after studying the blade and honing my thinking skills, I've perfected the haddock/billington family tree. or as I like to call it -- the joestars of bruhstation, because Things Just Keep Happening™ to its family members. I highlighted the people who have canon appearances in their respective source materials.

a few explanations of the relationships:

zorran is zip's guardian. they don't view their relationship as strictly brothers or father-son or whatever, but they consider each other important; family. if it weren't for zip and taking care of the boy, zorran could've become an even worse person (thanks, captain zero). also, found families don't necessarily need labels. they know they are important to each other, and they're content with that.

captain zero is supposed to be zip's guardian but he's busy being both a mid father and a mid boss. so he handed him to zorran and zorran took the wheel, albeit begrudgingly at first.

zorran eventually started a family of his own. his great granddaughter is emily (theotug/stanza halifax). his grandson is diesel, thomas' coworker (see the vin diesel family tree), technically making them very VERY distantly semi-related through zip. not really important though.

after zorran moved back to sicily, italy, he still kept in touch with zip through letters. zip also managed to visit his funeral when zorran eventually passed away.

ten cents and zip moved to england and adopted three children after world war 2 ended. they're in their mid 20s by then. they passed away when the kids were young adults. without their parents, they had several disputes over money and properties. they eventually separated. margaret stayed in london while annie and clarabel moved to sodor because of how brochures, magazines, and history books label it as "unique" and "quaint".

timothy is honestly kind of a mid brother. after he and thomas' parents died, he dragged thomas to sodor (reasons same as annie's and clarabel's), shields him from the outside world, and makes thomas completely dependent on him (he did this unconsciously) because timothy didn't want to lose anyone else. then he died and became sodor's ghost. cue casa tidmouth

annie and clarabel eventually took care of thomas.

annie married graham stroudley, but they divorced when cheryl was a teenager/young adult. graham took custody of cheryl and married lucy. cheryl moved to canada and married christopher. theodore was born. by blood relations, theodore is annie's grandson as much as he is to lucy, but he has extremely little to no memories of her.

looking at the family tree. thomas is ten cents' grandson. ten cents is thomas' grandfather. theodore is thomas' first cousin once removed (vice versa) and TC's great grandson

not really canon, but entertaining the idea that ten cents and zip are watching from the skies: ten cents and zip would absolutely adore theodore. teddy is just some sweet kind polite guy who does his best and cherishes his loved ones and that's what ten cents and zip stood for. thomas, on the other hand,

WIP Wednesday

because i can, and because it's a miracle i'm getting any words down at all rn!!

A week after the world had ended, before Eddie started inviting himself into Steve’s kitchen for breakfast prep and half-awake conversation, Steve and Eddie had been paired up to do a perimeter sweep and had absolutely nothing to say to each other. 

Eddie didn’t know how to thank Steve for carrying him half-dead out of hell, and if he was going to do it, it probably should’ve been when he woke up in the hospital to Steve watching his chest rise and fall as proof of life. He didn’t know how to say, hey, man, this whole situation has been fucked beyond belief but if you hadn’t been there with me, I don’t think I’d’ve even made it to that guitar solo on the roof, and I definitely wouldn’t be alive now. He couldn’t find the words to get the point across that he had a small circle of people in his life, and somehow Steve had cemented his place in it and Eddie didn’t let go of the people in his circle. Not before he descended into monsterville, and definitely not after. 

And Steve probably had things to say to Eddie, too, like an explanation for where he put Eddie’s fucking battle vest, or that he was sorry he made Eddie overhear that excruciating conversation with Nancy Wheeler in the RV about running off to be the Partridge Family or whatever. 

But that day, that first day in the woods, they had just walked in silence. Eddie had swung his spear back and forth awkwardly (Hopper hadn’t given him the sword yet) and Steve kept putting his hands in his pockets and then taking them out again. 

Finally, as they’d rounded the corner to the entrance to Loch Nora, where, off in the distance, they could see Hopper and Lucas and Lucas’ dad nailing together scrap metal to make a gate, Steve had cleared his throat and finally said something. 

“What song was that?” 

Eddie had cocked his head to the side. All he heard was wind through the trees — no birdsong anymore — and the distant clanging of hammers on metal. “What song?” 

“In the,” Steve had waved vaguely down at the ground. “When you and Dustin were the distraction. What song did you play?” 

“Oh,” Eddie had said. “Metallica. Master of Puppets. Could you hear it from the Creel house?” 

“Think the whole Upside Down heard it, dude,” Steve had said, smiling a little. “It was cool. I’d never heard that song before.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie had said, bouncing on his toes a little. “It’s from the new album, came out, like, three weeks ago? It took me days to learn that riff, man, look,” he held up his hands, “my fingers are still a little fucked from it.” 

Steve had grabbed Eddie’s hand and gave them a thorough once-over, and said, “Is that what these calluses are from?” 

“Yep,” Eddie had said. “Well, and-” 

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Steve had said, and Eddie’d laughed for the first time in days. 

“I wish our trailer hadn’t been ripped to shreds, man,” he had said, “I had the tape, you could’ve borrowed it from me. I could make you into a metalhead yet.” 

“Nah,” Steve had said, grinning at his boots. “I’m not metal enough for that, I think.” 

“Well, we’d start you with something a little easier to digest,” Eddie had mused. “Maybe some Alice Cooper.” 

“She sounds nice,” Steve had offered, and again, like a miracle, Eddie had laughter bubbling in his throat. 

“Yeah,” he’d agreed, soft with stupid, stupid feelings. “She’s a doll.”

If you're still answering tortall prompts, how about Raoul + family?

wow why NOT write 2000 words of blatant, shameless fluff about families you make for yourself??? inspired by this quote from tammy: “[Raoul and Buri] have glorious sex under trees, in tents, in lakes…. In carriages. I think at some point they’ll probably adopt. By the time they’re attached Buri’s getting a little old to have any of her own. It’s not like there aren’t plenty of orphans around.”

As Raoul stretched out, trying to make himself comfortable in his too-hard, too-small desk chair, he savored the warm feeling filling his chest and threatening to spill out and take physical form in front of him. In the midst of the most head-spinning, headache-inducing, sleep-sapping, joy-filled week he’d ever experienced, he’d had precious little time to slow down and simply exist within his new reality. He thought to close his eyes, the better to feel everything, but they only stayed shut for a moment before they forced themselves back open. He couldn’t stop looking at the scene in front of him for long.

Buri lounged cross-legged on their bed, far more relaxed than he had been at any point this week. Kel sat next to her, her back straight and her long legs carefully hanging off one side so as not to get dust from the practice courts on their bedding. Both had just returned from a full morning of training, sweaty despite a change of clothes and coated in dust despite a thorough washing, courtesy of a long, hot summer that had refused to give them rain.

Between them was the baby.

His son, he reminded himself. He thought the words a few extra times, even mouthing them once, as he had a thousand times in the last five days, as if forming them on his lips might make them feel more real.

None of this felt real to him yet. He supposed most people had nine months to get used to the idea before seven pounds of screaming chaos turned their lives upside down. He’d had exactly fifty-three days—he’d counted on Tuesday—so he supposed he still had some catching up to do. His mind was still reeling from the conversation that had led them here, and he wasn’t sure yet that he’d ever catch up.

He’d been sitting in this chair and pretending to read reports while mostly thinking about his right knee, which had been bothering him despite Duke Baird’s best efforts. He wasn’t sure why he remembered so specifically, since his days were nearly as certain to contain aches and bruises as they were to contain a sunrise. Buri had returned from a meeting with Thayet and Onua, although really, the word meeting conferred far too much dignity on what was more likely a combination of trick riding and palace gossip. They’d settled into the evening routine they’d shared for nearly a decade, working in comfortable silence with candles lit between them.

“Do you want children?” she’d asked, breaking the quiet spell of paperwork that gripped their nights.

“I think it’s a little late for that,” he’d replied with a snort.

She’d thrown a pillow at him. He had caught it and thrown it back without even looking up from the thick stack of papers in his lap, with a rude hand gesture following behind.

“You know what I meant. Did you want children? Before?”

Something in her voice had shifted. He’d finally looked up to find her eyes already trained on him. Her face had been so unexpectedly earnest that he’d actually taken a pause, had slowed the speed of their consistently paced banter, to think.

“I suppose I hadn’t given it much thought. There were friends, and then there was drinking, and then there was the Own, and then there was you,” he’d told her with a shrug. “I do like children, but I’m perfectly happy where I am.”

She’d chewed on her lip for a moment. He remembered being surprised by that. After nearly thirty years of friendship, she rarely took the time to think before she spoke with him anymore.

“Spit it out.”

“Do you want children?”

“And we’re back to the start,” he’d said with a grin.

“I spat it out. Now you answer it.”

“Hypothetically, sure, I’d enjoy a child. Now can I ask why you’re asking at all?”

“I’ve been thinking,” she’d started. She’d paused for a moment, holding her breath as though she was trying to decide whether she should speak at all. And then she’d let it all spill out at once. “I’ve been thinking it might be nice to have one. A child, I mean.”

She’d held up a hand and made a face before Raoul could even begin to formulate a joke about her monthlies or her aching hips or what they might do to make that happen. “Not like that. Thayet was telling us today about homes they’re opening in Corus, for children without parents. We were thinking about the children we traveled with back in Sarain, when Alanna found us all those years ago. Gods, it was terrifying, having Thayet and an infant to protect, especially when Thayet was ready to throw her life away for the infant. And I started thinking—we have money, and safety, and love, and there are all these children who have none of those things, and—”

She’d been speaking faster and faster, but she’d cut herself off abruptly at the look on Raoul’s face. “Never mind, you can forget—”

Raoul had smiled back at her, straightening up in his chair and marking his spot in the report on his lap before putting it aside. “So you want a child.”

The weeks that followed had been ones filled with paperwork and inquiries at the palace records about the process of appointing a common-born heir to a noble house and at the magistrate’s about drawing up paperwork for adoption. There had been careful planning and hushed discussions with only their closest friends about the best way to proceed. Buri had insisted on an older child, maybe eight or nine, saying that the few diapers she’d changed on the road to Rachia were enough for a lifetime.

Instead, five days ago, Buri had entered their rooms carrying a squalling mess of blankets with an air of forced nonchalance that had told him immediately what she’d done. Instead of clarifying, or teasing her, or asking if it was the smallest eight-year-old he’d ever seen, he’d simply held his arms out. While Buri had supplied endless explanations about Thayet ambushing her with a baby, he’d stared at the squirming mess of baby in his lap, blankets already coming undone, absolutely entranced.  

“He’s tiny,” he’d commented. His voice sounded like it was coming from someone else’s body. The baby was only just too large for him to hold in one hand, although he’d never try to prove it. The fragility of the life sitting in his lap was overwhelming.

“His mother died yesterday. Childbed fever, caught too late to help. The priestesses at the Goddess’ Temple were worried he might need more than the homes could give.”

Raoul had nodded, only half listening. The baby’s eyes were screwed shut while he wailed. His fine hair was dark, his skin tanned like that of the Bazhir babies Raoul had seen in his year in the Great Southern Desert. One of the baby’s hands had broken free of its blanket. It had waved in the air, keeping pace with his cries, which were far louder than he’d have believed such a tiny body could produce. He’d intercepted the hand with one finger and then watched in wonder as the baby had grasped it.

“Does he have a name?”

“Pathom,” she’d answered definitively, before belatedly remembering that names were the sort of thing parents might choose together. “That is, if—”

“Pathom of Goldenlake,” he’d cut her off with a smile.

The days that followed had been a blur. Thayet had found a wet-nurse and supplied an endless stream of goods that they’d have never known a baby required. Alanna had ridden in from Pirate’s Swoop at full speed to pronounce in a gruff voice that the infant was in perfect health. Gary had gifted them a bassinet and more blankets than any human child could possibly need. Dom had found a way to convert a standard-issue burnoose into an excellent baby sling, while Evin had given them a congratulatory note from George, who complained that Alanna had left before he could finish writing, and a cheerful promise that he’d never touch a soiled diaper. Onua had given them a set of unimaginably soft stuffed ponies, perfect replicas of the horses that roamed the highlands of Sarain where she and Buri had learned to ride.

Kel, away on business with Second Company at the Gallan border, had to wait almost a full week to learn she had a new godsson. He’d met the company when they’d arrived back at the palace long past dark the night before. They’d groomed Hoshi and Sparrow together while he thanked the gods for perhaps the hundredth time that her “testy pony” had finally found his way out of the Own stables and into a pleasant retirement.

Finally, when the last of the men had trudged towards the barracks and a well-earned nights’ sleep, she’d turned to him.

“Well?”

“There’s someone important I want you to meet,” he’d said, shoving his hands in his pockets with a smile that was equal parts nervous and eager.

“Sir, I’ve already met your wife.”

Raoul had let out a hearty chuckle. “But you haven’t met my son.”

Kel had frozen. Her face fell back into perfect stillness, the way it did when her mind was working its fastest.

After a second that felt like an eternity, she replied, “Sir, I saw Buri five weeks ago. If you’re telling me you’ve managed to grow a baby since then—”

“We didn’t, but someone else did. We adopted him from the Temple after his mother died in childbirth.”

Understanding flashed in Kel’s eyes while her face broke into a rare broad grin. She’d wrapped her arms around him in a fast, tight hug accompanied by enthusiastic congratulations that had gone suddenly silent in surprise when he’d added, a wicked glint in his eyes, “You really should come by tomorrow to meet your godsson.”

Buri had intercepted Kel on the practice courts the following morning with the dual goals of keeping her own skills sharp and ensuring that Kel would not be too polite to visit. And so now, he watched as Kel bounced his son with the brisk certainty of someone who had held a baby a thousand times. He could hear her cooing quietly at Pathom, softening her consonants while she told him all about forest campaigns in hill country. He knew he should ask her to speak up—if she was going to give her report verbally, she could at least give it at a volume he could hear—but he found he wasn’t particularly interested in the intricacies of the Second’s bowstring supplies. Buri made eye contact with him behind Kel’s back, laughter in her eyes. Buri could laugh if she wanted, but he was taking notes on Kel’s tactics. He would have sworn this was the quietest he’d heard his son in the entirety of his hundred-and-twenty-odd hours in the palace.

As his son stared wide-eyed at his former squire, Raoul was reminded of a comment he’d heard as they’d left Turomot’s offices the other day with paperwork making Pathom officially their own. “Well, that feckless Goldenlake dolt’s managed to start a family, even if it was too late to do the thing properly,” the Lord of Genlith had muttered at their backs as they’d left. Buri had elbowed him and whispered a quick “Feckless? I’ll show him feckless,” but her heart wasn’t in it. Before she’d even finished the thought, her eyes were back on Pathom, squirming against her chest in the burnoose that bound him to her.

And now, Raoul watched his son, passed between his wife and the woman who had been like his daughter long before any papers said he was a father. Stuffed Saren ponies lined the shelf above an intricately carved bassinet filled with beautifully embroidered blankets. A protection charm had been pulled from Alanna’s packs to hang at the head, while twin leather circles bearing the insignias of the Riders and the Own, no doubt carefully cut by mischievous commanders from the saddle packs of some unprepared trainees, was secured carefully at the foot. Raoul had to smile for a moment at Genlith’s ignorance—he’d begun his family right on time.

Get Some Rest Tall Child

(CF! Gang Meets C! Sides Part 3/Final Part) (part 1 // part 2)

The campfire gang, as they called themselves, convinced Thomas and the others to go to their hangout place to build, as their name suggests, a campfire. The gang then went to various sides to prod them with questions.

Ro went with Patton who ended up basically adopting the boy, asking about his life and how he’s doing in school. They were sat on the ground by some flowers and they were starting to make flower crowns. The duo looked over at the others and laughed at the strange situations they’ve gotten themselves into. Dee and Re was sitting side by side on some logs chatting to Virgil and Roman respectively. Roman looked increasingly baffled at how much Re loved his brother. Re cackled at his face and told him how he and his own brother were just like them once. Roman doesn’t know what to feel about how kids half his age have better development with familial relationships than him (and he should work on that, he thinks, cause he secretly misses his brother). Dee on the other hand feels a twinge of disappointment on how Virgil and Janus’ relationship is more rivalry than anything but he and Virgil exchange tips on how to perform the perfect revenge plot.

Pat and Remus paired off as they planned from the start. They were building the campfire by themselves as they chatted about various dark topics. It seems setting something on fire helped them calm down a little. Remus looked happier than ever, talking to someone with a darker sense of humor.

Vee was showing Thomas and Janus his dream journal. Vee was giving a thorough explanation of his dreams to Thomas, giving explanations on how bad thoughts does not make you a bad person with Janus giving commentary on Thomas’ awful sense of self-worth, both of them effectively ganging up on Thomas to make him feel better about himself. They reached a page of the dream journal that has a strange looking creature on it.

“Uh, what is this?” asked Thomas.

“Oh! This is a dream monster! He’s called Tho– now wait a minute!”

Finally Logan was the only one who paired off with his actual counterpart. He was trying to unsuccessfully convince Lo to get down from a tree.

“Please get down from there. It is dangerous and if you fall you could break something,” called out Logan. “Can’t break anything if you don’t have bones!” “That is factually untru—hold on how did you get a lion up there?!” Lo has managed to get B O N G W A T E R in the tree with him via forces unknown to the mortal realm. “This isn’t a lion, this is B O N G W A T E R,” he supplied. “Bongwater?” “No, it’s pronounced B O N G W A T E R,” said Pat who came over with Vee and Remus to where Logan was standing. “Oh my Satan, your counterpart has a lion? Mad respect to you dorks!” said Remus to Logan’s exasperation. “Get down from there Lo!” Pat called, “The campfire is going already!” Lo nodded and scaled down the tree. Once he hit the ground, he opened his arms for B O N G W A T E R to jump into. It was an almost comical sight to see the huge lion cub in Lo’s arms. At this point it was late in the afternoon, the golden glows of the sun casting down over the group. Most of the group had sat around the campfire. Lo gave his counterpart a long hard stare. “Do you know anything cool?” he asked. Logan looked hesitant, but he pulled out a hundred dollar bill and handed it to Pat. “Light this on fire please,” he said, to everyone’s horror and Pat’s delight. “Hell yeah! Fuck capitalism!” Pat went over to the campfire and put the bill over the fire till it lit up. He quickly took back his hand and set the bill on the ground. The teens ran over the bill, screaming in dread. But to their surprise, despite the fire going over the bill, the hundred dollars was completely unharmed. The fire went out and it was crisp, without any burns. “I find that trick particularly ‘cool’. I lathered that bill with hand sanitiser, which the fire burnt by itself without damaging the bill. Of course it’s rather ‘nerdy’ but—“ Logan rambled but trailed off in surprise at the wonder in the kids’ eyes. He coughed, slightly embarrassed. “That was awesome holy shit! Got anymore tricks, teach?” Pat asked excitedly. “Um—I can make the fire change colors?” Logan offered, not believing their interest in what most considered boring subjects. “No WAY! Make it turn PURPLE!” gasped Vee, shaking in anticipation. Logan, flushing a little in happiness, walked up to the campfire. He fished out a bottle from his pocket. “This is potassium salt,” he said in his teacher voice, “—and this is what it can do,” With that he drops what was inside the bottle into the flames, making it turn a pretty shade of purple. Vee practically screamed in enthusiasm. The other teens came a little closer to observe what was happening. “This is boric acid,” Logan said, pulling out another bottle, this time with liquid, “—and it turns the fire a shade of?” He pours it over the fire, and the fire turns bright green. “GREEN,” Re and Vee laughed and jumped around. Lo started laughing along with them, looking absolutely taken by the experiment. Logan rubbed at his neck, starting to smile himself. “I have more science experiments but it might not be—“ “We wanna do it! We’re going to do it!” Pat said, smacking the grass in determination. Logan looked suspiciously teary eyed, but he shook it away. The little gremlins look so into it, how could he say no? “You kids want to help me make a Rube Goldberg machine out of stuff you find laying around?” he asked, breaking into a full grin. That’s how the three gremlins managed to drag Logan into looking around for trash and useful junk for the rest of the afternoon. “Huh, I really thought that guy was a stick in the mud, and judging from the looks on your faces you didn’t expect this to happen either,” Dee commented. The sides and Thomas mostly looked surprised as well. This wasn’t how they thought the day would turn out to be honest. Patton however, looked sad. A forlorn look on his face as he gazed at Logan laughing with kids around him. “He really isn’t. A stick in the mud I mean. He’s just a bit used to being so serious, being surrounded by adults. He’s a kind person at heart, and loves teaching people so much. I guess he’s just never had any students for so long,” “We used to listen to him and what he tells us. But as we grew, we’ve developed and became focused on ourselves and we didn’t really need a teacher anymore,” Patton turns his gaze on the sides, “And we got used to ignoring what he says to us, we missed the important stuff that we needed to hear too.” It was quiet, and guilt hanging above them like a cloud. They were broken from their thoughts when Ro cleared his throat. “For what it’s worth, Lo is my best friend. I don’t know how your relationship with your Logan is, but I love Lo very much. If he were ever going through something hard, I’d do my best to help him out. I’ve faced that same sort of communication issues myself,” “To put it shortly, Re and I used to not like each other as much. But it grew too much and we ended up in worse places than we are now. I’m pretty happy now that he and I are in better terms and I can proudly say I love him,” Ro said smiling at his brother. Re grinned, giving him a side hug. Roman’s heart ached a little, giving Remus a glance. Remus clenched his fist and grit his teeth. They need to work on that too. God these kids were forcing them to face their awful feelings. Maybe, once they return home.

 Re also managed to pull Dee into the hug, which made Dee groaned at.

“Don’t complain! You love your sibling as well!” snarked Re. “I’d kill anyone who harms Virgil,” Dee informed him, deadpan. “That’s love Dee!” Dee sighed and smiled, “Yeah…”

Virgil looked at Dee for a minute, before looking at Janus who was pointedly avoiding his gaze. Virgil looked away and the tension between them was incredibly dense until, “He’s not right, you know,” Janus said quietly, making Virgil whip his head to him in surprise. “Really?” “Really.” Patton smiled and met Thomas’ eyes. It was a good start, he thinks. This is for his family. The seriousness of the situation broke when Roman got hit with handful of leaves. “HAHAHA OH MY GOD IT ACTUALLY WORKED!!” The group turned to the gremlins that were beside a complicated machine made of junk, which triggered leaves to be thrown into people’s faces. They all had matching grins. What was endearing was that the same grin was plastered on Logan’s face. “Quickly now kids, before we get caught!” was the only warning Logan gave, before picking up all three of the teens in a surprising show of strength and started running away from Roman who began chasing them.

– The day ends with them around the campfire. Similar shenanigans occurred before they calmed down, including Remus and Re finding some raccoons and stealing various road signs, Janus giving Dee a long and detailed list of how to convince someone to do things for you, and Pat telling Patton that ‘he’s…okay for a dad’ which prompted Patton to burst into tears. But they’re back by the campfire. Lo, sensing a shift in mood pulled out his guitar. The sides felt like this shouldn’t shock them from the day they’ve had, but they were still a little surprised. It was quiet, with only the sound of the fire and Lo’s strumming. Then he hummed along, and then he sang, smooth and calming. “Why are there so many Songs about rainbows And what’s on the other side? Rainbows are visions But only illusions And rainbows have nothing to hide,”

Later that night, they go home, the sides and Pat staying over at Lo’s home because his parents were away.  Everyone says their good nights and their goodbyes. Logan looked sad but he was happier than he’d ever been in a long time. “So we’ve been told and some chose to believe it, But I know they’re wrong wait and see,” When morning came, they were alone and while nothing changed here, they knew everything was changed somewhere else.

“Someday we’ll find it, the rainbow connection. The lovers, the dreamers, and me.”

The End (Note: So this was like nearly 5k words :D. Sorry for the litol teensy weensy berry smol angst I got carried away. I hoe y'all like it! I haven’t written in a long time but writing this was a delight. It is currently 3:30 am here but I finished this off just to post this last bit. Happy day to you all :D I’m going to sleep now :D) 

THIS WAS SO WHOLESOME OMG DSGHFGSDHGFHSJFD AAAAA I AM VERY SOFT RN DGSHDHSJ

Also hope u dont mind me editing for putting links to part 1 and 2 

but aaa frfr thank so so much omg i really enjoyed it

All in the Family

Chapter 121: Seen and Unforeseen

The house was dimly lit, very old, and had seen better days before the eight of them crash landed in here.

Sirius was thrown so bodily into an old couch he felt something snap inside of it.

James crashed upon a bed that spit up on an unseemly amount of dust.

Remus slammed against a bookshelf so hard, it wobbled dangerously, like it was all going to crash down right on top of him.

Peter landed alone, in a dingy room that had the nearest excuse for a bed in a corner, the book on top, and that was it.

Alice was in some sort of wine cellar that clearly had the most use, judging by all the missing bottles on the rack.

Frank was thrown so hard against a door his nose busted.

Regulus found himself in a barren backyard, in an unfamiliar neighborhood, spotting a dirty river that wound between overgrown, rubbish-strewn banks. An immense chimney, relic of a disused mill, reared up, shadowy and ominous. There was no sound apart from the whisper of the black water.

Lily landed on the roof, and was not inclined to come down when she recognized a horribly familiar house in the distance with a cat weather-vane, that patch of trees behind the park just across the street, or the sign at the end declaring this is as Spinners End.

Frank blinked the spots out of his eyes as he realized he was in the room with Remus, and made a valiant effort not to flinch and run from the room as he fumbled for his wand in the semi-darkness and pointed it at his own streaming nose silently casting the spell, still trying to blink the stars away.

He wasn't entirely convinced he'd managed to hide it all, but it was still better than screaming. At least they were both saved from any stilted conversation by a shouting from behind the bookcase he'd landed in, Peter demanding if anyone could hear him.

Frank and Remus moved in tandem without even looking at each other, both tapping the bookshelf first, but whatever spell they'd tired had no affect, so giving it a shove, and still it didn't seem to want to move.

Sirius roused himself from the couch, shaking his hair out of his face as he went over and called, "stand back Pete!"

Frank looked at him in confusion. "What are you-"

Remus grabbed the back of his robes and pulled, pushing Prongs back into the room he'd just tired to leave from and slamming the door behind the three of them.

There was a soft, muffled exploding noise that seemed to shake the whole house, but at least when five of them converged back in the living room, it was to see the two of them waving smoke out of their face and bickering.

"Could have killed me you arse!" Peter was huffing as he brushed dust from his long ruined clothes.

"What, I got you out didn't I?" Sirius pointed out in exasperation. The bookshelf lay in a scattered mess around them like a war map.

"Remind me never to get rescued by him again," Frank muttered quietly to Alice, who snorted in surprise at him making such a dark joke.

"Where are we?" James interrupted the two, circling curiously on the spot.

Remus went over to a mounted wall light and flipped it on, but the bare bulb only cast the corners of the room into heavier shadows and illuminated their destruction upon arriving. There was an empty mantle, and Regulus knew there to be a very tiny kitchen he'd passed through to get in here, with a few muggle contraptions he couldn't recall what they were called, but he'd seen back in the Dursleys house, if lesser models in here.

"Hey, where's Lily?" Alice asked in concern.

Regulus had spotted a hint of her flashing red hair on the roof, but she'd sat herself down, and he figured she'd be in here by now if she wanted to be so obviously didn't want to be disturbed. "Well, I don't hear anyone else screaming for help, so let's get on with this." He summoned the book to him, which came shooting out of the room that had been behind the bookcase.

Frank thought him a bit more of an arse than usual, he'd thought they'd almost been getting along back in the Weasley's kitchen, and he really didn't care? The end of the last chapter wasn't that pressing of an issue to keep going! The chapter title illuminated no explanation. Seen and Unforeseen? That could mean almost anything!

He and Alice went in search of the house one more time with a thorough inspection but only found more dust and disuse, and then went out back just to make sure, but finally spotted her on the roof, just sitting up there and gazing into the distance.

The two exchanged an uneasy look, feeling almost bad now they'd forced their company on her back in the last place, but they also didn't want her to have to go through this alone. Snape was still being more of an arse than ever in those Occlumency lessons, and it was clearly getting to her. They didn't know what else to say though, they'd made it as clear to her as they could they still wanted to be friends to her whatever her decision regarding him, and if she didn't want to talk about it in the meantime they could hardly force her.

They went back inside, holding hands and hoping their friend knew she could join them when she was ready.

The chapter itself wasn't offering much in the meantime, Hermione was patiently explaining exactly how Harry's date was a disaster with Cho in almost painful detail. Alice watched James in particular during this to see if he was bothering to take notes, and to her unbelievable surprise he seemed to be.

Remus and Sirius were behind him, whispering and snickering more bad advice they hadn't managed to say during the last bits, but Potter was ignoring them and watching Regulus with an intent expression and still looking around hopefully like he wanted to catch a glimpse of somebody else's red hair besides the arriving Ginny and Ron.

Frank had the vague impression he'd pay Hermione to invent said book, 'Translating Mad Things Girls Do So Boys Can Understand Them.' "Have I ever mentioned how much I love you," he told his girlfriend seriously. His nerves had been a havoc convincing himself to ask her out, but it had practically been smooth sailing from there.

"I certainly never grow tired of hearing it," she giggled.

"Well Ginny at least gets better with every mentioning," Sirius perked up in delight at hearing the news she stole her brothers brooms for practice. He had no idea what Prongs saw in Evans, the girl was a nut not even liking the sport. "Don't be getting ideas though you little shit," he added quickly when Regulus gave him a curious look.

Regulus huffed and muttered something about having his own broom thank you as he kept going.

Another game came and went, this time with Harry completely in the stands having to watch as his replacement Seeker spotted the Snitch slower than he would have, the whole miserable experience capped with the score and they were all wondering now if Ron would ever manage to save a goal.

"Honestly, I think I'd just let him quit out of pity after that," Peter winced, he'd take giving up with dignity instead of another fiasco.

"Oh come on, he's got it in him," James bolstered at once, his eyes lighting in excitement. "There's totally a way to fix this problem! First you put one person in the stands until Ron could easily ignore that person no matter what they said or did, and then keep adding people until Ron could block them all out. I don't care how long it took, I'd find a way so that Ron would never let someone get the better of him like this."

"Cheers Prongs," Sirius mock raised a glass at him to everyone's stunned silence except Sirius it seemed. "You're a shoe in for captain next year."

"I'd better be," he nodded, and they couldn't even blame him for the pig-headed tone.

Peter sighed and took an uneasy step back as Remus just laughed in agreement. He swore they'd only liked him before because they'd shared a dorm with him so long, it's not like he was anything like them. He'd made a fool of himself in Keeper tryouts at the beginning of the year trying to get onto the team, and he certainly hadn't blamed the current captain for picking the younger player who saved all of her goals rather than his measly three. Both James and Sirius had promised at the time they'd come out and practice with him for next year even as a reserve player, but of course nobody had seemed to have time for that.

Regulus had watched the entire thing, debating whether he should say something, but Peter just shook his head and waved him on.

Sirius had watched the exchange, and had to bother his mind for several moments as talk left Quidditch and Harry was assaulted by owls for his article in the Quibbler getting released earlier than usual before finally remembering and guessing what must be bothering Peter now.

He winced, just a bit. It's not like they'd done it on purpose, he could have come down to Quidditch practice any time with them but usually stayed up in the dorms with Remus, it's not like Peter had ever brought it up himself again.

He still wanted a way to talk to both of them, but was drawing a blank as to how. Percy wrote the most obnoxious letter possible, he accused himself, you can just go over there! It was easier said than done though, some part of him was still afraid they'd just turn on him again, what the hell was he supposed to do to convince himself otherwise, let alone them.

"I guess that explains the seen part of the title," Remus interrupted his grumbling thoughts with an uneasy smile. "Now what do you suppose the unforeseen bit will be?"

"Some more madness to do with Trelawney I'm sure, that old bat can't foresee the weather," Sirius shrugged without care. He was getting vaguely annoyed watching Peter and Regulus take a few more steps back and start whispering about all the reactions to that article being mailed to Harry, but again he couldn't find any good reason to snap at the two for a moment. He wished he could drag Moony off for a snog, just for something to entertain them, but even if he was trying to consciously stop doing that for now so Prongs wouldn't think he was being ignored, he didn't trust this place enough anyways.

The two of them stopped in outrage as much as anyone though when Harry was banned from Hogsmeade by Umbridge because of this.

"That rotten creampuff needs to have her tounge cut off!" James spluttered in disgust.

"At least Harry doesn't have to follow that decree," Peter reminded grimly, "but I'll get the knife."

Frank and Alice watched as this was clearly the most insulting thing she could do to the Marauders, even if they would have ignored this and every other rule from her as thoroughly as they already did to every other in the castle.

It was of some comfort to Regulus at least that Umbridge's plan to ban the article at least backfired and the whole school found themselves reading it, he certainly enjoyed that part.

Things just continued to spiral downwards from there, as Harry had yet another vision of You-Know-Who torturing someone, though at least this time it was another Death Eater rather than someone they had to care about. Regulus was shivering in revulsion by the end, almost in tears as he kept picturing himself in that future still rather than Rookwood if he didn't find some way to talk his parents out of this when he got back. He wasn't like Sirius, he couldn't just run off to someone's house and expect to be taken in if his parents kicked him out for it!

Sirius nearly went to him then, his feet even began moving unconsciously to do it, Regulus looked miserable and wretched as he read that and clearly his worry about Regulus thinking this would never happen to him was wrong, but then Peter put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and whispered something just for the two of them. Sirius stopped cold and leaned back on his heels instead, they really didn't need him to make it worse if he tried to help.

James listened to it all while having to fight off a scream, he couldn't just come up with a plan for his son on how to casually combat this madness continuing to happen to him! He was nearly screaming and jumping on the spot in outrage as Snape still managed to make the whole experience worse during that next Occlumency class, all but confirming his job as a spy Death Eater, but for whose side he still couldn't trust.

He wished Evans was back down here more than ever, he'd love to watch her in particular to see how she took to him still insulting Harry every other breath after torturing his mind like this!

Something new happened on the next round though to break him out of his revere, and none of them were sure what would happen when Harry cast some kind of retaliation back from Snape's curse, in the form of Protego.

A girl was laughing as a scrawny boy tried to mount a bucking broomstick, and the Marauders felt a thrill of laughter at remembering this as their first flying lesson, and the idiot had done all that to himself, the girl had been Mary Macdonald, but everyone present had been laughing, even Evans would swear she hadn't been despite her twitching lips as she'd pulled him away back to the castle while Hooch had gone after the wayward broom when he landed.

A greasy-haired teenager sat alone in a dark bedroom, pointing his wand at the ceiling, shooting down flies, and Sirius sneered at Snape being such an awful person. He clearly knew the feelings of being alone then, but the idiot wasn't any good at making friends to fix the problem. He didn't even like Evans and he still pitied her having to deal with Snape.

*And then suddenly the last memory was being described, and they all felt a shot of horror as this very room was described, and a hook-nosed man was shouting at a cowering woman, while a small dark-haired boy cried in a corner...

"Oh shit," James muttered, turning crazily on the spot for who knew what, before bursting out of the back door so loud he almost startled Lily off the roof.

She'd been listening with a tightly knit stomach that ached so bad during the whole chapter she wished she could expel all of her intestines with a very particular potion in mind even before it had gotten to Snape's memories, then she'd contemplated jumping from the roof and barging in to stop all this before it went past that first memory.

She had no choice though, she knew that she couldn't save Sev from them hearing about this anymore than she could rescue Harry from the way he was treated. She still hadn't been expecting Potter to come thundering from the house and looking around wildly before spotting her up here.

She didn't know what he meant by it either when he gave her a long, beseeching look, before just sitting down in the grass and waiting out here patiently with her. He didn't apologize, try to get up there with her, or do much of anything besides that.

Her arms finally loosened their tight grip around her knees just a smidge, even she wouldn't deny to herself she felt just a tad bit less alone now just for his presence. She couldn't hear what the others had to say about this, still honestly didn't want to know what that explosion and all the general shouting that had been going on inside was.

She'd never have shared all she knew of Sev's home life with them if given the chance, he'd never even really told her, but she'd suspected it was something like this with the crude comments he made, particularly about his dad.

He'd sneak over to her window when it was a bad night, just like she would go to his when Petunia said something particularly vile, and they'd go hide out in their spot until they'd talked and laughed and it was bearable enough to go back.

Didn't he remember all that when he was being the same abusive arse to Harry? Did he care at all for how it would make Neville feel to be reduced to tears when he nearly had so many times? Did he find more comfort with those cruel friends who offered to torture muggles instead of her commiserating, was that why he wouldn't stop talking to them?

Regulus Black finally kept going, and she knew nor cared what their resolution to this revelation had been, she just wanted to shake Severus and demand answers why he was like this as he just vindictively ignored the whole instance like his past meant nothing to him and turned his wand on Harry again.

Her son found himself in You-Know-Who's mind once more, longing to break past that locked door, and for once managing such a thing and finding himself in the circular room of doors they'd already seen once before. Hot tears spilled out of her cheeks as he just insulted him again for not trying hard enough, as if it weren't her eyes in Harry's face that was begging for help to make this stop. Harry hadn't asked this happening to him anymore than Severus had ever purposely induced Tobias' anger.

Then a scream interrupted before the torturer could go any farther, and the two left it for the night to see what other catastrophe had befallen the castle. Lily bit down hard on her lip to stop a sob of relief escaping it was over again, for now.

The distressed person turned out to be Trelawney screaming over the fact she was finally being given her pink slip by a woman who needed to be buried alive in the color.

Umbridge was somehow even more revolting than usual as she glorified in the Divination teachers dismissal, while a crowd of students could only stand there and watch the poor woman's life get thrown down the stairs.

Lily glanced down and saw Potter's look of disdain for the very same, and she wanted to scoff he thought himself better when he had an audience to most of his shows. He embarrassed and tormented others for his own amusement just like Umbridge. She stopped the thoughts cold though as she imagined what Harry would think of this, and forced herself to really hear her own mental tirade, she knew she was still angry at Severus and lashing out.

James Potter was an arrogant toerag who did whatever for his own amusement, but he'd never driven anyone to tears, let alone stand proudly above the scene of his crime. If the person their prank was used on didn't laugh along, he usually just took the detention with grace and didn't target the same person again. If the curse he'd sent left someone unable to get to the hospital wing, he'd almost inevitably do it himself, if not one of his friends slinking off to go find somebody who would while he took the detention with a smile.

He was an arse, but he wasn't curel, not like Umbridge was until Dumbledore stepped in and stopped the show.

She sighed one last time as she kept looking back on the past five years of her school life with a giant question mark plastered over everything, one she wasn't convinced even a centaur for a teacher could help unravel.

HPHPHPHPHP

*Just so you all know I'm acknowledging it and it's not a mistake, I did do the memories in reverse order that they actually appeared in the story for my own benefit.

Operation Count Chocula

A/N: Idek what this is... you can thank @somefeministtheatrepls for this, based on this post. I changed it up a little! Gets a little cracky and I have no regrets

~2.5k words

Rated T for one (1) mildly dirty joke

Read on AO3

XXX

If someone had asked Blaine his senior year of high school whether he was going to be an active member of Greek life during college, he would have laughed in surprise and told them a solid no. His first year in college proved that his stance wasn’t as firm as he’d initially thought. 

Quinn had been the one to recruit him into Nu Beta Kappa. She was in his Reading in Short Story and Drama class, and after working on their final project together, she convinced him to rush NBK. She had pointed out that Greek life wasn’t all about parties and hazing, and that NBK focused on serving the community and striving for social equality. 

Currently, he was in his Junior year of college and in the chip aisle of the local Walmart, standing next to his Big Sister, the aforementioned Quinn Fabray. 

“I hate shopping for the house,” she lamented. “There are better things I could be doing with my life at three AM on a Friday night.”

“Isn’t it technically Saturday, then?” Blaine pointed out. 

“Aren’t Vice Presidents supposed to support their Presidents?”

He mocked a salute at her. “Nothing but respect for my President, madam Fabray.”

Blaine suddenly whipped his head around when he heard Santana, their Sergeant at Arms, cry out from the next aisle down. “You can have this box of Count Chocula when it falls from my cold, dead, hands, Gromit!”

He and Quinn exchanged concerned looks before sprinting down to find Santana. When they found her, Puck and Brittany, two more Nu Beta Kappa sisters, had shown up in support and were standing behind her. Santana had a death grip on the family size box of cereal, but so did the unusually tall boy standing across from her. 

Blaine recognized him as Finn Hudson, the treasurer for Omicron Sigma, Nu Beta Kappa’s “masculine” counterpart. They had the same values as NBK, but NBK had been started by female students who were not allowed to rush OS in the 1940s. In the end, both organizations eventually became co-Ed (all members of OS were “brothers” regardless of gender, and likewise, all members of NBK were “sisters”). However, they never did quite seem to overcome that bad blood between them.

There were four more members of OS standing behind Finn. A blond haired guy with a large mouth, a dark skinned girl with curly hair and a stylish beret, a short girl with bangs, and...

Blaine made a sharp intake of breath because standing next to the girl with beret was the most gorgeous guy he’d ever seen. He was wearing a grey hoodie with Property of ΟΣ printed in athletic font in the front, on top of checkered pajama pants. His hair, though disheveled from an obvious lack of sleep, was still light and had bounce to it. His eyes crystal blue eyes were half lidded, and seemed sunken in with drowsiness. 

Blaine thought he looked fantastic.

“This cereal is for my girlfriend!” Finn exclaimed, tugging the box closer to his chest. 

“Yeah, well this cereal is for my girlfriend!” Santana snapped back, tugging it closer to her chest in return.

Finn furrowed his eyebrows, unsure of what to do next. He turned his head back to nameless hot guy, still clutching the box. “Wait, Kurt, do I have to give it to her because of like, gay rights?”

The boy—Kurt, apparently—pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. “You don’t have to, but you should so we can go the fuck home.”

“No,” Finn grunted. “This is a matter of pride now. I clearly had the box first. I’m not going to let Nu Beta Kappa just take anything they want. Again.”

Uh oh. Last semester, Omicron Sigma and Nu Beta Kappa had both been planning an end of the banquet for members and tried to get the same venue for the day after finals ended. Santana had been president at the time and finessed her way onto the Cherry Tea Tree room’s schedule. Clearly, certain members of Omicron Sigma took it personally.

“Well, all we wanted was equal rights some seventy odd years ago, so I think things even out!” Santana said.

“Lord Tubbington owes a lot of money and he needs the Count Chocula to cope,” Brittany said in a panic.

From across the aisle, Blaine saw Kurt’s cheeks redden at the spectacle and wondered if the heat rising to his own face was now visible. He loved his friends, but god, were they extra as hell. He and Kurt exchanged glances that were equal parts amusement and horror. 

“I’ll arm wrestle you for it,” Santana challenged. 

Finn burst out into uproarious laughter. “You’re like, half my height. I think I can take you.”

“Then come on,” she sniped. “Put your Count Chocula where your mouth is!”

Kurt’s jaw dropped and he looked over to Blaine, gesturing to Finn as if to say Can you believe them?

Blaine nodded along and raised his eyebrows as if to say, I know, right? He was glad to see his gesture gain a smile from Kurt. He would have stayed the rest of the time staring at Kurt if Santana and Finn’s match hadn’t been so distracting.

When Blaine looked back towards them, they had their elbows on the empty cereal shelf, hands fastened in a deadlock against the others.

Finn pressed his arm down against Santana’s. 

Three of the four of Finn’s fraternity brothers cheered him on behind him. Likewise, Quinn, Puck, and Brittany all egged Santana on. Their collective shouts of growing excitement was a stark contrast to the silence in the rest of the store. Blaine was honestly surprised a manager hadn’t come to usher them out yet. But, he supposed, it was a college town. There are weirder things that happen in a grocery store at three AM.

It seemed like Santana was about to lose, but she must have tapped into strength that came from repressed rage and in a quick surge, pinned Finn’s arm against the metal. 

He looked at her, aghast by the outcome of the match. 

“Oh thank god, can we go home now?” Kurt asked. 

“Absolutely not!” Rachel screeched. 

Kurt groaned and threw his head back in frustration before letting it fall against the cart. He lifted his head up and mouthed to Blaine, They’re insane.

Blaine let out a chuckle and pointed to his friends, who were now exchanging obnoxiously celebratory high-fives with their champion. I know, he mouthed back. Them, too.

The short brunette stepped forward and hiked up the long sleeve of her blouse. “Let’s go, Satan.”

“Rachel, there is no way you can take her,” Kurt mumbled. 

“Just watch me.”

“You’re on, hobbit,” Santana growled.

If the first match had been short, this one had gone by at lightning speed. Blaine actually flinched when Rachel’s arm slammed against the metal. 

“No fair!” She cried. “I just... wasn’t ready, that’s all!”

Blaine stifled a laugh and rolled his eyes, making sure that Kurt could see him. Kurt returned the smile and shook his head. “Come on, guys.” Kurt said. “She won fair and square.”

Rachel pouted and crossed her arms before turning away and heading off into the other direction. 

“You know what,” the girl with the beret said. “We’ll see you next week.”

“We look forward to it, Mercedes!” Quinn huffed. Blaine gave her a condescending glance before rolling his eyes and leading the way to the front of the store.

Try as he might, Blaine couldn’t get the goofy smile off his face every time he imagined the interaction he just had with Kurt. Yes, it hadn’t seemed like much, and they hadn’t even spoken a verbal word to each other, and yet Blaine still found himself wondering if he should try and find the Omicron Sigma group before they left to try and get Kurt’s number.

“Hey Blaine,” Puck said, snapping him back to reality. “The water bottles are right there,” he said, pointing to a nearby stack.

“Huh?”

“The water bottles,” Puck repeated, stone faced as if Blaine should know exactly what he meant. “To quench your thirst for porcelain back there.”

He scoffed. “Shut up,” he grumbled, feeling his face warm. Blaine eventually decided against going to find Kurt right now, knowing he’d never hear the end of it from his friends. 

If it was meant to be, they’d cross paths again.

XXX

Noah Puckerman invited you and six others to join the secret messenger chat: Operation Count Chocula

Santana: What the hell is this, Puck?

Rachel: Who put me in a group chat with the devil herself?

Quinn: I’m with them on this one. Explain yourself, Noah.

Finn: Why am I in a group chat filled with NBKs!?!?

Puck: Listen here cumslut, we don’t want to mingle with you just as much as you don’t want to mingle with us. But it’s time we set aside our differences for a greater purpose. 

Mercedes: What the hell is he talking about?

Puck: True love.

Quinn: Oh dear god what the fuck

Sam: Is this about how Kurt and Blaine are clearly in love?

Brittany: Yeah, I picked up on that, too.

Puck: Yes! They left without each other’s numbers.

Finn: And why should we help you?

Puck: You wouldn’t be helping *me* you’d be helping them.

Puck: Besides, if we don’t do this, then we’ll probably have to endure like weeks of them stalking each other on Facebook, running into each other on campus and being too shy to make a move and then one of them will get a boyfriend because they think the other isn’t interested and it’ll all go to shit just TRUST ME

Quinn: That was a very… thorough… explanation.

Satan: WHO CHANGED MY NICKNAME TO THIS?

Benz: Finn, change her name back.

Benz: Wait a hot damn second. 

RyanSeacrestFan101: Lay off, I got that tattoo when I was 18!

Bottle Blond: MY HAIR IS NATURAL

Disaster Hair: Hey, my mohawk is iconic!

Yentl: First off, I am honored to share a name that Barbra once used on the stage. Secondly, whoever’s doing this, KNOCK IT OFF

Finn: I changed Santana’s name… I’ll change it back

Santana: Oh, my bad. I changed Mercedes’s name because I thought she changed mine.

Mercedes: Oops… I changed Quinn’s. 

Quinn: Alright, I changed Sam’s. 

Sam: I got pucks…

Puck: And I plead the fifth.

Puck: Can we get back to business please?

Rachel: Sure… what did you have in mind?

XXX

One Week Later

Quinn: This the dumbest plan ever

Liked by everyone in the group

Sam: So dumb, it just might work

Liked by everyone in the group

XXX

Kurt was one aisle over when he heard his brother call out an all too familiar phrase.

“Oh no! It’s the last box of Count Chocula, and someone has grabbed it!”

He rolled his eyes and trudged to the next aisle down. His mood instantly became brighter when he saw the NBK sisters from last week, Blaine in their midsts. He smiled and waved, a gesture that Blaine happily returned.

“So…” Kurt started when nobody had said anything after a few moments. “Finn, are you going to arm wrestle her for it, or are you going to finally swallow your pride?”

“Well, uh, you and Blaine have to fight for it.” He sputtered out quickly.

“What!?” Blaine cries out from the other side of the aisle. “Why?”

“Because I can’t,” Santana said quickly. Blaine looked at her with confusion. It wasn’t like her to turn down a competition. She noticed his suspicion and added, “I uh, pulled my arm muscle.”

“Doing what?” Blaine asked.

She shrugged. “Brittany.”

“I shouldn’t have asked.”

“So in my place,” she continued, shoving Blaine forward. “I choose, our valiant Vice President, who is just always so willing to help a sister out.”

“Yeah!” Finn started awkwardly. “And-and I can’t do it because I have a… paper cut?”

“A paper cut?” Kurt asked, his suspicion rising. He folded his arms across his chest. “You got a paper cut?”

“It was cardstock.” Finn explained. “Besides, you’re my brother, I need you to have my back on this.”

Kurt gaped at him. “I cannot believe you pulled the brother card in something as stupid as this.”

Finn beamed and pushed Kurt towards Blaine. “You’ll thank me for this one day.”

“I highly doubt that.”

Kurt walked up and met Blaine. “They’re insane…” his judgemental expression softened into one of fondness. “I missed you, by the way.”

“I missed you, too.” Blaine returned his smile. “But right now, I’m representing NBK and I’ve kinda been chosen to smack you down like the hand of god.”

“Oh, really?” Kurt raised his eyebrows, and gave Blaine a crooked grin. “You’ll regret that. I was going to suggest we just fake a tie, but it’ll be a lot more fun just winning.”

“Do you really think you can take me?” Blaine asked cheekily, placing his arm on the metal shelf. 

“I’m stronger than I look,” Kurt teased back, clasping Blaine’s hand in his. “After all, I did have you pinned down in the back seat of my car for the better part of an hour.”

Blaine sputtered at the memory and he lost his concentration, causing Kurt to gain the lead in the match. He smiled slyly. This was going to be an easy match.

“That’s cheating!” Blaine cried.

“No,” Kurt said. “That’s using my assets.”

“I don’t need to be reminded of your assets they’re very memorable.”

“When can I see you again?” Kurt asked, relaxing his grip just a bit and feeling Blaine reciprocate.

“Is this not our second date?” Blaine teased. “Breadstix was nice, but three AM at a Walmart is just so much classier.”

“You should see my bedroom at three AM.”

“What?” Blaine lost his concentration and in his moment of distraction, Kurt pressed his arm all the way down to the metal.

“Pinned ya.” Kurt grinned, leaning in closer to Blaine.

Kurt’s eyes were magnets, drawing Blaine in closer and closer. “You, Kurt Hummel, can pin me anytime you want,” he giggled.

Puck cupped his hands together around his mouth like a megaphone. “Now kiss!” It wasn’t long before their friends resembled a small picket line, demanding that Kurt and Blaine lock lips by chanting Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! in a steady beat.

“Should we tell them about our date on Thursday?” Blaine asked. “And that it went really, really well?”

Kurt quirked an eyebrow. “And take all the fun out of it? Yeah, right.”

Blaine’s face split with a wide grin before Kurt fisted Blaine’s shirt and pulled them together, the two rival Greek organizations cheering them on in the background.

21st of Last Seed, Fredas

So Tel and I have been tracking a white guar for the last two days. We finally caught up to it this afternoon. Tel has been telling me about tracking and about how to properly catch a guar without harming it. We have been hurrying on guarback because, of course, hunters may already be tracking it as well.

A white guar is highly sought after, particularly on the mainland where they are so rare. So I could understand that the competition to find one might be fierce. So speed was obviously of the essence.

I spent a lot of time taking in all that Tel said about tracking for that reason. Sure, there was some... well, a bit, that I knew already. But I was still interested to gain any knowledge I could about the fact. Also, I was rather curious about how Tel teaches people, at least when not about things like religion or culture where they believe they have some sort of superiority about. In this case, it was quite refreshing. They are very patient and thorough in their explanations. I feel like many of the things Tel mentioned I can make use of in the future.  My experience with tracking is typically limited to cities and their immediate surroundings and mostly of people and their steeds.

I have hunted before, of course, but typically when I have done that it has been for any game we found, not for a particular animal. Lest it was a nuisance or posing a threat to people.

So it was nice to have the chance to spend time actually learning something new. Revitalizing, really.

And it paid off.

Tel said we were close. And we were quiet as we tracked the last few hours. Tel leading the way and motioning me forward or to wait as was necessary.

Then, as we came out on a green hill shaded by a scarce patch of towering mushrooms and old trees, a herd of guar was grazing leisurely. And as they moved about, the bright hide of a white guar, still a yearling at most, was seen.

There was something about seeing the animal among its herd. Usually you see them penned up around the sacred grounds of Temples. Occasionally you will come across one at a market. 

Still, in the wild it was different. It moved with an aura about it.

Tel was readying the lasso. I motioned for them not to. I mouthed that it should be free. Tel crept over to me. They explained that if we did not, some other hunters would take it to sell it. 

So I agreed. Though downhearted about it. It was still so young. It seemed a shame to remove it from its family.

 But Tel explained that still hunters would come to make it a prize for the Temple. Or worse, sell it for its hide. White guar leather would go for a lot based on its rarity alone. What could I do? How could I ensure it would be free to roam as it was meant to?

Tel suggested that we capture it and provide it a good life where it can be well taken care of. And what should I do? Let it have a brief life out in the wild before possibly suffering a poor fate, or gaurentee that it will be well looked after in captivity?

We talked about it. Tel tempted me with hand feeding and petting the guar. I continued to hesitate to agree. What luck it would be to touch a white guar. Not to mention feeding it.

I did not say anything before Tel moved back out, rope in hand once more. With careful, quiet movements, Tel approached slowly with sweetpulp in hand. I stayed very still, watching.

The guar approached slowly, but little wariness. As it came close, it gave a taste of the sweetpulp. Then began to happily devour the pulp. Tel took the time to slip the rope around its neck. Then Tel slowly started to lead it over towards me, using the rest of the sweetpulp as a lure.

They handed it to me and I let it lick the sticky pulp from my one hand as I stroked its snout with the other. To feel how gentle a thing it was, even out in the dangers of nature, I can see why it is so well revered. You could feel the power that it possesses.

Tel offhandedly asked if this was a sign we might soon have our souls returned. I sighed and said only that I hoped it was.

Tel suggested again that we take the guar to keep it safe.

I looked down at this gentle creature. I thought about what it was like for me to be held in a cage, albeit a gilded one. I could not do it. It deserved to be in the wild for as long as it possibly could.

I thought about trying to find a place to get the herd to run to where they might be safe. But hunters are persistent. They will track as long as they can.

Instead I asked Tel to help me disguise their tracks or direction of travel a bit. Just to give the herd that much more time together. To live free.

Perhaps it is foolish for us to have done it. Maybe I was condemning the poor thing to a worse fate. But I cannot take it from where it belongs. It should remain here, in the wilds, as long as it can. Let it enjoy that life as long as it can.

The Midwife

AO3 :: Previously

XIV

The Seine ran smoothly beneath the Pont Neuf. Jamie and I stood upon it, holding each other’s hands. I was still in my grubby work dress, a homespun cloak on my shoulders to ward off the chill. Jamie was much more handsomely attired, having been provided with a Fraser tartan kilt by his uncle.

Jamie’s uncle had apologized for not being able to procure a suitable dress for me to be wed in, on such short notice. He may not have approved of our hasty union, but he made clear that it had nothing to do with me personally. He had kissed my cheek and embraced me as his niece, and wished us every happiness. He was justifiably worried about our reception at Leoch as a married couple, now for my sake as much as Jamie’s. So with Jared as our witness, we exchanged vows.

“Mo nighean donn, repeat after me.” Jamie pulled a small sgian dubh from his sporran. He hesitated as he turned my arm to expose my wrist, but I nodded encouragingly. He made a small cut, and proceeded to slit his own skin open. Pressing our wrists together, Jared stepped forward to tie them with strip of linen.

Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone, I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One. I give ye my Spirit, 'til our Life shall be Done.

My heart pounded as I said the words that bound us as husband and wife. Jamie’s gaze upon me made me forget my heartache, all my worries and cares. Gently, he untied our wrists. He pulled the silver ring from my right hand and placed it on my left with a kiss on it. “I’m sorry we canna be wed in a church proper. I wanted to do better by ye,” Jamie said softly.

“I love you, James Fraser. That’s all that matters.” He smiled, and laid his hand on my waist, tugging me closer. The wind off the river was cold, whipping our hair across our faces.

“Sassenach.” His voice was guttural with need as he gripped me with restraint. We kissed, our lips cold but our mouths warm, until we forgot where we were. I finally pulled away from him, breathless.

“You’re mine,” I whispered, my arms around his broad shoulders. Our foreheads touched; we breathed each other’s air, oblivious to the world, until Jared cleared his throat and broke through our reverie.

“Jamie, it’s time.”

The three of us made our way back to Jared’s house in his coach. Jamie and I sat in silence next to each other, holding hands. He squeezed my hand gently as I gripped his arm tightly, nerves racing through me.

To make the handfasting valid, like any other marriage, it must be consummated.

I knew the mechanics, of course. Maman had been thorough in her explanations, and as a midwife, there was little I didn’t know about. But the difference between knowing and doing was vast, a chasm I hadn’t thought about crossing—until I met Jamie.

We arrived at Jared’s beautiful house on Rue Tremoulins; I was assisted out of the carriage by Jamie and ushered past a lineup of servants who were waiting for us. The house was just as lovely on the inside, rich with brocades and glinting carved wood. I held onto Jamie’s hand as we trailed up a curved staircase to the family rooms. Jared walked before us and led us to a room just off the dark hallway.

“James…”

“Uncle, dinna fash. ‘Twill be alright.” Jamie took the wavering candelabra Jared had used to light our path. With a pat on the shoulder, Jared went off, and Jamie stepped inside the room, gesturing for me to enter as well.

The flickering candles illuminated the fine furniture and tapestries on the walls. But what occupied my thoughts first and foremost was the large canopied bed. The room was cold, but Jamie set about lighting a fire in the grate. He was skilled with a flint, and soon flames danced merrily and cast a golden glow across our faces.

We had been completely silent, offering small smiles to each other. Now Jamie approached me, rubbing my arms through the cloak.

“Are ye warm enough, mo nighean donn?”

“I suppose.” My voice quivered, and I hated myself for it. This was Jamie, my husband, my love. I wanted him, wanted this, so much. He must have noticed how nervous I was because he pulled me closer in an embrace.

“What is it, Claire?” Jamie asked.

“’Tis only… I’ve never…” A blush crept up my neck.

“Och lass, if it helps, I’ve never… either.” Jamie gave me a sheepish smile and a similar flush tinted his cheeks.

“You haven’t?” After Maman’s explanations and what I knew of the nature of men, I hadn’t expected Jamie to have remained a virgin. He was after all, a very attractive male who could probably charm the very birds from the trees. To have him be as inexperienced as me, was a revelation.

“Truly, no. I suppose neither of us kens what we’re doing. I grew up on a farm, and I know of it, of course, but I expect between a woman and a man, ‘tis rather different, no?” Jamie ruffled up the back of his hair self-consciously.

“Aye, I ken,” I replied, imitating his soft Scots burr and making him laugh; some of the tension broke. A knock at the door interrupted us, and the butler who introduced himself as Magnus, laid a tray with supper on a small side table. He let himself out with a bow, and the door clicked shut behind him with a finality that cast a shiver up my back.

“Let’s have a bite, Sassenach. We’ll no be this well-fed on our travels to Scotland.”

Delicately braised meat and vegetables, along with one of Jared’s most superb wines, made up the meal. I managed no more than a few morsels, nerves making my stomach twist. As Jamie poured the last drops of the bottle, they returned in full force.

“Here, Sassenach.” He patted his knee and I slid over to sit on his lap, draining my glass. He put his arms about my waist, fingers tapping out a quiet beat on the whalebone of my stays. “’Tis easier when we touch, no?”

The crackling of the fire was the only sound in the room, except for our breathing. The staccato rhythm of Jamie’s fingers became a caress, and I tried to reciprocate, running my fingers through his red curls.

“I love your hair,” I said nonsensically, admiring the different hues of auburn and roan.

“And I love yours, lass. Like the water in a burn, the way it ruffles down the rocks…” he trailed off, his fingers now on the back of my neck. I leaned in and kissed him, tasting of the sweet wine we had shared.

Jamie returned the kiss enthusiastically, rising from the chair and setting me on my feet. I stood on my toes, striving to reach his mouth. He clasped me to him, hands bunching my dress and shift at my hips.

I broke away from Jamie, gasping for breath. “Perhaps we should go to bed.”

“To bed, or to sleep?” Jamie dropped the fabric of my clothes, also trying to control his breathing.

“Either way, I’m not likely to do it in this dress. Would you…” I placed his hands on my laces, and watched amused as he fumbled trying to untie them. He slipped the cord through the last eyelet, leaving me in my skirt and shift. I kicked off my shoes and stockings, and shimmied out of the skirt, and it lay puddled on the floor at my feet.

I had never been so undressed in front of a man before—and there was still my shift between us. Heat stained my cheeks, and I looked at my feet, embarrassed. Jamie lifted my face with a finger on my chin, and blue met amber.

“Fair’s fair, lass. Help me take off mine as well.”

The kilt and its belt slid down his legs, boots cast aside. Jamie’s shirt reached to mid-thigh, and I could not look away from the way the firelight burnished the curly hair on his thighs to pure gold. It was an odd sight, and although I had seen men completely naked as a healer, those had just been bodies that needed tending. Jamie’s body was a very different thing. Toned with muscle, lithe as a cat, brown in places and milk white in others…

“Before we—I think I should tell ye, the lashes ye healed, they… there are scars on my back.” His voice was shy and hesitant, and I reached out to touch his cheek in encouragement.

In one swift motion, Jamie pulled his shirt over his head. He stood bare before me, his eyes burning intensely. I didn’t dare look down, not quite yet. I trailed my fingertips over the raised bones of his collar, walking around him, touching the roped muscles of his shoulders. The marks on his back rose in ridges, still pink instead of the white of old wounds. Heat coursed through me in flashes of want and need.

Facing Jamie again, he reached over and took the ribbon that held my shift up. He waited until I nodded, and he undid the bow with a tug. The fabric loosened over my shoulders, slipping off. As the material pooled on my feet, I was seconds away from covering myself with my hands and turning away from Jamie, but he sensed it; he removed the pins from my hair so it fell in a mad riot framing my face.

“Ye are so beautiful.” His breathless reassurance made me smile, giving me much-needed confidence, and I stepped closer to him, enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. “I want ye so much I can scarcely breathe.”

“Have you never seen a naked woman before?”

“Yes, but no so close,” Jamie smiled, his eyes raking over me with a hunger matched by my own. “And no one that’s mine.” Hesitantly, he touched my breast, kneading it gently. It was as though I felt his touch somewhere lower, tingling; I reciprocated, his pectorals shifting.

Jamie kissed me, his tongue exploring my mouth. His hands roved all over my skin, leaving fire wherever they went. Finally, he lifted me off my feet, his lips still on mine. He laid me on the bed, where I scooted back until I reached the pillows. Jamie climbed onto the bed, sidling next to me. We lay skin to skin, all wandering caresses. Timidly, I touched below his navel, fingers hesitant. Jamie made a soft noise of encouragement (or possibly excitement) and I felt the tip of his member against my fingertips. I glanced, finally, committing all of his wondrous body to memory. His cock was silky smooth, and very warm. Emboldened by the sounds emanating from Jamie’s mouth, I grasped it fully in my hand.

Jamie showed me how to move my hand, up and down, sometimes twisting slowly. His frenzied pants in my ear, I could not have predicted how much I would enjoy making him feel this way. Eventually he gripped my hand and bade me stop.

“Sassenach, wait.” I immediately released him, pressing the lines of my body urgently against his.

“Now?” I asked, my arms around his back and attempting to pull him on top of me. I trembled at the thought of him inside me, joined like infinity.

“No, mo chridhe. Not yet.” Jamie removed my hands from his back and laid them next to my head, our fingers intertwining. He kissed me deeply, thoroughly, and slowly started making his way down my body. He paid attention to my neck, with small nips that elicited sounds I’d never made before. He sucked on my breasts, teasing and licking until my nipples stood out as big as cherries. He released my hands and I immediately tangled them in his curly mop of hair, and Jamie continued his downward trajectory, tickling my ribs until he stopped, grazing my hipbones with his tongue. I squirmed beneath him, my body demanding more with a fierce ache and pulsing between my legs.

“May I touch ye? Here?” Jamie’s fingers grazed the most intimate part of me. My legs seemed to part of their own accord; almost twenty years of propriety were no match for thousands of years of instinct. He slid a finger in slowly, and I could tell I was slick with arousal. He teased and nudged further inside. I heard a low keening sound and then realized it was coming from me.

I put both my hands over my mouth as my back bowed slightly off the bed. Jamie ceased his ministrations and gently pried my hands off my face. “No, Sassenach, I want to hear ye—every sound, every cry, is mine, do ye understand?” His lips on mine swallowed another moan as he parted my thighs further, settling between them. I could feel his hard, swollen member, straining at attention. I ventured another glance downward; I didn’t think that would fit in me.

“Jamie…” I felt his heart pound through his ribcage, beating in unison with mine.

“Tell me if I’m too rough,” he whispered, “or tell me to stop altogether, if ye wish.” He kissed me deeply as he pressed forward, with unerring aim and our bodies joined. I felt a stinging pressure as he advanced, an intruder of sorts that my body resisted. I willed myself to relax, even as Jamie held me close and I felt myself being stretched wide. There was a flash of brief pain and I couldn’t help but whimper a bit. Jamie immediately stopped and soothed me with gentle Gaelic words that I couldn’t understand.

After a moment or two, I pressed my hands to his back as a sign for him to continue, the scars ridged under my fingers. His hips met mine as he buried himself to the hilt, and slowly withdrew, before sliding in again, exquisitely and unhurriedly. I knew this was for my benefit; there was a hidden urgency to his motions, a power held in check, that I imagined would be unleashed once our bodies grew more comfortable with each other.

I met his eyes, and saw nothing in them but tenderness and joy. I trailed my fingernails up his flank, hoping to leave red lines to mark him as mine. Jamie responded by gripping my buttocks and changing the angle of penetration. In an instant I felt a flare of tingling pleasure, despite the discomfort, and again and again, a feeling that slowly increased and I began to understand what all the fuss about lovemaking was about.

“Sassenach… Claire…” Jamie called out my name between breaths. “I… dinna think… I can…”

“Don’t stop,” I said, gripping his backside and striving to get even closer. I felt Jamie shudder, his hips surging against mine as he spilled himself inside me. I watched his face, his eyes screwed shut and mouth agape, until it relaxed and his eyes opened, gazing into mine with love and wonder.

“I’m sorry, mo nighean donn.” He kissed my mouth over and over, our legs untangling as he withdrew. His warm hand lay across my stomach. “Bha mi a 'smaoineachadh gu robh mo chridhe a' dol a bhriseadh.”

“What is that?”

“I said, I thought my heart was going to burst.” Jamie’s hand caressed my face. “Was it alright for ye? Did I hurt ye?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me.” I was somewhat sore, but I supposed that was to be expected for our first time. It wasn’t entirely disagreeable; it was a reminder of what had transpired between us. We were now truly husband and wife.

“I’m sorry ye didn’t—I mean, that I didn’t… well, Sassenach, was it… pleasurable, for ye?”

“A little.” I planted a kiss on his long nose, and held him close. I could feel dampness between my legs, but was too lazy and comfortable to do anything about it. “We’ll just have to practice some more.” I tugged at the eiderdown comforter, wanting to get beneath the covers. After our exertions, the chill of the room had only dissipated slightly with the fire.

Jamie wrapped his arms around me, his body cocooning mine and radiating natural warmth like a small brazier. He brushed my hair aside, placing soft kisses on the nape of my neck. “Tomorrow, Sassenach, we’ll go to l’Hôpital des Anges. I shall speak to Mother Hildegarde, while ye gather yer belongings. I apologize, mo nighean donn, from taking ye away from yer life’s work.”

“I’ll still have it, James Fraser. Wherever you are, that’s were my life will be.” I had not thought I needed to hear it, but having him speak his regrets about upending our previous plans loosened something within, a modicum of peace and reassurance settling in my chest. “About Malva—”

“Dinna be afraid, there’s the two of us now.” Jamie curled his legs behind mine, fitting perfectly like two spoons nestled in a drawer. “I will not let her harm ye, and I live.”

I still worried though, about our imminent journey and how we should be received by his family in Scotland, and about leaving the life I knew behind. But before I realized it, I fell asleep in his arms, lulled by his Gaidhlig whispers and the knowledge that we belonged irrevocably to each other.

we're pack, moonchild.

Masterlist

Seokjin | Yoongi | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin | Taehyung | Jungkook

Summary: You know Min Yoongi is a werewolf. He has to be. [a drabble in which you go to the same school with the Bangtan gang and are tiring to figure out if that's what they really are. a gang? or a pack?] Word Count: +1,7k  Note: Yoongi. I love writing Yoongi. Makes me feel focused and introspective. This one has such a long "wolf part". idk why, Yoongi is special somehow. ✨

Gif not mine, credits to the owner.

You know Min Yoongi is a werewolf. He has to be. If he isn’t, this entire concept you’ve created about your school’s society (or more precisely, the Bangtan gang) is for the trashcan. Oh, and the faith in your own ability to judge. It’s not that there’s evidence stacking up against the quiet senior student, not officially at least, because not one teacher complains about him. Actually, it’s quite the opposite. They favor him. Maybe that’s due to the fact that Min Yoongi doesn’t disrupt the class with incessant and unnecessary chatter. To be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Min Yoongi “chat” in a vivid manner. Of course, in the presence of Jimin, but Jimin is an exception, with that magical ability (and laugh) to coax words out of people, but that’s always inside the safe confines of the Bangtan gang.

GBut even if you’re not sure about Kim Namjoon or the other boys within the gang, you’re sure about Min Yoongi. Living in the same neighborhood as you, just a few streets over, there’s been incidents you’ve heard of. Incidents as ominous as the word incident itself. As a child, there have been numerous times you’ve witnessed a growl, a baring of teeth, long canine teeth at that. Back then, it hadn’t mattered, you were a child with enough fantasy to spin some wild story out of this, but looking back you realize things for what they really were. Teenage years had brought new issues not only to you but also to him, as it seemed. People rumored about massacred bunnies and chickens, whispered about a hunter’s mysterious experiences one night in the local woods. Those weren't stories you would tie to the pale, stay-inside type of boy back then. Now, you’ve seen him run (even though it doesn't happen often, and if it does, he's probably going after a cheeky Taehyung), you've even seen him almost break a particularly nasty kid from his grade in half - hadn’t Jimin and Hoseok been there to stop him.

Even in school, the lazy attitude of Min Yoongi just hides the reality of a wolf shimmering underneath that milky skin. Or maybe it’s exactly the laziness that lets the wolf attributes show through. You’re not sure. You’re not even sure if others see it too. However, you spot the animal behind those eyes. In a blink, it tells a story about a burning rage that almost eats the boy up from the inside. In another, it shows you how gratefulness spreads through him as the younger gang members plus Seokjin gather around Yoongi (and as Jimin brazenly plops into his lap with a giggle). And whatever the rest of the school rumors and believes, you know the truth. You've seen the facts. (Additionally, you have witnessed an ab slip and there’s no one on this earth who can tell you 

But despite knowing this truth, your relationship with him happens from a distance. It’s quite different than with Jimin or Taehyung, or even Jungkook. From a distance you observe and from a distance, you draw conclusions. And while your friends babble about this or that, you take notice of how on some days, Yoongi’s head turns towards every sound, just very very slightly, but visibly if you pay a lot of attention. And then he groans, which in turn attracts Jimin’s attention, who puts his small gentle hands on the elder’s face and ears. Obviously, there’s some complaining involved when Yoongi grumbles, but it’s clear that the wolf is irritated by the hectic bustling of the students, by the enormity of the sound landscape inside the cafeteria. To prove your assumption that he must be a werewolf, Yoongi does bare his teeth a little but then his eyes rise, meeting yours and you quickly look away, heart pounding. Your friends don’t notice. You hope Yoongi doesn’t know what you’re doing.

Even though the Bangtan gang is rarely ever doing anything gang-like, you see how Min Yoongi could be genuinely scary. Not to you, not scary at least, because you’ve walked past (and stopped) the young man sitting in front of a white piano in the music rooms during breaks. His hands know chords that make you cry. But out of all the Bangtan boys, the rumors about gang fights and violence kind of fit best with his cool outward attitude. He’s a fighter, no doubt, always ready to defend the young ones under his wings. Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook seem to know it well, and still, annoying the elder is one of the first things that comes to their minds. Considering he wouldn’t mess up a hair on their heads - because he hasn’t - you figure that behind that scowling mask, there must be a sweet person.

There’s only one time you think he might come for you and your stupid nosiness and that’s when you’re standing by the school’s vending machine, watching him under the pretense of waiting for a friend. Since the morning bell, Yoongi has acted strange, not that anyone around you has really noticed. Yoongi has been hanging out with Namjoon instead of Hoseok and gripping Jimin’s hand tightly with a newfound record-worthy clinginess. At one point, Jimin shrieks and pulls away with shock in his eyes. There’s a drop of blood running over his hand that’s visible for a second before they cover it up. Still, you see it. It’s highly suspicious and worth a note in your Bangtan-related research.

Before you can even build theories and collect your previous assumptions to come up with a good explanation, Yoongi is gone. It’s a blink but Yoongi’s gone. And Namjoon and Jimin look more than worried. When your friend grabs her drink and talks to someone next to you, you can’t focus. So, when they leave, you stay. To wait and see what will happen next. What Namjoon and Jimin will do. And boy, does something happen next. It takes a breath to be pressed into the wall behind you, another to realize this is Yoongi with his forehead against yours. It’s all so sudden, such a pee-in-your-pants-moment that you can’t help but gasp, but let your heart pound and pound. Yoongi’s hands just grab your shoulders, and then there’s something he mumbles before leaving. You don’t understand it at first, but it comes back to you in a dream.

“The moon, pup. Next moon.”

It doesn’t make sense at all, just like this encounter that essentially has you be scared more in retrospective than it did in the present. Whatever issue Yoongi had that day, you hope he got it figured out. When you ask Jimin in a note, he draws a valerian flower and says, “Don’t worry about hyung. I hope he didn’t scare you. He's really embarrassed too.”

After that, your eyes meet Yoongi’s a couple of times in hallways and through the fence at the basketball court, but there’s never an indication that he wants to talk to you. He’s occupied with the younger ones and you’re occupied studying them.

As a wolf, Yoongi approaches you directly. He comes after Taehyung leaves and doesn’t waste a second before his snout travels over different parts of your body. Maybe it’s about safety, maybe it’s curiosity, but Yoongi is thorough. When he is done, there’s a second of eye contact, a nod from him, a lick at Namjoon’s muzzle, a lick at your mouth (a promise of protection), and then Yoongi leaves.

His presence is nice, a presence of safety and a thrumming of saved up strength. You learn later that he’s the packs’ primary speed dial contact.

When the pack welcomes you in their midst as the Alpha’s companion, it’s Yoongi who guides you through the process side by side with Jimin. It’s Yoongi who stays by yours as the younger wolves play in the dark. It’s Yoongi who licks Jimin clean after the younger one returns and presses him delicate body into the elders’. It’s Yoongi who ushers the other wolves together, who is granted the first howl to announce the Alpha.

The second Yoongi’s jaws close around your wrist for the pack bite, a blurriness creeps into your vision. The white wolf’s mouth is hot around your arm but all you can focus on are the movements in front of your eyes. You make the mistake of looking straight into Yoongi’s eyes. His intense gaze draws you in completely. It’s like looking into a laundry machine through the glass door. As everything gains momentum, colors, textures, even fabrics melt into each other.

The same kind of storm rages in Yoongi’s eyes. It spits out films worth of images that seem to be memories from Yoongi’s point of view - a heaving scene with puffs of winter breath in front of your eyes, a dead deer bleeding away under your nose, the warm and iron-y smell of blood dancing around you while the animal’s heart slows audibly, then trees that pass, nights of warmth, nights of icy cold darkness, finally other wolves, a pack, a boy - Jungkook - who goes through the first shift with tears of unimaginable pain, a young wolf who runs in freedom for the first time, who pants against Jimin’s flank later. It’s all there, you see it all through Yoongi’s eyes, how the family grows, how he secures the borders.

And then you realize. Yoongi is a beta. The Pack’s protector, the first-rank warrior.

And with the fall of a shooting star, there’s a rising of new wonder inside of you. It comes with the realization that Yoongi was born this way, alone for such a long time, alone with that burning rage you’d seen a couple times. Uncontrollable it had been, but with a pack of seven, the intensity of that loneliness and pain divides into seven parts, leaving behind a tiny burden to carry.

When you finally look up from where you had fallen to your knees as Yoongi's visions overwhelmed you, you find his soft gaze. He's a precious friend, loyal to the end, worthy of keeping. His cheek feels warm next to yours, his tongue like a welcoming kiss on your neck. “I’m looking forward to teaching you everything, pup,” he says.

Thanks for reading! :)

Masterlist | moodboard masterlist

taglist: @xmagicxshopx, @jiminnies-baby, @inappropriatepirate, @dope-boss

Seokjin | Yoongi | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin | Taehyung | Jungkook

🏰⚔️ DMODT- 19.... sooooo is this ok? Honest feedback plez

Seated next to Levi, Eren was waiting for Historia to begin her explanation. On his other side, Erwin was gripping the arm of the sofa so hard, that Eren was surprised it hadn't broken. Despite knowing Levi wouldn't hurt him, Erwin's actions had been what he'd expected from Levi over his newly formed scales. Since meeting the Draecia pair, and their dragons, he'd felt so incredibly nervous that his stomach was rolling rather ominously... and this silence wasn't helping anything. He didn't care if Historia needed to pick her words, he just wanted some for of answer about what he was. His distress was slowly rising to panic, and while Levi's scent was warm and calming, Erwin's angry scent left him waiting to be thrown down on the floor. The silence between the seven of them wasn't broke until two of the maids came up with the smart cart from the kitchen. On it was two teapots, several cups and an apple pie that smelt divine. Serving them, the maids left when they were done. Erwin finally breaking the silence as the man reached for his cup of tea "I assure you it isn't poisoned" Historia nodded brightly "I know. I can smell traces of poison. I'm sorry, I was just lost in my own mind. Eren, can you tell me about your childhood? When did you first discover your magic?" The mage didn't like being the centre of attention, even if he'd warmed up to Historia. Nervously, his thigh rubbed against Levi's as he sat straighter, he desperately wanted to sink into Levi's side, but didn't want to do anything that may be considered an insult. The alpha not shying away as he placed his hand on Eren's knee, Eren feeling a small amount of courage start to swell at the touch. Levi hadn't deserted him, even though he was less than human by the looks of it. As if reading his mind, Levi smiled softly at him "It's alright. No matter what you say, we won't judge you" Levi might not, but Erwin would... still, the two princesses had travelled so far to be there, so needed to be open and honest "It was rather normal. I lived with my father, Grisha Yeager, and my mother, Carla Yeager. When I was about 7, we adopted Mikasa Ackerman after the death of her parents at the hands of bandits. I was ten when I first noticed my magic. It was small sparks of fire around my hands and fingers. I had no control over it, so I'd wear gloves. My mother died when Marley invaded Eldia from the south, and my father went missing soon after that. Mikasa, and our friend Armin, both found places here, within the castles, while I lived on the streets for the next two years. While living on the streets, I developed a life threatening infection in my lungs. I was starving, and riddled with infected and weeping bug bites and bruises. The winter of my 12 year had been particularly brutal. The streets were clogged with rain and rubbish, and I knew I was dying. I was simply too sick, each time I coughed there was blood and pus. It'd been raining, and I wanted somewhere dry to... to die. I wanted to be with my family when I did, but I was so weak I collapsed in the stables, and so scared of what they'd say... so I decided I just wanted to be near them. It was there that Prince Erwin found me. I was so sick that my first heat hit, aged 12. The castle healers healed me the best they could, the I spent 5 years in an omega sanctuary, until returning here to vow myself to the kingdom around 4 months ago" Historia nodded, leaving in to take her teacup into her hold "And you couldn't control your magic all before your heat?" "No. It was simply sparks, after my first heat... well... I have no idea how it happened, but it had a mind of its own. I'd levitate, cast wind, fire and storms, all before my vows were taken. The sanctuary guardians had never seen such a problem child" "And after your heat, and your vows?" "I couldn't practice and learn as my master didn't have the time to train me. I read the books, but my magic wouldn't work. It wasn't until we both suffered effects from it, that he stepped into his role. Since then, I've had a lot more control" "Except for his last heat. He cast a storm that lasted for days, and winds that broke every window in the castle" Historia pursed her lips, pausing as she raised the cup towards her lips. Ymir glaring at Erwin, as she wrapped an arm around Historia's shoulders "These questions are directed to Eren, not to you. Please do not interrupt her royal highness when we are here about your kingdom's mage" Ymir he liked. Eren decided that right there and then "Levi is right. I attempted to spend my heat alone, and lost complete control of my magic, with no memory of what happened. I was fevered and delirious, which didn't ease until my master came for me" "And you and your master have suffered symptoms? Can you explain?" "The first time was that he coughed up a dragon scale. The second time, I coughed up a stem of belladonna. The third time he coughed up paper. Also, when I was injured, the marks appeared on him. He felt my pain, and pain bled for me" "Have you had times when extreme power welled inside of you?" Eren's heart sank "Y-yes. I try to keep it under control, but it's affected by mood. I was travelling with a court scientist when we were attacked to bandits. I don't know how it occurred, but I turned them to stone" Historia sipped her tea, the smile never leaving her lips "What else have you done?" "He's filled rooms with white roses and petals. Caused the largest apple tree ever seen to appear in the castle courtyard. Grown the field of roses you landed on. Reconfigured castle hallways..." "Levi. That's enough. Eren can speak for himself" Erwin sounded like a child anxious to dob a sibling in for their bad behaviour. Eren nodded, feeling a braver as he pushed closer to Levi and having Levi allowed it "I've also cast fire from air, then used the iron in my blood and in the air to produce a sword, which I turned into a crown. I've filled rooms with rain and snow, and I've been practicing summoning winds in defence. They're hard, and usually slice my arms up, but I think I'm getting there" "Your powers are excellent. Just what we'd expect of a storm dragon" A what now? He couldn't be a dragon... he was human... "There's no need to look so confused. Like Ymir, you are a storm dragon. It's not overly rare, I mean, no. No, new dragons have been born to the Paradis island population in generations, but as you must know, Marley, Draecia and Eldia all used to be a combined empire. Storm dragons are the rarest of all, as they are generally born weak. This is why your lungs won't heal, despite your magic" "I'm not a dragon" Historia giggled "Yes, you are. Your flames came young, but they came. And though I can't say how far back it was, there was a rider or original dragon in your bloodline. You have also inherited magic from one of your parents" "I'm... not a dragon" Historia's smile widened further "You may repeat that as many times as you like, but you are. You're also being limited in this castle. Your true magic suppressed by your Eldia magic user side. If you stay here, your powers will grow, but you'll never be able to use them to your full potential. And without training to control your dragon magic, you will die" Now her smile disappeared, her face becoming firm. Eren blinked a few times in disbelief "I'll die?" "Yes. Dragon magic is old and absolute. It's also incredibly dangerous to its wielder without proper and thorough training" He didn't want to die. He didn't want to do that to Levi... Yes, he'd been preparing to find a way to leave the man so he could wed Petra, but if he died, Levi would be hurt and blame himself "But... I have a master" "Yes, the Prince. And while he helps to channel your magic flow, you will need proper training" "How can you know all of this?" Historia sighed "I know a great many things. Like the truth that the three of you carry. I have no wish to cause a scene, but as Eren is part dragon, he falls under international laws governing dragons. It is also for his own protection that we request he comes with us" "But my bond. He's my master" "Eren, he's more than that. As a youth, he saved your life and imprinted on you. The lingering affections you feel, is because you chose him to be your rider, with no idea you'd done so. I assure you, time apart will be painful, but it is far better than being taken and cut to pieces for your body parts. Even with the small levels of dragon blood in your veins, you're still valuable to the wrong people. I do not wish to scare you, but you need to be prepared" Eren felt himself growing tearing. Wiping his cheeks, he shook his head to deny it all "I'm just an omega..." Pulling him close to him, Levi rubbed his arm "You're lot just an omega. Is he truly in danger?" "Yes. Recently more and more of our kind are being wounded. Now Marley has started moving, there is a threat on that front" "I thought you guys didn't like war?" "We don't. We honour ways and traditions of accepting all those of dragon blood" Why did he have to be part dragon? It made no sense to him. He was just a mage with a major problem "I think you've scared him, Historia" Eren didn't know if he liked Ymir now that she pointed out something that didn't need to be said, though he did like the fact she didn't seem to have a filter on her mouth. It was a lot to take in. Like everything else over the last week had been, and he knew he was being childish over it. He did like the woman. He felt something warm from her, and a familiarity though they'd never met "Can I have some time to think?" "Of course you can. We wouldn't dream of tearing you from your home without talking. Besides, if you came with us, we wouldn't expect you to do so alone. The prince cannot join us, but perhaps you can think of someone else who would ease your loneliness?" "Eren isn't going anywhere without me" Sighing, Eren wished that was true, turning back to the alpha he placed his hand on Levi's "You cannot give up your kingdom. Marley would see it as you siding with Draecia without them" "I don't care" How selfish could Levi be?! Again, he knew he was blowing it out of proportion, but he'd seen so much messed up shit on the streets. Eldia couldn't survive another war "Well I do! God. It's the Petra argument all over again. You have to consider all aspects of this" Behind him, Erwin grabbed his shoulder "Eren. Know your place" Erwin could fuck off. Actually. Everyone could. Apart from Historia. He didn't care about protocol and not insulting anyone anymore. He'd come to the castle to be with Armin and Mikasa, ended up falling for the public prince, who was to be wed, and now he had to leave his home, all while dealing with coming out of his heat "Princess Historia, may we speak in private? I have a few more questions" Historia took the out, smiling again "I would be delighted to" Climbing to his feet, Levi grabbed his hands. The man staring up at him, his eyes filled with pain and a silent plea to stay "I need to converse with Historia. I cannot make an informed decision until I do. Perhaps you can take this time to fill Princess Freya and her dragon in on the incident with Prince Zeke and the dragon egg? Would that be alright?" Freya clicked her fingers, and Eren's eyes widened in shock as the fossilised egg appeared in her lap. That was so fucking cool! He'd never heard of a spell that could be done mentally and have such instantaneous results "I would say that is a yes. Shall we walk as we talk?" Not wanting to force Historia to be alone or uncomfortable, Eren gestured to Ymir "I would like that. Ymir, will you be joining us?" "No. Ymir will be remaining here. I am sure you have some rather personal questions to ask, such as about your heat and a dragon's pregnancy?" Eren's face paled. His herbs were for human omegas... which he wasn't. Maybe Levi should be there? If they were going to discuss pregnancy "Relax, you are not with child. Dragon pregnancies last for two years, and given your human nature, and pure blooded human partner, the birth would be if a child rather than an egg" The dragon egg was huge. His arse clenching at the thought of hours spent in labours to birth something so large. Maybe if they were smaller? Shaking his head, he hurried around the side of the coffee table. And two years?! And how many children would he carry? And if it was eggs, how many eggs? He could probably carry a fair few, but how would he explain that to Levi? Birthing a whole clutch in the alpha's bed seemed a bit extreme, though also appealing. God. No. He didn't want to birth eggs out his arsehole like he was some kind of chicken... This was a conversation liable to send both he and Levi into a meltdown "Yes. Well. We can discuss this as we walk" * Eren felt as if his head was going to explode from everything he'd learned during his talk with Historia. Historia couldn't explain everything to him, as he hadn't agreed to leave, but he was strongly swayed toward accepting her offer. The magic the princess could do was beautiful. Their walk had lead them back out to the rose field for privacy, Historia impressed over the field, while Eren wasn't as much. He didn't know how to remove the roses, without rising ruining the training field. Historia did. Before his eyes, the plants slowly "ungrowing", or "growing in reverse". He wasn't sure what to call it, but bit by bit, they sank back into the soil, leaving behind a dusting of rose petals across the field. Raising her hands, Historia called up a wind, the petals swirling into the middle of them, before coming together to form a small white dragon, then rushing up and disappearing into the clouds. He had no words for how dainty and light her magic seemed to be, and it felt so warm and calming that he wanted to throw his arms around her. Laughing happily at the look of amazement on his face, Historia suggested they cast while they talked. From their mid-morning meeting, until late afternoon, the pair of them discussed their magic. Historia taking the time to walk him through spells the Draecian way, with him echoing it back to her in what he understood of the Eldian way. To have someone who practiced magic and wanted to discuss things with him was exciting, he wasn't just casting what Hanji wanted him to try. He wasn't fumbling in the dark. He wasn't being snubbed by other castle mages and their masters. He'd thought it would be like the sanctuary, with the mages of the castles learning together, but they seemed to do their own thing, which he was on the outside of. He'd learned well enough on the streets when he wasn't wanted. Fetched by Erwin for dinner, the three of them had returned to the castle in silence. Eren growing more and more nervous as he found himself nearing Levi. Just thinking of the alpha sent his thoughts scattering and his heart racing, leaving him wavering over leaving. He'd thrown Levi's life into chaos, and now he was preparing to leave him behind... How cruel could he be? By the time they reached the dining room, Eren was ready to run. Erwin strode into the room ahead of them, Historia following while the mage was struck by the woman at the table he didn't know by face, but knew by smell, and hence by name. Petra. Seated to the left of what was Erwin's seat, the woman's eyes were firmly on Levi. All it took was that instant for the omega to know, Petra had her eye on Levi. The woman had feelings for his lover, and he didn't like it one bit. With shaky steps, he moved to take his seat between Historia and Levi, a seat he didn't feel he had to right to take, given he wasn't royalty. Waiting until he was seated, Levi gave a small smile that matched his worried scent "How was your talk?" Historia nudged him with her elbow, Eren wishing she'd answer instead, but that wasn't happening "Informative. Princess Historia's magic is simply incredible" "And Princess Historia, how is our mage? Does he meet your standards?" "Well and truly. Eren's magic may have an Eldian twist, but it's strong and I believe he'll make an exceptionally talented caster" Eren shook his head "Your magic is so light, I've never felt anything as warm and accepting as it is" "That's because you're yet to learn yours completely. We would very much like to take him with us" Levi's smile slipped "Eren and I will need to discuss this" "Of course. I wouldn't remove him from your court, and side, without doing so" Historia had no idea she'd misspoken in front of Petra. With Erwin's command in place, he hadn't been able to fully explain the situation in his own words. All she knew was what she'd seen in her mind, and that he was under command not to speak of it. Looking to her sister, Freya sighed at her "The egg?" "You read my mind" "It's dead. It contains no sparks of life, and very little magical residue, but we'll be taking it with us. It's from the clutch of Obsydin. Most likely taken before he was slain, soon after it was birthed. It had no time to absorb his powers or life force. Thankfully it won't be hatching" Eren had never thought a dragon rider would be happy over an egg that'd never hatch. Looking to Historia, she patted his arm "It's for the best. He... he was a dragon who lost his way. Though this was about 300 years ago, before Marley, Eldia and Draecia went their seperate way. It was the royal family who managed to slay him with a sword through his heart. Everything made of him was burned into nothingness, including his clutch and kin, his sins so great. They say the last thing he did was curse the whole world, but you can't have a good story for the generations without a curse or two" "I've read something about something similar to that. In it, the knight was a smithy. He'd been drafted and found himself in a situation he wasn't prepared for, managing to slay a great black dragon that shook the world and blackened the sky, with a cheap shot to the heart by sacrificing his men. It said he became the first "Smith", using the name to never forget his humble beginnings" Historia giggled lightly "I think your story has been given some embellishments, but I wouldn't be surprised. Royal history is all about making themselves look good" Levi sighed as he raised his fresh cup of tea, the maids going about serving them, while Eren was hoping he wasn't coming across as an idiot to Freya and her dragon "I quite agree. I'm sure Eren will be able to show the book with the tale inside. He's quite well read" "That would be excellent. Though we do not intend to impose for long. One or two more days. I'm sure you must understand that there are things we have to attend to" "Yes, unfortunately our work is never done" "That is very true. If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask the guards at your rooms, or the maids. You have come such a long way, the least we can do is make sure you are comfortable" "Thank you. I'm sure we shall" Dinner was mostly conversation back and forth between Erwin and the Princesses. Ymir providing the occasional snark at the man, and Levi joining in when talked to. Beneath the table, Levi had engaged the teen in a game of footsies, which Eren was trying hard not to let show. It wasn't exactly easy then Levi's boot would slip sometimes and the man would temporarily lose, leaving Eren feeling like laughing, despite the angry looks that Petra kept sending his way. Levi had already noticed the silent exchange, that's what had led to their childish game. When dinner wound up, they retired for the night. Historia and Freya were both tired, and being the polite person he was, Levi insisted on showing them to their room, with Erwin by their side. Only he and Petra were left behind, and Eren didn't really want to end up yelled at. Yet, he wasn't fast enough. Turning to walk towards Levi's room, Petra sidestepped around him, forcing him to stop. Glaring up at him, Eren wondered how the woman would feel is he picked her up and moved her aside "What is your relationship to the prince?" "I'm sorry... I don't believe we have formally met. I'm Eren, a court mage" Extending his hand, it was ignored "I'm Petra, the prince's fiancé" "It's nice to meet you" "Don't give me that. You're sleeping with the prince and that will stop" "Excuse me?" "You've come from nothing. Don't think that it hasn't been noticed how you've wormed your way into the good graces of Prince Erwin" "I..." "You're a dirty whore. Prince Zeke informed me of how you've been trying seduced the prince with your magic. It is by royal decree that I shall be marrying Prince Erwin" Eren wanted to laugh, but he was also slightly scared of the woman. She may look soft and petite, but the sword on her hip wasn't "That's not what Prince Erwin has said" There was an almighty slap across his face "You will not ruin this for me! I have loved him for years, and I will not have a gold stealing whore ruining everything" "I'm sorry, but you have no idea what you're on about" "I demand you leave him alone" "Oh, you don't have to worry about that, you nasty bitch. The prince has voiced out loud that he has no intention of ever loving or marrying you. Even if I am leaving, that doesn't open him up to you. He is his own person. He deserves to find love for himself. You need to realise he doesn't want to marry you" "How dare you! When I'm princess..." "How dare me? You literally only just met me, yet you are hurling abuse at me without knowing anything. You went out of your way, to stake a claim on a man that's above both of us. Now, I am retiring to my quarters. I would strongly suggest you do the same, lest you hear something you don't wish to" If he was leaving Levi, he wanted to have one more night with him, because once he left, he didn't know if he could return. And more importantly, what would be between them when he did. * Levi wasn't at his quarters when Eren reached them. Letting himself in, he stripped and showered before waiting on Levi's bed. The moment the door opened, the teen rushed to alpha, pulling him into the room as Levi kicked the door closed, their lips already against each other as Eren drew Levi to bed. Pushing him down, Levi's smile was soft and genuine "Did you miss me?" "You have no idea" Eyeing Eren's already hard dick, Levi raised an eyebrow "I think I have some" "It's your fault. Do you know how hard it was to behave at dinner? Each touch went straight to my dick" "Well then. I must take responsibilities for my actions. Show me how much you want me as I strip" Spreading his legs, Eren moaned as he slowly fucked himself with his fingers. He shouldn't need Levi as much as he did, but having his master between his legs was all he wanted. When Levi finally climbed into bed, the alpha's lips went straight to his neck "So beautiful... you have no idea" Wrapping his legs around Levi, Levi moved to slowly sheath himself in Eren's heat, both moaning at the sensation "Fuck... Eren... you're perfect" Laughing, Eren took Levi's face in his hands, sitting up to kiss the alpha happily. Rolling his hips forward, Eren let out a groan, breaking the kiss "Less talking, more moving" "So demanding, my little dragon" "Mmm... you're my rider, so ride me" Levi let out a laugh, grabbing him by the hips and pulling him up "As you wish" The sex was soft and warm, Levi always placing his comfort before his own. His touches infuriatingly loving and caring, when all Eren wanted to be was fucked. They had the rest of the night to enjoy each other's bodies. Growling at how slow the alpha was going, Levi stopped completely "What?! Don't stop" "Don't growl" "Don't tease me. I won't break" "I know you won't, but maybe I want to savour every moment with you" "Then savour it faster... or lay down and let me fuck myself" "You're so impatient..." Levi slowly pulled out, before pushing back in hard. Eren letting out a strangled cry. Stupid tears welled in his eyes "Brat?" "Please, master... I don't know how much longer I can stay by your side... I want to feel you..." "Hey... if you think I'm letting you, you're sorely wrong" "I'm a dragon" "And I'm in love with you. These are just facts of life. My affections aren't going to vanish so easily" "Really?" "Yes, now let me love you" "I don't want to hurt you" "I could see it on your face when you returned. How happy you felt... I'm a selfish prince. I won't let you die" Unwrapping Eren's legs, Levi took him by the thighs and spread them wide as he peppered kisses near his knees. The man taking his time to fuck him slowly into a weeping mess. When Levi knotted him, the alpha pulled him up into his lap, Eren nuzzling into Levi's neck as he tried to remember what breathing was "I had feelings and affections for you, before you discovered you were part dragon. That hasn't changed. And I hope as you complete your training, you'll remember me fondly" "Remember you? I'm going to write every day, I can... I don't want to be in love with you. I wanted to seperate from you, without hurting you. But I can't..." "We're bonded. You're my dragon, and I'm your rider" "You're not mad?" "How could I be? The affections of such a beautiful omega, who happens to be part dragon. And cares so deeply for those Eldia have failed. I'm a lucky man. I just wish we didn't have to hide" "Historia knows. I didn't talk about it" Levi kissed his neck, nodding softly as his thumbs massaged Eren's hip bones. He could smell a second round starting, despite Levi still knotted and coming "I figured as much. Don't let it worry you" "But it does. So much. I don't want Eldia to fall into war. I don't want the people to suffer, or you to be held accountable" "Hey. We'll figure something out. We always do" "Petra knows" Levi pulled back, his thumbs digging into Eren's hips "She what?" "Historia misspoke. Petra knows. She... she loves you" "I don't love her" "She won't let you go so easily" "Then I'll tell her over and over until she understands" "Maybe... maybe there's something going on with her?" "It doesn't matter. I don't love her" "But you'll talk to her? I mean, probably not alone, she's desperate... I feel like something is going on with her" "Petra is a professional" "But..." "Eren, I'm tired of talking about her, when I'm in you" Eren snorted, moving to kiss his master. Levi was right. He was talking too much "I'm sorry. There's just so..." "You're about to start again. Stop it" "Make me" Hefting him up, Eren screeched and clung to Levi "What are you doing?" "Taking you to the shower and fucking you there. Then against the bathroom counter, and maybe on the floor... I'm not letting you forget my touch so soon" "I feel like we didn't just spend five days in bed together" "It's not enough. Before you, I'd never had sex. I was so nervous I wouldn't be any good, but you make me feel amazing" Staring down at Levi, the man's eyes were filled with too much love for him "You're the only one I've slept with... the only one I want to. Even if... even if you have to marry Petra and have children..." "You're getting stuck in your head again" "Then give me a night I can be stuck in forever. Each night's going to be long and lonely without you" "Don't worry, little omega. I'll light a fire in you that never goes out"

            WROW  I’m finally gonna write down Tsubaki’s P5 verse !

            Tsubaki Yayoi is seventeen, and she attends Kosei High School; she’s an art student, a prominent member of the student council, and comes from an incredibly prestigious family among the political elite. She’s calm, intelligent, modest, and above all incredibly compassionate; although she studies art and sings in her spare time, she has every intention of helping better the lives of others when she graduates. It is because of her unwavering belief in justice, due process, and law and order that she grows to despise the Phantom Thieves and their rise to fame. It isn’t that she’s jealous of their success, or that she disapproves of their motives --- but she cannot oblige the fact that they deem themselves above the law.

            Unflinchingly traditional, the Yayoi family often practices in arranged marriages --- and although it’s never been confirmed, rumors have circulated for years that the majority of those marriages are kept within the family. Throughout the game, she also comes to learn that her family’s practices aren’t as upright and honest as they (as well as the bribed tabloids) claim; exploitation, bribery, and blackmail have all been kept under wraps by carefully-worded legal arrangements and money under quite a few tables. This revelation combined with mentions of a potential ‘arrangement’ for Tsubaki in the near future lead her to seek the help of the very people she condemned: the Phantom Thieves. Coming to the conclusion that there was no use seeking assistance within the justice system --- a prominent Yayoi domain that still bears signs of their influence --- and growing more desperate by the week, she submits a name to the Aficionado Website: that of the current Yayoi family head, her own father. 

            The Thieves must first investigate in Mementos, and upon doing so, they discover it’s already become a full-fledged Palace. As she submitted the request anonymously, they have no way of knowing she would willingly cooperate --- so once Yusuke informs them she attends the same school, they set about tailing her to see if they can acquire more information about her family. Tsubaki catches on rather quickly, and upon realizing their true identities, agrees to assist them. During a thorough search of the Yayoi family home, the correct keywords to enter her father’s Palace are accidentally spoken --- thus, she finds herself dragged in with them. She had been quietly festering and seething inside ever since she first stumbled upon some of her family’s illicit dealings, and to see the Palace with her own eyes --- a mixture of old and new, sprawling grounds with seemingly endless hallways, several traditional Japanese mansions juxtaposed much like the Yayoi’s ancient traditions and modern vices... Tsubaki refuses to leave without seeing it for herself, and retreats further inside when the Thieves insist otherwise. As they attempt to give chase, they encounter several clues that detail more of her life: headstones that detail at least eight siblings, none of which made it past their first year --- all born before Tsubaki; a sprawling family tree, written in elegant hand with ink on a traditional canvas, whose branches’ names overlap repeatedly with one another; a cognitive version of a younger Tsubaki that seems to represent an angel, bathed in light, surrounded by her household; cognitive versions of those the family have exploited and cheated over the years --- young and old, business and pleasure, workers and business partners and enemies alike. 

            They eventually catch up to the real Tsubaki, on her knees before the cognition of her father that reigns over the Palace. Dressed in traditional garb, he informs her that everything the Yayoi family has done has had a ‘noble’ purpose: to further the survival of their bloodline. Decades prior, a family head realized that the deciding factor in many political stations was a combination of incredible intelligence and charisma; thus, all marriages sought to foster these qualities... Until ultimately the only candidates deemed suitable were those within their own bloodline. When Tsubaki was born, it was deemed a miracle --- especially that she was born so strong, physically and mentally, and carried the best traits of a Yayoi. To further her excellence, to maintain the family’s sterling reputation, to keep their ‘breeding’ practices away from public view... Every not-so-noble act was motivated by these ‘noble’ needs. It’s at this point that she breaks down, forced to call everything into question; not only has she fully processed that everything she knew and held dear --- every facet of morality she’d clung to and upheld --- was a lie, but she was also led to believe her very birth was the biggest catalyst. With the help of the Thieves, however, she comes to the conclusion that none of it was her fault; she was only an excuse to justify the means as well as the ends. It’s with this revelation, and the promise to  SEEK OUT AND UPHOLD HER OWN JUSTICE  , that she awakens her persona:  BRYNHILDR . Tsubaki’s outfit resembles her  canon outfit  when releasing Zero Type: Izayoi; her persona has a similar motif, resembling a typical valkyrie and wielding the same sword. Because of the wings, angelic appearance, and her exasperated explanation of who Brynhildr was, her codename becomes  VALKYRIE  . Her secondary weapons are dual handguns. Her persona deals both Bless and Curse damage, but is still weak to the latter. 

            Upon defeating her father, she admits that she’s aware --- and dreads --- the full truth of her family will come to light, her birth included. She resolves to face it with her head held high, though, for the sake of all the people her family has hurt. Much of her confidant deals with her attempt to protect and perpetuate her own justice, as she declared she would upon her awakening. This includes personally seeing to it that injured parties get proper reparations; making amends with her father while he’s incarcerated; assisting however she can in the ongoing investigation into her family, the legitimacy of their assets, and so forth. Halfway through her confidant, she admits to the protagonist that there’s been a significant amount of pressure from the student body as well as concerned parents for her to not only resign from the student council, but in some cases be expelled ‘out of basic principle’. Tsubaki also admits that she was aware of her family’s marriage practices all along, as well as the circumstances of her birth; she believes in part that perhaps she should comply with the school’s demands, considering herself complicit in that regard. Ultimately, however, the protagonist convinces her that she needs to fight --- for the sake of truth and justice, no less --- and at the very least see to it that she’s heard. Her passion, sincerity, and articulation see to it that at least the majority of her peers are swayed; although she mentions she still has to deal with jeers here and there, she is allowed to stay enrolled and on the student council. She also thanks the protagonist for instilling courage in her when she needed it the most. She acknowledges that her future career goals --- be it the military, the justice system, or politics --- would be hindered greatly by her family’s scandal, but that she has no intention of laying down and taking it. 

            Some additional tidbits:

Tsubaki’s confidant deals with art, but also has numerous motifs with flowers: if the protagonist works at the flower shop, she will occasionally be waiting there and will explain flower language to him throughout different points in the game. the gift she gives the protagonist upon maxing out her confidant is a painting she made of a camellia flower --- a play on her name that also translates to ‘longing’ and ‘waiting’ in flower language. if the confidant is a romantic one, on christma/s she will admit that she’s taken the liberty of hanging her gift in the attic: a painting of edelweiss (to encourage him he does have power and should always have courage), hibiscus (to remind him to be gentle, always), and a third flower that’s a little more difficult to place but resembles angel’s wings. she will inform him that it’s referred to as habenaria radiata (sagisō in japanese), or the white egret flower. it means, according to her, ‘my thoughts will follow you into your dreams’. she intended it to convey her feelings in a lasting, sincere manner, having no idea how poignant they’d be considering where he’d soon be going...

she loves historical dramas --- be it plays, movies, or literature. taking her to see a period movie, buying her appropriate merchandise or reading material, it’ll all please her immensely and she’ll chatter on excitedly about them for hours. 

in idles whenever they meet as a group in the protagonist’s attic, she’s often either reading a book, adjusting something into its proper place, or wiping her finger along a shelf as if inspecting for dust. 

in one conversation randomly activated between confidant conversations, Tsubaki admits that she often watched Yusuke intensely as they were in the same art class and his work always caught her attention. she also remarks that since he’s been spending time with the protagonist, he hesitates less and has a ‘better energy’ when painting.

when Makoto leads the study group among her classmates, Tsubaki will also show up for a time and assist --- explaining that they’ve helped each other study on occasion. 

one of her all-time favorite historical figures is a renowned folk hero of the feudal era, and she gets flustered just referring to him. her mother told her all the stories surrounding him, and she even owns several plushies modeled after a cartoon character meant to portray him on television.

her phrase during criticals is ‘let justice... be served !’; there’s also scales of justice and wings littered among camellia flowers in her finisher portrait after an all-out attack.

Lights on

who?: Wanna One’s Yoon Jisung 

genre: 🌸 type: bullet point, day one of christmas collab winkwonk

blog navigator.

• part of the collaboration with my girls @onlyjihoons and @hwinkinghwi • Jisung is in charge of running a huge, high class, world recognised flower garden

CKLSSHODS THE COLLAB KICKS OFF HERE IT’S STARTING. wow can you believe I’m posting first because I’m the youngest...but I love my bbys.💕 please go check them out as well! Hope you guys enjoy this collaboration.

- Admin L

posted late due to wifi problems as I’m currently overseas/still on hiatus. Apologies.

• honestly • in all honesty • cross your heart • you did NOT want to be here • when your parents suggested taking a day trip to Gardens By The Bay • and drag you out of your precious bed during the December holidays • it was a huge hell no • work/uni had been so stressful you just wanted a day to yourself and the bed • well, that had been your life since the start of the holidays but • nothing could beat the workload landed on Singapore university students • study study study • jiayou friends!!!! • occasionally emerge from your house to run to the kopitiam [ food court ] or wet market for food • and kopi • and kaya toast • before going back to the safety of your room to hibernate • preferably without a blanket fort because Singapore is hot enough • tropics • ahh yes sunshine • sun: *fries you up on Orchard Road pavement* • it never really feels like Christmas here if you don’t see the fancy decorations at malls and Orchard Road • because this island only ever has one season • which is summer • maybe that’s why your family wanted to visit GBTB to get a feel of some Christmassy decor and winter plants • to ‘get into the holiday mood’ • but really • as much as you wanted to admire the view • and the place the government put tons of money into building • there was work calling your name • and you were still sleep-eyed when your mum woke you up, shoved you into the backseat and drove halfway across the island to the resort style flower garden • fun fact: I performed at GBTB once • such talent [delete] • the crowds of excited tourists and booming noise of chatter irritated you and you wanted nothing more to go home • why • plus, your parents planned to stay in the area until nightfall for some lighting display thingy • why • your sleep schedule had been really REALLY   • really • messed up • :”) relate • you NEEDED sleep • December holidays is for sleep • fix your sleep schedule • proper sleep had become a need • it kind of always is but you just ignored it, grinding on to push your GPA up • get that 4.0 GPA! • but now • a need • you slept all the way to Gardens By The Bay, ignoring all the magnificent sights and attractions on the way • Merlion started sobbing how dare you • he was all scrubbed clean for the holiday season some more • Singapore Flyer wants to fly your ass away • Marina Bay Sands crumbled to the ground and you were still snoring • what a great citizen 👍🏼 • you were dead tired • yOU DON’T DESERVE THIS SLANDER • especially when you’ve seen it all already I guess • but honestly, I really want to be a tourist and do touristy shit one day • so you were ready to throw hands at all the people you didn’t exactly want to be around • ‘WAKE UP SWEETIE WE’RE HERE’ • cue car door opening • and blazing sunlight burning through your shut eyelids into the core of your orbs • AIR CON WHERE’S THE AIR CON • if you didn’t run, the humidity would frizz your hair up • before you could protest or wash your face to look as alive as the thriving plants • all the plants are hella well looked after believe me • iTS SO ALIVE AND ENTHRALLING • a ticket for Cloud Forest and Flower Dome was shoved into your hands • and you were thrown into the mystifying lands inside Gardens By The Bay • ooohhh • it was chillingly refreshing • misty • hmm • mysterious • mysterious Christmas • of course, GBTB had spared no expense on Christmas decorations • there was a Santa sleigh and reindeers pulling it on the upper floor • bet, it was going to illuminate once the sun went down • this is hard to explain in words but basically when you enter Flower Dome, you’ll see this really high platform far away on your right and usually some decorations are placed there • I actually haven’t been there in awhile • rip I googled all of this but my wifi is SLOW here • flowery scents wafted into your nose and surprisingly, it was energising • mhmm are those pine trees? • REAL pine trees growing in the soil • REAL ONES • we never get anything here • my mum nearly bought a dead $80 tree from Cold Storage idk if we should or should have • are those poinsettias? • red • blue • green • this is how Singapore decorates every year I’m not kidding • go Orchard Road and you’ll see • I think • anyway • you won’t be surprised if there was going to be gingerbread men growing on trees • Singapore science and technology is advanced 😫😭 • they actually formed the formula for the OCBC [bank] Skyway trees • they absorb sunlight, turns it into solar energy and that energy powers some parts of the park! • but imagine if food really grew on trees • you did buy a gingerbread man from a cart to fuel yourself • since you did skip breakfast • maybe you should get turkey and log cake for breakfast • even the lady serving you was decked out in poinsettias and a christmas hat • this is fiction I think ^ • huge mood   • PUMP UP C’MON • Christmas carols and pop songs were blasting through the speakers • ‘ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOUUUUU’ • it really got you into the mood • you wanted to dance • ‘JINGLE BELL ROCK’ • ah yes • jazzing to Christmas music • maybe you’d look like the awkward uncle from Hong Kong no one knew about until this year when he finally paid a visit • my family ^ • casually • rocking by yourself • yeah, that mood • bRING ON THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT • uh but you were also kind of freezing because there wasn’t much time to bring a jacket and whatnot • you never actually need a jacket in SG fyi • it’s 30+ degrees celcius all year round • but here, they plunge the temperatures so that the imported plants are able to survive and live well • suck it up • plants can deal with it but I can’t ??? no way • there were sparkly blue christmas lights draped all around the trees and there was a HUGE, GIGANTIC christmas tree decked out with lights, colourful ornaments • ahh so sweet • gET INTO THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT • you helped to take pictures of your parents • so cute • all touristy • and of course, family pictures and more christmas aesthetics • then suddenly • your parents spotted a tour ongoing • ‘eh let’s go join,’ • ‘mUM NO WE DIDn’T SIGN UP FOR IT’ • ‘aiya nevermind, they’ll never see one.’ • classic • so you slipped behind this group of people and their tour guide • the man was explaining something about the species of flowers • and how they were only found native in Alaska or something • but you know SG government invested big money to import and grow these JUST for christmas • wink wonk • they really endorse this garden city concept here • it actually is cute I like it • but there should be more garden, just saying • appreciate nature • anyway   • ‘and this species only grows in the coldest of weathers...’ • out of the corner of your eye, you spy a handsome, professionally dressed and seemingly important man • walkie talkie, iphone in his suit pocket, observing the guide • there’s a silver name tag pinned onto his jacket • manager? • supervisor? • managing director? • CEO? • there’s also a tiny poinsettia under his name tag • huh adorable • he’s definitely passionate about his job because you’ve seen these suited dudes and most of them ripped off the pin the second their boss turned their back • he’s different • you notice sweat suddenly rolling down the guide’s face • so that handsome guy is probably his superior and making sure he’s doing a good job • maybe he holds a really high position • ‘hEY HENRY SOMEONE BROKE INTO THE CACTUS EXHIBIT YOU NEED TO COME WITH ME NOW’ someone yells from behind • most probably another staff • this is a MAJOR thing okay • henry, your tour guide, VISIBLY jumps in shock, trying to find a solution • he really doesn’t need a mix of angry Singaporeans and tourists • >:( • wAtch ouT fOR thE CoMplaIN qUEEns • probably me so I can’t say anything • hENRY DO SOMETHING • let him live he just works here • HENRY SAVE THE CACTUS • HENRY DON’T WASTE TAX PAYERS MONEY PLEASE WE SPENT MONEY OF CACTUSES • ‘i got this,’ • your eyes widen when that dapper man pats Henry on the shoulder and gestures for him to follow the other worker behind the group • oooh he’s kind-hearted as he as good-looking • he hastily thanks the man, bowing slightly before running off • ‘hello everyone, apologies for the swap. I am Yoon Jisung and I’ll be your tour guide for today.’ • omg he’s so cute • his lips curve into a smile, one that reaches his eyes, completely opposite of his suave, serious look • ‘now, about this plant....’ • you’re completely amused and into his thorough explanation • plus, he has great way of expressing and wording his sentences • not to mention his facial expressions • that guy who always keeps everyone’s fullest attention • only now, you’re keen to tag along behind the group • sweetie me too • if i ever had a hot guy helping me • well, a Yoon Jisung guiding me • your parents eagerly blend and meld into the existing group, no one bats and eye • Jisung blinks • Jisung just smiles • he closes one eye • continues on with his explanation and tour without saying anything • after about 30 minutes wandering around • 30 minutes in his presence • half an hour breathing the same air as you • indirectly talking to him for 30 minutes • highlight of today • s w o o n • the tour slowly draws to a close • you’re dreading its end • at the end of the last exhibit, Jisung claps once and announces that his mini tour has come to an end • ‘you’re free to wander around, I’ll be here if you have any questions.’ • he smiles as the crowd breaks into applause • oH mY GOODNESS HIS SMILE CAN SAVE THE WORLD • a FrIckINg BEAUTY • between Jisung and the flower bed you can’t tell which one is the flower • ‘hey y/n, we’re going to that exhibit for a bit.’ your parents say, wandering off and leaving to your own devices • ‘o-oh okay.’ • you pretend to admire a flower, really, you’re admiring Jisung • he smiles, nods and waves at visitors while observing the staff • so sweet • doesn’t hesitate to help a curious visitor with questions • or a lost child looking for their parents • lowkey, you’re following him • you know, just around that square of attractions • he’s the biggest one • he faces your direction and you quickly duck, pretending to admire an ignited Christmas snowflake light • thinking he has finally looked away and moved on, you pop you head up • only to • meet his gaze • BUSTED • red-handed • red faced now • WH00PS • whAT HAVE I DONE • oh no • heat flows to your face and you want to jump and hide in a bush • there’s an abundance of bushes too • hey this thorny one seems very appealing • hopefully then I’ll remove all trace of myself • let’s :) hope :)) he :))) doesn’t :)))) see :))))) me :)))))) • I did great • good job • well done • you tried • how to check out a guy and not be caught 101 • 1. Don’t look up • 2. Jump in a thorny bush • ‘hello,’ Jisung greets. ‘how can I help you?’ • uHM • bY NOT MAKING MY HEART FLUTTER • PLEASE GET AWAY FROM ME • W O W MY HEARTBEAT SEEMS TO HAVE SPED UP A LOT • I REALLY WONDER WHY • I must be romantically attracted to plants or something • nO IT’S JUST YOU • and he’s a foreigner • his name gives him away completely and he probably has his own native language • yet he’s so fluent in English • hard-working intellectual • home boy could like...get it • hELP ME • someone save you pls • smiling sheepishly, you try to seem nonchalant and all • ‘I was just wondering...where...uhhh...um.’ • there’s no excuse you can come up with so you stand in silence with a heated face • Jisung just chuckles • he’s so cute when he laughs and his eyes just become crescent moons like ASDFGHJKL • jisung on master key got me rethinking my bias list tbh • Guanlin gonna have to fight >:( • ‘I’m Jisung,’ he introduced properly, offering his hand to shake. ‘How can I assist you?’ • STOP MY HEART FROM FLUTTERING • PLEASE AND THANKS • ‘I’m y/n, and um...what’s the Cloud Forest like?’ you ask randomly, even though you’ve read about it • is that all you could ask? • lol rip • Jisung thinks about it for awhile before bringing his hands together • ‘how about I show you instead?’ • OMG • he wants to spend more time with you • winkie wonkie • ;) • hmmm • you text your parents • because like most Singaporean parents, they’ll probably launch a police report if you’re out of their sight for more than 30 minutes • lol unless they leave you first • you: hi mother I’m going to the Cloud Forest first • the mother: ah can • the mother: with who ah? • oh • uh • how to I explain to my mum that I’m going with this hot manager • who’s gonna guide me around • lowkey shady • but this is Singapore, very very safe one • aiyo but guys please still be careful and wary of people ah • police better be on speed dial • SG Secure is the way • you: with a friend • the mother: who? • you: I bumped into them here • slowly, you shuffle after Jisung • it’s okay, you’re an independent person it’s fine • everyone will see if Jisung tries to kidnap you anyway • or push you off the Cloud Forest bridge • uh • the mother: you’re going with that Jisung guy ah • the mother: don’t play play with your mother • the mother: he’s shuai  [handsome] ok, I’ll be following behind • RUN • you beam at Jisung, looking up from your phone. ‘Let’s go!’ • ok guys this never actually happens so please don’t complain if you go GBTB and then there isn’t anyone like Jisung I’m sorry • Jisung takes you through the corridors, occasionally stopping to talk about the architecture • ‘where are you from?’ you blurt out, unable to keep the question in. ‘wait, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to’ • he shrugs, in fact, he starts smiling. ‘It’s fine. I’m Korean but I’ve lived here for a long time.’ • oPpA sArangHaEyO 😭😫 • ok but no lie, down here got a lot of koreaboos no offence but it’s quite true and it irks me a bit :((( • beaunite is the BIGGEST mess • I’m sorry • if you want to know, drop into our inbox • ‘ahhhh,’ you reply, nodding in understanding • growing up in a multi-racial society, you never had any qualms with having friends of other races • if you live in SG and you have problems with that, please :) move :)) • diversity • diversity is key • yes • Jisung is easy to talk to and you find yourself engaging in quick conversations with him • he’s easy-going • smiles a lot • does his best to talk to you • like • you know, making small comments, giving advice, talking about his own experience • ‘do you know Boost?’ [smoothie shop] • ‘sweetie, let me tell you, that day i Boost, I ordered a strawberry smoothie....’ • ‘LiSTEN, I’m telling you that the best chicken rice was the one Jinyoung da pao [takeaway] yesterday!’ • ‘whICH ONE?’ • ‘I don’t know, I fORGOT.’ • ‘HoW CAN YOU FORGET?’ • and you do the same • cute • this strayed so far from christmas I’m sorry • Cloud Forest is ten times more misting and mysterious than Flower Dome • much more • there’s a waterfall the first thing you enter • you gape at it in amazement • we don’t actually have natural waterfalls or rock formations here so things like these are pretty foreign and cool • the stone pathway around the display is all splashed with water • and you nearly slip • thankfully, Jisung reached out and grabbed your arm, guiding you to the least slippery part of the path • by the way, your arm is freezing because air con air con and more air con all day • it’s at least 10 degrees colder than the outside air • rip electricity bill :”) • he winces, wondering how you survived the cold all along • brace yourself for a cliché • CLICHÉ ALERT • Jisung takes off his jacket, and shyly hands it to you • ‘you’re absolutely freezing, take my jacket for now.’ • ‘oh no I can’t,’ you refuse • we have this very Singaporean thing where we refuse things we actually really want • and it kind of goes like a push-pull • until the person finally gives into the others pushing • ‘take it!’ • ‘I can’t, then you’ll be cold.’ • ‘it’s fine. wear it.’ • ‘....y-you sure?’ • ‘yes. wear it or you’ll become an icicle’ • see • ‘c’mon,’ Jisung says, taking your now covered arm. ‘Let’s go.’ • he seems to be saying that a lot • ADVENTURE TIME • adventure time with a cute guy • ;) • and your parents trailing behind • you could feel their eyes on you • watching your every move • l👀k out • this time, Jisung spends more time talking to you than actually explaining and introducing species of plants • unless it’s an absolute must to know what kind of fern that is • or which flower can be found where • but mostly its just • ‘hmm, I feel like the nasi goreng [fried rice] at Ang Mo Kio is the best..’ Jisung comments, falling into step with you • ‘huh? no lah, where got? The one in Serangoon Gardens is better lah.’ you shoot back, defending your favourite hawker • Jisung sighs and ‘tsks’. ‘No way, I’ll jio [treat you to a meal/outing] you one day and you’ll see.’ • did he just • ASK ME OUT? • WHAT • sure it isn’t ‘let’s apply for HDB’ [marriage proposal] • it’s so great that Jisung knows all the slang and is fluent in Singlish as well • husband • inbox if you want an explanation for all this slang :) it’s quite confusing sometimes • I kind of need Wanna One and Singlish because both are messes and it will be the best mess to ever exist • ‘moving on, this is an orchid that’s native to South Africa and....’ • no you suddenly can’t move on • MOVING ON GET A GRIP • even at lunch at a classy cafe, with Jisung gone, he can’t leave your mind • he said he would see you again after your lunch • somehow • somewhere • if it’s meant to be • ‘aiya, get your head out if the longkang! [drain] Singapore so small one confirm cannot lose people.’ • true • just take the next MRT back out • hi can someone please tell me if MRT stations decorate for Christmas? Thank you • ‘oi, y/n, kuai dian [quickly] makan. [eat] Later we late hor, I blame you.’ • ahhh parents :”) • but you know they’re just playing with you • after lunch, you spot Jisung at The Meadow - another part of GBTB - and wave • he comes running • ‘hi!’ • ‘woah, don’t you have paperwork or something more important to attend to?’ you ask, sort of hoping he doesn’t • you know just how DEMANDING jobs here are • cutthroat society • ‘nothing’s more important than you~’ he winks before bursting into giggles with you • HI NO ONE ACTUALLY SAYS THAT HERE • ‘uh... actually ah my job more important so let’s break up thanks.’ • SUCH ROMANCE • so then right • you two spend the next few hours exploring Gardens By The Bay • with and without your parents following you • Jisung does continue to talk about the gardens in between conversations • your surroundings are so bright and cheery • how were you in a bad mood? • there’s such a stark contrast from Starbucks, laptops and writing essays • cramming at work • cramming after work • the aroma of black coffee • or tea • working in general • so refreshing • so energising • so incredibly burning hot • btw, you returned Jisung’s jacket already which he had abandoned in his office • Jisung also doesn’t mind taking aesthetic pictures of you and the scenery • there’s also a couple of selfies of him on your phone • you find out he’s a bit gullible when you trick him into thinking that there was a dead pigeon on the park bench • he almost called animal patrol to remove it • it flew away unharmed • you can see why Jisung thrives in this environment • he’s so good-natured - pun intended - concerned, sweeter than a flower and more elegant than a swan • what a 12/10 day • then, nightfall comes • he escorts you to view the light display • Christmas Wonderland you think • but it’s already dreamland having Jisung as a new friend • from tour guide to friend • glo up • well done • took a huge WIN • never happens irl :( ^ • the light displays built finally illuminate • a smile ignites your face as you gaze at the structure, completely taken in • ‘impressive, isn’t it?’ Even though he views this every night, Jisung still takes a moment to admire the lights • your mother is secretly snapping pictures of you from behind y’all • ‘very,’ you breathe out, unable to comprehend Jisung’s [delete] it’s beauty • ‘this is crazy gorgeous.’ • the lights make you feel all warm and fuzzy, maybe as cool as royalty • there are sparkles and specks of glitter in your eyes, that’s how amazed you are • ‘thanks for spending the entire day with me, even though you didn’t have to,’ you tell Jisung sincerely. • ‘it was my pleasure. you’re good company.’ • did he go back to his professional, working self already? • your face falls slightly but you try not to let it show too much and nod • ‘I hope there will be more adventures like this,’ he adds. ‘Let’s keep in contact.’ • WHAT • OH GOODNESS WHAT’S HAPPENING • HUH • yOU HAVE ONE NEW CONTACT • you try to keep your cool even though internally, your heart has never thudded so quickly and you have never been this excited yet nervous • ‘so, where should we venture to next?’ • Jisung pretends to be deep in thought, pulling a face that shows he was pondering hard and making calculated decisions in his head • ‘how about National Gallery? or we can go see whose nasi goreng is better?’ • it sounds so appealing you can’t wait • the plans are already starting to form • you can’t bring home any flowers from here • but now, you’ve got one • nodding your head and offering up your pinky for Jisung to lock, you say, ‘Deal.’

Forget Me Not Chapter 26 ~Hold Your Horses~

Jamie lifted his head, and his frenzied movement on top of her came to a sudden stop. "What did ye say?" he whispered, his gaze drilling into hers. The lust in his eyes had evaporated as choppy emotions sailed across his face like a water rafting ride gone bad.

A whimper caught in her throat. "I'm pregnant." Why is the utterance of such simple words breaking her heart? Claire shut her eyes, refusing to look at him as tears streamed down her face. It was so unlike her to show weakness. Even going back to her high school days, she had been too stubborn to cry in front of her tormentors. 

The silence pulsed like it was alive, so many questions hanging over them in a big bubble, and the longer Jamie remained quiet, the more the panic propagated inside her. They have been through a lot as a family, and the last thing Claire wanted was to burden Jamie with her news. She had no doubt that he would do the right thing  but is this what he wants?  They were just embarking into a new relationship, and while she was finding her way again in the Highlands, Jamie was still on the road to recovery. Now a baby? How could she have been so careless? What would the rest of the family think? She was supposed to be the smart one, and smart people aren't supposed to be reckless.

"Sassenach, look at me."

She gulped for breath and hung on tight. The sunlight streaming from the windows didn't help at all as it blared full strength, so she kept her eyes firmly shut, hoping all this was just a dream.

"Sassenach, please." Jamie shifted his weight to his side and gently gathered her in his arms. 

Glorious warmth wrapped around her as he tucked her into his chest and held her close. The sweetness of his touch hushed her troubled heart, and slowly she relaxed against him, her muscles melting into the hard planes of his upper body, the strength of his arms, and the powerful thighs against hers. He murmured soothing words into her ears and rested his chin on top of her head. In his embrace, the fear momentarily lifted, and her cries subsided into hiccups. She could feel his heart racing against her hands.

After a few heartbeats, he forced her head up, digging his fingers into her scalp with gentle pressure. "Hul-loh there, mama ..." he whispered, hoarsely. A beatific smile unfurled across his face, making Claire blinked twice. "So, I'm going to be a daddy. Please tell me ye're happy too because words can't describe what I'm feeling right now." His eyes glistened as raw emotion resonated in his voice.

She bit her lips as she tried to sort through the different emotions struggling to surface. "I-I'm scared, Jamie. Oh, God, I'm so scared. Th-this is so huge. I realise it's too soon a-and I don't want you t-to feel obligated to take this on..a-and... and..." she stuttered shakily in between hiccups and stilted intake of breaths.

He put a thumb over her lips, the smile never leaving his face. "Ach, Sassenach, I'm scared too. But, Christ, have ye no idea how happy ye've made me?"

She was stunned at how well he took the news. He looked like he just won the lottery. But her emotions were all over the place.

Suddenly, annoyance surged through her, and she curled a hand into a fist and pummeled him on the chest. "Damn you, Jamie, damn you. And you nearly died taking that bullet, and what if..."

He didn't let her finish as he crashed his mouth over hers.

She didn't see his next move coming. He simply took over, burying his hands in her hair to keep her still. His tongue coaxed, teased and stroke her lips until she relaxed, opened wide and gave him what he wanted. She moaned as he sunk deep, making her head spin. His scent swamped her senses, and she desperately clung unto him, already under his spell and unable to fight it. He tasted of all things she loved - butter cookies and whisky-infused chocolate. Freshly squeezed orange juice and mint gum. He kissed her endlessly, slow and thorough, taking his sweet time as he ran a palm down her belly. His body shook with the effort to control his impulse, her response extracting a groan to spill from his throat.

Then there was a loud rap on the bedroom door.  Oh no!

Their lips slid apart, breaking contact, his flavour dancing tantalisingly on her tongue. For a brief moment, they stared at each other, both unwilling to let go of their magical connection. The sound of their shallow breathing seemed deafening in the shattering silence that passed.

Another rap, this time it was louder. "Hey, ye two, are ye going to get moving or what? We dinna want to be late for dinner. Ye ken what's Jenny like." It was Geillis, and they could hear her impatiently shuffling from behind the door. "If ye don't get moving, I'll pour a bucket of iced water over the two of ye and..."

"Coming!" Claire shouted despite the protests Jamie launched at her with his eyes. She made a move, but he grabbed her wrist.

"Do we have to go?" he asked huskily, cocking his head back. Pupils dilated with lust, mouth damp from kissing her, and his coppery curls mussed up from her fingers raking through the strands, it was tough to resist him. But she already made a promise to Ellen and Brian.

"What? And miss good food?" With lightheadedness gone, her stomach grumbled at the thought of dinner. All of a sudden, she was looking forward to dessert even though she had never been a sweet tooth.  When did food ever come first priority when there's a gorgeous man in my bed?   But then again, her body rhythm was running amok lately in ways that ways a novelty to her.   Giving Jamie a brief kiss, she wiped the tears away and hesitantly clambered out from the bed.

He groaned loudly, his breath coming out in ragged pants as he collapsed against the mattress.

Opening the door, Claire was confronted by an amused looking Geillis. Smiling, her friend's gaze briefly flicked past her shoulder to where Jamie was. "Our wee fox cub looks in top form, I see," she teased, winking.

"I heard that," Jamie's irritated voice came from behind her.

Geillis gave a haughty sniff and looked at Claire. "Willie and I will go ahead, ok? There are a few things we need to pick up from the shops before heading to Lallybroch. How are ye feeling? Ye think ye're up for family dinner tonight?" 

She knew her tear-stained face wasn't lost on Geillis. "Just a dizzy spell. It's all good." She hated lying to her best friend, but her brief explanation would have to suffice for now. She was still trying to reconcile her pregnancy with her thought process and Jamie's reaction. "You and Willie go ahead. I still need to shower. We shan't take long."

A frown marred Geillis' delicate brow. "Talk later then? I'm worried about ye, ye ken?"

"We'll talk, of course." She paused for a moment before giving her friend a quick hug. "There's nothing to worry about. I'll tell you all about it later. I promise," she whispered in her ears, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

"Alright then, fair enough." And with that, Geillis turned around and left.

When finally they were alone, she closed her eyes, let out a huge sigh and leaned back against the door. All she wanted at that moment was to curl up in a fetal position and rock herself to sleep. With her mood swings and fatigue, pregnancy was just too much to take in.

As if sensing her inner turmoil, Jamie approached her and took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. "Ye need not worry. There's the two of us now, Sassenach and soon, we'll be a family. It's everything I've hoped for and more. And I can't wait to tell everyone over dinner."

She pulled away to look at him. "Shouldn't we wait until we see the doctor? Pregnancy kits are not a hundred per cent accurate ..."

He laughed. "Och, ye're definitely pregnant."

Annoyed, she glared at him. "What makes you say that?"

"Weel, first off, yer tits feel bigger," he grinned as he stood back to eye her breasts. "And secondly, ye cried like a babe in swathing band, and I ken ye'd rather die than cry in front of me. Aye, I ken about women and hormones. And ye're definitely hormonal."

How dare he?  She bit back an angry reply. Jamie was right - she was definitely pregnant, as a tingling in her spine confirmed it for her. Her emotions were all over the place, and the stress at work was getting to her. Taking substantial deep breaths, she ignored his remark and forced a smile. "I'll go for a quick shower. I don't want us late for dinner."

Before she could make a move, he stopped her. "Come here." He snagged her around the waist, pulled her in and kissed her. The sweetness of his lips moving over hers stole her breath and soothed her soul. After a few heartbeats, he slowly let her go, but his gaze kept her pinned in place. "Better?"

She nodded, and this time when she smiled, she meant it.

..........

Jamie watched dinner unfold and tried to smother his mounting need to blurt out to the world he was going to be a da. 

Whereas he could barely taste the beautifully prepared meal before him, Claire ate hers with relish, hardly joining in any of the conversations. And when she did talk, she kept things deliberately light and steered away from topics about herself. So far, so good, no one had taken notice of her unusually reserved manner, but it was only a matter of time. It was apparent to him that she was nervous and fidgety about sharing their news. He should have been frustrated. Instead, he was filled with anticipation that rivalled Christmas mornings back in his childhood when he'd discovered beautifully wrapped presents under the tree, begging to be torn open. His chest swelled with pride and love at the thought of her carrying his child, and he couldn't wait for everyone to know.

He enjoyed watching her eat and fill her plate with second helping, her eyes lighting up as she savoured every morsel she put into her mouth. Her normally pale skin was flushed a gorgeous pink from warmth and food. She hadn't bothered putting make-up on and from where he was sat, he could see the faint freckles scattered across her nose under the soft gleam of the light. Lust struck him hard, and an overwhelming primitive need to claim his woman blasted him in waves. She looked so vulnerable amidst the laidback chaos of their family gathering. 

Right there and then, he wanted to whisk her away and ease her mind and heart, and promise her the world. The overwhelming need to give her everything she'd ever wanted surging through him.

Although he appreciated the fine art of patience, he figured tonight was the perfect occasion to announce their news, even though Claire was of the mind to wait until her pregnancy was confirmed by the doctor. A family dinner where everyone was present was a rarity in the Fraser household; hence he had pushed to grab this opportunity, much to her mild annoyance.

Slowly, the chatter faded into the background as he started to make plans in his head. First and foremost, he needed to accelerate the renovation of his house, which of course would require immediate funds. Although he had money saved, expediting the restoration would throw him off-budget. He mentally sifted through to his to-do list, not forgetting about Donas, the horse that was in the family stable. And the continuation of his therapy and rehabilitation. He needed his strength back to accomplish all that he needed to do. Finishing the house on time was tight but still doable. For sure, there would be setbacks, but that was part of the building process. And then there's the baby, and soon they would be a family. And one thing he wanted to make sure of - he was determined his bairn will not be born out of wedlock.  

By the end of the meal, Claire had leaned back against her chair, looking exhausted and completely disengaged with the discussion at the table. It was easy for her to disappear, with Jenny and Geillis taking over most of the conversation. So Jamie raised his voice and interrupted Geillis speech on the drawback of taking on packaged tours for the hotel. "I think that's enough shop talk for the evening. Don't ye think? That's all we ever talk about every time we're all together. How about we talk about what's going on outside work." He saw Claire suddenly perked up and her eyes widened as she subtly mouthed no and shook her head. He gave her a slow grin and winked.

"Aye, son. I've been wondering that myself. Surely ye young 'uns do more than work. So, what's everyone been up to, besides grafting all day?" Brian put his fork down and studied each of their faces. A slight frown marred his face when everyone went silent, each person on the table eyeing each other to see who will talk first. It amused Jamie how his father wielded power and authority over the family. "Weel? The silence is making me nervous. I hope none of ye has been up to no good."

Ellen delicately dabbed her lips with a napkin and patted her husband's hand. "Ah, the hotel has been chock-a-block with events' reservation these last couple of months. So I guess everyone has been too busy to have a life outside work. Maybe we should hire more staff..."

Ian, Jenny's fiance, cleared his throat. "Weel, if ye need an extra pair of hands during the weekend, I can help. The additional cash will go toward the future family fund." 

Jenny smiled with pride while Claire coughed and spluttered on the glass of water she was drinking.

Ellen gave a sympathetic nod as Geillis reached out to thump her back. "Ye alright, Claire dear? Ye've been awfully quiet tonight. And ye're not drinking wine? It's a fine bottle of Barolo we have here."

Humour struck, and Jamie smirked, but he figured it would be wise not to laugh considering what he had heard in the past about hormonal women during pregnancy. He needed to be in Claire's good books tonight.

Claire continued to cough, her golden eyes lasering firearms in warning at him. "Just tired, ma," she said through gritted teeth. "I think it's early to bed for me tonight."

Aye early to bed, but not to sleep.  Jamie suppressed the urge to smile. He was done waiting, and he knew Claire wanted him too. Maybe after their meal, they could go for a walk and show her Donas before going to bed. 

"Speaking of outside work, I've got some news I'd like to share," Willie joined in. Claire's coughing fit momentarily forgotten, everyone turned their attention to the older Fraser sibling. "I might as well share it with all of you now that everyone is here." Willie glanced at Geillis and immediately, the look on her face told Jamie what was coming.

This time it was Geillis turn to choke, her face turning almost the same colour as her hair.

Jamie observed his brother and thought of the tangled mess he'd made earlier in the day.  Damn Geneva!  He felt like a fool for allowing jealousy to get the better of him and wondered how to fix it. As if reading his mind, Willie gave him a reassuring nod as if to say, all was alright and that he understood. 

"Oh dear, what's up with all the coughing? I hope it's no' the bug. It's going around ye ken, and the hotel is already understaffed as it is," Jenny piped in, a worried look passing over her face.

Brian's eyes darted from Claire to Geillis, before giving his older son a nod. "So what's the news then?" he clipped out, leaning back on his chair.

Willie shot an apologetic glance at Geillis. "I meant to tell everyone sooner, but I wanted to wait until we were all together. Anyway, Geillis and I have been together for some time now. And I'm happy to introduce her as my girlfriend," he announced, trying his best to tamp down his mirth at Geillis' obvious discomfort.

Ignoring the pleasantly surprised look on Brian and Ellen, Jenny jumped up from the table, her petite form dancing with excitement, "I kind of knew, ye ken. There have been rumours flying about, but I wasn't a hundred per cent sure. Oh, I'm so delighted for ye guys," she squealed, clapping her hands.

Jamie watched with interest as everyone congratulated Willie and a red-faced Geillis. It was highly unusual for once that Geillis was at a loss for words as the newly unveiled couple received hugs and heartfelt congratulations. Happy that his brother had found love at last and that his focus was no longer on Claire anymore, Jamie sought her out amid the excitement. Sensing his gaze on her, Claire turned to look at him. She already knew he was itching to tell the world about her pregnancy and to his relief, she conceded with a simple nod and smile. It must have occurred to her that Willie's announcement would soften the blow of their news. 

But Jamie had something else up his sleeves that he had omitted to tell Claire. It was supposed to be a surprise.

Initial excitement over, everyone settled down back to their seats while Ian refilled everyone's drinks for a toast. A few raised an eyebrow when Claire passed but refrained from saying anything.

"Oh, weel, this is lovely news all around," Ellen gushed. "I ken it's been a trying couple of months for everyone, and I'm so chuffed everything is looking up." She smiled at her husband before turning to Claire. "And ye my dear, I'm so glad ye're eating. Ye've lost so much weight, and we were starting to get worried. And look at those pretty rosy cheeks of yers. It's a sign of good health, isn't it Brian, darling?"

"Aye, she is the epitome of an English rose," Brian smiled warmly, squeezing his wife's hand.

Jamie knew how uncomfortable Claire got when the attention was on her, so he decided now was the time to momentarily take the heat off her. "Er, da, I have something to ask of ye," Jamie interrupted, his gaze never leaving Claire once. 

Brian's eyes narrowed as he noted the seriousness of Jamie's tone. "What is it, lad?"

Jamie stood up and walked over to his father's side as he summoned calm and deep breaths before speaking, straightening to his full height despite the throb on his thigh. "Since Claire's da is not with us and ye are her foster da ..." He paused in concentration, trying to find the right words but everything he planned to say went straight out of the window. Remembering that his father was a man of few words, he decided to discard the flowery speech he had earlier memorised. Mind made up, Jamie looked at him straight in the eye and got straight to the point. "I would like to ask permission to ask Claire's hand in marriage." His heart suspended as a hush in the dining room followed, but the only sound that reached his ears was the gasp that came out from Claire.

"Hmmm ..." Brian looked at Claire, noting she was as stunned as everyone else on the table. "Now, that is one big surprise." His father let out a low whistle. "Not that I have anything against yer proposal. Ye ken that Claire is practically a family and always will be. And I couldn't ask for a better daughter-in-law. But what's the rush?"

"Aye, what's the rush?" Jenny echoed. "I have a wedding coming up soon. Or are ye planning on a double wedding with us?" 

"Jamie?" Claire whispered.

He stole a glance at Claire, and her face looked pale like she was about to pass out.  Why is she looking like that?   Wasn't marriage on the cards for her?  Worry and guilt descended on Jamie's back, weighing like a tonne. 

Geillis quickly grabbed a glass of water and handed it to her friend. "Goodness, so much for rosy cheeks ... ye've gone all white..."

"Aye, what's the rush, Jamie?" Willie asked, briefly glancing at Claire.

"Oh my God, ye really are pregnant, aren't ye?" Geillis blurted out. Realising what she just said, her hand flew to her mouth.

Everybody started talking at once, and Claire and Jamie groaned in unison. It wasn't panning out as Jamie had hoped for, but nought could be done now except to plod ahead.

"Oh, we have a wee Fraser bairn on the way, have we?" Ellen remarked, looking delighted than perturbed.

"How did that happen?" Willie asked, a frown marring his brows.

Jamie dragged in a deep breath, as exasperation began to simmer. "What do ye mean how did it happened? Do ye think we were playing marbles behind close doors?"  Christ, this was going all wrong.

"That must have been some marbles, eh?" Ian laughed, slapping a hand on his thigh.

Jenny shot her fiance a warning look.

"Lads!" Brian's voice thundered. "I'll do the talking, and no one talks until I ask ye to."

"Oh, dear..." Ellen sighed.

Brian waited for silence before he turned his attention to Claire. Everyone's eyes were on her, and they waited patiently for her to say something. Jamie wanted to interrupt to ease the pressure off her, but Brian raised his hand.

"Claire sweetheart is there something ye want to share with us?"

She hesitated for a long while. A minute passed before she was able to speak. And when she finally found her voice, she smiled at Jenny and Ellen. "The meal was superb," she started, as her hands disappeared under the table. Jamie could almost picture her wringing it in apprehension, but her beautiful face was too pale for his liking, and he began to worry.

"Oh, yes... I found out today that I'm pregnant. I know it's a huge shock for everyone and you must all think, how silly I am to be so careless. So if I've disappointed any of you, I'm so sorry." She rambled, shrugged and then looked at Jamie. "Jamie, I'm going to be quick about this because I'm suddenly feeling unwell. I love you loads. I know you haven't asked me yet, but yes, I'll marry you." Then she stood up and held out a hand to him, barely forewarned by the look in her eyes before she collapsed back onto her chair and fainted.

..........

The crack of lightning illuminated the sky, and the earth rumbled with fury as thunder followed. Although there was a storm brewing, the air remained bone dry and humid. Jamie quickly shrugged on a sweatshirt and a pair of worn jeans, thrusting his feet into old sneakers. He couldn't sleep so he might as well head out to the stables and check on Donas. Storms always spooked animals, and he wanted to make sure the horse was alright.

Before he left, he checked up on Claire. The colour was back on her cheeks. Curled up, hugging a pillow, face smoothed free of worries, dark curls spilt messily around her like a halo, she looked open and vulnerable. She had frightened them all after she collapsed in front of the family during dinner. Thinking about it made him feel guilty for suggesting marriage when she was just coming to terms with her carrying his child. But the doctor, who was a close family friend, assured them there was nothing to worry about and that it was pregnancy symptoms coupled with worked stress that caused her to faint.

Closing the door behind him, he headed for the stables, but he had to pause a few times to rub his right thigh. The change in weather almost always affected the injured muscles, making it throb and seize with every movement. The ache seeped into the bones and sinews, but he kept walking, embracing the pain to distract him of thoughts of Claire. Even though sweat prickled his skin, he increased his pace, sensing the rain would come shortly.

Reaching his destination, he winced as another boom of thunder split through the quiet. Letting out a low whistle to announce his arrival, he heard Donas paced the stall in nervous rage, and he hurried to reach the horse's side. Catching his scent, the frantic animal whirled around and stared back at him.

Inky eyes rolled back, filled with fear and rebellion. Heads raised, they assessed one another for a long time. Then something rose up inside Jamie, driving him forward. The horse needed touch and comfort and most of all, grounding.

"Och, having a bad night are we? What is it about loud noises and storm that bring the bad stuff, huh?" he crooned, as he put a hand on a rail.

Nostrils flared, recognition and wariness flickered in the horse's gaze. Feeling the thick humidity clogged and blocked the fresh air, Jamie peeled off his sweatshirt and tossed it on a pile of hay. With deliberate, careful motions, he unlatched the door and stepped into the stall. 

As Donas backed up, his arse hit the back the wall and his lips curled back in warning. Slowly, Jamie raised his hands, a stream of soothing Gaelic words rolling from his mouth. "That's it, that's a good lad. Let me touch ye. Where do ye like to be touch? Every horse has a favourite spot that reminds them of comfort and safety, aye? Ach such a beauty, ye are. Did someone try to beat ye? I know, I know, no one deserves that."

Jamie kept moving and talking until finally, he was able to reach out and slowly rub his nose. He deepened his voice, hypnotising them both away from the demons that raged outside and within. "That's my lad. I'm not going to hurt ye. That's it, that's a good lad."

He murmured nonstop, stroking Donas' skin, watching every move and expression to sense what he liked and didn't like. Down the neck, over the left flank, to the side belly and back up, Jamie kept up the light massage until a tiny softening of muscle told him Donas liked to be touch right under his chin.

"Ach, right here is it? Here ye go then..."

Thunder roared outside, and Jamie's breath hissed out, making Donas jerked. Rubbing the spot under Donas' chin, he murmured endearments until the horse began to steady and relax once again.

Finally, peace settled between them, a small smile resting on Jamie's lips. He gave himself to the moment, to this one magnificent animal who deserved a second chance and hoped with all his heart that Claire wanted the same thing as he did.

..........

She stirred as a loud clap of thunder, perforated her consciousness. Disoriented, she looked around and noticed she was in Jamie's makeshift bedroom. She reached out to his side of the bed, but he wasn't there. Sitting up, she tried to gather her bearings before memories of family dinner started to flood back in waves. She groaned, slapping her forehead.

Claire vaguely remembered being carried to bed or being fussed over by Geillis and Jenny. But she did remember clearly, an unfamiliar, kind voice saying she was alright and that she only needed plenty of rest.

Lightning illuminated the room. Feeling hot and sticky, she got out of bed and walked over to the window to watch the sky. A faint prickle of excitement mixed with apprehension shot down her spine as she laid a hand on her stomach. Although that day was loaded with surprises that literally knocked her off her feet, there was a restless need to move forward. 

Dressed only in her nightshirt, she put on her wellies and left the sanctuary of the house, eager for some fresh air. Intuitively she knew Jamie wouldn't be indoors. She had heard all about the fostered horse and instinct told her he would be in the stable. It was where all the Fraser kids, including herself, used to run when they needed time to think.

The trees stirred, and the scent of ripe earth and pungent spring florals rose to her nostrils. Storms always meant cuddling up under thick blankets, but it was unusually warm for this time of year. Although she had never walked in the rain without proper cover, tonight she craved the feel of water on her skin.

Her path took her towards the outbuilding, silent and dark. She badly needed Jamie to hold her in his arms. Despite the uncertainty of their future, she always found her centre with him. He was her home. And tonight of all nights, she certainly didn't want to be alone.

A jagged arc of light exploded in the dark sky and drops of cold water hit her flushed skin, offering relief from the heavy heat. She tilted her head up, embracing the rain while trying to count the endless stars, and she jumped when a crack of thunder shook the ground.

In the silence that followed, she heard Jamie's low voice. Then the rain picked up, slowly gaining force, and soon her nightshirt was soaked, but she didn't care. Wiping dripping rivulets of rain from her forehead, she went through the open door and crept toward the back of the stable, careful not to disturb.

Jamie stood in the stall with a beautiful black horse. She watched while he whispered something Gaelic in the animal's pricked ears, his hand stroking under the horse's massive head. Man and animal were caught in the moment, completely connected with one another and oblivious to their surrounding. Transfixed by the display, her gaze roved over the man.  Yes, my man!  Her heart started to race at the thought that he was indeed hers.

Shirtless, Jamie's lithe, sleek muscles stretched under his damp golden skin, and jeans slung low on his lean hips. His legs were braced apart, giving her an ample view of his tight arse. With his ginger hair brushing the back of his neck and the shadow of his beard hugging his jaw, he looked like a work of art. She swallowed hard as she imagined running her hand down the length of his spine, to test the solidness of his flesh. Suddenly, the air charged, and he stilled. He slowly pivoted his body and their eyes locked.

Electricity crackled through the stable, echoing the sound of thunder that vibrated the walls around them. The horse jerked slightly, but stayed put, still under the spell of the man who had his hands on him. His gaze openly swept over her body, lingering over the curves of her breasts under her wet nightshirt.

"Are ye feeling better?" Jamie asked but didn't move. He regarded her under heavy-lidded eyes while his fingers danced over the horse's side in a hypnotic rhythm. Unconsciously biting down on her lip, she imagined them trailing down her naked body.

She nodded. "Did I scare everyone earlier?"

"Aye. We were all worried, but the doctor assured us ye'll be fine. Part of pregnancy symptoms...I guess. Or was it the talk of marriage that made ye faint?"

Rain pelted the windows, sounding like a heavy shower of hailstones. Anticipation stretched between them, thrumming under every movement and word spoken. 

"No, of course not." She thought of something else to say, feeling conscious of his gaze. "So, this is Donas," she finally said.

Jamie turned his attention towards the horse. "Aye, Isobel's rescue. He was definitely abused, but I'm not sure yet to what extent. I intend to rehabilitate him."

Sadness engulfed her as she glanced at the beautiful creature. "I can't understand why anyone would want to hurt an animal. Do you think Donas will recover?"

"I hope so. I need to spend a lot of time with him, so I can gain his trust. Touching is a great way to obtain it - it grounds and calms them. You can tell I found his sweet spot."

Her breath hitched at the not so subtle innuendo. "Sweet spot indeed."

 A flash of amusement lit his eyes. "Horses like certain places rubbed ...kind of like ye."

A strangled noise escaped her throat. "Hmmm, is that so?" she croaked.

He turned his gaze towards the horse. "Remember when we use to sleep here years ago, whenever there was a thunderstorm? We took turns calming the horses."

She smiled at the distant memory. "Of course, I remember. Precious times with you ...away from the horrors of school."

A sad smile flickered on his lips. "I loved spending every moment with ye. I only wish I could turn back time and make things right. That story with Geneva will forever haunt me ...ye nearly took yer own life. If anything had happened to ye then, I would have been so devastated ..."

Claire stared at him as the words wound their way through her head and heart, tangling up into one big knot. How could she have been so blind back then? Jamie had always loved her, been there for her. Despite her flaws, he saw through her imperfections and quirkiness. She can admit to herself now, after years of suppressing it, she had always been infatuated with him. But because of their circumstances growing up, she had crushed those ideas out of guilt, thinking it was immoral to have feelings that went beyond sibling fondness. 

Her realisation startled her, and now, she too wished she could turn back time and let him know that she loved him then. She had always held a little back when they made love, but tonight she wanted to give all of her, no holds barred, the same way he had always done for her.

The air charged all of a sudden. As if Jamie had caught her actual thought, he dropped his hands and walked away from the horse. His motion was slow and deliberate as he closed the stall door and moved forward to stand a few inches away from her. "I've never seen ye look at me like that before. Tell me, Sassenach, ye want me, don't ye?"

She was too mesmerised to answer. Shifting closer, Jamie reached out and smoothed back the wet strands of hair away from her face and caressed her cheek. He leaned forward and breathed out the words against her ears. "...so bad that ye came out looking for me."

Heat exploded through her veins. Barely able to breathe, she stood helpless under Jamie's spell, enthralled by the look of raw hunger in his penetrating blue eyes.

"Ye're soaking wet," he whispered. 

Slowly, his index finger travelled down her jaw and the side of her neck. And it stopped at the curve of her breast. His gaze locked with hers, as he traced the outline of her nipple beneath the damp cotton. The erotic gesture made a tiny gasp burst from her lips. "Yes," she replied hoarsely.

"Aye, definitely on the outside. How about down there, Sassenach, are ye wet there too?" 

Her heart faltered before it rocketed into a frenzied rhythm. The world seemed to slow down to that one finger as it dropped from her nipple and drifted past her stomach down to her thigh. Lifting her nightshirt, it paused at the waistband of her panties. "Will ye tell me, or shall I find out myself?"

A bolt of lightning lit up the room, illuminating Jamie's face. The scent of man and horse and hay swamped her senses, making her giddy with pleasure and need. When her knees began to give way, he backed her up the last step toward the wall.

"Sassenach?"

Startled, she blinked up at him, already prepared for the sensual assault. There was nothing to think about or plan when she was in Jamie's arms. The only focus she had now was giving all of herself to him, in complete surrender. Grasping his hand, she guided his fingers to the throbbing ache between her legs. "Touch me, Jamie," she pleaded huskily, arching her hips in invitation. "Please."

With a low growl of triumph, he picked her up and pinned her against the wall. Her legs automatically wrapped around his hips and her fingers raked through his hair, holding his head still as she looked into his eyes. 

Pure lust was etched in his carved features, sending a jolt of heat all over her body. Uttering obscenities under his breath, he stamped his lips over hers and thrust his tongue inside her mouth, savouring her like she was the finest whisky he had ever tasted. "Christ, I don't think I can be gentle with ye ... it's been too long, Sassenach," he murmured against her lips, hips rocking her back and forth.

She moaned as he deepened the kiss, surrendering and letting her body take the lead. "I don't want gentle ...I w-want you so bad ..." Arching against the wall, her hands ran over his chest and back, scraping her nails impatiently over his taut shoulders.

Jamie didn't need further persuasion. Suddenly in quick successive motions, he yanked off her nightshirt, pulled the wellies off her feet and dragged her panties down her hips, kicking them away on the dirty floor. Hitching her higher against the wall, he savagely sucked her nipple and plunged two fingers into her heated core. There was no seduction or tentativeness just the carnal pump of his fingers and the swipe of his thumb over her sensitive nub. 

"Yes, oh Christ, Jamie, please..." she sobbed as she writhed against him.

Never taking his fingers from inside her, he slid her down and took her mouth, swallowing her cries as he pushed her to the edge.

When he finally ripped his mouth away from hers, he studied her face, sky-blue eyes delving, sheened with lust and reverence that filled her up. "Ye're so beautiful,  mo chrìdh.  Let go and come for me ...aye, that's it. So sweet, my lass..." His hand worked in ruthless precision that soared her straight to the peak of climax, pushing her over in moments.

"Oh God, Jamie..." Her body started to convulse uncontrollably, thrashing her head back and forth. The excruciating pleasure surged over her in waves as her body rode it with wild abandon. Jamie continued to pump his fingers inside her, easing slowly until every last orgasm was wrung out.

Finally, when her body started to go limp, he drew back his head and scooped her up against him, pressing kisses on her cheek. "Ye were wonderful, Sassenach. I've dreamt every night touching ye like this ... of having ye back in my arms," he murmured against her ears, one hand stroking her hair.

Her vision was still blurred, and her head lolled as he swung her from the wall and gently laid her down on a pile of fresh hay. Another bolt of thunder shook the stable, and she shuddered in anticipation as her focus cleared. He stood there, looking magnificent in all his maleness glory. Mouth dry, unable to say a word to express the need coursing through her, she lifted her arms for him to join her.

Slowly, he divested himself of his jeans, as he took in her naked body, trembling and open for him. He plied her with sweet Gaelic endearments, as he lowered himself over her, worshipping her with kisses. Rubbing rough palms over her sensitive nipples, he took his time, stroking, licking and sucking, until she was begging for relief.

Then he slipped his hands under her knees and pushed forward towards her opening. Her thighs trembled in his grip as he slowly surged between her legs. Wantonly, her body squeezed him tight even as she waited with bated breaths for the complete joining of their bodies. She watched his expression in pure fascination as his eyes practically rolled back in his head in exquisite pleasure. 

Buried to the hilt, he took a ragged breath, his gaze raking over her face. "Yer first tumble in the hay, Sassenach," he teased, pure male satisfaction lighting up his eyes. As she adjusted to his girth and started to rock her hips, he groaned, pressing his forehead to hers. "Christ, I like ye like this ...all wild and messy. So tight, so perfect."

"And you talk too much," she hissed.

His chest shook against her, as he gave a low laugh. Taking her mouth in a deep drugging kiss, he began to move, chanting her name under his breath. Then tearing his lips away from hers, he cupped her cheek, forcing her to keep his gaze as he rocked his hips against her, sliding all the way out, and then thrusting deep and hard. Arousal flickered to life from within her belly as her body woke up again. She arched up and pushed at his shoulders, caught between needing more and needing him to retreat.

A vicious curse escaped his lips. "Ye're so perfect, Sassenach. So beautiful in every way. With my child in ye, I'm part of ye forever."

His words made her heart expand, almost depriving her of air. Then he pulled out and dragged the tip of his cock over her aching core, before slamming back deep inside her. In seconds, she was caught again on edge as tiny whimpers rose from her throat. With every powerful stroke of his thrust, he claimed her, allowing no room for anything but the primitive demand of surrender. "I'm yours completely, Jamie," she cried out. 

"As I'm yers,  mo nighean donn , as I'm yers," he whispered, running a hand over her breast to tug at a nipple. "Don't hold back ... give me all ye have."

Everything blurred in a haze, lost under the driving rhythm of his thrusts, pushing her higher and higher. He gripped her hips and lifted her to meet him. And in that brief moment, an overwhelming love pervaded through every molecule of her body, more potent than the lust and need for release. She wanted to give all of her, freely and wildly.

Clasping her legs tight around his hips, she lifted up and using the pressure of her body weight, forcibly flipped him over, with him still deep inside her. On top of him, she sank down, bowing back her body.

"Oh, God, ye're killing me," he breathed out, his hands gripping her waist. He lifted her high up above him and slammed her down on his cock. "Take what ye want, Sassenach. Take it all. I belong to ye."

So she did, moving her body to her own demanding pace. Her thighs tightened, and she threw her head back in rapture. She rode his cock free from inhibition, focused only on the man underneath her. He filled every aching inch, knocking away her very breath, and she clenched her inner muscles to seize him even deeper, rocking her hips to take him to the hilt. When the orgasm finally exploded through her body, she screamed his name without restraint.

He let out a hoarse shout. "Oh, fuck," he gritted. "Don't want it to end. It's too good. Ye feel so good." Grabbing her hips, he forced her to ride him through her climax, drawing out her pleasure for endless, mind-blowing moments. Then he was coming, twisting his body and dragging her down so he could kiss her, his tongue thrusting desperately as his cock. 

Spilling his seed, he roared out her name.

The rain battered the roof, and the lightning lit the stable. Donas gave a low snort, his hooves a dull echo. Finally, she collapsed onto his chest, her skin damped from sweat.

Then her muscles shut down one by one until she slumped over, stretched on top of him. Legs entwined and his breath on her cheeks, she let her mind go blank and her limbs limp. Sated, she relished the floaty sensation of complete bliss.

He pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her, and relaxed into a full snuggle. They were quiet for a while as if they both sensed the moment was bigger than any words. The scent of sex, sweat and musk lingered heavily in the air.

Jamie spoke first. "I intend to marry only once, Sassenach. And I wanted to make it a day to remember when I propose to ye, surrounded by family. Somehow, I managed to muck that up," he said ruefully, tapping the tip of her nose.

Groggily, she pressed a kiss to his bristly jaw. "Let's say, dinner earlier never happened. And now, there's only the two of us. How would you propose, and what would you do differently?"

He thought for a moment. "I would begin by teaching you a Gaelic word,  cianalas ."

Although she partially grew up in the Highlands, her knowledge of Gaelic was slight. " Cianalas ," she repeated, pronouncing it in the same guttural tone as he had.

"Aye. It's a yearning for something that was lost or never existed. You feel it for a person or a place, or a time in your life... it's sort of sadness of the soul if ye wish.  Cianalas  calls to a Highlander even when he's closest to happiness, reminding him that he's incomplete."

His words caused her heart to break a little. "Do you feel that way, Jamie? Incomplete?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"Ever since the day I was born." He looked down into her face, tenderly pushing the loose tendrils of curls away from her eye. "But never when I'm with ye." Then he took her hand and kissed the inside of her palm. "I ken we're not in the most idyllic place, nor will I ever be accused of being romantic; nevertheless, I will ask ye. So , mo chrìdhe,  would ye do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

Nestling closer until their faces were inches apart, she scanned his face for the longest time, absorbing all the adoration in his eyes. Leaning forward, she kissed him slow, deep and gentle. Then when she pulled away, she rubbed her nose against his. "Your proposals are improving, Mr James Fraser," she whispered.

He laughed out loud and pulled her tighter against him. "Is that a yes?"

A smile touched her swollen lips. "Yes, Jamie, it's a yes."

"I don't have the ring with me here. It's in the house. It's not a done deal until I put a ring in your finger," he teased. Taking her hands, he grasped her fingers, entwining them together and bringing them up beside her head.

She wrinkled her nose. "Now, that's awful. Shall we shake on it instead?"

"No."

Slowly realisation dawned, as she looked down between their bodies. "Goodness, Jamie, how do you do that so fast?" She started to wriggle as he began to nip a sensitive part of her neck. "J-Jamie, I can't just yet ...I'm still sore. A-and ...oh, God, yes..."

Jamie covered her body with his, took her mouth and finalised the deal.

A Slow Damage headcanon theory compilation by Ann

It’s late and I’m supposed to write short stories instead of a long rant about a game that’s not even out. But after watching the Slow Damage PV another hundred times and seeing that the N+C fandom is kinda dead. I decided to add my little, possibly going to remain unseen theories/headcanons/speculations/guesses etc. for the fans waiting for something new.

Note that nothing of what I’ve written is to be taken at face-value, it’s just my speculation and feel free to correct me on anything or share your theories with me. Anything to make this agonizing period of waiting a bit less agonizing!

First, these guesses wouldn’t be as strong without @shinocchidesu’s text decode on the PV and the inverted sketches @bara-mink (sorry, for some reason i couldn’t tag you :C) made to get a new perspective on the images, and they look clearer!. Kudos to them!

To start this trip, I may warn you this is gonna be long as heck. Be prepared.

We’ve got to start with the ambience. N+C has something like a track record regarding crapsack worlds, dramatical murder and maybe false alkanet being the exceptions (and even then, Dmmd was dark as fuck despite the cheery, colorful world it was in). Togainu no Chi was a post-war dystopia, Lamento was a story in a world that was slowly dying, and sweet pool’s world was fairly ordinary but the darkness on the plot was the product of the characters’ doing.

Slow damage seems to be the game where both the characters and the world around them are grimdark as hell.

Taking the PV at face value, the characters seemed suspicious, the music and effects were unsettling and the background left an impression (at least in me) that nothing was fine. Looked kind of like a decadent city, or a red-light district, just an urban zone full of crime. If I had to compare it to explain myself better, think of Dragon Palace in Omerta Chinmoku no Okite (another BL, mafia themed VN).

(what looks like an urban environment in the pv):

(omerta’s dragon palace, for comparison):

A crime-filled ambience is an ideal place for a dark plot with troubled characters.

Moving along with the characters, we see 4 of them (at least if there’s not a hidden twin, clone or doppelganger). None of them look 100% sane to me. The flashing visuals and slightly off-key music and sounds are likely to hint that at us, or maybe it’s the kanji, for the Japanese-speaking people? They’re either very involved with crime, or their hands aren’t clean enough to disprove any guilt. At least for me, since these are my deductions.

Moving on, I’m going to talk about the people we see in the PV. Starting with:

My thoughts about him? When there’s crime, there should be cops. He looks like a detective or cop to me. He also seems to be middle aged, or older than the MC at the very least. Old enough to have been a father? Who knows. But he reminds me of Motomi (TnC) and Kiryuu (Omerta) for some reason. I’ll call him Kiryu for now.

The words deciphered by shinocchidesu in their post read:

Sins, guilt, depression, self-loathing, to hide something, mask.

If I tie this to his assumed position in the law, Kiryu must have committed a crime himself and/or gotten someone killed. It was either an accident or intentional, whether in a moment of weakness or fully aware of what was going to unfold. In any case. It seems like Kiryu desperately wants to hide it, or forget it. Or the disgust he felt with himself after doing it.

Affection, mercy, silence, determination to be…

What if his route is like a healing process, maybe not just for Kiryu, but also for whatever the MC went through before? Maybe by taking his route, if he has one, we can make him move on or remind him that the past is in the past, and that he can still find worthy things in his life (Like the MC?). he’s going to feel more positive with the MC around him, he may quickly take a liking to him. Maybe because he reminds Kiryu of someone from his past? Is being romanced by the MC like a chance to symbolically or internally fix everything that went wrong?

Next is…

My thoughts about him? Looks like the typical pretty boy every anime media must have. Longish hair? Check. More delicate face structure? Check. Mischievous smile? Check. He also seems to have piercings, or maybe it’s the rough lines of the sketches. I’m going to call him Shi for now, read the explanation ahead.

The deciphered words read:

Unrestrained, unstoppable pleasure, blood, bone, flesh, violence.

This doesn’t spell good.

I’m going to stretch my deductions a lot and state that maybe Shi was (or is) a cannibal, or a serial killer. I see him as a hedonistic fuck who doesn’t care about other people’s wellbeing as long as he’s having a blast. Maybe he was under the influence of drugs. All of this spells that Shi was an outright criminal, the kind of pleasure-seeking person who will go to the extreme just to feel new sensations, even if they’re morally wrong. Shi wants to feel thrilled, he has no barriers or chains. He’s a free man and not even the police can keep him from having his way. He’s sassy, brash, carefree and confident. Has a joyful and fun façade to hide his bloodthirstiness and the misery it caused him.

Or we can take the other side and imply he was being forced to be like this. Maybe he was part of a cult or a very toxic group who indulged in killing and intoxication. He’s used to this, even if he doesn’t want to be. Maybe the MC can help him withdraw from his passions or push him deeper into it while joining him. I still don’t have this clear.

Self-denial, build and rebuild, hidden aesthetic.

Shi lives very frugally. Because of his criminal status he has to constantly relocate, but it’s not like he has important things to leave behind. Much like Nine told Aoba in dmmd re:connect, Shi can build and destroy his (outer) world whenever he wants or needs to and he doesn’t lose much by that. The build and rebuild part can also apply to his possible murderous intents, since he destroys lives in order to build up his pleasure. Possibly being with the MC may inspire a desire to settle down, despite the risk, and having legitimate reasons to do the opposite. A possible bad end might be joining in the bloody debauchery and being dominated by Shi?

Next one…

My thoughts about him? A classic character; the kichiku megane. Other than Ugajin (also from Omerta) and the yaoi manga with that name, I cannot make any comparisons due the fact I haven’t seen many examples of this archetype. Unless he turns out to be a caring, if amoral sweetheart, I’m betting my cat’s life that he’s going to follow the trope to a T. Stoic, sadistic, cruel and uncaring, but smart, sophisticated, desirable and maybe hiding a very tiny good heart. He looks like a high-ranking criminal, or yakuza or mafia or I dunno, he looks not like a lowlife thug, but more like an evil hidden-in-plain-sight kind of criminal. He can afford to look elegantly amoral. It took me a while to give him a decent placeholder name, so I’m just calling him Kenji for now.

Let’s analyze his phrases.

To put on, not being himself, inerasable past, acted out truth, hatred towards their own.

This one’s a little more complicated to me even if it seems to be explicitly spelled out. Kenji’s self-hatred must stem from a typical traumatic experience. Maybe his family/race/clan/group did something awful and he was one of the few who regretted letting it happen? And that’s why he’s involved with crime? Because he sees himself as nothing but another apple that rot far away from the tree and he can’t do better than commit more crimes?. A little part of himself knows that while he’s scum, or at least related with the real scum, he didn’t commit atrocities like his kind so he can afford to be a little bit better. He desperately tries to distance himself from his clan, erasing his past and not wanting the horrible truth to be discovered. He doesn’t need to have a higher moral ground, he’s content with not doing horrible things directly. And he clings to that.

Cruel, thorough confrontation, continuous obsession.

Rule of three dictated these might refer to Kenji’s relationship with the MC. While MC doesn’t look like a career criminal, he’s still at the very bottom of the barrel, living in the crime-ridden urban settlement on a filthy studio (assuming he’s an artist). While Kenji can flaunt of being sophisticated and respected. If the kichiku megane aspect is played straight, Kenji won’t limit his cruelty with the MC, maybe seeing him as just another ruffian undeserving of even mere eye contact, much like he sees the people working for him. MC will keep clashing with Kenji, causing the yakuza to become enticed and attracted to the young (?) smoker. As if he’s “deserving” of him. I don’t have much else, sorry.

And finally…

Now let’s go with the hooded person, who I’m assuming it’s the MC, and if he isn’t and turned out to be the main antagonist or some shit like that, welp, then screech in my ear and call me Rachel.

I’m basing my guesses from the teaser images rather than the kanji.

The first one is simplistic. We see a person in a hoodie sporting a macabre smile, standing in the middle of a street with distorted figures which must be buildings. The colors are limited, classical red, black and white, aiding the macabre aesthetic of the picture. The black figures seem to sink onto the ground and lose consistency. As seen on the N+C website, the title of the game is written twice; once in white and then in black, right over the white katakana in an irregular way that may be meant to add to the “instability” of the image.

I don’t see much symbolism other that this being N+C’s way of saying “yo, we gon fuck your mind up but you gotta wait for it ;) also if you don’t speak Japanese then you’re doubly screwed fam”

The second one is more complex and gives us a very good look at the aspects and symbolism. We see the hooded person in much clearer detail. Looks definitely masculine (it’s a yaoi game, duh). He’s sitting on a stool, in a crooked posture, looking depressed and defeated, smoking while avoiding eye contact with the camera. Smoking was believed to reduce stress, but that was debunked a while ago, so he has pent up a ton of anxiety added to the usual problems with his already underprivileged lifestyle. Behind him there are numerous canvases (assuming he’s an artist, or at least a hobbyist) with a huge black one right behind his back, they show no images other than empty whiteness and some shadows, their meanings being that either he gave up, those easels are representing emptiness and gloom, he became disillusioned and he’s reflecting on stuff, or that there are multiple problems in his life that are unimportant or self-inflicted and thus cause him small amounts of misery but not to an extreme extent, and this one big black canvas right behind his back represents factor that started, prolonged or keeps fueling his bitterness and internal struggle.

I want you to save me./Do you want to be saved?

In a world of crime, a young man has the chance to make things right. Anything he could do may make things better or worse. Is he talking to himself? Is someone else asking him that? All the above?

By who? By me?

He’s doubtful and depressed. He started at the bottom and he’s still in the bottom (that was unintentional). But can he push his frustrations aside and face the music?

That concludes my analysis and helped quench my impatience a little bit. I should repeat that this is not to be taken at face value nor I’m saying this is 100% canon official information. It’s just another guessing game to see if I can give you an idea of what to expect. I dunno, I just wrote this for fun C: thanks for reading!

Hi, Ais! How detailed do the mission reports have to be? I always wondered about what Sin read about Boyd's valentine mission. Was it very cut and dry, and to the point (ex."I was used as a prostitute for the first few months and they kept me high on Slide")? Or would it have been a more thorough description about being used and how Slide affected him? Would some of his resentment and anger have bled into the report or would he have hidden his feelings so as not to show any weakness?

Hi :) So, Sonny and I never specifically discussed it so I can’t say for sure. I can only say what makes sense to me, which could conceivably change if we ever talked about it and if he had a different perspective.

My thought is this: It depends but generally they’re supposed to be detailed enough to explain what happened, how, and, if known, why. In a normal mission he wouldn’t be able to write something really oversimplified but it also depends on what happened. Theoretically, though, they should objective enough to explain the situation and circumstances, but also include explanations for actions taken that may have been out of the norm or that otherwise is of note. 

MORE BELOW THE CUT - CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR FADE! (Also is long as hell jfc)

So for example, in a normal mission he might have written something like, “I entered the compound through the third door from the west on the southern side. This location was deemed ideal due to the overgrown trees which hid it from view of the cameras located at the southeast corner, and due to its proximity to the access to the basement. Upon my entry, I was met with unexpected resistance from a hostile who was in the area at a time we had noted from previous research should render this area empty. I dispatched the hostile and hid his body in a nearby room before proceeding downward.” 

And so on. The level of detail can vary if what they’re dealing with is routine expected behavior on a mission. Boyd’s more detailed because that’s his personality (he’d rather be very exact and overachieve than feel like he left something to be desired) but another agent probably could have written that same report, explaining that same situation, with something like, “I entered the compound in the predesignated location and was met with low-level resistance before proceeding to the basement.”

Both would be acceptable if the mission was successfully completed and there were no issues on it, because whether Boyd explains in detail which door he entered and why there was a hostile there, or whether another agent just says they got inside and met some minor resistance, either way the mission was successful and either way there aren’t any long term issues. If that base was blown up by the agent for example, ultimately it doesn’t matter if Boyd explains about that hostile and the specific door and etc etc, because everything was destroyed. It’s really a moot point what happened if it doesn’t affect future missions. As long as the Agency knows what happened and if they have to deal with any other shit in the future as a result of anything that happened here, and as long as the Agency knows it was successful, the level of detail can vary.

In a long term mission like the Forakis mission, I doubt the Agency expects incredibly detailed explanations of everything that occurred because that would make for a very long report. In that case, it would be more important to highlight notable events or circumstances, making sure to include anything that could be a detriment to the Agency or future missions, and overview the specifics of how the mission’s end goal was completed. All the rest of what happened isn’t as important to the Agency administration as it would be to the agent’s psychiatrist in helping them cope upon their return, but the Agency would still want to know enough to know if they have a “damaged” agent on their hands, and if they need to take extra precautions or steps in dealing with them when they return.

The Forakis mission for Boyd was a game changer in a lot of ways. It became a significant event in his life that split his viewpoint into Before Cyclone/Aleixo and After Cyclone/Aleixo. Before Slide and After Slide. This was for many reasons that you already know but it also affected the way he functioned as an agent, when he returned to find Hsin gone. He ended up becoming a “better” agent according to the Agency because he finally became consistent; finally focused fully on his tasks instead of being worried about and/or distracted by his partner -- a weakness, they ultimately would have seen it, since he was supposed to be the one who kept Hsin from being distracted, not get distracted himself. 

Another difference in how he functioned as an agent, I feel, likely was seen in his reports. Whereas before he still had enough faith and loyalty to the Agency, despite everything, that he had gone above and beyond in his documentation in his reports, detailing things that didn’t need to be detailed on the off chance it should be important to the Agency or other agents later -- after Aleixo, his reports became curt, cut down, distant. He wrote his reports more like the other agent example I listed above.

Because he no longer trusted the Agency after Aleixo. He saw them as an enemy collecting information on him to use against him later. He saw them as an organization that took those details and compiled it to sit in a database somewhere, waiting for the moment they could pull it out and twist it all together into a weapon meant to rend his heart and soul. That’s how he felt afterward; a clear departure from how he had felt before.

That distrust and disinterest in providing details includes the report he gave the Agency about the Aleixo mission, not only because of his distrust of them but also because of his hatred and resentment of what had happened. And because of the humiliation he felt, the hatred he felt toward himself, all the jumbled emotions that made him want to protect every detail of what occurred with his life, so no one could piece it all together and learn exactly how to destroy him the way he felt he’d been destroyed in Aleixo’s care. 

He wrote as short a report as he could for the Agency’s benefit; something very dispassionate, very to the point, paring the horror of those months down to simple sentences like the one you gave as an example. He probably wrote it with a bit of dissociation, maybe something like, “Sex personnel at Cyclone are controlled by the usage of XRT-330, a powerful narcotic which directly affects the central nervous system, drastically increasing libido while simultaneously removing all inhibitions. The drug is highly addictive, which makes it an effective means of control, dissuading any thoughts of escape.” before turning his attention to explaining about Aleixo in the terms of an agent assessing Aleixo’s usefulness as an informant or prisoner of the Agency.

Shapiro references that, actually-- 

"I should think the report would suffice," Boyd said. 

"The aim of the report was the mission overview and includinginformation on Aleixo Forakis," Shapiro replied calmly. "As I'm sure you recall,you didn't include many details about your treatment itself. In order to properlyhelp you, it's important that I understand what you experienced. This will alsohelp me understand any reactions you may have. In addition, talking throughit can sometimes help you deal with the repercussions." 

"You don't need more details to know what happened. I was availablefor rent day and night and expanded my skills to marketing when Aleixo tookme in. The end."

Boyd gave next to no details about what actually happened to him in his official report to the Agency, because he didn’t want anyone to know. The report made it clear the sort of area he’d been held, the general sorts of things he’d been expected to do, the way Cyclone had controlled him and the others through Slide, and contained minimal explanation of how he had come to Aleixo’s attention in the first place (namely, through Aleixo’s nephew who was a guard on Boyd’s level, and who also had been in the vehicle when Boyd was picked up originally, and who had been intrigued by him since then). In the course of explaining Aleixo’s compound and the situation with his family and more, Boyd dispassionately referenced some limited aspects of what had been expected of him in his new position at Aleixo’s home but he didn’t go into details by any means.

The Agency did have some knowledge of what transpired beyond his report, because when he first returned he was still really fucked up and he said and did things in his rehab which gave them an idea of some of it. Aleixo likely also provided some context of the sort of thing that happened in general or some of what happened directly to Boyd, in whatever conversations arose during his interrogation and/or assessment from the Agency, but the Agency would have been more focused on how to use Aleixo than they would have been on finding out details of Boyd’s experience. 

Boyd never told even Shapiro the extent of what had happened, but of all the people on compound Shapiro had the best idea. Because he was the sort of doctor who took patient confidentiality very seriously even in a twisted setting like the Agency, Shapiro never fully detailed everything told to him to the Agency, but he did provide some of the additional details in order to explain or emphasize differences in Boyd’s behavior upon his return, and warnings about what may trigger Boyd unnecessarily which could detract from his use as an agent. 

The mission report Hsin saw likely would have been the one Boyd wrote with minimal details as to the exact specifics of what happened. I’m not sure if he also gained access to Shapiro’s notes as well; he might have, at which point he would have gotten more context and more depth. No one but Boyd knows all the specifics, however, and those details will remain untold most likely. The absolute last thing Boyd ever wants is for Hsin to know more about what happened -- to learn about the things Boyd hated so much he never wanted anyone to know. 

Or maybe a better way of saying it is that Boyd distrusts everyone with the knowledge of details because he thinks they’ll use it against him, except his friends who he doesn’t want to know because he finds it humiliating, and especially except Hsin because he knows those details, that knowledge, will hurt Hsin. Even knowing as much as he does, Hsin had a breakdown. Boyd probably doesn’t specifically know that but he would guess it would affect Hsin greatly to have known even as much as he put into the mission report. And Boyd purposefully kept out the worst parts in his mission to the Agency as well as his discussions with Shapiro where possible, and Shapiro respected Boyd’s privacy by not reporting every detail he was told. Which means Hsin knows enough to know what happened and to have been devastated and infuriated by it, but not so much he has to be plagued by the details of what exactly occurred the entire time. 

As a side note -- The person aside from Boyd who knew the most is probably Aleixo. Whereas Boyd kept the details close to his heart to protect himself and his loved ones, if Aleixo had ever been within hearing distance of Hsin and knew what Hsin was to Boyd, he would have reveled in the chance to list in excruciating detail everything he did and had done to Boyd just to see Boyd in pain, to see the panic and fear and hatred in his eyes, knowing Hsin would learn all the things Boyd didn’t want him to learn. He would enjoy the idea of trying to destroy their relationship or at least the ease of it. He would want to see Hsin look at Boyd in a different way. Probably Hsin would just get pissed at Aleixo and not treat Boyd any differently, but Aleixo would want to destroy what they have, and even if Hsin didn’t react the way Aleixo wanted, it would be enough to Aleixo to violate that last bit of privacy Boyd had, to try to twist the knife in deeper and hurt him in all the ways he knows how. No matter how Hsin responded, Boyd would still react with panic, and that distress and visceral pain would make it worth it to Aleixo. 

I actually kind of wanted that to happen, tbh -- I wanted to find a way to have Aleixo and Boyd meet back at the Agency, to see if they could have a conversation whether or not Hsin was around. I even started to write a side story where I could show Boyd and Aleixo having to interact before the whole Danny thing was resolved, with Hsin nowhere around--just them, Aleixo trying to take control and Boyd finding a way to fight his former captor. It didn’t work out, though--there wasn’t really a good place to put it, and it didn’t really make sense for them to find a way to meet, and I didn’t really like the story I’d started to write, so I had to leave it without that interaction. 

But I wanted to include that side note in case for some reason someone ever reads this who is planning some fanfic or something, and they were trying to think of things likely to happen. Just an FYI to that sort of person or sense of curiosity: Aleixo would want to take control back from Boyd and fuck him over with it however possible as a means of revenge and to force him back down in his mind to the servitude Aleixo believes he deserves, because he’s resentful and angry of Boyd and wants to hurt him for destroying Aleixo’s life. Damaging the relationship that let Boyd complete the mission would be a poetic way to do so from his point of view, because it would be a way of taking the last sense of freedom away from Boyd even if Aleixo himself was imprisoned and Boyd was able to walk free. If that makes sense.

Anyway hopefully that answers your question... I rambled like hell, as usual. Sorry ^^; 

20. “Grand Theft Cauldron”

Session 20, June 4, 2017

Word count:  4,467

In-Game Dates: Friday, June 18, 2021 and Saturday, June 19th, 2021

In which the group plans and executes a break-in, and everything goes surprisingly well.

I. Morning Ritual Interrupted

Friday morning starts much as the rest of the week has:  the lazy quiet broken only by Val’s caffeinated chatter. This morning, Saber joins the others in the living room; his arm is back to normal, although he reports that his energy level will probably never quite recover from the near-brush with the death seal.  Everyone else talks strategy as they try to motivate themselves for either breakfast or more coffee.  The only one missing from the group is Caster, who has spent most of the night in his workshop as usual.

Just as Siobhan and Jim are making their way toward the kitchen to start breakfast, Dimitri barrels into the living room.  The two Masters pull up short at the wild-eyed look on his face.

“We have a problem!” the translator announces.

“Is this DEFCON Five?  Or DEFCON One?”  Val asks. The rest of the room starts blankly at him.  Val huffs. “You’re American, right?  DEFCON One is the really bad one?”

Dimitri nods slowly, clearly surprised to hear the reference in Val’s Italian accented voice.

Jim shakes his head.  “Whatever that means… Did we lose the data?”

“No,” France replies, although the strain in his voice does nothing to alleviate the group’s worry.  He emerges from the hallway behind Dimitri, carrying the laptop.  “There’s a deadline.”

A beat of silence, then everyone is talking at once.  What does he mean, a deadline?  Did they pass it already?  The Servants surely would know, wouldn’t they?  Would they die?  What sort of deadline?

Dimitri holds up his hands for silence, and when it is mostly granted, he tries to explain.  Vasilyevich built in something like a magical dead-man’s switch:  regardless of the amount of energy in the Grail, regardless of the number of Servants left, it is set to go off after a certain amount of time, no matter what.  It will simply use whatever power it has to melt down.

“So when is it?” Jim asks.

“The full moon,” Dimitri replies.

Assassin tips her head back and groans.  “The summer solstice.  Of course.”

“When is that?” Val asks, already pulling out his phone to find the answer.

“Monday.”

“Great,” Jim says morosely, shaking his head, “we have three days to disarm it or we’re all screwed.”

“I’m calling Orsino,” Val announces.

The group agrees, so Val takes a seat in the living room as Jim and Siobhan somberly return to making breakfast and Assassin and Lancer peer over France’s shoulder for a more thorough explanation of the dead-man’s switch.

When Orsino picks up the phone, his greeting is more tepid than usual.  “I’m afraid I have no news for you, Valentin. I remain unable to get an audience with the people I need to speak with in order to get your Servants inside.”

“Well, padre, I’ve got great news for you,” Val chirps, “and by great news, I mean we’re fucked.”

Silence on the other end, then Orsino can be heard audibly gulping something down.  “Rider anticipated that I would need coffee for this.  Go ahead.”

Val explains the deadline the best that he can, with a few details passed along from the Servants as he goes.  “So yeah, in short, if we don’t kill that thing by Monday, everything goes kaboom.”

Orsino hums in agreement.  “We would be a little bit fucked, wouldn’t we?”

“Like I said,” Val agrees.  “We have a plan, but it hinges on getting our Servants inside that boundary field.  I know you said you haven’t gotten anything yet…”

“Perhaps you can explain a little more about what you plan to do,” Orsino requests.  “If I have more details, my request might sound a little more believable.”

In the absence of his own Servant, Val motions Assassin to take over the call. She does, and explains that their plan involves swapping something that it conceptually and magically similar to the Grail into the place of the real thing, and then removing the actual Grail from the center of power to try and get it away before it explodes.

“If we do it right,” she glances at Lancer, and at Caster, who has just emerged from his workshop, “then it will not explode at all.”

Orsino thinks for a moment, then replies, “I may have some ideas about where to find a similar item such as you described, although you will probably need to retrieve it yourselves.  Give me a few hours, and let me get back to you.  Oh, and, is that other Servant there?  Valentin’s, I mean?”

Caster pipes up, “I am.”

There is a smile in Orsino’s voice as he says, “I’ll leave it to you to explain this plan to Rider.  You seem to enjoy a good jest.”

Caster laughs.  “Sounds good to me.”

II. The Waiting Game

After breakfast, the group splits up to pass the time until Orsino calls them back.

Jim sits down to research Voidcalling.  His experience in studying for the Clock Tower entrance exams is helpful in this regard:  he has learned to track down sources and read between the lines, but most of all, he is persistent.

Over the next several hours, he learns that “Void creatures” are what most people classify as “demons”:  the cloaked shadow creatures seem to be common foot-soldiers, and they seem to come in a variety of strengths.  Recalling how easily the group defeated those enemies the last time they faced them, Jim figures that although Emil probably underestimated the group’s strength, that does not mean he cannot send something significantly more powerful.

Other Void creatures include things like frogs made of elemental fire:  they can inflict a burning rot on anyone they touch, and they use the fires they set to spawn more of their number.  The category also includes a variety of other “elementals”.

In all this research, Jim is struck by the realization that fae are nowhere on any list of Void-associated creatures.  As he considers this, he recalls that Reines herself is also a summoner. Further inquiry into summoning traditions suggests that families of summoners tend to have hereditary contracts or connections with summoned beings; he wagers that it is likely due to family history that Emil could summon the Faery that Caster fought.

Meanwhile, Val has convinced Saber to help teach him something about sword-fighting.

“Come on!  I only know stage-fighting; I don’t want to just be swinging a tree-branch around wildly!”

It is not until Caster points out that others can get a good bout of entertainment from the scene that Saber finally assents.  Caster employs Lancer’s help to whip up a spell of unnoticeability around the too-small backyard, and for the next several hours, Saber uses Val as a practice dummy for getting his own sword arm back.  He does manage to give Val a few pointers, particularly on defense, but most of the time is spent entertaining their audience.  Val does not mind.

Inside the house, seated next to Jim on the couch, Assassin once again goes over the plans that they formulated for removing the Cauldron from the Grail system. The first step will be to drain off the excess power that it has charged up; they can then swap the real Cauldron out of the leylines and put a fake Grail in its place to prevent backlash. After that, all that is left is to activate the magic circle to dissociate the Cauldron from the ritual.

There is only so much she can do off-site, but she does what she can:  to make the switch work, the replacement must be conceptually and magically convincing.  Assassin spends the next few hours mentally reconstructing what the Cauldron of Rebirth would look like physically, but more importantly than that, she focuses on building a template of its magical footprint.  With Siobhan’s help, she works out several inherent properties and the general feeling of its aura.  By the time Val comes back inside with the phone call from Orsino, Assassin is confident in her ability to impart the presswork onto their replacement Grail item.

III. Forming a Plan

It is around lunchtime when Orsino calls back.  Val returns from his “training” and motions for everyone to gather around.  Once on speaker, Orsino explains his findings:

Southwest of the Colosseum stands the large Palatine Hill, the centermost of Rome’s Seven Hills.  This is where the ancient Roman upper crust built their homes – massive palaces, the ruins of which can still be seen scattered across the hill.  Set somewhere in the middle of the hill, built on the foundation of one of those palaces, is a small historical and cultural museum called “Museo Palatino” – Palatine Museum.  Contained within, Orsino says, are many ancient artifacts excavated from the hill over the centuries.

“They date from the correct era,” he explains to the increasingly excited group, “so it will probably be a good place to find a cauldron-like object.  I have no doubt that they will have several artifacts that will meet your requirements.”

“Thanks, Orsino,” Assassin replies warmly.  “You are a lifesaver.”

“Think nothing of it,” he responds, “and I will keep trying to make progress on getting you in.  Good luck!”

No sooner have they hung up than Siobhan and Lancer are heading toward the door.

“We’ll go scout,” Siobhan explains, “while they’re still open to tourists. We’ll let you know what we find, and we can break in after dark!”

When they return a few hours later, they report on their findings.  With a plan formulated, the only thing left to do is wait until dark.  Caster holes himself up in his workshop to construct his newest identity, while the others go about things that involve considerably less effort.

Day passes into evening and evening into night.  When Caster finally emerges, he is wearing a full suit of matte silver armor. Val pokes it; it crinkles.

“Is that… papier-mâché?”

Caster huffs.  “Quiet, Sancho.  Now come! Let us venture forth, righting old wrongs and reclaiming lost artifacts!”  He brandishes a cardboard sword and marches toward the door.

Lancer and Siobhan watch him with identically tilted heads.  Siobhan turns to Jim.  “D’you have any idea who he is this time?”

Jim shrugs.  “If I had to guess, I’d say a piñata.”

IV. On the Approach

The group heads off to the museum at around 11PM.  Most of them are along for the adventure; Siobhan is staying behind with the hackers to hold down the fort in case anything goes wrong.  Jim and Val are in their own forms, visible but trying to stay out of sight.  The Servants are all incorporeal.

Several hours after closing, museum grounds are pretty much deserted.  The hill is covered in old ruins, some of the upper-crust’s palatial homes and baths, others of old temples and shrines to the gods.  Approaching cautiously and quietly, the group can see why Orsino thought this a likely location to find a suitable artifact.

As the doors come into sight, Archer pings Jim.  “I’m going to find a perch,” he murmurs, “Up on one of those tall ruins should do fine.  Yell if you need me, and I’ll yell if anything looks suspicious.”

The Masters find a hiding spot behind some rubble and observe for a few moments.  The front entrance has a keypad to open it and a single guard; after a few minutes, he taps out a code on the keypad and enters the museum, replaced by a different guard.  A third marches past on patrol.  Val curses under his breath; security here seems a little tighter than they expected, and these guards do not appear to be easily distracted.

Caster and Assassin prowl around the building, searching for another entrance. There is one:  a service entrance in the back, protected by another guard, a keypad, and a camera.  Caster relays this to Val, grumbling.  Assassin locates a power box on the outside of the building; she relays to Jim that they could use it to cut power for a time if they need to confuse physical and electronic security with a sudden outage.  However, she advises that they save that as a last resort option; doing that will almost certainly alert the guards to a problem.

They convene back at the ruins where their Masters are hidden and discuss options. Assassin rejects the suggestion of using the Mists to create foggy terrain, but Caster points out that he can do that just as well.  They agree that obscuring the guards’ vision is the best first step, so Caster makes his move, summoning an illusory thick fog to slowly cover the area immediately around the museum.  He then slips incorporeal through the door so he can let them in from the other side.

Jim strikes next.  Using the fog as cover, he sneaks up behind the guard at the door.  He clasps his hands together and, using his height and strength to his advantage, he clubs the guard over the head.  The man goes down like a sack of potatoes; Jim catches him before he hits the ground and drags him backwards into the fog.

After stowing the unconscious guard between some rocks, Val and Jim approach the front door and tap until Caster opens it.  Together, the two Masters plus Assassin slip into the museum.  Lancer and Saber station themselves outside, in view of the back door just in case.

V. Night at the Museum

While scouting earlier that day, Lancer had identified four candidates for decoy artifacts; now, she guides the group to each of them using Saber’s connection to Val as a transmission point.

The first artifact is not far from the entrance.  The group sneaks down the hall, past two enormous statues and a table describing ancient painting tools, until they come to the first corner.  The object in question is a cracked vase in a glass box.  The sign explains its origin in 12th century Rome.  Assassin frowns.  She could use it, she thinks, but it would take a lot of effort to ensure that it would hold together through the ritual.  She catches Jim’s eye, shakes her head, and moves along.

Slightly further down the hallway is a door.  Following instructions from Lancer, they rattle the handle to enter, but it is locked.  Jim drops to one knee and pulls a ring of picks from his pocket.  At Val’s curious glance, he shrugs and whispers, “You grow up in the slums, you learn how to do these things.”

The door swings open to a suite of rooms filled with antique household equipment. They step inside but pause at the sound of footsteps coming from another room in the suite.  The Masters duck into the shadows as Assassin slips ahead to check it out.

Two rooms beyond where they entered, she finds a guard checking his cell phone, humming quietly to himself.  She silently materializes behind him and, imitating Jim, clubs him over the head with clasped hands.  Unfortunately, although she is a Servant, she lacks her Master’s size and strength; instead of being knocked out immediately, the man just wobbles and emits a confused noise.  His daze lasts long enough for Jim to turn the corner and clock him properly. Assassin shrugs apologetically as Jim just rolls his eyes.

As the two Masters rifle through the guard’s pockets for his keys and muscle him underneath a table, Assassin begins to look for the next artifact.  As she approaches the table that Lancer described, movement catches her eye, and she turns.  Nothing.  Only two stone statues, standing watch over the room where she found the guard.

Noticing her confusion, the others move to investigate.  Jim examines the stonework on the statues and points something out to Caster:  one of the two is aged and crumbling, while the other looks quite well-preserved.

“Keep an eye on this one,” Caster advises through the ridiculous papier-mâché bucket helmet.  “It might be going places.”

The second artifact is a well-preserved cooking pot, forged of bronze and covered in elaborate carvings.  Assassin can tell immediately that it is in much better condition than the chipped vase.  She relays this to the rest of the group, and they decide to keep it in mind but to locate the other two options just in case.

The door on the other side of the suite is still open from when the guard entered.  Unfortunately, their luck ends there:  a grid of lasers bars the way down the hall.  Caster sees them first and waves for the group to go back the way they came.  They exit back into the first hallway and lock the door behind them using the guard’s keys.

VI. The Golden Helmet of Mambrino

A little further down the hall is another door, also closed.  Caster takes point this time, dropping his physical form to slip through the door incorporeal to investigate.

In the center of the large room stands a large glass case, which houses a pristine gold-plated bowl with a wide rim and a single handle on the side.  The sign reads “Imperial Chamberpot:  Used by Emperor Nero, and remarkably well-preserved.”

The part of Caster’s mind that is still Merlin recognizes it as a powerful artifact.

The part governed by Don Quixote decides that it must be a helmet, mislabeled and displayed upside down.

He steps back into the hallway and reclaims corporeality with a flourish, declaring, “The Golden Helmet of Mambrino has been rediscovered!  Quickly, open the door, that we might reclaim it!”

Assassin slips through to investigate while Jim uses the guard’s keys to unlock the door.  “Huh,” she grunts as they enter.

“What is it?”  The Masters ask, approaching to read the sign over her shoulder.

“Probably not actually the Imperial Chamberpot, unless Nero was in the habit of using enchanted artifacts to carry his waste.  Which is… not something I want to consider right now.  At any rate, this will do well for our purposes.”

Val examines the case closely, humming in thought.  “It’s on a pressure sensor, and the glass case is held down magnetically…”

“… But if we cut the power, the magnets and any alarms would disengage,” Jim continues, “but chances are, there’s a backup generator somewhere, and we’d have to do something about that sensor.”

“Fear not!”  Caster exclaims.  “I have a solution!”

He removes his helmet, revealing the face of an elderly Spanish man.  Val claps his hands in delight and recognition. Caster hefts his papier-mache helmet in his hands, frowns at the lack of weight, and sets about collecting silverware from around the room to make up the difference.

The plan is set:  one of the Servants stationed outside can kill the power, Jim can lift the glass, and Caster will perform the helmet swap.

“Hey Saber,” Val calls, speaking aloud as well as mentally calling his other Servant, “Do you want to do something illegal?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“See that box on the side of the building?  I need you to cut the power.  Can you do that?”

“…That’s not as bad as I was expecting.  There is still a guard patrolling… Lancer?  You’re better at sneaking around than I am. Would you…?”

“Tell her not to kill him!”

Through their connection, Val hears Lancer make an offended noise before slipping away to knock the guard out.  A moment later, Saber asks, “Are you ready?”

Val passes the question to the group, then replies to Saber, “Ok, go!”

The few lights that can be seen go out, leaving the group with only their flashlights as illumination.  “There is a timer here… it says you have 60 seconds until the backup generation kicks in.  56… 55…”

“Alright, alright,” Val mutters as everyone flies into motion, “you don’t have to provide a countdown.  Go, team, go!”

The plan goes off without a hitch:  Jim hoists the glass up long enough for Caster to grab the chamberpot and swap in the loaded helmet.  After ensuring that the weight is correct, Caster dons the pot like a helmet as Jim carefully replaces the case.

When he turns around, he is surprised to see Caster mounted on an old nag of a pony.  Val gasps dramatically, a look of hopeful wonder on his face.  “Can I be on a donkey?”

Caster sighs just as theatrically, but with a wave of his hand summons a bedraggled burro for his excitable Master. Val springs onto the back of the beast as affectionately pats its neck.  “Ah, mounted on the ass of my dreams, at last!”

Assassin and Jim groan loudly as they follow the mounted pair into the hallway to make their escape.

This part of the plan, however, does not go as smoothly as they would like.  The moment they step back into the hallway, loud banging can be heard from the other side of the door they had locked earlier. Whatever stands on the other side clearly cannot get through, but the scrape of stone-on-stone from the other end of the hall catches their attention.

The beam of Jim’s flashlight reveals a statue displaced:  one of the guardians from the front door has moved itself to block their path.  With another stone scraping sound, it plants tis feet and lowers its bronze spear to point at the group.

“Fear not!”  Caster declares again.  Summoned lance in hand, he kicks his nag into a sad attempt at a gallop.  “I shall handle this beast!”

“At least it isn’t a windmill…” Jim mutters as Val summons a tree branch and follows his Servant down the hall.

The blows glance off the magically hardened stone.  The statue takes its own swing at Caster and looks as surprised as a hunk of rock can be when the Servant blocks its strike.  After a few seconds of watching the exchange, Assassin decides to mind the countdown that Saber had provided.

She sighs, calls out, “Duck!” and flings a dagger.  It sails past the battling pair and embeds into the eye of their opponent.

The statue’s remaining eye blinks slowly.  Its free hand reaches toward the hilt of the dagger, already dissolving into magic… and with a final creak, it falls.

“Be ready for a fight from the other one,” Assassin reminds them as she sweeps past.

Blessedly, the other statue at the door turns out to be completely immobile. Val pokes it with his stick just in case before rushing out the door to follow the rest of the group.  They meet up with the other three Servants far enough away from the building to be out of sight of any security responders.  The outside team has some questions, particularly about the brief battle and why on earth Caster is wearing a chamberpot on his head.  Assassin assures them – with a poisonous glare at Caster – that he will return it in time for the ritual.

Safe and sound back home, the away team answers another round of questions before the Masters settle in for the night and the Servants set to work with some final preparations.

VII. Good News and Bad Ideas

Saturday morning starts off with a phone call from Reines, straight to Jim this time instead of through Val as usual.

“So you wanted to bypass the bullshit?” Jim asks as he answers.  “Good morning, Reines.”

“Good morning, Jim,” she replies, “and yes, I did.  I also wanted to thank you for tipping Granny off about Rhongomyniad.”

“Oh?”

“I spoke with her last night regarding the connection between it and the Lance of Longinus – the spear that pierced Jesus on the cross.  The Lance is a sacred artifact to Christianity, and I’d heard rumors that the Church had secured it, or a part of it.”

“Did you find it?”

“Perhaps,” she sighs, sounding more uncertain than hedging.  “There are many possible locations where it could be held, but… The Vatican itself is one of the more commonly cited ones.  It took pulling some strings, but I finally got the closest thing they’ll give me to a confirmation of its whereabouts:  the Basilica of Saint Peter, where the Pope delivers public addresses.”

“That’s right next to Saint Peter’s Square,” Jim realizes aloud.  “Where all the leylines meet.”

“Possibly, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“We’ve determined that that’s the most likely location of the Grail,” Jim explains.

Reines hums.  “If the Lance is nearby and you have someone who can make use of it – perhaps Rider, whoever he is, or Lancer – then perhaps it will do you some good.  Do you have a plan yet?”

Jim fills her in quickly on the task at hand:  drain the energy, disconnect the Grail from the leylines, shove in a replacement, disarm the destructive device.  He also fills her in on the knowledge about the deadline.

“The only trouble is getting our Servants inside,” he explains.  “We haven’t had any luck with that so far; Orsino can’t authorize it, and Rider is the only Servant who can move freely inside the Vatican, but he doesn’t have the magical aptitude to pull this off. We’re stuck.  If we can’t get into the Vatican by Monday, there’s going to be a whole lot of earth-shattering kaboom.”

“Alright, alright,” she sighs again.  “Let me think…  Is Val’s Servant there?”

Jim motions for Caster to come over and puts the phone on speaker.  “Yeah.”

“Could you tell me again the condition of the warehouse, where you suspected that Rhongomyniad had been used?”

Caster thinks for a long moment before replying, “After a hit from the weapon, magic was largely purged from the area, and became difficult to perform there.  The cage of mana that I had created was destroyed, and the foul beast kept within had been banished.”

“And what of the boundary field that you put up?”

“It was…” Caster stops, blinking rapidly as Reines’s plan begins to dawn on him. “It was gone.”

“Do you have anything in your arsenal that can take out a boundary field?”

“I do not.”

“From your exchanges with Val,” Reines says lightly, “you seem to be quite good at goading people.  If you have nothing that can break a boundary field, and your opponent does…”

Caster sighs.  “I take your meaning and will consider your suggestion.”

“That’s all I ask.  Meanwhile, I’ll see what I can do about getting you other options.  Take care.”

Once she has hung up, the others turn to stare at Caster.  He shakes his head sharply.  “I could, in theory, goad the Black Knight into using Rhongomyniad against the Vatican’s boundary field.  I don’t relish the idea of putting myself in the path of a magic-busting weapon, but it is an option.”

“Do we tell Val?” Jim asks.

“No!”