask what's with this um... fascinating piece you got leaning?” I politely asked as I sat down on the big couch. He was searching in the drawers for something. “Yeah, that was part of that one plane that I used to fly in the European war about a decade back.”

European war about a decade back? Isn't that...? “You fought in the WWII war?” My eyes gleamed to a hero of that infamous war! Sure the Americans joined in two years later in that and I do respect them too, but this is... amazing that I met someone had fought, survived and live to tell the tale.

“T'che! Who do you think I was doing almost ten years ago? The 'Coco’ Chanel and mess around the Nazi spies?” He said it like he doesn't care about it and cuts my 'hopeful' feelings in half. I wasn't asking disrespectfully on purpose... He was kinda rude.

“I joined in the air force as a 'delivery boy' for carrying supplies and other sh!t I had to do. After a few years when times got rough, I was 'promoted' to join the fights in the air. I wasn't perfect but at least I get the job done.” I was thinking about while I was at that age at the time. I was doing my homework while he was up in the air fighting off the most evil people in the 20th century. I am so far behind his level...

“I did had my fair share of working with people who we all had a common goal. The British, the French resistance, the 'neutral' Swiss. Not the cheese one. We ALL wanted to end the Nazi regime and stop their 'Aryan race' ideology or else 3/4 of the world would not survive up to this day.” He lay down his old book full of photographs and I was looking through all of his photo shots with his groups and others who had joined the cause. Most of them was taken with one or two 'similar' person... I didn't had to ask why he was with so many different people he worked with cause I knew that there was so many lives were lost in that war. Even if some DID lived to tell the tale, I think he would bother to tell me upon first impressions...

“At that time, I only wanted one thing the most from my partners. Loyalty. They can cuss, b!tched out anything, vomit only the outside of the plane because of air sickness, but if they back-stabbed me in the name of the swastika or anything, I ain't afraid to cut them out cold.” Schhk!

I heard like something like a sword unsheathed and I saw something sharp from his right sleeves. It was a knife! “This is me being 'nice' since you seem like the type that doesn't run it's mouth at every little thing. I'm just be as 'polite' as I can but if you double-cross me, I'll send you to the morgue faster than a paycheck spend in a day.”

Now he's threatening me if I tried to turn him in! But I then 'see' something he's holding back. Not the 'other' weapon in another arm, but something about the past in silhouettes behind him... like a woman with another man... and then I saw a small window vision like someone's vision was fading and saw a person with a parachute opened...

I knew that I had yet to ask this, but by hearing this, getting to know his 'present' character, saw a few family photos and 'saw' something hidden...

“Sam... did something happened that made you lose your trust in people?” He gasped with wide eyes opened. I'm now scared of my own safety and what's gonna happened to my family... But I needed to know why.

“I-Im not gonna say what is right or wrong. I can't judge what you might have done or reacted to what happened that made you suspicious towards people. But I want to understand how and why you're acting distance to so many people. I've only saw you twice after that very first meeting and you look like you could have murdered someone if you wanted.”

He then rested his face beck to it's neutral self. “If you're gonna say that 'what if I say I'm like that?' I would ask why did you help me not once, but twice to save my life? I know you're not as bad as those other attorneys says about you when I asked where were you all this time.” I sat very still to wait for his reaction. Is he gonna throw me out in the streets? Yell at me for spouting non-sense? Or is he gonna do anything at all?

He sighed and then started to explain. “Kid, I'll tell you a little something that I learned the hard way when I was around your age. Sit down for a while. It's a bit of a long story so make yourself comfortable.” He sat down comfortably as I was too. “Back in my high school years, I used to date this girl that I liked and I really thought that we really love each other. A real, mushy, teenage love story I used to have. Her name was Nell but we all called her Nelly. I had that dream one day after college once and made enough as a prosecutor, I would ask that 'big question' for her hand in marriage. I also have a twin brother, Simon, who's a Mountie. That's what you might called the Canadian police in that country. He's that eternal Optimistic, yuppy-peace talk, tree hugging, good  manner, good nature conscious @$$hole since we were born. Think of it as polar opposites of our characteristics that 'compliments' each other, OK?”

My eyes 'senses' indicated that on his left hand that he doesn't have the ring...

“Did she refused or something happened to her?”

He shook his head. “Nah... I found out that her feelings and mine weren't the same... Like a knife through the chest, I caught her and my twin brother together alone behind the barn that we used to own. It was after my last part time shift I've done for my college preparations. I even heard their whole conversations and I found out the truth that I was 'really' not happy with. She and my brother were in love. She did admitted that she does like me but... more like a friend and that those times we went to date was so that she doesn't upset me... Wanna guess how my 'feelings' went out the window faster than throwing out cold coffee back then?” He then got up a bit and reached over the shelves to grab a photo frame. “That's when I interrupted their little rendez-vous and I immediately said a lot of sh!t about what I've heard and my thought. I even finished throwing a punch at my twin's face, not caring that I probably broke his nose and then I left for colleague in Montréal. Since then, I dedicated my whole time for my licenced bar and I ignored any letters from home. I was still angry at them and I even discarded their wedding invitation. You can guess how my parents were furious when I said I couldn't come when I came up an excuse... I avoided their supposed 'reunion', both them and the newly weds, when I decided to take a hold in my education and joined the air force for WW2 as a 'delivery boy.'” He places the photo frame face down next to the night table where he is.

“Were you really... so upset about finding out the truth of her that you avoided any contacts with her and even your own family?” I had moments that I wanted to avoid at all cost, but I knew better now that I can't run from my problems cause it's never gonna solve anything but delaying.

“It's not that I was afraid, I just didn't want to deal with them after that.” That still means you're afraid of facing them when you acted out that night. “Anyways, I was then drafted to the air strips, learned how to fly those flying death machines and minded my own business in the war. I delivered the supplies and goods for the army and occasionally for old England when their times were tough about short supplies coming in and out. I have plenty of war stories that would go on and on, but I'll save it for another rainy day.”

I admit that I wanted to hear them, but I decided to respect that so we can continue his story. “As much as there was so many sh!t storms we've got ourselves into, I admit that I did found a new family, if you'd call it that. Random strangers you'd probably never met once before-” He got up and took another photo frame from the shelves, this time it was a group of people in their flight jackets. I can tell that one of them was the younger version of him that's about my age and he looked like he was having a great time with that bright smile. “-but it was close enough.”

He then proceeded to tell me each of them and then once he finished, he said. “We could all been having a good life by now...”

He then violently slammed the photo frame on the coffee table in between us and I heard something cracked. ���IF IT WASN'T FOR THAT OSTIE-CRISS-DE-PIECE-D'HUMAIN-MARDE PAUL HAVEN'T PULLED A SUICIDE MISSION AND IF I WAS SMART FOR FIVE BUCKS...” He took a deep breath to calm him down when he noticed that I curled myself into a ball on my seat with eyes wide opened. He cleared his throat and continued. “Well... me and the others were completely clueless when we found out. It was a few months near the end game, 'V-Day' as they called it. We were supposed to transport some goods to the allied soldiers from Egypt to Italy. There was some sort of malfunction problems with most of the planes except for that big one... We didn't have much choice but all four of us embarked it cause some supplies were a bit heavy or many. At that time I, well, 'we' all thought that it would be fine since it was all five of us in one flying tank. It was about in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea when it started. Paul said he might have notice something in the cargo, so he and Cameron, who he volunteered to come along, tagged along while Jesse and myself were just relaxing. I wished that I would have taken his place instead, but I wasn't aware. We both heard a gun shot and Cameron's last cry. I got up and ran at the back with Jesse not far behind. When I opened the door, I was immediately hit from the bullet in the chest. Then I was knocked out... for a few minutes until my blurry vision came and I felt like we were falling vertically. Last I saw before I blacked out again, was Paul opening the emergency door with his parachute.”

My heart sank a whole lot when I heard that. Not only he was betrayed once, but twice! How can anyone abuse such a strong person like him despite some flaws? And why did that Paul guy back stabbed them and almost killed all his crew mates? Did he still believed that the 'Evil' teams were still winning if he does this?

“I barely remembered what exactly happened after that, but they told me from some account that I was found among the remains of our plane by some shipmates from Egypt. I woke up in that country's hospital when they told me that and I was pretty much feel empty on the inside again. It was my second time that I was betrayed by someone that I trusted and I almost completely swore myself never to trust or have another friend as long as I lived. Well... until someone had to change my mind.” I tilted my head to know who.

“During those days that I was bed bound in that make shift hospital, the last person that I wanted to see or even hear from was my twin, Simon. He somewhat learned about me being here and all that jazz, so he came here on his own while Nelly, his wife and my 'ex', was waiting back home... with their kids that I soon learned that I'm an uncle but I had no idea because I cut my ties with them since then. I was too angry from that night.”

He's an uncle like me! My eyes sparkled with joy. “I was even in big surprise that they had triplets.” I almost choked. Triplets?! I had enough trouble with twins but triplets? Oy yoy yoy! “You've got more on your plate than I do!” I said to that.

“Well, they're THEIR kids so I'm just a 'support' guardian so it's not THAT big of a deal for me. Back on topic, I was still not talking to him when he came and started to cry and apologized. I would have throw him out with a throwing technique, but in my condition back then, all I could do at the moment was lie on my back. I was annoyed that he still keep talking and was still insisted that he's gonna change my mind.”

I tiled my head. “And... what happened next?”

“Well, at first I wasn't gonna listen, but when you're bed bound from injuries, boredom would be almost intolerable and well... he DID kinda risk himself and spared his time to see me despite what happened so... I just listened. Turns out that when he and Nelly met the first time, it wasn't love at the start, but then when we started to date more, I wasn't aware that Nelly didn't like me as much as she wanted and that I wasn't exactly right for her. Unlike my twin, I was more serious, smart@$$-ery, indoor guy yet clever, a bit 'too honest' for my own good and I was more 'pessimistic' realistic sometimes. She's not saying that I was a 'bad guy' but I'm just well... wasn't just right for her. Let's just say.”

“So... she wanted to be with your brother instead cause he's more positive and much more... er... NOT that I'm saying you're bad either just well-”

“You don't need to beat around the bush. I preferred to be honest and tell the truth, even if it's hard and it might piss off people sometimes. That may not get many friends, but it will get the right ones. I will admit that I may come across rude sometimes, but I don't like to hide from the truth. Think of it as makeups: You can cover it up for the moment, but sooner or later, your true face will be revealed.”

“I remembered you saying something like that from that coffee shop. I do like honesty in people, but maybe if you try to explain to them in a nicer way, at least they'll respect you AND know you're much nicer than you look.” I know that he's an adult and that he's capable of making his own decisions, but sometimes it's alright to take some advice once in a while.

“I'll keep that in mind. After that was explained, he then told me what I had missed for almost eight years. You know the usual: weddings, babies, stupid parent hood stories with their kids, and how they're all looked like me for somewhat reasons. I didn't done it.”

I gasped. “My nephews look almost like me too!” He raised an eye brow with astonishment. “Seriously? What are the odds?”

“I'd love to tell more, but I still wanted to hear the rest of your story. What happened after you two talked?” I didn't meant to derailed his story, but it was really nice that I found someone who understands being an uncle/parent.

He then resumed. “Like I've said, it was hard, but after a while, I then started to think of all that happened from that time and then I realized of how I was wrong of thinking about the whole thing. I was furious when I found out about them, I was neglectful of all the letters they've send me for returning and for forgiveness apart for some family news, and how my only brother that still cared for me despite of all those years that I wasn't. Like I've said about him, he's a dummy goodie two-shoes, but he's got his heart in the right place. Then it's was time that I started to admit that I was wrong and that I was the one to apologize instead. I also told him that I would have turned back to that night so that we could have ended it more peacefully instead of tears.”

Then the Collie, Tiara, stared to whine with her dog bowl in her mouth once we turned to the direction of the sound. “Ah, tabarnak. Désolé, Tiara. J'ai completement oublié. I'll get your water.” His bilingual accent is really captivating and interesting. He got up from his seat and I did too to follow them in the kitchen. “Ah yes, did I forgot to mentioned that Tiara also came from Egypt, despite being a Border Collie and she was rescued from cross fires with the locals and the remaining Nazis that were hiding there?”

Another amazement! “No. Way-!?” I then 'sensed' something hidden in the kitchen. Oh no, not now! I just got on good terms with him and now it wants me to 'show' me something?

I did my best to ignore it and hoped that I would have a break from 'it.' But unfortunately, I haven't learned my lessons about my 'abilities.' No matter how many times I tried, it will be persistent and will be 'forceful.' My body then moved to move against my will and I was then staring at that one picture with two birds. One with a toucan and a flamingo. My 'sights' then showed me that there were some papers and items that seems like evidences in some sort of a safe box.

Is my sight telling me that he's hiding something important? Like, was he hiding crucial evidence for something? Blackmailing? Anything?

He then said to me. “What were you looking at?” I got surprised. So I had to make an excuse. “I-I was just wondering about this art. It's very tropical! I really like this! You have great taste with this painting!” I did my best to avert my real reason. Sam however, noticed that I was hiding something.

“Really? Just the picture? Do you ever wondered if there was something hiding behind? Like one of them detective gut feeling?” He looked at me like I haven't said something important. I tried to joked. “Ha! Good one! Like the ones in Noir movies if you're rich enough.”

“True, like I’m hiding some important documents from a case I'm currently working on.” He suggested.

“Yeah... Or maybe some important evidence small enough?” I 'innocently' said while I scratched my back.

“Or maybe say... a small, wooden box?” He then suggested. “Mmmm... maybe if it's small enough, yes it would be a possibility.” I said with my eyes glued to the floor.

I then felt a tap on my head and I looked up to a pair of staring eyes. “Or maybe someone's not being completely honest about what he said. Did you know I have a 'knack' of finding out the truth in a bizarre way?” He crossed his arms and was expecting me to tell him what I know. After hearing his story, I can't blame him for suspecting treason for the third time

I then felt terrified in a long time. What am I supposed to say? I have 'super vision powers' to see the truth and secrets, please spare me? I begged him. “Please Mr. Toucan! I don't want to cause any trouble! I know you're not a bad person, but I really can't say what I know! I'm the only person that my own nephews can trust after-ah!” Then Tiara plopped on me like she wanted to lick my face. I then started to giggle a bit until she had snatched something VERY important and irreplaceable!

It was my special necklace... My mom's and my sister's special necklace!

“Give that back, Tiara!” I tried to get it back, but she was quicker and she handed it to Sam. “Please! Don't break it or take it away! It's very important to me!” I was scared and I was almost into tears.

He noticed my appearance and he softened a bit. “Easy. I'm not that type of person to pick someone like you. I just wanted to know the truth.” He said.

I didn't know that I was being too scared over this, but what I needed right now was that necklace. “I... I know what you wanted, but please! I don't want to be send to a mental hospital! My nephews are my only family left and vice versa! They can't go my relatives over seas right now! They're too young to understand-”

He then clamped my mouth. “Whoa!Whoa!Whoa! Slow down! I never said I was gonna turn you in. I'm asking how you knew something about that portrait I kept it a secret.” He tries to calm me.

I shook a bit but I was a bit relieved. He decided to hand over my necklace and I held it very close. “I... Thank you. I'm sorry... I've... had this ever since my sister gave it to me when I was fifteen. She told me that it used to belong to my mother that I never knew and that she told me that it was rightfully mine. Although, I never understood why, but it feels very special to me.”

“You've also mentioned about nephews and being the only one. Care to share that story?” He asked. Well... I decided to tell him about it.

After a while... I explained on my sister and my father's demise and my relatives.

“I see. So you're almost a single parent, but you could have asked one of your relatives to help out. I'm pretty sure they'll be more than happy to see them more often.” He asked as he handed over a cup of hot milk.

“Thanks. I know that they even insisted, but the thing is, I'm not sure that Inky or Winky are ready or mature enough to live with them. They ARE my sister's. They're nice but sometimes a bit of trouble makers. I'm afraid that they'll be spoiled or they'll give more hard time for them when they're supposed to be enjoying their golden years after raising kids.” I explained.

“I'm pretty sure that they wanted you to have some freedom at your age. Lots of guys wanted to have freedom. I was no exception despite some circumstances.” Sam said.

“I know what you meant, but I made a promise to my sister that I will be there for them. Luckily for me, they all understood and they said that they'll be there if I needed them. I was told by some that I'm so much more mature than my 'look a like' cousin... Which is a story for another time...” I scratched my head and took a sip.

“I can wait for that. However, I still wanted to know what's the deal earlier before you panicked. I'm not going to turn you in, I just... had a 'knacking' feeling you were hiding something.”

I gulped at that. Is it really alright with me telling him? Even if we've met 'officially' the second time?

“I... would you believe that I have a 'talent' that can see things... hidden and... other things?” I shookly spoke. That's it. I'm done for.

He then patted on my head like a kid brother. “Hey. You weren't lying. So I believe you.”

I opened my eyes wide open to him. See if he was lying, but he wasn't. “You... believed me? Just like that?”

“You want to know how I knew and why I do?” He then pointed at his nose. “Remember that part about that plane accident? My nose had somewhat started to act funny when people lie or hiding something. Not for sneezing, but more like irritating and it makes me pissed. Depending on who they are and my mood, my manners are from one to f#ck you. Just a penny for thoughts if I ever done that to you. I've been through a lot and now I barely give a damn now a days.”

Apart that last piece he can detect lies with his nose? Huh! Guess we're not so different at all.

“Say, Sam. Have you ever made new friends here since you've moved?” I asked.

“Most of the people at the court house are a bunch of Willy Wonkas and think they can please and sugar coat everyone and everything. I only dropped in their conversations if sh!t hits the fans when they screw up big time.”

Guess I have much work to do with him.

----- Woken up from cloud 7-----

“Hey! Sleepy head! Wake up! He's almost here!” The voice of Kitty had woken me up. I saw her and my nephews all excited. “Huh? Wha?”

“Uncle! It's Uncle Sam's birthday! Remember?” Inky shouted. “And his family is coming over from Canada! You told us, remember?” Winky in turn shouted.

“Boys! This is a restaurant! Use your inside voices.” I shushed them. “And no, didn't forget.”

Truth is, the reason why we decided to hold it here was today, is in fact, Sam Toucan's birthday. The only thing Sam doesn't know is that this is a surprise party. I then noticed Sam's car coming. “Hey, Felix! Over here! Before they see you!” I noticed Sheba's shouting from the other side of the room, where it was reserved and I was like 'I'm trying to teach these kids a lesson and you just broke the concept' look.

I was then dragged by the twins who followed Kitty into the reserved area, where it's like a private room, but thankfully for us we can see better in the dark and who else is there.

“Alright, is everyone ready? I see them coming.” Sheba notified us from behind the curtains.

I heard the others giggling a bit and some of us hushed as we heard Sam, Woody and Matteo coming up closer. They told him to duck his head before he hits that door frame. Thank God they did or  else he's gonna use words that aren't meant for children in any language.

As soon as they turned on the lights, we all shouted “SURPRISE!!!” All of us and also included, Sam's family from Canada which includes his faulty twin brother, Simmon, his wife *Ahem and ex-girlfriend, Ahem* Nelly, and his three nephews that looks a lot like him, Puey, Susey, and Louis. These three teenagers were identified by their colored scarfs of their scout uniforms, thankfully.

Sam chuckled with a rare happy feeling. “Well isn't this a nice surprise for a change.” I felt much happier than him, even if I would never admit it.

From back to that coffee shop where we first met, the stories he would tell, the patience I had to use whenever he was brutally honest, gaining his trusts little by little and then once the big pay off came, he did got better.

I'm not saying he's perfect, but he is-

“Felix, is that your name?” I was asked by Sam's little twin brother. “Huh? Yes, it is.” I said.

He talked to me while everyone was busy with Sam“I know this is a special day for both my twin and myself, but I wanted to thank you and your family to have a very memorable moment since we were younger. You've given him a very valuable gift that no money can buy.”

“I doubt it. All I did was being his friend.” It's not like I've turned to Batman and saved Gotham city at night. (At least not while I'm taking care of kids at the moment.)

“You gave him a reason to trust people. He barely did so when he came back from war. Sure, we all forgive each other, but he seems like he was, distant, from other people. Not to mentioned being cynical most of the time.”

“Yes. I know.” Being realistic and logical was one thing, but bitter and distrustful was another.

“I just wanted to know that if ever you need help, my brother and yours truly as a Royal Canadian Mountie, are available at anytime.” He placed his hands on my shoulder. “Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.” I thanked him.

I looked at Sam again to see that he's still having a great time. I looked at all of us to see that our 'family' had grown much larger since last time.

We might not be related, but we all care for each other and we all accept each other. Flaws and all.

And one day, we can be a one, big, happy, family.

----THE END----

Ahhhh..... I’m slugish and finally finished my OC’s humanized Sam Toucan’s backstory. 

As I’ve implied, he does have a faulty twin brother, Simmon. To help you understand him, he’s the Dudley do-right version.

I wanted to give him an opposite personalities, like ying and yang but they compliment each other.

Now for the wifey, I decided to choose Dudley’s sweat heart version too.

As for kids well, if you watched the froot loop’s commercials from more than two decades, he does in fact, have THREE nephews with the unofficial canon names in this story.

Now for this part of the story, I wanted to utilize the days from the Zodiac signs, the astrology one, to describe his character.

Which is also known as a Scorpio. 🦂♏ Like me!

And news flash for any Felix the cat and Mickey Mouse cartoon fans: Their Birthdays are under the Scorpio dates!!!!!

And to finish off, I wanted to write about how Felix and Sam’s friendship had been formed and evolves over time. So you can think it’s like Bendy and Boris but more on a friendship level than ‘Bromance’ or ‘BL’ level.

Sam is straight, end of story.

BBTIM AU and humanized characters belongs to Marini4. OCs like humanized Sam Toucan, Woody McPecker and Matteo belongs to me.

[veneataur]

I don’t quite know where this came from. I’m really starting to feel bad for Aramis. It’s a dark one again, sort of. It does have a happy ending though, if that helps.

TW: This story deals with self-harm and suicidal thoughts.

Only one more day and I’ll be done doing this to Aramis. At least on a daily basis...

Prompt: Shoulder to Cry On

Fandom: BBC’s The Musketeers

Title: Learning to Trust

Aramis observes d’Artagnan throughout the day. The young man is quiet, reserved, and listless. He knows that Athos and Porthos have seen it too but here, at the station, is not the place to address this. d’Artagnan’s silence makes them all quiet during the work day, on the train, and in the kitchen. Dinner too is a somber affair.

When the young man leaves his plate half eaten without offering to clean up, Aramis knows that it’s time.

“I’ll talk with him. You two clean up,” he says and follows d’Artagnan up to the man’s room. Though the door is half open, Aramis waits beyond the threshold. There are clear boundaries and rules in this house and not just because of Aramis. They all have their demons.

“d’Artagnan,” Aramis says quietly, knocking a knuckle on the door a couple times to further catch the man’s attention.

d’Artagnan looks up, face drawn. He is sitting on the edge of his bed, playing idly with the case of his phone.

“Mind if I come in?”

“You can come in,” d’Artagnan answers quietly. He knows Aramis won’t enter unless there’s clear consent unless danger is evident.

Aramis takes a step in and leans against the doorframe. The younger man’s room is far messier than his own. They don’t say anything about it. The only requirement is that he keeps it clean, a task that they all do for themselves with their bedrooms, their private sanctuaries. Athos had asked too that he properly hang up his posters rather than tape them to the wall. d’Artagnan griped about ruining the vibe, but he did as Athos asked. The young man is just twenty-two though he looks more like sixteen with the lack of facial hair that had come to be stereotypical of the Musketeers.

The two stand and sit in silence.

“Is this some kind of intervention,” d’Artagnan asks, mild irritation in his voice.

Aramis chuckles lightly.

“No. That’s more of a Porthos and Athos thing. They’re scary when they do a double-team intervention.” Aramis pauses. “It’s more of making sure you know that you can come to us. We’ve all been in your position. The first kill is the hardest.”

d’Artagnan huffs.

“I doubt any of you’ve been in my position, especially you, Aramis. I’m a farm boy. We had animals on the farm but never for eating. The most I’ve ever killed is some corn and it doesn’t have a face.”

Aramis waits, considers his words.

“d’Artagnan, do you think me being a sniper makes killing any easier,” Aramis asks, voice quiet. “The people I’ve killed had no idea a bullet was coming at them. They were enjoying their day, spending time with their families, watching a parade. Taking a life isn’t easy, whether you’re several hundred feet away or inches. It’s a person, just like you and me who had a life, family who will miss them, friends. They had goals and dreams and ambitions. And then, in an instant, it’s over, with a single pull of the trigger and you don’t even break a sweat, burn barely a calorie in the killing of a fellow human.”

“But he was a criminal,” d’Artagnan says. “He sold drugs to kids, got them hooked. How many did he kill with those synthetic drugs?”

“It doesn’t mean it’s any easier, d’Artagnan. A life is a life. It doesn’t matter if they’re good or bad, death is not the solution. Justice is and that doesn’t come at the end of a gun, no matter who you are.”

d’Artagnan looks at him and nods.

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” Aramis cuts him off gently. “You’re confused right now, not sure what you should feel.” Aramis walks slowly over the bed, sitting next to the young man.

d’Artagnan nods again.

“Part of me is glad that he’s off the streets and the other never wants to pick up a gun again.”

“That’s expected, normal. You should’ve come to us about it,” Aramis says. There’s no chiding in his voice.

“How could I? This is nothing in comparison to what you guys deal with, especially you.”

“d’Artagnan, we all need a shoulder to cry on once in a while. We’re brothers here, that’s what we’re here for. You can cry on any of our shoulders without guilt or embarrassment. Goodness knows I’ve done my share,” Aramis says with a slight huff.

“You?” d’Artagnan gives him a doubtful look. “You’re the strongest person I know. What with everything you’ve dealt with and you’re successful. You’re working at one of the most elite police forces in the nation.” d’Artagnan has been with them for a little more than four months now. He knows snippets of Aramis’ past and what he deals with now.

“You do remember how we met,” Aramis asks, turning the doubting eye back on the younger man.

“And that’s why you’re strong. You pulled yourself out of homelessness to get to where you are now.”

Aramis chuckles wryly and looks down.

“That’s a nice story but it’s not true,” he says.

“Who says it’s not,” Porthos says, just outside the door. d’Artagnan signals for him and Athos to come in. They both take positions near the door, leaning against the wall and doorframe.

“I know it’s not,” Aramis says. Then he sighs. “If it had been up to me, I’d’ve probably been long dead.”

“But…” d’Artagnan begins.

“When you’re in over your head in misery and depression, it’s very hard to pull yourself out of it. You need help. You have to want it, but you need help,” Aramis explains. “And the sooner you can accept that, the easier things will be.”

“Listen to ‘Mis on this one,” Porthos says. “You can always come to us, no matter what.”

“We’re family now, d’Artagnan,” Athos says. “And a family depends on each other to keep going.”

d’Artagnan gives them each a skeptical look.

“We’re not saying it’s easy,” Porthos says.

“No, it’s not,” Aramis says quietly enough he thinks no one hears.

“What happened, ‘Mis,” d’Artagnan asks. He doesn’t use Aramis’ nickname often. It feels awkward in his mouth but not this time. Aramis looks at him, a touch of sadness clear in his face.

“You don’t have to…”

“It’s fine,” Aramis says quickly, cutting him off. Perhaps it will help the young man to see that everyone needs help, even him who d’Atragnan sees as perfect. He takes a breath and when d’Artagnan thinks he’s going to speak, Aramis stays silent, shoulders sinking. d’Artagnan looks to Athos and Porthos, thinking they might jump in but they are standing there, patiently.

“Sometimes it seems like a lifetime ago,” Aramis says finally. His voice has a distant tone. “And other times, like it was yesterday. My first year on the task force, as a Musketeer, I worked two whole months before it all came down before me. I went from staying with Treville and his family to a spare bed crammed in Porthos’ bedroom, to here, Athos’ house and none of it was by choice. Four months on administrative leave did nothing. I just kept getting worse.”

“What happened,” d’Artagnan asks again.

“I gave up,” Aramis says simply.

“You?” d’Artagnan looks to Athos and Porthos.

“I still don’t remember a lot of it. It’s more of a giant black spot.”

“We remember it perfectly,” Athos says, a haunted look in his eyes.

“Do you mind,” Porthos asks, meeting Aramis’ gaze.

“You’ll have to because I only remember waking up days later,” Aramis says.

Porthos pauses before speaking.

“He’d been refusing to do much of anything for a while,” he says. “It’d happened before so we didn’t think much of it. He’d lay there listless but eventually come out of it. We talked to him and he’d tell us what was going on but it wasn’t everything.”

“I woke up one night suddenly,” Athos says. “It was strange because I’d taken melatonin, which usually kept me out until morning.

Athos remembers the strange feeling he had, it pulled him from his bed and he followed it out into the hallway where Aramis’ door was shut. It never was shut. The man didn’t like to be closed off from noise, from the world.

“Aramis,” he calls loudly, but calmly. He gives a few short knocks on the door. When there’s no answer, he hesitates for a moment and then cracks the door open. The nightstand light is on but Aramis isn’t in the bed. He isn’t in sight.

“Aramis,” Athos calls out again, more frantically this time, walking swiftly around the bed to see if the man is perhaps on the other side of the bed. And there he finds Aramis, unconscious and bloody.

“Porthos,” he yells out. He grabs some spare shirts that Aramis has lying on the floor and holds them against the wounds on his wrists. They’re not deadly wounds, but they are bleeding heavily. “Porthos,” he calls louder. “I need your help.”

Seconds later, he hears Porthos stumble and run out of his room right into Aramis’. He’s right across from the young man.

“Athos, what’s going on,” he asks, adrenalin chasing away the last vestiges of sleep.

“He’s cut himself,” Athos says. “Call 911.”

“You don’t want us to take him in ourselves?”

“No. Call, please,” Athos says urgently. “He’s been bleeding for a bit, I think, and isn’t waking up.”

Porthos doesn’t argue, running back to grab his phone. He’s already talking with the emergency operator when he walks back in.

“I don’t know. My friend found him maybe five minutes ago. He said he’s been unconscious the whole time.”

Athos tunes out the conversation as he changes out the half-sodden shirts with dry ones. The bleeding isn’t stopping and that worries him. They know that Aramis has been suicidal in the last year and made one attempt but he thought Treville got through to him.

When the paramedics arrive, Athos is shooed away briskly and watches with a vacant gaze as the paramedics work to stem the bleeding as best as they can and then whisk Aramis away. They don’t offer a ride to one of them and it’s only when Porthos asks where they’re taking him that Athos starts to process again.

“Come on, Athos, we have to get going,” Porthos says. His voice still sounds distant. “Athos, you okay?” Porthos stands in front of him, looking at him with concerned eyes. Athos looks back down at his hands, his bloody hands. Then he sees the stretch of carpet, the circles of blood-stained carpet, the t-shirts half-soaked with Aramis’ blood. And he vomits. Right there. Porthos moves quick enough to avoid the main bout but is hit with splatters. He holds his friend as he’s bent at the waist, violently throwing up. He winces at the harshness of each heave.

Then, as suddenly as it began, it’s over. Athos is left panting for breath and Porthos holds on still. He will feel this too eventually, but for now, his friends need him to function.

“Let’s get your hands washed, Athos,” he says quietly, directing Athos to the hallway bathroom.

“But Aramis,” Athos counters quietly.

“Will be there when we get there. We need to take care of you first. You can’t go walking around with blood all over your hands, now can you?”

Athos shakes his head and lets Porthos wash his hands. He’s too unsteady himself to take care of it. The warm water feels nice on his cold hands. When he’s done, Porthos grabs a hand towel and dries most of the water from his hands before leaving Athos to take care of the rest.

“Let’s get changed and then I’ll drive us over,” Porthos says.

“We should let Treville know,” Athos says.

“You can call him on our way over.”

They change out of their dirty nightclothes and make the drive to the ER. Athos calls Treville on the drive. Their Captain arrives minutes after them.

“Family for d’Herblay,” a nurse asks them as they walk to the desk.

“Yes,” Porthos says. “How is he?”

“The doctor is currently seeing him,” she says plainly, ignoring Porthos’ question. “You’ll have to wait out here.”

“Why? We’re his friends. His emergency contacts.”

“The doctor is busy working on your friend. When he’s done, you can go back.”

“Can you at least tell us if he’s okay?”

She looks at some papers. “He’s stable but in serious condition. The doctor is working on closing the wounds without much more blood loss.”

Aramis, when they get back to the exam room, a private one, is in a hospital gown. He’s been cleaned up and his wrists tightly bandaged. There’s the familiar array of machinery: wires for the heart monitor, a pulse ox monitor, IV, and nasal cannula. Beneath it all he’s pale and that, for some reason, shocks Porthos the most.

“How is he,” Porthos asks.

“A very lucky man,” the doctor says, finishing up his exam.

“Lucky?”

“If you hadn’t woken during the night, he’d’ve been dead.”

“He’ll make it then?”

“He should. We’re going to hold off on a transfusion. While he’s lost a good deal of blood, it’s not a critical amount and given time, he should be able to make it up on his own,” the doctor explains. “He’s been depressed, I gather.”

“Yeah,” Porthos nods, looking slightly puzzled at the doctor.

“And this isn’t the first time he’s cut himself?”

“What,” Treville says, turning to the others.

“We had no idea,” Porthos says, looking to the doctor.

“There are other marks on his wrists, in various stages of healing. He’s been doing this for a while. None of these are marks indicating suicide, but tonight’s are worrying.”

“Because they wouldn’t stop bleeding?”

“They were slow to stop because your friend is drunk and dehydrated.”

Treville turns to Athos and Porthos. “What’s been going on?”

“He was talking to us, trusting us, or so we thought,” Porthos says, confused and frustrated.

“His files show he’s not seeing a psychiatrist,” the doctor questions.

“He keeps rejecting them. I’m sure your files show he has a rather long list of illnesses,” Treville says. “It’s made finding the right one hard.”

“Well, he’s going to have to find one. I’m placing him on a three-day hold and he’ll have to talk with one of our psychiatrists.”

They nod. There’s no point in arguing. In many ways, they saw this coming.

They wait with Aramis in the ER and then in the room he’s assigned. He wakes fully a couple days after but he doesn’t talk. Instead, he rolls over and goes back to sleep. The psychiatrist comes in a few times and attempts to talk to him and when he refuses, his stay is lengthened.

By the eighth day, he’s stronger. He didn’t need a transfusion but he still looks pale and doesn’t bother getting out of bed. As much as Athos, Porthos, and Treville would like to stay with him all day, his sour mood and their own jobs make it impossible. Instead, they alternate hospital duty.

Lunchtime on day eight is Athos’ turn. He walks into the room to see a combative Aramis. A couple of male nurses stand on either side holding him down and putting soft restraints on his arms and legs as he continues to fight and yell at them.

“What happened,” Athos asks the psychiatrist.

“I tried talking with him again and when he refused, I told him his stay was lengthened again. He grew angry, tried to rip out his stitches,” she explains. “I know this looks harsh, but it’s for his own safety.”

“He’s not a danger,” Athos says, rather weakly.

“To others, no. But to himself, he is. We may need to look at a treatment facility.”

“No,” Athos says quickly. “No, not that.” He pauses for a moment. “Let me try talking to him. I have some experience with this sort of thing.”

“You studied psychology?”

“No. Personal experience,” he says, giving a slight, wry smile and then goes into the room. The nurses are done and Aramis seems to have figured out that his range of motion has been limited severely. The fight is gone from him and he lays on the bed, avoiding all glances.

When the nurses leave, Athos moves a chair close to Aramis, on the side where Aramis is facing. Not surprisingly, the man turns his head in the other direction.

“Do you want to die, Aramis,” Athos asks him bluntly.

Aramis doesn’t respond.

“It’s a simple question, Aramis. Do you want to die?”

Still no response.

“You know that you’re going to be kept here until you start responding. And they’re talking about something more long-term, like a treatment facility,” Athos says. “If you think this is restrictive, then you’ll lose any remaining freedom there. Trust me. Even the nice ones are depressing and dull. Treatment will be forced on you, is that what you want?”

This time Aramis turns his head to look at Athos.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were feeling so low? We want to help you but we thought everything was fine.”

Aramis’ face scrunches up and he tries to move his hands to cover his face, but they’re caught in the restraints. Athos thinks about letting one hand go, but he needs Aramis to confront this. Not hide away. He knows the younger man would do worse in a treatment facility.

“We’re your friends, Aramis. Your family. Families depend on each other to keep going. They talk to each other when something is wrong so we can help. Why Aramis?”

“I don’t know,” Aramis says quietly, voice raspy with disuse. Athos helps him drink some water.

“Do you not trust us? Did we do something wrong?”

Aramis shakes his head.

“Words, ‘Mis, please.” He doesn’t like forcing the man like this, but he wants to keep him talking.

“No.” Aramis doesn’t fight him.

“Then what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Aramis repeats, tears freely flowing now. Athos stands and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. He grabs one of Aramis’ hands in his own.

“What’s been going on?”

“I don’t know.” Aramis shakes his head lightly.

“You know. Tell me.”

“It’s… It…” Aramis trails off, unable to voice his problem.

“You can tell me. We’ve had this talk before. I don’t have all the same illnesses as you, but I understand depression. I know it’s erratic, cloying nature. Talk to me, ‘Mis.”

Aramis pauses. “Everything,” he says in a rush.

“Everything?”

“Everything.” Aramis is calming some.

“What do you mean?”

“The nightmares, the flashbacks, the panic attacks, the PTSD, the anxiety, the depression, work, life. Everything.”

“That is everything, from the sounds of it,” Athos says quietly.

“I didn’t mean to start but it helped. And then I couldn’t stop.”

“What about the other night?”

“That was an accident.” Aramis looks up, away from Athos’ gaze.

“That’s quite an accident.” Athos raises an eyebrow.

“I didn’t mean for it to be this bad.” Aramis looks back at Athos and he can see the sincerity in the young man’s eyes.

“But the fact is, it is this bad. But if you had talked with us, we could’ve helped you. Instead of bottling everything up until you think the only solution is hurting yourself, talk to us. We won’t understand always and we may not have a solution but we will listen as long as it takes. You’re not alone, but you have to want the help.”

“It’s not easy, Athos.”

“Oh, I know it’s not. It took me years to finally tell my parents but once I did it was better. Family helps family. That’s how it works.”

“I know, I know.”

Athos knows they’re battling against deep-seated trust issues. Friends had previously made such family pledges to him and abandoned him when Aramis needed them the most.

“How… how do I know this is real,” Aramis asks quietly.

“Is there something I can do to prove it to you easily?”

Aramis pauses to think. “No.” He shakes his head, looking away.

“Words are just that, ‘Mis. Words. You’re going to have to trust us.”

“And if you abandon me?”

“I won’t. Porthos won’t. Treville won’t.”

Aramis hesitates.

“It’s a big leap of faith, ‘Mis. And you have to decide if you’re going to make it. But I can tell you, it’s worth it. Porthos and I had to do the same with each other and I’ve never regretted it.”

Athos lets Aramis think in silence but he doesn’t move from the bed and he keeps his gentle grip on Aramis’ hand.

“It was just like that,” d’Artagnan asks, looking at Aramis.

“Not quite,” Aramis says. “Trust is easily broken but hard to establish. It took time but I’ve come to trust them with my life and I don’t regret it.” Aramis looks at Porthos and Athos.

“And now, you have to make that decision,” Athos says.

“We’re not going to force you and if you can’t trust all of us right away, that’s fine,” Porthos says.

“But find one of us to place that trust in because holding everything in like you have been, it’s not healthy. You have to get it out before it comes out in a way you don’t want,” Aramis adds.

d’Artagnan nods. He understands them. While he doesn’t have the emotional baggage that these men have, coming from a small town where he knew everyone, extending trust to strangers who he’s known for a few months isn’t easy. But perhaps he can try with Aramis first, the man did save him from being mugged after all.