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#I want to make him into a badge but I’ve barely sold any of my other items
funfetti-art · 2 years
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This weeks been testing me so here’s a sad clown
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Day 1: Height
Summary: 
Every year Donald measures the boy's heights and every year it's the same result, they're exactly the same. This year, however, the results aren't quite what Huey's expecting.
Ao3: [link]
Pairing: none
Words: 1970
A/N: This was written for @hueyweek2020 and while it did end up being a bit more sibling-centric than Huey centric I still enjoyed writing it.
         “Why is Donald still measuring all of us, we haven’t been different heights like, ever.” Louie frowned, obviously trying to get out of the five minutes it would take to make three identical marks on one of the house boat’s doorframes.
It was exactly halfway between their eleventh and twelfth birthday and Donald insisted on measuring their heights on the same day every year.
“Louie it only takes five minutes, just do it.” Huey told his youngest brother. He was already standing next to the door frame to be measured first.
“I’m just saying, we could just measure Dewey three times and get the same results.” Louie stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket but stood next to Dewey anyway as Donald came back with a marker.
“Okay, stand up straight.” He informed Huey, who took off his hat and straightened his shoulders.
Donald flattened out the feathers on top of Huey’s head and made a mark an inch above the mark from last year, writing Huey’s first initial next to the line. 
Huey stepped away and looked back up at Donald just in time to see him beginning to tear up at the sight of the height difference. He let out a sigh as he put his hat back on.
“Uncle Donald, remember the promise about waiting to cry until after we’re finished?” Huey reminded their uncle, and he sniffed deeply, nodding his head.
“Okay, Dewey, you’re next.” Donald said through a thick voice. Huey moved to sit at the breakfast bar to be out of the way while his brothers were measured.
“Actually, can I go last, Uncle Donald?” Dewey asked. “I’ve got a good feeling about this year. I think it will be a real showstopper and I wouldn’t want Louie to get forgotten in the moment.”
Donald was left surprised as Louie rolled his eyes.
“Oh yeah, of course you wouldn’t want that to happen.” He said dryly, but still made his way over to the door frame. He made a show of straightening out of his annoyed hunch, hands dropping out of his pocket and to his side as he straightened out.
“Louie, stand up straight.” Donald informed him just for the youngest duckling to let out a huff.
“I am standing straight, uncle Donald.”
“Oh.” He heard Donald say and narrowed his eyes up at his uncle while Huey looked on in confusion.
The sound of the marker scratching against wood sounded around the room and as soon as Donald moved his hand away Louie whipped around to look at the marks. Sitting just over a centimetre below the mark next to Huey’s initial was a brand-new mark, ink still wet. Dewey leaned over Louie’s shoulder to see it, his own eyes wide as well and heard the creaking of Huey’s seat as he stood up on it to see the mark on the wall.
“Wait-” Louie started before doing a double take. “What?”
“I’m finally taller!?” Huey asked cheerfully before he caught sight of the torn expression on Louie’s face. He quickly sat back in his seat, schooling his expression into a sympathetic smile. “I mean, not that it matters. Heights can fluctuate, after all. I imagine that we’ll be the same height again by our birthdays.”
Louie’s frown turned to a scowl as quick as he heard the words. “Oh, don’t pretend you’re not ecstatic that you’re finally taller than us.” He bit out in a dry tone, his shoulder’s slouching once more as he shoved his hands back into his pocket.  
“Well, I mean, we don’t know that he’s taller than me yet.” Dewey chimed in before Huey could reply and the oldest triplet’s eyes went to his immediate younger brother. The expression on Dewey’s face was almost smug, and Huey narrowed his eyes in response, growing suspicious of Dewey’s sudden decision to go last.
“Alright, Dewey, you’re up then.” Donald told him, and Dewey ran up to the wall.
Donald moved in front of Huey’s line of sight to the mark being made, pressing down on Dewey’s feathers to make the line as precise as possible.
He left out a quiet, “Uh oh,” before he nudged Dewey out of the way. He took his time labeling the marks and adding their age next to each one before he moved out of the way, revealing to a shocked Huey and Louie that Dewey’s mark was not only above Louie’s, but about a centimetre above Huey’s as well.
“Yes! I knew I’d be taller this year!” Dewey shouted victoriously while Huey stared on with a shocked expression.
“Wait- What? How are you taller than me?” Huey shouted. He jumped off his chair, pushing Dewey out of the way to see the marks more clearly. “That doesn’t make any sense!”
“It makes all the sense it has to. I’m taller cause I’m the clearly superior triplet.” Dewey boasted.
“Not that it matters, though, right, Huey? Heights can fluctuate, after all. We’ll probably all be the same height again by our birthdays.” He heard Louie speak up from behind him in a smug voice and he felt his feathers starting to bristle.
“Yeah, I’m sure you can catch up, little bro.” Dewey said in an equally as smug voice as he wrapped his arm around Huey’s shoulders.  
Huey clenched his fists at his side as he tried to remain calm, going stiff as he felt Dewey’s arm around him. He began counting in his head, trying to breath evenly but Dewey often didn’t know when to quit.
“Though, honestly, this is kinda making me wonder if you’re even actually the oldest after all and maybe I actually am. It’d make sense since I’m the tallest now.”
Huey tore his eyes away from the wall, spinning away from Dewey and shrugging off his arm in the process as he fixed his brother with a glare.
“Boys, boys, calm down. You weren’t all always going to be the same height. Your mother was taller than me by the time we were 13.” He took turns ruffling each of their heads, attempting to diffuse the situation.
“Isn’t mom still taller than you, though?” Dewey asked, attempting to fix his hair while holding eye contact with Huey who continued to seethe in his spot.
“Well, yes, but only by a few centimetres.” He informed them before he left the main room of the boathouse.
“Look, I don’t know how you managed this, but I’m going to figure out what you did to grow literally overnight.” Huey informed Dewey in a threatening voice before he made to leave. He turned back just briefly to look at Louie. “By the way, I said that to make you feel better, so thanks for throwing it back in my face.” Before he slammed the door to the boat behind him.
Louie turned to Dewey, an unimpressed look on his face. “Remember earlier how I said you were definitely going to regret this?” He asked, while all Dewey could do was look nervous.
––
Huey spent the next day obsessing over how Dewey might have managed to make himself grow taller overnight. Asking Scrooge if he had any magical growing artifacts, or anything of the like. He had tried to reach Gyro as well, but he hadn’t been able to get through any of the three times he called. A part of him was telling himself to let it go and that Dewey might have actually just gotten taller, but he had a nagging suspicion that they had definitely been at eye level just the day before.
It wasn’t until the next night while he was walking down the hallway to their room did he hear Louie and Dewey speaking to each other just inside.
“I still think I could have used the favour Gyro owed me for something better.” He heard Louie speak and he leaned forwards to hear better without being spotted.
“Yeah, well, you should have thought about that before you sold broke my camera.” Dewey replied. Huey leaned around the door, seeing Louie sitting on his bed while Dewey fidgeted with something on his leg. He looked back at Louie surprised to see the youngest looking directly at him and quickly moved away from the crack, expecting to be called out any moment.
Instead Louie continued speaking. “He’s going to find out eventually, y’know.”
“Not if I just keep this up forever.” Dewey replied and Huey looked back inside the room just in time to see Dewey remove what looked to be a duck-leg shaped shoe, leaving one of his legs shorter than the other. Huey’s eyes widened as he finally figured out how Dewey had managed to grow taller than him.
He stopped himself from bursting in, however, as Louie made eye contact with him again, just barely shaking his head, so Huey stayed put.
“Why is it so important that he thinks you’re taller than him?” Louie asked, and Huey looked back to Dewey who seemed almost dejected as he thought about his answer.
“He’s better than us at everything. Just once I wanted to be better than him at something, and this is the only thing I could think of that didn’t involve talent, or hard work, or, y’know, actually being better.” Dewey let out a sigh, taking the other shoe off and Huey took that as his queue to enter.
“Is that what you really think?” He asked, and Dewey nearly jumped a mile in the air. He turned quickly and tried to hide the shoes behind his back, but Huey wasn’t paying attention to those. “You think I’m better than you at everything? That’s not true, Dewey.”
Dewey’s surprised expression turned into a frown. “Of course, it is! You’re Mr. Junior Woodchuck, you have badges in everything. You’re better at adventuring, better at music, dancing, sports, school, and every subject at that! You’re a superhero’s sidekick, for crying out loud! You’re better than us at everything! So, I just wanted to have one thing, I just want to be taller, but I can’t even have that.”
Huey frowned at Dewey, taking in his words before his face twisted into confusion. “I’m- I’m good at those things because I try hard and practice, Dewey! Nothing- Nothing comes easy for me! You- Both of you,” He gestured to Louie who had been sitting quietly on the sidelines, “You’re both so talented and creative and imaginative and good at talking to people and making friends and I’m- I’m not. All I have is- is studiousness, and the ability to work hard. I’m not even good at being a big brother because I couldn’t just deal with the fact that one of my brothers was taller than me. I called Gyro three times you know? Now I guess I know why he was avoiding my calls.”
Huey sighed and looked to the floor, blinking his eyes quicker as he felt moisture gathering behind them. “I didn’t know you felt like that, though. And even if I was right, I should have just been okay with being shorter. It’s not a big deal, it wouldn’t change anything, just... being the oldest kind of feels like all I really have sometimes. I just- I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
Dewey looked taken aback by Huey’s confessions before he also frowned. “I didn’t know you thought that either.” He took the shoes out from behind his back and dropped them on the floor. “I’m sorry I went through so much just- just to prove I could be better than you at something. I just constantly feel like I’m in your shadow, I didn’t think that you’d have similar feelings.”
“Maybe it’s easier to see good qualities in others than it is to recognize them in yourself.” Louie piped up from the bed, both older brothers turning to him in surprise.
“What?” Dewey asked.
“That’s very insightful, Lou.” Huey commented.
“Don’t act so surprised.” He replied dryly, but there was a smile on his face. “Now are we done with this? We all know out self-worth?” The two older brothers nodded, and Louie leaned back on the bed. “Good, then we should probably go tell Uncle Donald that Dewey cheated, and I slouched so he can remeasure us.”
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punchdrunkdoc · 4 years
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The King: Eternal Monarch
What follows is a stream-of-consciousness, spoiler-filled bunch of thoughts and theories about TKEM, which I can’t stop obsessing over. I knew it was a mistake to start this show instead of waiting to binge it! It’s the first K-drama I’ve watched in ‘real time’ and the wait between episodes is KILLING ME!!
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Overall, though, I’m really enjoying this show. It’s right up my alley (which is why I couldn’t wait to start watching it): magical realism, parallel worlds, time travel, a dashing King and a capable, no-nonsense heroine. The plot is really intriguing and there have been some great twists and genuinely heart-pounding sequences so far. It’s also GORGEOUS to look at and there’s a great streak of humour.
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I admit I found the romance a bit lacking at the start. It felt a little rushed, to be honest. I could see why Gon would be instantly smitten with Tae-eul - she’s been in his head for 25 years and when he finally found her, she was smart, spunky and treated him in a refreshingly frank and ‘real’ way - so different from all the fawning adoration he was used to in Corea.
So the fact that it was Tae-eul who was the first to say ‘I love you’ was a little jarring and it seemed to come out of the blue. But I went back and binged just their scenes together for all 12 episodes, and I could see the connection better. 
She comes to realise that fate has dropped this guy in her lap - this amazing, smart, funny, handsome, rich, cool guy - and she also has the sense that it can’t end well between them. So, at first she retreats from him; when she’s in Corea the first time, she keeps asking to see her ID badge - the pretence for her being there and the only thing stopping her from leaving. It’s clear that she’s trying to protect herself. She doesn’t want to get too close to this guy when there is no future. So she leaves without giving him a sense that she returns his feelings in any deep way.
But then she can’t get him out of her head, and has weeks to think about how she left things with him and how she might never see him again (he did go off to battle after all). When he finally returns, and she sees him just standing there in her yard…she decides to go all in. “It is better to have loved and lost…” as the saying goes.
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And I like that this is where the show chose to go. It’s not a story about will they/won’t they. It won’t end with them declaring their love. They’ve already done that. This is a show about two people who desperately WANT to be together - and are really great together - but the universe is trying to tear them apart. And I’ve really enjoyed the scenes of them attempting to have a normal life - they’re so easy and natural together and the show has done such a good job, with relatively little screentime, of showing how well they work as a couple. They make each other laugh, they’re impressed by each other, and they can confide and support one another.
And that’s why these last few episodes have been so heartbreaking.
Lets talk about that scene in the bamboo forest, when they briefly reconnected. Tae-eul absolutely broke my heart in this moment. I do wish the show did a better job of conveying how much time passes between Gon’s visits - is it weeks, months?? - but even without a definite timescale, the actress absolutely sold that it had been a significant period of time and she missed him so, so much. It was beautifully done. And it did nothing to advance the plot - it was just a tiny moment to show how much these two love and miss each other. I’m glad the writers have remembered that this show is about the characters as much as its about the Lee Lim/murdering dopplegangers plot.
And then what about this:
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When I first saw it, I assumed Gon was crying with grief over his uncle. And I thought it was a nice way of calling back the conversation between PM Koo and Court Lady Noh - that Gon would never cry in front of Koo, proving that she is not the woman for him. But here he is shedding tears with Tae-eul, and bringing her flowers from across the universe.
But now that we know this is Gon from the future, his words and his tears have much, much more poignancy. It’s turned a sad scene into a gut-wrenching one. This felt very much like a last goodbye: bringing her the flowers he never brought, finally being able to tell her how much he loved her, and sharing one final kiss.
So what the hell has happened to this Gon? It appears that he loses Tae-eul at some point…either through her death or some other permanent separation. And why is he in that particular coat? I think it’s his wedding outfit (worn ‘at the most glorious moment’). We know he tends to get ahead of himself - she hasn’t agreed to marry him, but he’s already declared that she is the future Queen, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s already got the royal tailors working on his outfit!
But that brings me to the awful theory that he is marrying PM Koo in the future, which is why he feels the need to have a final moment of closure with Tae-eul. We know Koo has her eye on the crown, and its possible she blackmails him into marriage e.g. by threatening to expose the parallel world.
The other heartbreaking moment in this last episode was the photograph scene. Gon has already worked out that they can’t keep using the gateway between the worlds. Each time they do, time stops for longer and longer (I love that he is a mathematician, and his logical brain figures this stuff out so quickly. Its refreshing to have a lead who knows almost as much as the audience does and you’re not constantly waiting for him to catch up and clue in).  
So during this latest time-freeze, he can’t help but cry. It a lovely juxtaposition with the first time he’s with a motionless Tae-eul. Back then, he was full of wonder at the beauty of the moment. Now, it’s just a reminder that their time together is limited.
Each moment they share together is now touched with bittersweetness and an air of melancholy and its bloody PAINFUL to watch. The angst in this show is tearing my heart out!!
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This moment was a bit lighter, and I’m glad they’ve moved their relationship forward in this way. It was a bit ridiculous that they’re in love, finally together in the same world, they both know time is running out…and yet they’re still being so platonic! C’mon, I know this is a k-drama (which are super-PG)…but this was starting to stretch my credulity!
And…wild baseless theory coming up…could she be pregnant as a result?? The doctor made a point of saying she was on antibiotics (which stops birth control working) and there’s a tiny snippet in the trailer where she says ‘I think I’m-‘. So, my mind couldn’t help but go there! Because this show doesn’t have enough angst!!
(Extremely wild, baseless theory number 2…could yo-yo boy be their child? He belongs to both worlds, which would make sense if his parent were from both worlds too…and he has that connection with Luna…
No. I don’t like this theory at all, because he’s obviously not been raised with his parents which means a super-sad ending is coming. And he seems a bit more like a God-like character than a mortal boy, so I’m probably waaaay off track, and I really hope I am).
My last point (and, boy did this get long!) is that I struggle to see how the show can possibly tie everything up in just 4 episodes. We have Lee Lim’s plan that has barely come into play, all the dopplegangers to sort out, Shin-Jae’s background to explore, Lady Noh’s background (!), PM Koo’s ambitions, who saved 8-year old Gon, and of course, how Gon and Tae-eul will resolve their star-crossed lovers thing.
It’s either going to end tragically, or there’ll be loose ends…or they might be setting up a season 2. If that’s the case I’ll be PISSED! One of the reasons I became addicted to K-dramas is how they (usually) tell a complete story in 1 season. There’s a clear, satisfying ending and it doesn’t get dragged out for multiple years. 
There’s also the risk that there won’t BE a season 2. I gather the show is popular on Netflix, but I see things on twitter about it not doing well in South Korea. For such a lavish, expensive show, is a second season even guaranteed?
UGH, I need to have a happy ending guys!
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wayward-mikaelson · 4 years
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Come Back pt 5
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Word Count: 2130
Pairing: None
Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader, Shifter!Dean and Shifter!Reader
About: While working the shifter case with Dean, the Reader starts to pick up on a few odd things about him. The reader only brushes it off at regret for getting caught cheating. But things turn around when the readers gut instinct gets out of control.
Warnings: Language, Angst, Fighting, and Gore (blood)
18+ Content. You know the Drill. Keep Scrolling if you’re not 18+
A/N: Sorry if this is shorter. I knew it would be shorter but I tired to put as much as I could into it. Any guesses as to what happens? Again if you want to be tagged in the next one, let me know!!
The drive to the police station is silent. Dean tries to make small talk but I continue to shut him down. I'm not ready to talk to him yet. He made a huge douche bag move last night and I'm still trying not to kill him. I could have bailed on the case and gone back to the bunker or completely left and not come back. But after hanging out with Sam last night and laying next to him, I was beginning to about my feelings for Dean. I love him, but we never have actually said those words to each other. Dean and I were constantly having sex and on the nights we didn't, he barely wanted to hang out so I would hang in my room deep in my thoughts. Sam had every chance to get into my pants last night but, he didn't. He was there to comfort me and make sure I ate. He held me when I cried and the just held me. When earlier in the night I thought he was going to off himself for wanting a truce. Then the kiss on my head. That moment sparked something in me that I hadn't felt since Logan. Could I be falling for the younger Winchester?
"We're here," Dean parks the car in front of the station and looks at me. I look at him and see how tired he is.
"Did you even sleep last night?" I ask him pulling out my fed badge. "You look like hell."
"I feel like it. I threw back who knows how many shots until they kicked me out of the bar. Then this morning I find out that you changed room on us," Dean smiles wickedly. "I mean, on me. Because of course Sam knew."
I roll my eyes and get out of the Impala. "Oh for fucks sake," I say tucking my shirt into my pants and tossing my hair up. "Give it a rest. You cheated and you're jealous that your brother comforted me."
Dean gets out. "If you would have waited, we could have talked." Dean goes towards the trunk and opens it. I hear a frustrated sigh and some mumbling.
"What now?" I walk around the car to see Dean just staring at the weapons trunk. "Something wrong?" Dean has his hand balled into a fist.
He slams the trunk. "Theres a small sharp peice of metal on the lock. Got my finger."
That's weird, I think to myself. "There shouldn't be," I say following him into the station. "That's a brand new lock. Custom made out of pure silver."
"I know that!" Dean still sounds super annoyed. "Just forget it."
We walk through the station to the talk to the big wig aka the chief. While we talked to the chief about the case, I can't help but notice how Dean keeps his hand closed. He spoke to the chief in such a snarky way that I had to kick him out of the office just so I can finish talking. When I was finished talking, I thanked the chief for his time and made way to back to the Impala where Dean was laying back.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I get into the vehicle and smack dean with the files. "You're being such a dick today."
Dean sits up. "So. What."
I scoff. "Okay, you want to talk about what happened. Let's talk about what fucking happened."  I toss the files in the back seat and take the keys out of the ignition. Probably the worst idea I ever had. It was almost 95 outside and if I didn't make this fast, we would be sweating. In a not so sexy way.
"You kissed another woman," I say putting my head down. "And not only did you kiss her, you got real handsy with her. I killed me to the point that I contemplated your murder. When I changed rooms I wasn't expecting Sam to be there and be the comfort I needed and I'm glad he was because I don't think he would take kindly to me killing you. This morning seeing you made last night real all over again." Dean stares at me while I talk. "This whole thing has me thinking about if we just fuck buddies or trying to be in a relationship. If we are just fuck buddies, I'm done with it all. If not, then you have some serious thinking to do. So in the mean time, we need to spend time hanging out like going to dinners and drives and such without it ending in sex."
Dean nods his head and holds his hand out for the keys. "Okay," he says as I hand the keys back. "I'm sorry. I want you to know that."
"Don't say that anymore," I say looking out the window. "Show me. And just know I'm not some shiny toy that gets old after use. I'm a fucking goddess and you better treat me like one."
Dean smiles and grabs my hand and kisses it. Thats when I see the small burn mark. "Okay, Sam called by the way. He found a lead. Cabin in the middle of the woods. Wants us to check it out before heading back to the motel."
I agree. While we drive to that cabin I couldn't help but notice a few times that Deans eyes flash a different color. But I brush it over because part of me is still mad and I guess I'm still finding to be upset over. Deans eyes always changed shades in the sun if it hit it right.But that burn on his hand made my gut tell me that something was up. I shake my head again.
"Everything okay?" Dean asks me quickly looking at me. Again, a weird eye color change. My gut starts to scream at me.
"I'm going to call Sam," I say pulling my phone out. "Ask him how his talks went and see what he's up to." I hit send on his number and it goes straight to voice mail. Not odd or anything but my gut tightens. My gut hasn't been like this since discovering the signs that all pointed to Logan being a vampire. I don't leave a voice mail but send a text telling him about my gut feeling. Just as I was about to hit send, the service cuts out. "Shit," I hiss.
"Everything okay?" Dean asks making a turn onto a dirt road.
"The service is gone and something tells me that something isn't right." I look at Dean whos smiling at me. "What?" I look down to make sure my shirt was buttoned all the way. Sometimes a buttons pops and he likes to look at my boobs. Not that I was complaining.
"Oh sweetheart," He takes a hand and places it on my neck. "This was just too easy." Next thing I know, my head is being smacked onto the dash and passing out.
I wake up tied to a chair in an almost empty cabin. My head is throbbing like hell.  I look around to see Dean tied next to me. He's looking at me and with a battered face. He looks like hell.
"Are you okay?" He asks in a hushed whisper. "Those dicks came at me from behind the night we got here."
"What?" I ask. "Are you saying that you've been down here this whole time?"
"Yep," Dean says trying to yank. "Apparently the guy that runs the motel is also a shifter and sold us out." Dean stops tugging at the ropes. "Wait, what do you mean 'this whole time?' You didn't sleep with the one that looked like me did you?" Dean looks pissed off and I don't blame him. Someone using his body to do stuff. Kind of personal.
"No," I say tugging at my rope. "I caught shifter you, thinking it was you, kissing some blonde with red lips. I've been pissed about it all day. I thought you were off all day. Now that burn mark makes sense." I hang my hand.
The front door opens and I see Shifter!Dean and another shifter looking like me waltz in. "Oh look, you're awake," the shifter posing at me smiles. "This ought to be good as I sent an SOS to Sam not that long ago. He should be here soon and when he is well I guess we know where that will go."
I look to Dean who looks even more pissed. "Once I'm free," Dean says yanking on the rope again. "I'm going to kill you. Starting with the idiot that used me to hurt YN."
Shifter!Me kneels in front of Dean and takes a blade and runs it along his face. "Oh honey," she purrs. I feel a twinge of jealously as she puts her lips on his ear. "The both of us had a part in playing you."
"Why?" I ask. I needed her to pull away from Dean. "What made you change your game. No one died yet. We could have let you live. We just needed to see what the heck was going on behind leaving the body goop."
Shifter!Me turns to me and I see the same flash of different eye color in her eyes. "Really? You'd let us live?" She laughs. Does my laugh really sound like that? I think. "You're funny. The way we see it is when the Winchester boys and YN YLN stroll through town, the monster or monsters always die."
"But a small few are able to live in peace because of us," Dean says. "Theres a shifter that helps people heal after getting closure from a loved one. Theres a couple werewolves that live in peace eating animal organs and living a normal life. We knew of a few vampires that lived off animal blood. You could let us go and we'd leave you alone if you promise to clean up your mess and no people go missing and end up dead."
The two shifters looked at each other. Shifter!Dean looks at me and then Dean. "Who says we haven't killed anyone?" he asks. "This town is a hot spot for shifters to hid from hunters. We choose a poor victim and remove them and the shifter takes his or her place."
I stare at the shifters wide eyed. "So anyone in this town is a shifter?"
"Yep!" Shifter!Me says happily getting up.
Car door closes outside. I'm about to yell something when Shifter!Dean gags both Dean and I. Shifter!Me walks outside and I can hear talking. They come back in and I'm happy to see Sam. He looks around at both Dean and I. Theres anger and questioning in his eyes. I try my damnedest to yell through the gag. I even add some thrashing around.
"Try not to listen to that one," Shifter!Me says. "She's tried to convince Dean that she's the real deal.
"How'd you guys get them?" Sam asks. "The Dean one looks like he put up a hell of a fight." I continue to yell and thrash around. Sam looks at me and kneel in front of me. He takes the gag off. "What do you have to say?"
"Don't listen to her, man," Shifter!Dean says. "She could lie or something. They killed some town folk. They have to put down."
"Yeah, Sam," Shifter!Me says walking towards me with the silver blade in her in hands. "Shes gotta be put down."
"Guys, shut up," Sam snaps at the shifters. "Just let me hear what she has to say." He turns back to me.
"Sam," I whisper. "They are the shifters. Me and Dean, we are real. Human. The Dean shifter has a burn on his hand from touching the lock on the weapons trunk. You have to believe me. I wouldn't lie."
Sam looks me in the eyes. He looks down and towards Shifter!Dean and spies the burn on his hand. "Okay," Sam whispers. "I'll figure something out. Just hand tight." Sam gets up and the moment he turns around, Shifter!Me throws Sam aside.
"I told you she's gotta be put down," she growls. She marches towards me and grabs my shoulder and thrusts the blade into me.
I look down to see the red blossom of blood flow from my stomach. I don't feel the pain just yet, just the thick, warm wetness trickling down my stomach to my side. From the corner of my eye, I see Dean finally break free from his bindings. Sam gets up and runs towards me. He cuts me loose to lay me down and presses his hand on the wound. That's when I start to feel the pain. I scream out but Sams soothing voice calms me.
Soon, I heart two bodies hit the ground. I close my eyes and know that it's over. I'll be home soon.
@donnaintx​ @myinconnelly1​ @elansaidaris​ @magssteenkamp​ @squirrelnotsam​
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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years
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Written In The Stars XXII (Harry Potter xFem!Oc)
A/N: My uni is really out there asking me to write formally like I’m so kind of scholar, thank god they can’t see me cry about it– But! luckily dear Mel is having a much lovelier time, this is sort of a ‘break’ from emotional madness that Mel always carries around lmao enjoy!
Words: 1,930
Warnings: None!
Series’ Masterlist
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Chapter Four: A Lovely Morning.
"So - what's the story, Harry?" said Ron impatiently. "What's been happening?"
Harry told them all about Dobby, the warning he'd given Harry and the fiasco of the violet pudding. There was a long, shocked silence when he had finished.
"Very fishy," said Fred finally.
"Definitely dodgy" agreed George. "So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting all this stuff?"
"I don't think he could," said Harry. "I told you, every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall... What, you think he was lying to me?"
"Well," said Fred, "put it this way - house-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their master's permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you coming back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?"
"Yes," said Harry and Ron together.
"Now boys," Mel sighed, "you can't possibly be thinking of that idiot, who has the time for something as stupid as that?
"Draco Malfoy has it," Harry turned to the twins, "He hates me."
"Draco Malfoy?" said George, turning around. "Not Lucius Malfoy's son?"
"Must be, it's not a very common name, is it?" said Harry.
"I've heard Dad talking about him," said George. "He was a big supporter of You-Know-Who."
"And when You-Know-Who disappeared," said Fred, "Lucius Malfoy came back saying he'd never meant any of it. Load of dung - Dad reckons he was right in You- Know-Who's inner circle."
"I don't know whether the Malfoys own a house-elf," said Harry.
"Well, whoever owns him will be an old wizarding family, and they'll be rich," said Fred.
"Yeah, Mum's always wishing we had a house-elf to do the ironing," said George. "But all we've got is a lousy old ghoul in the attic and gnomes all over the garden. House-elves come with big old manors and castles and places like that; you wouldn't catch one in our house..."
Did Erick have one? Now that she thought about it, Mel didn't know a lot about his life outside school, of course, she knew he didn't like to travel and that he was a pureblood, but nothing else.
"I'm glad we came to get you, anyway," said Ron. "I was getting really worried-"
"Oh, were you?" The girl huffed.
"-When you didn't answer any of our letters. I thought it was Errol's fault at first-"
"Who's Errol?"
"Our owl. He's ancient. It wouldn't be the first time he'd collapsed on a delivery. So then I tried to borrow Hermes -"
"Who?"
"The owl Mum and Dad bought Percy when he was made prefect," said Fred.
"But Percy wouldn't lend him to me," said Ron. "Said he needed him."
"Percy's been acting very oddly this summer," said George, frowning. "And he has been sending a lot of letters and spending a load of time shut up in his room... I mean, there's only so many times you can polish a prefect badge... You're driving too far west, Fred"
"So, does your dad know you've got the car?" said Harry, guessing the answer.
"Er, no," said Ron, "he had to work tonight. Hopefully we'll be able to get it back in the garage without Mum noticing we flew it."
"We didn't have a choice though, little lady here kept nagging until we agreed to help her get you, she's a pain-"
"Sod off, Fred," Mel scoffed, "I'm not ashamed about it, unlike you, I care"
"The point is, we made a plan and we got this old thing out of the garage without telling our parents"
"What does your dad do at the Ministry of Magic, anyway?"
"He works in the most boring department," said Ron. "The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."
"The what?"
"It's all to do with bewitching things that are Muggle-made, you know, in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house. Like, last year, some old witch died and her tea set was sold to an antiques shop. This Muggle woman bought it, took it home, and tried to serve her friend's tea in it. It was a nightmare - Dad was working overtime for weeks."
"What happened?"
"The teapot went berserk and squirted boiling tea all over the place and one man ended up in the hospital with the sugar tongs clamped to his nose. Dad was going frantic - it's only him and an old warlock called Perkins in the office -and they had to do Memory Charms and all sorts of stuff to cover it up -"
"But your dad - this car -"
"Yeah, Dad's crazy about everything to do with Muggles; our shed's full of Muggle stuff. He takes it apart, puts spells on it, and puts it back together again. If he raided our house he'd have to put himself under arrest. It drives Mum mad."
"I think he's lovely," Mel smiled, "he's kind and interesting, the first days we spent there he asked me and my mum all kinds of questions about our muggle life, I like him a lot..."
"That's the main road," said George, peering down through the windshield. "We'll be there in ten minutes... Just as well, it's getting light..."
Few minutes passed until they were finally reaching the house, the sky was starting to clear, and Mel was feeling rather sleepy. She was pleased to discover that flying cars didn't make her sick, but she wasn't comfortable sleeping on the backseat, so she couldn't wait to get to her bed.
"Touchdown!" said Fred.
"It's not much," said Ron once they were out of the car, he was talking about his house.
"It's wonderful," said Harry happily.
He was always so sweet.
"Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly," said Fred, "and wait for Mum to call us for breakfast Then, Ron, you come bounding downstairs going, 'Mum, look who turned up in the night!' and she'll be all pleased to see Harry -along with Emily- and no one need ever know we flew the car."
"Right," said Ron. "Come on, Harry, I sleep at the - at the top-"
Mel crashed into him, she hadn't noticed his movements coming into a halt, too distracted by her own weariness.
"What's-?" She looked up, feeling her heart fall to her stomach.
"Ah, "said Fred.
"Oh, dear," said George.
Mrs. Weasley came to a halt in front of them.
"So, " She said.
"Morning, Mum," said George.
"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" said Mrs. Weasley in a whisper.
"Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to -"
"Beds empty! No note! Car gone- could have crashed- out of my mind with worry- did you care? - never, as long as I've lived -you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy -"
"Perfect Percy," muttered Fred.
"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!" yelled Mrs. Weasley, "You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job -"
"This looks like entirely not my business," Mel muttered, trying to escape from the woman's screams.
But it wasn't long until she crashed against another body, this time her mother's.
"Oh, bloody hell," Mel mumbled.
"Mel Dumbledore," Her mother said in a thin, angry whisper, "you better have a good explanation"
"Bars," Was all she said.
"Bars," Emily's frown grew, "oh lady, you are in so much trouble"
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Emily took her to Charlie's room and scowled her endlessly. Mel was ashamed, she had never lied to her mum like that.
She had hidden information, yes, but never lied to her. She was guilty, but every time she thought about Harry finally safe, she couldn't help but feel all giddy inside.
Ginny appeared a second after Emily had left the room to go and fetch her a plate with scrambled eggs before starting the day (she wasn't going to let her sleep at all) and sat eagerly at the edge of the bed.
"Harry's here," She commented.
"I know, Ginny," Mel yawned, "I was there..."
"I ran as soon as I saw him!" The little girl hid her face in embarrassment, "he saw me in my nightdress!"
"Don't worry about it, Harry's silly, I'm sure he didn't even notice"
"My brothers won't stop teasing me about it"
"If your brothers tease you I'll make sure to give them hell, all right?" Mel offered.
Before Ginny could reply, Emily walked in. The little girl stood up and quickly left the room, afraid of the woman's reaction.
However, Mel's mum seemed much more relaxed now.
"Harry looks skinnier than before if that's even possible..."
"They put bars on his window and locked him up," Mel said gloomily, "they also put a cat's door so they could pass him food while he was in there. A bloody cat's door, mum"
"A what!?" Emily walked around the room in pure outrage, "I swear- If I could, I swear I would take Harry away from those monsters- starving him to death!"
"I couldn't leave him there mum, I'm so sorry"
"I know you did it thinking it was the best thing," Emily passed a hand through her hair, "but you could've been caught, you could've had an accident! What would your poor mum do without you?"
"I'm sorry," Mel looked away, "I know I let you down, I hate lying..."
"It was a good cause," Emily hugged her daughter, "I spoil you too much, but you're a sweet girl, you could never let me down"
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Moments after hearing Mr. Weasley's arrival and his argument with Mrs. Weasley, Mel peeked through the door and came face to face with Harry and Ron, climbing up the stairs in silence.
"Oh," She opened the door completely and got out of the room, "is everything alright downstairs?"
"It'll be," Ron shrugged, "want to join us? I'm about to show Harry my room"
"Sure," She followed them.
When they got to the third floor she heard a door slamming closed and jumped on her place.
"What was that?"
"Ginny," said Ron, then he turned to Harry, "You don't know how weird it is for her to be this shy. She never shuts up normally, when Mel arrived we could barely spend time together 'cause Ginny was always around"
"She's so nice," Mel beamed, "I'm so happy she'll go to Hogwarts this year, that way I won't miss her as much"
"The day you tell us you can't stand someone, that day I'll be surprised," Ron shook his head.
"Don't tease her," said Harry, "she's just being a good friend"
Mel smiled at him and kept going, completely missing Ron's confused expression at Harry's reply.
Once in the room, she let herself fall on her friend's bed and closed her eyes, sighing happily.
"I could take a nap, just five minutes..."
She opened her eyes slightly to watch Harry as he walked through the room and observed everything around him, she felt Ron sitting next to her, waiting nervously for Harry's verdict.
"It's a bit small," said Ron quickly. "Not like that room you had with the Muggles. And I'm right underneath the ghoul in the attic; he's always banging on the pipes and groaning..."
"This is the best house I've ever been in," Harry smiled widely, "I mean, after Mel's house, of course."
She only smiled in return, her eyes finally giving up and closing, falling fast asleep.
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Taglist.
@tiphareth2018 @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @celestialhayi @omiwashere  @mikariell95
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It’s a Grey Area
Chapter 4
A/N: Basically a lot of fixing what was done in the last movie. Since Disney yeeted canon out the door, I’m yeeting their version to the void. Uhh. A lot of swears. Not much else. For the dress I imagined the first one listed here
Gif from @lowndsiercs and the photo from one @huliabitch
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At about 5pm that evening, Blix was getting ready for her date with Poe. She had just gotten her makeup done when she heard a knock on her door. She looked at it confused for a moment, and then looked over at the clock to confirm the time, 5:03pm. ‘Who could that be?’
She answered the door, with just her head poking out, and Poe stood there. “Hey, sorry. I know we said 6 but I was hoping to catch you before you started cooking?”
“No, I haven’t started. What’s up?” She replied as she looked toward her kitchen.
“Good. Finish getting ready. I want to take you somewhere,” Poe offered with a big smile.
“Okay, um. Give me like… 5 minutes?” She requested as she tried to think of what else she needed to do.
He nodded his head, and she quickly shut the door again. She threw on her shoes, a pair of pink pumps to go with the dress she wore. She quickly checked her makeup again, spritzed on some perfume, and then grabbed her purse making sure she had her ID badge, some credits, and her communicator.
She looked in the mirror and could hardly recognize herself with her hair down and makeup on. She didn’t usually get too fancied up for work and it has been a long time since she had been on a date. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves and then walked back over to the door, stepping out this time.
Poe turned to her when she stepped out and his eyes went wide, his mouth agape. “Whoa. You… you look beautiful. Is this what you’ve been hiding from me all this time?” He asked in awe, his eyes roving up and down.
She smiled and took in his attire as well. He wore his new dark brown leather jacket, over a white shirt with a slight v-neck, and black jeans tucked into boots.
“You clean up quite nicely yourself, Commander,” She complimented biting her lip. “So, where are we going for this date then?”
He held out his arm for her to take, and when she does, he leads her out to the flight deck. He led her not to the Falcon, but to his X-wing. He started to climb the ladder up to the cockpit, stopped a few steps up and turned to her, and held his hand out to her.
“C’mon. I’m taking you off base,” He stated with a charming grin.
She hesitantly took his hand and followed after him. He sat down and adjusted the seat and himself, for a moment before motioning for her to get in. She raised an eyebrow at him and slowly stepped in, and then took her seat, which meant her being pressed against his chest, half on his lap and half in the seat.
“Poe. These were not meant for two people and for a reason,” She informed as she tried to adjust herself to sit comfortably and not harm him in the process.
“It’ll only be for a few minutes, just settle down. We will be alright,” He assured her with a laugh as he fired the X-wing up, his arms working around her. “Besides, I owe you after the catastrophe that was your first mission.”
“Oh? You mean when a bounty hunter tried to nab us? Or when we were shot at by a unit of stormtroopers? Or chased down by a squadron of TIE Fighters? You mean that catastrophe? Completely forgot about it,” She teased as the X-Wing began to lift.
He shushed her, placing his hand on her mouth, pressing a small kiss to her cheek. “Shush it. Just sit back and enjoy the ride, Miss Kenobi.”
She crinkled her nose at him but did as he suggested. She settled against his chest and enjoyed the view. Ajon Kloss was full of beautiful jungles and rivers and admiring them from above was breathtaking. About 10 minutes later they were landing in a small field near one of the few towns that inhabited Ajon Kloss. As the cockpit door opened and they stepped onto the wing of the ship, she made a face as she realized something.
“How exactly do you expect me to get down, or back up here, in a dress and high-heels, Poe?” She asked looking from him to the ground.
He hopped down and held his arms out, stating, “Just lower yourself slowly, I’ll steady you and make sure you won’t fall.”
She gave him a doubtful look, gently sitting down and lowering herself into his waiting arms. She stumbled slightly as she finally touched the ground, but Poe was there keeping her balanced.
“You good?” He asked her once she was steady.
She nodded her head, and he took her hand into his, before strolling toward the town. There were many vendors lining the streets, selling their wares and she looked at everything in awe.
After about 15 minutes in which they had barely made 20ft into the town, she sheepishly smiled at Poe who had been patiently waiting on her.
“Sorry, I’m slowing us down a bit, aren’t I? As you can see, I don’t get out very often,” She lamely joked with an awkward smile.
“No. I like seeing this side of you. It’s not very often I see you genuinely happy, and I’m not exactly about to stop that. I like seeing you smile,” He responded back, his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him.
She rested her hands on to his biceps and smiled up at him. “Thank you for not getting annoyed or thinking that I’m weird cause I wasted time talking with vendors and such. If you can’t tell, I have also dated assholes who think that a date should be overly formal and boring. So, even though we’ve haven’t even been here very long, this has already proven to be the best first date so far,” She admitted looking around at everything with a toothy smile.
He grinned and suggested, “Well, how about we go get some grub first, and then we can spend however long you want looking at the vendors?”
She excitedly agreed and they walked to a nearby restaurant, and sat at a booth, where Poe sat next to her, his arm resting around her shoulders. They ordered some food and drinks moments later.
“I must say the more I learn about you, the more fascinating you become,” He informed her as he looked at her.
“Well, believe me when I say I don’t really have any other secrets that are quite that major. At least… I don’t think so?” She promised hesitantly.
“I don’t know. I think you have plenty of secrets that I would enjoy finding out no matter how long it takes,” He responded with a smile, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
She smiled back and said, “You missed.”
He gave her a look of confusion, and before he could ask her what she meant, she leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “I believe you meant to do that,” She said as she pulled away.
He nodded his head, “Indeed. How silly of me to miss like that?” As he kissed her again, but for just a bit longer.
She laughed as they pulled away and curled into his side, head resting on his shoulder. Their food came soon enough, and once they had their fill, they paid and left, wrapped up in each other’s arms.
They made their way through the bazaar, and she gazed at many booths with curious eyes, and talked intimately with each vendor she stopped at. One vendor, in particular, sold jewelry that piqued her interest. She stared and cooed over all of the sparkly things.
As she gazed at some necklaces, Poe’s eyes caught sight of a beautiful ring. The band was black in color, and the stone was swirling of pink with flecks of yellow and blue within. It was accented with small clear stones. He looked at it and then at her with a smile.
She looked back up at him at one point and questioned, “What’s with that smile, Commander?”
“Nothing. Just admiring you, is all,” He swore with a secretive smile
“Uh huh. Sure. C’mere,” She pulled him closer to her, and grabbed the ring sizers, and started trying to figure out what size ring he was.
“You could just ask? I’m a size 10,” He said with a laugh as her determination to figure out which fits him best.
“Good to know then, I’ll file that away for later then. I’m a size six” She said with setting the sizer down, starring at the necklaces.
There was a pendant that caught her eye. As she looked at it, she saw that engraved upon it was the symbol of the Jedi. The pendant as she looked further was made of a dark wood that was a similar color to his eyes. Warm and deep. Soothing. She asked the vendor how much for it, and as soon as she paid for it, she turned to Poe, holding it in her hands.
She motioned for him to lean down, and she gently slipped it over his head, and adjusted it once it was around his neck.
“Just a little something, to remind you to not die out there, flyboy,” She commented as she stepped back.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to come back to you, no matter what,” Poe promised, one of his hands gently running over the etching.
She grinned and turned to look at the next stall nearby and made her way over to it. While she was distracted, Poe looked back at the ring he noticed earlier and inquired about the price.
“Honestly, I’m surprised you are asking about that one. No one ever seems interested in it. It used to be at pretty steep price, since pink opals are hard to find around here, but I’ve been trying to sell that ring for 5 years. Tell me, what do you intend to do with it?” The vendor, a young girl, asked.
“Well. It sounds silly but it’s a promise to a promise. I plan to give her my mother’s ring when I propose, but I want to give her something to wear until then. It reminds me of her, I don’t know. I can’t really explain it,” Poe explained as best as he could.
“Opals represent love and hope. Maybe that’s why?” She supplied nodding her head toward his Resistance patch. “Take it. I can tell it will be cherished. Plus, your girlfriend overpaid for the necklace anyway.”
He took the ring gently and slipped into the small velvet pouch she gave him, before setting into an inner pocket of his jacket. He mouthed ‘Thank you’ to her, before running to catch up to Blix. She had made her way a few stalls down, and when Poe caught up to her, she greeted him with a hello.
The shops by this point were starting to close up as night began to fall. They decided to head back to the X-wing. When they got there Poe easily clambered onto the wing, and then laid down on his stomach reaching down for her. She grabbed hold of his hands and with surprising strength, pulled her effortlessly up onto the wing.
He started to get up, but she stopped him. “We don’t have to go back just yet. Just lay here with me for a bit, yeah?” She suggested as she situated herself.
Poe moved himself to lay on his back, resting his head on one of his arms. She moved to lay her head against his chest and stare up at the stars.
“May I ask you something?” She inquired after a moment. “Why me? Why out of all of the women on base, why do you like me so much? Surely there are others with less baggage and far easier to get close to than little ol’ me?”
“Yeah. There are. There are indeed. But. I don’t recall any of them comin’ to talk to me after bein’ captured by the First Order,” He admitted. “I remember hearin’ your voice speak to me while I was in that medically induced coma to help heal the wounds I endured after being tortured and crashing.”
Her faced felt warm as she thought back to that time, a good year ago. “Wait… How much do you remember?” She asked slightly panicked.
He laughed, “I remember you sayin something about me being ‘painfully handsome.’”
“I had only been here a month and I had yet to officially meet you. I had said ‘no one warned me that you would be painfully handsome.’ You woke up sometime later and I remember thinking that you had gorgeous eyes. Then came that charm and silver tongue of yours, when the first thing to come out of your mouth was a flirtation,” She ribbed with a shake of her head.
“Maker. Did I really? I don’t remember what I said,” He stated somewhat bashfully.
“Something about being in heaven, for I am clearly looking at an angel. Something to that effect,” She supplied.
“I am sorry though if my flirting was ever too much, or annoying. It started off meaningless, but then I made you smile once and it was prettiest smile I’ve ever seen, and I wanted to see it more. So, I kept it up hoping that one day, you would go on a date with me,” He admitted with a smile.
“Well, you got that date. What do you plan to do now?” She questioned as she turned on to her side, propping her head up on her hand.
“Isnt it obvious? I plan to marry you asap, but until then maybe take you onto a couple more dates when I can?” He posed with a quirk of an eyebrow.
She giggled at him before a small shiver ran down her spine. The chill of the night was finally starting to creep in. He noticed the shiver, and then pulled the both of them up, lamenting that it was time to return to base.
They returned almost too soon for Blix’ liking and as they made their way inside, Poe pulled her in the direction of his room not hers. They stepped inside, she noticed BB8 was on his charging station, and smiled over at him.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind crashing with me tonight? Not that I expect anything to happen, but I didn’t really want our date to end just yet,” He requested with a small shrug.
She nodded her head in response, slipped off her shoes and made her way over to his bed to take a seat.
As she walked past, Poe slipped the small bag that held the ring into his pants pocket, before hanging his jacket up on a hook by the door and toeing off his shoes as well.
He sauntered over to his bed and laid down, his arms open for her to settle into. She tucked herself into his side, her right hand splayed out onto his chest. She could hear him start to say something, but she was so comfortable that she fell asleep.
“So, I was thinki-“ He stopped as he watched her eyes drift shut.
He smiled and then slipped the ring out. He starred at it then at her for a moment. He then gently slipped it onto her ring finger on her right hand, where it fit perfectly. Satisfied, he tightened his hold on her, and he too, fell asleep soon after.
The next morning, she woke up slightly confused as she took in her surroundings. Slowly, she remembered she was in Poe’s room not hers, and looked around for the man in question. He was in the kitchen flipping pancakes, whistling as he did so.
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and sat up, stretching, groaning softly as her joints popped.
“Good morning sleepyhead. I hope you are hungry,” He called out as he noticed her movements.
She stands up and made her way over to him, “Everything smells yummy,” she complimented.
He grinned in response as he made their plates. As she reached over for a fork, she noticed something glinting. She looked more closely at her hand and gaped at the ring she saw.
“When? How? Wha-“ She stuttered out as she looked up at him.
“Well. You got me this necklace. Only fair I think that I get you a little something. The vendor told that it represents love and hope. Figured you should have a lil reminder of the latter,” He lightly teased, biting his lip nervously.
She chuckled softly, and looked back at the ring, “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” She leaned over the table and gave him a quick kiss.
She sat back down, and they began to eat.
“May I ask? What… what drew you to the Resistance?” She asked taking a bit of bacon.
“Uh. Well. I had joined the New Republic as pilot when I was 17 or so? Moved up the ranks to a captain, had my own squadron- Rapier. One day, I was asked to do some undercover work, as a spice runner of all things,” He began to explain, setting his fork down as he spoke.
“A spice runner? You? No!” She exclaimed in disbelief.
“It was weird. I’ll admit. But the intel I got from it was extremely valuable, and it impressed Leia enough that she recruited me directly. I haven’t looked back since,” He finished with a shrug.
“But why leave the navy? Was it really that terrible?” She inquired still a bit confused.
“The Republic… wasn’t doing enough. They were not holding the First Order accountable like they should have been. I was... frustrated. It felt like all the good I was doing was for nothing. So, yeah. When I was offered a chance to fight that injustice? I jumped on it,” He clarified with a slight bitterness.
“Plus, it also meant that I would one day meet you, so win-win,” He ended with a flirtatious smile and wink.
She shook her head at his ridiculousness before she stopped and stared off to the side, something he said registering in her head.
“You said…you said you were with the Rapier Squadron?” She checked after a moment. At his nod, she laughed, leaning back into her chair, her hands covering her face.
“The sheer coincidence,” She whispered before she stated, “Maureen. She felt it was her duty to find me suitable suitors, one of which was while I was in medical school. A captain from the Rapier Squadron of the Navy. She lost interest in you as a potential when you joined the Resistance.”
“You’re shitting me? I was meant to be a potential suitor for you?” He asked incredulous.
“Well. You, and several other high-ranking officers of the navy and the First Order sadly enough. Thankfully, she has no actual power over my life, romantically, financially, or otherwise. I just... We could have potentially met sooner. Though I probably wouldn’t have liked you at all, being a suitor and all,” She described further. “So maybe this was for the best.”
“Maureen tried to set you up with First Order officers?” He asked as his face screwed up in disgust.
“Yep. Particularly, General Hux. Thought it would help soothe over the tensions between the Republic and the Order. Shame for him since I’ve never been interested in red heads,” She further expounded. “No, I apparently prefer dark haired flyboys who like to flirt and buy me rings to remind me to have hope.”
He rolled his eyes at the first part and then as she got to the last part he agreed, “Damn straight. You’re my girl. Hux can suck it.”
She laughed at how seriously he said that last part.
“You laugh but I am serious,” He said as he walked around to her and stood before her, his arms trapping her as they encased her. “If Maureen ever tried to set you up with anyone, especially Hux, she’d have to pry you from my cold dead hands.”
He leaned down as he spoke before he pressed a hard kiss to her lips. She pressed back and slowly wrapped her arms around his neck. His kisses stole her breath and butterflies swarm in stomach. As he pulled away, she whined a bit as the kiss ended.
“I’m going to hold you to that, Commander,” She whispered to him as she caught her breath.
She checked the time and said with a sigh, “I have to go change and get to work. Then try and schedule when I am going to train my 2 new padawans.”
“Okay. Was… was this a good date? Like. You want to continue this?” He hesitantly questioned.
“Good? No. It was great. I would love to go on more dates with you,” She assured pressing a kiss to his cheek, before she stood up to throw her shoes back on and grab her purse.
He smiled in response and walked her to the door and said, “If I am not terribly busy today, I may come and harass you again today. I realize it’s been a while since I’ve last done it.”
She shook her head and rolled her eyes, muttering an okay with a smile.
She made her way back to her room, took some time to clean herself up. She showered and changed before making her way to the infirmary.
She stepped in and began the workday, ignoring the whispers that came from her workers, and everyone who walked in for treatment.
Around lunch time, she finally sighed heavily, tired of the whispers and looks.
“Is there something you would like to ask me?” She asked annoyed as she turned to look at her coworkers.
Amber and Bre looked at each other and then asked at the same time:
“Are you really a Kenobi?” “Did you really have a date with Poe last night?”
“Seriously? This is what people have been acting weird over? My lineage and love life? Y’all really need to find hobbies,” She responded exasperated, “Yes to both by the way. Now can we work without the gossiping?”
“Gossip? What gossip? Anything juicy?” She heard Poe’s voice question as he sauntered in.
“Ladies,” He greeted before he walked over to Blix and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Hello beautiful.”
She shook her head and said, “Hello.”
“Join me for lunch?” He requested politely as he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder.
She grabbed her data pad, and complied, “Sure, I need to figure out training schedule with Rey and Ben anyway.”
He kept an arm around her as they walked out and made their way to the mess hall. They grabbed a tray of food, that was essentially some sandwiches and a Caf, before walking over to where the Black Squadron sat, with Finn, Rey and Ben. They sat together and she smiled at everyone as they settled in.
She noticed that the table got quiet and breathed harshly through her nose, annoyed, before she asked, “Is everyone going to be this damn weird all day?”
She became even more annoyed as she noticed that the entire hall was glancing over at her or whispering. “Fuck it,” She muttered. “Propriety be damned.”
She then stood up and then stepped up onto the bench, before whistling loudly to silence everyone.
“HI. Hello. To answer everyone’s damn questions. Yes. I am a Kenobi. Yes. I went on a date with Poe last night. Now can every one of you FUCK OFF, and go back to minding your own DAMN business,” She spoke loudly, at times shouting, before sitting back down.
The table was shocked into further silence; Poe was the first to break it by laughing. Some of the others chuckled along with him, the rest just looked at her somewhat impressed.
“Sorry. That’s been goin’ on all day and if it continued any longer, I was going to stab someone,” She explained weakly and embarrassed.
She took out her sandwich and began to eat as conversations returned to normal. She pulled out her date pad and pulled up her calendar.
“Alright, you two though. We need to plan training days. I don’t want to make you both train every day. Mostly cause I don’t want to train every day, but also, I want you both to have some days to rest and do whatever missions or fun normal things that you kids do,” She contemplated as she looked at her schedule.
Rey perked up at the mention of training and said, “I mean you are also the head medic here; you are kind of needed.”
She looked up at that and smiled appreciatively. “True as that may be, Admiral Holdo, has apparently sent me a notice that I will have extra help in the medbay soon enough. Another doctor… Ugh. Him? Of all people?”
She crinkled her nose at her data pad and leaned away from it in disgust.
“Whose Dr. Kyle Andrews?” Poe asked as he looked over shoulder to see what was causing her reaction.
“Scum of the world. He’s… he’s an alright doctor… but I hate him. He’s so arrogant and rude. I..Blegh,”She answered with a shudder. “I might have to add more training if only to avoid that asshat.”
“Don’t think I ever heard you swear this much in such a short time period, Doc,” Ben commented, slightly teasing in his tone.
She narrowed his eyes at him playfully and warned “If the words ‘unladylike’ comes out of your mouth, I’m throwing my drink in your face.”
“Never,” Ben said hiding his laugh as he took a drink.
“He’ll be here by the end of the month. And oh. That’s when I can take you two to go create your lightsabers. Good to know,” She spoke aloud as she read the rest of the notice. “In a month you two will have proper sabers, and not the hand-me-downs you’ve been working with.”
Rey’s eyes lit up and Ben nodded his head in appreciation. Blix looked over at Finn who had been strangely quiet during this time. She tilted her head at him, and slowly remember the whispers of him possibly being Force-Sensitive.
“Ya know, while I’m obviously going to need a pilot to take us, I might also need someone to help guard them while they meditate. It can take hours or days to complete, and it leaves them in a very vulnerable position. Finn? Would you like to join us next month? Might be enlightening for you as well?” She noted softly, before making her offer.
Finn looked up at her when she addressed him and looked over at Ben and Rey (mostly Rey) and replied, “Sure, if it’s not a bother to them.”
Rey smiled brightly at him and said, “Of course it wouldn’t bother us. I’ll need someone to keep me sane between the lovebirds and Ben brooding.”
The aforementioned people all rolled their eyes almost simultaneously. Finn nodded his head with a smile.
‘These two are so obviously in love. So cute.’ She thought as she watched them start to talk to one another animatedly.
‘I wouldn’t say cute. Gross is more the word.’ Came Ben’s thought filtering into her mind.
She gave him a small glare ‘Shush. They are fine. Clearly we need to find you a girl’
He shook his head before standing up. “I have to go speak to my mother about some things. Let me know when you’ve decided training,” He informed her just before he walked away.
She nodded her head and quickly figured out some time frames to work with before returning to her meal and listening to the squad tell stories. Mostly she watched Poe, who was extremely relaxed and energetic as he spoke.
She finished her food, and nudged Poe to gain his attention for a moment. He looked at her with smile as she told him, “I’m heading back to the Med Bay. Stay safe, eh Flyboy?”
“I have my pendant on to remind me, don’t worry. I’ll see you later,” he assured softly tapping onto the necklace.
She pressed a kiss to his lips, and left a moment later, returning to the medbay soon enough.
The next month goes by in a flurry. Between the medbay, the dates with Poe, and training, she was almost surprised when she realized she had 2 days left before they would be leaving. She spent a good day, gathering the necessary scrolls and journals that her grandfather left her, and packing them gently into a bag.
Later that night, Poe had come over to have dinner with her, and as they laid on her bed, she became overwhelmed with a feeling of dread. She couldn’t quite fall asleep, sounds of distant screams and evil laughter echoed in her ear. She heard a voice calling out. Not to her, no. But to Ben. Unfamiliar and sinister sounding voices speaking to him.
She got up from the bed, grabbed a long cardigan and walked out of her room, not caring that she was barefoot and in her pajamas that consisted of shorts and a tank top.
She made her way across the base to where Ben’s room was, ignoring the strange looks she got from everyone who was still awake. As she stood outside his door, it was quiet. She almost thought to turn around, thinking she was being paranoid, before she heard pained yelling coming from inside.
She used her emergency medical code that allowed her access into any room and rushed in. Ben was in the midst of nightmare; arms and legs thrashing about as he fought off whatever invisible demon that was plaguing his mind.
“Ben. Ben! Wake up! WAKE UP! BEN!” she called out to him trying to wake him.
The yelling attracted Leia and Luke, who rushed in.
“BEN!” She shouted one last time. His eyes snapped opened and his hand instinctively grabbed her by the throat.
She grunted as she tried to get his grip to loosen. “Ben. Ben. It’s me. You’re okay. Ben. Let go” She spoke as calmly as possible, hissing in pain when his grip tightened.
Leia came up behind her and spoke softly to him, “Ben. Ben, you have to let go. Breathe sweetie.”
Her voice slowly soothed him, and his vice on her throat lessened. He blinked rapidly as he fully awakened and became aware of his surroundings.
He looked at Blix with wide eyes and stuttered out an apology. She waved it off. “You’re not first patient I’ve had who’s tried to choke me. You’re fine. What did you see?”
He took a few deep breaths and slowly said, “Darth Sidious. Or... something that looked like him? He’s commanding the First Order. He has something planned. He wants Rey and I to join him. It’s… He’s…. There was… There was someone else with him. Another Sith. I couldn’t see their face.”
“He’s already found another apprentice? Fuck. Okay. Then we need you two prepared as best as possible. Then… I don’t know what, but we’ll figure it out okay?” Blix assured as chewed on her lip, thinking.
“Alright. Try and get more rest. Tomorrow we make our way to Christophsis,” Blix stood up and looked toward Luke. “Can we talk outside?”
He nodded and they left Leia to tend to her son. They stepped outside, and she leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
“If Darth Sidious has indeed returned, no matter how improbable that sounds, we need to figure out how to find him. I know my grandfather talked a bit about… Wayfinders? In his journals. Do you know what those are? Or where to find one?” She asked him quietly.
“Yes. I knew of one, but I was never able to find it. When you return with them, we will focus our efforts in finding it. Time is of the essence,” Luke explained with determination.
She nodded her head, and she began to turn away but stopped and said, “At some point as well, I think you and I need to talk. Clear the air that sort of thing?”
He looked at her slightly surprised, but responded, “Yes. I think that would be best.”
“Okay. Good night then,” She replied before walking away.
She returned to her room and to Poe’s arms, who woke up and asked what had happened. She mumbled she would explain in the morning, and just collapsed into his arms.
The next few days were going to be long, and with new players entering the game, the battle against the First Order just got more complicated.
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katiethxrne · 4 years
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act i : god’s favor or katie avoids arrest by an incompetent co-worker
The muggy night made the cigarette less helpful than she would have liked, the smoke twirling around her tongue over-heavy and static on her lips. The nervous air of the other bar patrons barely so much as niggled an eyebrow from the brunette at the window seat, a mug of strong ale before her, condensation staining the already tarnished tabletop. Even with the windows open and a cooling charm the bar remained musty.
Why Hawkins had picked this place was beyond her, the younger woman was a bartender and there were better places to pick, let alone a bar in the Wizarding World when the Muggle one was only a few steps away. Katie took another drag, letting the smoke curl into the night sky from her own brazenly wide window.
Hawkins was late.
Unusual, but not outright worrisome. 
Katie sipped at her ale, motioning to the barkeep to get her another, he sent a serving girl over, pretty with bright eyes. Too young.
“When did you get so old Thorne?” her mind whispered a little deviously, somewhere around the third eviscerated body she supposed but she flashed a crooked grin all the same as the serving girl topped her up. 
Sipping on her second round Katie hazarded a look to her watch, a beat up scuffed thing that once belonged to her Dad-- yup, Hawkins was an hour late and Katie wasn’t going to be sitting around any longer. Wolfsbane was a lucrative potion to sell and there wasn’t a short shelf life nor was it particularly hard to find customers for. Standing up from her seat she tossed a few sickles and knuts on the table and exited the bar. As she stepped around the corner she noted something odd, a little shadow stuck to her shadow. Blink and you would miss it, but Katie hardly missed a trick when in fact she was a queen of tricks. The Gryffindor took a sharp right down an alley, watching from the corner of her eye as the shadow peeled off as the potioneer shrouded herself in darkness, it took a quick charm and Katie was seemingly sucked into the shadows. The patter of feet at the mouth of the alley revealed a shockingly tall blonde, Katie almost snickered at the annoyed frown on the man’s face. Auror Lebond, though very good with stealth was not good at tracking, and it was showing as he peered down the alley, muttering to himself. Katie shifted closer, feet muffled by the weave of charms around her. 
“Where did he go...” Katie grinned, as he paced, hardly a foot away, “I knew this tip was ridiculous, that damn seller never shows with the same face.” Polyjuice was easy, having been brewing it since her fourth year, and in large supply in her closet. Her current face was a bullish man, broken nose and close-cropped solider’s hair and frankly was dressed as the chavs from her hometown. Katie quietly slipped further down the alley and without much preamble took the remedy for Polyjuice. Her clothes were now massive on her, and her dark curls were a side-swept mess, it took a few transfiguration fixes and some charms and back around the corner went Katie-- nose in her phone, cigarette in hand and looking up at the figure still pacing the entry to the alley fiddling with his wand.
“Damien?” Katie tilted her head up, grinning at the tall man who froze as he turned around.
“Thorne,” he ground out with a false grin, “what are you doing here?”
“I’ve a friend who lives nearby, just headed to the local apparition point,” this wizarding neighborhood was nestled in the heart of Derbyshire, and a apparition point was needed as the muggle’s surrounded them, “my friend’s place has anti-apparition charms, their family fought in the War and it turns out paranoia is generational.” 
“Didn’t know you had friends out here Thorne,” he looked down at her, eyes narrowed, obviously annoyed to find her out here. 
“Oh call me Katie, we’ve met.” the flick of her brow was simply to remind him that she solved that alchemy ring before he did, and the stealing of glory had rubbed him wrong ever since. “What are you doing out here? Not working are you?”
“Yes,” he ground out, “it’s a secret mission, and you’re interrupting.”
The woman raised her hands in apology, “Sorry Leland--”
“Lebond.”
“Right.” Katie rolled her eyes, “Well if you’re looking for someone, maybe trying to track them in Auror robes, badges, and your overly shiny boots isn’t as discrete as you may like.”
“If you knew the rules about Aurors you would know that wearing our badges and robes are part of procedure!” the blonde snapped, bearing down on her, as if his intimidation attempt would work. “But as usual, you pretend like you’re a real field agent who got in on their actual skill and not a lucky vouch.” That was the usual bard Aurors had been throwing at her, hopping it would stick like shit to a wall, and Katie had to admit it hurt. Like the prick of a needle, but just as inconsequential. “So why you don’t you get away from my crimes and go back to the labs.”
“Alright, I’ll skedaddle then, have fun hunting your potioneer.”
His hand was heavy, sweaty and tight on her shoulder-- it reminded her far too much of her Uncle so Katie was quick to roll out from underneath it. “How to fuck do you know I’m looking for a potioneer?”
“You’re looking for a potions dealer, and I deal in potions, it’s quite literally my job title -- Master Potioneer for the Department of Law Enforcement, Forensics & Crime division of the Auror Department. Of course I know what you’re looking for. Armstrong is in charge of the case, and you’re in her squadron, it’s a very simple deduction. Besides, I do deal in potion making outside of the Aurors, I’ve heard from the supply grapevine about someone buying large stock without Ministry permits,” Katie sniffed, “and often in disguise, whoever you’re hunting has probably already shed their disguise.”
“Whose to say you’re not the potioneer.”
“You can literally track my purchases Lesalle--”
“Lebond.”
“-- with the apothecaries, I’m a pretty well known among them. I do some potion making, licensed, for the apothecary in Hogsmeade. Besides I literally am an Auror why in the world would I be doing anything illegal like selling Felix Felicis on the black market?”
“It’s Wolfsbane.”
“Even worse, that’s just as controlled. Can I brew it? Of course, I wouldn’t be worth my salt as a Master Potioneer if I couldn’t. Don’t be daft.”
The man stared her down, the veins on his neck popping as he mouth twitched, “Fine. But I’m watching you.”
“Keep your eyes neck level and up then Letoya--”
“Lebond.”
“Whatever. Are you done interrogating me, cause you have more that definitely lost your guy sitting around acting as if I’m a suspect in your little case. Better be careful, maybe I’ll solve it before you,” she patted him consoling on the shoulder, “don’t worry, I’ll mention this in my report.”
“You can’t do a report you’re not a field agent and you most certaintly cannot do any field agent work. You’re a Master Potioneer and didn’t do the training I did.”
“Astute. Anyway I must be getting home, I have to be at the labs early tomorrow. Johnson busted up a chimera alchemy ring yesterday and I have some bodies to help dissect, they were messing with some blood potioneering.” the man looked faintly queasy before stepping out of her pathway. The both exchanged a tiresome look, they both knew the horrors of this field of work, and they’d both seen the scourge of the Earth. 
“I don’t begrudge you that job at all.”
“Believe me, you shouldn’t.” with a spin on her heel she sauntered down the street as Lebond once again attempted several tracking spells, but without any real DNA to track she knew it would be hopeless. Armstrong no doubt wanted him out of whatever mission she was fielding tonight, he wasn’t the brightest snitch in the game and had all the finesse of a Chinese fireball at a kids party. Katie spun on her heels again, popping into her living room, feet landing dangerously close to an open wine bottle. Putting away the Wolfsbane that was meant to be sold to Hawkins tonight Katie quickly burned the hair she had left of the solider chav, Chickadee enjoying setting the short black stands on fire, no use for that disguise anymore. 
Tomorrow she’ll see if she can contact a few other buyers, the Full Moon was close and Katie as always needed a little extra cash on the side. 
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pip-n-flinx · 4 years
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What Lay Behind Us
I know my first chapter didn’t get much traction, but here is second chapter of the Witcher fic I’m working on!
“Legend has it they wilt unless nourished with blood, and also if it’s ever sold… But give it to someone you love, and it’ll live forever.”
“This one’s for you Triss. If there’s any truth to the legend it should never wilt, even if you pluck a petal or two.”
Triss found herself staring at the Rose of Remembrance that Geralt had given her more than six months ago. No one would ever accuse Triss Merigold of having a green thumb, and indeed she left the growing of herbs to the alchemists her whole life. But it still bloomed, beautiful as the day they had found in, growing on the elven statue in the garden.
    She’d carried it with her. Sentiment. Just couldn’t bring herself to leave it behind. Smiled every time she looked at it. Pulse elevated. Breathing ragged. And that bath afterwards. She missed him. So much. But he remembered Yen now. Heartbroken, she turned back. Too good to last. She’d known from the start. Even if she was beautiful, Yen was more. Much more. The Djinn had seen to that. Bound her crush to her friend. There were other men. Handsome men. Winsome pairings. Other witchers even. It didn’t matter. She looked into those gold eyes and her heart broke. Torn. Then she found him. He’d forgotten. Forgotten Yennefer. Forgotten the Djinn. And her emotions had swept her away. But she’d known, even then. Doomed, this tryst. Doomed from the very start.
    Tears slid down her face and quiet sobs racked her chest as she clutched the rose close. It was almost too much to bear, seeing him again. “It’ll be nice?” She asked herself as she sat on the stump that passed for a chair. “It’ll be nice?! What was I thinking?” More sobs, more tears. Embarrassing, Triss thought. As an advisor to the king, before the coup, before the assassins, before the war, before the witch hunt, before all this, she could have had most any aspiring noble. Most were fine enough, but no. Her heart had seen fit to fall for Geralt. This all would have been so much easier if she had fallen for any other man. Damn, even Emhyr var Emreis was a more likely husband then Geralt, bound as he was by his own wish. Damn him, and damn Yen too. Clenched teeth, silent sobs now. Crying over a rose that would never wilt, never die. A constant reminder both of her lover and her own indiscretion. But she couldn’t just leave it. Not here. Not anywhere. She’d carry around her badge of shame until she died...
    They’re writing songs of love, but not for me.
    A lucky stars above, but not for me.
    With love to lead the way,
    I’ve found more clouds of grey     Then any tragic play could guarantee.
    I was a fool to fall, and get that way.
    Oh woe! Alas! And oh so lack-a-day.
    So while I can’t dismiss
    The memory of their kiss
    I guess they’re not for me.
    Dandelion’s song had come back, unbidden. Damn that bard, his songwriting always hit too close to home. Prescient even. She’d even wondered if he had the gift of dreams, at one point. There were some things he had no way of knowing, but know them he did.
        She remembered clearly the day she had heard. About the Djinn, about the wishes… She hadn’t had time to weep, not in front of Yen. It was hard, hearing Yennefer rail against the man Triss had her heart set on. Harder still to hear Geralt had chosen this. She’d been bitter, she knew. Her friend had come back beautiful, and scorning the love of “that scheming, manipulative, golden eyed abomination!” if memory served. That had hurt more than anything.
    Later on, she’d taken the time to cry it out. Hell, she’d even taken Eskel to bed with her, trying to forget Geralt. It hadn’t worked, of course, and Eskel couldn’t have cared less. He just wanted the flame haired sorceress underneath him. So when she’d snuck into Kaer Mohren and to his bed, he hadn’t objected. Triss regretted the decision instantly. What was she trying to do after all? Make him jealous? All she’d gotten was a pale imitation of what Yennefer had. It was a mistake, and one she’d never owned up to. Not to Yen, nor Ciri. Not to the other witchers, and most certainly not to Geralt. She didn’t know if she could. No, she held that secret closer than she did even the Rose of Remembrance. That too, she would carry to her grave.
    Then Geralt had returned, remembering nothing. Not her name, barely her face, but perhaps more stunningly not Yennefer of Vengerberg either. It was too good to be true. It wouldn’t last. Whether it was a curse or just a bump on the head, eventually he’d be back to normal. He’d lived so many years, there was no way this would be the undoing of the Butcher of Blaviken. Nevertheless she’d taken advantage of it. It almost hurt more, realizing just how right she was. Eskel was a shadow of the man Geralt was. He’d fought through hordes of soldiers to save her, for no personal gain other than her favor. Risked his life countless times, even treated her like a lady on occasion. He wasn’t the most romantic man, true, but he didn’t lack for spirit or passion. It ached to remember him. The elven bath in the ruin, that mischievous glint in his eyes, the smirk. He flinched when he saw her naked, then tore off his clothes to jump in after her, nearly tripping along the way. It was… cute to see him so frazzled. After the stunning beauty that Yennefer had become, she had thought she would never make him swoon for her. True, she was fit. Some men even favored red heads. It had hurt to think she was a wilted flower beside her friend though. An additional strain on the relationship. But Geralt watcher her with eyes that flickered from near predatory desire to childlike wonder for a time. Gods she had missed him.
    And then back he strolled, right in on her meeting in Putrid Grove, bartering as if her life depended on it. Her life did depend on it, of course. It was hard to hide in a basement next to the fish market, the smell of fish and the stench of rotting meat never left her nose these days. A far cry from the oils, candles, perfumes and colognes of her past life. Into this, with Triss about as debased as she had felt since she was held tortured by Letho’s men, Geralt had walked. Memory restored.
    She had tried to duck out then. It had been too difficult meeting his eyes. It was always hard to read those vertical pupils, but his expression had softened when he looked at her. Bedlam had noticed too, damn him. Triss wondered why Geralt would hold anything but suspicion and hostility for her. She had, after all, used his amnesia to worm her way into his bed. Triss imagined she wouldn’t have been so kind had their roles been reversed. If someone had used amnesia to trick her into leaving Geralt, she certainly wouldn’t have any sympathy for them upon waking.
But when she tried to excuse herself he had followed. Offered to help. Swam in the filthy channel to retrieve her lost implements. Haggled on her behalf with Brandon. Defended her when Radovid’s goons were set on her. Again, he risked life and limb for her. She hadn’t even paid him first! She was sure that was against some ancient witcher code somewhere. She smiled through her tears.
She paused a moment, considering the rose in her hands. Come to think of it, shouldn’t it have wilted now? Surely now that Geralt remembered Yennefer he loved her and not… Perhaps the magic only cared if the rose were given in love? But then what sustained the spell? Surely a flower so fragile it required a blood sacrifice to grow couldn’t be sustained by a discreet act of love. Yet there it be, blooming as if he still loved her. Impossible. Another sob racked her chest.
“What was I thinking, inviting him here!”
“I come at a bad time?”
Whirling, she saw him. Damn. Crying so much I don’t even notice the Butcher of Blaviken walk in.
“No,” she managed to stammer while dashing tears from her cheeks “now’s fine.”
    She even managed to muster a small smile for him. Why now of all times. She hadn’t thought to see him until at least tomorrow. Never in her wildest thoughts would he come to her immediately. It had scant been an hour since he had set off, back fading into the dim sun and smog of the Novigrad evening. Candles flickered around them, on the meager desk and on the small bed frame that made up her abode. She was embarrassed, frankly. It was hardly the kind of dwelling she wanted to invite handsome men home to. Though she supposed, upon review, that this was preferable to him walking in on her chained to the wall, blood crusted on her lips and eyes swollen nearly shut. At least then she had felt relieved when he walked in the room. Now she was more nervous than ever.
“See you kept that Rose of Remembrance I gave you back in Flotsam”
“Seems so long ago. Probably because so much has changed.” 
    Setting the rose aside, not wanting to dwell on it with Geralt right here, she turned back. Now would be a good time to change the subject. Anything would be better than this. Well, maybe not stories of Geralt and Yen’s love-life. That might send her over the edge. Ciri. That was a safe topic. She opened her mouth to try and divert this before the conversation spiraled out of her control, but he beat her to the punch.
“How long you been in Novigrad?”
“Long enough to know how not to get caught, and to survive.” “And before you came here, where were you?”
“Oh, places… where I managed to get by without your help, too.”
    Too biting, she could tell. He even averted his eyes at that one. Damn him, why did he have to pry? She was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ready for his questions to get personal again. A sigh, a grimace. She didn’t want to chase him away, but she needed some time to gather her thoughts.
“Which doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you...”
    Eyes averted, fidgeting with her hair, feet dragging side to side in the sand of the floor. Damn, he’s got me acting like I’m twelve years old again, nervous in front of a boy. It’d be too much to ask that he not notice. Witchers tended to notice everything. Even the dim light wouldn’t hide her blush from him, certainly not at this distant. She could tell he’d washed up a bit, he didn’t smell of river and sewage anymore.
“You know Triss, it's good to see you again”
    Good? To see me? She could barely keep up with today. It’d been bewildering enough to see him again, but this? This was too much. She wanted nothing so much as to run into his arms again. What would he do? Triss hadn’t the foggiest idea what Geralt intended by coming here.
“Your rose is still blooming I see. Almost as red as your hair too.”
    Compliments? She raised her head only to see the man blushing. Blushing! A nervous laugh escaped her lips. Was this a dream?
“Flatterer. Tis a far deeper shade of red than my hair. Your rose is far prettier too,” she said, gently caressing one petal with her left hand.
Taking a moment to revel in the feel, the texture. Soft as silk, nearly creamy on her skin, and redder than blood. A fitting memoriam of their time together. She’d always wished for more stable times, when great gouts of fire and magic were less necessary. She never wanted to live in such troubled times. Perhaps she’d been born at the wrong time, the wrong age. Maybe a hundred years from now…. 
She stifled the thought. She’d trade no amount of shame and suffering for her time with this witcher. Smiling broader this time, she looked back up at him. His eyes had followed her fingers, and she left a finger on the rose petal in what she hoped was a dainty gesture.
“Explain something to me, Witcher.”
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Risking Stars
Hanktonio (Hank Voight/Antonio Dawson) established relationship, multi-chapter (#risking stars)
Summary: His heart was pounding in his ears, the frigid air stinging his face. He was shaking, whether it was the cold, the adrenaline or the fear, he didn’t know. He didn’t care about any of that right now though. The only thing he cared about was finding Antonio. *~*~*~*~* Hank Voight has absolute confidence in his team’s abilities. However, some things were not within their power to control, and that could mean life or death for any of them.
Warnings: Non-consensual drug use, some violence, a bad word here and there, PTSD
Inspired by, and for @hardcore-flower!
(chapters one & two)
Epilogue 
**New warning added (PTSD), be aware**
Open your eyes. Come on. Please.
Leaning down, he gives Antonio another breath, and brings a hand up to his partner’s cheek as he pulls away.
His fingers travel down to the pulse point on his neck, and as they linger, he chokes on his own breath.
Nothing.
No beat, no flutter, no pulse.
Don’t do this, please.
His hands go to Antonio’s chest, fingers interlace, and he starts compressions.
He feels the panic mounting as he reaches the end of the first set and ducks down quickly to once again help push air into his lungs.
When there is no response and he starts the next set, he feels his heart trying to pound out of his chest, his breath is coming out in gasps.
No no no…
He gasped awake, eyes flying open. He laid still, trying to catch his breath, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, and brought a shaking hand up to his chest.
When his heart stopped hammering, and he could control his breath, he became aware of a chill on his left, and looked to the other side of the bed. He felt panic trying to reignite when he saw that the space was empty.
Forcing himself to stay calm, he moved to get out of bed and walk to the stairs.
He saw a dim light filtering out from the kitchen, and took a breath, making his way over. What he saw inside hit him with a pang of sadness.
Antonio looked exhausted. He was slumped over the table, his head in his hand and his eyes covered. A glass of water sat in front of him, still full.
“Antonio” He called quietly so as not to startle the man.
Yet, he still jumped a bit, looking over to Hank quickly at his name.
“Are you okay?”
The way Antonio looked down at the question pretty much answered for him. So, with a quiet sigh, Hank walked over to the table, pulling a chair a little closer to Antonio’s, without crowding him.
When he sat down, laid a hand over his - they were cold, - and there was still no response, Hank tried again, “Did you get any sleep?”
Antonio shrugged, and Hank was at a loss. He wanted to help, but where to start?
“Talk to me, please?”
Still the other man stayed quiet, this time, dropping his head down to the table, hiding his mouth behind his crossed arm.
Hank waited, rubbing small circles into Antonio’s hand.
With a sniff, Antonio finally spoke after a few moments, his voice barely a whisper, “I can’t,” he blew out a breath, “When I start to drift off… I panic. And then, I can’t move, and it’s like a weight is sitting there, right on my chest, and I can’t breathe.”
His voice broke at that last part, and so did Hank’s heart. Not only that, but so did the dam keeping back his anger - at himself, at the men responsible for making Antonio feel this way, at this whole situation.
He reigned in that anger though, and focused on the man he loved who was hurting.
He pulled himself closer to Antonio, and Antonio leaned right into him. Hank wrapped his arms around him, pressing his lips to Antonio’s head as he rested against Hank’s shoulder.
Inside, Hank was berating himself for not seeing it. Even if he had been busy the past three days with wrapping up the case and the investigation with Internal Affairs, he should have seen that Antonio wasn’t sleeping these past two nights. Not to mention that first restless night when he had gotten him back.
Antonio had told him he didn’t clearly remember that night. The time from Cuenca dragging him to the lake until Hank had come home with bruised knuckles - and still some after -  was veiled in a heavy fog to him, with only a flash of something here and there. But Hank should have known that even though Antonio couldn’t remember everything, it was possible he’d still feel the effects of what he’d gone through.
“God, I’m sorry,” Antonio croaked, wiping his face, and that tore Hank up inside.
“Hey, no,” he soothed, placing his hand on Antonio’s cheek to turn his face to his own, “don't do that. You have nothing to apologize for,” he said the words firmly, while trying to be as gentle as possible.
He held Antonio’s gaze in his, until, finally, Antonio nodded. Hank pulled him in for a hug, as he thought about his next words.
“Listen,” he began, pulling back and stroking Antonio’s cheek, “I want you to consider talking to someone. Dr. Charles,” he added, remembering how the man had helped Erin through her rough patch years ago. They could trust him.
To Hank’s concern, Antonio dropped his eyes and turned his head away.
“Antonio?”
“I’m sorry I let this happen again.”
He was actually taken aback for a second, and tried to backtrack quickly, and figure out what had just happened.
‘Again’? What…
‘I’m sorry. They made me. I didn’t want to.’
Hank’s eyes widened. If Antonio also remembered when Erin had begun meeting with the psychiatrist, he may believe Hank thought of Dr. Charles for exactly the wrong reason.
“No,” he jumped in quickly, hoping to put a stop whatever the man was thinking, “Antonio, look at me, please,” he requested, taking his hand, “this is not the same. You had no control over this, okay?” Please look at me.
As if hearing Hank’s silent plea, Antonio did look at him.
“I just want you to talk to him so you can rest, alright?”
At Antonio’s short nod, he gave him a smile and pulled him in for a kiss, “I love you.”
Antonio’s small answering smile, and “I love you, too,” made his heart swell and true peace wash through him for the first time that night.
*~*~*~*~*
“So what should I call you?”
Antonio squirmed a bit in his seat, his gaze flickering away guiltily, “Antonio.”
Santos nodded, looking consideringly at Antonio in silence for a few moments, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
At this Antonio smiled softly, “Thanks to you.” He was glad that it was one of the things he could remember, that Santos helped him, even though Cuenca had been there, even though Antonio had lied.
Santos’ face fell and he swallowed hard, “None of that should have happened. Enrique shouldn’t have done that. I never should have let myself be involved in that.”
“No. You’re right,” Antonio agreed, “But in the end, you did what was right. If it wasn’t for your help, I’d be dead in the dirt, leaving behind my loved ones.
He waited until Santos met his eyes before adding, “I won’t forget that.
“I’ll put in a good word for you with the State’s Attorney, do whatever I can to make sure you’re taken care of.”
Antonio smiled at Santos’ surprised stare. He meant it all. Not to mention, he remembered Santos telling him about his family: the reason he worked in Cuenca’s ripping crew.
“Thank you,” Santos managed quietly.
“Also, if your daughter and grandson need anything, you let her know they can come to me, okay?”
Antonio made to get up, but Santos’ spoke again, “I can’t do that.”
Confused, Antonio waited for him to elaborate.
“She came to see me. She was angry, said she wanted nothing to do with me, with a criminal,” Santos shook his head, “I did it all for them, but now I’ve just become another person who’s left her.”
“I’m sorry,” Antonio told him, sadly, “Maybe, one day, she’ll come around,” he suggested. It may not have been his place, he didn’t know his daughter, but he couldn’t stand to see this man, a fellow father, hurting like this. And for doing something immoral, for his child. He could relate after all.
Santos shrugged, “Maybe,” Hopefully.
Antonio gave him a nod and got up to knock on the door, to let the guard know he was ready to go.
“Antonio,” Santos called shakily, as the door opened, “be there for the ones you love. That’s what matters.”
*~*~*~*~*
“Sergeant Voight.”
Hank’s blood boiled in his veins. He wanted to smack that stupid grin off the man’s face. How he could sit there, after everything he’d done, and laugh…
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
He glared, “Detective Medrana’s body was recovered yesterday.”
Montgomery’s face turned cold and he leaned back into his chair.
“He was executed and dumped in the river.”
The other sergeant - former sergeant - stayed silent, his face blank.
“Really?” Hank asked in disbelief, “Nothing?” He leaned forward, “A man in your unit was killed, his family lost a father, because you wanted a payday.
“As if that wasn’t enough,” Hank continued, voice rising, “you sold out my guy and almost cost him his life, too! You betrayed all of us, and what we stand for.”
The other man finally broke, “Who are you to lecture me? The great Hank Voight,” he sneered. “As if you’ve never gotten your hands dirty, been in bed with the scum of Chicago. We all know who you are.
“Twenty-eight years,” Montgomery shook his head, “Twenty-eight years, I served this city, tried to make the world a better place. But it just got worse. Not just out there, but in the very place we pinned badges to our chest and swore an oath to serve mankind. My job cost me everything, and I was left with nothing. It’s all for nothing. So why not take something for myself for once.”
Hank stared at him in disbelief, “No. You think you’re the first cop who’s ever had doubts about the work we do; to lose your way? You think you’re the only one who has lost everything on the job? You’re not special, Montgomery. Nothing in this world is worth killing and betraying your own - others who felt just as lost as you, but kept fighting.”
Montgomery’s furious expression was still on his face, but what truly disturbed Hank was the absence of any remorse. The man was beyond redemption.
Shaking his head, Hank pushed up from his seat and went to bang on the door, “We’re done here.”
He turned back to Montgomery one last time, “You’re going to rot here, in this prison. I’m gonna make sure of that.”
*~*~*~*~*
“Hey,” Antonio greeted, as he turned around to close the front door. While he turned to hang up his jacket, he realized Hank hadn’t said anything.
“Hank?” He asked, walking into the living room. The man in question was sitting on the couch, eyes on the bottle of beer he was twisting around on his knee. Antonio sat next to him, his side pressed against the back of the couch to face him fully, “Is everything okay?”
With a sigh, Hank finally spoke, “I went to see Montgomery.”
Concern filled Antonio at the thought of Hank having to face that low-life again, “What did he want?”
He was confused when Hank shook his head, “No, I wanted to talk to him.”
Oh, that honestly surprised him, and he didn’t know what to say for a moment. “How did it go?” He wanted to smack himself the moment the question left his mouth. His partner’s behavior already told him it likely hadn’t gone well.
But, why had he gone? When there was no response, he decided to go in a different direction, “Did you find what you were looking for?”
At that, Hank shook his head.
Antonio sighed, “I’m sorry,” he told him, sincerely, nudging Hank’s fingers lightly with his own.
“I don’t know what I was expecting,” Hank sighed, “I’ll never forgive him for,” he trailed off and looked over to him, “He doesn’t feel sorry for what he did. He doesn’t deserve any sympathy.”
Antonio nodded, trying to catch up, “What’s really bothering you?”
Hank took a moment, then he asked, still deep in thought, “How does that happen? Everytime I see it, there’s always a small part of me that wonders, what separates me from them?”
So much separated Hank from someone like Montgomery, Antonio didn’t know where to begin.
“We both know how easily everything can spiral out of control,” He started slowly, “But I think, at least for me, we remember why we do it and who we do it all for: family, the people of Chicago, someone we love. Or we need a kick in the ass back in the right direction,” he added with a shrug, because it was true.
“You,” he continued, laying a hand atop Hank’s, “are a good man. You give your heart and soul to the job. You never lose sight of what’s important. And I love you, for that and so much more.”
Smiling, Antonio lifted Hank’s hand to place a kiss, then pushed himself up off the couch, “I’m gonna get started on some dinner.”
“Hey.”
He turned back at Hank’s call, curious.
Hank got up and stood right in front of him, taking holding his face in his hands, “Thank you, for always bringing me back. I love you.” And with that, Hank pulled him in for a kiss.
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embracehappy · 5 years
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Tour starts today! and I had a dream (AU vibes)
HAPPY DAY 1 OF TOUR! We love our dude and he even managed to sneak into my dreamland last night. I hope you all get the opportunity to see Shawn at some point over the next year! This tour is gonna be so good!
So this is silly, but here’s what I dreamt last night:
So somehow I had gotten tickets to the opening show - on the floor, in the center, second row from the stage. And somehow I had gotten there really early before like almost any crowds had started filling the arena. And suddenly a few stadium people come out and they started taking down the seats in the front row. I ask what they’re doing. They said that it was confirmed the whole first row wasn’t coming and the since show starts soon so they’re just removing the seats and giving the second row a better view. (weird) So now I’m sitting first row with some space for dancing right next to the stage. I take note of my surroundings. The arena has started to fill up, but not really. Also the person seated to my left is now here. (We’ll name him Tim) I knew him in high school and quit frankly I didn’t and still don’t like him that much. He’s annoying. But he starts trying to make small talk with me and since I’m about to have to spend this whole concert next to him, I decided that I should be nice and talk so that I can act like an idiot later when I’m singing and dancing along - No bad vibes at a Shawn concert allowed. So after a bit, the arena still isn’t as full as I think it should be (I must’ve gotten there way earlier than I thought I had. Like first in the doors when they opened or somn.) This is when it gets exciting. 
Out of the corner of my eye I see a figure in a black hoody overseeing the removal of the last of the chairs. He’s on the stage but somehow almost unnoticeable. And then we make eye contact. It takes a second to register, but I quickly realize that it was indeed Shawn Mendes. I smile because I was genuinely having a good time watching the buzz in the arena grow. And then I couldn’t believe what happens next. Shawn smiles back. Then he crouches down and tells one of the arena workers something. He moves across the stage and sits on it’s edge directly in front of me. Somehow NO ONE in the arena is bothered to care that Shawn is on the stage. I walk up to the barrier with a confused look on my face and Tim follows suite. Shawn says “hi welcome to the show!” and his smile gets a little bigger and he does his grabby wave thing. 
“oh! hey! Shouldn’t you be like backstage doing a meet and greet or something?”
“Oh no! It just ended and I wanted to come out and see how the crowd is forming.”
“Well this is a sold out show. So you’re crowd will love you no matter what.”
Shawn blushes and looks away. 
Concern crosses my face. “wait, are you nervous? You have nothing to be afraid of we’re literally all here to see you. And honestly, even if you sound terrible and the stage falls apart, we’ll still love you and have a great time.”
Shawn chuckles. “I know. It’s just this is the first show and I want this tour to be amazing-”
“You’re going to be great.” I cut him off with a soft voice.
Shawn chuckles again. “I definitely will now that I have a friend in the front row! What’s your name?”
“Jackie” (NOT MY NAME I HAVE NO IDEA WHY MY DREAM CHOSE THIS NAME)
“Well, Jackie - When I need a familiar face I’m going to look at you during the show.” 
“I’ll be here” 
Shawn turns his attention to Tim, slightly curious and afraid suddenly. Almost like he just noticed the dude standing next to me. 
But before Shawn can say anything, Tim slaps my shoulder and says “ Don’t worry man, she’s here for you.”
That must’ve been sufficient for Shawn, because he gives a nod to Tim and then winks at me before getting up and running off off the stage. 
Tim promptly turns to me and freaks out. “Oh my gosh you just got hit on by Shawn Mendes!!” 
I run a hand through my hair. “Don’t broadcast it! Who knows what kind of crazys are be listening!”
“Well, by the end of the show, they’ll all know that Shawn has eyes for you. If the concert goes anything like what just happened., Shawn will barely take his eyes off the front row.”
I blush and laugh, hiding my face. “He better not. Andrew is going to kill him”
Αnd that’s when I feel a strong tug on my arm. And then it cuts to black. 
_____
I wake up and there’s beeping white.
 I’m in a hospital bed. I reach for my phone and see a slew of text messages from Tim. 
“Hey are you okay?” “you said you were fine when you walked out” “Where are you?” “I can’t find you” “the show starts in 5″ “Alessia is on stage” “Where the fuck are you” “Alessia is off stage and the crowd is chanting” “Shawn will be out soon” “Shawn’s on stage” “are you okay?” “Shawn looks heart broken”
And thats where the messages stop. The last one sent 15 minutes ago. I text back and let Tim know I’m in a hospital but have no idea what happened. Tim explains someone pulled my arm and I fell and hit my head. I claimed I was fine and just wanted to go splash some water on my face, so I walked out to go find a bathroom. 
I must’ve passed out somewhere along the way. 
A doctor walks in saying that I don’t have any sign of concussion and that I’m free to go. The excitement must have just been to much for me and I passed out, not necessarily because I hit my head, but more likely because I was overwhelmed. I make my way back to the arena. 
____
At the gate, the security won’t let me in because I’ve already scanned my ticket and reentry isn’t allowed. Suddenly I recognize someone from Shawn’s team walking by. I call out and frantically explain to them that I fainted and was taken to the hospital, but was cleared and I really just wanted to watch the final portion of the concert but I can’t get back in. 
Shawn team member look confused and pulls out their phone. “let me just make a quick call.” They walk out of earshot.
The team member hangs up and walks back to me and the security guards. “Okay so I just called Andrew and his description of the fainting girl looks like you, so I’m going to let you back in. But you can’t go to your seat you have to come with me.”
At this point I’m just glad I’m being allowed back in. I follow the team member around the arena and then up a bunch of stairs. Eventually we come to a door and the team member lead me inside. 
It’s a box. But not just any box. It’s full of random lower level team members that don’t have jobs during the actual show itself and have no reason to be backstage. I read some of the name badges and see mostly truck drivers, but I did spot a personal trainer. The view was pretty bad considering I was originally front and center at first row, but these definitely aren’t the worst seats in the house. I shoot Tim a text with an update. 
After a while I’m comfortable. Or at least as comfortable as I could get in an uncomfortable situation. I really did just want to be back on the floor. I get a text from Tim saying “he keeps looking at me, looking for you. I’m going to point to your box.” 
The show continues and then when Shawn is running across the stage during the bridge of Mutual, I hear it. 
“Jack come down!” 
The arena screams in confusion. But I know who he’s talking to. My phone pings, no doubt a message from Tim. I’m shifting my weight trying to decide the best way to get out of the room. Mutual ends and the pause between songs seems a little longer that it should be, probably just first show hiccup I think. 
Half way through the next song, Andrew busts into the box. His eyes are quickly darting around. “You! Jackie! Come on!” Andrew walks out of the room quickly, assuming I’ll follow. And he’s right, I run after him, suddenly very afraid that I’m about to get thrown out. 
Andrew is mumbling something under his breathe about “of course Shawn would meet the one that faints” or something along those lines. Once we’re in an empty area, Andrew turns to me. 
“Okay so here’s the thing. Shawn seems to like you I don’t know how, because there wasn’t a meet and greet and I told him directly not to go on stage prematurely. But anyway - You’re going to go back to your seat on the floor, and after the concert you’re going to stay there and not leave. Someone will come get you. Okay?” 
“got it” 
Andrew points to the entrance to the floor. And I walk that way holding up my floor wristband to be allowed back in. 
As soon as I walk in I feel like Shawn’s eyes are on me. He follows my walk all the way up to me seat. Where Tim had to help me reclaim dominance of the spot. Considering that I was absent for the whole show, people moved in. But once I’m standing and moving to the music I see Shawn smile as he looks away, giving the arena his attention again. 
Throughout the remainder show he would occasionally look down and make eye contact with me, and I could usually see that he was trying to suppress a goofy smile, saving it for when he looked back at the crowd.
At the end of the concert, right before Shawn ran off stage he looked over at me and raised his eyebrows. And the movement was so small, but I’m pretty sure he mouthed “stay” too. Clearly not giving a fuck about the rest of his fans anymore. 
I stood and I waited. The bottlenecked exit made the crowd take forever to disperse on the floor. Tim even disappeared at some point, leaving me all by myself, yet surrounded by people. After the crowd finally broke up more, a arena worker in all black comes up to me. “Jackie?” 
I nod my head. 
“follow me.” I follow them through a series of boundaries and hallways. All empty, until suddenly busy. 
“I was told to bring you here, this is the green room. Theres couches you can sit on” 
I walk into the room and find a few of Shawn’s team members in there. Most notably, Brian. I avoid them all and sit on a couch in the corner. After a few minutes Shawn busts into the room in sweat pants and a t shirt. He must have just showered really quick once he was off stage. He also has more people in tow.
He makes his way over to Brian and the crew but he’s looking around the entire time. He hugs every member in the cluster and gets pushed around by Brian and Josiah He eyes fall on me and he smiles calling out “Jackie!” Everyone turns to look at me and I see Andrew roll his eyes. 
“oh hey!” Shawn walks over and grabs my hand pulling me off the couch and towards his friends. 
_________
That night when checking instagram, I receive a dm notification from Shawn. It’s only one line but it stole my breath (and made me wake up)
“Do you want to come on tour?”
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lovemesomerafael · 5 years
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EL AMOR TODO LO PUEDE Chapter 6:  Sometimes It’s Just Easy
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Previous Chapters:  Chapter 1  Chapter 2   Chapter 3  Chapter 4   Chapter 5
Deputy Commander Bryce Abernathy was a dick.  Pure and simple.  Even he knew it.  The problem was, he was actually proud of that.  Being a Deputy Commander meant that he got to wear an impressive uniform and that all his subordinates – and in the CPD there were many - had to speak respectfully and deferentially to him at all times.  He loved that.  He could be as rude or insulting as he wanted, and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it but smile and bend over.  In short, Bryce Abernathy was a bully with a fancy badge.  
And he really, really didn’t like Hank Voight.  Which meant he didn’t like anyone who worked for Voight.  Which meant he didn’t like this snarky girl who was Voight’s assistant, and who kept smiling and saying polite words that, he knew, really meant “Fuck you.”  It was pissing him off.  He’d never have the balls to take Voight on directly, but he had no qualms about squashing his support staff like the inferior life forms they were.
“Listen, Miss, I don’t think you understand.  I’m telling you to give me those files.  That’s a direct order, you understand what that means?  There’s no ‘I’ll have to get back to you’ about it.  When I give you an order, girlie, you obey it.  Now shake that ass and get me those reports.  Now.”
From the corner of her eye, Laura could see Mouse glaring at Abernathy.  Abernathy might be a white shirt, but Mouse thought he might have to take him out for the good of the planet, and was trying to choose from among the many ways he knew to make a silent kill without spilling much blood.
“I understand, Sir, and I’m happy to get them for you.  In fact, as I said, I’ve already ordered them from storage.  When they arrive, I will personally messenger them to your office. I understand you need them, and how important this is to you and the work you’re doing.”
“Don’t blow smoke up my dress, little girl.  You think that works with me?”
She saw Mouse get something from a drawer.  She couldn’t tell what it was, but she could hear him removing whatever it was from its packaging.
“No, Sir.  Of course you’re immune to sycophants.”  She would have bet everything she owned that he didn’t know the meaning of that word.  His momentary stammer confirmed it.
“Yes, well…”
Suddenly Mouse was standing next to Abernathy, reaching a flash drive across Laura’s desk.  She took it from him, having no idea what this was about except that he had just removed the new flash drive from its packaging.
“Sir, I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, I couldn’t help but overhear that you’re working on a very important project.”  He turned to Laura.  “Laura, this is the information Sergeant Voight needs you to prepare for him.  He just called, he’ll be back here any minute and he wants it ready when he gets here.”
Deputy Commander Abernathy began to sputter.  “Now, listen here-“
Mouse went into full-on military mode.  He couldn’t have been more deferential and chain-of-command if he were wearing fatigues.  His entire posture was different, and he held his hands behind his back, standing at parade rest.  Laura plugged in the empty flash drive and clicked and typed a bit. But she was paying no attention to what happened on the screen.  She was entirely focused on the Mouse show.
“Yes, Sir, I’m aware of the nature of your mission.  Perhaps I can help you so Miss Parker can get to work on that information for Sergeant Voight.  As you know, Sir, the Sergeant can be a bit…volatile.  I’m sure when he arrives, you wouldn’t want to have to explain to him why he doesn’t have what he needs for the operation he’s engaged in.  It involves human trafficking, Sir.  Very nasty stuff.”
“Oh, well, of course if that’s the case, I’ll let you get on with your business.”  He was suddenly all accommodation.  To Mouse, at least.  When he turned back to Laura, his overstuffed swagger had returned.  “I’ll expect those files the minute they become available.”
“I’ll make sure you get them, Sir.”  She again smiled sweetly at him, as though he was the most charming man in the world.
“See that you do.”  He turned and strutted toward the stairs to the lobby, with Mouse next to him pouring soothing bullshit in his ear.  
When he returned to the bullpen, Mouse walked, grinning crazily, back to Laura’s desk.  She leaned back in her chair and looked up at him, smiling back into his ridiculously blue eyes.  He leaned over and put a hand on each of the armrests of her chair, then bent his arms and lowered himself to kiss her deeply.  
“I’ll expect those files the minute they become available,” he muttered throatily against her lips.
“I’ll make sure you get them, Sir,” she half-whispered, already a little breathless.  
“See that you do,” he said, beginning to use his tongue to completely erase Deputy Commander Abernathy from her mind.  
**************
Dating Mouse was easy. It was fun.  In the few months they’d been dating, Laura thought she’d laughed and played more than she had since - ever.  Not that he was never serious.  He was deeply romantic.  They laughed and played just as much in bed as out of it, but he could also be tender and sensuous.  Sometimes when he was on top of her, sliding languidly in and out of her, he would just stare deeply into her brown eyes with his blue ones, as though trying to read her mind.  He brought her flowers for no apparent reason, and surprised her with silly little gifts and what he liked to call “Date Upgrades”.  He would tell her that they were going to a movie and then take her to a sold-out play instead.  Once they made plans to spend the weekend in his apartment doing nothing, but when he came to pick her up, he’d driven her to a cabin on Lake Michigan for three days.
Mouse wasn’t out of the woods in terms of his PTSD, either.  He had nightmares and went through periods of hypervigilance and outsized reactions to loud noises and sudden movement.  Laura did what she could and, when it got bad, she tried to be as understanding as she could of his need to be alone, or to spend long periods of time with Jay Halstead.  Only Halstead could really understand what he was dealing with.  
Laura did not understand what happened when they got together because one was having a tough time. Jay had come to Laura’s apartment a couple of times when Mouse was staying there, and she’d let them be alone in the living room while she made herself inconspicuous in the bedroom.  They barely spoke.  They drank beer, just sitting, and occasionally one of them would sigh or make a noise that the other seemed telepathically to understand.  A few times one of them would remind the other about something that had happened, using the minimum of words, and the other would simply grunt recognition or say something like, “Yeah, that sucked.”  Erin had confirmed that it was the same when Mouse came to Erin and Jay’s apartment.  It was the strangest thing Laura had ever seen, but it seemed to work to calm the monsters that occasionally got loose from their memories.  
Mouse and Laura weren’t secretive about their relationship at work, but they did keep flirting to an absolute minimum and never touched or kissed when anyone else was around. Voight seemed to have given up trying to enforce his “no dating within the team” rule, but it still seemed wise to adopt a “don’t ask, don’t tell” approach.  At first, both Kim and Erin had tried to talk her out of dating someone they worked with, but those conversations lasted exactly one sentence and a pointed look from Laura.  There wasn’t much either of them could say about interoffice romance with any credibility, given their histories.  Besides, they liked Mouse and they liked the two of them together.  
Neither Laura nor Mouse thought they were in love.  They weren’t particularly interested in being in love at that point in their lives. But they were deeply attracted to each other and had become best friends.  If love happened, they’d both be happy about it, but it wasn’t on the agenda of things they thought or talked much about.  They were just enjoying what they had.  
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Chapter 17: still not a date because if it was it would be pretty bad and also too much fae magic to be valid
Chapter summary being a very belated callback to the title of Chapter 2; anyway you don’t want to read any note from me, you’re just here for the boys
[Beginning] [Chapter Masterlist] [ao3] 
Going down in the elevator, Apollo realizes first that he doesn’t know what Klavier’s car looks like and won’t know how to find it – and second, that the prior realization is ridiculous, because it’s Klavier Gavin and he has a damned aesthetic. What is Apollo thinking, that he won’t know on sight?
Except that all prosecutors, not just the rock star, have a big salary, and a lot of them seem to like flashy cars (not that Apollo knows anything about cars). He wanders through them, stopping by a bright red one, before deciding that red isn’t Klavier’s color and continuing on.
And he’s right, because Klavier’s car is obvious. It’s a few shades darker and more purple than his bike and his jacket, but similar enough that Apollo wouldn’t feel remiss in saying that apparently, Klavier only really likes one color. The the license plate reads “G4V1NNR” and the band’s logo is emblazoned in white on the trunk. “Classy,” he mutters to the empty lot. He’s not sure why he’s surprised, but he is – Klavier has been at his most reserved, lately, and that is what has been at the forefront of Apollo’s mind.
He wonders where Klavier will go from here, without the band.
He gets a text from Klavier with the address. Some forty minutes outside of the city, in the same direction as the mountains, but they’ll be much further away than he was with Trucy. Safer? Doubtful. He can’t tell if there’s actually something there, some house, or if they’ll just be trekking into the woods again. It’s a strange picture, to imagine Klavier Gavin going hiking. It’s all a strange picture, Apollo here next to this car, their entire little quest, and there are no words that aren’t strange when strung together in an attempt to explain to Clay why he doesn’t know when he’ll be back “after work”. Definitely he’s leaving out the part about the faery ring, but then it sounds like a date, and there is no way that Clay will ever let him live if he makes it home without dying of curses.
Vongole arrives first, a misty white bullet streaking toward the car and then leaping, passing right through it and materializing inside the vehicle. “Nice vanity plates, Narcissus,” Apollo calls.
“Ja, but we can’t all be gods.” Klavier grins, twirling his keys around his finger. “Shall we be off?”
“Does she do that often?” Apollo asks, pointing to the hound that has settled in before either of them have opened the doors. The interior seats and dashboard of the car are lavender. God help him. The nicest car he’s ever sat in is an aesthetic monstrosity. Vongole stretches her neck forward between the seats.
“If I don’t open the window for her, she just sticks her head through the ceiling,” Klavier replies. “Quite unnerving.” Vongole swings her head about and knocks the top of her skull straight into Apollo’s face. “You’ve stolen her seat.”
“Uh-huh.”
This is going to be a long ride.
They are both quiet on the way out of the city, through the streets under the bright afternoon sun. Klavier hums with the radio, and when one of the Gavinners’ songs comes on, he sings along but with words that are not always the ones on the recording. It makes for the weirdest duet Apollo has ever heard, breaking apart and then coming back together, the overprocessed voice from the radio and the Klavier next to him.
His phone buzzes. He braces himself for whatever Clay has to say, squinting down at the screen through one eye, like that will make his best friend more comprehensible or less embarrassing.
“My roommate has a message for you,” Apollo says. “That he’d rather I not die, because he doesn’t want to have to find a new best friend, or more importantly – wow, priorities! – someone to cover my share of rent.”
“Tell him I will do my best to return you home before your curfew,” Klavier says.
“Shut up.”
Apollo doesn’t write that, because the only response Clay deserves for both the rent remark and his other instructions for specifically Apollo, which were “u know u gotta hit that now” and “use protection”, is FUCK YOU. He shoves his phone back in his pocket, deciding now that he will not design to respond to or even check what Clay next has to say, and looks back out the window at the city outskirts. Vongole has indeed stuck her head through the ceiling. Klavier is still humming.
“My high school is somewhere off one of these exits,” Klavier says after the twenty approximate longest minutes of Apollo’s life. “I forget which.” He straightens back up from craning forward to look at the signs above the highway. “Themis Legal Academy – you’ve heard of it?”
“Yeah.” Who hasn’t, really? Most of them at Kristoph’s office hadn’t had that head start, though; Kristoph had rolled his eyes at mention of the school and called it “pretentious.” Pieces, coming together again. “But then didn’t you get your badge abroad?”
Klavier glances at him out of the corner of his eyes. “Yes,” he says slowly, dragging the word out, apparently assessing what Apollo knows, and how. “Two years at Themis, two in Germany via Themis, came back, started a band, fucked up my first case, the rest is history.”
“Ah,” Apollo says. Klavier fiddles with the radio. “Yeah, I did, uh, regular public school, college, those things for ordinary average people.”
Klavier looks right at him to raise his eyebrows in disbelief. “Ordinary?” he repeats, his tone pushing toward sarcastic. “And average, nein, my brother would never settle to hire average.”
Apollo shakes his head. “Yeah, I thought I had it made right out of school, and look where I’ve ended up.”
“In a cool car with the world’s most gorgeous rock star? Still not doing too badly for yourself, I might say.”
“Do people often tell you you’re insufferable?”
Klavier drums his thumbs on the wheel. “Besides you and Fraülein Detective, no, so I find the pair of you a nice change of pace.”
He’s impossible to even insult properly. (Except he did offended when Ema called him a “diva”, so Apollo has that one stored away if he needs it.)
“Not that my brother’s approval should be a litmus for measuring anything,” Klavier adds softly. He looks at Vongole in the rearview mirror and smacks her in the approximation of her chest area. She pulls her head back down inside the car, her ears pulled back in surrender. “Do you think it strange?” he asks. “That I should still call him my brother?”
“No,” Apollo says. “Not really.”
(He doesn’t know what Dhurke is, father or fae and thief, doesn’t know what he would say to him if he deigned to make good on that promise of a lifetime ago, but he knows Nahyuta. He knows his brother is his brother, or maybe he only still hopes he does.)
(He’s thought more about them in the past six months than he has in the past six years. There’s too much weirdness, intertwined with too many painful family histories, for him not to think of his own.)
“Hm,” is all Klavier says in reply.
They turn off the highway after another ten minutes, and it feels again like Trucy leading the way, twisting onto roads smaller and smaller while around them the trees get larger and larger. It might be a driveway that Klavier turns them down, and Apollo hopes it is when he idles the car and gets out to lean on the door and stare at the tree downed in their path, the way the asphalt has broken up into cracks that grass and flowers poke through. “This is it,” he says, ducking back into the car and shutting it off. Vongole vaults through the windshield and down, tearing off into the trees with her legs a blur.
“So what exactly is this?” Apollo asks.
Klavier points up the drive. “We aren’t going that way, but my parents’ house was up there.” He slams the door and it rings loud through the bare trees. The wind swirls across the ground, scooping up the crackling fallen leaves and tossing them about. Apollo shivers. It’s colder here. The sun doesn’t quite seem to reach. “That’s where Kris grew up.”
“Wait,” Apollo says, rubbing his arms. “If he grew up there, then that’s – unless – we’re still in our world, right?”
Klavier rests his elbows on the roof of his car and stares at him. “Herr Forehead,” he says, very seriously. “Of course we are. Of course he grew up here. Kris is the changeling who was switched for me.”
It is obvious – it is incomprehensible. It makes sense, of course, and doesn’t at all. “How old are you?” Apollo asks. Two years older than Apollo, according to his Wikipedia page, but that doesn’t mean anything anymore, not in this territory, not with the fae.
“Technically, if we are to speak by strict calendar terms… thirty-two.”
That’s how old Kristoph is.
“But…” Klavier idly snaps his fingers together. “Actually… I have no idea.” He wiggles his fingers noncommittally. “Somewhere between twenty-two and twenty-six, we figured? Time moves strangely in the Twilight Realm,” he adds, quieter now, and Apollo has to strain to hear him over the wind and rustling leaves. “Especially for human children. So Kris stole my life and my name and my place in my family and now I’m the younger brother.”
He pushes himself back off the car. “Shall we go do what we came here for, or would you prefer to have nothing to do with my life and leave now?”
If Apollo’s come this far, some time weirdness and the chill in the air isn’t going to send him running, but he appreciates the offer. “Which way are we going?”
Klavier steps over a fallen tangle of branches and leads him into the trees. There is no semblance of a path, no place where the grass is beaten down just a little bit as a hint. “The house burned down years ago,” Klavier says. He snaps his fingers together and flips them into a point in that same direction. “Lightning and old wires. We’d moved out long before, after our parents died, but we never got it sold. Or Kris never did; he’d insisted on handling that all himself.”
“When did they die, if you don’t mind me asking?” Apollo puts out a hand to stop tree branches from snapping into his face. The uneven ground, littered with more branches and rocks, causes him several times to stumble in the wake of Klavier’s long stride. Several times he stops and turns back to watch as Apollo catches up.
“Kris was twenty.” A branch snaps beneath Klavier’s foot; he kicks at it but doesn’t send it flying far. “So I was… twelve, on my new, fake, birth certificate.” He shakes his head, snaps a twig off a branch that has come too close to his face. “Funny, ja? To be a lawyer and have all of my paperwork be lies?”
(Me too, Apollo could say, and still he doesn’t.)
“To have had my first and most recent cases be so concerned with a forger, and my parents bought my rights to exist in this world from someone such as that.” The shrug of Klavier’s shoulders is a motion of heaviness and sadness. “Or perhaps it was Herr Misham himself, and that is how my brother knew to go to him for his dirty work. Perhaps we just come full circle again, repeat ourselves.”
“But you did have a real birth certificate,” Apollo says.
He trips on a bush that seems to reach out to hook his foot, and Klavier catches him by the elbow to help him back upright. “Yes, and it was being used by someone else.” His words clip dryly. “What – you think my parents recognized immediately one morning that this little blond baby was not the one they put to cradle the night before? You think one day they renamed their eldest son because they realized what he was and that the name they had chosen was his? Nein, Herr Forehead, do you need me to spell it all out for you?”
“You don’t seem to have a problem with doing that in court,” Apollo says bitterly.
Klavier’s grin, hard at the edges, grows a little softer as it shrinks. “My name, or that was mine when I was born thirty-two years ago, is – was? – Kristoph Gavin. And when they took me, my brother took my name, and I became just some nameless lost child in the high halls of their cold Court.”
The trees open to the low grass of a riverbank. The river – no more than a stream, actually – splashes up against the rocks in the midst of its flow. Klavier takes a running start and bounds it in one leap. Apollo could, probably, as well, but fear and the memory of water choking up in his lungs stops him, roots him like the trees into the ground.
(He and Nahyuta are catching frogs, and their river is large and deep and fast, and Apollo knows if you run at the rocks in the middle, hit them right and spring again, he can be a frog and hop his way over. Nahyuta is faster but Apollo has a head start and he lands on his hands and knees on the other side, jumping back up, panting, and calling to his brother. Nahyuta frowns, his eyes recreating Apollo’s path, careful, calculating, trying to see ahead instead of just barreling forward, and then he runs and jumps. The rock is slick with water at its sides, and Nahyuta lands wrong, too far to the side, flails and falls and the bank crumbles as he claws at it. Apollo lunges for his brother’s hand and can only go in after him, with him, for the current to sweep them away together.)
“Herr Forehead, are you all right?”
“Yeah,” Apollo lies. The bottom of the stream is within view. The worst that will happen is that he soaks his shoes and has to wear different ones – not that he has another pair of dress shoes – tomorrow, and Klavier mocks him forever. And that is not ideal, but it’s better than the alternative, and he forces himself to take it at a run – falters at the edge, gets one foot on one of the rocks in the middle and the other straight into the water. If he falls, at least he’s going forward, might make it halfway on the bank, still won’t have any face left to save.
Klaver grabs him by the hand and drags him the rest of the way to solid ground. His hands are calloused and cold and Apollo, trying to kick some water out of his shoe without taking it off, waits for the mockery.
And waits, because Klavier’s attention has been drawn from him across the field they now stand in. The grass is longer on this side of the stream and dotted with tiny wildflowers. The flowers are thicker and all yellow about three yards away and on approaching Apollo can see that they form a thick circle about six feet wide. Inside there is no grass, only churned dirt and chunks of rocks. “Here we are,” Klavier says. He puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles. Vongole appears like a blinding streak of white lightning, sprinting down from between the trees and stopping for barely a second to look at Klavier. In a flurry of tail and legs she wheels about to face the faery ring and begins to dig around it, tearing up grass and dirt in huge chunks and flinging them about.
Klavier steps back far enough to avoid the flying sod. “So we don’t burn the whole forest down,” he says to Apollo’s questioning look as he sprawls out in the grass, his arms folded behind his head and his shirt riding up his stomach. Apollo glances away. Get it together, Justice, honestly.
Apparently it’s not just the glamour that makes him attractive. Unfair, really. Apollo sits down in the grass, knowing he’ll regret it when he has to deal with laundry, and pours water out of his shoe.
“So that’s where they tossed me out.” Klavier’s eyes are fixed on the canopy of trees that doesn’t quite reach out above them and the cloud-spotted sky in between. “Their magic burned itself out around me and dropped me there, and I – got up, crossed the stream, and walked home. I used to come back out here, sometimes, when we still lived at that house, just stare at it for a little while. It freaked Kris out.” He rolls to his side and props himself up on one elbow, a sculpted statue with a weathered and cracked face. Somehow, he only looks more tired. “Then after our parents died, we moved to an apartment in the city, I went to Themis and then off, and I’ve not been back here ‘till now.”
“How…” It’s an intrusive question, but all of this is intrusive, and Klavier invited it; Klavier told him he could stick around. Klavier asked him to come. And all this after Apollo indicted his brother on charges of murder, twice. If there’s a line to cross, Apollo isn’t quite sure where it is. “How long did you know your parents?”
Klavier holds up two fingers. “Not long,” he says softly. His hand falls to the grass, his eyes falling shut.
“I don’t know anything about mine,” Apollo admits. “Never met them. Grew up in foster homes around here, mostly.”
(It’s not a lie, really. He put in the qualifier “mostly”, and more than half his life should count for such. It’s not a lie; it’s just him becoming like Kristoph, like Phoenix, like Klavier, and their faery ways of toying with the truth.)
“I’m sorry,” Klavier says. He looks taken aback, blinking sharply. They’ve never made small talk, closest they’ve ever come was the conversation about schooling in car, and even that looped back to Kristoph, back to the dark shadows hanging over them. Their conversations have been about magic or cases or about Klavier, his band, with Trucy around as facilitator, or his career, or his brother. Klavier didn’t know how long Apollo worked with Kristoph; Klavier doesn’t know much of anything about Apollo.
And he’s still the person that Klavier let find him, not anyone else who was looking, not his coworker the witch who Klavier just seemed to know better than he knows Apollo.
He’s the one who knew Kristoph; he said that about his bandmates. They didn’t know Kristoph. Apollo did, and he had the magatama, and it’s luck that he’s here now. Luck, the magatama, and Phoenix, always pulling strings and counting cards, who told Apollo that he needed it.
(If it’s chance, he’s still glad he’s here.)
“Mine were good people, as I can understand,” Klavier adds. “That they loved us both, that they didn’t just turn me back out into the cold, that they never called Kris anything less than their son even when they knew for sure.”
“What exactly happened?” Apollo asks. “Why did the…” The faery ring so close, dismantled though it is being, stops his tongue. “The Fair Folk, let you come back?”
Klavier laughs bitterly from the back of his throat, making a horrible grating sound that can’t be good for a singer. “They let me do nothing. I won from them my freedom, made a deal with all the brazen stupid confidence of a child who was one for too long. What would they have done had I lost, I wonder? I didn’t ask; I set my terms for freedom, and they agreed.”
“What did you do?”
“I learned to play music there – it’s strange. The whole Court felt like music – their names, among themselves, they are not names but like sounds, birdsongs and bells and whistles – and all that, and they never tried to pick up an instrument themselves. So I was to, instead, and I did, because I was better at that than I was at lying. And one day I got the fool idea that I would stake my freedom on my playing, and however they judged me, they decided I had earned it, and so…” He makes a throwing motion with his hand. “They tossed me out here.”
Vongole trots over to them and deposits a thick chunk of dirt and grass at Apollo’s feet. “Um,” he says. “Thanks?”
She has solidified into a more doglike shape, enough that he can see her tail swishing back and forth. For all the digging she has done, her paws are not dirty, but the proof of her work is clear to see. She is substantive and not, ghostly and not, and though she doesn’t appear to breathe, when she flops down in front of Klavier, it is with a heavy sigh. He buries his fingers in her fur. Apollo wonders how soft she is.
“And I knew where I was to walk to find the home I was stolen from, and I walked there and I knocked on the door, and Kris opened it.”
Apollo imagines it – Kristoph, an only child, smart and ambitious and beloved of his parents, looking down at a child who looks so much like himself walking up out of the woods. Would he think that Klavier was the fae child? Did he know before then that he himself was--
She didn’t know. Changelings often don’t.
“He didn’t know,” Apollo says. Klavier looks at him, silently, his jaw working. “Kristoph, I mean.” It is weird, calling his former boss by his first name, but Gavin is both of them. “What you said about Vera, about changelings – you know that because he didn’t know.”
“Now you’re using whatever’s behind that big forehead.” Klavier reaches out and prods him in the forehead with one finger. “Yes. He was eighteen and then – there I was.”
So Klavier was ten, roughly, after eighteen years in the Twilight Realm. Kristoph had already had time to grow up, probably about to head to college, or just had – and Apollo can’t imagine him ever being anything but so staunchly certain. He must have been sure of himself, of who he was and what he wanted to do with the world at his fingertips.
“I suppose now that maybe he resented it,” Klavier says. “That he thought he was human, and found out he wasn’t from his little brother-doppelganger who didn’t have a name or even the faintest idea of what it meant to be human simply appearing on the doorstep. Our parents homeschooled me for those two years, to try and accustom me to what is normal.”
“I don’t think you did a good job of learning it,” Apollo says. “Rock star prosecutor, really, you thought that was normal?”
“Why shouldn’t I have? It used the two skills I learned best from the court – to entertain, and to lie.” He grins a little, and in Apollo’s eyes it eases the red flash in the twitch of his fingers from lie to not well conveyed sarcasm. “Why are so many of the Fair Folk lawyers?”
“Because it’s the closest they can come to lying,” Apollo answers, almost rote now.
He doesn’t stop grinning, entirely, but it falls to a sad smile, his lips pressed together. “Ach, so you heard that punchline from him as well.”
“I was never really sure whether it was a punchline or a serious answer,” Apollo admits.
Klavier’s grin springs back wider. “He did that on purpose,” he says. “The double-take, that was always the real punchline for him.” And there, he looks away, the smile frozen beneath his tired eyes. “I learned how to be human from him, little sense as that might seem to you. Our parents were there, quite certainly, but he was – me. He looks like me, he sounds like me, he has the name and life I should have – so I looked to him.”
Kristoph Gavin may not have grown up with the fae, but he knew, innate or learned, their pettiness, and murdered two men and ruined many other lives for it. Klavier falling apart over missing keys and a missed cue makes more sense than ever.
And their uncanny resemblance, when Apollo always thinks that Klavier seems like his brother – it’s the other way around.
“And that is it, ja?” Klavier sits up. Vongole lifts her head, sighs, and lays it back down. “I came back and named myself; my parents got the papers, somehow, to give me an identity and an age, got their second son; they died, we moved, then Kris packed me off to Themis’ dorms; then Germany, and you know it all from there.”
Yes, Apollo knows from there, and what Apollo knows now of Klavier’s history is more than he knows of his own. Klavier knows where he grew up, that he was stolen and why he was relinquished; Klavier knows how his brother is like and unlike him. Apollo knows none of it for Apollo, and all of it for Klavier.
Well, except for that one new piece.
“You named yourself?”
“Herr Forehead.” Dammit, and he had been doing so well at keeping up with Klavier. “You didn’t think my parents really named me this?”
“I don’t know!” It wasn’t something he dwelled on: it was simply Klavier, like the rest of his tacky showboat aesthetic, and Apollo moved on to more important things. “My name is literally Apollo Justice, so how am I supposed to know what people do or don’t name their kids?”
Klavier is still chuckling, shaking his head so that his hair begins falling loose again. “I named myself,” he says, sounding more serious than he looks. “After the instrument I won my freedom with.” He looks back at Apollo, pale blue eyes peering out at him, and forestalls the question that he must see on Apollo’s lips. “I took up singing, and guitar, after I came back. In the Court, I played the piano.”
“Do you still?” All the things he could say – what is he supposed to say? – and it’s just more questions to distract Klavier from laughing at him about the matter of names. Nothing in his rhetoric classes was meant to prepare him for dealing with an exhausted and broken-down courtroom rival’s life story.
“No.” Klavier plucks up a piece of grass, pressing it between his forefingers and bringing it up to his lips to make a loud, piercing whistle. Vongole scrabbles upright, her ears swiveling about, her eyes burning brighter. The grass falls slowly when Klavier lets it drop and Vongole snaps at it with her long jaws. “I could never make it sound right, the way it did back then, so I stopped trying.” His eyes are glazed-over, half dead, and his words ring with that same level of exhaustion, carrying with them a knife to Apollo’s chest. I stopped trying aren’t words he thinks he should hear Klavier of all people say.
“Lamiroir and Herr Tobaye were the closest I’d ever heard to the music I remember,” Klavier continues. “Of course I had to perform with them, ja? Of course I had to give them the biggest stage I could.” He shakes his head. “Ah, dear Lamiroir – I hope she’s doing well. She doesn’t deserve all that she has been through.”
Apollo might not agree with Klavier’s musical sensibilities for his band, but when it comes to Lamiroir, their tastes align. Her voice still seems like something out of a dream.
“I suppose we should get to what we came here for,” Klavier says heavily, rolling up onto his feet with some visible reluctance in having to do so. From his jacket pocket he takes a box of matches.
“D’you think it’ll be that easy?” Apollo asks. The ring, encircled by the torn-up earth, is made of perky, alive plants. Those don’t burn easily; those aren’t tinder. “Should we have gotten gasoline?”
Klavier shakes his head. “Winter’s things don’t do well with fire.” He strikes the match, crouching to touch it to the thick canvas of flowers, and he springs back, dropping the match into it, as the flowers are engulfed in an instant blaze, like they were dealt with by Datz with gasoline and a flamethrower. Smoke rises from the conflagration, white, almost clear, almost like mist. In some way it resembles Vongole, but when Apollo looks for her, she has retreated halfway to the river, pressed low to the ground, ears back and hackles raised. She, too, doesn’t do well with fire?
The flames burn themselves out in a few minutes, crackling until there is an abrupt silence, almost as quickly as it began. It leaves no ashes behind, but the ground looks wet, like something melted there instead. “It seems quite silly, now,” Klavier says. “That it should be so easy, after it haunted me for so long.”
If he was any good at reassurance, Apollo would have said something profound and helpful long before now. Of course, the one person to manage to get through to Klavier had to be the worst one for the job, probably.
“No changing that now, I suppose,” he continues, offering Apollo a weak grin. He puts his back to the ruined ring first, striding away with a feigned confidence that almost succeeds. Apollo casts one last look at the damp, destroyed earth, and follows. Klavier has already stopped, one hand in his hair, staring up at the trees. “No going back, quite sure as I am that we might like to.” Another weak grin that holds out a second or two longer than the first. “Just not sure where to go from here.”
“Story of my life,” Apollo mutters.
Klavier laughs. “Ach, well, we have each other’s good company for it, ja?”
“Not exactly the way I’ve wanted to be in the same league as a rock star, but sure, I’ll take it.”
“You are near my level in the courtroom, how about?”
“Near?” If Apollo is good for anything, it seems to be as a distraction from the harrowing distant and recent pasts, which could almost be okay if it wasn’t Klavier’s particular brand of carrying on an irreverent conversation that he has to deal with. “I’ve beaten you three times in court, Gavin!”
“I should hope you did; your clients were innocent of the murder charges.” That he specifies murder charges stings: Vera the forger, Machi the smuggler, Wocky the gangster. My kingdom for a client who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, no other weirdness. But Klavier is near-impossible to argue with outside of court, so Apollo will just settle for the next time they face each other in court and Apollo kicks his ass, again.
On reaching the stream again, Apollo takes the jump at a run, and doesn’t hesitate.
“Have you ever heard it alleged that the fae can’t cross running water?” Klavier asks. He plucks a stone up from the dirt and tosses it into the water. The ripples momentarily interrupt the flow but the water soon comes back together like nothing ever parted it.
“No,” Apollo says. “Isn’t that vampires?”
“Vampires aren’t real.”
“I know they aren’t. I’m just saying, isn’t that what—”
“Perhaps. I did hear it about the fae, once, though.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Apollo says. “How could they not? Like, what counts as running water? I don’t think Mr Gavin ever had trouble walking out on rainy days because, oh no, there’s water running on the sidewalk—”
“Forget I asked,” Klavier says, but even with a hand over his mouth he is unabashedly snickering.
“No,” Apollo says. “I won’t, because that’s stupid, and I’m going to argue it.”
“I didn’t say it was true!” Klavier throws his hands in the air. “I asked if you had heard it, and I did not say that I—” He stops, folding further over himself, hands on his thighs and shoulders shaking with laughter.
“What?” Apollo asks.
“Imagine Kris, stranded on the street in front of his office, all because he can’t just step across the gutter.”
“I told you it’s stupid,” Apollo says, but Klavier only looks up at him, wheezing with laughter again. “I mean – you have the water right here, your house wasn’t too far, didn’t you ever…?”
Klavier straightens back up. His hair is falling loose and he pulls it down entirely, again, slipping the hair band onto his wrist. The shadows cast by the sun are lengthening, the light spilling golder on them both, and it breathes a bit of colorful life back into Klavier’s hair. Vongole, too, seems to take on a lesser yellow-gold hue. “Oh, he came out this way after me, certainly, but he just stood on this side and yelled at me to come back. Never crossed, which is why I thought about it. I suppose maybe he was afraid to get too close.” With a flick of his head, he tosses his hair back behind his shoulders. “He was certainly afraid I would get snatched again. Sounded frantic every time he called me back, if you can believe that.” His eyes harden. When he speaks again, he has abandoned his accent entirely, and if Apollo has thought he sounded like Kristoph before, he was wrong. That was Kristoph breaking through an accent faltering with stress and anger. This is intentional. “‘You know how worried I am that one day I’ll come out here and you’ll be gone, Klavier? That I’ll be too late to get you home again? What do you think you’re doing?’”
The tone he puts to Kristoph’s voice is half-scolding, half apparently-real concern. Was that how Kristoph really sounded, or just how Klavier remembers him? Apollo can’t square away the way Klavier’s imitation borders on frantic with the Kristoph he saw speaking to him in that trial – the Kristoph that Phoenix implied existed further behind closed doors, further belittling and dismissive.
Maybe the changeling was just like the fae of the court, in wanting a human child who had the ability to lie.
Or maybe that was before something shriveled up inside his heart. Maybe once he loved his younger twin.
“I’m sorry,” Apollo says. “I can’t imagine…” Imagine what? To be stolen away? (Wasn’t Apollo?) To find out what someone he clearly loved and admired was truly like? (Apollo admired Kristoph. Apollo loved Dhurke, but he doesn’t know what he truly was.) To so painfully lose a brother?
(He wonders who Nahyuta has grown up to be.)
Klavier doesn’t say anything. Maybe it’s better when Apollo distracts, redirects, argues. Maybe it’s better not to try the emotional stuff, the comfort, the condolences, now that he’s not a kid anymore, sitting next to Clay and screaming “I’m fine!” at the stars. He doesn’t think Klavier would take to that so well. It’d get him smiling again, but only to make fun of Apollo again.
They walk back to the car with no sound but the rustling leaves. When Vongole streaks between the branches, she is silent, and nothing moves with the breeze of her passing. Apollo expects the walk to take longer, the way he got lost with Trucy, Clay, and Ema, but Klavier cuts a confident path back through the trees and the driveway and the car appear before them. Vongole is nowhere to be seen; Klavier whistles again, and she materializes, still but for her wisping feathery fur off her legs and tail, on the hood of the car.
“Where did she come from?” Apollo asks. “Like, originally?”
“Kris summoned her, I would presume.” Klavier watches Vongole step through the windshield and into the passenger seat. “What he sold, when, and for what exactly he wanted a hunting hound, I don’t know.” He leans against the hood, propping a foot up on the bumper. “She met me off the plane. I wasn’t sure if she was an omen, I was about to die, or what.”
“Yeah,” Apollo says. “Me, too, when I saw her outside my apartment the first time.”
Klavier frowns. “I suppose she had to be up to something once Kris was behind bars, before I was back.” He says it more like he is musing to himself, not trying to pull Apollo into that thought at all. “She still does wander off sometimes,” he adds, louder, “but she’s so decided I am her handler and sticks around.”
“She’s turned up at the office, too. Mr Wright was the one who told me that she was yours.”
Vongole’s head emerges from the car roof. Apollo jumps.
“I hope she hasn’t made too much of a nuisance of herself,” Klavier says, his voice low and dangerous and clearly a warning to the hound, who lowers her head and shrinks back down into the car. Klavier tilts his head back up toward the sky.
“Could you see the mountains from your house?” Apollo asks. He’s noticed all afternoon that Klavier keeps casting glances to the sky, looking for something.
“No, fortunately.” He pushes himself up off the car and moves around to the driver’s side door, shooing Vongole into the back as he does so. “About fifteen minutes up the road there’s a spot along the shore where you can see them. Kept coming back there even after we moved.”
He doesn’t ask. He leans on the door for a moment, looking at Apollo, twisting a few strands of hair around his fingers. Apollo pops his door open. Then: “Sure.”
Even with the magatama’s steady glamour-breaking effect, Klavier’s eyes still seem to light up.
-
“Oh, hell no,” Apollo says.
“That’s quite a bit more protestation than you gave the faery ring.”
Apollo crosses his arms over his chest. “Yeah, because I trusted you that it really was dormant or whatever. I don’t trust high cliffs or bottomless expanses of water!”
The “spot” that Klavier mentioned is a high, steep cliff overlooking a rocky beach. If it weren’t October, with the chilly wind biting with more strength at them, they probably wouldn’t be alone. It would probably be beautiful, for anyone who isn’t Apollo. But he is Apollo, standing at the side of the road next to Klavier’s car, and Klavier is halfway up the slope, grinning down at him.
“You don’t have to stand at the edge,” Klavier says. “I used to come out here a lot – brought Daryan too, sometimes. Stood on the edge and neither of us died, ja?”
Apollo huffs but follows him up.
If he looks back out at the road or toward the land, he is fine. If he doesn’t look down, he is fine, until he looks out over the ocean and thinks about how easy it would be to drown, to plummet down and down and get swallowed up by the horrible maw of the dark waters. He plants himself ten feet from the closest edge and ignores everything that Klavier says to coax him up higher.
The mountains jut out of the shore, in the same direction of the sinking sun that glitters coldly across the water, in the far distance along the coast. They look small, even though Apollo knows otherwise, having stood beneath their shadows less than a week ago. “The big one right along the water is Mount Mitama,” Klavier says, pointing, though it is obvious which he refers to.
“Do you think they keep people’s souls stored there or something,” Apollo asks, “or d’you think it’s just a name?”
Klavier brings his hand to his face to block the sun, frowning into it. “I have no idea,” he admits. “I wouldn’t put it past them, but I don’t know why they would keep them here, and not with them.”
“What was it like there?” Apollo asks. “If – if you want to talk about it.”
Klavier laughs softly. “After everything else, Herr Forehead, this is easy: I don’t remember.”
“You don’t—?”
The sunlight glints off of Klavier’s jewelry and puts something of a halo around him when he turns to face Apollo again. “I remember it in broad strokes, the way I’ve told the story to you, ja? Me, the piano, my bargain – and so very little of them. What did they look like – what did they wear – how did they decorate their halls – how was their very world arranged? I don’t know. I remember mountains, mist, and snow.”
“Was it cold?”
He shrugs. “Not as I recall. I’ve heard that, of course, that they live amongst the ice, that they are the ones who change the weather—” He shrugs, again. “But whenever they bring their cold snaps, neither my brother nor I ever seemed to notice, so I would not be the person to ask.”
As Apollo wondered. “You adapted,” he says. “And he was meant to be there.”
The wind buffets against them again, straight into Apollo’s face as though straight from the mountains. “Like that,” Apollo says. He reaches up to find that his bangs are now stuck backwards at a more-or-less 45-degree angle. “It’s freezing here. Do you just not—”
“It’s quite windy, ja,” Klavier interrupts, dragging his hair away from his face, “but the cold, no, I’m not really noticing.” His mouth twists and, still holding his hair back with one hand, he sticks out his tongue, making the most undignified picture of him that Apollo has ever seen and he can’t help but laugh. “Oh, see how you like getting hairs in your mouth,” he says irritably.
“I don’t really have that problem,” Apollo says, and before his brain can unhelpfully supply anything further on any of this, he adds, “That cold thing would be useful if you lived somewhere where it snowed more than three times a year at the whim of the fae.” Hell, it would be useful to Apollo here, now, always.
“Ah, but I do like the sunshine far too much to retreat off to Michigan or what-have-you. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“With my luck, I’d just keep finding prosecutors who are worse and worse than you. Like…” What was the name of the first prosecutor he faced? He knows he’s forgotten it before. The handful of other cases he’s stumbled into, the ones that leave no real impression on him besides the paycheck, nothing else weird, he’s not surprised he forgets – but the rest of Phoenix’s trial is so burned into his memory. “The prosecutor on Mr Wright’s case. He had a really screechy voice?”
“Coming from you, that really means something.”
“I am not screechy!” Apollo winces, and Klavier raises an eyebrow, at the way his voice hits an indignant high pitch on the last word. Point not proven. “Okay, fine, maybe a little, but at least I’m realistic about how I sound and don’t get up on a stage and subject everyone to it!”
Klavier actually looks offended. Apollo never can figure out in advance what insults will land and what won’t. “But, ja, I know the prosecutor you are talking about,” he says, clearly having decided that the redirect is the least painful way of losing this round. “Quite horrid hair he has, too.”
“God, how did I forget that?” Being reminded, Apollo can summon up the memory of his reactions to that prosecutor, but none of the visuals. “What’s his name?”
“I have no idea.” Apollo snorts. “I think he’s cursed, personally,” Klavier adds, sounding somewhat defensive. “I do try to know my coworkers.”
“Mr Edgeworth said the Prosecutors Office isn’t a coven but I’m not sure I buy that anymore.”
“No,” Klavier says. “Do not believe him.”
(If Nahyuta didn’t stray from his plans, if through all these years he followed through, would he fit right in there?)
“Though don’t tell him I said that,” Klavier adds.
“Wasn’t planning on it.” He waits to hear why and doesn’t get an answer. Maybe Edgeworth really doesn’t like Klavier much. “I guess I can’t talk, what with the office I work at.”
“You have quite the ratio of magic to employees.”
“Yeah, with Trucy and Mr Wright, and then Vera has been hanging around a lot too now, and it’s everyone but me.”
Klavier is quiet for a few moments, his eyes narrowed, assessing that sentence. “How is Fraülein Changeling doing?” he asks.
Apollo wonders if he feels guilty for what happened. Or responsible. “Better. I think she’s very lonely, and very lost about what to do with herself, but as bad as Mr Wright is at being a mentor, he’s actually pretty good with her. I mean, he’s a father, so I’d hope so, but Trucy’s really different than Vera, but he’s still… seems to have it handled. He knows a lot about art, like a weird amount, and they start talking, and I get lost.”
“Huh. I wouldn’t have expected that.” With an absent gaze away from the sun and the mountains, Klavier fails to wrangle his hair up out from the wind. “I do hope you’re right, that he can help her. It would be nice to see one person somewhere in a changeling story find a happier ending.”
-
They don’t say much more after that about anything that really deeply means anything. But they don’t leave right away, either, sit instead on the hood of the car and watch the sky turn orange and the sun sink toward the shore. Klavier says that he misses the stars when he’s in LA, and Apollo agrees, mentions that he used to haunt the Space Center planetarium for that reason (doesn’t mention that while Clay loved the science-y technical parts, Apollo liked to hear of other constellations and other stories than the ones Dhurke told but know that these were the same stars that Nahyuta would still see, like he did when he was perched in a tree and calling down to Apollo to climb up to him. It comforted Apollo until it didn’t). They swap stories from high school, Apollo’s the delinquent miscellany of unfulfilled crowded public school kids, Klavier’s half the kind of pretension to be expected from a place called “Themis Legal Academy” and half surprisingly misadventures out of Germany (and surrounded countries accidentally stumbled into). It’s the strangest kind of small talk, to pick up these little inconsequential bits and pieces about Klavier after he has already shown Apollo his heart and the history locked up inside it.
And he still sings along to the radio on the way back to the city, changes the channel when Atroquinine, My Love comes on and then sings Guilty Love differently than he did that afternoon. When Apollo points it out (he thinks he can remember Dayran saying something about something like this, but fuck that guy), he says he’s never satisfied with them, but record labels and bandmates who aren’t perfectionist divas (Apollo’s words, not his) made him put them out before they truly fit what was in his head.
The lights of Los Angeles have swallowed up the rest of the horizon by the time Klavier says, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Apollo asks. For ten minutes they hadn’t spoken, and before that their conversation was about Klavier’s (not group-friendly) lyrics process, which is, if anything, a reason to apologize to his bandmates, not Apollo.
“That you ever had to be caught up in this – with Kris, with me, any of it. You shouldn’t have had to. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” Apollo says, and Klavier looks at him so sharply that Apollo thinks he should have heard his neck crack, almost yells at him to put his eyes back on the darkening road ahead of them. “Not really – I mean, I got to stop Trucy from losing her other father and being all alone. I got to help her get to the truth about her family; I got to help Vera, and Mr Wright, and… and you, too, I guess.” Apollo stares straight out the windshield as he says it; Klavier isn’t looking at him either. “No going back, so… it’s what it is.”
“I suppose we do all need you,” Klavier says softly. “And better than you resenting that you don’t need us.”
And he leaves it at that. They leave it at that, until they pull up in front of Apollo’s apartment building and Klavier turns the car off. “What are you doing?” Apollo asks. Dread is starting to settle in his stomach – not the real serious kind of dread, but the kind of dread that Clay has a talent for invoking.
“I should apologize to your roommate for making him worry about how to pay the rent, ja?” Klavier says with a wink.
Apollo slams the door. “No,” he says, as Klavier pops out the other side. “You shouldn’t. It will be embarrassing for all of us.”
“I don’t get embarrassed,” Klavier says.
“I’ve noticed,” Apollo says, directing the worst glare he can at the car and making sure that Klavier sees him doing so. “Everything about your aesthetic sense screams ‘I have never felt shame in my life’.”
“That is true.”
While unlocking the door to his apartment, Apollo considers opening it just far enough to rush inside and slamming it in Klavier’s face, but he can hear the TV on and he knows that Clay, just inside, would ask what the hell is going on, and Apollo isn’t getting through this one either way. “You are the worst,” he says to Klavier, yanking the keys out of the lock with more force than necessary and brandishing them in his face.
“What did I do?” Clay, sprawled on the couch, asks.
“Nothing yet,” Apollo asks, tossing his keys on the coffee table and considering whether he should just keep walking and take shelter in the kitchen. “You’ll see in a sec.”
“Now, Herr Forehead, you aren’t going to stick around to introduce us?”
Clay sits bolt upright, upending his laptop onto the floor.
“This is Clay; Clay, you know who this asshole is.”
“Oof.” Clay rolls up onto his feet. “That bad, huh?” His eyes are huge, but all things considered, he’s doing a good job of keeping his voice steady and not horrifically loud. “Hi, I’m, uh, Clay Terran.”
“Klavier Gavin, as you knew, I’m sure.” Klavier glances at the floor, at the well-worn salt line laid down over itself, and gives an appreciative tilt of his head as he steps over it to shake Clay’s hand. As Apollo watches, his eyes shift their hue to assess Clay. “I’m here to apologize for whatever concern you had that you were going to have to put out a missing persons report.”
Clay meets him with a very big grin and a very enthusiastic handshake. “Oh, yeah, no worries.”
“Hey!” Apollo shouts.
“I mean, like, yeah that would be pretty bad, actually, to have to pull his body up out of a ditch in the morning but I wasn’t too worried because last weekend he fell in a faery ring and he’s doing fine, so I think he’s kind of unkillable at this point.” There’s Clay’s nervous chatter, and there is information that Apollo did not want divulged, not least because he doesn’t particularly want to talk to Klavier about the Gramaryes. That’s Trucy’s story, not his.
Klavier slowly turns his eyes toward Apollo, arching an eyebrow. “Did he really,” he says, the words coming out almost like a drawl, and definitely closer to Kristoph-tone than Apollo would like.
“That’s just sort of how his life is now I think,” Clay says.
Klavier’s eyebrows raise higher. Apollo has absolutely no way to signal to Clay to shut the hell up without Klavier noticing. He could and probably should do it anyway.
“At any rate, I should be going,” Klavier says. “A pleasure to meet you.”
Clay gives a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Uh, yeah, you too!”
“See you around, Herr Forehead. I look forward to beating you in court.”
“As if.”
He leaves behind him an unimaginable silence, the kind that leaves Apollo considering the miniscule creaks in the floor from the slightest shift of his feet. “Dude,” Clay says, finally, still standing where Klavier left him, staring at closed door. “He really does have a fucking pet name for you.”
“Yeah you could call it that, but you’d be wrong.”
“So what the hell was that?” Clay asks. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, that was great, you’re turning red and I got to find out that he’s even prettier in person” – the weight of the magatama in Apollo’s pocket tells him they were looking at two different Klaviers, and Clay got the one that Apollo used to know – “but you, like, ditching out of work in the middle of the day to go hang with him, that’s totally not like you even if I’d encourage it.”
“Mr Wright was talking about magic,” Apollo says, “and we had a… revelation. About what’s up with…” He gestures at the door. “Him. So I went to ask him about it.” It seems stupid now that he says it, none of the urgency now that made him commit magatama-theft and abandon his day job. “And he hadn’t answered any of my texts, anyway,” he adds, which sounds even stupider.
“Kicking down his door wasn’t going to be my next recommendation, but I like the way you think,” Clay says. He finally manages to tear his eyes from the door and look to Apollo. “So he’s not a witch?”
“No.”
“Alright.” Clay retrieves his laptop, turning it over to make sure nothing is broken. “We still need to go grocery shopping, so you’ve got about fuck-all for dinner now that you’re late, by the way.”
“Great.” Apollo is in the kitchen before he fully comprehends the turn of the conversation. He sticks his head back out into the living room. “You aren’t asking what he is?”
Clay’s hand reaches up over the back of the couch and waves dismissively; otherwise, he has disappeared entirely from view. “It’s one thing to speculate when he’s like, some celebrity guy who you had a court run-in with, like, twice, but after you dropped everything and had this look on your face when I asked just now, like you thought you were gonna have to explain what he’s if not a witch and were horrified by the prospect. So, nah, as long as he’s not gonna kill you and/or steal your soul, you keep his secret. I’m not gonna pry.”
“Oh.”
Clay’s arm hooks over the back of the couch again and he raises himself up to glare down Apollo. “Dude, honestly, what do you think, I’m a douchebag or some like sleazy tabloid writer?”
“No,” Apollo says. “I’m just – I don’t know.”
“Yeah, you look pretty dazed,” Clay says. “Which, like, fair, you spent a bunch of hours alone with the guy, I would be too.” He folds his arms under his chin. “I’m surprised at you, though, that you would go off to god-knows-where with Herr Not-Really-That-Human. Long way from where you started.”
“I’m already in over my head,” Apollo says. “So what’s more, really?”
“I think you’re head-over-heels.”
“No.”
“It’s a good joke, admit it.”
“Nice turnabout, but no.”
While he’s in the kitchen, digging through the pantry – they really are down to crumbs and scraps, aren’t they? – his phone chimes.
-Vongole made it home before me -ate everything I had in the fridge for tonight - >:(
Apollo snorts.
you should probably stick some iron to it
He returns to the living room with a bowl of cereal, checking his phone for the response. Clay smirks, like he knows, except he can’t know, because Apollo does have other people he texts. Or, well, maybe just Trucy. Maybe that’s kind of sad.
-do you suppose they can make fridges entirely out of iron
or go the high budget rock star solution I guess
-
In the morning, Apollo finds a text received at 3:27 am.
-thank you
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rosewilliams1736 · 6 years
Text
Does it Get Better?
T/W brief homophobic language 
Waverly was just sliding out of the driver’s side of her jeep when she heard shouting coming from a nearby alley.
“Stop… Please!”
“Shut up dyke.”
Waverly clenched her jaw and slammed her door shut before running in the direction of the voices. She was met with the sight of a girl, no older than sixteen, trying to pick herself up off of her knees and two teenage boys standing over her, both had their hands clenched at their sides and looked ready to knock her back down. Before Waverly had the chance to intervene, the girl shot her leg out and slammed a kick into the kneecap of the boy closest to her, sending him to the ground howling in pain. The other boy scowled at her before running up and attempting to punt her in the stomach, but the girl was quicker. She got to her feet with just enough time to send a strong uppercut into his jaw.
The boy’s eyes burned with anger, but his attempt at retaliation was cut off by Waverly stepping up and making her presence known. “Woah there, what’s going on here?”
The three teenagers turned and froze at the site of the approaching brunette. “Shit, that’s Officer Haught’s girlfriend. Let’s get out of here.” The boy that was still standing helped the other one to his feet and they took off running, or rather, limping, in the opposite direction.
Waverly shook her head and sighed as she moved toward the girl who was now standing with her side leaned up against the the wall and breathing heavily. There was a thin stream of blood running from her nose, one of her eyes was nearly swollen shut, and she had few scrapes on her hands an knees. As Waverly got closer, she pulled away defensively.
Waverly held up her hands and slowed her movement. “Hi,” She said softly, “I’m Waverly. Waverly Earp.”
The girl straightened her posture slightly but seemed unphased by Waverly’s last name. “Morgan.” The girl said briskly as she looked around, doing her best to avoid Waverly’s eyes.
As Waverly watched the girl, she couldn’t help but notice how much she reminded her of Wynonna when she was that age.
“It’s nice to meet you Morgan. You must be new to Purgatory, I haven’t seen you around here before.”
Morgan brought one of her hands up and started looking at the scrapes that covered the palm. “My family just moved here from Vancouver.” She said, her words once again dismissive.
“Ah, well that explains it then.”
“Mmhm.” Morgan mumbled, taking the same hand she had just been observing up to assess her swollen eye, sucking in a sharp breath when she made contact.
“We should probably get some ice on that,” Waverly said, moving forward cautiously. “How do you feel about donuts?”
Morgan raised an eyebrow and gave Waverly a once over. “We don’t have to do anything, I can take care of myself. And what do donuts have to do with anything?”
Waverly sighed, all too familiar the clipped responses of someone who was hurting; who felt like they had no one in their corner. “Honestly? In my whole life, I’ve never come across something that a donut can’t fix. If it makes you feel any better, the owner of the local shop is used to my sister and I coming in looking for ice and a treat.”
Morgan’s eyebrows crinkled slightly, her curiosity piqued, before her face softened ever so slightly. “Okay, I guess it couldn’t hurt.”
Waverly grinned. “Alrighty then, donuts and ice coming right up!” She said, gesturing for Morgan to start walking out of the alley.
Several minutes later, the girls found themselves sitting across from each other in Purgatory’s most popular donut shop. Morgan was holding a bag of ice up against her eye and had an untouched jelly-filled donut sitting in front of her. Her attention was focused out the window next to her. Waverly watched her while slowly mixing her iced coffee with a straw. She took a second to shoot off a quick text and after a moment, cleared her throat. Morgan jumped, seemingly having forgotten that she wasn’t alone, and looked up with her good eye.
“You kicked some serious ass back there. What kind of self-defence training have you had?”
Morgan bit the side of her cheek and looked down at her donut. “I just kind of picked it up on my own.” She said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.
Waverly nodded in understanding. “This isn’t the first time then.”
Morgan shook her head. “Not even close. It just comes with the territory I guess, and moving to this small hick town didn’t help.”
Waverly noted the rainbow flag patch on the girl’s jean jacket and thought back to the slur that she’d heard one of the boys shout when she was getting out of her car.
“How long ago did you come out?” She asked, causing Morgan’s eye to widen in alarm.
“I...uh…”
Waverly gave her a warm smile. “It’s okay, I’m not here to judge you. It might help to know that I came out about two years ago.”
Morgan looked up at Waverly with her mouth held upon slightly in shock. “You’re…?”
“Bi, yep. And this,” She said, turning to look over her shoulder at the sound of the little bell that indicated that someone had opened the front door, and smiling at the woman who had just walked into the shop, “Is my girlfriend.”
Nicole walked over to the table and bent over to give Waverly a quick peck on the lips before turning to face Morgan. “I’m Nicole.” She said, offering the other girl her hand.
Morgan watched her for a second, taking in the redhead's uniform and badge before reaching her hand out hesitantly to shake Nicole’s.
Nicole sat down next to Waverly and the table fell silent for a moment. Morgan was the first to break the silence. “That must mean that you are the Officer Haught those boys were talking about.”
Nicole smiled. “That’s me. Waverly told me that you had a run in with the local homophobes, are you feeling like you want to report them?”
Morgan shook her head. “No, then I’d have to explain to my parent’s why they were after me and they aren’t big fans of the whole ‘gay’ thing.”
Nicole’s face darkened and Waverly’s hand slid over to give hers a gentle squeeze. Nicole glanced beside her and gave Waverly a small smile before looking back at Morgan. “I’ve been there, spent most of the last five years there actually.”
Morgen set down her bag of ice and watched Nicole intently. “Did it… get better?” She asked, her voice starting strong, but shrinking down into a whisper.
Nicole nodded. “How long ago did you come out?” She asked, echoing Waverly’s earlier question.
“About a month ago.” Morgan replied, voice still low. “It wasn’t exactly my idea though, I ran into them when I was out on a date with a girl and well…” Morgan’s eyes filled with tears.
Waverly’s stomach clenched, it was the first real emotion that she had seen from the girl and it hurt to watch.
“That’s the main reason we moved here. My dad had gotten a job offer, but he was going to turn it down. I guess he thought that moving to a small country town would change me.”
Nicole’s fist clenched and Waverly reached for it before gently pulling it under the table and rubbing her thumb over it soothingly.
“Okay, your turn.” Morgan said, after clearing her throat and attempting to regain her composure.
Nicole took in a long, calming breath before letting it out slowly. “I came out to my parents right before I left for the Police Academy.” She began. “I knew how they felt about gay people, but I hoped that by giving them some time and distance to process everything would help change their minds.”
Morgan had shifted forward in her seat so that her stomach was flush up against the edge of the table, in an effort to hear everything that Nicole had to say.
“It turns out that I accidently gave them an out. I didn’t hear from them the whole time that I was away, but it didn’t worry me because I had already warned them that I would be busy and wouldn’t have much time to talk. When I got back from the academy, they had sold the house and moved away, without a word.”
Morgan’s mouth had fallen open over the course of the last few minutes and when Nicole stopped talking, she snapped it shut.
“I don’t understand, how could that possibly get better?” Morgan’s hand came up and slammed over her own mouth. She flinched as the hit aggravated her eye injury. “Sorry, I just mean that’s the worst story I’ve ever heard.”
Nicole laughed and the girl watched her carefully. “Don’t be sorry. I thought that too, for a really long time. It hurt then and it still hurts now, even though things are different. I learned to live with it though. I moved away from the big city and moved here to Purgatory. I met Waverly and got used to my new life.”
Waverly smiled up at her Nicole bumped her shoulder into her playfully.
“Have you heard anything from them since?”
Nicole’s attention returned to Morgan. “My mom reached out to me about six months ago.”
“What happened?”
“I ignored the call, and the next ten that came after it.” Nicole replied sheepishly. “She caught me at a bad time and I wasn’t prepared to face all of that again. I ended up calling her back a week later and it was one of the better decisions that I’ve made. It took awhile, but eventually, time and distance ended up being what she and my dad needed to start to understand where I was coming from.”
Morgan looked down at her donut and bit the inside of her cheek. “I get that it can take time to adjust to this, it took a long time for me to be fully okay with it, but I just can’t see my parents ever getting there. I’ve heard the things that they say when they think I can’t hear them.”
“I wish I could promise you that they will accept it one day, but I can’t. People are unpredictable and you can’t do anything to change a person’s mind when it’s made up. What I can tell you though, is that no matter what happens, you’re not alone. You have us now, and there are so many other people out there who will love and accept you for who you are. Family doesn’t always have to mean blood related.”
Morgan nodded and a small smile pulled at the edge of her lips. “Has anyone ever told you that you’d make a great motivational speaker?”
Nicole laughed. “Yes actually, Waverly’s sister called me a walking bumper sticker once.”
Morgan reached for her donut and took a small bite, and Waverly grinned. It had taken a while, but they’d managed to make some progress with her.
“Is there anything else we can do for you right now?” Waverly asked.
Morgan shook her head. “You guys have already done way more than I expected from anyone in this town.”
Nicole pulled out one of her business cards and slid it across the table to the girl before sliding out of her seat and standing up. “I’ve got to get back to the station, but if something changes or those boys come back and give you more trouble, just give me a call.” Nicole placed a quick kiss on the top of Waverly’s head before waving at the two girls and exiting the building.  
Morgan cleared her throat and Waverly turned so that she was looking at her. “I’m sorry for acting like such an ass earlier, I’m not great at accepting help.”
“Don’t worry about it, it’s hard to let people in when if feels like the whole world is against you.”
“Damn girl, what happened to you?” Morgan’s good eye was shining with mischief and her mouth was pulled into smirk.
Waverly shook her head with a laugh. “That, my friend, is a story for another time.”
“Fair enough, I’ll hold you to that though.” Morgan finished her donut and stood up. “I better get home and tell my parents what happened before they hear it from someone else.” Morgan took a few steps toward the door before turning around and giving Waverly a quick, and probably painful side hug. “Thank you for everything.”
Waverly brought her arm up so that she could return the hug. “You’re more than welcome.”
Morgan pulled away and took off without another word and Waverly hoped that if nothing else, she and Nicole had managed to help ease some of the heavy burden the girl was shouldering.
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locitarose · 6 years
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One last one! Earth-12, which is another Criminal Minds inspired one and so shhh if you figure out what episode this is based on the little bit that I’ve started to mention here:
           Earth-12, Leonard decided, looked more than a bit strange. His eyes moved over the city skyline through the window on the bridge of the Waverider.
            The skyscrapers were twisted, not like a screw but like someone had made the buildings out of clay, put their hand on top of them then twisted them until the buildings looked like a swirl of soft serve ice cream.
            He glanced at Sara and raised an eyebrow in silent question. She glanced out the window of the bridge before looking at him and nodding in response. They didn’t say anything else as they left the bridge and headed towards Sara’s room. The moment the door closed behind them, they moved to the bed and sat next to each other, scooting back until they were leaning against the wall. Leonard’s lips twitched a bit when he saw that Sara’s feet were just barely at the edge of the bed while his dangled off. Rather than point it out, he slid his hand in to hers, tangling their fingers together the way they had back on Earth-11.
            “Do we stay here or do the usual?” she asked, shifting closer.
            Before he could answer, Gideon spoke up. “Excuse me, Miss Lance, Mr. Snart, but Mr. Rory and Dr. Palmer are requesting entrance. Shall I let them in or ask them to move along?”
            As if that would work. Leonard knew that if Mick wanted to talk to them, he’d just drop to the floor and sit out there until they came out. He was stubborn like that. And there was no doubt that Ray would just stay to keep him company. So there was no point in telling them to leave and he knew Sara realized that as easily as he had. He glanced at her and paused when he saw that she’d been watching him, head tilted. His eyebrows lifted slightly in question and she glanced down at their hands then back up at him and he understood.
            They’d been a bit more hands on (so to speak) with each other after they’d seen their Earth-11 counterparts but they hadn’t done anything as blatant as hold hands in front of the others and Sara was leaving it up to him on whether they’d let Mick and Ray in on that little fact. He couldn’t stop the rush of gratitude at being given the option and his lips twitched up in to a small smile before he leaned forward, kissing her on the forehead, something that was rapidly becoming a habit whenever they were alone.
            Rubbing his thumb over hers for a few moments, he took a deep breath and nodded. “Let them in, Gideon,” he said. Sara smiled and squeezed his hand lightly as the door opened.
            Mick noticed almost right away. He’d only taken a few steps in to the room before his eyes landed on their hands and his eyes lit up as he grinned, nodding at Leonard as if to say, about damn time. Rather than say anything to draw attention to them, he just pulled out Sara’s desk chair and spun it so that it was backwards before straddling it, facing them. Sara looked like she wanted to laugh as Ray checked to be sure there were no knives on the desk before he sat on it.
            “So,” he said, “Mick kept bugging me about what happened on Earth-6 and—“
            “You finally caved?” Leonard interrupted with a smirk.
            “He’s really persistent!”
            Sara laughed. “Relax, Ray. We’re not going to kill you for telling Mick.” She glanced at Mick and he shrugged.
            “I was curious,” he admitted. “Haircut said you guys were looking yourselves up on each Earth to keep from meeting your other selves and I was wondering if you’d seen any other versions of me or heard about them.”
            “Earth-3,” Sara said immediately. She glanced at Leonard and he nodded. “We were in high school—“
            “Whoa, at the same time?” Ray asked.
            Sara nodded. “We’ve noticed that ages can vary on the different Earths. And on that one, we were in high school while Leonard’s sister was younger. She mentioned Mick so we definitely knew you on that Earth.”
            “Earth-4.” Leonard didn’t elaborate because there was no way he was getting in to the fact he was the Flash on that Earth with Mick. His partner would die of laughter. “And Earth-5. We worked together on those Earths.” He smirked as he thought of Earth-5. “Sara here was a fellow Rogue on Earth-5.”
            Mick grinned. “Knew you had it in you, Blondie.”
            Sara laughed. “Damn right I do.” She paused. “Ray told you about Earth-6 so you know about that one.”
            “Nothing on Earth-7,” Leonard said. “And Earth-8...” He paused, letting the sentence trail off as he clenched his jaw and remembered hearing that Mick had shot Sara on that Earth.
            “You were dead,” Sara told him. Leonard squeezed her hand in thanks. It wasn’t technically a lie, he figured. The Leonard Snart of Earth-8 had looked like he was going to take down that version of Mick, no matter what he had to do.
            “Nothing on Earth-9. But we worked together again on Earth-10,” Leonard told him. As heroes, not that Leonard was going to tell Mick that. “And nothing on Earth-11 either.”
            “We hadn’t gotten around to asking Gideon about ourselves on this Earth yet,” Sara added.
            “Hey, other than Earth-6,” Ray grimaced at the thought of that Earth, “did you see me on any others?”
            “We worked together on Earth-8,” Sara told him. “And you were a metahuman on Earth-10. That’s been all so far.”
            Ray brightened. “Neat!”
            He probably wouldn’t think it was neat if they told him about the whole being sold thing, Leonard thought, considering it. Not to mention that with a name like Killer Frost, the guy was probably considered a villain or else seriously misunderstood. Leonard discarded the idea. It’d probably be like kicking a puppy and that was a line he wasn’t crossing.
            Mick studied the two of them. “I get bored exploring on my own every time. Thought you wouldn’t mind if I tagged along with you guys. At least, if my other self is there.” While Ray frowned at the words, Sara and Leonard grinned.
            “Figured it out, huh?” Sara asked.
            Mick grinned. “You’re not just avoiding yourselves, you’re spying on yourselves to see what you’re up to on each Earth.” His eyes ticked to their hands and they understood that he’d figured out exactly why they were doing that on each Earth.
            “Yeah,” Leonard agreed. “Every single time. Except Earth-6 for obvious reasons.” He looked over at Sara in silent question. They’d kept everything they’d seen a secret though he supposed they had already started breaking that rule when they’d brought in Raymond on Earth-6. Sara had clearly come to the same conclusion since she nodded. They could shake up their routine every now and then for Mick and Ray. So Leonard nodded at Mick. “Sure,” he said. Ray punched a fist in the air in victory. “Don’t do that.”
            Sara laughed when Ray shot Leonard an offended look. “Gideon,” she said. “Can you find Earth-12 Leonard Snart and see if any of us are connected to him in some way?”
            “Certainly, Ms. Lance,” Gideon agreed. The silence lasted for a few minutes as Gideon gathered information, something that Leonard and Sara had gotten used to with each Earth, until Gideon spoke again, relaying what she had found out. “Earth-12 Leonard Snart is a special agent with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Earth-12’s Mick Rory and Dr. Raymond Palmer are both a part of the same team of agents as he is.”
            “Ah hell,” Leonard and Mick groaned at the same time. Leonard looked pointedly at Sara as she pressed her lips together in an effort not to laugh while Ray beamed.
            “What about Sara, Gideon?” Ray asked. “She’s not on the team?”
            “No, Dr. Palmer. However, Earth-12’s Sara Lance and Leonard Snart have been married for nine years. They have a four year old daughter named Lisa.”
            Leonard sucked in a breath, his hand instinctively tightening around Sara’s. The only time they’d seen their other selves married had been on Earth-11 and now here they were. Married again but this time with a child. A daughter.
            Lisa.
            Lisa was his daughter on this Earth. Hell, she was his and Sara’s and that... He closed his eyes briefly as he remembered what Earth-11’s Sara had said.
            “And, someday, Leonard Snart, I want to have kids with you. Because you’re going to be such an amazing dad and I can’t wait to see it.”
            Sara squeezed his hand again and he opened his eyes and remembered what she had said to him when they were on their way back to the Waverider after getting out of their Earth-11 selves’ house.
            “If I were in that exact situation? I’d say all the same things.”
            As if she knew what he was thinking, Sara’s lips tilted up in to a small smile. He frowned when Gideon’s next words caused it to disappear.
            “Recently, Agent Snart was admitted to the hospital. According to the report he was taken there after Lewis Snart had dropped him off in the morgue using Agent Rory’s badge. Agent Snart had multiple stab wounds and almost didn’t make it. Not long after he pulled through, Sara and Lisa Snart disappeared.”
            “Oh,” Sara breathed, a look of understanding on her face. She glanced up at Leonard. “You put us in hiding.”
            “That’d be my guess,” Leonard agreed, thinking of what he’d do in that situation. “He managed to get the drop on me and put me in the hospital. He used Mick’s badge and that had to be deliberate. I don’t doubt that he’d have no problem threatening my wife and daughter. And since Gideon can’t find anything other than the fact that you guys have disappeared, that means there’s nothing in any of the computers and that means I kept it incredibly secret.”
            “Not even the team, you think?” Ray asked. It was Mick that shook his head.
            “If the team knows anything, it’ll be who his contact is. But they won’t know the exact location. Maybe one other person will know and that’s just as a backup,” he said. “Boss wouldn’t take a chance with their lives.”
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Brexit and why Britain left The EU Podcast Back Story with Dana Lewis - link: https://www.buzzsprout.com/1016881/6896642
Anna Soubry: (00:00) We can do it. It'll be worth all the pain and you're say worthwhile, what are you going to get out of it? And the only thing that you can take away is a warm feeling of sovereignty. It's a shameful moment in our country's history. Dana Lewis - Host : (00:20) Hi everyone. And welcome to this edition of backstory on Brexit. I'm Dana Lewis. Wait, Brexit is actually more interesting than you think. I mean, it has to be, Brexit is much more than Britain leaving the European trading block, and it even has some parallels with Trump populism in America. Trump has taught people. If you repeat lies long enough, people will believe you at least some way to win their referendum, to leave the EU. In 2016, the British conservative Brexit movement lied a lot to Boris Johnson came to power by largely misleading. Everyone that Brexit was good. A trade deal was oven ready. He said, it's not it. Wasn't. He lied about European laws, overriding British law about a loss of sovereignty, about threats from immigration and terrorism. In fact, now the UK could be shut out of the European intelligence network and that will be damaging and they dangled promises. Dana Lewis - Host : (01:22) There would be more jobs and even more money for healthcare. If Britain just left the European union and people bought it 52% versus 48% in the referendum boat bought it like Americans swallowed Trump's lies about America first and how by pulling back from the international stage, that would benefit us interests. It was populist politics based on fear and still is so Britain voted to leave, but couldn't figure out how to do it. How do you disconnect from Europe, but continue your trade relations. How do you lower labor standards and workers' rights and lower environmental standards and still meet EU trading regulations? Oh, in Northern Ireland, they couldn't draw a border between Northern Ireland and Ireland. So the talks have gone on for years. The referendum was in 2016 and now we're at the end of 2020. The talks are drawing to a close because the deadline is now, Britain is out. The question is on trade with the EU. Are they still happy? And they'll certainly have more fish to sell to the EU, which is where most of the fish caught by British fishermen are sold right now, Britain and Brexit on this backstory. Dana Lewis - Host : (02:47) All right. I want to introduce you first to Anna Soubry, who is an ex conservative MP. She's a barrister. She was a journalist. And I think everything I've read about her and seen about a year, a bit of a rebel, Anna. Yeah, Anna Soubry: (03:00) That's probably true. And I used to have a very good cause, but I think the cause is somewhat waned. Now that we've left the EU. Anyway, Dana Lewis - Host : (03:07) I want to talk about that. And also joining us Irina Von Weise who  I've known arena for a long time. She's a member. She was a member of European parliament, uh, for the United Kingdom. Uh, and, and right now she is a, well, no longer a member of European parliament because the UK left the European parliament Irina Von Weise: (03:25) Indeed. And one of those extinct species that is time sensitive research and some Jurassic park form and events, Dana Lewis - Host : (03:34) You should wear that as a badge of honor, probably. And, uh, first of all, can I, can I talk to you about where we are right now? I mean, it looks like they, they don't have a deal, but then they might have a deal, but they didn't have a deal, but they could have a deal. Anna Soubry: (03:52) I let I let Anna go first and then I would try as well. But I think speculation is difficult. No, I absolutely agree. Uh, and if, if you ask, well, what's going to happen. I honestly don't know. I wouldn't be surprised if we left without a deal on the basis that the talks will continue, which of course they're going to have to continue it in that event because it's going to be devastating for the UK economy economy in particular. Um, but equally, if he got a bet, if he gets the deal, that wouldn't surprise me either, but it will be a bare bones deal and it will not deliver the sort of economic benefit. Not that there is any benefit, but it won't be, it will just, it it'll be a bear mitigation of the undoubted economic hit. Our country will suffer when we leave the single market and the customs union. Now we've left the European union. Dana Lewis - Host : (04:47) You were a member of David Cameron's government. You supported a referendum, you campaigned against a positive response for the referendum. Um, and for you, you, well, you campaign against the referendum, did you not? Anna Soubry: (05:05) No, no, not at all. I can't paint against us leaving the European union, but I, you know, I am one of those who thought we should have a referendum to settle the matter for decades. Right? Dana Lewis - Host : (05:18) You held the reference, you held the referendum to settle the matter because we have a lot of American viewers. What were you going to settle? What was going on behind the scenes, within the conservative party that you said, finally, let's put this talk of leaving the EU to rest once and for all. Anna Soubry: (05:35) Absolutely. So what was happening was that for decades ever since we joined the old common market that had been this small group of people within the conservative party, who believed with a fervent passion, that we should leave the European union as it then became over time and we should not be in it. And they would bang all this David and others, people, David Cameron, and many others called it banging on always about Europe. For many of us, we believed that it did it distracted us from all the other things that we should be talking about. Um, and out on the doorstep, which I used to do a lot of when I stood for parliament, uh, in a very marginal seat, as you can imagine, very few people on the doorstep actually said to you, do you know what my real concern is? Where a member of the European union, they would talk about all of the sorts of things. It was very low down the list of priorities for real people, but for the conservative party, it was almost an often the number one talking point, and it was like a running sore. It needed sorting out and settling in my opinion. Uh, and that was a terrible mistake because obviously I thought we'd win. Want to have a referendum. If you thought you were going to lose it, thought we would win. And we respect for a number of reasons, Dana Lewis - Host : (06:57) Bring Irina in here on, on that note of a number of reasons. What do you think that the, the pro Brexit, um, campaign tapped into, we understand what their slogans were. You know, you're going to get more money for healthcare and, and, uh, you're going to have your rights back and you're going to have sovereignty, but what do you think really they tapped into? Anna Soubry: (07:18) Well, I think what that tapped into is years and years and years of a very anti EU media in Britain, but also the general mode, which is one of this French has meant of, of general, um, happiness of economic breakdown for India, a stereotype or the visa, for course, things that have been planted, deliberately supported by the conservative party. I mean, my party, the liberal Democrats, we, we fought tooth and nail against the referendum. And then later to somehow stop Brexit. We failed, I think there's years and years and years of deliberate disinformation and lies come to him now, because now we've, what's he going to say? Of course we have going to see is that all of the things that we said four years ago, three years ago, two years ago, all along, we're going to happen. The catastrophic, no deal Brexit, um, is going to happen. I'm not saying this with Diana. I do not want my adoptive homelands to suffer. I do not want my British friends, um, to suffer. And, um, you know, I'm, I'm saying this with one crying eyes, but we will come back and say, we told you so, and maybe this is the bitter pill that we all need to swallow because I think, Dana Lewis - Host : (08:33) Anna  then is nodding is nodding in agreement. Anna Soubry: (08:37) Yeah, absolutely. And I think there's these points about the misinformation. I mean, it was a, it was almost like a bit of a British sport to blame anything that went wrong in the European union. And it was part of the sport was too. Yeah. Frankly stories were up including by Boris Johnson when he worked in, uh, as the Europe, uh, correspondence of the daily Telegraph stories were made up. And it fed that little Englander that, and habits much of this, this country. And so it was things like the EU want a ban Benji bananas when this was all a load of rubbish, uh, and governments of all colors, labor and conservative. There's probably something difficult that could be, couldn't be done or something difficult that had to be done. They would go, Oh, it's not our fault. It's the EU they're telling us to do this, or they're not allowing us to do that. So it became a whipping point and here's a surprise. We lost. We lost for other reasons though. Sorry, Dana Lewis - Host : (09:44) Does it become now because you're talking about not you, but the pro Brexiters talk about independence and then they are trying to negotiate a dependent trade deal. I mean, there's a little bit. Anna Soubry: (09:58) Yeah. But you, you know, you, and, and I'm sure your listeners, your viewers will know and understand these things, but this is the absolute dishonesty of the whole of that Brexit campaign was that you could somehow be this, that we'd lost our sovereignty, which in itself is a load of nonsense. I used to people used to say to me, we don't make any laws in this country because they would go out in the streets, Reno places like this here in Leeds. Um, and talk to people as they're going about their business. And the days when they did that before COVID, but, you know, and, and people would say, yeah, but we don't make our own laws. And I say, excuse me, I am a member of parliament. I make lots of laws. I made lots of laws. You don't probably agreement, but please don't tell me we don't make laws because we do. Anna Soubry: (10:41) So this idea that we've lost sovereignty as a member of the United nations, which they facto means you're going to give up a bit of yourself. Um, as, as a, as a member of all sorts of other organizations, where of course, by being a member or having any relationship with any other country like us as human beings, mean if you're in a relationship, if you have children, if you have neighbors, if you have friends, then you give up a bit of your sovereignty. You know, you, you say, where should we go? This evening, one wants to go to the cinema. One wants to go to a restaurant, But you do then you, it it's the same friendship and neighbors is on and so forth. And about 16% of British laws were subject to EU laws, which often with Trump pencils 16%. And it was usually about widgets, you know, the size of the screw head. Irina Von Weise: (11:34) You know, those were also made by people like me, who I was directly elected, right. I don't think in the European pattern making the 16% of liberals and apply in Britain, but I was elected by a person in this case, by my constituency. You know? So it's not like there is no democratic system. We may not be scrutinized these laws in European parliament. But the difference is we then had a seat at the table. We were actually influencing those laws and those regulations that will still be applicable directly indirectly. Now what we have is this is a situation where we don't have a seat at the table. We don't, we have not influencing these laws and these regulations and standards, we'll still have to follow them. I mean, it's completely deluded to think exactly. We can simply do our own regulations and standards and whatever, if we ever want to have any trading relationship with our biggest neighbors. So we're going to have to follow them, but we don't have a chance to make the, to, to influence them, to influence any kind of policy. Um, including for example, a lot of transporter policies like crime fighting like the environment, but we can't influence it. So in many ways we have lost sovereignty or whatever it may be. We certainly have lost standing in the world. Um, you know, as, as a nation that has any say and the recent breach, a complete breach of trust, Dana Lewis - Host : (13:04) Come back to Anna for a moment. Let me come back to Anna for a moment and pick up on what you've just said, arena. And that is that a lot of people say that this will be a race to the bottom because now for the UK to remain competitive after Brexit, they are going to have to deregulate a lot of things that they produce environmental standards, labor practice. Um, but then that puts them into another problem with the EU, because they're going to say that's unfair. That's not a level playing field in the end. It's going to wind up. Even if there is a trade deal, which they may or not be there, there may not be going to end up in a, in a real conflict with the EU and sanctions potentially at the end of it. Irina Von Weise: (13:45) Yeah, absolutely. I mean, as a competition, or I completely understand that argument, sorry. It just, just very quickly, you do need to have this level playing field, um, for the simple reason that if you, you know, if you want to check you, can't simply undercut, um, eh, the others, because you subsidize your own, your own industries and this whole picture of the sort of Singapore on the 10th. I'm not sure whether that was a good or a bad image of Britain. Of course, the truth is that we were, uh, we would not be able to compete, um, on our own with a block of where the biggest trading block in the world. And the only way that we think we can do that is by dumping down our own standards. I personally don't want to have my children play with unsafe toys or eat some chlorinated chicken, but, you know, we won't even have the choice because we don't want to be able to import the higher sentence. The thing is, as we are having this conversation between the three of us, it is quite complicated stuff to talk about. Normal people Anna Soubry: (14:52) In their homes today are not going to be sitting there saying, you know, this level of playing field, you, you knew this deregulation, the race or the building. This is not the conversations of ordinary decent people. These are often complex difficult things. And it's the absolute duty of politicians to explain things to people, firms being one of our big failings. And it's also a failing if I may say of our media. Uh, and I suspect, you know, obviously across the Atlantic, in your own country as well, where we've had this problem where we've we've we've, and I'm an old journalist remember. So I put my hands up to this, where in order to sell a paper or to sell a TV program, you dealt in the simplest of terms. And I once worked for a great news editor who said to me, and he said to us, he said to all of us, he said, never, ever patronize people by saying, Oh, it's too complicated. Or that's a long word. He said, don't patronize people like that and speak good plain English to people and explain it. And don't just go for that cheap headline. And it's, what's happened to our country of that Dana Lewis - Host : (16:03) Is the cheap headline, by the way, the fishery discuss, because that accounts for, you know, zero whatever of the British economy, but that's something always rules out and we're going to protect our fish and we're going to send our war ships out to protect fishing. And at least they feel that that resonates with the public. Anna Soubry: (16:23) And he's even more mad because we don't even eat most of the fish that we get out of. What is apparently our seas it's even more bonkers than that. So yes, you're absolutely right. It's 0.02% of GDP. So it's a tiny piece of our economy. And the irony is I say is, is that even if we gain control of our seas, and we only are the only people who fish the stock from RCS, we're flogging into the European union, and nobody is saying to the, to the British people, okay, we can catch all these fish, but we won't be able to sell it. So what's the point of this nonsense. And, you know, again, it's this huge failing of all of us involved in politics. Not all of us, perhaps not the lib Dems are to their credit. I've always sold the positive benefits of membership of the European union, but not to explain these things and not to do this awful simplistic jingoistic nonsense that we are, you know, we just we've just come out of the second world war, which by the way, you didn't know this, but we won by ourselves. But I mean, these, these sorts of nonsenses, there are still millions of people in this great country who think that we won the second world war all by ourselves. And you know, this shooting in the foot is actually, we can do it. It'll be worth all the pain. And you're saying worthwhile, what are you going to get out of it? And the only thing that you can take away is warm feeling of sovereignty. It's a shameful moment in our country's history. Dana Lewis - Host : (17:55) And it's so brief. Thank you so much. I know you have to go Anna Anna Soubry: (17:59) I'm so sorry, but thank you. Irina Von Weise: (18:01) Thank you. And, uh, and I couldn't agree more with Anna. I mean, I think we really are in the same boat here. How does this end? Well, you know, I would so much love to end this interview on a positive note and say this way. And with people seeing the light with suddenly realizing what a huge historic mistake this was, and we're all going to happy to rejoin. Um, this is not going to happen in the short or medium term. I, and I'm not, you know, I'm not doing it like our governments to think that, um, this is going to happen overnight, but I think what we need to do now, which is really important is to pave the path towards a more pro European attitude. And we can do that despite our government's lies, despite the failure of trade, Dana Lewis - Host : (18:48) Is there going to be a deal? If he, if he gets a deal, is it going to be a real good? Irina Von Weise: (18:53) I, we got the deal. I mean, I'm very happy to bet on this. Dana Lewis - Host : (18:57) You're going to be easy if it's not a deal. If it's not a big storm, people are predicting this as the perfect storm. Irina Von Weise: (19:06) Absolutely. And if this doesn't bring this government down, I don't know what will, because the combination of a catastrophic, no deal or some skeleton deal Brexit, the pandemic flaring back up, um, in the next year, I think is going to be at really think it's going to be the destiny for this government. It can't be otherwise. And what we need to do is point out what is due to Brexit and what isn't because the government were trying to blame everything on the pandemic. Now, whatever happens, the accusing can to the food prices. The fact that we probably will not have any further vaccines because they gonna get stuck on the border and melt. And we have to fly them in by helicopter, oldest, where nothing will have nothing to do with Brexit, right? It's all dependent. We mustn't let the government get away with these kinds of excuses and lies. That is our, our task as an opposition going forward. And I think if we manage that, if we really relentlessly hold the government to account, we can eventually bring it down. And then we need to start very slowly to rebuild trust with our European partners and indeed our partners around the globe Dana Lewis - Host : (20:16) And rejoin the EU. Yes, Irina Von Weise: (20:18) We were, but not within the next 10 or so years. I mean, let's not be naive about this. It takes two to tango. We need to rebuild that relationship of trust. And there are others who are waiting at the doors desperate to get in. We need to show that we are going to be a trustworthy partner that will take time, but I am confident we'll get there. I want to get my seat back in the European parliament. I left a pair of shoes in a, in a cupboard there. So you've lived that to wheel me in, in Dana Lewis - Host : (20:45) Thanks Irina Von Weiss Dana Lewis - Host : (20:48) Irina, former member of European parliament for the UK, and always a great commentator on political issues with great insight and somebody very pro European. Great to talk to you again. Thank you, Dana. What does Europe think about Britain leaving its trading block? Well, most of the EU nations have gotten so tired of the debate. It barely makes the newspapers, but there have been some very provocative blunt assessments. The consensus seems to be British prime minister, Boris Johnson misled his voters listen to one of Germany's European parliamentary representatives, Terry Rankin. Terry Reintke - German MEP: (21:28) I might not like to say it, but I think it has to be said also here in this house, Boris Johnson has been lying to the people in the UK, the 350 million pounds for the NHS after Brexit, no customs checks between Northern Ireland and the rest of the UK. And then this open ready deal that basically just needed signing on the future relations between the EU and the UK. Come on. These lies have to stop. If we want to turn this around, truth has to be spoken. First Brexit is a mess. Second, finding a solution to this mess is not going to be easy for either side, but thirdly, and I think that this is important. That might not be a good outcome to this, but there are many different levels of how difficult this can become. So prime minister stop blaming others for your own actions, take responsibility and come back to the negotiation table and avoid the worst outcome for the people in the UK. You owe it to them. Thank you. Dana Lewis - Host : (22:28) All right. I take you out of Brussels and you get a chance to hear Terry Reintke live with us here on backstory. Hi Terry. Hi, Dana. Thanks for doing this. I mean that, that soundbite, uh, that we just played, you criticize Boris Johnson, the prime minister of Britain for his actions over Brexit, telling him to take responsibility, not to lie to the people of the UK. What was he lying about? Terry Reintke - German MEP: (22:51) Well, I think already in the stat of, um, you know, all this debate, that campaign, uh, that led to Brexit the referendum, and there were a lot of misconceptions and have set. And I mean the most obvious one is obviously this best way. You know, people were told that there would be 350 billion pounds, million pounds that would be spent, uh, for the NHS after Brexit. And I think that this kind of really went through, um, the whole debate on Brexit. And then when he became prime minister, this continued, and I think it's really something that created a lot of frustration on the other side of the channel, because obviously, you know, there can be differences in opinion, but if we don't talk about the same facts, any kind of negotiations, I just made impossible basically. Um, so I hope that, um, we can, you know, continue our relationship based on facts and not on some spins by some spin doctors. Dana Lewis - Host : (23:43) Do you think if the conservative had been a little more straightforward Dana Lewis - Host : (23:46) And the pro Brexit tears had not spun the truth as much as they did on issues like sovereign Deon immigration, um, do you think that the British public would have supported this or do you think they would have voted no. The first time? Terry Reintke - German MEP: (24:05) Well, you see counterfactual history is a waste a hat a thing because obviously things turned out as they did. I still think that, I mean, I remember that the first, um, hit on Google, uh, the day after the referendum was what is the European union in the UK. And I think it tells you a lot about what was the basis for a lot of people to take this decision on and looking back, a lot of people who voted leave say, you know, if I'd really had all the insight, I would have voted differently. So I think it also gives us a lesson that if we ask people to take a decision in a referendum, we need to give them all the information and we need to provide them with a plan. What do we want to do with the outcome? And if we want to have a credible debate and then obviously a credible decision by the people. Um, so I would say that, Dana Lewis - Host : (24:50) What about fear do you think when you look at Britain from, from the European mainland and you go, why on earth? Did they vote for Brexit when they don't even know how to do Brexit? They don't know how to exit the EU. They D they want independence, but they're negotiating trade dependence. I mean, what on earth do you think the vote was about? Really? Terry Reintke - German MEP: (25:14) I think it was about something that is deeply emotional. Um, you know, this claim of take back control. This is something that really speaks to like a feeling of independence, freedom, Liberty, that, you know, a lot of people are very, I think, open towards. Um, and then when we were talking about, you know, sovereignty sovereignty very much, yes. And you know, when you look at the two campaigns, the vote leave campaign versus the, the, the better together, stronger together campaign, you could really see. The one side was appealing to people's emotions, you know, taking back control freedom and all this. And the other side was giving you all the best data and facts, right? Economically it's smart to be in the European union, but I don't think that this, there was an even, uh, like a balanced discussion because the, the starting points of the Trudy beds were so different. And I think we have to learn from that. We also have to appear to people's emotions, because this is the starting point where a lot of people take decisions on, Dana Lewis - Host : (26:12) Do you see parallels between what happened in America with Donald Trump and the pro Brexit vote? This kind of populism? Not really based a lot of it on reality. Terry Reintke - German MEP: (26:23) Definitely. And I think that, I mean, the sentiment that Donald Trump was trying to push in people and what the Brexit campaign was trying to do, I think has a lot of similarities. Um, and I think now, I mean, very happily Donald Trump is not going to be the U S president, uh, very much longer. No, you're kidding. Nobody told Dana Lewis - Host : (26:44) Him yet. He told him he just hasn't digested it yet. Terry Reintke - German MEP: (26:47) Yeah. Yeah. I think he still hasn't realized probably. Um, and I hope that this, this the same will happen in the UK that people will realize at some point, you know, there can be this great spins and get great slogans and great emotional appeals. But in the end, talking about facts and looking at what is realistically possible is still the basis of reality and what we can do politically. Um, and I hope that, you know, if there is going to be a deal and then for the future relations between the EU and the UK, this sentiments really going to come back and look, we have a lot of things in common. We have a lot of interests in common next, try to work together, um, as much as we can, Dana Lewis - Host : (27:24) Well, I'll never let the facts get in the way of a good political campaign, I guess. I mean, you know, they don't want a level playing field, so they, they don't want to meet the same standards on the environment. They don't wanna meet the same standards or be stuck in the same standards of labor rights. Uh, they don't want to be stuck in the same standards of human rights, but they want access to the European common market. Where's the disconnect there? Terry Reintke - German MEP: (27:48) Well, I think that this whole campaign and, you know, Boris Johnson's negotiation strategy was based on the illusion that that would be possible, you know, that we could just claim that we can have our cake and eat it, and then it's going to become reality, but this is not how the world works. And I think that this is also dawning now to the, to the British side. Um, and I hope that in the end, rationality is going to prevail and we are going to get a deal and we can work together in the futures as closely as possible. Dana Lewis - Host : (28:16) But even if they have a deal, do you think that they're going to commit to resolving differences by European court, or, I mean, in the end, they need to be able to tell the British people that they have sovereignty, and there is no mechanism in place in that agreement that will buy in Britain to European standards and that they're still free and sovereign. So how do you see an agreement actually working? I mean, is it smoke and mirrors in the end? Terry Reintke - German MEP: (28:45) Well, you see what happened with the internal market bill and, you know, basically a couple of months after signing and ratifying the withdrawal agreement already planning to break it. I think a lot of trust has been broken on the European side. And I think that this is not something that is going to be easily mended, but I still hope that in the end, also the, the British side in these negotiations and for the future for, you know, whatever kind of interdependence we are going to have, um, that they are going to realize that this multilateral rules rules-based world order is something that we all benefit from. And it's something that actually the British have very much helped to build. So it is something that the British should be proud of and, you know, continue to, to support. Um, and I hope that this is going to come back. And what gives me hope in this is the decision recently taken in the U S you know, Donald Trump had his four years and now it's over. Um, so in the end, populism can be defeated. And I hope that the will be true in the UK as well. Dana Lewis - Host : (29:43) Do you think the Britain will rejoin the EU that it's inevitable five years from now, 10 years from now? Terry Reintke - German MEP: (29:48) Well, you see the last speech I gave him, the European parliament was, um, was, uh, this year I was 32 then, um, and I said that I, in my lifetime, I'm going to see, uh, British MVPs being reelected to the European parliament. Uh, I do believe that, but I also hope that I'm still going to have a long life. So I'm not going to tell you that it's going to happen in five or 10 years. But I think at some point, especially in a world where, you know, um, a lot of adverse adversarial powers are, you know, uh, fighting with each other, if you want to call it that. Um, I hope that in the UK, a majority will understand that having very close partners and allies under an umbrella, such as the European union in the continent, where they are going to continue to be geographically based, it's something that is very important and powerful. And, um, that then eventually they're going to come back to the EU. Dana Lewis - Host : (30:41) What happens to the rest of the European union? Terri, if, if Britain does get a trade deal, isn't there a danger of other countries within the EU, like hungry, like Poland, that don't exactly like some of the human rights standards and, uh, on same-sex marriages on, I mean, there's a host of issues, free press. What, what do you think that they're going to say? Aren't they going to say, well, Hey, maybe we can have this freight free trade deal, but we don't need to apply the same standards, democratic human rights standards of the EU. So maybe we'll go out to isn't that a danger. Terry Reintke - German MEP: (31:15) Well, you know, a lot of people talked about that. And then when you look at what Brexit actually did, uh, in the rest of the European union, if you look at the Europe, our major numbers, it's really pushed up the approval rates of membership of the European union and all other member States. Um, so I think, Dana Lewis - Host : (31:33) So it worked, it worked in reverse. People don't want to go through this Brexit problem in that Britain's had now for four years. Terry Reintke - German MEP: (31:41) Exactly. And I think that also, if you will see what kind of, even if there is going to be a trade deal, what kind of loss there is going to be economically, but also politically, and for the UK, with this Brexit, um, it's not going to be a very success, uh, a very big success story. So I'm not afraid that because of that other, uh, member States would leave. Um, I would rather think that, um, there might be other, other reasons that, you know, could be a danger for the European union, especially if we don't stand up to these tendencies that I believe you were referring to authoritarian tendencies in countries like Poland and Hungary. Um, but again, you know, the European union is not subbed to something set in stone. The European union is also what we make of it. So I hope that in the future, we are going to take smart decisions here in Brussels and in the capitals of the EU, and then continue to build this project. Dana Lewis - Host : (32:33) Why do you think it's not going to be a very good deal for Britain in the long run? You don't think that they're going to have economic prosperity by being kind of, you know, a distant neighbor. Terry Reintke - German MEP: (32:44) Well, you see, for me, the UK had the best deal. It could have been member of the European union, because if you look at it, they already had a lot of exceptions actually. Uh, so they had a little bit in [inaudible]. It was sitting around the table, they were influencing the decisions. They're not going to be able to do that anymore now. And I think in terms of, if we really want to speak about sovereignty, I really think it's also an illusion to believe. Um, the less you are actually cooperating with others, the more sovereign you are. I think what is much more powerful is that you sit here at the table in Brussels and you actually, you know, pull the others in your direction and influence their decision-making. And this is what the UK is going to lack in the future. I think it's a big loss, um, politically and economically, uh, we will see that. And this is also why I hope that in the, in the future, uh, the tide will turn again. Dana Lewis - Host : (33:36) Can I just ask you one last question and that is not, it's a complete right-hand turn and, uh, that is because of where we are in 2020 at the end of a pandemic you're in Germany. You were going through a very severe lockdown in a lot of places right now. Um, how are you and how do you think the country is fairing? Terry Reintke - German MEP: (33:57) Well, I think right now, I mean, it's, it's the lockdown, um, that I think a lot of countries had already been through, at least in the European union in Germany was maybe a little bit later with the second wave. Um, and it's a very, very challenging debate in Germany, um, because, um, obviously, um, I mean, you pay a price for all of this, um, Dana Lewis - Host : (34:18) Deleted to get personal. I deleted a long time. He's not a close friend, but he's a time acquaintance that I worked with who lives in Germany. And he started saying that these measures are fascist. And I, I tried to reason with them a little bit, and in the end I deleted them from my Facebook page and made it quite public that I didn't want those kinds of people on my Facebook or those kinds of people that I, I really don't agree with because I think Germany is struggling reluctantly to limit rights and freedoms. So the people are going to stay safe. I mean, they're trying to save lives. Merkel's generally doing a pretty good job, I think, but I wanted, I wanted your opinion. Terry Reintke - German MEP: (34:52) Well, you see, we recently had a study made, uh, for commissioned, um, from, from our group in the European parliament. And we talked about, um, this very, I think delicate balance between restricting people's freedoms, which, you know, in a pandemic like this, if you want to get it under control, you have to do to a certain extent and also using this, um, in a way. And I think that this happened, uh, in some member States, also in the European union, um, to maybe, you know, uh, have a, have a, uh, a backlash on some democratic, uh, measures, what you could see for example, in Hungary. Um, and you could see that everywhere, including in Germany rights and freedoms were restricted, but obviously they need to be focused on a certain and, you know, like, uh, um, basically getting the pandemic under control, they need to be time limited and they need to be proportional. Terry Reintke - German MEP: (35:44) And in the end, when we look back, I think a lot of the measures that have been taken, uh, you know, then with the knowledge that we will have, um, we may be put in question, but I think if they are always done in order to get this pandemic under control, um, and they're time limited and they're proportional, um, we will also have to pay a certain price, um, to, to fight against this virus. And this is I think, um, very much what, what the German government is trying to do with a lot of challenges there. Um, because you know, Germany is a federal state. So we also have the lender that have a lot of competence in all of this, um, which has made it, I think, a little bit more difficult. Um, but at the same time having said this, I can also see that for a lot of people. Terry Reintke - German MEP: (36:28) What is happening right now is a very, very big challenge. And I mean, I talk about the economic difficulties that a lot of people are going through, but also what this means for people personally, you know, people who live in very small apartments who cannot meet friends and family who cannot go out, people who have children, maybe when the schools and the childcare facilities are closed. So I think we have to take certain steps, but at the same time, we always have to see what does this mean in people's everyday lives and how can we make the situation as bearable as possible for everyone. Dana Lewis - Host : (37:00) Terry, Reintke great to talk to you. Uh, you remember the green party, you're a member of European parliament for Germany. Terry is completely forthright, uh, bold, uh, speaks with, with no limits I think, and in a reasonable way. And it's great to hear your views and thank you so much. Thanks. Thanks Dana. Dana Lewis - Host : (37:25) Finally back to the UK and we talked to one of our regular commentators on backstory for her take on Brexit and the pandemic, a perfect economic storm. I want to bring in Joe Phillips. Hi Joe. Hi, Dana. Joe Phillips is a commentator and we've done a number of broadcasts together. So Joe, first of all, I mean, let, let's talk about where we are. Uh, Michel Barnier, um, you know, talks we're supposed to break up between the European union and Britain on Sunday. Suddenly they've now extended yet again, uh, Barnea is sounding a little more optimistic, but they, they both sides say they're far away from a deal right now, but it looks like there could be a mechanism that they can agree to on trade if there is a, a conflict over a particular sector, um, and, and some kind of, uh, you know, resolution to that, whether it be in the courts, European courts, nobody is set Jo Phillips: (38:24) Well, I think things are a little bit more optimistic than they were a week ago. I mean, we've had mixed messages coming out of Brussels and out of London. Um, you know, last week it was all over it. We were heading for no deal, no question. Um, and as you say, the talks went on, uh, with, um, [inaudible] and Boris Johnson, the British prime minister over the weekend, but we, you know, we are stuck with December the 31st that is enshrined in law. So whatever happens, we are coming out, that is the end of our well we're out anyway, but that's the, that's the end of the transition period. Now it is quite possible that they might be able to pull something out of the hat and carry on talking. Um, but of course for businesses, you know, with just three weeks to go and Christmas, and COVID the perfect storm that you alluded to, it's a very, very, very uncertain time. And, you know, the economy is not looking great as it is around the rest of the world is being hit very badly by coronavirus. Um, but you know, here where I'm talking to you from in Kent, you know, we've got Lori Parks all ready to go, and we've seen, Dana Lewis - Host : (39:34) Let's talk about first, this really sexy thing called the level playing field. I'm being completely facetious, but level playing field means essentially that Britain leaves the European union, but they want to trade with the European union. Uh, they want independence, but they want interdependent trade. That, that hasn't confused. You enough, I'll keep going. But if, for instance, Britain starts deregulating industry labor, practice, environmental practice, making goods cheaper to produce here. Then the EU would cry foul, and they would say, wait a minute. Or if, or if the British government starts subsidizing certain industry, European union will say, that's not a level playing field and there will have to be some penalty because you are going to undersell businesses or factories in the European union. I got that, right? Jo Phillips: (40:29) Yeah, pretty much. Um, and I think, you know, there's a whole raft of stuff which refers to environmental standards, food standards, uh, workers' rights, workers' protection. I mean, we've already seen this government in this country has relaxed the rules on the number of hours that lorry drivers can be behind the wheel in order to be able to sit in twos at Dover or on the other side of the channel. Um, so, you know, you can understand, and it's, it seems to me that it's perfectly legitimate, um, that you, if you're going to trade, you have to trade on an equal playing field, um, that you then get into, if you want it to look really sexy, you then get into the ratchet agreement, which is the bit that, um, Britain has really, really got cross about that. Um, Brussels basically wants to say, well, you know, as things change as you know, different technologies come to light different processes, what have you, we, they want the right to, uh, to change, um, what creates that, not so much a level playing field, but to make sure that you're trading on equal terms mean there are, there are two levels to this Dana Lewis - Host : (41:35) It's as you would in any country, in any country where there's a free trade trade agreement. I mean, I come from, I come from Canada and Canada has a us free trade deal, uh, with the United States, if Canada starts dumping lumber or dumping steel, uh, or, or doing any of those things, then the U S can bring in sanctions or say it's a violation of the free trade agreement. And then what we would do is they would have a mechanism between them to try and work that out. But Britain wants to leave. They want, they want to sell into the European union because that's the biggest trading block for them. That's the biggest buyer of their goods, but they don't want to have any mechanism if they suddenly undercut European businesses. Jo Phillips: (42:18) No. And I think, you know, from a European point of view and from certainly those of us who think the whole thing is a very bad idea. It looks as though the British government wants to have their cake eat it and then lick the knife afterwards. And they're not prepared to budge on anything. Um, but it does seem as though there is a little breakthrough. I mean, whether or not it comes to anything, but that may unlock, you know, the rest of the sticking, Dana Lewis - Host : (42:41) If it doesn't, if it doesn't unlock, there's that picture on the screen there of trucks lined up at places like Kalai, which is the French, uh, port that brings, you know, tens of thousands of trucks into the United Kingdom, um, uh, medical goods, food incredibly, you live here and you hear them daily, but for a lot of people around the world who don't understand how dire some of the warnings are, what will take place here? You have trucks suddenly cannot properly cross the border. Jo Phillips: (43:13) Well, there was a, there's a guy who's got a haulage company. Um, he had 64 lorries, um, and he said, uh, he was speaking the other day and said, I've cut my fleet to four because I can't afford to have 60 lorries sitting in queues. And I mean, they'd been doing practices over the last couple of weeks. Seems like a really crazy idea this late in the day, um, and is a queuing for five, six, seven hours. Um, the government has already said they would expect the lorries to, uh, be queuing cups on either side of the channel. So 48 hours. And the only exemptions on this, you may laugh are live checks and fish, but you know, what does that mean to salad crops and fruit and vegetables? We import 75% of stuff from Europe. And of course the other thing for the trucking companies is they don't want to come over with full loads and then go back into, um, and they certainly don't want to go back and sit down. Dana Lewis - Host : (44:12) And a lot of people don't realize what's been taking place here over the last few weeks are big, big, big grocery stores like Sainsbury's and Tesco. And they've been stockpiling. They've been told to it, stockpile, at least six weeks in advance. Uh, food prices are already going up 5%. And by the way, Joe, I know this is, this is a right hand turn, but you've just reminded me. There is saying that, that the burrata, which I love the burrata cheese, uh, pro probably will not make the journey very well because they will get stuck at the border and it'll spoil, Jo Phillips: (44:46) It's a burrata disaster. It, you know, it's going to mean, you know, everything you take for granted, um, is going to cost a lot more olive oil, pasta, tomatoes, salad, crops, fruit, and vegetable, citrus fruit, um, you know, it couldn't happen at the worst time of the year. You know, what have we got to offer in Britain? Well, at the moment it's brussel sprouts and there are other soggy because they're underwater, Dana Lewis - Host : (45:11) Let's move on to the next, let's move on to the next slide. I feel like I'm doing a home home, home viewing here. Yeah, it's a UK warship. Um, and Boris Johnson's government said that they will, they're going to send warships into the English channel, uh, because once there is no trade deal, um, then the, the, the French are going to be pushed out of British waters. Um, the majority of, of fishing boats in there are European fishing boats and just not French, but, uh, you know, Dodge in different countries come in there. Most of the fish that is taken here, uh, by British fishermen is sold into the European union anyway, fishing zero point economy. Jo Phillips: (46:02) Yeah, it's, it's a tiny, tiny, tiny part of GDP, but it is very totemic as it is around Europe and all fishing countries. But it's particularly so in England because we are an Island nation. Um, but the idea that we would put our warships around our coastal waters to threaten or deter NATO partners is frankly embarrassing. It is ridiculous. And there's been wildly condemned by, you know, military and service experts. And, uh, the chair, Dana Lewis - Host : (46:33) The defense secretary of Britain came out today and said that, that it, it needed to be done Jo Phillips: (46:38) The defense secretary. Yes, indeed. But the chairman of the much more influential commons defense committee, um, a former military man himself said it was embarrassing. I mean, you know, people from the old days, the good old days of, um, a different sort of conservative party, which wasn't XE nationalistic based on personality and based on this particularly ridiculous right wing agenda of nationalism and isolationism have come out and rod roundly condemned it, it is utterly ridiculous. You know, we, as you say, export, most of the fish that we catch in these waters to Europe, um, and there's always been an argument with British fishermen who feel as they've been unfairly penalized because there have been limits on stocks and they're supposed to throw back on the size fish and they say, Oh, you go to any fish market in France, Spain, we'll look at the sprats. There's more fish that are on, on for sale there. So, you know, that's not going to go away Dana Lewis - Host : (47:36) Anyway, it's one of those, it's one of those political discussions because when the government starts explaining level playing field and trade sanctions to the public, they, their eyes glaze over. But when we talk about fish in territorial waters, somehow Boris Johnson's government think that thinks that that's more appealing and more sellable as we speak, the European union is sitting, uh, with the United Kingdom. Uh, and they are very close to either having a deal, a trade deal, or very close to having talks completely collapsed. And Britain emerge in January with no trade deal with its biggest trading partner, which is Europe. So Joe, how does this end? Jo Phillips: (48:15) I don't think it's going to be a happy ending, but I think it could be slightly less bad if we end up with some deal, some deal gives you a sliver of hope. No deal gives you no hope. We will be, you know, we are already a diminished country, a diminished nation. Um, I think our standing around the world has gone completely downhill, not least because of the, the threats and the willingness that was exposed, um, of Boris Johnson's government to break international law. I mean, they have removed that, uh, from the treaty, but don't forget Dana that even if we get some sort of deal, it is still got to be ratified by the European parliament. It's going to be, you know, logistically it's got to be translated into 24 different languages. And all of that has got to be done before the 31st of December. So, you know, we're on a very, very tight deadline here. Um, I would like to think we come up with a deal because a deal has got to be better than no deal. Uh, I don't have the face in the prime minister that he will not just walk away and leave us dangling over a Clifford. Dana Lewis - Host : (49:17) Does it at the end of this, in my last question to you, is it not ironic in so many different ways, but Britain was sold Brexit, leaving the European union to have its sovereignty, to be independent, which a lot of people say that they had their sovereignty and they were independent anyway, but that's how it was sold to the British people who supported the referendum. And now nobody understands quite why Boris Johnson's government is having so much trouble negotiating a deal that is all about inter dependence because that's what you have to do with your trading part. Jo Phillips: (49:57) Exactly. But, you know, Boris Johnson was saying, um, you know, he's been in power, have been in number 10 for exactly a year. He won with a huge majority. Um, and he has been talking for years about having this oven ready deal. Well, now it appears he hasn't even got an oven, nevermind anything to put in it. Um, and the number of people who say, Oh, if I'd known it was going to be like this, I wouldn't have voted leave. I mean, the challenge I think, and I know we're coming to the end of this, but the challenge for us, whatever happens, it's how you begin to rebuild a country that is not based on, well, you voted for this, this is your fault. We have to somehow or other together work our way out of it. Um, and it may be that, you know, if we can leave the door open a little bit, there will be a room for us, another government in years to come to make a better relationship with Europe. But at the moment, as you said, it is utterly ridiculous. We've been banging on about sovereignty and independence. And here we are now trying to create something that is so determined on interdependence of our European thoughts. Dana Lewis - Host : (51:02) Joel Phillips. Great to talk to you again. And, uh, yeah, here we are. And, and, uh, at the worst possible time, when you come to me is already on its knees with COVID-19, uh, and they are rapidly approaching January, where if they get a trade deal, um, it will be interesting if they can actually, as you said, get it through parliament, get it through the European union, which I think they probably will in the end, if they can sign off on a deal and have the support, uh, France and Germany and the majors. Uh, but at the same time, they're very close to teetering on the edge of not having a deal as well. So, uh, Joe, good to talk to you. Jo Phillips: (51:39) And, um, why do say we will return to this subject one way or the other before Dana Lewis - Host : (51:44) We will. Thank you so much. Speaker 2: (51:45) That's our backstory rumors of some kind of trade dealer. Rampant Britain is not likely to completely drop out of the EU with no deal because more than 50% of its trade goes to the EU and it's got all those fish to sell. As it renews its territorial claims over its waters. It will lose a lot of financial services to the EU banks and insurance companies and legal services have already shifted to places like Madrid and Paris and Frankfurt, and even Ireland in 2018, the financial services sector, by the way, contributed 132 billion pounds to the UK economy. That's about 7% of total economic output. The sector was the largest in London and they can kiss a lot of that. Goodbye. What's interesting is the opposition parties in Britain are sitting quietly, no longer campaigning for a new referendum because they think voters will not clearly support that yet. Speaker 2: (52:43) And they don't want to tell the British people we told you so that Brexit was a disaster because in politics, voters don't like that either. You can't seem to be celebrating someone's miserable. So the opposition parties in the UK that's labor and the liberal Democrats are paralyzed and seem to have no strategy. It'll take a few years for everyone to say Brexit was a complete mistake probably after Scotland leaves the UK and rejoins Europe's trading block, which is now very likely. So economic break-off will bring the breakup of the union from London. I'm Dana Lewis. Thanks for listening to backstory. Please share our podcast and I'll talk to you aagain soon.
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renegadesrpg · 3 years
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Soulmates: Part 7, Healing. Layla and Sean.
Part 7. Healing
 Sean: I know she said it had a security system, but I reach my senses out, feeling out the interior of the cottage, the wooded night behind us, but feel no presence that doesn't belong there. Still holding her hand I mist us again, this time just to the other side of the door. “This is nice. I can see you here. See /us/ here."
  Layla: Me too. It's a sweet place. Hey, shall we have some coffee? I still want to tell you my story. Coffee first though, k?
 Sean: Sounds good. *shucking my jacket and pulling my tie off as we head to the kitchen -- I'll wear it for her, but monkey suits are just not my deal -- and start to drape them over the back of a kitchen chair but screw it. With a thought I send them back to my room at the Brazil safe house. Not like I've stayed there since this started, but this shit's paid for and waste not, want not, ya' know? Moving up behind Layla, I put my hands on her waist and drop a kiss on her shoulder.* Need any help?
 Layla: Oh no, I've got it love. Have a seat.
 Sean: *pausing a moment to nuzzle her ear so I can inhale the fragrance of her hair, I finally let go of her waist and go to sit at the kitchen table.* I'm glad we went out someplace fancy tonight. It's not my norm though. Next time I'd like to take you to a jeans-and-boots kind of place with live music and peanut shells on the floor.
 Layla: That sounds fun. And dancing! You promised.
 Sean: *grins* Yeah, I did. I love dancing with you. I get to hold you in my arms.
 Layla: And I love being held. *I pour two cups of coffee* Sugar or cream?
  Sean: *shaking my head* Black and strong, babe. You're all the sugar I need.
  Layla: *giggles* Here tough guy. *hands you the cup while I sit and add sugar and cream to mine*
  Sean: *grins as she sits down across from me, then letting it fade. This isn't going to be an easy conversation. I know how hard this is. Inhaling, I open my gift to feel her emotions. I don't have it open all the time. It wouldn’t fair to her, but now, I need to know how to help her, what she needs from me. And to find a way to siphon off the anxiety and pain when it gets to be overwhelming without interfering with her healing from it.* 
So baby, *reaching out and putting my hand over hers* we don't have to talk about this if you don't want to, but I want /you/ to know, that I'm here. I got your back and no matter what you tell me, I'm not going anywhere. I think you are a brave, strong female and you honor me by letting me be with you. I'll always feel that way. Because I love you.
  Layla: As I love you. You should know all sides of me, what you are getting. *takes a deep breath and looks off into the distance* I was in my dorm room meditating when I heard the first explosion. I thought maybe I'd fallen asleep and had a nightmare till my Sisters began screaming. I left my room to investigate and all I could see was smoke, blood from males and Chosen. The Primale was fighting with two big males. He looked to be winning until one put a blade through his back. I screamed and ran towards him. Not sure what I could've done but I felt I needed to try. Just before I got to him I was grabbed from behind. I tried to fight the male off, really I did but the male was strong. He put a bag over my head and said something about a good price. I kept screaming and kicking until something hard hit my head, then it was just darkness and quiet. *takes a sip of my coffee*
  Sean: *still leaning forward with my hand over hers, I let a sense of safety and comfort flow to her. And I push back my growing anger at her attackers. She doesn't need that from me right now.* You must have been terrified, but you were so brave to try to help the Primale.
  Layla: I wasn't the only one to try but none of us could. So many of my Sisters died and several went missing, never to be heard from again. *shaking my head a bit* Next thing I knew I was waking up in a dark room, naked, blood dripping from my head. My head hurt, a lot, and I had to stop the need to vomit. I could hear arguing going on outside my door. One male was saying something about “using her for offspring”, the other was saying “sell to the highest bidder”. The arguing got louder till there was growling and a gunshot. My ears were ringing when a male entered. He had blood on him and a sick smile. He smiled, licked his lips, and said he had someplace special for me to go. He tied my hands in steel cuffs so I could not dematerialize. A bag went back over my head and he dragged me to a car.
I have no idea how long we drove, felt like an eternity, but eventually we stopped and I smelled other male vampires. *shivers and grabs for my coffee*
  Sean: *She'd pulled her hand away from me and I could feel her pull into herself. I'm angry at what had happened to her and terrified for her at the same time. She's tried to wall it off but I can feel her pain and terror and I want to tell her she doesn't have to go on but I know she needs to do this. For all the reasons I'd give her before, but mostly so she can begin to heal from it instead of hiding from it. Gently, I ask." What happened then?
 Layla: Chosen aren't allowed to mingle with the regular community because we are supposed to tend to the Brotherhood and King primarily. So, I didn’t have a lot of understanding about what to expect from the regular community males. Their scents though, were strong, It stuck to me, as if I hadn’t bathed in months. It was foul and nausea inducing. Next thing I knew I was being sold to them. However, these males didn’t play fair and killed the males who were selling me. I was kept in a steel room, naked, and barely fed. Once a week I'd get a plain peanut butter sandwich and an apple. Once a week they’d come in and taunt me, say all manner of foul things designed to hurt and strike fear in me. I still am not sure why, it must have made them feel like big males...you know? Every couple of weeks they would take me to a room, chain me to a pipe in the ceiling and torture me. They used whatever they had available: nails, hands, chains, whips, screwdrivers, knives, teeth, and so on. They tore me up but avoided my lower legs and face. They said they thought it'd be funny if people still thought I was beautiful when I was really a monster. We can heal but not if exposed to salt. So they would let me start healing, which was slow due to not feeding, then they'd come in and dump salt water on me. I'm scarred, especially my back. I was in that dark room, laying on a worn blanket for nearly a century. Twice a year they gave me blood so I wouldn't die and when my needing hit they knocked me out with drugs. They taunted me before using the drugs though, they'd talk about how they were going to use my body while I was unconscious. They would get descriptive with what they’d use so as to not get me pregnant but still have their fun, THEN they'd knock me out. It was hell, but one day, they slipped up. *I go get some water from the sink hanging onto it for dear life*
  Sean: *getting up, I follow her to the sink and wrap my arms around her, steadying her as I lay my cheek against her hair. Her pain is off the charts. I let all the comfort and soothing I can flow to her, trying to help her get through this* It's ok, baby. I got you.
  Layla: *I lean back into your arms* I know Sean. *I turn in your arms* I'm almost finished. * I lean up, kiss you softly then wiggle out of your embrace* One night, they left a female doggen with me. I talked to her for, like, hours. Eventually, she opened my door. I got her to do little things like get me another apple. Then she gave me a shirt to cover myself, then she let me use an actual bathroom. That bathroom had a window just big enough for me to get through. I was in the second story of a building so when I dropped I hurt my ankle, but I didn't care. I ran until I felt safe, then dematerialized to where I knew one of the Brothers lived. There I learned how long I'd been gone and was made aware of the changes that had occurred within the race. And now, here I am. *I smile* This is me Sean. *taking a deep breath I unzip my dress and let it fall to the floor, turning around in a circle, exposing my scars to you*
 Sean: *I'd let her slip from my arms, knowing she needed to stand on her own to finish this but when she let her dress fall I had to steel my face not to react. There were scars upon scars that began at her shoulders and extended down her body almost to her knees. I knew without looking that her back would be even worse. I wanted to shout in rage, to punch walls, to hurt someone like I'd never hurt anyone in my life. Each mark on her body screamed at me of the pain she'd endured, the fear and hopelessness this beautiful, brave female had felt. But I couldn't let her see it. It wasn't what she needed from me. Later, I'd find out where this house was and I'd visit it. I'd find out if there were any of this batch of vamps still alive and I'd make them wish they could die. But right now I could sense her fear, her uncertainty. And it was all centered on me. Quietly I step forward and place my hands on her shoulders. I let them run down her arms, her sides, touching her everywhere. I want her to know I love touching her. To know she's beautiful.* Every scar, every mark on your body, is a badge of courage. I want to touch, to kiss, to love, every single one of them. Because they mean you lived. You survived. You're here with me only because of them and I'm grateful they're there *tilting your face up to mine* You are brave, and beautiful and I am honored you love me. I can take these scars from you, if you let me, but only if you want me to. To me, they're beautiful, Layla-mine. All of you, inside and out. *lowering my lips to yours, I kiss you gently.*
  Layla: *Tears I'd held in for so long began to slide down my face as I pressed into you, deepening the kiss.*
  Sean: *My hands run down her body, caressing every scar I touch with reverence and love. My mouth moves against yours, the sweetness of it mixing with the salt of your tears. I bend slightly and pick you up, cradling you to my chest, my mouth still on yours. Finally I break away, mouth hovering over yours* Where's your room.I want to lay you down and worship every mark on you. If you'll let me baby.
  Layla: *I wrap my legs around your waist, holding you close* Down the hall second door on the right.
  Sean: *Nuzzling your neck as I carry you to the bedroom, I whisper* You are my light. *When we get to the bedroom, I lay her down gently on the bed. With a thought, I send all my clothing but my boxers back to Brazil and kneel over her body.* I think you need a kiss here....*my mouth moves over a long, snaking scar that runs from just below her shoulder to the top of her breast.* And here...*again, I kiss puncture wounds and claw marks on her left side...* And, *looking deeply into her eyes as I run my fingertips over the scars on her breasts.* Right here.
  Layla: Oh yes, right there Sean. *moans with each touch on my battered skin*
  Sean: *kissing her slowly as my hands caress the scarred and puckered skin of her breast, my thumb circles one hard, pebbled nub. Breaking the kiss, I move my lips down her neck to the scars on her chest and then down her breasts to fasten on her nipple. Laving it with my tongue as I squeeze the breast with one hand, I move my body lower, and use my knee to part her legs so I can settle between them, stretched out as I suck the still sensitive nipple.*
  Layla: Oh Sean! Don't stop. *every lick, every kiss, every caress sends an electrical current through my body, waking it up from its long slumber* Thank you *I whisper as I grab your hair pulling you closer to where the electrical current is centered*
  Sean: *licking her nipple I move to the other breast to kiss a long scar running along the underside, the taking the nipple in my mouth and sucking hard. My hand's rove down her sides to her hips and I release her breast and move my lips down her torso. Slowly, I pay homage to each scar in its turn, moving to her taut stomach. The fragrance of her essence fills my senses, and my own desire mounts. My lips move lower, to the juncture of her hip and thigh as I slide lower on her body. There's a scar that runs from that soft joint at a horizontal angle to the inside of her thigh. I move my lips along it to the end and nip the soft tissue on the inside of her legs. My hands slide around her hips to cup her ass, feeling the scars there too. On some level I'm feeling rage at the actions that put these marks on her, on such private, tender parts of her body, and grief that she endured such pain and humiliation, but it's submerged now in passion rooted in love. The cleft of her passion is bare before me and I run my tongue along it, my warm breath trailing behind it.* Open for me baby...
  Layla: *my breath is coming in quick pants. I open my legs relishing the heat of his breath on my skin and the scent of his arousal in my nose* Yes mine Heart....
  Sean: *She opened to me, the lips of her bare mound parting to display her glistening clit. The fragrance of her arousal has my mouth watering to taste it. Moving to slid her legs over my shoulders, I run my tongue along the long slit, swirling over the clit then down to lick into her entrance. Nibbling on her inner thigh for a moment first, I lick my way back up her cleft to her clit and fasten my lips over it, sucking and licking as her body begins to buck beneath my mouth*
  Layla: Oh Scribe Virgin that's too much and so good! *I buck as I start to fall over the cliff in a delicious wave of ecstasy*
  Sean: *She tastes like peaches and honey as her desire peaks and she comes apart beneath my mouth. As she finally stills, I pull back, licking my lips,* Layla-mine..." I whisper as I pull myself back up her body to kiss her deeply, turning out the lights with a thought, and settling in to hold her through the night.*
 #TBC
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