#so i discovered that julie can apparently talk to flowers?

[raerodart]

Can you keep a secret?

#art by rae #welcome home #welcome home arg #julie joyful #ipad pro #autodesk sketchbook #it’s transparent! #so i discovered that julie can apparently talk to flowers? #she is the literal definition of Flower Power

[daysofourlivesrecaps]

Friday, 28 July 2023

“Things are heating up on Days of Our Lives” is the generic thing the announcer says if you’re not quick enough to skip past the autoplay promo bullshit on Peacock. Presumably they had him say that because things are always heating up and therefore it will always be true.

Today it’s not particularly true. TWO SETS OF PEOPLE ARE GETTING MARRIED AND IT’S FRIDAY and it’s still not really true. Join me now on this journey of not-really-heating up, won’t you?

First, Rafe visits Jada to invite him to Gabi and Stefan’s wedding.

I am embarrassed to admit that I spent a minute or two wondering why the fuck Rafe would bother going to that before I remembered that Gabi is his sister. And I only remembered it then because he said it out loud.

Jada’s all “fine, I guess we’re allowed to openly be a couple now so I’ll go to your stupid family obligation thing.” (Actually she seems pretty happy to go. I suspect she’s heard about how insane Salem weddings can get and is excited that she finally has a chance to see one herself.)

Over at Sloan’s place, Eric shows up and he’s furious. He’s seen the results of that DNA test that EJ and Nicole had done and now he knows Nicole’s baby is really his and that Sloan covered it up.

Which would be an amazing development — some actual forward motion in this stupid, go-nowhere plot… if not for the fact that it was all a dream.

Uggggh.

Sloan ends up going to the hospital, claiming to be Nicole, and dropping “her husband” EJ DiMera’s name to terrify the staff into handing over the test to her.

Sloan, YOU ARE A LAWYER. Not only should you know better, but you should have a lot more dignity than the levels you’ve been displaying lately.

Then Nicole (the actual Nicole) shows up for the test results.

So Sloan ducks into a side room and tears open the test results to discover… the baby isn’t EJ’s. Meaning it’s Eric’s.

Which will be great. Some day. When Eric ends up with two babies with two women who despise each other. But that’s months and months from now. Sloan herself is like, six hours pregnant at this point. We have so much more of this tedium ahead of us.

Meanwhile, Gwen is getting ready for her wedding and picks up Leo’s phone, which has a bunch of racy text messages showing up on the lock screen.

Yes Gwen, I suppose you shall say that.

The messages came from someone Leo has saved as “MP” and in case you forgot, this is a reference to Dimitri’s magic penis.

Oh, Leo. You’re so cute when you’re secretly fucking the fiance of the only person you claim to care about in this world.

Gabi and Stefan are also preparing for their wedding today, but mostly they’re sitting upstairs and telling each other how in love they are.

I’m certain I’ve pointed this out before, but this is usually a sure-fire sign that something is about to explode. Or at the very least, heat up. But mostly they’re still just being cute. Which I don’t actually mind because I’m certain this isn’t going to last very much longer.

Then Dimitri shows up at the DiMera mansion to throw his wedding with Gwen… only to find that Stefan already has the place decked out for his wedding to Gabi.

And suddenly I am reminded of the late, great John Aniston (whose character is still apparently alive somehow), who, when asked what his favorite moment during his tenure on the show was, mentioned the lavish trip to Greece the show did for one of his character’s weddings. “Back when the show had money,” he said. Which really sticks with me at times like this, when they put up a few extra urns and some flowers in this existing living room set.

Anyway, Dimitri asks if Stefan wouldn’t mind making it a double wedding. EJ laughs this off, but Stefan pulls him aside…

…and somehow talks him into it. Because Stefan is the only level-headed person in this entire family. (Well, there’s Tony, but he disappears for months at a time and is nowhere to be seen for any of this.)

Even more astoundingly, he talks Gabi into it!

So the ceremony gets underway.

Then we come to the part that everyone in Salem dreads…

…and there’s a cute moment where both sets of couples ask why we would even include that part in a Salem wedding.

Then the episode ends with Leo speaking up at that part WHICH WE ALL KNOW IS GOING ABSOLUTELY NOWHERE. 

NOTHING IS HEATING UP HERE. THIS IS COLD AND BORING AND I KNOW YOU KNOW HOW TO DO THIS BETTER, DAYS.

It made me wish someone would kidnap Abe again just so someone could rescue him again. Because THAT was a fucking Friday cliffhanger.

#days of our lives #dool #peacock #soap opera

[saeyoungchoismaid]

Hanahaki Disease

Pairing: Asmo x gn!reader Genre: nsfw themes in the beginning, angst, fluff Warnings: listening in on others having sex and masturbating is briefly and vaguely mentioned in the beginning. Mentions of blood. choking, suffocating, ‘dying’ Summary: Many choose to forget their love. You don’t know if you have that option. Word Count: 5.8k  ObeyMAX day: July 10 - Asmo 

Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from unrequited love. Flowers begin to bloom in your lungs, feeding off of the tissue, and using your nutrients as its own. If your feelings aren’t returned, the flowers will continue to grow until they suffocate you. The only cure, besides having the love returned, is to remove the flowers from your lungs. However, if you go through with this procedure you will lose all memories of your love. Many choose to forget, you don’t think you want to make that choice. 

You clutch your pillow tightly as you listen to the moans and all other sorts of lewd noises leave Asmo’s room. You know it’s Asmo room for a multitude of reasons. One, the succubi has apparently never heard of using their indoor voice and is just saying Asmo’s name like a mantra. Two, your room is directly next to his room, per your secret request to Lucifer. You’re now regretting that request. 

Before you can even think of any more reasons, which there are plenty of, you hear the succubi scream in pleasure which means they are probably cumming for the third time. It’s quite annoying actually. Mostly because you’re hating yourself for getting turned on. On one hand, you're sick to your stomach and can’t stand to listen to them. 

On the other hand—well, that hand is currently shoved down your underwear. You can hear the way Asmo is moaning and grunting, his bed squeaking with each movement. Yeah, you’re pretending that your hand is him above you making those noises. It didn’t take long for you to start moaning softly, your body’s temperature growing as your pleasure does. 

Amazingly enough, you and Asmo cum at the same time. Well, you’re assuming so. His moans got higher pitched and louder before slowly drifting off. You pant and open your eyes to find your dark ceiling, the cold room starting to creep over you. 

Your eyes fill with tears as you go limp, your hand just resting inside of your pajamas as you cry. You eventually get out of bed to clean up, knowing you won’t be able to go to sleep feeling all sticky. This doesn’t stop you from crying. The longer you cry, the worst you feel. 

You’re in the shower when it first happens. You start to cough violently, your tears going from sad, self-loathing tears to lack of oxygen tears. You lean against the cool tile as you practically cough up a lung, your body shaking in fear. 

Something then falls past your lips and lands wetly on the floor of your shower. 

You don’t even notice it at first, too busy trying to regain air into your lungs. Did you cry so hard you puked? You look down to find that the water is trying to carry something pink to the drain. You blink a couple of times before rubbing at your eyes. Maybe your vision is just blurred? Is it blood?

Once you rid your eyes of the rest of your tears, you bend down to get a better look. You still aren’t completely sure what it is, so you gently pick whatever it is up. You unfold the wrinkled object and then realize it’s a petal. 

Your immediate reaction is to try to figure out what else it could be. A flower petal doesn’t make sense. Why in the world would it be a petal? Exactly. It wouldn’t. 

You finish up your shower quickly after that and swiftly get out, bringing your petal out of the shower with you. You set it onto the counter and then wrap a towel around your body, staring intently at the puny thing. 

Your next reaction is trying to figure out why you would’ve coughed up a petal. You tried reasoning with yourself. Maybe Mammon is pranking you again and put a petal into your food? But that wouldn’t explain you coughing it up. Maybe Lucifer used a spell to do this? But that doesn’t make sense either because he wouldn’t do something that would cause you harm. Maybe Solomon did a little magic? He doesn’t seem like the type to do something like this either though. 

You sigh and hang your head into your hands, trying to think of any reason as to why this happened. It just leads to you worrying more though. What if you cough up more? How will the guys react? Should you even tell them? 

You groan and decide to just deal with it in the morning. You do your after shower routine before going to bed, staring at your blank wall with a heavy frown on your face. It took awhile for you to fall asleep but you eventually managed to do it. Somehow. 

“Good morning, my handsome brothers and lovely (Y/n),” Asmo greets as he walks into the dining room for breakfast. You keep your head down as you roll your eyes, trying not to bring attention to yourself.

But, of course, just like every morning, Asmo swoops down to kiss your cheek before taking his seat beside you. You don’t reply like you normally do though. You just keep your head down and remain silent. Asmo would’ve noticed if it weren’t for his brothers chiming in. 

Satan noticed though. 

“Ugh, I hate how chipper you are,” Belphie groans from his seat. Levi snorts and smirks at Belphie before turning it towards Asmo. 

“He’s only so chipper because he got laid last night,” he says while chuckling. Mammon instantly gags and rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t remind me. They kept me up all night. I even debated on making a deal with a witch to get my hearing to stop working.” 

“That’s a great idea! Then, you wouldn’t hear us talk about you,” Asmo singsongs. They then start to bicker per usual. Being reminded of last night only makes you feel sicker. You nibble on your breakfast, feeling your appetite disappear with each word that leaves Asmo’s mouth. 

Suddenly, you start to cough just as harshly as you did last night. You quickly grab a napkin and cover your mouth, your eyes filling with tears as you hack away into the white cloth. Satan is quick to stand up and come behind you, ready to do the Heimlich maneuver when you raise your hand to stop him, your coughing slowly coming to a halt. 

You look down into your napkin to find another sopping petal, the sight of it adding weight to your already heavy shoulders. You quickly crumble the napkin up, not wanting anyone to see what lay inside. 

“(Y/n), are you okay?” Satan asks, placing his hand onto your shoulder. His question makes all the others abrupt with questions of their own. You wipe at your watery eyes as you nod your head, clearing your throat before speaking. 

“Yes, I’m fine. All of you calm down. My food just went down the wrong pipe. I’m alright,” you reassure with a warm, but fake, smile. Everyone relaxes at your words, making you relax as well since you weren’t caught. 

“I’m not very hungry anymore though. Beel, you can have my share,” you say sweetly, giving him a genuine smile as you slide your plate over to him. He always makes you feel all mushy and happy. It’s just who he is. 

He does that little chuckle of his in response as he happily takes your plate from you. “Thank you, (Y/n). I’m glad you’re okay,” he replies sweeter than candy. You ruffle his hair a bit before you look over at Lucifer. 

“Is it okay if I stay home today? I’m not feeling too well.” Well, it’s not a lie but it’s not for what they’re thinking. He instantly nods his head as he stands. 

“Yes, of course. That must’ve been a fright to choke like that. Do you want me to stay home with you? Do you need anything?” You smile at him now, feeling your chest swell a bit for how much he cares. 

“No, no. You have to go see Diavolo today for an important meeting. I’ll be fine. I just have a bit of a headache now,” you say as you gently pat his shoulder before waving to the brothers and making your departure. 

After school, there’s a knock on your door. You don’t feel like getting up from your moping party, so you just tell whoever it is to come in. You look over at the door to find Satan, a small frown on his face. 

“(Y/n), I…” he trails off, looking around your room instead of looking at you. You sit up at how serious he appears, fear starting to crawl inside your mind. 

“It’s okay. You can say whatever it is you have to say,” you say sweetly, sending him an even sweeter smile. He looks over at you and you can physically see his body relax at this. He slowly walks over to your bed and sits at the foot of it. 

“(Y/n), what’s really going on? While I was at school, I was thinking about this morning and I discovered something. You barely even touched your food after Asmo came in. You were staring down at your plate and picking at your food until you started choking. You didn’t choke on food, did you?” he says softly. 

You stare down at your blanket, mentally cursing Satan for how smart and observant he is. He caught on so quickly. Too quickly.

“No, I didn’t choke on food. If I told you the truth though…” you trail off just as he had done earlier. He decides to copy you as well. 

“It’s okay. You can say whatever it is you have to say,” he whispers, gently taking a hold of your hand. He then adds on, “You can trust me with anything. You know that, right?” You look up at him then, a dumb smile on your face. 

“It’s both a blessing and a curse to have you as a best friend,” you mumble, almost feeling like crying. He laughs and gives your hand a squeeze, nodding his head in agreement. 

“I agree. So, what’s going on?” 

You go quiet at his question, debating on telling him the truth or not. But, of course, he can also pretty much always tell when you’re lying. You decide to tell him everything, from taking the shower when it first happened to this morning. He listens intently and doesn’t interrupt, waiting to speak until you’re done speaking. 

“You have the Hanahaki Disease,” he replies like it’s obvious. Your brows furrow at this new information, trying to recall anything you’ve learned about this disease. You’ve never heard of it though.

At your obvious confusion, he starts to explain. “Basically, you’re in love with a certain someone and since they don’t return your love, to your knowledge, your lungs are growing flowers, or something. I’m not completely sure about all the details. I read a book on it forever and a half ago. I’d have to do more research on it.” 

You nod your head, relaxing and feeling yourself smile at having such a perfect best friend that will help you through this. Your smile fades though when you see his dark expression. “What aren’t you telling me?” you whisper. 

He stays silent for a moment before speaking in the softest voice you’ve ever heard from him. “As I said, I don’t know all of the details…” he trails off to gather his thoughts before continuing, “but, if I’m remembering correctly, it can be fatal. There is a cure though.” 

Your rising good mood suddenly plummets at this news. 

“Fatal?” you mumble, your throat constricting at the thought of dying because of your stupid crush on Asmo. That airhead is going to get you killed! And for what? 

You don’t realize you start crying until Satan starts wiping the tears off of your cheeks. “Shh, hey. Don’t cry. Why are you focusing on the bad? I said there’s a cure. I’ll leave and go do research on this. You’re not going to die, (Y/n),” he soothes, pulling you into a hug. You take a deep breath of his calming scent and nod your head, closing your eyes. 

“Okay. Thank you. You’re the best,” you mumble into his chest. Your face vibrates as his chest rumbles with his laugh. 

“You bet I am,” he replies playfully. 

It didn’t take long for him to come back with answers, several books crowded in his arms along with a frown. “Well, that can’t be good,” you say softly as you sit up on your bed, which is where you’ve been hiding out from everyone. 

“So, I was right. Hanahaki Disease can be fatal but there’s a cure. You’d have to get surgery to remove the flowers from your lungs or else you’ll suffocate to death.” Your brows furrow at this, seeing that he still looks apprehensive and maybe even angry? 

“What else? There’s something else. I can tell,” you say softly. 

“Well, you can get the flowers removed but if you do, you’ll forget about the person you love. You’ll have no memory of them,” he says softly. Your heart squeezes at the thought of not remembering Asmo. 

“So, I can’t do that.” 

“(Y/n)-”

“No, don’t ‘(Y/n)’ me. I’d rather die then forget A—him. He’s my love. I don’t…”

He sighs and walks over to your bed and sits down beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. Your head flops down onto his shoulder closest to you, a frown hanging heavy on your face as tears prick at your eyes. 

“You can just say it’s Asmo. Everyone knows,” he whispers softly to you, bringing his hand up to comfortingly rub your back. You turn your head to cry into his chest, your breathing starting to become labored. 

“Everyone except for him,” you sob, your whole body shaking. You cry for a while, holding Satan tightly as he holds you just as tight, if not tighter. Once you’ve cried your heart out, he speaks up again. 

“Why don’t you just confess to him? I think he likes you,” he says as he pulls away, using his thumbs to wipe at your cheeks. You shake your head and grab his wrists to pull his hands away from your face. 

“There’s no way I’m going to tell him. You know him. He brings someone home practically every other night and-” Your cut off by something forcing its way into your throat, causing you to cough and hack until you get the petal out. You spit it out into your hand, panting for air and letting your face cool back off. 

“(Y/n), I’m serious. Look at you. You’re coughing up multiple petals a day. If you keep this up, it’ll go from every couple of hours to every couple of minutes until you’re choking on them and not being able to breathe,” Satan says gravely, his own eyes starting to sting as he thinks about you dying in front of him without him being able to stop it. 

You smile softly at him and cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone. “Hey, calm down. We’ll figure something out, okay? I’m sitting with the smartest man in the Devildom,” you soothe, taking deep breaths with him to help him calm down. 

“(Y/n), I’ve already read a handful of books and they all say the same thing. Your love either has to reciprocate your love or you have to get the flowers removed from your lungs. There’s no other option. We don’t even know how long you have,” he pleads quietly, tears starting to leak from his eyes. 

You sigh and shake your head, bringing your other hand to run through his hair, just as he had done for you. “Hey, don’t cry, okay? I’ll talk to...him. Alright? I’ll do it for you,” you promise. This makes him relax before he pulls you into another hug. 

“Thank you, (Y/n),” he mumbles into your ear. 

Later that evening, you're laying in bed and trying to coerce yourself into falling asleep which isn’t playing out so well. All your mind can do is play out scenarios of your confession to Asmo. What if he laughs in your face? What if he shoots you down without hesitation? All you can think about is negative outcomes. You can’t even imagine him returning your feelings. 

But how could you? It’s obvious he’s not into you. Why would he be when he can have anyone he wants? 

Next, your brain liked to play out the scenario of you choking to death right in front of everyone without being able to do anything. Your eyes start to sting with the want of tears, your fears slowly starting to consume you. Before you can think better of it, you quickly jump out of bed and run out of your room. The cool air of the big house hits your bare legs as you run through the hall. 

You gasp for air as you reach his door, abruptly knocking on it as you lean against the wall next to it. He’s quick to open the door, looking at you with wide eyes. 

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong? Are you choking again?” Satan asks as he swiftly takes you into his arms. You shake your head as you start to cry into his chest, your whole body shaking violently. “Shh, it’s okay. I got you,” he reassures, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he pulls you into his room. He sits you down on his bed, squatting down in front of you once you’re settled. 

“Can I stay here?” you just barely whisper. You feel like a child who had a nightmare and is afraid of the shadows that lurk in the dark. Then again, that’s pretty much exactly what is happening. He instantly nods his head in agreement, smiling up at you as he soothingly rubs his hands through your hair when he stands up. 

“Of course. You don’t even have to ask,” he reassures. He then leaves the room for a moment before coming back with extra blankets and a pillow. Before he can walk past his own bed, you gently grab his wrist. 

“I, um—you should sleep on your bed. I’ll feel bad if I kick you out of it,” you whisper, slowly starting to calm down more. He smiles more at you and sets the pillow and blanket onto the bed. 

“Are you comfortable sharing then? Because I’m not letting you sleep anywhere else other than a bed,” he replies as he sits down beside you. You nod your head, sniffling and wiping your tired eyes. 

“Yeah. I was, um, actually wondering if we could…” you trail off, your throat constricting a bit. 

“Hey, c’mon. It’s me. You can speak freely with me,” he whispers, rubbing your back. You take a deep breath, nodding your head as you work up the confidence to ask him. 

“Can we cuddle? I just...I’ve never done it before, and it would make me feel better that you’d be able to feel the signs if I started choking,” you reply in the softest tone possible, staring down at your lap. You look up at him though when he starts to chuckle. 

“You’re too pure for this world. Of course, I don’t mind,” he promises, standing up to pull back the covers. He lets you crawl in first and get comfortable before tucking you in on your side of the bed. He then goes around to the other side of the bed and crawls in, making sure to be respectful of your boundaries and to let you come to him. Once he pulls the covers up his body, you slowly sidle over to him and tuck yourself into his side. 

Having your best friend here supporting you like this is so reassuring that you can’t find the words to thank him even if you tried. 

“Thank you,” you say simply, wishing you could say more. You can hear the smile in his voice when he replies. 

“Don’t mention it,” he whispers back before you both fall into a comfortable silence and eventually drift off to sleep. 

The only way to describe the next morning is pure chaos. Apparently, one of the brothers saw you two embracing in front of Satan’s room before he pulled you inside. 

They, of course, all assumed the worst. 

“What did you do to our innocent (Y/n)?” 

“Do I need to get my knife?” 

“Yeah, what did you—wait, Belphie. You have a knife?” 

“Satan, unless you two are dating, this is highly inappropriate.” 

And it just kept going. Asmo, for once though, is deadly silent. He wouldn’t even look at you two and just ate his breakfast. He didn’t give you your daily morning peck on the cheek either. 

Starting to get annoyed, you huff and roll your eyes before shouting over them. “Can you hooligans shut up for ten seconds and let me explain?” Successfully grabbing their attention, you continue. “I just had a nightmare and went to his room for comfort. Nothing happened, you pervs,” you explain in deadpan. 

You watch them all physically relax. Except for Asmo. He still seems wound up tight and ready to snap or break in half at any second. 

“Oh, thank god.” 

“Belphie, put your knife away.” 

“I shouldn’t have assumed the worst and jumped to conclusions. I apologize.” 

“Are you okay, (Y/n)? Was it a scary nightmare?” Beel asks, giving you some of his breakfast as an apology. This man is too pure to be a demon. You honestly feel terrible lying to all of them, especially him. Then again, it was basically a nightmare come true. 

“I’m fine, Beel. It was...actually terrifying but Satan helped calm me down,” you reassure the sweet man. He smiles softly at you and pours you some juice before you can do it yourself. 

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). That must’ve been awful,” Belphie says next to Beel. 

“And here we were throwing accusations at you two. I, once again, apologize,” Lucifer speaks up, bowing his head as he apologizes. 

You smile at them all and shake your head, moving your hands back and forth in front of you. “No, no. It’s okay, really. I understand why you all had your suspicions. I’m sure it did look bad.” You take this chance to look at Asmo who is still staring down at his breakfast as he slowly scoops food up to his mouth. 

You’ll have to ask him about it later. 

All the brothers, minus Asmo and Satan, continue to apologize though until breakfast is halfway over. Then, after that, you all finally relax and talk as you normally do. You’re glad because you didn’t know how many more apologies you could take. 

You’re walking towards your room after school when you hear Asmo yelling at someone. You pause by his door, not meaning to eavesdrop but you can’t help but to be curious. You jump out of your skin when the door flies open and out walks a succubus. They give you a dirty look as they leave, fully clothed and furious. 

You watch them for a moment before looking inside the room to see that Asmo is standing at the door, a deathly grip on his door knob. You clear your throat and give him a small smile. “Hey, I wanted to ask how you’re doing. You seemed a little tense at breakfast and…” you trail off, looking down the hallway to where the succubus just disappeared as they turn, “plus, that whole situation just happened so—”

“How about you mind your own business and leave me alone?” he snaps, cutting you off. Your head whips back to him, your jaw dropping as you stare at him. Did he really just say that? Maybe a side effect of the Hanahaki Disease is hallucinations? 

“What—”

“What are you, deaf? I said mind your own business! You’re always so nosey! What? Whoring around with Satan isn’t enough? Do you want to—” He stops in his tracks when your eyes start to fill with tears, his throat closing in on itself. Why is he yelling at you? You did nothing wrong. You didn’t spend the night with Satan because you wanted to sleep with him or something. 

He still has a chance. 

Before he can apologize though, you start to cough. He waits for you to stop so he can say how sorry he is but you just keep going. Suddenly, your coughing stops and there’s no sound escaping you. But why do you still look like you’re choking? 

“(Y/n)? What’s wrong?” he asks quickly, not sure as to what’s happening. Are you pranking him? 

Your face fills with color, becoming too dark for his liking. “Help! Someone help! Something’s happening with (Y/n)!” he screams at the top of his lungs as he wraps his arms around you. His touch sends the petal flying from your mouth and you get clarity for a moment before you start coughing again. 

He helps you to lay on the ground, seeing that your legs are shaking and going weak. Your eyes leak fat tears as you stare up at him, not being able to stop what’s happening. You should’ve just told him how you feel and tried to get him to fall in love with you. You barely got any time to even decide what to do though. How unfair is that? Maybe it’s because he yelled at you and you thought for a moment that he hates you. 

Satan is there within a few seconds, his eyes widening when he sees you choking. He knows how to do the heimlich maneuver, cpr, and anything else you could imagine but none of that will help you. He knows that but he feels his hands itch by his side to do something as he kneels next to you. 

“Why are you just staring at them? Do something!” Asmo screams, fearful tears welling up in his eyes. You continue to cough below them and spit out petal after petal, the petals growing in size with each one that leaves. 

“I’m sorry, (Y/n),” Satan whispers, holding your hand in his and giving squeezes to help soothe you. He hopes it’s soothing anyway. 

Asmo is beyond furious and devastated as he screams at his brother. “Why are you apologizing? Just help them!”  Tears fall down his face and land on yours, calming your coughing with each tear. Satan takes notice of this and wipes at his eyes to get a better look at you. 

“They love you! That’s why this is happening!” Satan shouts, seeing his other brothers race down the hallway towards all the commotion. When they arrive though, your airway is blocked once more and your face starts to grow dark. Asmo looks away from you to Satan, not understanding what he’s talking about. 

“What are you talking about?” he speaks his thought, his hands shaking as he pulls you onto his lap. They watch your eyes roll back into your head, your body slowly starting to grow still. 

“I’ll explain later! They’re in love with you and you don’t return their feelings! You—”

“I do! (Y/n), I love you! I promise I do! Ever since you got here, I’ve been head over heels for you!” Asmo sobs, his chest aching with the raw feeling. He’s never admitted it before. He always just told himself it was lust, not the other L word. 

They all look down to you, expecting you to breathe and wake right up with a bright smile. But you laid in Asmo’s arms completely still. Satan’s fingers go to your neck, his entire body feeling numb. “They have no pulse!” he panics, going up onto his knees to stare down at you. 

You’re supposed to be okay! Asmo confessed his love for you and you’re supposed to be healed! So why aren’t you breathing? Was he too late? Asmo starts to sob, already assuming the worst. Satan keeps staring at you, trying to find a loophole or an unknown answer. His other brothers stand around them and silently cry, not really sure what’s going on but knowing by your still body that it’s not good. 

Satan then sees the pink flowers deep in your throat, a gasping flying out of him as his hand goes to your mouth. Everyone watches as he shoves his hand into your mouth before struggling to grab something. He grabs the flower and retches it from your mouth, staring in awe and disgust as he pulls the flower free from your throat. An entire flower connected to a stem comes from you, your chest tugging a bit when Satan reaches a certain point. He yanks harder and the flower suddenly comes free, revealing roots that were stuck inside of your lungs. 

“Kiss them,” Satan whispers, hand dropping the flower by your body. The flower is covered in blood and spit, soaking the floor as soon as he drops it. Asmo doesn’t hesitate to kiss you, wanting you to live so he can do all the things he’s been dying to do. 

He places a delicate kiss onto your lips, the biggest weight imaginable leaving his shoulders as he finally gets to kiss you. He just wishes it was under different circumstances and that you could actually return it. Your lips felt cold against his but he could care less. Tears are still streaming down his face and landing on yours, sliding down your cheeks towards your hairline. 

His eyes snap open when your lips just barely move against his. He would love nothing more than to keep kissing you but that small movement had him pulling back. You gasp for air, your red eyes flying open. You cough and make them all panic that it didn’t work. But then your coughing stops and you’re just laying there and staring up at the ceiling while you get air into your desperate lungs. 

Your eyes then move to your love, new tears filling your eyes. Asmo thinks maybe you’re upset with him and that’s why you’re crying. It makes sense to him. You almost died because of him. 

“This is the happiest moment of my life,” you whisper hoarsely. Everyone immediately relaxes and even glares at you a bit for scaring them and then saying such a thing.  

“You’re such an idiot,” Satan cries, pulling you out of Asmo’s hold and into his own. You weakly return the hug, chuckling quietly to yourself. 

“But I’m your guys’ idiot,” you mumble, growing tired as soon as you get all the air back into your lungs and your heart has calmed down. 

“You should rest. I’ll explain to everyone what happened,” he says as he pulls away, looking to Asmo. He’s assuming that he would want to help you now that you two are an item. Well, he assumes you are. 

“I’ll help them. You can inform me later,” he says softly, gently taking you back into his hold. He brushes your hair out of your face, the softest look imaginable gracing his features. You smile tiredly up at him, leaning into his warmth. 

He then helps you up and starts to lead you to your room. “Can we go to your room?” you whisper weakly, feeling him instantly go back towards where you were laying. 

“Of course, my love,” he reassures, leading you to his open door. You look to Satan who picks up the wet flower with his already dirtied hand. 

“Wait,” you call out. It wasn’t as loud as you hoped but it still got all of their attention. “Can I keep it?” you ask. They all stare at you as if you grew a second head. You just keep your focus on Satan though who is studying you silently from the floor. 

“Yeah, of course. I don’t really know why you’d want it though…” he reassures as he gets off of the ground. You smile and lean into Asmo’s side, your eyes tracing the flower. 

“It’ll be a reminder that our love prevailed,” you say softly, warming all of their hearts up. Satan smiles at this and nods, sending you a thumbs up with his free hand. 

“I’ll clean it off for you and leave it in your room,” he reassures. You thank him before letting Asmo lead you inside and close the door behind him. 

“Do you want a bath?” he asks, leading you to the bed to let you sit down. You think about it for a moment, looking down at your body. You could use one, since your shirt has your spit and little drops of blood on it but you don’t want him to see you naked for the first time like this. 

You shake your head and weakly point at his closet. “No, I’m okay. Can I just borrow one of your shirts?” you ask unsurely. He instantly smiles and nods as he makes his way to his closet. 

“But, of course! I just know you’ll look perfect in my clothes!” he says cheerfully, starting to act more like his usual self. He pulls out a sweater and a pair of his boxers for you to wear. Lucky for you, you’re just in your uniform. You can easily get another school shirt to replace the ruined one. 

He walks back over to you and hands you the clothes, sharing a loving smile with you before walking back to his closet to get himself clothes. He keeps his back to you when he hears something drop to the floor, knowing it’s your clothes. 

“Can you...help me? It’s hard to lift my arms,” you say softly, a dark blush spreading across your cheeks. He turns to see you in his boxers and still in your bloody shirt, your bottoms on his floor. He shines a smile at you as he walks over to you once more, ready to assist you. 

“I’ll do everything I can to help,” he promises. He goes behind you and places his hands on your waist, silently asking if he can take your shirt off. You nod your head, letting him remove it for you. He keeps his eyes to the back of your head, knowing now isn’t the time to thirst over your body. 

He helps you pull the sweater over your head and get your arms through, kissing the side of your head when he’s done. “Sorry. It’s just hard to—”

“You don’t have to apologize. All of this is my fault anyway,” he reassures, standing up from the bed to get changed out of his uniform. He hears you lay down, turning to see that you’re giving him the same privacy that he gave you. You’re so precious. 

He quickly changes into something comfortable before swiftly going back to the bed, pulling his satin sheets and smooth covers over your delicate body before sliding in behind you. He then snuggles into your back, inhaling your scent as he closes his eyes. 

“It’s not your fault, you know,” you whisper, your voice the only sound in the quiet room. His brows furrow as he opens his eyes back up to look at the back of your head. 

“What? How can it not be my fault?” he asks confusedly.

“I’m the one who kept it to myself and didn’t tell you,” you mumble. He sighs and tightens his grip on you a bit. 

“Hey, don’t stress over it now. It’s all over. You’re mine and laying in my arms. I…” he trails off for a moment, steeling his resolve before saying the three words, “I love you.” He pushes his face into your hair as you reply. 

“I love you more,” you promise. 

┍━━━━━━━✿━━━━━━━┑ MASTERLISTS

More with Asmo 

Tag List: @mexicanmagick, @animefreak-247, @jungialo, @fanfictwarrior, @ohbbobeyme, @zeldan7, @niphredil-14, @gamelovers-posts, @virtualmemmecollector, @collarjessie, @officialdevorak, @katelynwithpaint, @buzzybeebee​ ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask :)

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#obey me x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me x reader fluff #obey me x reader angst #asmo x reader #obey me imagine #asmodeus x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me fluff #obey me angst #asmo fluff #asmodeus fluff #asmo angst #asmodeus angst #asmo x mc #asmodeus x mc #obey me x mc #obey me scenario #asmo imagine #asmodeus imagine #asmo scenario #asmodeus scenario #hanahaki au

[lazywonderlvnd]

*hesitantly steps in the box* Umm.. soo.. I was listening to Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift again and that song (is awesome btw if you haven't listened to it already) just gives me such MAJOR drarry vibes .. like -

" And I screamed, 'for whatever it's worth I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?' He looks up grinning like a devil. "

Like if that's not drarry I'd chomp my pillows. So .. *twiddling thumbs* could you pls write something with that line as a prompt?? Pretty please 🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️ maybe use the song as inspiration.. idk? Whatever you like. ALSO, don't forget I STILL LOVE YOU that ain't changing yet and you haven't seen the last of me! Imma tail after you for eternity and you better take that as the threat it is! *throws love at you* BYE!! ❤️❤️ *vaults outside the box*

my sweetest most loved angel!! thank u so much for this prompt based on a BOP i was obsessed w when the album first came out. it got sm longer than it was meant to be, so it can be found on ao3 as well!! i hope u like it ilysm ❤️❤️❤️❤️

warnings for minor drug use (weed) and implied suicide of a minor character (lucius, extremely vague reference but pls be aware!)

rating: e word count: ~5k

When Pansy asked him how it started, Draco discovered that he didn’t know what to tell her.

Technically, though, it had started at Ernie Macmillan’s party in the beginning of summer, with the cloying scent of Freesias and Freedom Roses (“Imported from the States,” Ernie told Draco pompously, when he asked) and all those string-lights dangling from the cedar pergola, perennial balls of fire inside their clear bubbles like tiny trapped suns. Cheap beer in plastic cups, Marlboro cigarettes, and some stupid Muggle game ... darts.

Technically.  

* * * 

“Get off me, Potter,” Draco says in a failed whisper. He’s laughing and drunk and fuzzy warm under a sprawling summer’s night sky that looks like black paint. Potter tastes like Guinness every time he kisses him, and his hands are surprisingly soft. In direct opposition to his own command he pulls Potter in by the face and glues their mouths back together ravenously. The alcohol makes him sloppy (he likes it, though — the sloppiness of it) and Potter’s skin is warm where Draco slides his hand under an ugly Muggle band T-shirt to touch. 

Around the corner, he can hear music coming from the patio where nearly every single one of their former classmates are gathered, drinking and laughing and getting along famously with a much-needed buffer of five years between them and their Hogwarts days.

Much-needed for himself and Potter as well. Apparently.

He sees him sometimes, at get-togethers like this or around the Ministry, once or twice at a dinner party thrown by a mutual friend. They’re always cordial. He hasn’t insulted Potter to his face in five years.

Except for tonight, when he couldn’t help himself loudly drawing attention to the similarities between Potter’s hair and one of the shrubs in the garden. But they’re kissing now round the side of the house and because of that he’s quite glad for his slip. And it’s their five-year reunion, so. What would it be without some bickering between the two of them?

Potter presses him into the bricks and snogs him breathless, only he keeps grinning and laughing and ruining everything just when Draco starts losing himself in it.

“Quit laughing,” he scolds him. “You’re the worst, Potter. No etiquette at all.”

“That’s rude,” Potter says. His breath wafts across Draco’s mouth. His eyes are excessively green behind their round frames, which have not changed since their school days. The scar is mostly hidden beneath his wild fringe, save for the very bottom where it slashes neatly through a dark eyebrow and touches his eyelid. “I can’t help it, I’m pissed good and proper.”

His hand moves to Draco’s hip and even through the thickness of the alcohol coating his brain like a muffler he feels that touch clear and ripe as daybreak.

“So  that’s  why you’ve decided to snog me rather than …” He waves a hand vaguely, in lieu of the proper witticism with which he might normally have trounced Potter. “You know. Beat me to a pulp.”

“I only did that one time,” Potter says, grinning. Grinning and moving his thumb in circles on Draco’s hip. “And it was because you were being a twat. And I didn’t beat you to a pulp. You’re so dramatic.”

“Semantics,” Draco says. “I had a bloody nose.”

“And you deserved it.”

“Now who’s being rude?”

Potter kisses him again.

Guinness and Freesias.

* * * 

“Macmillan’s party,” he told Pansy. “He kissed me.”

“So that’s where you disappeared to.” She looked smug. Her inch-long nails were sharpened to a point and painted a glossy black, and she drummed them against her cheek, the way a cat flicks its tail. “I’m surprised you kept it from me this whole time.”

“Well,” said Draco, lowering his gaze to his glass of wine and watching it flirt dangerously with the lip as he swirled it. His cheeks felt warm, but he wasn’t embarrassed. “We snuck around.”

Right, maybe a little embarrassed. Mostly conflicted.

“Oh?” For a single syllable the laughter underneath was remarkably transparent.

He looked up, eyebrows lifted. “Yes,” he said a little defensively. “For obvious reasons. At first it was just sex. A lot of it, so he usually came here. Apparently Granger and the Weasel are notorious for popping round his place unexpectedly.”

* * *

He feels opened up all over again every time Potter fucks into him, unhurried and so careful. His hand is hot on Draco’s thigh, both of them sticky with sweat and come. This has to be their third round at least, and Draco’s sluggish brain insists it might actually be four.

An open window lets in the late afternoon air, humid and drowsy and perfumed heavily with flowers (a la Macmillan, Draco planted Freesias and Freedom Roses outside his bedroom window and helped them along to full bloom with some careful magic). Potter’s hair is damp with sweat — from exertion and the relentless heat of July — and Draco slides his fingers into it, tangles them and pulls the way he’s learned Potter likes. If he’s honest, he’s harboured a very secret and  very  desperate yearning to touch Potter’s hair since he was quite young. He doesn’t know why.

Well, maybe he knows why.

Potter makes a quiet, whimpered noise that curls Draco’s toes. He speeds up his hips, closing in on his orgasm and putting his face in Draco’s neck even though it’s too fucking hot for it.

“Fuck,” Draco whines. He tries to lift his leg higher, wrap it around Potter’s waist to get that perfect angle, but they’re too slick with sweat and he lets out a frustrated noise when it falls back to the bed. “Potter,” he says helplessly, arching into each thrust and shaking with the effort. This third (fourth?) orgasm is building too slowly, sitting there hard and stubborn and heavy in his gut and refusing to be coaxed to completion. He’s dripping with the effort, muscles quivering. “Please — I need —”

But he seems to have figured it out for himself. He scoots forward, lifting Draco’s arse higher off the bed and bending him nearly in half. The angle helps him go deeper and he’s suddenly nudging Draco’s oversensitive prostate every time he fucks back in.

“Right there,” Draco gasps, tensing as this new angle lights a fire under his elusive orgasm. His cock is leaking but he doesn’t have the strength or energy to get a hand around it. Potter’s grunting with the effort of fucking him, sweat dripping down his temples and making his neck and torso gleam. “Right there, god, right there, please, I’m so close —”

Potter braces himself and redoubles his efforts, and it’s like he’s reached inside Draco and sunk his claws into that building storm in his belly because suddenly it’s ripped right out of him in a colossal wave of euphoria that approaches too much, cock spurting untouched between them  .  Potter keeps moving inside him while he rides it out, and at some point he feels the warm, wet explosion of Potter emptying in him, mumbling incoherent things that include Draco’s name.

They come down together too. Draco is clutching Potter’s arms and trying to catch his breath and Potter is trembling and clutching him back like an anchor in a veritable ocean of sensation. 

It’s like this every time. 

When Potter drops down onto the bed beside him Draco rolls over and kisses him, long and deep and satisfying, and Potter reciprocates with the kind of intensity that is completely unique to him as a person.

“That one was particularly good,” says Potter, and Draco laughs.

When he feels like moving, he knows that Potter will get up and go to Draco’s kitchen and make tea for both of them, and he won’t need to ask what Draco likes, because he remembered after the first time. They’ll drink it naked in bed as the sun sets on another endless summer day and transforms before their eyes into a humid and pungent summer night, in the midst of which they will fuck at least three more times, and Potter will keep smelling like sweat and bergamot and boy, and Draco will keep feeling starved for him.

And they won’t talk about it.

* * *

“And?” Pansy said.

“And what?”

“You said ‘at first,’” she pointed out, and arched a groomed eyebrow. “When did it turn into more than just sex?”

Draco tamped down on a smile, because that would have been more emotion than he cared to show at the moment. To Pansy or to himself.

He swirled his wine again and took a long sip, stalling. He wanted — needed, really — to talk this out with her, but he was becoming aware of an uncomfortable heaviness in his chest which was suggesting to him that he didn’t want to share everything. Not because he was embarrassed, but, well … it was private. It was between him and Harry.

“There was this one night he came over later than he was supposed to because of work,” Draco said. The memory stirred some emotion. He hadn’t thought of it in a while. “He had this bloody huge takeout bag of Thai food.”

 * * *

He sets it down on Draco’s desk, takes out a container, and after toeing off his shoes drops sideways onto Draco’s bed with it and uses chopsticks to shovel in a mouthful of noodles. Draco watches this in awe.

“Want some?” Harry asks once he’s swallowed (small blessings). There’s grease around his mouth. “There’s a million other things in the bag but you have to get it yourself. I’m dead tired.”

Draco thinks of asking what the hell is going on, because they’re supposed to be fucking by now, but something stops him. Harry really does look exhausted but quite content eating his Thai food on Draco’s bed, and he doesn’t have the heart to berate him for it or remind him that they’re fuck buddies, not friends, and that if he’d wanted to eat and lounge about perhaps he should’ve stayed at home.

And the food really does smell good.

He gets up and fishes another container out of the bag that turns out to be some sort of heavenly-smelling marinated beef, which he brings back to the bed. Harry’s rolled onto his back and has the container of noodles balanced on his stomach.

“They thought they found a Horcrux on a raid,” he says. His voice is perfectly casual, but Draco thinks he can see something troubled in his eyes. He has one foot crossed over the other and  it’s bouncing anxiously; he doesn’t think Harry’s aware of doing it. “Wasn’t. Obviously.” 

“But they needed your expert advice to be sure.”

“Yeah.” Harry looks at him, then his food. “Is that the beef?”

“Yes it is.”

“Good?”

“Haven’t tried it yet.”

He opens the container and chooses a piece, but instead of lifting it to his mouth he follows some crazy impulse and hovers it over Harry’s instead.

“Open, Scarhead,” he says. Harry blinks but does it, and Draco drops it in. He smiles, then chews.

“Brilliant.”

* * *

“We ate it instead of fucking. It was the first time I realised something had shifted.”

“And you let it shift?”

The question gave him pause. He didn’t answer right away, mulling it over. It made it sound as if he’d had a choice, and that wasn’t quite right.

“It already had,” he said finally. “It wasn’t a matter of letting it; by the time I noticed, it had already happened. Otherwise he wouldn’t have come over with the food.”

“But you did let it continue,” said Pansy. She wasn’t antagonising him, nor accusing him of anything. She looked amused, but not in a way that was at his expense. Pansy was both a twat and a fiercely good friend, the combination of which meant she would do nothing more or less than hold up a mirror and force you to look at yourself, gruesome as the experience inevitably wound up being. “Even after you realised he had feelings for you.”

Draco swallowed. He’d not heard it said aloud before now.

“Yes,” he said. “It felt good. Knowing he fancied me.”

* * *

Harry’s shameless in his staring.

He stands in the doorway of the ensuite bathroom and watches Draco like he’s been invited to do so. Draco pretends not to notice, stretched out in a tub full of bubbles facing the opposite way. There’s incense burning, and candles. Harry is completely silent, but Draco could feel those eyes on him from across a crowded hall.

They fucked a few hours ago and fell asleep afterwards. Draco pretended not to think about it, but had actually made the conscious decision to let Harry continue sleeping when he woke up and decided he wanted a bath.

When he can’t take it anymore he opens his eyes and tilts his head back and a little to the side, just enough that he gets Potter in his peripherals.

“Well?” he says. 

“Well what?”

“Join me, won’t you?”

Harry snorts. Then there’s a quiver of magic in the air, and a small, utilitarian chair appears out of thin air beside the tub. Harry sits down in it. He’s holding the joint they’d only gotten halfway through earlier. 

He’s in his jeans and nothing else, all limbs and sparse chest hair, and when he crosses a leg over the other one, elbow resting on his knee as he hits the joint, Draco feels a bone-deep attraction to him that’s beyond physical.

“May I?” Draco asks. Harry hands it over and Draco inhales deeply before returning it. The humidity of the room mixes with the smoke and the smell of marijuana, pungent and cloying like the flowers. 

After a length of silence, Draco says, “Will you read me something?”

“Will I what?”

He takes his wand from the floor and Summons a book from the shelf in his room — one of his poetry collections comes sweeping in through the cracked door and into Harry’s lap. Harry sticks the joint between his lips and starts rifling through it with his glasses all fogged up. 

When he starts reading Byron (“I had a dream, which was not all a dream”) Draco smiles and sinks deeper into the hot water and bubbles, letting Harry’s voice lull him into a pleasant stupor. 

 * * *

“So you led him on,” said Pansy. “Because you liked his attention.”

He stared at her, then let his gaze drop to his wine again. Had he?

“It sounds bad when you say it like that.”

“Well,” she said, smiling wryly, “I’m only saying it as you’ve told it to me. Maybe if it sounds bad, it is bad. Some things are that simple, darling. Unless there’s more to it.”

“Like what?” he said, not looking at her. There was a touch of pouty defiance in his voice he knew Pansy would detect instantly. He heard her sigh.

“What exactly happened yesterday, Draco? You didn’t give me any context.”

“What context do you need?” he muttered. “He told me he loved me.”

* * *

They’ve finished an entire bottle of wine between them. He’s not drunk, but he’s pleasantly buzzed. Harry’s sprawled on his back, T-shirt rucked up just below his navel so Draco can see the dark trail of hair leading below his jeans. There’s something implicitly erotic about the movement of his chest when he breathes, his hands folded behind his head, one leg stretched the length of the bed and the other bent at the knee.

He opens his eyes suddenly and grins when he sees Draco looking at him. 

“That wine just made me tired,” he says.

“So go to sleep,” says Draco. He takes a last swig, emptying it, and sets the bottle aside on his night table. He stretches his arms over his head and arches his back, yawning widely, thinking perhaps he’ll give into the tempting allure of sleep as well when Harry says, “I told Hermione about us.”

So he’s not sleeping, then. His stomach clenches hard and a completely irrational sense of panic rises in his throat.

“Us?” he says slowly, sitting up straighter. “What ‘us’?”

Harry looks at him upside-down, then rolls over and rises to his knees. He stares at Draco blankly.

“‘What us?’” he repeats.

“Yes,” says Draco. “What ‘us’?”

“Us,” Harry says. His voice is lower than usual. The word is starting to sound weird and lose meaning. “You and me, Draco.”

“‘You and me?’ Harry, there’s no you and me. We’re just fucking. What do you … what do you mean, you told Granger? Told her what?”

Harry looks … well, he looks fucking crushed. And angry. Draco forces himself not to look away.

“I told her I’d been seeing you,” he says quietly. There’s something … not threatening, but close to it, in his voice.

“Sure,” says Draco. “I see you three times a week, sometimes four. I s’pose if you feel the need to fill Granger in on everything you do with every second of your day —”

“Shut up, Draco,” Harry says. “You know what I meant.”

Draco glares at him. He gets off the bed, slightly lightheaded from the wine, horrified by the emotions welling up inside him right behind the panic, and he points at his bedroom door.

“Get out,” he says. 

“Are you serious?”

“Go!” he says loudly, voice rising. “If you’re gonna start turning this into something it definitely is not then get out of my flat, Potter.” As usual the window is open, but it’s the third of September and getting chilly finally and Draco’s Freesias and Freedom Roses started wilting last week. There’s a chilly breeze coming into that room that is utterly barren of the sweet smells of summer he associates with Harry these days. “It’s time we ended this anyway,” he says. “Summer’s over.”

“So?” From his position kneeling on Draco’s bed Harry shouldn’t feel imposing at all, but he does. There’s no sparkle of humour in his eyes, none of the softness Draco’s gotten used to seeing there. He looks like someone who’s realised they’ve been betrayed.

Worse than that. Someone who’s been betrayed and realises they should have seen it coming.

“What the fuck does summer have to do with anything?”

“Ever heard of a summer fling, Potter? We’re not ‘seeing each other’.”

Harry finally gets off the bed. Draco’s stomach clenches again, more painfully this time. He doesn’t feel bad, he tells himself — this is Harry’s fault. His fault for making a big deal out of something easy and fun and, most of all, temporary. For ruining this with feelings. 

 “That’s not what this was,” Harry says. It’s not an argumentative tone; rather, he sounds disappointed. Devastated, and disappointed. And that look of betrayal, like he’s surprised but not …  that  surprised.

That hurts. 

“This was as real as it gets, Draco,” he says matter-of-factly. “You and I don’t have the capability of doing anything as shallow as a fling.”

“Well, Potter,” says Draco, straining to maintain his level voice, “congratulations, because that is the most disgusting, romanticised, Gryffindorian piece of shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah?” He grabs up his wand from the bedside table and stuffs it into his jeans pocket. “Well here’s another: I love you. You complete fucking prick.”

Draco stares after him as he leaves the room, cowed for the moment. He hears Harry take the Floo powder off his mantle, hears the fire start, and then the sound of Potter disappearing. 

And he feels hollow suddenly.

* * *

“And he said it completely out of the blue?” 

Draco set his wine aside. He was suddenly feeling too sick to put anything else in his body.

“Sort of,” he said quietly, avoiding her eyes. “He was trying to make something out of nothing. He was just making a point, trying to guilt me, I don’t even think he meant it.”

Pansy said nothing for so long that Draco finally looked up. She had an eyebrow raised.

“Do you really believe that?” she said.

Draco didn’t answer right away. He glanced at the bottle of wine on the table and thought about the way it always tasted a little sweeter on Harry’s lips.

“I don’t know,” he said. “No. But it doesn’t change anything. It was a summer thing, not a … a relationship, for crying out loud. Like I’d date Potter.”

“Why not?”

Draco scoffed. “Why not? Pansy, please. He’s a …”

“A …?”

“He’s an idiot! He’s Potter!  He’s …” He couldn’t think of the right word, something bad enough to express the audacity, the gall , for Potter to think even for a second  that they could …

“Draco Malfoy,” said Pansy. She was smirking. “You love him too.”

Had he felt sick before?  Now he was going to be sick.

“I never would’ve imagined it,” she went on, seeming to take pleasure from his outrage and humiliation. The bint. “Look at you, you’re blushing! Oh my god,” she laughed. And then she stopped laughing, and instead the weight of her own words appeared to descend on her. “Oh my god. You do, don’t you? You are arse over tits for Harry Potter —”

He was up and out of his chair before she’d finished the last word, absurdly,  embarrassingly on the verge of tears all of a sudden. 

“Draco —”

“I’m glad this can serve as your entertainment for the week, Pansy,” he said. A tear rolled down his cheek — could he be any more histrionic? — and he brushed it away furiously. 

“Draco, no —”

“Call Blaise, tell him!” he shouted. “You two can have a good laugh over it —”

“Draco  —”

“Poor Draco’s  fucked himself over again, what a stupid wanker!” 

Pansy got up. He slapped her hand away when she reached for him, but she only came at him again and grabbed it this time when he swatted at her, enfolding it in both of hers. He closed his eyes and hiccoughed and two more tears came.

“Darling, will you please listen to me?” she said softly. It sounded eerily like his mother, which only made him feel young and childish. He tugged his arm away and she let him go, but he didn’t move any farther away. “I am  not  laughing at you,” she told him. “Blaise might, but that’s because Blaise has a black hole for a heart, Draco, the only emotion he’s ever felt is disdain.” Against his will, Draco chuckled wetly. Pansy smiled and took his hand again, tentatively. He allowed it. “ I think it’s lovely that you have feelings for him. I don’t understand what’s got you so upset, I mean … I know it’s Potter, but we’re not teenagers anymore, right? Who cares?”

Draco exhaled a long sigh.

“He let my father go to Azkaban,” he said softly, looking into her eyes. He saw comprehension dawning. “How can I be with someone who could’ve saved my father’s life and chose not to, Pansy?”

“No one could have saved your father, Draco,” said Pansy gravely. His throat was tight, swollen. He hated that he was hanging on her words, looking for truth in them,  wanting to hear something that would make this okay. “He would have done the same thing if they’d let him go back to the manor. It’s not your fault or your mum’s or Potter’s.”

“But —”

“But what?” she cut him off sharply. “Draco, please don’t let your father keep controlling your life from the grave! My god, you deserve happiness, don’t you see that? Even if it’s Potter! In fact, I … I think that could be really good.”

“What, being with Potter?”

“Yes, being with Potter,” she said. “Darling, I say this because I love you: you need to grow a pair of bollocks and start taking control of your own life. I’m not finished!” she added when he opened his mouth to retort. “I understand that it feels like a betrayal of your father, I do, and I’m not saying you can’t have your cherished memories of him, but Draco … you cannot live your life in his shadow, doing things because it’s what he’d want or wouldn’t want. I think that choosing to explore these feelings you have for Potter is the bravest and healthiest thing you could possibly do for yourself.”

He stared at her for a long moment, eyes wet though the tears had stopped falling. 

“What if it doesn’t last?” he said finally. “What if next week he realises it was a huge mistake?”

“First of all, I doubt that,” said Pansy with a roll of her eyes that was clearly meant to be teasing. “You said you’ve been seeing him all summer, that’s plenty of time to have gotten sick of you. And, even if that did happen, I still think it would be entirely worth that week of being disgustingly in love.”

“Do you?” he drawled.

“Yes! I do!” She picked up his discarded wine glass from before and held it up. “Does the effect of alcohol last forever?”

“No …”

“Of course not! And we don’t expect it to. We expect to have fun while we’re drunk and it’ll last as long as it lasts.”

“Dating someone isn’t like being drunk, Pansy,” Draco said sourly.

“Oh, that’s not the point ,” she huffed. “We don’t do things because we know they’ll last forever, we do them because we want to. In the moment.”

“Sounds irresponsible.”

“Well, of course it is,” she scoffed. “Love is completely irresponsible, that’s the fun of it, Draco. Now take this,” she shoved the glass of wine into his hand, almost spilling it. “Drink up, and then get your arse over to his flat and fix this.”

* * *

Granger opened the door. Draco sighed.

“Hello, Granger,” he said lamely. Her raised eyebrows said she was surprised and thoroughly unimpressed by his appearance.

“Malfoy,” she said.

“Is Potter in?”

“I guess that depends.”

“On?”

She looked at him, dark brown eyes impenetrable. Then she closed the front door behind her.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“To talk to him,” he said tightly. As if this whole thing wasn’t bad enough, now he had to pass a test to get past Granger the bridge troll. “I thought he told you —”

“He did,” she said flatly. “And about yesterday.”

“Well I’m here to apologise,” said Draco. Granger’s eyebrows lifted again. Still unimpressed. “And to tell him …” He sighed again and broke eye contact, willing himself not to give up, not to take this as a sign he should just go home and ream into Pansy for giving him such bad advice.

“Malfoy.” He looked up. Her voice was softer now, and her eyes seemed a little less hard. “What are you doing? You really hurt him, you know.”

“I know,” he said stiffly. “I said I’m here to apologise.”

“Well he doesn’t need an apology,” she said. “If you’re only going to let him down again —”

“I’m not.” He rubbed his forehead and looked at her again, exasperated, defeated. “I’ve … had some sense talked into me.”

She looked like it was the last thing she’d been expecting. 

“Have you?”

“Yes,” he said. “So would you please get him for me before I lose my nerve?”

It was the right thing to say. Her expression melted into something much softer and he fancied he even saw the beginnings of a smile.

“Can I ask who affected this change of heart?”

“Pansy,” he said. And, when Granger seemed taken aback, “She’s very wise when she feels like it.”

“I see. Well …” She still looked a bit conflicted, eyeing him and then putting her hand on the doorknob. “All right. I’ll tell him you’re here, anyway, but he was really hurt, Malfoy. I don’t know if he’ll want to hear it.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he said.

Granger eyed him another moment and then went back inside, shutting the door behind her. Draco only had to wait a minute before it was opening again, and this time Harry came out. The sight of him made Draco’s heart feel tender and sore.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi, Potter.”

He waited to see if Harry would say anything else but he didn’t. He only stared at Draco expectantly, arms folded, in all ways closed off.

“I came to apologise,” said Draco.

“Well you can keep it,” said Harry. “I don’t need an apology because you told me the truth.”

“It wasn’t the truth, Potter,” Draco said quietly. “Opposite, really.”

Harry was silent. Then, “You made me feel like shit, Draco.”

“I know. I’m sorry. You freaked me out, springing it on me like that.”

A beat, then two, and then suddenly Harry was dropping his arms and sighing and he looked at Draco with so much vulnerability he nearly had to turn away from it.

“I didn’t mean to tell you …” He licked his lips, scratched his arm. It reminded Draco that beneath everything, Harry was still the same awkward dorky leader-of-the-losers he’d always been, just with a bit more confidence now and the title of Official Saviour of the Wizarding World. “I wouldn’t have said that if … I was just angry.”

He didn’t need to ask what Harry was referring to.

“I know.”

“Not that I didn’t … I mean, I … I do —”

“Please don’t say it again,” Draco said. Harry laughed.

“Right. I just meant … I really do have feelings for you, Draco. Like … mad, crazy feelings, y’know? I don’t want it to be a fling.”

“It wasn’t a fling,” he said. He moved a little closer and Harry watched him carefully, eyes flickering once down to Draco’s mouth. “I didn’t even sleep with anyone else the whole time.”

“Well that’s good to know,” said Harry sardonically. But he was smiling, so Draco found himself smiling tentatively as well.

“I wanna be with you, Potter. Properly. I thought …” But he shakes his head, deciding that now isn’t the time to explain about his father. “I thought it was a stupid idea. Now I realise that it probably is, but that I don’t really care much. I’ve decided to ignore my better judgment this one time.”

“That’s quite Gryffindor of you,” Harry commented drily.

“Yes, well.”

“So I go against your better judgment, then?”

“Potter,” Draco sighed. “Please, I don’t mean it like —”

“I’m taking the piss, Draco,” Harry cut him off. He reached for Draco’s waist and pulled him close, and before Draco could get his breath back from a short, surprised intake of breath Harry’s mouth was on his, warm and familiar and soothing. He brought his hands to Harry’s face and kissed back without bothering to hide his overwhelming relief.

Harry chased his mouth when he pulled away and Draco breathed out a laugh, holding him at bay with a hand on his chest. 

“We have plenty of time,” he said. “D’you wanna come over later tonight, after your friends leave?”

“What? No, come in.” He took Draco’s hand and gestured with his head towards the door. “Please. It’s just Ron and Hermione. They know everything.”

“Really?” Draco drawled. “And you think Weasley won’t try to kill me?”

“I promise not to let him,” Harry grinned. “Please, Draco. You said you wanted to do this properly, right?”

He thought of what Pansy said about being irresponsible, and decided it was worth a try at least.

“Okay,” he said. Harry beamed and tugged him inside.

Towards his ultimate downfall or towards the beginning of the rest of his life, he didn’t know. That, as Pansy would have said, was the fun of it.

#anna writes #answered #drarry fic #god i had sm fun writing this tysm for the prompt 😩

[jikookuntold]

Jungkook and His Cover Songs: Is “10000 Hours” about Jimin?

Disclaimer: The following post includes theories, lyric and numeric analysis, plus my personal opinions, so please don’t take anything seriously. I’m too lazy to upload photos and videos for the moments I mentioned here, but I’m sure you know about them all. Any Jikooker must know. And I’m not Korean or a Korean culture expert, I just know as much as any Stan Twitter ARMY knows about their culture.

Anyone?

Maybe one of the biggest Jikook moments of 2021 so far, is where Jimin jumped into Jungkook’s hug, in Lee Hyun’s Vlog. But the other moment on that Vlog was even more significant; Jungkook was singing “Anyone” from Justin Bieber’s new album, and Jimin was harmonizing with him while holding on his shirt. I don’t want to mention their interview moment singing “Peaches” because I know this song is super popular in South Korea right now and somehow it doesn’t count as a moment. But it’s safe to say that Jikook has something special with his songs, and JK in particular always was invested in him. 

JK & JB

The reason behind Jungkook’s devotion to Justin Bieber was always a big question for me, and I got my answer not long time ago. Jungkook’s playlist for Melon Radio Station included a song from JB’s new album named “Lonely”. This is one of the most personal songs any artist can ever make, and JK recommended it to his audience. Here are the lyrics of “Lonely” by Justin Bieber:

Everybody knows my name now

But somethin' 'bout it still feels strange

Like lookin' in a mirror, tryna steady yourself

And seein' somebody else

And everything is not the same now

It feels like all our lives have changed

Maybe when I'm older, it'll all calm down

But it's killin' me now

What if you had it all, but nobody to call?

Maybe then you'd know me

'Cause I've had everything

But no one's listening

And that's just lonely

I'm so lonely, lonely

Everybody knows my past now

Like my house was always made of glass

And maybe that's the price you pay

For the money and fame at an early age

And everybody saw me sick

And it felt like no one gave

They criticized the things I did as an idiot kid

What if you had it all, but nobody to call?

Maybe then you'd know me

'Cause I've had everything

But no one's listening

And that's just lonely

These lyrics made me think of one specific thing, the thing that JK and JB have in common: They started their careers at a very young age, and their lives have been under the scrutiny of so many people. These people judged and criticized them but never tried to understand them. The lyrics are straightforward and leave no place for interpretation. By recommending this song, JK showed that he had (and probably still has) the same experiences in his life, and I think the reason he recommends or covers JB’s songs more than any other artist is that he has many things in common with him, and feels connected to his songs. 

This can lead us to another theory: By covering a Justin Bieber song, Jungkook shares something about himself with us, something that he can’t express directly.

Jungkook is interested in JB’s songs, but he is not the only one. As I said earlier in this post, Jimin shares the same taste with Jungkook, and my receipt is not just that “Anyone” or “Peaches” harmonizing moments, but also Jimin’s Spotify playlists. Since 2017 (or earlier, I’m not sure about this part) he has added some JB songs to his official playlist, and even his current playlist (July 2021) has two JB songs. And also let’s not forget the fact that Jikook as a subunit started in 2014 with a JB cover. Yes, I’m talking about “Mistletoe” and as you may know, Jimin translated the lyrics of this song to Korean. 

10000 Hours

Nearly 700 words and I haven’t started yet! The subject of this post was supposed to be the connections between “10000 hours” cover and Jikook but this prelude was necessary to clarify all the aspects of the topic and we find out how JB is special for JK and Jimin and how they (especially Jungkook) feel connected to him. Anyways, back to 10000 hours:

Dan + Shay and Justin Bieber released this Grammy winner song in October 2019. Here are the lyrics: 

Do you love the rain, does it make you dance

When you're drunk with your friends at a party

What's your favorite song, does it make you smile

Do you think of me?

When you close your eyes, tell me, what are you dreamin'?

Everything, I wanna know it all

I'd spend ten thousand hours and ten thousand more

Oh, if that's what it takes to learn that sweet heart of yours

And I might never get there, but I'm gonna try

If it's ten thousand hours or the rest of my life

I'm gonna love you

Do you miss the road that you grew up on?

Did you get your middle name from your grandma?

When you think about your forever now, do you think of me?

When you close your eyes, tell me, what are you dreamin'?

Everything, I wanna know it all

I'd spend ten thousand hours and ten thousand more

Oh, if that's what it takes to learn that sweet heart of yours

And I might never get there, but I'm gonna try

If it's ten thousand hours or the rest of my life

I'm gonna love you

Ooh, want the good and the bad and everything in between

Ooh, gotta cure my curiosity

Ooh, yeah

I'd spend ten thousand hours and ten thousand more

Oh, if that's what it takes to learn that

Sweet heart of yours

And I might never get there, but I'm gonna try

If it's ten thousand hours or the rest of my life

I'm gonna love you

And I'm gonna love you

As you can see, the lyrics are 100% romantic, and the singers including JB, have dedicated this song to their lovers. Also, their girlfriends/wives have a cameo in the MV, which leaves no place for speculation for the context of the song: Even though the uncertainties always exist and no one knows about the future, our love is strong and will stay strong regardless of time. 

The Cover and the Theories

Nearly one year later, on July 28th, 2020, Jungkook surprised ARMYs with a short video he tweeted at 11:56 AM. That video was a 49 seconds cover of 10000 hours. A few minutes later, he deleted the tweet (apparently with the advertisement excuses, because it was tweeted from an iPhone and they have a contract with Samsung). Later that night, Jungkook released the full version on Sound Cloud and tweeted the link at 11:47 PM. 

Jikookers discovered numerous theories that day about the times of both tweets; if you add the digits of the time, the result is “13” for both tweets 1+1+4+7=13, 1+1+5+6=13, and as you already know “13” is Jikook’s magic number. Also, the first video he tweeted was 49 seconds and 4+9=13. But in my opinion, this theory is not strong. I know that numerology is very popular in Korean culture but still, all of this can be coincidences, but the other things I’m going to bring up are most likely not. 

28th July 2020 was the 7th anniversary of the first Jikook selca posted after debut. This also might be a coincidence and to be honest, it cannot be a strong link to make a connection with Jikook, but worths sharing. 

The next thing that many Jikookers also pointed out, was related to the title of the song. The lyrics say “10000 hours and 10000 more” and 20000 hours after the 28th of July is 8th November 2022. As you may know. Jikookers believe November 8th is a significant date for Jikook. I believe this can be a coincidence either, and it’s very unlikely of Jungkook to do such calculations (Koreans are interested in numbers when it comes to days and dates, but counting hours is not usual in any culture. Other than that, I’m still doubtful about the origins of the November 8th theory because we have nothing other than two tweets and G.C.F Tokyo release date and their hotel room in Tokyo which still can be coincidental). But I don’t deny these theories because even as a coincidence, it’s still very interesting. 

And the next theory is connected to the “Red Moon”. On 27th July 2018, a total lunar eclipse happened all over the world, which became known as the red moon. At that time, BTS were in Malta, and on the same night, Jikook were watching the red moon on a boat. They shared plenty of photos and videos of that moment and I’m sure as a Jikooker you have seen them all and you know that night had a very romantic mood (BigHit words, not mine) for Jikook. So, a second anniversary for that night and the day after that night can be a significant date to release a very romantic cover. Is this a coincidence too? I think we had many of them already.

And last but not least is something connected to Korean culture. You probably know that 1000 days anniversaries are very important for Koreans and they celebrate them along with real anniversaries of the important dates in their lives. And guess what? 27th July 2020 is 1000 days after 31 October 2017. This day is the day Jikook’s travel to Tokyo ended and they posted their couply mirror selca on Twitter with flower bouquet emoji. Despite the one-day difference (the same case for the red moon anniversary), this is not a minor event or small coincidence. I believe Jungkook posted “10000 hour” cover for this reason and based on this, the other theories I mentioned earlier can be true either. 

The lyrics hit different if you read them again, after knowing this fact. Right? I don’t want to make this post much longer but before wrapping up, I want to talk about the lyrics of “Anyone” by JB (the song Jikook were harmonizing in Lee Hyun’s Vlog):

Dance with me under the diamonds

See me like breath in the cold

Sleep with me here in the silence

Come kiss me, silver and gold

You say that I won't lose you

But you can't predict the future

So, just hold on like you will never let go

Yeah, if you ever move on without me

I need to make sure you know that

You are the only one I'll ever love

(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)

Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone

(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)

Looking back on my life

You're the only good I've ever done (ever done)

Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone (anyone)

Not anyone

Forever's not enough time to (oh)

Love you the way that I want (love you the way that I want)

'Cause every morning I find you (oh)

I fear the day that I don't

You say that I won't lose you

But you can't predict the future

'Cause certain things are out of our control

Yeah, if you ever move on without me

I need to make sure you know that

You are the only one I'll ever love

Only one (I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)

Yeah, you, if it's not you it's not anyone

(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)

Looking back on my life

You're the only good I've ever done (I've ever done)

Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone

It's not anyone, not anyone

Oh, oh, oh, oh

If it's not you, it's not anyone

Oh, oh, oh, yeah, whoa

Yeah, you are the only one I'll ever love

(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)

Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone

(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya) gotta tell ya

Looking back on my life

You're the only good I've ever done (ever done, oh, yeah)

Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone

If you read the lyrics, you will notice that the context is very similar to “10000 hours”. It talks about the uncertainties of a beautiful love or in other words: No matter what the future brings to us, this love will last forever. 

This context of uncertainty and unknown future for a romance is a common concept in many of the songs Jungkook has covered and it’s not limited to the Justin Bieber covers he has done and maybe this concept can be the topic for my next analysis. 

#jikook #jikookanalysis #jimin #jungkook

[jiejie-eonni-onee-sama]

All hail to My King! (Part 2)

For the lovely @marilynmonroefanfics​ 💝💖💘😘

Hope you will love the story!

N.B: This is the second part of I’d put a crown at your feet... So, it will be an AU, like the previous part.

July 29th, 1981. Saint Paul’s Cathedral.

The wedding bells rang again in the sky of the United Kingdom. After years of expectation, Charles of Wales, Crown Prince of the United Kingdom, finally get married. And the lucky woman was the young Diana Spencer, a charming blonde woman whose shy looks enthralled the country.

All the people were delighted to admire this modern fairytale and cheered for the new royal couple.

While the entire kingdom celebrated this event, the royal family prepared themselves for this incredible event. At the altar, Charles waited for his future wife, slightly nervous.

"Come on, Charles, breath! It looks like you're going to faint!" joked Andrew.

"Leave me alone! It's not you who is getting married!"

"Calm down, Charles! He just wanted you to relax!" stated Edward.

Sighing, the prince glanced at his parents: Philip gently smiled at his son, while Elizabeth nodded by way of encouragement. Charles noticed the presence of Piero, who was sitting between Margaret and Anne. The latter beamed at him and slightly waved as a sign of support. 

Smiling, the heir apparent to the British throne discreetly waved back before he chatted with his brothers. 

Piero genuinely smiled: he was so thrilled when Charles told him about his engagement. He would remember the first day Charles introduced him to the young Diana Spencer... 

Flash-back. February 16th, 1981.

"So am I finally going to meet your mysterious friend named Piero, Charles?" asked Diana.

"Indeed, my love. I wished that you met him sooner, but we did not manage to find some time. But, here we are!"

"You seem very attached to him. Do you have a special bond with him?"

"You are not far from the truth. To be honest, Piero is very dear to me and to some members of my family. And I really want to introduce you to him." 

"I am honored." gently smiled his fiancee.

A few minutes later, they arrived near a beautiful house in Westbourne. The young woman noticed a car she immediately recognized.

"Isn't that the car of your father?"

"Uh? Oh, indeed: it is his car!"

They got out of their car and went to the door.

"Do you think your friend is going to like the flowers I bring?" asked Diana as she picked the bouquet.

"I am certain he will appreciate, dear."

Clearing his throat, the prince knocked on the door. To be honest, he was a bit nervous introducing Diana and Piero. After all, it was the first time they will meet in person. If only his mother had not discovered the truth about Piero and his father, he would have done it sooner.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Piero appeared with a big smile on his face.

"Charles! How do you do?"

"Good afternoon, Piero. I am fine, thanks. And you?"

"I feel like a million bucks, thanks."

Charles gestured towards Diana, who blushed.

"Piero, I would like to introduce my fiancee, Lady Diana Frances Spencer, to you. Diana, this is Mister Piero De Angelis, artist by profession."

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mister De Angelis," politely muttered Diana.

"The pleasure is mine, my dear. I was impatient to meet you too: Charles did not stop talking about you..."

"In good terms, I hope..." giggled the young woman.

"Oh, you have no idea. I'm afraid that the English language lacks words for our dear Charles to say how perfect you are!"

"You're kind, thank you... Oh, I brought this bouquet for you!" she said while handing the flowers to their host.

"That's very lovely, thanks. Come in, we have so many things to talk about..."

The pair entered the house and followed Piero to his indoor garden, where they sat down.

"So, Diana... Can I call you Diana?"

"Of course!"

"Very well. So, Diana, how do you handle the media?"

"The best I can: they can be very intrusive. But Charles is very supportive, so it helps a lot. And I can count on Andrew and Edward to help me!"

"Yes: I've heard that they threw snowballs at photographers during the Christmas Party at Balmoral!"

"Absolutely. Mother was not very pleased, but it was fun!"

"Oh please: don't talk about her! Your mother is such a killjoy!"

Diana snorted. She admitted that her royal future mother-in-law was quite stern and strict, but she never heard someone said it loud... except Margaret!

"Diana spotted my dad's car near your house. Is that normal?"

"Yes, it is right: he is here!"

"Where?"

"Much to my dismay, he is in the kitchen!"

"In the kitchen?" asked the pair, puzzled.

"And why is he in the kitchen?"

Piero comically sighed.

"Because, for God only knows why, your dear father decided to cook for you today!"

"COOKING?" screamed Charles.

"But does he know how to cook?" asked Diana.

"Well, I am afraid that he never saw a pan on his entire life!"

"I HEARD YOU, PIERO!" yelled Philip from the kitchen.

"It was on purpose, darling!" yelled back the man with a mischievous smile.

Diana raised an eyebrow: did Piero just called Philip darling? It was unusual...

Philip appeared with a large plate in his hands.

"Sorry for the waiting... But I wanted to not blowing up the kitchen!"

"You better not soil my kitchen, or I let you cleaning up!"

"No worry, angel: your kitchen is untouched... Oh, sorry: hello, the fiances! How are you?"

"We are fine, and we were wondering about your cooking skills!"

"I did not know you cooked!" genuinely said Diana.

"To be honest, I wanted to try something for our little reunion far from Buckingham Palace. And to please our host, I tried Italian gastronomy!"

Piero looked at his lover, shocked.

"Wait a minute! Did you try to cook something from Italy? From my familial roots?"

"Yes, why?"

"Honestly, Philip... I hesitate between happiness because you honor my culture and dread. After all, I fear a culinary disaster!"

Diana and Charles burst into a fit of laughter when they saw Philip stared in amazement.

"Do you have such little faith in my abilities, my love?"

"Mmmmh... It depends which abilities you are talking about!" smirked Piero.

When he understood the innuendo, the prince consort brightly blushed.

"PIERO!"

While Diana laughed, Charles cleared his throat.

"Hm, Father, Piero: I did not tell Diana..."

"You did not tell me about what?" inquired the young woman, perplexed.

Charles glanced at his father and his best friend before speaking:

"Well, as you have guessed, my parents' marriage was broken for many years."

"Yes?"

"In fact, it is the case, and my mother even had a lover, Mister Acherville. So, this situation strained the relationships between all the members of our family. It lasted 4 years until my dear aunt Margaret introduced Piero to my dad during a party. And since this day... they started a love affair!"

The young woman gasped.

"You mean... Piero is your father's boyfriend?"

"To put it simply, yes. And those two lovebirds are together since 1972."

He gently held Diana's hand.

"Honestly, I really tried to find how to tell you about this. But I thought that the better solution was that you see it by yourself."

Diana nodded, surprised.

"Well, that was unexpected... But, on the other hand, when you introduced me to your family for the first time, I spotted that your parents did not seem close to each other. Of course, it could be explained by the etiquette, but I did not feel any warmth, not a single trace of love. I guess it is the consequence of a dying love... And I know what I am talking about since my parents divorced when I was a child..."

She warmly smiled.

"But, it is a good thing that your father finds someone to love. And I can see that it is a genuine bond."

The three men sighed, relieved. At least, Diana was not against it.

"Well, I guess that it went better than I expected." smiled Piero.

"Son, you choose right: your future wife is a good person. Keep that in mind!" stated Philip.

"I would never forget that, Father," answered Charles.

The dinner went smoothly, between fits of laughter and passionate discussions. During the dinner, Piero gets to know Diana better. Her shining personality, her lovely laugh, her shy smile... Every part of her was astonishing. Admittedly, Charles chose wisely his future wife.

Back to the present.

Suddenly, cheerings can be heard outside the cathedral as Diana appeared, dressed in her white wedding gown. She shyly glanced at Charles with a graceful smile on her face. Walking her down the aisle, her father, the Earl of Spencer, was proud and moved to marry his daughter to the Crown Prince.

Piero looked at the future husband and wife as they exchanged their vows. All with the benediction of the Archbishop of Canterbury. He felt that Charles and Diana would be happy together. As long as they never forget the essential, everything would be fine...

June 21st, 1982. At Piero's home.

In the living room, Philip paced up back and forth, much to Piero's annoyance.

"For Lord's sake, stop pacing like a caged lion! It bothers me, and I can't concentrate on my paint!"

"I know, I know... But I am worried!"

Piero rolled his eyes.

"Thank you, I have noticed! But it would be fine: Diana is with the best doctors! It will be fine!"

"I know... But I can't help!"

Sighing, Piero put his paintbrushes away and said:

"Philip, there is no need to worry: I am sure everything will be okay. Moreover, Charles is with her!"

The prince consort sat down and replied:

"Yes, I should not worry. But Diana's pregnancy was so stressful for her that I don't know how she would handle this birth!"

Piero scratched the back of his head: poor Diana! Her first pregnancy was an ordeal, to say the least! Of course, he, Charles, Philip, Anne, and Margaret were supportive and tried to ease her pains. 

He did not want to admit it, but he was a bit worried too...

Suddenly, the phone rang, startling them.

"Do you think it's them?"

"Just pick the phone, and you'll see!"

Philip answered the call.

"Hello?"

**"It's me, dad!"**

"Ah, Charles! What a relief! Do you have any news?"

**"Sure, I have! Is Piero here?"**

"Here I am!" said the latter, who arrived near the phone.

"So, the news?"

**"They are wonderful, to be honest. So, I can proudly say this: Dad, Piero, for the third time in your life, you are grandparents! And it's a boy!"**

"A BOY?" happily exclaimed the two lovers.

"What lovely news! What are his names?"

**"We named him William Arthur Philip Louis."**

"A touching tribute to your old father!" smiled Philip, moved by this news.

"And how's the mother?" inquired Piero.

**"Diana is exhausted but healthy and happy!"**

"Brilliant... You see, until your call, your father was scared to the core!"

"Did you really need to tell him?"

**"Well, at least, there is nothing to worry about, dad. Now, I have to leave you: I have to call Mother, and the people are impatient to meet my son!"**

"I understand... See you later!"

Once the conversation finished, Philip happily sighed:

"I wonder how he will look like, this little William!"

"We'll see when we'll meet him. I am sure he would be a lovely child."

"As long as he does not have his father's ears!"

"PHILIP MOUNTBATTEN! Take back immediately what you said... Otherwise, you sleep on the couch!"

"What? No, you would not dare..."

"Watch me..." smirked the artist as he ran to the bedroom.

"Not so fast, young man !" laughed the Duke as he ran after his lover.

To sum up, it was another afternoon like the others for Philip and Piero.

September 15th, 1984. In Kensington Palace.

"It's a boy again!" happily exclaimed Piero as he hung up the phone.

"Well, at least, Lizzie won't fear for her lineage!" snickered Margaret.

"And how they name him?" asked Philip.

"Henry Charles Albert David!"

"ALBERT?" exclaimed Margaret.

The two men looked at her, puzzled.

"Is there anything wrong, Maggie?" asked Piero.

"No... It's just that... Albert was my father's name."

She gently smiled.

"Finally, there is a new Albert in the family. Let's hope this little Harry will have a long and a nice life!"

Philip poured three glasses of champagne and handed them to Margaret and Piero.

"Now, let's raise our glasses to Harry!"

"TO HARRY!" happily exclaimed the artist and the princess.

As they cheered, this trio seemed to live total happiness, ready to deal with all the ordeals of life.

March 12th, 1986. Buckingham Palace.

"I really hope that this evening will be festive: I despise boring events!" sighed Margaret.

"Like all of us!" replied Piero.

"But the Queen required our presence, so let's do it!" said Diana, adjusting her dress.

"You heard the lady? Let's get over this! Besides, French President François Mitterrand would, at least, be more interesting than his American counterpart, Mister Reagan!" declared Philip.

The quartet got out of the car and went to the main room of Buckingham Palace. Walking down the corridors, the staff greeted them with deference:

"Good evening, Sires. Your Highnesses..."

"Good evening!"

Even Piero was greeted as if he was a member of the Royal Family. After all, the staff knew about Piero's existence since his confrontation with the Queen in 1979. But the artist was polite and kind towards them, so they treated him well and kept his relationship with Philip secret.

Before they arrived at the main room, Margaret asked with a mischievous tone:

"Ready for the show?"

"Shall we go, Maggie!" laughed Piero.

Two servants opened the doors, and they discovered a crowded place. 

A servant announced:

"His Highness, Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, Her Highness, Princess Margaret, Countess Snowdon, Her Highness Diana, Princess of Wales, and Sir Piero de Angelis."

All the people turned around and gasped in amazement when they saw the four newcomers arriving in the room. 

Indeed, Margaret wore a turquoise dress, while Diana showed a beautiful turquoise necklace around her neck. As for Philip, he carried a turquoise brooch on his buttonhole, and Piero wore a turquoise tie. All seemed to shine among the guests... 

A detail that bothered the Queen to the highest degree: of course, she must have known that those four would show off this evening.

Behind her, her devoted squire/lover, Roger Acherville, muttered at her ear:

"Pathetic! Look at them, dear! They disrespect your authority!"

"I am not sure that it was Diana's idea, neither Margaret... Even it would not be a surprise!"

"I am ready to bet that this parasite De Angelis was behind this farce. And, of course, your dear husband followed like a lost puppy!"

Meanwhile, the other guests complimented the royal newcomers with deference.

"Your Highness, you look ravishing in this suit!"

"Princess Diana, you are amazing tonight!"

"Mister De Angelis, your reputation as a fashionable man was not a rumor but the truth!"

"Princess Margaret, how gorgeous you are!"

Charles went to his wife and gently kissed her hand.

"My dear, you never cease to amaze me!" the prince whispered to her ear.

"You flatterer! I only tried to be beautiful for you!" Diana giggled.

At the moment, Piero saluted Misters Mitterrand and Reagan, as well as their respective wives.

"It is an exquisite honor to meet you, Monsieur De Angelis!" stated the French President.

"My husband and I admire your artistic work!" admitted Mrs. Danielle Mitterrand with a warm smile.

"Indeed, you are a talented man! I really appreciated your last painting, Peaceful Ireland." added the American Head of State.

"Personally, my firm favorite is your sculpture entitled Pure Embrace. It's amazing how you manage to convey the feeling of love through your work of art!" explained Mrs. Nancy Reagan.

"Ladies and gentleman, the humble artist in front of you is moved and honored by your compliments!" said Piero with a deep bow to them.

Margaret triumphally smirked: she knew this young man she met in 1972 will be famous, one day. And she was not disappointed by his incredible success. 

A few minutes later, they were all gathered in the dining room of Buckingham Palace, along with Andrew, his girlfriend Sarah Ferguson, Anne, her husband Mark, Edward, and the Queen Mother. The atmosphere was charming and elegant, with passionate conversations.

Suddenly, Mrs. Mitterrand asked:

"Mr. De Angelis, is it true that you have other talents?"

"Oh, I don't know..." slightly blushed Piero.

"I've heard that he has an amazing voice!" added Sarah.

"Oh, what a chance! I would be so glad to hear him singing!" happily exclaimed  Mrs. Reagan.

"If Her Majesty agrees, Mister De Angelis can demonstrate his singing talent!" suggested President Reagan.

Under the insistence of her guests, Elizabeth agreed:

"Well, if Mister De Angelis agrees, I allow him to perform!"

"In this case, just provide me a microphone, and let's start the party!" said Piero as he got up.

A few minutes later, everything was ready, and Piero went behind the microphone:

"Tonight, let's be elegant: I shall sing some Broadway classic!"

"Oh, that's exciting!" smiled Andrew.

Piero made a gesture to the musicians who started to play. And as soon as he was ready, the man sang:

You could have a great career, and you should! 

Only one thing stops you, dear: you're too good! 

If you want a future, darlin', why don't you get a past? '

Cause that fateful moment's comin' at last...

We're all alone. No chaperone can get our number. 

The world's in slumber--let's misbehave! 

There's something wild about you, child, that's so contagious. 

Let's be outrageous--let's misbehave! 

Philip nearly choked on his whiskey when he heard the lyrics: it can't be! He dared singing this!

Margaret tried to hide her hilarity but struggled: she should have known that Piero would provoke the Queen, but she did not expect this joke!

Diana and Charles sniggered: they were sure those lyrics were addressed to Philip... in front of Elizabeth!

Andrew, Sarah, and Edward tried to not burst into laughter, but the situation was too hilarious.

Anne and Mark stifled their laughs by covering their mouths, but it was hard to stop giggling like schoolboys.

The other guests snorted with laughter as they found the choice of the song pretty daring!

As for the Queen, she politely listened: she must admit that Piero was a good singer. Yet, she did not know the reason for the hilarity of her guests... 

However, the Queen Mother understood what the song implied and tried to not be scandalized. She never accepted the presence of Piero in Philip's life, even if she admitted that he was a good influence on her grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

When it came to Acherville, he was boiling with rage. Among the few anti-Pieros, he probably was the most virulent towards the artist since the revelation of his love affair with the Duke of Edinburgh. 

There was no place for two royal favorites at Buckingham Palace, and he swore to himself that he would do anything to oust his archnemesis... 

Meanwhile, Piero, who ignored the turmoils of his enemy, continued to sing, much to some guests' entertainment:

When Adam won Eve's hand, he wouldn't stand for teasin'. 

He didn't care about those apples out of season. 

They say that spring means just one thing to little lovebirds. 

We're not above birds--let's misbehave! 

It's getting late, and while I wait, my poor heart aches on. 

Why keep the brakes on? Let's misbehave! 

I feel quite sure un peu d'amour would be attractive. 

While we're still active, let's misbehave! 

If you would just be sweet and only meet your fate, dear, Would be the great event of 1928, dear. 

I always squeeze my Pekingese whenever he's good. 

Your pedigree's good. 

Let's misbehave. 

The hour is prime 

We're wasting time procrastinating. 

Start osculating!

Let's misbehave!

The guests applauded his performance, with some of them laughing at the message of the song.

As the artist he was, Piero saluted his audience before coming back to his seat.

"It was a wonderful performance, Mister De Angelis! Even if the choice of the song was risqué!" chuckled Mrs. Mitterrand.

"Tell me, Monsieur De Angelis: the song was not addressed to our wives?" inquired the French President.

"Oops, I get caught!" said Piero with a mischievous smile.

The two first ladies laughed, followed by their respective husbands.

"Oh, dear: you are one of the funniest men I ever met... Even if I appreciated your gesture, my love only belongs to my dear Ronald!" smiled Nancy while glancing at her husband.

"And my devotion is all yours, my darling!" answered Ronald as he kissed her hand.

"I share her opinion: you may be charming, but nothing would come between François and me!" continued Danielle.

"Ah, ma chère: we are bound to grow old together. A blessing, isn't it?" added François with a tender gesture.

The event went well and lasted until 3am. Once the guests went back to their hotels or their houses, Diana, Charles, Andrew, Sarah, Anne, Mark, Philip, Piero, Margaret, and Edward relaxed while walking through the corridors.

"It was a nice evening! Even if nobody foreshadows our Piero's performance!" stated Margaret, smiling.

"For sure, we will always remember this moment!" laughed Edward.

"I can't believe you dared sing about sex in front of two presidents! We're lucky that nobody knew the truth!" smirked Philip.

"It sounds like you have some plan tonight, Father!" grinned Andrew.

"Don't be too imaginative, young man!"

Suddenly, Diana exclaimed:

"I want to do something crazy!"

"What?" asked Charles, puzzled.

Without a word, Diana took off her shoes before jumping on Piero's back.

"Ouch! Respect the old man I am!" laughed the artist.

"I've always dreamed of doing this!"

"Piggyback ride? Really?" snickered Edward.

"If Piero is an old man, so what am I?" asked Philip.

"A living dinosaur!"

"MAGGIE!" screamed Philip, while the others laughed.

"Great idea, Diana! Let's do this, Andrew!" exclaimed Fergie as she jumped on her boyfriend's back.

"The night is not over, so I guess we can go crazy!"

"I JOIN!" yelled Anne, who jumped on Mark's back.

"I am surrounded by grown-up children!" laughed Charles.

But the little fun abruptly stopped.

"Pathetic! If Sires Reagan and Mitterrand saw you at this moment, they would poorly think of all of you!"

All stopped and turned around to see Acherville, standing behind them, his arms crossed on his chest and an arrogant smile on his face.

"Oh no: here comes the party-pooper in chief!" grumbled Edward.

Next to Acherville were Elizabeth and the Queen Mother.

While Queen Mum was intrigued, the Queen was harsh:

"May I know what you are doing? Acting like children?"

She glared at Diana:

"Get off the back of Mister De Angelis, right now."

Hurt, Diana went down, as Elizabeth pursued her lecture:

"I can't believe that you, the wife of the Crown Prince, acted like a stupid girl and rode the back of this... man!"

"Be careful about what you're going to say!" snarled Piero.

"Show some respect to Her Majesty!" shot back Acherville.

"Oh, shut up, you boot-licker! Nobody asked for your opinion!" snapped Margaret.

The others stared at Acherville with angry eyes. Since the beginning of his relationship with the Queen, this man gained influence over Elizabeth. Much to her family's despair, this upstart had succeeded in becoming the sovereign's right-hand man.

And since Elizabeth had great affection for her favorite, Acherville was not ready to clear off.

"And you, Philip, haven't you done anything to stop them from behaving like immature children?"

"Honestly, Elizabeth, could you worry about more important things than that? May I let you know that it is three in the morning, that there is no head of state around, and that we have the right to let off steam a little! "

"Exactly, it's three in the morning, and you're supposed to go to sleep and not act like schoolchildren!"

Achervile smirked:

"You are lucky that the dinner was a success. Otherwise, there would have been dire consequences ... Especially against someone!" the former squire said, staring at Piero.

"Don't be a smartass! Just because you're the Queen's lover doesn't mean that you are the King!" snarled De Angelis.

"I have no orders to receive from an entertainer!" Acherville replied condescendingly.

Annoyed by the behavior of his mother's lover, Edward intervened in the conversation:

"For heaven's sake, Acherville! Go to hell and leave us alone!"

Everyone turned to the 22-year-old young man who looked pissed off: Edward was a calm and patient person. To see him get angry, you really had to push him to the limit!

"Edward? What does this language mean?" wondered the Queen Mother.

"I wouldn't allow such language from you, young man!" added the Queen.

"But I've had enough of this jerk, that's what I mean! He allows himself to disrespect all of us, whether it's your own children or the palace staff! You bet that everyone hates your playboy, mom!"

Elizabeth replied in an icy tone:

"Edward Antony Richard Louis Windsor, I order you to apologize to Mister Archeville immediately!"

"Apologize to that bastard? I'd rather die!"

Slowly, Diana walked towards her mother-in-law and said with a calm tone:

"And to think that you lectured on how to be a good mother during my first pregnancy! But I see that you have nothing to teach anyone on this subject where you are hardly brilliant, Your Majesty!"

Elizabeth wanted to protest, but she saw in the eyes of her daughter-in-law that she had no interest in interrupting her.

“Now I understand why your children say they grew up without their mother. It's not just because of your many official trips, but because of your indifference to them. I don't understand how you can ignore the flesh of your flesh, to the point of turning a blind eye to their suffering. I would never do such treatment on my children, ever! And I hope you will be a grandmother worthy of your grandchildren!"

Diana turned to Acherville and said threateningly:

"As for you, scoundrel, I strictly forbid you to approach my children, is that clear? Otherwise, I promise to make your life a nightmare, whether you sleep with the queen or not!"

"Well spoken, Diana!" exclaimed Margaret.

As for Charles, he was both surprised and amused: he did not know that his sweet wife hid such a character. And it did not displease him, on the contrary...

“Before I forget: now you will treat my husband, Anne, Andrew, and Edward with the respect they deserve. Remember that I married the future King of England, and his siblings are princes and princesses of the UK."

"But..."

"SHUT UP, I AM TALKING! And you're going to stop condescending Piero. This man might not be an aristocrat like you, but he's so much better than you. If anything happened to him, I would hold you responsible. And even if you took his place with the Queen, Philip remains the Prince Consort, and you will stop disrespecting him. Am I clear?"

Acherville had a cold sweat: the scathing tone of the Princess of Wales and the hateful look she gave him scared him.

As for Elizabeth, she was amazed. She, who thought that Diana would be an obedient and submissive young girl, had misjudged her daughter-in-law.

Resuming a semblance of dignity, she said soberly:

"Very well, I take note of your complaints, and I leave you. Good evening!"

Then, she turned around and walked away, followed by her mother and her lover.

Once the trio had left, Piero turned to Diana and said:

"Well, my dear, we can say that you have quite a character!"

He took her hands and added:

"Thanks for standing up for me!"

"There is no need to thank me: you have always been so nice to me. Besides, I could not let this man disrespect you! Neither to you nor the others."

“Brother, you married the right person," Andrew said.

"I see it day by day ... However, Diana, Mother is not completely wrong about riding on Piero's back."

"What do you mean?" Fergie asked worriedly.

Charles smiles mischievously:

"Come on, Diana! I am your husband: you are supposed to climb on my back!"

With a little cry of joy, the princess jumped on her husband's back.

Amused, Andrew had an idea:

"Shall we race?"

"YES!" replied the others.

Margaret and Philip teamed up while Edward climbed onto Piero's back.

"Ready? On your marks! 3.2... Hey! Father, that is cheating!" Anne yelled when she saw her father leave before the end of the count.

"Let's catch them!" exclaimed Piero happily.

They all started running through the halls of the palace, laughing. But this mad rush ended in the palace gym when they fell on the sports mats.

There was a silence, then they gave a fit of giggles at the result.

"Well, what a race! We start again when you want!" laughed Edward.

"I'm too old for that kind of bullshit!" Philip grumbled, massaging his lower back.

"Ah, you see! I was right when I said you were a dinosaur!" Margaret laughed, making the others laugh.

Philip looked falsely offended before responding:

"Dinosaurs don't compare with fossils!"

Margaret decided to counterattack:

"So, like that, am I an old fossil? Take that, diplodocus!"

And she threw a pillow in his face.

"YOUHOU! A pillow fight!" cried Edward, who attacked Andrew and Sarah.

"That's all we needed!" Charles exclaimed before Diana slammed a pillow right in his face.

"Take this!" laughed the young woman.

"So, you dared attacking me? Come over here!" laughed the prince while pursuing his wife armed with a cushion.

And it was a crazy pillow fight that lasted several minutes before everyone stopped, exhausted but hilarious.

"Well, you could say it was a memorable pillow fight!" Margaret sighed, smiling blissfully.

"You are right, Aunt Margaret! The best pillow fight of my life!" Andrew laughed.

Glancing at the clock, Charles said:

"I think we should go get some rest! I know tomorrow is a day off, but we need to get our sleep time back!"

"He's right ... Come on, good night!"

After wishing each other good night, they all left for their respective residences. Only Piero and Philip were left alone, enjoying the restored calm.

Suddenly Philip said:

"You know if Diana hadn't yelled at Acherville to defend you ..."

"Yes?"

"I would have done it."

"I know, don't worry. Our dear princess was faster than you, that's all."

The artist embraced his lover tenderly:

"I do not doubt for a minute that my handsome sailor would have come to my rescue!"

Amused, the prince stroked the young man's face and whispered:

"I love you, Piero!"

"I love you too, Philip!"

In the end, it was another victory for the pair and a new lease of life for Philip.

Meanwhile, Margaret went back home when Howard greeted her.

"Good evening, Ma'am. Or should I say good morning, given the hour?"

"Oh, dear Howard, you worried about me? What a sweet man!" gently smiled Margaret.

"But Ma'am, that is my duty!" answered the butler, blushing.

"Aw, how cute!" cooed the Princess as she playfully pinched her butler's cheek before heading to her bedroom.

"Good night, Howard! You can sleep: I won't wake up until 2 in the afternoon!"

Still surprised, the butler smiled: he should have known that even if she was 56 years old, Princess Margaret still being cheeky sometimes.

But at least, his life was not monotonous, and she was the most likable employer he ever had. Besides, he knew that he was the privileged witness of an extraordinary love story...

July 23rd, 1986. Westminster Abbey.

Once again, the bells of Westminster Abbey rang in the London sky. A new Royal wedding was celebrated all over the country. This time, it was Prince Andrew who gets married to his girlfriend, the charming redheaded Sarah Ferguson. 

While the newlyweds saluted the crowd from the balcony, Piero looked at them with tenderness. They seemed so happy and thrilled to start their new life together... 

"And to say that Andrew told me he did not want to be an adult when he was younger..." smirked Philip.

"Well, Sarah made him change his mind!" replied Piero, who smiled while looking at the groom and bride waving at the crowd.

Besides them, the Queen was happy for her third child to get married. However, something still bothered her: Piero.

Since she knew about her husband's affair with the artist, her children demanded that Piero would be present at every event they attended, their weddings included. 

A situation that annoyed Elizabeth, to say the least: this entertainer took her place in the family. All with the benediction of her children! Even the palace staff approved their relationship and treated Piero like a member of the royal family!

And her grandchildren... She may have a good relationship with them, but they prefer spending time with De Angelis. They even called him "Nonno Piero"! What an outrage!

Philip and her keep appearances of a happy marriage for the Crown's sake, but it was not the truth for years.

She hoped that Philip would grow tired and break up with the young Mister de Angelis, but nothing happened. Worse, they were in love like the first day.

Luckily for her, she had Roger by her side to support her and provide the love she needed.

As for Queen Mum, she did not approve of neither of the two royal favorites. But she had to admit that Piero is slightly more humble than Acherville. The latter reminded her of the former King Edward VIII... 

Nobody could tell what would happen in the following years. But for sure, one day, one of the two royal lovers had to be out of the picture...

September 15th, 1987, in Westbourne

In his house, Piero was finishing his next creation. Indeed, the famous German playwright Gerald Höfler asked him to create and supervise the scenery of his next play, A matter of mistakes. As the premiere was planned for mid-October at the London Coliseum, Höfler wanted his drama to be remembered. Until now, he praised Piero's designs, saying they were beyond his expectations.  

Once he finished his work, Piero proudly smiled: he was satisfied with his production! He could not wait to show the result!

He packed up his work and drove to the theater. Once he arrived, he went to the room, where he saw the dramatist supervising the rehearsal.

The artist greeted him:

"Hello, Gerald!"

The German man turned around and happily exclaimed:

"Piero, Mein Lieber! What a blessing to see you again! How is your work going on?"

"Well, I can proudly say that I have finished!"

"Wunderbar! Show me your masterpieces!"

Piero handed him his portfolio, and Gerald checked it with impatience. Considering his facial expressions, the artist guessed that the playwright was satisfied with his work.

"Piero, Liebe... You are beyond my expectations!"

"Really?"

"Yes... The colors are harmonious, and it matches every scene... No one ever shows me such wonderful work!"

"Well, I am glad that you liked it!"

Suddenly, the German man came closer to him, inches between their faces.

"I hope that your creations got the praise they deserve..."

"Oh... Yes, of course!"

"That's great!" muttered Gerald while he gently stroke Piero's hand, much to the embarrassment of the latter.

"Uh, Gerald? What are you doing?"

"Just... thanking you..." whispered the playwright, as he leaned closer in an attempt to kiss the Italian man.

Panicked, Piero stood back and stammered:

"Listen, Gerald: you're a good man, and I enjoy working with you! But we can't be together!"

"Was?"

"I know, it might be surprising, but I am with someone, and I am happy with him!"

"Does he deserves you?"

Piero slightly smiled.

"More than you ever imagined..."

"And who is this lucky man?"

"Well... It's complicated..."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's just say that I want to keep my personal life private!"

A smirk came across Gerald's face.

"Or let's just say that you are lying..."

He sensually held Piero's waist, much to the latter's fear.

"Whoever shares your bed - if he exists - I can be better than him... Wanna try?"

As the artist was stammering an answer, a familiar voice boomed:

"Is everything alright, gentlemen?"

The two artists turned around, and Piero was relieved to see Philip arriving.

But the look in his eyes said that he was pissed off... Let's hope that he won't make a scene.

Immediately, Gerald stood back and bowed:

"Your Highness, it is such a pleasure and honor to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine." shortly answered the Duke.

Piero bit his lip, trying to hide his smile: he did not except his lover being jealous to this point. At least, it stopped Gerald's courting.

"May I know what the prince consort is doing in this place?"

"As the patron of the Drama Arts festival, I wanted to see how the artists are doing..."

"We are doing well, Your Highness! Indeed, we will be ready for the premiere, thanks to Mister de Angelis!"

The prince consort retorted:

"So, it explained why you tried to kiss him?"

Gerald was speechless by the bluntness of this statement, while Piero covered his mouth, stifling his laughter. Indeed, he discovered the jealous side of Philip's personality.

"Uh... Your Highness... It was not what you think..."

"Do you consider that I am blind?"

"Was? No, no! I would not dare to say something like that!"

"I am reassured. Now, if you excuse me, I had an appointment with Mister de Angelis. As you may know, he is one of the organizers, and we must refine some details. After all, we want this celebration to be perfect, isn't it?"

The German dramatist stuttered:

"Well, of course, Your Highness!"

"Brilliant. I shall leave you: I think you had a lot of work!"

"Sure... I have to go! Have a good day, Sir!"

Philip left the place, followed by Piero, who smirked. Seeing Gerald being so livid was a funny view.

Once they got in the car, they drove to Kensington Palace. On their way, the Duke suddenly held Peter close to him.

The artist chuckled:

"Don't tell me you were jealous..."

"I swear that if you were not here, I would punch this jerk!"

"PHILIP! Please, don't jeopardize your reputation!"

"As if I care! I would let no one even barely touch you..."

He leaned close to his face.

"You're mine, and mine only."

"And I will always be yours, my Viking Prince... My mighty Mars."

"My little Mercury..." smirked the prince consort before feverishly kissing his lover.

Piero kissed him back, smiling: now, he was confident that Philip was a fiercely jealous lover. It seemed they are going to have fun in the future...  

October 20th, 1987, Buckingham Palace.

In Buckingham Palace's reception room, the splendor of the British Crown was set for the prestigious guests: indeed, Prince Rainier of Monaco and his wife, Grace Grimaldi, came to England for an official visit.

All the Royal Family was present to welcome the princely couple. Adjusting his tie in the bathroom, Piero was a bit nervous: he was really admirative of Grace when she was an acclaimed actress. He could not still believe he would meet one of the Hollywood icons.

Suddenly, he felt Philip's hands gently massaging his shoulders.

"Calm down, Piero: it would be fine. You survived your encounter with President Mitterrand and President Reagan, so you can survive this one!"

"I know, I know. But this is so different for me: Grace Kelly is my childhood idol! It seems so unreal!"

The Duke of Edinburgh gently kissed his lover's cheek.

"Have no fear, my angel: everything will be fine. Besides, I am sure the Grimaldi would be pleased to meet one of the best British artists of the century!"

The artist laughed.

"Oh, stop that! You're going to make me blush!"

"And you are so adorable when you do this!" chuckled the prince consort.

Abruptly, someone knocked at the door, and they heard Howard's voice:

"Mister De Angelis, Your Highness: I am here to tell you that their Royal Highnesses Prince Rainier and Princess Grace are about to arrive!"

"We'll be here in a minute. Thank you, Howard!" replied Philip.

He turned to Piero.

"Ready for the show?"

"Do I have the choice?"

"I take that as a yes. Come on, let's greet our guests!"

A few minutes later, they arrived in the reception room. They found Elizabeth, Acherville, Charles, Diana, the Queen Mother, and Margaret talking to each other. They all turned their heads and saw the two lovers arriving.

"There you are! You're in time for our guests!" stated the Queen with a cold tone.

"I am always on time, dear wife!" replied the prince consort.

The main door opened, and a servant announced:

"Their Royal Highnesses Prince Rainier and Princess Grace of Monaco!"

The sovereign saluted the Monegascan royals.

"It is such a pleasure to greet you, dear Rainier and Grace!"

"The pleasure is reciprocated, Your Majesty."

Grace went to salute Piero, giving him her most beautiful smile.

"Good evening, Mister De Angelis. I am so glad to finally meet the talented artist Danielle praised so much!"

Trying to not faint, Piero managed to answer:

"It is an honor to finally meet one of the most amazing women of our time."

He swore he did not know where he found the strength to not pass out: his legs were like jelly at the moment.

"You're very kind, Mister De Angelis."

The diner went smooth, animated by passionate conversations. Much to Piero's dismay, Acherville tried to brag about his cultural knowledge.

"Which artist do you enjoy the paintings, Princess?" he asked.

"Apart from Mister De Angelis? Well, I really enjoyed Delacroix's works of art. I also like Monet, Turner, Gainsborough, Picasso..."

"Really? You like Picasso's art? Honestly, it is not my cup of tea!" replied the squire.

"Why?" asked the former actress.

"Well, he is gifted, for sure, but... There is something in his paints I can't understand: it looks like nonsense."

"It is the purpose of abstract art, Mister Acherville!" replied Piero, making the guests laugh.

Philip glanced at his lover with pride: he perfectly snubbed Acherville, all in front of their companies! He guessed that Elizabeth was not pleased to see her favorite embarrassed. 

When the dinner reached his end, all the guests relaxed in the corridors. Rainier went to see Piero:

"May I speak with you in private, Mister De Angelis?"

"Of course, Your Highness!" answered Piero, puzzled.

They walked a little bit before the Prince of Monaco said:

"Mister De Angelis, I might sound rude or crazy, but I would like to order you a painting!"

Piero was astonished: he did not expect this one!

"Well... Of course, what can I do for you? Which type of paint do you want?"

"I would like you to paint a portrait of Grace."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes... I wish to offer this portrait for her birthday..."

The prince had a dreamy smile.

"She is everything I ever wished for. I don't know if you understand what I mean, but... When you find your significant one, you will do everything for this person!"

The artist gently smirked.;

"Oh, I understand, Your Highness. I understand very well..."

He nodded.

"Don't worry, I will work on your wife's portrait. I will make sure that it would ready on time for Her Highness's birthday!"

"Thank you very much, Mister De Angelis! She would be thrilled to have one of your creations." happily exclaimed Rainier as he shook hands with the British-Italian artist.

"The pleasure is all mine, Sir!" replied Piero.

Two hours later, the Monegascan couple went back to their hotel. Meanwhile, Piero walked down the corridors when suddenly, a hand grabbed him by the collar and pinned him against the wall.

He opened his eyes and discovered the furious face of Acherville.

"So, I hope you enjoyed humiliating me in front of everyone! How dare a commoner speaking like this to me?"

"Leave me alone, you jackass!" grimaced Piero while he struggled to get out of Acherville's grip.

"Not so fast! If you want to stay in one piece, here's my offer: get out of here and never come back!"

But the artist was not easily impressed.

"Over my dead body, you sucker!"

Acherville smirked like a predator.

"Well-chosen words, Signore!"

But as the Queen's favorite prepared his fist to punch Piero, a firm hand stopped his gesture.

"Would you care to tell me what are you doing, Sir Acherville?"

The two men saw Philip standing behind Acherville, his hand firmly gripping the squire's wrist. His furious glare terrified the squire.

"Let Piero go, or I swear that your wrist will be the first thing I will break!"

Reluctantly, Roger loosened his grip, and Piero managed to breathe. 

"Why don't you mind your business? He humiliated me!"

"Oh, but you managed perfectly to humiliate yourself without his help! Besides, admit it: you just needed an excuse to lash out at him!"

Acherville gritted his teeth: even if Philip was an old man, he had enough strength to follow through with threats. 

He pulled his hand back.

"Alright, you win. But it's not the end, Your Highness. One day or another, your little clown had to bow out. And be sure that I'll do anything!"

"Is that a threat?" snarled Piero.

"No... Just a warning."

The squire turned around and walked away. Once Acherville left, Philip rushed at Piero's side.

"Are you alright, Piero?"

"I knew better days... Apart from that, I am okay!"

Relieved, the prince gently held his lover against him. 

"Thank God, I arrived before he beat you!"

"I had no worry, you know. Because I knew you would come to save me..."

Piero gently stroked Philip's cheek.

"We survived through 15 years together. It is not like something is going to tear us apart."

"You're right, my little Delacroix."

Lightly leaning his head on his lover's shoulder, the artist whispered:

"I am so grateful to have you here with me, my Viking prince."

"And I am so glad to be by your side, my Italian angel." chuckled the Duke as he kissed Piero's head.

For sure, they are meant to stay together a long time...

December 24th, 1991

The thick snow covered the Scottish landscapes, turning them into fairytale scenery. Even if his Mediterranean roots enjoyed the warmth of summer, Piero has a soft spot for the enchanting British winter. Everything seemed so calm when the snow fell.

While admiring the view, the artist did not hear Margaret coming near to him:

"Looking for your next painting, caro Piero?"

"Hey, don't startle me like that!" laughed the man as he turned around.

"Oh, come on! Don't be such a wimp, darling!"

"Don't be a prick, Your Sassiness!" 

The princess laughed.

"Ah, my dear painter! At least, you master the art of banter!"

Margaret looked at the peaceful winter afternoon with a musing smile.

 "I always enjoyed Christmas time at Balmoral... It's like time stopped just for a few days, and you can be yourself for this short time." 

"I understand what you mean. Everything becomes eerie at this moment."

"I agree."

She smiled.

"And this year, we have The Little One with us!"

The Little One. This was the nickname Margaret gave to Grace Cecile Margaret, the third child of Charles and Diana. The little princess was born on July 23rd, during a hot summer day: poor Diana nearly passed out of exhaustion! But in the end, everyone was healthy and happy. And to say that little Grace made hearts melt was an understatement. 

"Yes, now there she is! Isn't she so cute?"

"You bet she is! You know what? If she looks like her mum when she grows up, she would be England's next darling!"

Piero snickered.

"I am not sure it will please Charles..."

"Poor nephew: he is not out of the woods with his good-looking children!" laughed Margaret.

"Especially when you decide to dress them like little top models!"

"What? It will be a shame to not dress them like the princes and princesses they are!"

Suddenly, Edward's voice called them.

"Aunt Margaret? Piero? Where are you?"

"We're here in a minute, dear." replied the princess before telling her friend.

"Come on, dear: they are worried about us!"

"Then, let's not be long in coming!"

The duo walked back near Balmoral Castle, where they found the rest of the family enjoying the afternoon.

While Diana held her six-month daughter in her arms, Charles looked after William and Harry. As for the two boys, they built a snowman with their cousins Peter, Zara, and Beatrice, with the help of their uncle Edward. At the same time, Fergie talked with Andrew, Anne, and Mark, while holding Eugenie. 

"Here come the two Fashion Icons! What were you doing?" asked Charles.

"We were planning a coup d'Etat, darling!" jokingly retorted Margaret.

"Oh, Dear Lord: trouble is among us!" replied Anne.

"I bet they were kissing!" joked Andrew.

"Do you want me to get killed by your father?" said his aunt.

"And I only belong to him. And no one else!" added Piero.

"Speaking of my dear brother-in-law, where is he?"

"He paid a visit to a friend who lives not far from here. The poor lad suffered a broken leg after a bad fall!" explained Mark.

"Oh, dear! I hope he will get better soon!" 

"I think so... Ah, I think Father is coming back!" stated Edward.

Indeed, the Range Rover parked, and Philip appeared.

"Hello everyone! Did I miss something?"

"Not at all: we explained to Margaret where did you go."

"Alright... Wait: where are Elizabeth and my mother-in-law?"

Diana replied.

"The Queen is rehearsing her Christmas speech, and the Queen Mother prefers staying inside, as she does not want to catch a cold!"

"Alright!"

He went to Piero and gently kissed his gloved hand.

"Aren't you cold, my beloved?"

"I am fine, thanks. Don't worry about me!"

This sweet moment was interrupted by an infamous voice.

"Oh, isn't that sweet?"

All turned to see Roger Achervillle, standing next to a wall, his arms folded on his chest.

"Oh, I nearly hope he fell in a frozen lake!" grumbled Charles.

"May we know what you are doing here?" sighed Fergie, exasperated.

"Nothing special, except that I see this family being soiled by some unwanted people!" snarled Acherville while glancing at Piero.

"As if you were pure as the driven snow! In case you forgot, you are unwanted in this family! Unlike Piero, no one ever wanted you here!" riposted Mark.

"Remember what happened the last time you tried to threat us..." warned Philip.

"Don't lecture me, you arrogant prick! Unlike me, a real British aristocrat, you are just an immigrant brought near the Crown by pity!"

Suddenly, snowballs were thrown at him by William, Peter, and Zara.

"Leave Grandpa and Nonno Piero alone, you bully!"

"Nobody wants you here, you dumbass!"

"Take that, you killjoy!"

The adults were impressed by their children's rebellion: usually, they ignored Acherville or tried to be polite to a minimum. But this time, they really want to defend Piero.

However, Acherville would have none of it and decided to admonish them.

"Come here, you little..."

"BEBOP, OLD MAN!" yelled Harry and Beatrice, who knocked him over with their sleds.

"Well done, kids!" smirked Margaret.

Furious, the squire got up and turned to the Princess:

"Don't you dare encouraging them, you witch!"

"ROGER ACHERVILLE, HOW DARE YOU?"

All turned and saw the Queen who stood at the entrance of the palace, furious.

"But dear..."

"I don't want to hear your excuses! No one ever speaks to my sister with that tone! You are not above her!"

All were shocked: it was the first time they heard Elizabeth yelling at her favorite like that.

"But Elizabeth, she encouraged your grandchildren to disrespect me!"

"Grandma, he wanted to slap us!" protested Beatrice.

"WHAT?"

"Lizzie, it's a lie!"

But the Queen was furious and did not want to hear his complaints.

"Don't even call Beatrice a liar, again! Let me be clear: you have no authority upon my grandchildren, understood?"

Acherville nodded, defeated.

"Fair enough. Now, shall we all come back inside? The dinner is ready." she said.

All went into the palace, taking off their coats and heading to their rooms. Once they get dressed for dinner, the royal family sat down and started to enjoy the recipes prepared by the cooking staff. 

The atmosphere was pleasant, even if all were still surprised by the Queen's outburst of rage.

"So, what do you think Santa Claus will bring you this year?" asked Andrew to his daughter.

"I don't know... A car?"

"Aren't you too young to drive, Beatrice?" laughed Philip.

"I asked for a pair of rollers: I hope I would have them!" stated Harry.

"If you were a nice boy, you would have them!" replied Fergie.

"And you, great-grandmother, what would you like for Christmas?" asked William.

"Oh, my boy, I have no idea... This evening together is already enough. Even if..."

She stopped in her tracks, slightly frowning.

"Is anything upset you, Mother?" asked Margaret.

"Oh, dear... I can't find your father's portrait!"

"Which one?" inquired Elizabeth.

"The one I gave him for our twentieth anniversary. I cannot find it!"

"Is this picture important for you?" asked Acherville.

He immediately regretted his question as the Queen Mother looked daggers at him.

"Indeed, Mister Acherville. This portrait of my dear Bertie belonged to the cherished memories I had of him."

Usually, Piero would smirk at the view of his nemesis being roasted by Queen Mum. But he saw a glimpse of hurt and sadness in her eyes, which broke his heart.

Philip often told him how much she loved her dear husband, and she was still mourning him.

Later that evening, all went to bed. As Philip laid down in his bed, Piero joined his lover and cuddled him.

He glanced at the clock, who indicated midnight and muttered:

"Buon Natale, amore mio!"

Smirking, the Duke kissed him and answered:

"Merry Christmas, my love!"

They both fell asleep as the churches' bells rang gently in the air to celebrate Christmas...

The next morning.

The calm over Balmoral was disrupted by running footsteps and peals of laughter.

"Philip?" muttered Piero in a sleepy voice.

"Yes, my love?" answered the prince.

"Brace yourself: here comes the storm!"

The next second, William, Harry, Zara, Peter, and Eugenie bargained into their bedroom and jumped on their bed.

"GRANDPA! NONNO! GET UP, IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY!" they happily yelled.

"Thank you, I have noticed!" growled Philip, still sleepy.

"Did not you forget something?" asked Piero, smiling.

"Ah, right! One, two, three..."

And all the kids said, with their most angelic smiles:

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

"I prefer! Merry Christmas too, kids!" chuckled Philip.

"Come on, Grandpa! The presents are here!" squealed Eugenie before running to the dining hall, followed by her cousins.

Once they are alone, the two lovers laughed.

"Well, they are very excited!" said Philip.

"You bet they are! At least, I hope they would keep this ability to be amazed by every single moment like this!" replied Piero.

"I am sure they will. But, before we join the rest of the family..."

The duke cupped his lover's face between his hands and kissed him.

"Merry Christmas, my darling!"

"Merry Christmas, my love!"

Suddenly, they heard Harry saying impatiently:

"Grandpa, Nonno, please stop kissing and come down!"

"Such authority! I wonder from who he takes this character!" laughed Piero.

They got up and put on their bathrobes before leaving the bedroom. On their way, they greeted the staff and wished a Merry Christmas.

When the pair arrived, all the family was gathered in the dining room, with presents near the Christmas tree.

"Ah, here you are! Merry Christmas!" happily exclaimed Fergie, who greeted them.

"Merry Christmas too, dear Fergie!" gently answered Piero.

"I see that you did not open the presents yet!" stated Philip.

"Well, the children insisted that we waited for everyone to be present before doing so!" explained Diana.

"How lovely!" smiled Piero.

The Queen Mother appeared in the company of Margaret.

"Merry Christmas to all of you!" gently said the matriarch.

"Thank you, Grandmother!" replied Anne.

"Can we open the presents, now? Please?" begged Harry.

"What are you waiting for? Open them!" declared Margaret with a mischievous smile.

All opened their presents and discovered what they received. Harry was thrilled to see he finally received his rollers.

Meanwhile, Grace was spoiled with many plushies and other toys.

At the same time, Margaret thanked Piero for the lovely bracelet he offered her.

"Darling, you did not need to spoil me like that!"

"Only the best for a dear friend!" 

Suddenly, Acherville cleared his throat, catching everyone's attention.

"Come on, what did he plan again?" sighed Mark.

Acherville walked towards the Queen Mother and respectfully bowed.

"Your Majesty, it's with a great deference that I bring you this humble present for this Christmas Day!" he said while handing her a wrapped gift.

"A present? For me? Oh, I did not expect it from you, Mister Acherville. Nevertheless, I appreciate the gesture!"

She took it and tore the wrapping paper, revealing an elegant small box. 

"Charming... And may I know the purpose of this present?"

"Well, as your vanity case must be elegant as you, I thought this small box would be perfect for your dentures!"

When she heard that, the Queen Mother was infuriated.

"SUCH IMPERTINENCE! DON'T YOU EVEN DARE BRING PRESENTS, YOU RUDE SYCOPHANT!"

The other adults present stifled their laughter with difficulty. However, the children did not even try to hide their hilarity and cried out of laughter.

As for Acherville, he was mortified: he counted on this present to win the Queen Mother's alliance, and he failed.

Feeling that it was the perfect moment, Piero walked towards the Queen Mum and said with a respectful bow:

"Ma'am, with your permission, I would like to give you my Christmas present!"

Intrigued, the woman asked:

"So, you have a present for me too? Very well, where is it?"

"If you would follow me, please..." gestured the artist.

Puzzled, the former Queen got up and followed Piero while the other royals looked at each other, perplexed: what was this famous present?

Meanwhile, Piero and Queen Mum entered the familial gallery portrait. She nearly had an attack when she saw the picture of her husband, which disappeared back to its place!

"How could it be?"

"Well, I have to confess: I was the one who took the portrait!"

She turned to him, confused:

"But why on Earth did you do such a thing?"

Piero started to explain:

"Philip told me how unconditionally you loved your husband and how you cherish every memory of him. And you held this painting dear. So, I decided to restore it as a Christmas present for you."

The Queen Mother stayed silent, unable to say a single word.

The artist, fearing that she was upset, said:

"I understood that you may be mad at me and that you would despise me more. But I just wanted to say that I never faked my respect towards you, and I really admire your sincere love for your late husband..."

Suddenly, she turned to him and bowed her head.

"Mister De Angelis, I shall admit that your present was unexpected. But thanks to your talent and kindness, this portrait seems lively again. Like my dear Bertie was here, with us."

She raised her head, and Piero saw some tears in her eyes:

"Maybe I disapprove of your relationship with Philip, but at least, you never try to claim a place that was never yours. And you always show respect to my husband's legacy. Please, be sure you have all my respect and my gratefulness towards you."

The artist was taken aback: he really did not expect this one! She even granted him her respect!

Slowly, he bowed to her:

"I am glad to see that my work was above your expectations, Your Majesty."

"Thank you, Mister De Angelis..."

They came back to the dining room, where the Queen Mother explained the whole situation to her family.

All were surprised and moved by this gesture... except one, obviously!

Later that day, all the royal family went for a walk in the snowy landscape. 

Walking next to his mother, Harry asked:

"Mum?"

"Yes, darling?"

"When people love each other very much, they get married. Right?"

"It often happens, yes," replied his father.

"Well, in this case... Why Grandpa did not marry Nonno?"

Diana and Charles looked at each other, embarrassed. How to answer this tricky question to a seven-year-old boy?

Luckily, the Prince of Wales started to explain, carefully choosing his words:

"Well, as you may know, Grandpa and Grandma were already married when Grandpa met Nonno..."

"Yes?"

"But it is complicated for the Queen to divorce. So, even if they do not like each other like they used to, they have to stay together for the public's sake."

"But it is not fair!"

"Unfortunately, it is. Also, nowadays, it is still complicated for same-sex couples to publicly love each other. Besides, nobody is ready for a royal man to be in love with another man."

The little prince protested.

"But all this family is ready! And I am ready too, as I accept them!"

Fondly smiling, the Princess of Wales gently ruffled her son's red hair.

"I know, my little ginger. But we need more people to accept. Unfortunately, it takes time, but one day, it would be different if children like you start to fight for this!"

The young boy nodded.

"I guess you're right, mum."

Beatrice asked.

"But, Uncle Charles..."

"Yes, Beatrice?"

"You said that people do not accept same-sex lovers. But then, why people won't accept Nonno and Grandpa?"

Zara replied:

"Because they did not see how amazing they are, and that's a shame!"

"I agree!" added Peter.

Anne and Mark smiled at their children's remarks. 

At the same time, Piero and Philip, who walked at the end of the group, were moved by their grandchildren's speeches.

"They cannot be more perfect..." smiled the artist, wiping away a tear.

"I know, my love. I know..." gently muttered the prince as he held his lover's hand.

This Christmas went better than expected...

February 14th, 1992. In a mansion in the Essex countryside.

Sitting in his studio, Piero was painting portraits of the royal children. He chuckled as he thought how fast they grew up. Indeed, Peter was 15 years old, while his sister Zara would turn 11 in May. As for William and Harry, they will be 10 and 8 soon, while their baby sister, Grace, would celebrate her 1st birthday in July. Little Beatrice went on her 5th birthday, while little Eugenie would be 2 the following month.

Those children brought happiness in Piero's life: even if they were not related by blood, he loved them as if they were his own family members. And the feelings were reciprocated: all of the children called him Nonno Piero. They were so cute!

He enjoyed taking them to museums or teaching them artistic activities and sometimes brought along his nephews and nieces with him.

Once he finished the paintings, Piero put his brushes away and gazed at his work, satisfied. He was sure it would please Philip's children.

Thinking of his lover, the artist sighed: he wondered what the prince planned for their Valentine's day. Unfortunately, Philip won't be able to be here until the late afternoon, as he had some official events to attend.

But Piero had the habit of suffering in silence: after all, it was the case for twenty years.

The Italian-British smiled: twenty years together. Time flies so fast...

Cleaning up his painting tools, he went to the bathroom and took a shower before putting on his best clothes for his lover.

Satisfied with the result, Piero decided to entertain himself by reading some book in his room while waiting for his lover to come home.

Buried himself in his reading, he did not hear his lover coming back... until he heard some music coming from the garden.

"What the...?"

He opened the window and nearly screamed of surprise when he saw Philip, dressed in his best suit, gently smiling at him. At his feet, a radio playing a familiar tune, and the prince started to sing:

Le ciel bleu sur nous peut s'effondrer,

Et la terre peut bien s'écrouler.

Peu m'importe, si tu m'aimes

Je me fous du monde entier!

Tant que l'amour inondera mes matins,

Tant que mon corps frémira sous tes mains.

Peu m'importent les problèmes,

Mon amour puisque tu m'aimes.

The artist was amazed: he did know Philip knew how to sing! And he was surprisingly a good singer. Smiling, he leaned on the small balcony while the prince kept singing:

J'irais jusqu'au bout du monde,

Je me ferais teindre en blond,

Si tu me le demandais!

J'irais décrocher la lune,

J'irais voler la fortune,

Si tu me le demandais.

Je renierais ma patrie,

Je renierais mes amis,

Si tu me le demandais.

On peut bien rire de moi,

Je ferais n'importe quoi,

Si tu me le demandais.

Philip could not help but smirk at his lover: it seemed that his idea worked. Honestly, he was lucky that one of Margaret's friends was a voice teacher. It was out of the question to sing off-key for his sweetheart, especially during Valentine's day.

With those thoughts in his mind, he started the most emotional part of the song:

Si un jour la vie t'arrache à moi,

Si tu meurs, que tu sois loin de moi

Peu m'importe, si tu m'aimes,

Car moi je mourrais aussi!

Nous aurons pour nous l'éternité

Dans le bleu de toute l'immensité.

Dans le ciel, plus de problèmes

Mon amour, crois-tu qu'on s'aime?

It was true: Philp would never want to live any longer if Piero was torn away from him. Since their first meeting in 1972, he knew deep inside that the young man would become an essential part of his life. 

He owed him his happiness and life. After all, he tended the emotional wounds of his children and put this family together again.

But what mattered the most for him was that the artist made him believe in love again: when his marriage crumbled down, Philip thought he would never find someone to give his affection to. 

But here they were, and that was all that mattered.

Dieu réunit ceux qui s'aiment.

When he opened his eyes, Philip was surprised to notice that Piero was not at the balcony. 

"Let's hope I did not scare him with my poor performance."

Suddenly, he heard the door opened, and Piero rushed into his arms, kissing him feverishly.

Chuckling, Philip kissed him back, enjoying the presence of the man he loved the most in his arms.

When they had to take a break, the prince whispered:

"Happy 20th Valentine's Day, angelo mio!"

"I knew you would never forget it!" smiled the artist.

"How could I? You illuminated my life for twenty years, now. Remind me to thank Margaret for that!"

"You will do it tomorrow, my love. Now, what are we going to do?"

Philip smiled.

"Let's go back inside, shall we? I had a little surprise for you!"

The pair went back to their house and headed to the living room.

Piero gasped in surprise when he discovered the beautiful bouquet of red roses that took center stage on the table.

"Philip... It's amazing!"

"I wanted something simple yet elegant for you. Should I precise that there are twenty roses in this bouquet?"

"You did not miss the detail, right?"

"I am a man of precision."

He cleared his throat.

"Piero, there is something I wanted to give you..."

The latter raised an eyebrow: what could Philip give him?

"What is it?"

"Just before I give you this present, do you remember the little speech of Harry about you and I not getting married?"

"Yes?"

"Well, I would try to make up for this mistake..."

He went on one knee and pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket.

Piero clapped his hand on his mouth, astonished. 

"Oh, Dio Mio! Philip..."

"I wished that, in another life, we would be able to show our love and unite our lives... And I also wished that I was around your age and not being a septuagenarian..."

"Oh, don't be harsh about yourself: you still look good!"

"I appreciate your kindness... Anyway! Even if we cannot live the way we want, I never regret having you here with me. And as our grandchildren said, it was not fair that I cannot officially give you my last name."

He opened the small box, revealing a beautiful silver ring with the coat of arms of the Duke engraved on it. 

"So, Piero Armando Raphael De Angelis, would you give me the greatest honor to be a non-official Mountbatten?"

Trying not to cry, Piero nervously laughed as he answered:

"Do you really need to ask the question? Yes, I do!"

Relieved, the prince put the ring on the artist's finger and got up.

Then, he wrapped his arms around the artist's waist and gently kissed his lips.

Nothing compared to the love he felt for this angel, and he planned to keep him at his side as long as he lived.

April 28th, 1994. Kensington Palace

Philip and Margaret enjoyed a horse-drawn carriage stroll around the large estate of Kensington on this beautiful spring day.

"Finally, a sunny day! I thought it would never happen!" happily sighed Margaret, adjusting her hat.

"You're right! At least, I have a day off, and the far I am from Elizabeth and her boot-licker, the better I feel!!"

"So am I! God, he pisses me off every time I see his face!"

The prince chuckled: he enjoyed badmouthing Acherville behind his back with Margaret. 

As she was his ally, his sister-in-law never missed an occasion to slander about their enemy in common.

"Anyway, let's enjoy this wonderful moment! Speaking of that, I wished the rest of the team was with us!"

"Except the children who are at school or kindergarten, where are the others?"

"Let's see... Charles visits Scotland, while Andrew and Fergie pay a visit to charity work in Manchester. Your wife and her jackass-in-chief greet the new ambassador of Morocco. Diana and Piero are currently visiting a hospital for children. Mum had tea with one of her friends, Anne and Mark are with the Olympic team... and Edward has his day off too!"

She mischievously smirked.

"And I know what he is doing!"

"Tell me more..."

"He has a date, sir!"

Philip nearly fell off his seat.

"He has a girlfriend?"

"You bet he has! He and Sophie Rhys-Jones - that's her name - are together for a few months!"

The prince smiled, amused.

"Well, he managed to keep it a secret from me. But I guess he has the right to have his own life: after all, he will be thirty!"

He turned to Margaret.

"Speaking of upcoming events, are you excited to marry your daughter?"

"You bet I am! David is a nice guy: she picked the right man!"

"I'm glad for her!"

The two fancied the calm surroundings when an idea popped into Philip's mind.

"Maggie..."

"Yes?"

"I have an idea..."

"I'm in, no matter what. What do you plan this time?"

The Duke smirked.

"Well, what if we pick up the children from school... with the horse carriage?"

She laughed.

"Like old times? I'm in, Philip! Just before, can we go back to the house? I need more appropriate clothes!"

"Off we go, Margaret!"

An hour later, they were on their way to the schools, with new clothes.  While Philip drove the carriage, Margaret checked the schools' addresses.

"Let me see... The first school on our way is where are Zara and Will!"

"Here we go!"

On their way, the royals were met by curious bystanders who greeted them.

When they arrived at the school, all the pupils were amazed by the scene: the prince consort and the Countess of Snowdon driving a horse carriage.

One of the teachers managed to ask:

"Your Highnesses... Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yes: could you tell me where are my grandchildren?"

At the same time, the two teenagers went out of their classrooms and gasped at the scene.

"GRANDPA? AUNT MARGARET?"

"In-person, children. Now, get in there: we have to pick the rest of the tribe!"

Giggling excitedly, Zara and Will rushed to the carriage and jumped inside, under the cheers of their classmates.

Once the teenagers were settled, Philip pulled on the reins, and the carriage followed its path.

Their next stage was Peter's high school. At their arrival, Margaret noticed the young man talking with some classmates. She smirked as she saw the girls blushing and fidgeting the edges of their skirts while talking to her great-nephew.

"Isn't that sweet? This boy is a heartbreaker!"

"I guess so... But it's time to go home! PETER!" called out Philip.

The young man turned around and waved:

"I arrive!"

Peter excused himself towards his friends before he went near the carriage and jumped in it.

"Here I am!"

"Perfect, young man! Now, who is the next one?"

"It's Harry and Beatrice, and then we can pick up Grace and Eugenie!"

The youngest royal grandchildren were over the moon when they saw their grandpapa and their great-aunt picking them from school with a horse-drawn carriage.

Soon after, the group went back to Kensington Palace when Margaret exclaimed:

"Hey, I have an idea!"

"What?"

"What if we pick up Diana and Piero? After all, it's on our way!"

The prince shrugged.

"If you say so..."

"Don't play that game with me, old man! I know that you are secretly pleased with that idea..."

Philip struggled to not smirk.

"If you start sweet talking to me, how could I resist?"

His sister-in-law grinned triumphally.

"I knew it! Alright, let's go to the Evelina Children's Hospital!"

Meanwhile, Piero and Diana finished their visit, guided by a physician.

"Your Highness, Mister De Angelis, I would like to thank you for this significant visit in the name of the staff."

"It's us who should thank you, Doctor Lewis. You and your medical team do an amazing job here." replied the princess.

"She is right: all the recent signs of progress made in research are full of hope!" added the artist.

A young nurse came near them.

"Excuse me, Your Highness ..."

"Yes?"

"There is the Duke of Edinburgh and Princess Margaret waiting for you outside with the children."

"WHAT?" exclaimed Diana and Piero, who rushed outside to find that the nurse told the truth.

"Well, dear daughter-in-law, admit that you weren't expecting this?"

"No, indeed!" laughed the Princess of Wales.

"I was not told that we would be entitled to a princely carriage!" Piero smiled.

"Look, Mom: Grandpa picked us up from school like that!" exclaimed Grace.

"My God, that must have caused a sensation!" chuckled the artist.

Piero glanced at Philip with a slight smile on his lips: he would not be surprised that his lover had this idea.

"Come on, both of you: we're going back to Kensington Palace!" Margaret declared.

Immediately, the two friends boarded the carriage, and the small group set off for the return trip.

This vision of the royal family caused the amazement and joy of the people, who greeted them with honks.

For their part, the children waved their hands in the direction of motorists.

Obviously, such an event attracted the curiosity of several journalists who attempted to interview Prince Philip and his family.

"So, Your Highness, how do you feel as you take this walk?"

The prince consort smiled:

"At the moment, I'm not the queen's husband. I'm just a grandfather who came to pick up his grandchildren from school."

"In a horse-drawn carriage?"

"So what? It is an ecological transport, and that makes the children happy!"

"Moreover, it allows us to take advantage of this beautiful spring day!" Margaret added.

Suddenly, a car driven by students arrived near them. One of the passengers opened the window:

"Hi, there! Listen in: it's a bop!"

The other passengers opened their windows, and the royals heard the radio playing Easy Lover by Phil Collins.

"They have a nice music taste!" laughed Piero.

As for the children, they started moving on their seats, shaking their heads in sync with the music.

"Have fun, children!" smiled Diana.

The Duke of Edinburgh briefly glanced at his passengers with a tender smile: if only he could have more sweet moments like that with his loved ones.

As for Margaret, she closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the spring sun on her face. This feeling of freedom was a blessing for the young sister of the Queen. Speaking of the latter, she wondered how her sister would react when she would see the images... 

Half an hour later, they arrived at Kensington Palace. As they were about to cross the portal, a journalist asked them:

"Your Highnesses, can we have your opinion about the newly elected president of South Africa, Nelson Mandela?"

Philip turned and shouted:

"I wish him all the best: after all, he had a lot of work to do!"

Upon those words, the family entered the park, and the portal closed its doors.

Once they were far from the crowd, the royals went out of the carriage.

"That was so cool! Can we start it again?" asked Peter.

"I'm afraid that your grandmother would not approve!" stated Margaret.

"Let's go inside: I am sure Howard must have prepared his delicious caramel biscuits!"

"YEAH! CARAMEL!" exclaimed Harry, Grace, and Eugenie, who rushed to the mansion.

While the rest of the family went inside, Piero and Philip stayed alone.

"I guess it was your idea?"

"Indeed!"

The artist smirked.

"You had a brilliant idea..."

The prince gently held his hand.

"I just wanted to please my grandchildren... and my secret husband!"

"I am flattered!" muttered the British-Italian man before kissing his lover.

As they enjoyed this sweet moment, they heard William saying:

'Mum, they are kissing again!"

The two stopped, and Philip started to run after his grandson, a smirk on his lips:

"Come here, you little..."

The 12-year-old boy shrieked with laughter before trying to escape from his grandfather. As for Piero, he gently grinned as he saw his family happy. 

The artist noticed some change since a few years after he started dating Philip: he felt that the atmosphere was happier and more welcoming. He must credit Diana and the grandchildren for this difference.

"Nonno! Come inside: it's tea time!" called Grace.

"I arrive, my little fairy!" replied the man who joined the rest of the family.

Meanwhile, in Buckingham Palace.

In the main living room of the royal palace, Elizabeth enjoyed a steaming cup of tea with her mother and Charles.

"How was the meeting with the new ambassador of Morocco?" asked the Queen Mother.

"It went well: Mister Haddaoui is a pleasant gentleman! Speaking of that, he gave me a message from Prince Mohammed. He wanted some news about his cherished goddaughter!" explained Elizabeth.

"That is very kind of him: I will write to him later!" replied Charles.

Suddenly, they heard the BBC anchorman saying a piece of unusual news:

**"Today, an unexpected view happened in London, while the Queen met the Moroccan ambassador: indeed, His Royal Highness Prince Philip was spotted driving a horse-drawn carriage, in the company of Princess Margaret, the Princess of Wales, his grandchildren, and Piero de Angelis, the famous artist..."**

The Queen nearly choked on her tea.

"WHAT?"

To prove the statement, the channel broadcasted footage of the royals in the carriage.

**"It looked like the youngest members of the Royal Family enjoyed this unique moment as they were spotted dancing on some music played by bystanders. At the same time, some of our colleagues tried to interview the prince consort. 

The Duke of Edinburgh replied that he was only a grandfather who picked his beloved grandchildren from school. When he was asked about President Mandela's election, he answered that he only wished success to the new leader of South Africa. 

Many people praised this idea, saying that it showed a relaxed side of the royal family..."**

"HOW DARE THEY?" screamed the monarch.

As for Charles, he smirked:

"Well, at least, they looked happy!"

"Of course: you praised everything your father and this... man do!" scoffed his mother.

Exasperated, the Crown Prince snapped:

"Stop badmouthing Piero! At least, he showed me the parental love you denied me!"

"Charles! Please, calm down!" exclaimed his grandmother.

The Queen stayed silent, but the harsh words of her son opened her eyes: unfortunately, she was not a mother in the eyes of her children anymore. As she was not a wife in the eyes of Philip...

So, when she laid in her bed that night, she sighed:

"Am I only a queen, and not a mother?"

Acherville held her:

"Don't bother! They would never compete with you. Forget Philip and his little lover! One day, they will fall apart!"

She nodded but stayed unconvinced: how long will she be alienated from her own flesh and blood? A little voice in her head yelled at her that Acherville was no stranger to this situation...

March 18th, 1996. Los Angeles, The United States.

The least that can be said was that Philip, Margaret, Diana, Charles, William, Harry, Grace, and Piero were warmly welcomed in the United States. Indeed, they were popular in America, especially Piero, whose works of art sell like hotcakes.

All the Hollywood celebrities fought to have the privilege to speak with the royals. Richard Gere, Sigourney Weaver, and many famous names tried to meet them.

But only a legendary pair was honored entertaining those favorite guests in their villa: Marlon Brando and Marylin Monroe, one of the most glamourous couples of Hollywood.

In their seventies, the two legendary actors never lost their glamour neither their fame. And they loved each other like they never had before.

They became friends with Piero when the latter went to the United States to present his creations. At the time, Marlon wanted to buy one of his paintings to give to his wife. They get on well, and the British-Italian artist became a good friend of them. It went to the point that Marylin became a friend of Diana and the godmother of Grace.

In the Rose Charm Villa, all sat in the living room, enjoying a good drink.  Piero spotted loving pictures of the couple with their children and grandchildren. 

"What do you think of Los Angeles, Your Highness?" asked Marlon while he sipped on his whiskey glass.

"Very lively...and noisy!" smirked Philip.

"Father!" exclaimed Charles.

"Did you really need to say that?" sighed Piero while elbowing his lover.

Diana gently laughed.

"At least, he is honest about it!"

"And you, Mister Brando: what is your opinion about England?" asked Margaret.

"Old, rainy, and boring!"

"MARLON!" exclaimed his wife as she slapped him on the hand.

"Ouch! But darling, I am just joking!" 

"That was not funny!"

William and Harry snorted with laughter: it was funny seeing adults bickering!

As for Grace, she was sitting near her godmother and looked at the scene with enjoyment. 

"Is your husband always like that, Auntie?"

"Oh, my poor little butterfly: you have no idea! He makes me crazy every day!" sighed the actress.

"Men are all the same!" smirked Margaret.

"MAGGIE!"

"What? It is the truth!"

"I am a man, and I feel offended!" replied Charles.

"WE ARE NOT MEN YET, AND WE ARE OFFENDED TOO!" added William and Harry.

All laughed when someone knocked at the door.

"Come in!" answered Marlon.

A maid appeared at the door:

"Excuse me, Ma'am, but you have guests!"

"Oh, really? Thank you, Georgia: let them in, please!" replied Marylin.

The maid stepped aside and appeared Grace of Monaco and Jane Russell.

Delighted to see her friends, Marylin got up from her seat and greeted them with open arms.

"Grace, Jane! What a pleasant surprise!"

"Hello, Blondie! Long time no see!" joked Jane.

"We heard that our dear royals are here, so Jane and I thought that we can pay you a visit!" explained Grace.

"Both of you are always welcomed here! Please, take a seat!"

The two newcomers greeted the rest of the guests.

"Oh, dear Piero! It's been a long time since my visit to England!" smiled Grace.

"A very long time, indeed!"

"Grace showed me the portrait you created for her birthday: I am jealous!" laughed Mrs. Russell.

Piero felt light-hearted: he never expected being surrounded by the three actresses he admired the most! If Philip was not near him, the artist would have passed out!

Speaking of the latter, the prince smirked when he saw his lover awed in front of his idols.

At the same time, the three actresses recalled good memories of their careers.

"Oh, do you remember the shooting of Merry Girls?" inquired Jane.

"Oh, my favorite movie!" exclaimed Diana.

"I really enjoy this movie: it is so funny and brilliantly written!" added Charles.

"It is one of my preferred old Hollywood movies!" outdid Piero.

Grace explained:

"It was the only movie we shot together... and my only comedy!"

"We had so much fun on set!" smiled Jane.

"Oh, one of the best moments of my career!" added Marylin.

"You were astonishing in that movie!" smiled Marlon while kissing her hand.

"You flatterer!" she laughed.

They spend the rest of the day in the garden, enjoying a delicious dinner and looking at the Californian sunset.

His elbows resting on the low wall, Philip looked at the scenery with a relaxed smile on his lips. He smirked as he saw Marylin and Piero gently chatting.

"A pleasant view, isn't it?"

The prince turned and saw Marlon Brando joining him, a Martini glass in his hand. The actor smiled as he spotted his wife laughing with the artist.

"We are both lucky, huh?"

"What do you mean?" asked Philip.

Brando sighed before explaining:

"A long time ago, I only have to snap my fingers to have all the women I want. But I was not happy: I felt something was missing in my life."

A sly grin appeared on his face.

"And then, she appeared like a silver lining. Beautiful, smiling, calm, and loving. She was like the sun after the storm. She kissed my wounds and calmed my fears... She gave me beautiful children and offered a better life than I expected."

"I understand what you mean... I feel the same since Piero accepted to be with me... I owe him so much!"

Marlon raised his glass.

"Then, let's have a toast to the loves of our lives!"

The prince smirked and clinked his glass on Marlon's drink.

"To the loves of our lives!"

As they enjoyed the peaceful Californian evening, Philip and Marlon talked about the future. But no one had a clue about what could happen...

August 31st, 1997. Paris, France.

On the Parisian night, a black car drove fast on the roads. Onboard, Charles, Diana, and Piero came back from an official dinner organized by President Jacques Chirac. 

This getaway helped Diana and Piero to take their minds off a painful memory. A month ago, they attended the burial of their dear friend Gianni Versace, the iconic fashion designer. The Italian man was killed by a deranged man in Miami for unknown reasons. 

Both the princess and the artist were devastated by this tragic loss. And to think that he was already designing Grace's wedding dress... It was not surprising, as he adored the little girl as if she was his own.

As for Piero, he lost a dear friend and a fellow Italian. The artist remembered how much he cried in Philip's arms as he heard the news on television.

To help them cope with this tragedy, Charles suggested they accompany him to France. 

This strategy seemed to work, and the Prince of Wales was proud of his plan.

On their way back to their hotel, they were accompanied by Dodi Al-Fayed, the son of wealthy business Mohamed Al-Fayed, one of the other guests at the dinner. The Egyptian film producer has a showy character, which displeased Charles.

"When we will arrive at the Hotel Ritz, I'll show the art collection my father displays in his private room! I am sure a man with artistic talents such as Mister De Angelis would appreciate it!"

"You must be right, Mister Al-Fayed!" politely answered the latter.

"What kind of works of art your father owns?" asked Diana.

Al-Fayed showed his flirtiest smile and answered:

"Let your imagination do the work, dear Princess. But I am sure no masterpiece doesn't compete with you!"

The Princess of Wales blushed with embarrassment while her husband scowled at the Al-Fayed heir. As for Piero, he rolled his eyes: he started to find the man unpleasant.

Suddenly, Diana spotted paparazzi chasing them on motorcycles.

"I must be dreaming! Here they are AGAIN!" she scoffed.

"They are like weed: unstoppable and annoying!" snickered Charles.

"What a lovely metaphor!" laughed Dodi.

The driver started speeding, which puzzled Piero.

"Aren't we going a bit too fast?" he asked.

No answer.

"Excuse me, could you slow down?" inquired Dodi.

But the car went faster and faster as they entered the Pont de l'Alma tunnel.

"Charles, we are going too fast!" panicked Diana.

"SLOW DOWN!" yelled Charles.

Even their bodyguard barked at the driver to slow down. But it was too late, as they plowed into a pillar.

"WATCH OUT!"

And the car violently collided head-on with the pillar, half-destroying it.

All the passengers felt the intensity of the impact and suffered many injuries.

While Dodi fell unconscious, Diana, Piero, and Charles stayed conscious.

"Charles? Piero? Are you alright?" asked Diana with a trembling voice.

"I am here, my love... Even if my ribcage might be broken!" groaned Charles.

"I... I don't feel my back, but I am alive..." whined Piero.

Both men turned to Diana and noticed her bruised forehead and her bleeding legs. She seemed shocked but alive.

"Darling, look at me! Stay with us: the emergency services will be here soon!" Charles reassured her.

"But what about the driver? The bodyguard? And Mr. Al-Fayed?"

Piero glanced at the driver and the bodyguard.

"I can't tell if they are still alive or not... And as for Mister Al-Fayed, he passed out!"

Suddenly, a bunch of young French people, around their twenties, rushed near them. 

One of them, a black guy, asked:

"Hé, là-dedans! Vous allez bien?" (Hey there! Are you OK?)

Charles managed to ask:

"S'il vous plaît, Monsieur, appelez une ambulance!" (Please, sir: call an ambulance!)

Another youngster, an Arab-descent girl, peaked at the passengers and exclaimed:

"Oh, la vache! Mais ce sont le Prince Charles et la Princess Diana! Et lui, c'est Piero De Angelis, le célèbre artiste!" (Holy cow! They are Prince Charles and Princess Diana! And the other guy must be Piero De Angelis, the famous artist!)

"Lui-même, enchanté!" (Himself, nice to meet you!) grimaced the latter.

The young girl jumped near Piero and gently said:

"Pas de panique, monsieur: mon ami a appelé les pompiers! Ils vont vite arriver!" (Don't worry, sir: my friend called the firemen! They will be here in a minute!)

Meanwhile, the other youngsters pushed the photographers away:

"Dégagez, bande de connards! Vous pourriez les aider au lieu de prendre des photos!" (Move, you morons! Instead of taking pictures, you could help them!)

"Et foutez le camp, l'ambulance arrive!" (Get out of the way! The ambulance is about to arrive!)

At the same time, bystanders looked at the accident scene with horrified looks on their faces. Some of them insulted the photographers, blaming them for the accident.

In the car, Diana struggled to breathe. Trying to reassure her, the young black man took her hand:

"Du calme, ça va aller! Vous entendez l'ambulance? Elle arrive!" (Calm down, everything will be alright! Do you hear that? The ambulance arrives!)

The princess stammered:

"William... Harry... Grace..."

Guessing that she talked about her children, he gently replied:

"Vous en faites pas, ils vont bien!" (Don't worry, they are fine!)

"Aidez-la, je vous en prie..." (Please, help her!) muttered Charles as he passed out.

As for Piero, his vision started to blur. He fought to stay awake, but he felt his body giving up.

As he fell into unconsciousness, he saw the face of Philip...

°°"I am sorry, amore mio..."°°

Meanwhile, at Balmoral Castle.

The Queen was sleeping in her bed, with Acherville at her side. Suddenly someone hurriedly knocked on the door of her bedroom.

Worried, she got up and opened it to see her butler with a concerned expression on his face:

"What happened?"

"Ma'am, I am afraid that I have terrible news from Paris about their Royal Highnesses and Mister De Angelis..."

"What have they done again?" grumbled Acherville.

At the same time, Philip, Margaret, and the Queen Mother arrived, panicked.

"What's wrong?" inquired the matriarch.

The servant took his breath before revealing:

"Our ambassador in Paris just called me to say that the Prince and the Princess of Wales, as well as Mister De Angelis, are involved in a terrible car accident!"

Elizabeth gasped in horror while Queen Mum fainted in the arms of a maid. Margaret stayed silent, tears falling in her cheeks. As for Philip, he felt like the sky fell on his head: it cannot be!

Acherville took his head between his hands and muttered:

"May Lord help us..."

He worried that the eventual deaths of Charles and Diana would break Elizabeth's heart. However, he cannot help but think of his potential triumph if Piero succumbed to his wounds. Finally, this prick would be out of the picture once and for all!

Suddenly, the Queen exclaimed:

"Where are the children?"

"They are in their beds, Ma'am. They are soundly asleep!" stated the butler.

"Good. Don't wake them up until further notice. Everyone in the living room, now! We have a situation to handle!"

On their way to the living room, all stayed quiet. They were all scared and worried. If the worst happened, they would not know how to tell the children that they lost their parents and their Nonno in this tragedy...

They sat on the couches, Margaret holding the arms of her mother and Philip. She stuttered:

"How? How could it happen?"

She turned to her mother with teary eyes:

"Oh, Mum! I don't know if I would cope..."

"They will be fine, Maggie. Do not worry!" her mother gently smiled while holding her hand.

As for Philip, he held back the tears that threatened to fall. It reminded him of painful memories...

He silently prayed:

"Mother... Cecile... Wherever you are... Please, protect them! I cannot bear to lose other loved ones in an accident!"

Paris, in the morning.

Piero slowly opened his eyes, a painful headache still hitting him.

He noticed that he was in a white room and concluded that he was in a hospital.

He heard footsteps, and a young nurse arrived near him:

"Comment vous sentez-vous, Monsieur De Angelis?" (How do you feel, Mister De Angelis?)

"Ou... Ou suis-je?" (Where... Where am I?)

"Vous êtes à l'hôpital de la Pitié-Salpêtrière. On vous a amené ici après l'accident de cette nuit." (You are at the Pitié-Salpêtrière Hospital. You have been brought here after you accident, last night.)

The artist remembered everything. The dinner, the paparazzi who were chasing them, the collision, the feel of blood on his body... 

He asked:

"Ou est Charles? Ou est Diana?" (Where Charles is? Where Diana is?)

"We are here, Piero!"

Piero turned his head and saw Charles and Diana, wounded but alive. He let out some tears of relief:

"Thank God!"

He wiped his eyes and asked:

"How do you feel?"

"A bit dizzy, but apart from that, I feel better!" answered the Prince of Wales.

"I recover from this horrible night!" replied the Princess with a tired smile.

Suddenly, a physician entered the room. He said with a strong French accent:

"Good morning. I am Doctor Bruno Riou. I was the doctor who took care of you after your accident. As you seemed all awake, I come to check if everything is alright..."

"Excuse me, Doctor?"

"Yes, Princess?"

"Do you have any news of Mister Al-Fayed? And what about our driver and bodyguard?"

The doctor shook his head.

"Your Highness, I have the regret to tell you that your driver and your bodyguard died shortly after the arrival of the ambulance men. As for Mister Al-Fayed, he succumbed to his wounds after he arrived in this service. I am sorry..."

"Oh, Lord! Poor of them!" Diana cried as she covered her mouth.

Charles reached her hand and gently squeezing it reassuringly.

"My God..." muttered Piero.

He turned to the doctor.

"What about us?"

"Well, His Highness the Prince of Wales suffered a broken wrist and some cracked ribs. As for the Princess of Wales, she has a sprained ankle and some concussions! And you, Mister De Angelis, your back is aching, your knee is sprained, and you have a broken arm! We can say that the three of you are very lucky to make it out of this tragedy!"

"Indeed, Doctor Riou..." nodded Charles.

He exclaimed:

"What about the youngsters?"

"The youngsters?"

"I think my husband talks about the young people who tried to help us..."

"Ah, them!"

The surgeon chuckled.

"Well, they are fine, and they are hopping up and down with impatience as they want to see you! They are doing it for two hours!"

"Are they?" asked Piero.

They heard a voice:

"Mais laissez-nous les voir, putain!" (Let us see them, damn it!)

"Ah indeed, they are!" chuckled Diana.

"Doctor Riou..." asked Charles

"Yes?"

"Please, let them in: we want to thank them for their kindness towards us!"

"If you want, Your Highness..."

As Riou was about to leave, Diana called:

"Doctor Riou..."

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"Thank you."

The physician smiled:

"I only did my duty, Your Highness. Now, I leave with your visitors!"

He stepped aside and let the youngsters enter the room. They arrived with flowers and cakes.

"Salut! Comment ça va?" (Hiya! How you do?) asked the black guy.

"Surveille tes manières, Issah! Ce sont des célébrités, pas tes potes!" (Watch your manners, Issah! They are royals and famous people, not your buddies!) scolded his friend, the Arabic girl.

"Ne vous en faites pas pour ça, mademoiselle: j'ai entendu bien pire!" (Do not worry about it, miss: I have heard worse!) smirked Charles.

"Tu vois, Leïla: ils sont sympas!" (See, Leïla: they are nice!) answered Issah.

"Vous vous sentez mieux?" (Do you feel better?) asked a Caucasian guy.

"Oui, nous allons mieux. Merci, Monsieur..." (Yes, we are feeling better. Thank you, Mister...) asked Diana.

"Frédéric, mais mes amis m'appellent Fred." (I am Frederic, but my friends called me Fred)

"Votre voix m'est familière: n'est-ce pas vous qui avez insulté les photographes?" (Your voice sounds familiar: isn't you who threw insults to the photographers?) inquired Piero.

"J'avoue, c'est moi! Mais ils l'ont mérité!" (I admit it: it was me! But they deserved it!) 

"On nous a dit pour votre chauffeur et votre garde du corps, ainsi que pour l'autre personne avec vous. On est désolés pour ça..." (We heard about your driver and your bodyguard, plus the other guy in the car. We're sorry about that..." politely said a Asian girl.

"Nous apprécions votre sympathie, Mademoiselle..." (We appreciate your sympathy, Miss...)

"Jade Zhao, Votre Altesse." (Jade Zhao, Your Highness).

Suddenly, a nurse rushed into the room.

"Pardon de vous interrompre, mais le Président Chirac, la Première Dame, et Monsieur Tiberi, le maire de Paris, souhaitent vous voir. Dois-je les laisser entrer?" (Sorry to interrupt you, but President Chirac, First Lady Bernadette Chirac and Mister Tiberi, Mayor of Paris, wish to see you. Shall I let them in?)

"Laissez les venir, mais ces jeunes gens restent ici!" (You can let them in, but those young people stay!) declared Charles.

"Entendu, Votre Altesse!" (Understood, Your Highness!)

A few minutes later, President Chirac entered the room, accompanied by his wife and the mayor of Paris.

"I am relieved to see you alive and recovering, my dear friends!" declared the French President.

"It is very kind of you to visit us!" replied Piero.

"That is the least we can do, Mister De Angelis!" stated Mrs. Chirac.

Diana cleared her throat before gesturing at the young French people:

"Mister Chirac, those young people here helped us while we were trapped in the car. They provided us help and kindness before the arrival of the emergency services. We owe them a lot!"

The president turned to Issah, Leïla, Frederic, and Jade who looked shy.

"Jeunes gens, vous avez accompli un acte héroïque. En portant secours à ces personnes, vous avez montré le grand coeur qui bat dans la potrine du peuple français. Je tenais à vous adresser mon admiration et mes respects pour votre action." (Young people, you heroically acted yesterday. By rescueing those persons, you showed how big-hearted the People of France is. I wanted to express you my admiration and my respect for your action.)

"Euh... Merci, M'sieur le président!" (Thanks, Mister President!) answered the youngsters, intimidated.

Piero, Diana, and Charles gently smiled. Now, they longed to come back home...

At the same time, at Balmoral Castle.

A maid rushed to the living room and barged into the room where were Elizabeth, Acherville, Margaret, the Queen Mother, and Philip.

In the meantime, they were joined by Anne, Andrew, and Edward. The three siblings feared for their brother, their sister-in-law, and their dear friend.

"Your Majesties, Your Highnesses... and Mister Acherville. Forgive me for this intrusion, but I have some news from Paris!"

"Please, tell me they survived!" begged the Queen Mother.

"Indeed, Your Majesty: I have excellent news. Prince Charles, Princess Diana, and Mister De Angelis survived the accident!"

All let out a sigh of relief. Margaret sobbed of happiness in the arms of Philip. As for the matriarch of the Royal Family, she thanked God for saving her grandson.

Elizabeth let a few tears rolling on her cheeks: she felt grateful to God for sparing the lives of Charles, Diana, and Piero.

She asked the maid:

"May I have the whereabouts of the other passengers?"

"Unfortunately, Your Majesty, they all passed away."

The Queen nodded before ordering:

"Provide me the addresses of their families: I will write them letters of condolences!"

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

While the maid came back to work, Anne cried in the arms of Andrew:

"They are alive... Thank God, they are alive!"

"Yes, they are!" muttered her brother, fighting back the tears.

A few hours later, Elizabeth was at her desk, writing the letters of condolences she addressed to the mourning families.

Acherville knocked at the door:

"May I come in?"

"Yes."

Her lover arrived near her.

"How do you feel?"

"I feel... relieved. I would not know what to do if they did not survive!"

"I see..." muttered Acherville.

She looked at him, puzzled.

"Is there something bothering you, Roger?"

He smirked.

"Nothing gets past you, Lizzie."

"Could you tell me what upsets you?"

Acherville cleared his throat before explaining:

"Listen: I am happy for you that Charles and Diana survived. The children will be so happy..."

"Cut it out and tell me the truth!"

He sighed and said:

"I might sound cruel and heartless, but it is a shame that De Angelis is still alive!"

Elizabeth jumped out of her seat, shocked.

"HOW DARE YOU SAYING SUCH A THING?"

"Come on, Lilibeth: you cannot stand his sight! Remember that he stole your husband and rose your children against you!"

"I am aware, thank you! But I would never, NEVER, wish him dead!"

Acherville grinned.

"Don't lie to yourself! You wanted him out of the picture for a long time! Would you dare to tell me that you never wish something bad happen to De Angelis?"

He regretted his remark when she furiously glanced at him:

"Do you think that I am like you? That I would dare to break my family for my pleasure? No, Roger: I am not you and thank God, I will never be!"

She breathed.

"Look what I did for you: I alienated myself from my children, my sister, and my grandchildren. I made a mistake a long time ago, but I was too blind, or too proud, to acknowledge it..."

She glared daggers at him.

"And you, instead of helping me, you pushed my family away. You treated them poorly, mocked and bullied them! No wonder why they all prefered Piero De Angelis over you!"

The Queen calmed herself. Then, she declared with a firm tone:

"Roger, I think we should have a long conversation. And I must warn you: it will be unpleasant..."

A few days later.

When he entered his house, Piero felt safe: it was good to be home again. He sat down on his couch and relaxed. 

The artist was tired: he spent a long time seeing his family. His poor parents, his siblings, and his nephews and nieces wanted to see him. They all panicked when they heard about the accident in Paris. But now, Piero wanted some peace before he would see the Royal Family tomorrow.

As he dozed off on the couch, he heard the door opening. Intrigued, he got up and discovered Philip standing in the room.

"Philip?"

"Hello, my love." muttered the prince.

Piero tried to come closer, but Philip was faster and held him in his arms.

"You should not move your leg. After all, you have a sprained knee..."

"Oh, it's okay..."

The artist felt the embrace becoming tighter. Then, he heard soft sobs coming from his lover.

"Philip? Philip, what's wrong?"

The British-Italian artist slightly stepped back and saw tears flowing down the cheeks of his prince.

"My God, Philip! What happens?"

To be honest, it was the first time Piero saw Philip crying like this. He already saw him being sad or upset, but he never saw a single tear in his eyes.

The artist cupped the face of his lover between his hands and gently asked:

"Talk to me, my love. What's wrong?"

Catching his breath, the Duke managed to say:

"I thought... I thought that I lost you! When they told me about the car crash, I assumed that you were going to die!"

He took a breath before resuming:

"I would lose my will to live if you disappear! I cannot overcome this life without you by my side..."

Piero shushed Philip by giving a peck on his lips. 

"But I am here, now. I am alive! And I am so glad to be in your arms again!"

He nuzzled against his lover's neck, breathing his scent.

"I won't go away! I would never dream of leaving you. Remember what I told you: I will always be yours, no matter what happens."

Those words calmed Philip as he wiped away his tears. Then, he kissed his young lover on the lips.

"I am so relieved to have you here..."

"So am I."

The prince smirked.

"Come on, let's go to bed!"

The artist raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry to temper your ardor, darling, but the doctor asked me to have some rest. So, no bedroom antics!"

"I think I will survive... More seriously, I think your bed would be more comfortable for you!"

They went upstairs, and Philip gently laid Piero on the mattress before sitting next to his lover.

"How do you feel?"

"I feel relaxed."

"Good... Now, look what I brought you!"

The prince showed a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

"Oh, that's interesting! But what are we celebrating? My miraculous resurrection?"

His lover grinned.

"I would say that we are celebrating our triumph."

The artist was puzzled.

"Our triumph?"

"Nobody told you? Well, I am honored to have this privilege to tell you the great news..." answered Philip as he poured some champagne before handing the glass to Piero.

"So, what can make you so happy?"

Piero did not expect that.

"My beloved, I have the pleasure to tell that you will never see Acherville again!"

The artist nearly choked on champagne.

"What?"

"That's the truth: Elizabeth and Acherville broke up. Well, she decided to end their relationship."

Piero was speechless: he did not think a second that Elizabeth would break up with Acherville. But, on second thought, it was a relief: now, he would not have this sword of Damocles above his head.

The artist slightly laughed, relieved:

"My my, what a blessing! At least, me, the little entertainer, had the last laugh!"

He turned to his lover and put his arms around his waist:

"Bringing the champagne was really appropriate, darling. This news makes me feel better!"

"I am glad, my love." smirked the prince before pulling the artist into a kiss.

As they laid down on the bed, Philip and Piero relished their victory. Not only life did not tear them apart, but they also defeated their enemy once and for all. 

Let's hope the upcoming century would bring them joy and serenity...

June 19th, 1999. Saint George's Chapel.

The crowd loudly cheered and applauded the royal newlyweds. Indeed, Edward, the last child of the royal couple, married his girlfriend, Sophie Rhys-Jones, a young commoner. Now, the people can say that all the children of Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip were married.

And like every royal event, Piero was among the guests: how could he miss the marriage of Edward? The two had a special bond, as Piero practically raised him as if he was his own son. 

As the family went out of the chapel, Diana went near Piero and asked:

"They made a lovely couple, isn't it?"

"I agree, my dear. Those two lovebirds are made for each other..."

"Like you and Father!" muttered Charles, smirking.

"If you say so..." grinned the artist.

He tenderly glanced at the pair. He was glad that Sophie joined the family: she was a sweet and smart young woman. A bit shy at the beginning, but she improved her self-confidence.

Sophie and Piero quickly get along with each other, as the new princess was passionate about arts. They could talk about arts for hours...

Now, as the 20th century was about to end in a few months, there was nothing better than a wedding to close this era.

Westminster Abbey. April 9th, 2002.

This time, the Westminster Abbey bells sadly rang in the Londonian Sky. A huge crowd gathered near the paved forecourt to bid farewell to the Queen Mother.

Among the guests, Piero walked behind Charles and Diana while holding Margaret. He could not still believe that she passed away. Of course, she reached her 101st birthday, but it was a bit sudden. Although, he should have guessed that their meeting in February would be the last one...

Flash-back. Windsor Castle, 20th February 2002.

In the corridors of Windsor Castle, Piero followed the butler who led him to the apartments of the Queen Mother.

"So, you said she required my presence?"

"Indeed, Mister De Angelis. However, I could not tell you the reason for this urgent request. Her Majesty did not want to explain me..."

"Well, I will find out..."

They arrived in front of the door. The butler gently knocked before opening:

"Your Majesty. Sire De Angelis has arrived."

"Let him in, please. Thank you, Francis."

Piero entered the room and bowed in front of the Queen Mother.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am."

"Good afternoon, Mister De Angelis. A pretty cold day, isn't it?"

"Indeed, Your Majesty."

She gestured him to sit.

"Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?"

"A cup of tea would be fine, thank you."

As she handed him his cup, Piero noticed how tired and sad she looked. Last year, she nearly had a heart attack when Margaret narrowly survived a stroke. Since this incident, she has suffered several health problems.

Clearing his throat, the artist asked:

"So, Ma'am, you wished to see me..."

"That is correct, Mister De Angelis."

"Without being rude, may I know why?"

The matriarch of the royal family took her breath and started to explain:

"I need to see you again before it would be too late..."

"I beg your pardon? But Your Majesty, you seemed to recover..."

The Queen Mum had a bittersweet laugh.

"Don't judge a book by its cover, Mister De Angelis. Every day, I feel my body being weaker and weaker... Anyway, I need you to tell you this."

She cleared her throat and started her speech:

"Mister De Angelis, when you arrived there, I thought of you as an enemy, a home breaker who steals my daughter's husband. But the time went by, and I saw you repair my grandchildren's broken hearts and heal my son-in-law's pain. 

I saw you enjoying life along with my Maggie: she never looked so happier before you came. I saw you leading my great-grandchildren to a better future, surrounded by love and wonder. I saw you being a faithful servant to the Crown and the country, at your level.

I saw you respecting the legacy of my husband and always treating me with regard.

I have been horrible to you, and I am sorry for those harsh words I may throw at you all those years.

I will be grateful for all your efforts to bring this family together.

I don't know, and I am not sure I deserve it, but may I ask you to forgive me?

I accept your answer, come what may."

To say that Piero was astounded would be an understatement. Of course, their relations were more cordial since Christmas 1991. But he never expected the Queen Mother to apologize. 

Honestly, he never held a grudge against this woman: she only wanted to preserve her family from another scandal.

He reverently took her hand and said:

"Your Majesty, I appreciate your honesty, and I am moved by your kind words on my behalf. Have no worry: I never had resentful feelings towards you. I understood your motivations: your only priority was to protect your family, and I respect that."

He gently smiled.

"I already forgave you, Ma'am."

The Queen Mum held back a sob.

"Thank you so much, Mister De Angelis."

They talked for hours until Piero took his leave. As he was heading to the door, the Queen called him out.

"Mister De Angelis, may I ask you one last favor?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"Please, look after them for me. I will leave this world in peace, as I know my family will be in good hands."

"I will, Your Majesty. I promise..."

Back to the present.

Looking at the sky, Piero had a small and sad smile: at least, he hoped that she will be reunited with her beloved husband.

"Dieu réunit ceux qui s'aiment..." (God reunites those who love).

Two months later. In the gardens of an Essex mansion.

Entering the place, Philip and Piero wondered why they were invited here. 

"Do you know what your son meant when he asked us to come here ASAP?" asked Piero.

"Who knows what Charles can plan? Especially when he has the help of Diana!" snickered Philip.

They arrived into the gardens and nearly fell of surprise when they saw all their beloved ones gathered. All wore their best outfits and sat on white wooden benches.

At the end of the red carpet, Peter stood under an arch covered with flowers.

"Uh, could you explain what you are all doing here?" asked Piero.

"Why do I feel something suspicious?" inquired Philip.

Suddenly, Margaret came between them and held their arms.

"Don't worry, boys: it's just a little something Will and Peter planned for one year, now."

"And what is it?"

The princess smirked.

"Let's just say that we wanted to make your fairytale come true..."

Then, she led the two lovers down the path before letting them in front of Peter.

The 25-year old young man cleared his throat and started to talk:

"Dear family, we are all gathered today in this beautiful place to marry those two amazing men: Piero De Angelis & Philip Mountbatten. For me, they are Grandpa and Nonno."

The two men realized what their family planned behind their backs. Philip facepalmed while Piero giggled.

Peter continued his speech:

"Even if they are together since 1972, all the grandchildren and I decided to plan and prepare the wedding they deserve. And, as the oldest grandchild, I have the honor to marry them!"

"He takes his role seriously!" smirked Philip.

"Shh, don't disturb him!" gently said Piero.

William, Harry, Grace, Eugenie, Beatrice, and Zara proudly smiled: they were pretty satisfied with their organization.

Then, Peter asked:

"Philip Mountbatten, my dear Grandpa, do you take Nonno Piero De Angelis as your husband? Do you promise to love him, cherish him, stay with him in good and bad times, and be faithful until death do you apart?"

"I do!" answered the prince with a genuine smile.

The young man turned to Peter and asked:

"Piero De Angelis, my dear Nonno, do you take Grandpa Philip Mountbatten as your husband? Do you promise to love him, cherish him, stay with him in good and bad times, and be faithful until death do you apart?"

"I do, of course," muttered Piero, with loving eyes towards his unofficial husband.

"If any of you has a reason why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace!"

"I dare anyone to object to this wedding!" exclaimed Margaret, making everyone laugh.

As no one objected, Peter called his young cousin:

"Eugenie, bring the rings!"

The little girl arrived, presenting a little red cushion where rested two golden rings.

"How did you pay those rings?" asked Philip.

"GUESS WHO?" exclaimed Charles, Anne, Andrew, and Edward with a big grin on their faces.

The prince shook his head with a smirk on his face. Then, he picked a ring and put it on Piero's finger.

"With this ring, I, Philip Mountbatten, swear to love you and only you. I promise to be eternally yours and to stay by your side."

The artist gently picked the other ring and put it on Philip's finger while saying:

'With this ring, I, Piero De Angelis, swear to love you and only you. I promise to be eternally yours and to stay by your side."

With a big smile on his face, Peter declared:

"Now, I pronounce you husband and husband."

He turned to his grandfather.

"You can kiss the groom."

"As if he needed your permission!" snickered Zara.

"Anyhow, they just waited this moment!" snorted Grace.

"Oh, my poor darling: they did not only kiss when they are all alone..." muttered Margaret.

"MAGGIE!" exclaimed Piero and Philip.

"Grandpa, Nonno: are you kissing or not?" impatiently asked Beatrice.

"Yes, ma'am." grinned the prince as he cupped the face of his lover between his hands and kissed him on the lips under the applause of the guests.

While applauding, Margaret tenderly smiled at the two lovers:

°°"After all, they deserve their happy end..."°°

2019, 29th June, at Piero's house.

If you asked Piero to pick three years he loved to remember, he would have pick 2011, 2014, and 2017. Indeed, those three years were when William, Grace, and Harry get married.

As he looked at a photo album, he gently smiled at the beautiful pictures of the first wedding. He fondly remembered the marriage of William, who married his long-time girlfriend, the charming Catherine Middleton. 

How intimidated she was when they first met: the poor girl could not stop fidgeting her fingers! But now, they really get along with each other, and she even let him look after their children: George, Charlotte, and Louis.

Piero turned the page and looked at the second wedding in the Wales family. This time, it was his little Grace who married her boyfriend, Arthur Hargrave. This brilliant young man was the perfect choice for her. And he was also very daunted when he met Piero for the first time. The artist thought Arthur would pass out of dread! But now, it was ancient history... 

Piero grinned as he remembered Charles and Diana were moved to tears while the Prince of Wales walked his only daughter down the aisle. Everything went perfectly... apart from the best friends of the groom who put on a musical show for the newlyweds!

And now, Grace and Arthur are parents of two children, Marius and Christopher.

As he turned the page, the British-Italian man fondly looked at the last marriage: Harry's wedding.

After a tumultuous love life, the second child of Charles and Diana tied the knot with Aïssa Hoarau, a lovely French mixed-race girl. Like the other fiances, she was nervous when she met "Nonno" Piero. But now, they really get along. Moreover, the pair was blessed with the birth of their first child, Leopold.

However, in every picture, Piero spotted the bright smile of Margaret. Dear Margaret...

The artist tried to hold tears back as he remembered this horrible day of October 2018, when he received the call of David, Margaret's son, who told him that his mother passed away in her sleep.

Piero and Philip were devastated by her passing: after all, she introduced them during this party in 1972. She was their friend and ally against Acherville until his disgrace in 1997 and his death in 2001. 

The artist would never forget the tears in Elizabeth's eyes as she buried her little sister. Even if they had a conflicted relationship, the two women were close to each other.

Piero sighed: Margaret has joined their dear friends. His heart ached as he recalled the deaths of Grace, Rainier, Marylin, Jane, and Marlon. All were gone...

"Piero?"

The voice of Philip snapped him out of his gloomy thoughts. He quickly wiped away his tears and smiled at his lover:

"Yes, darling?"

"What are you doing?"

He shrugged.

"Oh, nothing... I just look at some family pictures."

The prince sat near his unofficial husband and looked tenderly at the pictures.

"Some of the best days of my life..."

"Indeed."

Philip put his arm around Piero's shoulders.

"I miss her too, you know. But you know, Margaret suffered a lot. At least, she is in peace!"

"I know. It's just that... Maggie became a friend, almost a sister. It was hard to say goodbye!"

"I understood... But don't mess up with your health!"

"Speaking of that, it was a good thing that you retire from official life. After all, you had several heart surgeries..."

"Don't worry for me, my angel. I am a tough guy: I survive!"

The artist put his head on the shoulder of the prince.

"At least, we have more time together..."

"That's the man I secretly married. Thank God, your optimism is still intact!"

The two stayed together, holding hands as they enjoyed the presence of each other. After all, they have all the time in the world...

2021, April 9th. Buckingham Palace.

This morning, Philip felt weak. Feeble would be exact. 

At this moment, he knew that this morning would be his last on Earth.

Using his fading strength, he called:

"Jordan!"

His servant arrived at his bedside:

"Yes, Your Highness!"

"Please, call my family, and tell them to hurry!"

Worried, the servant asked:

"Your Highness, is there something wrong?"

"I feel like... I'm dying."

Horrified, Jordan nodded and rushed outside the bedroom. He picked the internal phone and called all the royal family members.

Within the following minutes, all the adults rushed to Philip's bedroom.

The moment they saw him, they all understood what happened.

"Oh no... Tell me it is not happening!" sobbed Aïssa while holding Harry.

"Father..." muttered Edward, holding back his tears as his wife held him.

As he tried to ease their pain, the Duke attempted to joke:

"Oh, come on! Don't look at me like that: it seems like you're attending a funeral. Well, it will be the case, I'm afraid!"

Elizabeth sat next to him and held his hand:

"Philip..."

"You know what it means, Liz: I will leave you soon... even if we were not that close for years."

"A situation that I will forever regret!" confessed the Queen with a sad look in her eyes.

Philip knew what she meant: since the death of Acherville in 2001, she tried to win him back. But it was too late: his heart belonged to someone else.

Speaking of him, where is Piero?

"Piero... Where is Piero? I need to see him!"

"I called him, Your Highness: he is on his way!" reassured Jordan.

"Is Mister De Angelis's presence necessary?" asked the Queen.

"MOTHER!" yelled Charles, Anne, Andrew, and Edward, offended.

"Piero is a part of our family, so he has to be there!" added William.

Meanwhile, at the doorsteps, Piero rushed as fast as he could: when he received the call, the artist knew that something terrible would happen. He prayed that he did not arrive too late.

On his way, Jordan, Philip's young butler, welcomed him:

"Mister De Angelis..."

"Please, Jordan: tell me I am not too late!"

"No, sir: indeed, His Highness required your presence viva voce!"

"I would not be surprised!"

The servant led him to Philip's bedroom. When he arrived, Piero saw the grieving faces of his "family." He understood that the thing he feared the most was about to happen.

He came closer and asked with a trembling voice:

"Philip?"

The Duke turned his head and weakly smiled:

"Come closer, my angel!"

As the Queen stepped aside, Piero seated at Philip's bedside and took his hand:

"I went here as fast as I can..."

"I know, I know..."

The prince gently skimmed his lover's cheek, wiping away a falling tear.

"I don't know if I told enough how handsome you are. Even after all these years, it seems like you never aged!"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous: you are handsome, too!"

Philip scoffed.

"Me? I look like a scarecrow! Or a mummy!"

"Please, don't belittle yourself..."

The artist bit his lip, trying to hold back his tears. He knew that this would happen one day, although it hurts.

"I cannot believe you are going to do this to me..."

"What are you talking about, darling?"

"Leaving me. Marylin, Grace, Rainier, Marlon, Margaret... All left, and now I have to tell you goodbye!"

He wept:

"It is not fair..."

Philip gently squeezed Piero's hand.

"Don't be sad for me, my beloved. If today has to be my last day, then it shall be. Even if I wish I knew you sooner!"

The Duke sighed.

"Almost fifty years together... It seems so short, but I enjoyed every second spent with you!"

"And I am grateful to you for making my life extraordinary!"

All the people present in the room were overwhelmed by this moment. There was no word strong enough to describe the unconditional love between those two men.

Suddenly, the Duke made a gesture, pointing at his nightstand.

"Charles?"

"Yes, Father?"

"Would you please give me that huge black box which is under the shelf?"

Nodding, the Crown Prince went near the nightstand and pulled out the black box.

"What is it?" asked Andrew.

"You'll see... Open it, son."

Charles opened the box, revealing a beautiful crown. Piero gasped at the sight: he recognized that crown!

"Is everything alright, Piero?" gently inquired Kate.

"What is the problem with this crown?" asked Anne.

The Duke of Edinburgh started to explain:

"In 1979, as I buried my dear uncle, Louis Mountbatten, I realized what were the essential things in my life. But this tragedy opened my eyes to something else: it showed me that I finally found love again. So, after the funeral, I went to the palace, picked this crown, and drove to Piero's place. Then, I put this crown at his feet while I swear that I will always be him, no matter what happens."

He weakly smiled.

"It was like my first proposal... The proof of my unconditional love to him!"

With shaking hands, Philip put the crown on Piero's head.

"All my life, I dedicated my love and faith to you, who gave me the honor of your affection. I never looked at someone else like I look at you. I always stayed by your side, in good and bad times. I may be a prince, but you are, and you will always be my king."

The artist stayed silent, tears rolling down on his cheeks. After all those years, Philip kept this crown which was the milestone of their relationship.

"I may spend all these years in your shadow, Philip, but I never regret it. If I had to do it again, I would keep it the same way..." he whispered, holding back a sob.

The prince gently wiped away the tears.

"Don't cry for me, my love... We'll meet again... like in this song by Vera Lynn."

The artist nodded.

"Could you please sing it for me?"

Piero calmed himself before he started singing:

We'll meet again.

Don't know where

Don't know when.

But I know we'll meet again 

Some sunny day.

Keep smiling through

Just like you always do

'Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away.

Philip joined him, humming along:

So will you please say hello

To the folks that I know.

Tell them I won't be long.

They'll be happy to know 

That as you saw me go

I was singing this song.

All the family members looked at this scene with tears in their eyes as they were about to say goodbye to their beloved father and grandfather: life would be different without him. As for the staff members who listened at the doorstep, they struggled to stifle their sobs. Most of them were the privileged witnesses of this unusual yet beautiful love story. A love story that was close to the end...

We'll meet again.

Don't know where

Don't know when

But I know we'll meet again 

Some sunny day.

We'll meet again

Don't know where

Don't know when

But I know we'll meet again

Some sunny day.

Keep smiling through 

Just like you always do

'Til the blue skies

Drive the dark clouds far away.

So will you please say hello

To the folks that I know

Tell them it won't be long.

They'll be happy to know 

That as you saw me go

I was singin' this song.

We'll meet again

Don't know where

Don't know when

But I know we'll meet again 

Some sunny day.

Once he finished the song, Piero closed the distance between Philip and him as he gave his lover one last kiss:

"My handsome Viking..."

"My sweet artist..."

While he gave this ultimate proof of love, Philip Mountbatten drew his last breath and closed his eyes.

As he stopped the embrace, Piero felt something was wrong and asked:

"Philip?"

No answer. At this moment, the artist understood that his prince passed away. Sobbing, he hugged the cold body of his lover and muttered:

"Wait for me, my love. We'll meet again, I promise..."

A few years later, in England...

"Are you sure you don't want to stay a bit longer?" asked Charles.

"No, thank you. That's very kind of you, but I am tired."

Charles sighed. Since the passing of his father in 2021, Piero was not the same man. Of course, his grief healed, but the new King of the United Kingdom and Commonwealth felt that his friend still mourned the love of his life.

"You can stay here if you want. We can prepare you a room!" added Diana.

"No, really. I appreciate the gesture, but I need to go home. I have a paint to finish..."

"Alright, as you wish!"

Charles called a servant.

"Would you please escort Mister De Angelis to his car?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Piero got up from his seat and kissed Charles and Diana goodbye.

"Will you be there for tea tomorrow?" asked Diana.

"I won't miss it!" smiled Piero.

The artist went out of the palace and got in the car before his chauffeur started to drive him home. While they looked at the car drew away, the royal couple felt a pang in their hearts.

"I feel something wrong, Charles. What if he did something terrible?"

"I don't think he will, Di. But, for sure, he never recovered from the passing of Father."

At the same time, Piero looked at the landscape, thinking about all those years since Philip died in his arms. 

The burial was an ordeal, to say the least. The artist had to hold back his grief, as the public was not supposed to know about their love affair. 

And to think that Elizabeth tried to prevent him from being among the guests... Her last attack against him, he supposed. Luckily for him, all the family members got his back, and he gained the right to say goodbye to Philip.

He needed time to heal this heart-breaking pain, but thanks to the love of his family, he felt better.

Three years later, the Queen passed away in her sleep after apologizing for all the wrong she had done to her family. 

Four months after her state funeral, Charles and Diana were crowned King and Queen consort of England. Of course, Piero was among the guests of the coronation.

Thus far, Charles and Diana were popular and achieved modernizing the monarchy with the help of their family.

As for Piero, he pursued his career and received many praises and awards. His life was complete, at least...

"Sire? We just arrived at your home?"

Piero woke from his daydream and went out of the car:

"Thank you, Mark. Have a goodnight!"

"Have a goodnight, Sire!"

The artist entered his home and went to his office. Once he arrived in this room, Piero picked his diary and wrote down those lines:

As I came to the last chapter of my life, I was often asked what I want people to remember when they think about me. Well, I just require that they would think of me as a man who loved and lived his life as he wanted. For my legacy, I just leave my creations, my memories, and my unconditional love. Love was my motto and guidelight through the years.

Satisfied with this paragraph, the artist took a bath. Then, he went to bed and laid down as he felt powerful tiredness overwhelming his whole body. He closed his eyes and muttered:

"My handsome Viking..."

The next evening.

During the news bulletin, the BBC TV anchor declared with a sad tone:

"Ladies and gentlemen, good evening. As we all know, an official report released by the De Angelis family announced the passing of the famous British-Italian artist, Piero De Angelis. He was 92 years old. 

After this tragic announcement, hundreds of people went to his residence, dropping flowers and letters of condolence to his siblings, nephews, and great-nephews. Similar scenes were seen near Buckingham Palace, as Mister De Angelis was a close friend of Their Majesties King Charles III and Queen Diana.

Many celebrities and Head of States sent their condolences to them: from the Pope to the President of the United States, by way of members of the government, all praised the contribution of Mister De Angelis to arts and his dedication to many charities.

As for the members of the Royal family, some of them released official statements. 

The Prince and Princess of Wales, William and Catherine, shared their grief and cherished all the moments spend with Mister De Angelis. 

The Duke and Duchess of Sussex, Harry and Aïssa, stated to be devastated by the news. 

The Duke and Duchess of Norfolk, Arthur and Grace, informed us of their profound sadness.

As Princess Anne and her husband spoke about their sorrow, the Duke and Duchess of York shared their heartbroken feelings about this loss while the Earl and Countess of Wessex said to have lost a father and friend figure.

Later that day, the King and Queen released a statement where they shared their grief and sorrow about the passing of Piero De Angelis.  They praised his gentle character and benevolent presence in their lives.

Furthermore, they officially announced that a state funeral will take place the following week, as a tribute to Piero De Angelis's works and achievements at the service of his country."

Meanwhile, in Buckingham Palace.

Charles looked at the window as he watched people leaving flowers and cards at the portal.

He was amazed by the sincere emotion of the people. It was insane to see how Piero was loved in England and abroad.

He sadly sighed:

"I am sure you would have loved it, Piero."

The king heard his wife coming next to him. She gently held his hand, trying to comfort him:

"They knew Piero was an angel..."

"Indeed."

The Queen put her head on his shoulder: 

"I miss him too, you know. But, at least, they will be together again!"

"You're right..."

Charles had a small smile:

"With a bit of luck, Aunt Margaret will welcome him in Heaven!"

"I am sure she would give him a triumphant reception!" 

The royal couple stayed silent a few minutes before Diana asked:

"I suppose that we would not tell the truth about Piero and your father?"

"Not yet. I don't think the people will be ready to hear that." replied her husband.

The former Lady Spencer nodded before looking back at the crowd. Even if it was a pity that this love story would be hidden for a long time, she understood that the monarchy must not take any risk...

Three days before Piero's funeral, in England.

All the media went frenzy: indeed, one of Piero's servants sold copies of his diary to some newspapers. In the excerpts, he showed parts where the late artist confessed about his love affair with Prince Philip. This revelation caused a surprise in the United Kingdom and abroad.

However, this situation displeased the royal family:

"HOW DARE HE? SPILLING ALL HIS SECRETS FOR MONEY?"

"Calm down, Charles: it is not good for your nerves!"

"Listen to your wife, dear brother. However, I agree: this man acts like a jerk! Did he lost all the respect he had for Piero?"

"If Mother was here, Andrew, she would have lectured you for hours!" smirked Anne.

"How the public reacts?" asked Edward.

"I don't know... Let's hope they would not react too badly!" replied Sophie.

"I would not cope with the people spitting on Nonno's memory!" stated Grace.

Suddenly, William called them:

"It's the news bulletin! They are about to speak about it!"

All rushed to the living room and sat in front of the television.

The TV anchor started his speech:

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. The trend topic of the last days is this revelation about the late Piero De Angelis and Prince Philip. 

Indeed, thanks to the passages from his diary and the testimonies of former employees of Buckingham Palace, we can confirm that the two men had a love affair that lasted almost fifty years until Prince Philip's passing in 2021. 

We asked different people in the streets what are their opinions about this revelation. Here are their answers..."

Different interviews of diverse people were shown and the Royal family was surprised by the reactions:

"When my friends told me about it, I was shocked at first. Then, I read the diary of Piero... and I was moved to tears! They really loved each other, for sure! It was a shame that they were not able to love in plain sight, but I understand." stated a young woman.

"This man lived a pure and sincere love story with the man he cherished. That's the most important thing!" explained an old lady.

"Piero De Angelis was an amazing man. But that is awesome: seriously, he was Prince Philip's lover! Now, I  understood why the prince consort seemed more relaxed!" said a young man.

"I hope this story will help people to accept the LGBTQ+ community. Who knows: maybe in the future, we will have a gay king or a lesbian queen?" told a bunch of youngsters.

"I was surprised to hear this story... But after all Mister De Angelis did for the Royal family and the country, I will never blame him. This man was a good person and we must remember him that way!" declared an old man.

The TV anchor reappeared on screen:

"It seems to show that the reactions are positive. On the internet, many messages on social media prove this tendency. The majority of users praise or acclaim this unusual love story. Even celebrities give their opinions, such as Lady Gaga, Ava Max, or Bruno Mars, who approved this romance.

Le's hope that one day, the Royal Family would give us their version of this story."

Harry smirked:

"It looks like we don't have the choice..."

"Perhaps some of us can give interviews about it!" submitted Beatrice.

"In this case, let's wait a few weeks or months after the funeral!" recommended Peter. 

"Good idea, brother! I think it is the best solution!" approved Zara.

Eugenie looked at the picture of Piero and Philip on the table and said:

"I think Piero wished to tell the world about his love for Grandpa. Now that they are both gone, we have the mission to tell the truth and to protect their memories!"

"Well spoken, dear cousin." smiled Louise.

"I wonder what people would do during the funeral..." asked James.

"We will see on time..." replied Kate.

"At least, we can be sure that they won't be disrespectful towards Piero!" stated Arthur.

"At least, indeed..." muttered Aïssa.

The members of the royal family braced themselves for the upcoming funeral. Meanwhile, the country gets prepared to say goodbye to one of his most beloved artists...

Three days later, the day of Piero's funeral.

The warm sun of May was hidden by grey clouds, and a gentle wind blew through the trees and buildings in London. An immense crowd gathered near Westminster Abbey as the funeral procession passed by. 

Behind the coffin walked the entire royal family, along with the De Angelis house. All struggled to hide their grief as they were about to bury their dear friend and relative.

Along the way, several cameramen and journalists aimed their lens at the ceremony, broadcasting this event across the globe.

The Archbishop of Canterbury came to meet them, renewing his sincere condolences.

Then, all sat on the benches, and the priest started his speech, heard by the crowd thanks to speakers:

"Dearly beloved, we are all gathered today as we say farewell to Piero De Angelis and to commit him into the hands of God."

He paused a moment before continuing:

"All his life, Piero proved that he was a gift sent by the Almighty. He was a gift to his family, as he brought joy, love, and pride to his parents and his siblings. He was a gift to his friends, as he proved to be a loyal and cheerful companion. He was a gift to the world, as he shared both his talent for arts and his dedication to charities.

Moreover, he was a gift to the man he dedicated his life and love with no hesitation. 

Piero stayed discreet during all this time, playing the role of a benevolent and gentle friend to the royal children. To quote Her Majesty, Queen Diana, he became the guardian angel of Buckingham Palace."

Faint sobs echoed on the stone walls as the youngest members of the Royal Family cried their dear Nonno. As for the youngest generation of the De Angelis Family, they wept over the memory of their beloved Zio Piero.

"All who once crossed paths with our dear Piero always talk about a gentle, patient, funny, and loyal man. Some of us do not approve of his decision to be the lover of Prince Philip. But it would be a shame to belittle his peaceful influence on his second family, to quote him."

Outside the Abbey, people were crying or praying. Among them, a young girl named Aliyah. She went with her friends to attend the funeral. 

Wiping a tear, Aliyah wanted to do something as a tribute to the late artist.

Noticing a microphone on a speaker, she connected the wire and waited for the end of Princess Grace's speech. Once the silence back, she started singing:

Mon Dieu

Mon Dieu

Mon Dieu

Laissez-le moi

Encore un peu

Mon amoureux!

Un jour

Deux jours

Huit jours

Laissez-le moi

Encore un peu

A moi!

She picked this song by Edith Piaf, as she heard that Piero loved the tunes of the French singer. Besides, he wrote down in his diary that Mon Dieu epitomized his feelings during Philip's funeral. 

Le temps de s'adorer,

De se le dire.

Le temps de s'fabriquer

Des souvenirs.

Mon Dieu

Oh oui! Mon Dieu!

Laissez-le moi

Remplir ma vie.

Amazed by this unrehearsed performance, people around Aliyah started to sing along with her.

Six mois

Trois mois

Deux mois

Laissez-le moi

Pour seulement

Un mois!

Le temps de commencer 

Ou de finir

Le temps d'illuminer

Ou de souffrir

The voices of this improvised choir reached the ears of the families in the church.

"But what happens?" asked Anne.

"It happens what I hope the most," replied Charles, relieved.

"Nonno would have loved it!" smiled William through tears.

At the same time, all the crowd sang at the top of their lungs:

Mon Dieu 

Mon Dieu

Mon Dieu

Même si j'ai tort,

Laissez-le moi

Un peu.

Même si j'ai tort,

Laissez-le moi

Encore!

There was a silence, then people politely applauded Aliyah's initiative.

At that very moment, the funeral reached its end. The two families went out of the church, following the coffin.

Suddenly, people started to sing L'Hymne à l'amour with emotion. Moved to tears, the royals and the De Angelis did not hold back their feelings and gently waved at the crowd, thanking them for this proof of love.

At the end of this sad day, after Piero's coffin was laid near Philip's grave, all the journalists quoted this inhumation as royal and beautiful. A burial worth of a king...

When Piero opened his eyes, he realized that something was off.  He got up and found out that he was not in his bed, neither in his home. Instead, he was in a calm and lovely garden.

The only sound he heard was the warbling of the water. Looking around with amazed eyes, the artist tripped and nearly fell in the fountain.

"Phew! That was a close one! Wait a minute..."

As he looked at his reflection on the surface, Piero almost screamed: he was young again!

At that moment, he understood that he was dead. This thought gave him a lump in his throat: he did not have the time to say goodbye to those he loved...

But another thought soothed his mind: his presence here meant that he will meet again his beloved who died before him. 

Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him, and a voice said:

"I have waited a long time for you, my angel!"

Piero turned around and gasped as he saw his lover, young again and smiling at him.

"PHILIP!" he screamed as he ran into his arms.

The two tightly hugged each other.

"I have missed you so much!" muttered the artist.

"Here I am now, my love!"

The prince gently stroke the cheek of his beloved.

"And as we are finally reunited, we have all the eternity for us!"

"What could be better?"

They shared a kiss, celebrating their love.

Then, they pulled back, and Philip said:

"Let's go, now! I know some people who are very impatient to see you again..."

As Philip and Piero walked down the garden, the prince muttered at the artist's ear:

"All hail to my king!"

First of all, thanks for the reading! I really hoped that you enjoyed the story!

Secondly, I want to precise that this story is an AU and a fiction: don’t take it as pure truth! If you disagree with the subject, please, tell it respectuously!

Anyway, don’t hesitate to send me requests!

See you soon and take care! 😘😍🥰😷

Disclaimer: This aesthetic was made by me!

#requests #the crown #the crown au #elizabeth ii #prince philip #princess margaret #prince charles #princess diana #tobias menzies #drew roy #olivia colman #helena bonham carter #josh o'connor #emma corrin

[boarchasers]

July 29th – ruins or campfire [x]

The rules were simple. Trond had made sure of that, and also to explain them in short, simple words when he passed them on to Haaki, who rolled his eyes but listened anyway. No treats outside mealtimes, no weapons, no jaunts into giant camps, no coming home with an additional puppy. He nodded, nodded again until Trond was satisfied, and finally, after being made to recite the rules back, was allowed to take Amelie off her parents' hands and down to the Boar-Chaser farmhouse for the day.

So far it seemed to be going well, and Haaki couldn't help wondering what the fuss was about. Amelie was happy doing pretty much anything, from playing with the dogs to digging in the garden, as long as someone was around to listen to her incessant chatter. She also didn't pester her uncle for sweetrolls which, in Haaki's eyes, put her several points above Trond. He watched her walking a wooden rabbit, carved by Hjolrin, over the kitchen table, narrating its journey as she did so.

'...and went back to the hole and told all her friends about her adventure and everyone was happy and they ate a pie. Uncle Haaki?'

'Aye?'

'Can we go on an adventure?'

She said it with wide, hopeful eyes, the wooden rabbit clasped between her fingers. Haaki weighed up the question against the list of rules and found it innocent enough. An adventure didn't have to mean giant camps, did it? It only had to mean the end of the garden path. Amelie wouldn't know any better, and anyway, surely upsetting her would break a rule somewhere?

Which was how Haaki found himself being towed, with surprising strength, through the garden gate, across the plains, and towards the river by a small seven-year-old girl. And that was fine. No rules broken. Even if his concern started mounting, Haaki could easily reassure himself that he had done nothing wrong whatsoever. Really, he thought, he was doing a better job than Trond. He knew for a fact that Amelie was permitted to wander around the market, talking to odd Dunmer and getting into arguments with the Battle-Borns, and that as long as she remained within shouting distance of Joldi’s stall, she was free to do what she liked. It was about time she got to see more of the wider world, with someone responsible to look after her.

Their adventure took them as far as some ruins on the road to Windhelm, which Haaki was sure he recognised. Probably from a forgotten childhood memory, a day out with his siblings, and he attributed the strange, uncomfortable feeling in his stomach to the bittersweet thoughts whenever his mind turned to those days. That was all it was: the sense of loss, the reminder of Minnel and Brandrel and the adventures they would never get to go on with Amelie. There was nothing foreboding in the fallen stones and empty archway.

After the dogs had sniffed around and confirmed that there was nobody lurking behind the crumbled walls, Amelie declared it to be lunchtime, and when Haaki failed to produce any food, having been under the assumption that lunchtime already finished an hour ago back at the farmhouse when he gave Amelie the cheese and apples prescribed by Joldi, she was unperturbed.

'Then we gotta forage! Uncle Hjoll told me about foraging. Do you know how to forage?'

'Of course I do.'

'Bet I can forage more than you!'

She marched off and began kicking stones around the ruins, apparently hoping that she might discover pastries underneath them. Some gentle guidance towards the bushes growing up the walls of the ruin produced a handful of berries, some sweet mountain flowers, a mushroom which Haaki strategically lost before it could make its way into Amelie's mouth, and an axe.

It was an old axe, probably from the back of a cart, and the blade was too dull to worry about Amelie or the dogs coming to any harm. While she laid the berries out on a stone and decorated them with the flowers, Haaki picked the axe up for a closer look and noticed the notches along the blade, close to a rusty stain. Maybe not the back of the cart, then. More likely to have been left there by bandits. Safe now, the dogs would have picked up any scent if they were likely to return, but Haaki recognised the style, crude yet effective. It was the sort of weapon--

Suddenly the memory, the discomfort, the feeling of something wrong, made sense. These were the ruins where he first found the gang of bandits who took him into their fold. Murderers, no other word for them, murderers he called friends, and then he had killed them. Who was worse, really? Brigands who’d never known better scraping a living in a hard land, or the man who fell in with them out of boredom, stabbed them in the back, and then had the audacity to ask the gods for mercy afterwards? At least they never denied their own crimes, never pretended to themselves that they were good people. He felt it now as he tightened his hand around the axe – the weight of the shaft, the noise as it sank through gristle, the bandit leader's final cry. With a shiver, Haaki realised he couldn't even remember their names now, the people who had trusted him and died for their trouble.

A small hand patted his.

'Uncle Haaki? Are you sick? Pa said you were sick before. I was sick once. Ma gave me a medicine that tasted of yuck and she gave me a blanket and then I was better.'

He dropped the axe. The head buried itself in the turf, and for a moment Haaki could only see the bandit leader's back, the blood on the grass, before a more insistent tug on his sleeve brought him back to the present.

'No, I'm fine. I just... forgot something.'

Amelie pulled him down until he was bent double and pushed her hand against his forehead. What this was supposed to achieve Haaki didn't know, but, oddly enough, it made it easier to concentrate on his surroundings. It was hard to find anything sinister in a hot, chubby hand. Nor in Amelie's giggle, which was light and playful and utterly unaware of the fading vision.

'You're weird,' she announced.

'Um. Thanks.'

'But s’all right. I'll look after you. D'you want some berries?'

'How about we eat them on the way back? Otherwise your Pa will get home and wonder where we've gone.'

Although this meant cutting short the adventure, Amelie agreed with a minimum of fuss, and soon they were on the road again. The journey back was quieter, but she held his hand right up until they entered the farmhouse, and Haaki couldn't say whether that was for her benefit or his own.

#story #haaki #amelie boarchaser

[fangirlovestuff]

Holding Out for a Hero- Steve Rogers x Reader Pt.11 (epilogue)

a/n-  Hey lovely people! I am so frustrated for taking like 3 weeks to upload this last one, but it was just hard to say goodbye to it I guess. Thank you so much to everyone who read, liked or reblogged - going through this journey with you was amazing! Song lyrics are in bold. Enjoy <3

part 10

"Where have all the good men gone And where are all the gods? Where's the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds? Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed? Late at night I toss and I turn And I dream of what I need!"

You and Julie sang in sync into the microphones in your hands. Well, maybe screamed would be a better word, but the guys didn't seem to care. Steve and Bucky were sitting on the couch, Bucky with a phone in his hand filming you while Steve simply laughed heartily as you and Jules sang.

You were in the compound's karaoke room, because apparently Tony Stark thinks of literally everything when he plans a building like the Avengers compound. You were thrilled when you found this place, showing it to Julia. Together, you convinced the boys to come with you on a double date to karaoke. Well, it was more like the two of you singing and them laughing and filming you, but you were having a great time.

"I need a hero I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night He's gotta be strong And he's gotta be fast And he's gotta be fresh from the fight"

You tossed your hair while you sang, gesturing theatrically with your body as Jules did the same next to you.

"I need a hero I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light He's gotta be sure And it's gotta be soon And he's gotta be larger than life!"

You looked into Steve's eyes as you sang the cheesy song, smiling widely at him. His eyes twinkled, head tossed back in laughter, and his look reflected how you felt - perfectly happy.

Steve and you were going stronger than ever, and so were Bucky and Jules. After a year of dating, Bucky proposed to Julia. You looked over at her, the ring sparkling on her hand that clutched the microphone. She looked so free. Julie often reminded you of a lioness in the way she carried herself, her proud and cheeky personality shining through in her stunning smile. You were glad she finally found her lion. Bucky was filming with a smile on his lips. Around Julia, his laugh was getting easier and easier as time went on, and you were glad to see them make each other happy like this.

Steve was watching you and laughing so hard he looked like he was going to fall out of his seat. You winked at him as you continued your song and he smiled and shook his head playfully at your antics. You felt your love for him shining in your heart, so bright you could burst. You never wasted a chance to express your love to one another. Whether it was words – when you woke up, when you went to sleep, when you were going or returning from a mission or anything in between – or acts, Steve always made you feel loved. Little notes saying "went to train, be back soon, xo" were a common occurrence with you two, and so were hugs, kisses and cuddles. Even as a year of your relationship was close by, you couldn't get enough of each other, and you wouldn't have it any other way. Knowing Steve was a great privilege – you don’t often come by a person who's so smart, kind, funny, and emotionally supportive, and also is Captain America. But loving Steve was a gift you didn’t know if you deserved, but were thankful for every waking moment. Loving Steve was like eating ice cream in the summer, a cozy blanket when it's raining outside, and petting a cute dog all at once. Steve was your safe place, your hero really. Not a day went by that you didn't cherish him in, and the same was the other way around. You fit like two puzzle pieces finally coming together. If a year ago someone would have told you that you were going to date Captain America, you would've laughed in their face. But you were, and there was nothing that could've made you happier.

You finished the song and collapsed dramatically onto Steve's lap, laughing. "Can you get me some water please?" you pouted playfully. "That was a hell of a performance, so yeah, sure." he chuckled. "My hero," you winked as he went away to grab a glass of water, laughing.

Later that evening, you were all sitting in an Italian restaurant, the very same one where you and Steve had your first date. You were all laughing and talking over each other, enjoying the excellent food and even better company. Your dessert arrived, an absolutely delicious looking tiramisu. You were about to dig in before you noticed a sparkle between the cream layers. You prodded it with your spoon, taking in out and discovering a silver diamond ring. You gasped, turning to Steve, who was looking just as puzzled as you felt. You raised your brow at him, and he quickly shook his head. You felt a pang of disappointment. You and Steve never really talked about getting married, but based on Jules and Bucky's engagement, you anticipated a ring coming to you very soon. Apparently, Steve didn't share the sentiment, you noticed as you took in his seemingly mortified face. You swallowed your disappointment and smiled as you called for your waitress.

"There was a ring in the tiramisu that's not ours," you explained to the embarrassed waitress.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! We must have mixed it up with table 4, the poor guy must not understand what's happening. Maybe he thinks his boyfriend swallowed the ring," she chuckled nervously. "Anyway, I'm very sorry and we'll bring you another one shortly, on the house." She smiled at all of you and took away the tiramisu and the ring. Jules, Bucky and Steve were quick to laugh it off, returning to their conversation, but you just couldn't focus. The ring sent you down a very immersive train of thought, about you and Steve and how he might not want to get married, or he doesn’t want to get married to you.

You remained quiet throughout the ride back to the compound, contemplating your insecurities. No one seemed to notice.

You got back to the compound and jumped out of the car. "Good night guys, I think I'm just gonna go to bed, I'm pretty tired." You tried to smile but it came out more like a grimace.

"But we wanted to watch a movie," Jules complained. Bucky's arm was wrapped around her, a united front.

"Well you guys should go ahead, I'm gonna go as well," Steve said, taking your hand in his. He smiled and you returned his smile. Your sadness started to fade into the background, as if telling you that you could deal with it tomorrow. But right now, with Steve's hand holding yours, you felt your heart swell with love. Jules and Bucky were already ahead, but you and Steve took your time, walking slowly into the building and the elevator.

When you got to your floor, you saw a trail of rose petals from the elevator door. You sent Steve a quizzical look, but he shrugged and smiled, squeezing your hand in his. You followed the trail all the way to your room, smiling at Steve before opening the door.

In front of you was a sea of flowers, and you run to smell them, leaving Steve's hand. You noticed Jules and Bucky were also there, smiling widely. You sent them a puzzled smile before you turned around to thank Steve for the flowers, and you found him on one knee, holding a little black box in his hands. Oh.

You gasped, your eyes immediately welling up. "Steve?" you asked, a small smile forming on your lips. For the entire night, you've been thinking about how Steve's eyebrows furrowed when he saw the ring. You thought it was because he'd never thought about getting you a ring, that he hadn’t wanted to. Apparently, it was just because some random mix-up beat him to it.

Steve looked up at you, his eyes shining as well. "Hey sweetheart," he chuckled in response to your question. "You know, before I caught you that day when you jumped from the elevator, I was thinking about how the new recruits are gonna be, how are they gonna find their place around here. And then you landed right into my arms, and you were so pretty I couldn't help but think your place should be there, in my arms, all of the time." He was beaming up at you now.

"Smooth," you couldn't help but comment as you beamed back down at him.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "And then I got to see just pretty wasn't enough to describe you. You are overwhelmingly beautiful, inside and out. You're strong, and smart, and funny. And I thought I could never deserve having you in my arms. You were a shining star and all I could do was watch from the earth as you soared through the sky." Tears started to fall from your eyes as you smiled at him. "But then I jumped; I jumped and you were willing to catch me. Maybe not to be in my arms the entire time, but to hold my hand. And I have never been luckier. I love you," he took a deep breath, "more than words can describe. So, will you make me the luckiest guy in the universe once more and hold my hand forever?" he popped open the box, revealing the most beautiful ring you had ever seen, "Will you marry me?"

You nodded your head so quickly you thought your neck would snap, but fortunately, it didn't. You knelt down next to Steve, wrapping your hands around his neck. "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes," you smiled, accentuating each yes with a kiss – to his cheeks, to his nose.

He grinned at you and drew away, taking the ring out of the box and slipping it onto your finger. "I love you, Steve," you touched your forehead to his. "I love you too," he replied, kissing you gently yet passionately, making you feel so loved like only he knew how to. You put your hands on his cheeks, feeling the ring on your finger prominently. You smiled into the kiss, breaking apart but staying close to each other, breathing the same air.

"Congratulations!" you heard a shout from across the room. You turned your head, smiling. You were so focused on Steve's speech you had forgotten Jules and Bucky were still there. Jules' eyes were shining with unshed tears and Bucky was smiling from ear to ear, their phones in their hands. Bucky came forward to clap Steve on the shoulder and embrace him tightly before hugging you, whispering in your ear, "he'd get you the moon if you told him to."

"He's my sun," you whispered back. You pulled apart, smiling at each other, understanding you both love this punk more than anything. Jules hugged Steve, whispering something you couldn't make out into his ear, and then came to you, wrapping her arms around you in a crushing bear hug. "I'm so happy for you," she whispered, her voice wavering with emotion. "Thank you," you whispered back.

"Oh, the pictures!" Jules exclaimed before she reached for her phone. She opened it to reveal a stunning picture of you and Steve; your hands cupping his face, foreheads touching. "Jules," you smiled and but your lip, getting emotional over the beautiful moment she captured perfectly.

Soon Bucky and Jules left you to your own to celebrate, and you did, your night filled with declarations of love and delicate touches.

And years later, the picture was hanging off the wall of Steve's and your house, adorned in a golden frame. You were lucky enough to marry your hero, and love him more and more every day for the rest of your lives.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #Steve Rogers x Female Reader #steve rogers #steve rogers imagines #avengers imagine #avenger!reader #MCU fic #avengers #bucky barnes #original character

[putschki1969]

Hikaru//’s Free Writing Vol.#2

Note: This is my English translation of Hikaru//’s Free Writing Vol.#2. Please enjoy!

『teamLab Borderless Forgetting Time Within “Art without Borders”』〜 Hikaru//’s Free Writing Vol.#2〜

Hello, this is Hikaru//. In this second column I will be doing another "report" just like I did in Vol.#1. I was super thrilled on the day of the shoot because I have always been interested in this place! This time we went to... 『MORI Building DIGITAL ART MUSEUM: EPSON teamLab Borderless』 !

The nearest stations are Aomi Station on the Yurikamome Line or Tokyo Teleport Station on the Rinkai Line. In the stations you will see lots of posters guiding you to the venue. When you look at all the ads you will get even more excited!

At the venue itself visitors are asked to wear a mask as a measure against COVID-19. You also need to disinfect you hands at the entrance. If you wish you can also get disposable vinyl gloves. On the left side of the entrance there are also lots of coin lockers where you can store your luggage. You should definitely make use of that...I recommend going inside carrying as little as possible! When entering the first room your temperature is measured with a thermo camera.

After the temperature measurement there is this huge message plastered to the wall. What do they mean by "wandering"? That’s what I asked myself when I saw these words. But once you have experienced it all, the words will make sense *laughs*  Well then, let’s go inside! You have three options at the beginning. Many museums have a certain route that you need to follow in order to enjoy everything properly but with "TeamLab Borderless" it’s up to you where you want to go, you can go wherever you feel like going. Being led by your feelings is the best way to enjoy art!

I really like butterflies so I am going to the "Butterfly House" first. Butterflies are flying all over the room! If you try touching the butterflies because you think they are so beautiful and cute they will crumble and fall to the floor...The butterflies born here jump out of the room and move on to join the other art in the museum. So you don’t have to feel sad about saying goodbye to the butterflies since you will meet them again soon, you only have to take a few steps to see them flying around in various places.

After chasing butterflies I went to the "Forest of Flowers and People, Lost and Reborn". There are flowers all around the ground and across the walls! Flowers will appear where people are standing and after a while they scatter again, when you stay at a single place for a longer time the flowers will bloom. It’s a very photogenic space. It's large as it is but since there are so many mirrors the space feels even wider! ♪ You can easily take a ton of selfies here *laughs*. Enjoy the various flowers! There are some smaller rooms with several little spaces where the work is displayed on monitors. Also, you can see some animals decorated with flowers moving along the walls. Please try to touch those animals and see what happens ♪

After encountering the animals I entered a space with a big waterfall. The flow of water changes when people stand or sit on it and when you stay there for a while flowers will start to bloom. On the walls where the water doesn’t flow you can see all kinds of art. What might happen when you touch the flowing kanji? Please experience how the art changes when you manage to touch it!

"Team Lab Borderless" is a permanent exhibition but depending on the season you can see lots of different art! Right now you can experience a special "seasonal exhibition", I got to see it. iI’s amazing art that feels reminiscent of Japanese paintings! Apparently this is the first time the exhibition, “Proliferating Immense Life” is open to the public in Japan. Even though it’s a seasonally limited exhibition I would like to talk a little about the art. In the “Flowers - Layered Ultrasubjective Space” you can drown within countless semi-transparent images of hydrangea from June to July. The space “Memory of Topography“ depicts a rural mountain landscape of varying elevations. The scenery instills in the viewer a feeling of eternal permanence. From June to August you can enjoy lush rice fields and crepe myrtles. With the flow of real time the scenery is continuously changing so when I was there, thunder struck and it rained down heavily onto the rice fields (※ Please note that there is no actual water in this exhibition).

In the “Forest of Resonating Lamps” you can experience the sensation of being surrounded by the soft light of lamps whose colour scheme changes as people stand nearby. This production is very much reminiscent of the hydrangea you can see from June to July. The lamps are specially arranged and they are hand-made from Murano glass (Venetian glass). If you take a close look at each individual lamp you will notice that they all look different. The seasonal art is constantly changing. Even the staff members do not know when something new will be installed. So I consider myself very lucky to have been able to experience all these seasonal exhibitions.

Now, let's return to the permanent art. When you continue onwards you will be joined by crows as you enter the “Cave Universe”. This work is to be viewed from a position close to the entrance. The work begins when crows of “Crows are Chased and the Chasing Crows are Destined to be Chased as well” enter into the Cave Universe in the middle of the aisle.  If you stand at position close to the entrance the boundary between the wall and the floor disappears, the real space dissolves and the lines drawn by the trails of the crows appear to be drawn in three dimensions in the space. Eventually the body becomes immersed in the artwork world, and the border between the artwork and the viewer dissolves. I really want everyone to experience this!

The next space you will reach is "Wander through the Crystal World". This interactive installation artwork uses an accumulation of light points to create a sculptural body. The Crystal World is created when people use their phones to send elements of the natural world into it. It's beautiful and fun ♪

Then we continue towards the “Athletics Forest“ area. In the “Weightless Forest of Resonating Life” you can be three dimensionally immersed by various objects of light that move as though they’re defying gravity, they will also be changing colours... I tried putting an object above my head *laughs*. The “Aerial Climbing through a Flock of Colored Birds“ space features connected boards hanging in mid-air on ropes, creating a floating three dimensional space. You can train your body by trying to navigate the space in mid-air *laughs*.

In “Graffiti Nature - High Mountains and Deep Valleys, Red List” various creatures drawn by visitors live in a large, three-dimensional space consisting of slopes with different elevations. Challenge yourself and draw one of the endangered animals! I did it, I completed my drawing! Once you hand your drawing to a staff member it will appear within the space..It almost feels like you are a parent watching over your child *laughs* You start getting attached!

Last but not least I would like to introduce the "EN TEA HOUSE Genka-Tei". This is the only food and drink art space in the museum. The first thing you will notice when you enter the room is the strong aroma of tea. There are four types of tea, tea leaves from the mountains of Hizen in Kyushu are used. There is also a set menu with rich green tea ice cream filled with umami flavor and accompanied with shirotama. You have to order first at the reception. Then you will be guided to your seat. Tatami mats are used for the tables and chairs, making it a relaxing space. Tea and ice cream are brought in, the art starts once the set is placed in front of you. Make tea and a flower blooms inside the teacup. Flowers bloom infinitely as long as there is tea. Smell, taste, sight... It was a space where all senses were stimulated, a truly healing experience.

There are so many great artworks in "Team Lab Borderless", I cannot possibly write about all of them. I hope you will visit and experience it all for yourself! These are the words written at the exit.

This time, I was wanderiing around the museum for about two and a half hours without a map. Even though I spent so much time there I still couldn’t go everywhere, I only saw parts of it. There is still so much left to discover. I wanna come here again! And here’s a bonus pic for you! I was so absorbed in the art that I didn’t really take too many pictures of myself... *laughs*.

I had a great and exciting time, this experience gave me the opportunity to reflect on many things! Well then, until next time! Text = Hikaru// Photography = Yuki Ohashi, Hikaru//

#kalafina #hikaru #otaku #spice #hikaru// #helical #h-el-ical// #spice series #Hikaru//の自由綴文 #Hikaru//’s Free Writing #text heavy #picture heavy

[voidsentprinces]

My brain on Stormblood

Talk to guard. Go Ala Mhigo. Talk to Book Son. Grab Aetheryte. Grab Choco Route. Talk to Raubahn. Walk Five Hundred Miles and I would walk five hundred more just to be the man who forgot the lyrics to this song. Talk to Lyse but in a River. Talk to Lyse but in a desert. AN ILLUSION! What are you hiding? An entire fucking town apparently. Lack to Grand Pappy. Grab all the aetherytes. Talk to Grand Pappy. Talk to Lyse. Talk to her again but over that way. Talk to her again but over there. Now over there. Once more this time with feeling. Talk to Grand Pappy. Talk to Lyse.

Talk to Cool Catte. Talk to Meffrid. Run over to entrance. Talk to Cool Catte. Ride forth unto the desert. Talk to Cool Catte. They hear some enemies. PUNCH THE THINGS! Talk to Cool Catte. Right Talk to Cool Catte again. Ride into da base. Talk to Raubahn. Wathc Cool Catte almost fangirl all over him. Talk to Raubahn. Meet up with some dudes. Spend 10 hours realizing you can’t damage this robot worth shit. Oh and Roelean is there too. Conquer Raubahn (Savage). Celebrate. Talk to Cool Catte. Teleport to Rhaglr’s Reach. Run to Meffrid to the PEAKS!

Talk to Meffrid. Ride out to the village. Talk to Lyse. Grab Chocobo and Aetheryte. Talk to village chief. Watch him such down Lyse. Talk to people. Offer to get medicine for lady and rocks for a dude. Punch somethings for the medicine and pick up a bag of heavy fucking rocks. Teleport to Ala Gannha just to flex. Give rocks to Roe. Give medicine to lady. Talk to Lyse. Run out and save dude...atop a sick ziggurat. Punch some rats. Punch some more rats. Watch dude run off. Go to the bottom. Wait a place. Punch a thing. Go talk to Lyse. IN THIS CORNER WEIGHING ONE-HUNDRED TWENTY POUNDS IT FORDOLA AND THE SKULLLLLLLLSSSS! Teleport back to base. Talk to Village Chief. Actually get a couple recruits head on back.

Talk to Grand Pappy. Talk to Grand Pappy again. Talk to dude. Talk to People. Talk to Sneklady. Talk to more people. Talk to dude. Pick some herbage. Talk to Roe. Pick up pendant. Talk to Goth Wife. Talk to Book Son. Teleport to Base. Talk to Raubahn. Talk to Sword Daughter. Talk to Pipin. Walk over to place. Punch some Garleans. Talk to Pipin. OH SHIT STUFF GOES DOWN! Punch some Garleans. Punch some more Garleans. Punch some Wolf Men. Punch Fordo--

ITS ZENOS YAE GALVUS! BRRRRNEEERRR NEEEERR NEEERRR NEEEERRR BRRRRNEEEER NEEER NEEEEER!

Oh shit he kicked everyone ass. Oh shit, he kicked your ass. Oh...he went limp and fucked off. Alright now pat Meffrid’s body down for goods. Head to the hospital talk about things. Be depressed. Teleport to Base. Talk to Raubahn. Devise a new plan. Lets liberate us a Doma! Pray thee return to the Rising Stones. Talk to Book Son. Talk to Tataru. Teleport to Limsa. Talk to Sword Daughter. Watch Tataru roast a fucking Pirate Captain and black mail him into taking us to Kugane. Pray thee return to the Rising Stones. Talk to people. Teleport to Limsa. Teleport to Arcanist Guild. Talk to Pirate Captain. Get on a boat. Unlock Sirensong Sea. PUNCH SEA CREATURES! THIS DUNGEON ACTUALLY HAS PRETTY FUN MECHANIC BOSSES! Leave Sirensong Sea.

Arrive in Kugane. Talk to Captain. Talk to everyone else. Grab all the aetheryte. Teleport to Shiokaze Holstery. Talk to the gang. Meet Weasel. Talk to Weasel. Walk around with Weasel. Enter building with Weasel. Talk to Weasel. Get a picture from Book Son. Flexing his drawing skills. Show it around. Talk to Lyse. Stare at a fish. The fish fucking cusses her out. Talk to the Styrofoam and Balloon Bastard Child. Talk to him again. Teleport to Ruby Bazaar. Enter. Talk to people. Leave. Meet the product of styrofoam and balloon fucking in sneakers at the docks. Its treason then. PUNCH THE NAMAZU! PUNCH SOME GARLEANS! Smoke bomb your way to the Bazaar. Meet Donatello. Hide under a bridge. Donatello is a sweet bro and covers for you. Talk to Weasel. Talk to people. Go to a barracks. Wait around for 90 years. Mr. Miyagi has joined your party! Go to Donatello. Take a boat to Ruby Sea.

Talk to Sword Daughter. SWIM ACROSS THE SEA! Talk to Lyse. SWIM SOME MORE! Walk up some stairs. Talk to Lyse. Talk to Matthew McConaughey. Swim! Run across magma! Spy. Swim! Accuse Donatello. Your distrust was misplaced. Donatello is a true bro. SWIM! AND IN THIS CORNER FIVE TIME WORLD CHAMPION OF OUTFITS YOU WISH WERE IN GAME TO GLAMOUR! ITS YOTSUYU! Mr. Miyagi uses distraction! Its Super Effective. SWIM! PUNCH SOME SEA MONSTERS! RUN! Talk to Lyse. Attune to aetheryte. Talk to Sword Daughter, Talk to Lyse. Talk to Roe. Talk to Lyse. Talk to Lady. Talk to dude. Talk to other dude. GRAB ALL THE FUCKING AETHER YOU CAN! FUCK STORMBLOOD CURRENT PLACEMENT! Ooo piece of candy. You discovered a dude. Find another dude. Give him medicine. Ride across the sand. Punch a Sea Monster. Punch another sea monster. Take 15 years cutting up a sea monster. Teleport to Onokoro! Talk to people get rewards. Look around the place. Talk to dude. Spent 3 years putting meat out and punching sharks. Walk around. Save a dude from Raphael!  Talk to dude. Teleport to Onokoro. Talk to Lyse and Sword Daughter. Talk to Roe. Swim across the ocean. Talk to Lyse. Walk around and enter cave. Talk to Sword Daughter. YOU FOUND THE TURTLE HIDE OUT! Talk to Donatello. Talk to Leonardo. Attune to Aetheryte. Run up a hill. PUNCH A CRAB! Talk to Donatello. You can now breath underwater. Go for swim on a Manta Ray. UNDER DA SEA! UNDER DA SEA! Bug some Au Ra. Talk to Yugiri’s parents. UNDER DA SEA~! Use a lantern, track down a piece of jewelry. Talk to Sword Daughter. Teleport to Turtle Base. Talk to turtles. SWIM AWAAAAAY! Talk to Sword Daughter. Break in Raphael’s Base. Punch Turtles! Punch turtles! Punch turtles. Talk to Sword Daughter. SUMMON A PRIMAL! Punch Turtles. Talk to Sword Daughter. Unlock Pool of Tribute. FIGHT PARTY GRANDPA!

THE SEAS PART FOR WE ALONE! WILD AND PURE AND FOREVER FREE! PWAHAHAHAHAAH! RESILIENT SOULS I SALUTE YOU!

Party Grandpa defeated. Run away. Shit goes down. Swim to a village. Talk to people in hiding. Talk to other people. Talk to Mr. Miyagi. Walk to Yanxia.

Walk through the meadows. Talk to Mr. Miyagi. Get a cold welcome. Attune to Aetheryte. Chill by a pool. Talk to Mr. Miyagi. DIVE BITCH! Swim Swim Swim! Discover Ninja Hideout. Talk to people. Aetheryte broke. Talk to Lizard Wife! Teleport to Namai. Get all the aetheryte currents you can. Seriously fuck Stormblood Current Placement. Talk to Lizard Wife. Pose as a merchant. Talk to people. Talk to Lizard Wife. Run through the meadows. Talk to lost girl. PUNCH SOME CATERPILLARS! Talk to lost girl. Find a flower PUNCH A CATERPILLAR! Talk to lost girl. Teleport to Namai. Ride up a hill. Talk to girl. Get chewed out by her brother. Teleport to Namai. Talk to Lizard Wife. Talk to Lizard Wife but in hiding. Garleans came and took people away. Ride out! Talk to Lizard Wife. Put some Garleans to Sleep. Ride out. Talk to Lizard Wife. Put more Garleans to sleep. Get to a cliff. Talk to Lizard Wife. Put more Garleans to sleep. Talk to Lizard Wife. Stand guard. Walk up to Lizard Wife and offer a smoothie. Change in front of your Lizard Wife, you marry in July. Pose as office. Salute some schmucks. Talk to Lizard Wife. Approach group of people. Get rejected. Lizard Wife is depressed. The marriage is postponed. Support her by putting Garlean Guards back and throwing cocaine on them. Find Lizard Wife. Talk to Lizard Wife. Teleport to Namai. Go to lake. Swim to Ninja hide out. Have a calm and collective meet--Lizard Wife stormed out. Talk to Mr. Miyagi. Teleport to Namai. Talk to Lizard Wife. Ride out. Meet Lizard Wife by dock. Talk to Lizard Wife. Go to rundown place. Talk to Lizard Wife.

Dansa med oss Klappa era hnder Gr som vi gr Ta ngra steg t vnster Lyssna och lr Missa inte chansen Nu are vi hr med CARAMELLZENOS!

You punch Zenos in the face. He liked it. He now has a raging boner and beats your ass. You broke a horn off his helmet. He proposes to you. You’ll think about it. You and Lizard Wife escape. Talk to Sword Daughter. Ride out to Ruby Sea. Ride across town. Talk to Lyse. Go forth to Nagrand.

You’ve come to Nagrand...so majestic. Talk to Lyse. Ride to Reunion. Grab Aetheryte. Bug Xaela merchants. Tell them all you are just window shopping. Talk to Xaela. There’s a spy among us! FIND THE MOLE! ...oh find the MOL rather. It could be anyone. The Xaela in dark colors, the xaela in dark colors, or the bright pink xaela standing out like a sore thumb. Talk to Mol Wife. Ride out to meadows. PUNCH TREES! Off Mol Wife Trees as a dowry. She sells them. Talk to Mol Wife. Run up a hill. Talk to Fratboy Hien. Grab Aetherytes NEAR FAR WHEREVER THEY ARE! Teleport to Reunion. Talk to Fratboy. Run up a hill. You’re at Sheep Village. Talk to Fratboy. Talk to Sheep Wife. Talk to Sheep Wife’s Mother. Nice to meet you ma’am. I’ll have her back by 10 o’clock. SHE CAN SEE THE FUTURE! Ask her when theres perfect weather for you and Cirina’s Wedding. Talk to Fratboy. Walk out. Talk to Fratboy again. Fratboy wants a contest. Talk to Mr. Miyagi. Head out into the mountains. Spent 12 hours putting down food and punching bears. Return...I dunno you either have more or less meat than Fratboy. Return to village. Talk to Sheep Wife. Ride out to the meadows. Talk to Lyse. Pick up shit, literally. Return to Lyse. Return to Mol. Talk to Sheep Wife. Have a picnic. Talk to Fratboy. Ride out. PUNCH SOME XAELA! Run out more. Talk to Lyse. Ride out further. PUNCH MORE XAELA. Talk to Mr. Miyagi. Unlock Bardam’s Mettle. PUNCH AN OX! Do a non-fight fight. PUNCH A BIRD! Leave. Get sweet ass bird! FUCK THE POLICE! Oh fuck you’ve been arrested. Talk to Little Sun. Talk to Little Sun’s Brother. Attune to aetheryte. Talk to Little Sun’s Brother. Go down below. DIVE BITCH! Pick some funky ass grass. Teleport to Dawn Throne. Talk to Little Sun’s Brother. Talk to Little Sun. Talk to Shaman. Find some Sheep! Talk to Fratboy. Find more sheep. Talk to Shaman. Return to Little Sun. Talk to Little Sun. Talk to Mr. Miyagi. Run yo ass across the continent. Stand on some stones, take in the view. Talk to Mr. Miyagi. PUNCH SOME YETIS! Talk to Xaela. IN DEATH DO OUR SOULS SING! Sadu Wife has fucking landed! I REPEAT! SADU WIFE HAS LANDED HELL FUCKING YES! Talk to Sadu. She’s too good for you. You could never ask her hand in marriage. She’s a free agent. Talk to other Dotharl. Talk to Mr. Miyagi. Talk to Sadu. Run out the desert. PUNCH SOME DOGS! Talk to Mr. Miyagi. Teleport to Dawn Throne. Talk to Little Sun. Talk to Fratboy. Fly to Sheep Wife. Talk to Grandma. Inspire other Mols. Talk Sheep Wife. PUNCH SOME XAELA! PUNCH SOME MORE XAELA! PUNCH SOME MORE XAELA! PUNCH LITTLE SUN A LITTLE! PUNCH SADU! She summoned the apocalypse...that’s hot. PUNCH SADU’S STONES! KNOCK SADU OUT! PUNCH LITTLE SON! GRAB THE THING! Garleans show up. PUNCH GARLEANS! PUNCH ROBOT PUNCH GARLEANS! PROTECT SADU! THEYRE FUCKED! Alright its over. Talk to Sheep Wife. Celebrate victory with Mol. Talk to Fratboy. Teleport to Dawn Throne. Talk to Little Sun. Fly to Sadu. Talk to Sadu. AN ILLUSION! WHAT ARE YOU HIDING!?! Go back to Yanxia.

Talk to Fratboy. Fly across Yanxia. Find crevice. Talk to Sword Daughter. Enter like a boss. Talk to people. Attune to Aetheryte. Talk to Book Son. Teleport to Kugane. Go to Ruby Bazaar. Talk to Weasel and Tataru. Leave go to Markets. Track down FedEx. Get package. Return to Ruby Bazaar. Talk to Tataru. Teleport to House of the Fierce. Talk to Book Son. Talk to people. Go out on patrol with Sword Daughter. Meet some merchants. PUNCH THE MERCHANTS! Meet Sword Daughter. Talk to Sword Daughter. Teleport to House of the Fierce. Talk to people. Talk to Fratboy. Fly out to Yanxia. Talk to Fratboy. Find Katana. Talk to Fratboy. Return to House of the Fierce. Talk to people. Take a nap. Talk to people. Fly out to Yanxia. Talk to Fratboy. Unlock Doma Castle. FUCK DOMA CASTLE! PUNCH A ROBOT! PUNCH ANOTHER ROBOT! PUNCH CYBER ROELEAN 2077! MR. MIYAGI NOOOOOOOOOOO! Mourn Gosetsu. Talk to Fratboy. Talk to pirate dude. Go to place. Watch speech. Leave place. Take ship back. Talk to Book Son. Talk to Pirate dude. Take ship back to Kugane. Go to Ruby Bazaar. Talk to Weasel. Tataru is staying behind. Go to docks. Talk to Tataru. Say goodbye. Go back to Limsa. Get greeted by Admiral Wife. Pray thee return to the Rising Stones. Talk to people. Teleport to Castrum Oriens.

Report to Raubahn. Krile has been captured. Where you gonna get your Alphinaud blackmail now? Talk to Grand Pappy. Go to Rhalgr’s Reach. Talk to Cool Catte and Grand Pappy. Swolboi arrives. Meet Swolboi by a bridge. PUNCH SOME GARLEANS! PUNCH SOME CANNONS! PUNCH FORDOL--.... ? ... ? ...Okay punch Fordola for real this time. WE’VE TAKEN THE BRIDGE! Go out and punch Garleans. Return to Lyse. Talk to Guard. Cross bridge. Go to Cool Catte’s house. Attune to Aetheryte. Grab all the currents finally fucking avaliable in this region. Talk to Cattes. Meet with sneks. Talk to sneks. Follow Snekladies. Attune to aetheryte. Infilitrate Sneklaire. Unlock Emanation.

I WILL FREE YOU FROM YOUR HATE! REST YOUR WEARY SOULS UPON MY BOSOM!

TOOOOONNNIIIIGHHTT IIIINNN TIMMME YOOOUUU SHALLLL FOLLOW! STRIKE A POSE NOW VOGUE! PUNCH LAKHSMI! Leave.

Get into an arguement with Snekladies. Cheer up Sword Daughter. Return to other snekladies. Return to Cool Catte Inn. Fly across. Talk to Guard. Enter other side of the Peaks.

Talk to Lyse. Talk to Guards. Attune to Aetheryte. Talk to Raubahn. Patrol with Sword Daughter. PUNCH THINGS! Talk to Sword Daughter. OH SHIT ZENOS GAVE FORDOLA A CANNON! SHIT GOES DOWN YO! Kick down the door...slowly. See to the injuried. Grandpappy dead. Priorities...grab all the currents you can finally get in the region. Fuck Stormblood current placement. Leave place. Look for straglers. PUNCH THINGS! Go talk to Raubahn. Go back to gate. Enter. PUNCH GARLEANS! PUNCH ROBOT! Meet with Roe. Flex to show courage. Talk to Roe. PUNCH GARLEANS! PUNCH MORE GARLEANS! Talk to Roe. PUNCH GARLEANS! Talk to Twins. Unlock Castrum Albania. FUCK THIS PLACE! Leave. Talk to Lyse. Go meet Raubahn. Listen to the time he became the Prince of Bel-Aire. Talk to Lyse. PUNCH SOME GUYS! Talk to Lyse. Teleport to Rhalgr’s Reach. Lyse evolves into Red Queen! Fight her in a cutscnee. Talk to the Red Queen. Teleport back to the Peaks. Fly to Pipin. Enter the Lochs.

Attuned to Aetheryte. Take 20 hours to get that aether current atop that one bridge. Fuck the Loch’s Aether Current Placement and grab all the ones you can. Talk to Lyse. Edgecred is here. Strip Tease appears and gives you White Aurecite like boss. Run across the salt of a million WoW Expansions. Investigate the salt mines. Set off a car alarm. PUNCH ROBOTS! PUNCH SMALL ROBOTS! Run across the salt plains. Ignore all mobs. PUNCH FOG MACHINES! PUNCH GIANT GORILLA! Meet a grandpa. Follow Lyse. Head by a lake. Talk to Lyse. Jump into water. Talk to Lyse. Swim to opening. Infilitrate steps. Talk to Edgecred. Mission Impossible a place. OPEN WIDE THE GATES! RIOT! PUNCH GARLEANS! PUNCH MORE GARLEANS! Break into lab! PUNCH FORDOLA NOW WITH TOOTHPASTE BEAM! VICTORY! Attune to Aetheryte. Get the last aether current here. Talk to people. Go back to Porta Praetoria. Talk to Raubahn. Meet with Seedseer, give her a flirty wink. Talk to Admiral Wife. Get slapped on the ass. Make things awkward by making out with Aymeric in front of everyone. Talk to Raubahn. He gives Pipin his very cursed sword. Run across the salt plains. Meet Pipin in front of a castle. Talk to Book Son. Run to the side gardens. Talk to Book Son. PUNCH SOME WOLF GUYS! PUNCH A WOLF DUDE! Talk to Book Son. Return to Pipin. Unlock Ala Mhigo. PUNCH A ROBOT! THE SOUL REBELS! PUNCH BILL NYE THE SCIENCE GUY! OH SHIT IS ZENOS YAE GALVUS! Fight for each other’s hand in marriage! That didn’t phase him. Follow him to the Royal Menagerie. Flirt with him for an hour. He fused with a dragon. Unlock Royal Menagarie. PUNCH A DRAGON! GRAB ONTO DRAGON’S SIDE! PUNCH DRAGON SOME MORE! Leave. Watch Zenos punch himself. Listen to a chorus of Ala Mhigans. Return to Rhalgr’s Reach. Talk to Lyse. She leaves the Scions. WE CANT STOP HERE THIS IS ALA MHIGO COUNTRY!

#{ long post }

[sonorous-cicada]

Shisui Uchiha’s Journal #2

Journal Entry #21 June 27th 

There was this stray dog that lived near the Uchiha compound. Last year, she tore up Yui-obaa’s flower beds while chasing a rabbit. I decided to name her Chika, scattered flowers. Actually, I let Itachi name her when I took her in. He picked some lofty name, I don’t even remember what it was, but it did not fit her at all. She’s a good dog. Every time I come home from a mission she starts following me around from the gates to the Hokage tower then back to the compound. I trained her to piss on Elder Daichi’s leg whenever he walks past our engawa. I, of course, think that it’s hilarious. Itachi didn’t think so. He thought it was ‘childish’. I saw him slip her a treat the next time she did it, though. 

Chika’s pregnant right now. Hana-chan thinks she got knocked up by some Inuzuka out for a joy run. Apparently the pups have more chakra than normal pups would have. Sasuke-chan keeps begging me for one of them. Unfortunately for the squirt, if they’re Inuzuka, they have to go back to their clan. I suppose if one of them doesn't have the potential to manipulate chakra, then he could have one. Sasuke would love that. He keeps talking about it like he already has a pup. It's adorable, really. You know who also loves dogs? Itachi. He loves all animals, really. Anything. Crows, cats, dogs, weasels. Ha. I kid on that last part, of course.

We had a mission a few months ago where the enemy’s jutsu started to destroy the forest. Anyway, we were running through the tree branches, just trying to get the hell out of there when we see this bird nest with baby birds just sitting there with the mama bird. And Itachi being Itachi could not just leave well enough alone, no. This guy took the entire nest, mama and all and just ran for it. It was sweet, in a way. He's always doing stuff like that. Saving baby birds, kittens, puppies. He's actually the one that discovered my dog.

She was just a mangy thing when we found her. Hana-chan gave us a cream for the mange and agreed to dogsit when I was on missions. She's come a long way, but she's a good girl and so worth it. I'm actually sitting in a tree branch right now. We're waiting for some sort of patrol that intel said would head up this way. I picked her up this ridiculous bow in Tea Country. It's pink. I might even ask Mikoto-oba to sew some sequins on it for extra pizazz. Girls like that kind of stuff and she's worth it.

Itachi would think I'm being ridiculous, spending so much time on this dog. But she's a good girl. She really is. My father never allowed us to have a pet. He thought they were too dirty. Sometimes I wish that I could just move away with Itachi somewhere secluded and silent. I imagine us living unremarkable lives with no last name. Away from all of this drama. In my fantasy, though, it's just us.

I would love to own a pet store or even a feed store. I think in another life Itachi would have loved to be a chef or a scholar. Can you imagine that? Everyday I would lock up the shop and come home to him hovering over his books. The smell of paper and ink in the air. He might look a little frustrated at being unable to piece together some ancient manuscript. Maybe I'd buy dango on the way home. Nah, that'd actually be a bad idea. He would never risk getting the historic papers and parchments sticky. He's picky like that. He might come visit me in the shop after doing his research for the day. Maybe we could stock dog bones together or hell, I don't know, dragon feed or something.

Do they make dragon feed? I've seen a lot of crazy things in this world, it wouldn't surprise me. Dr. Yamanaka gave me a prompt list. I was supposed to write today about "what motivated me to keep living". Apparently I'm on some sort of suicide watch list. It's somewhat insulting, really. So the answer to Dr. Psycho-bull is this: Itachi, Sasuke and my dog. They keep me going. They motivate me. I want to keep living for them. I want to watch my dog run through the training grounds and knock over a bunch of genin. I want to wake up in the mornings with Itachi. I want to rub my knuckles in Sasuke's hair just to see him turn that tomato red.

July 2nd update: She had her pups! There were four in the litter total, three boys and one girl. Two of the boys and girl were able to mold chakra. Sasuke was beside himself when he found out the fourth pup, a boy, was normal. He named him Shiro. Unimaginative, in my opinion, it is the fourth pup, after all. It made the kid happy, though. That's what matters. It made my boyfriend smile too. That was rare and worth all the gold in the world.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Itachi held back the tears in his eyes and looked towards the stars. He remembered that day. He remembered the dog giving birth. In his will, Shisui had left the dog to Hana. The man knew that Itachi never had time for a dog. As busy as Shisui was, Itachi was busier. He also didn't have any other friends who could care for a dog... Kakashi-senpai's pack lived in the summons realm and Chika could not. Sometimes when he was at his lowest, Itachi would visit Chika. He would throw the glittery pink ball and give her a new ribbon. How could he not? Shisui loved that dog, and he will always love Shisui.

Tucking the worn leather book under his mattress, he closed his eyes and fell to sleep.

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AN: If you have the thyme, help water the fandom garden and drop a line ;) Comments help the garden grow. Thank you for reading!!!! I’m gonna try and post one a day until July 15th. 

Hana refers to Hana Inuzuka, Kiba’s elder sister, the veterinarian. Shiro is Itachi and Sasuke’s pet dog in canon.

Cross posted to Ao3 and Ffn.net ;)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24729784/chapters/59882332#workskin

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13616731/1/Shisui-Uchiha-s-Journal

#shisui uchiha #itachi x shisui #itachi uchiha #Sasuke Uchiha #Uchiha Clan #naruto fanfiction #naruto fandom #Shisui's Journal #journal

[curewhimsy]

I’m gonna start writing my fanfic about my Animal Crossing island 🤔

Here’s the summary I have

———

—PREMISE AND PLOT—

Moondrop Island is a tiny uncharted island somewhere in the northern Caribbean Sea, originally inhabited by only furries—two-legged talking animal creatures! Furries are not found anywhere else on Earth, aside from tiny uncharted islands. A long time ago, furries and humans coexisted. But furries eventually were mistreated. An elder furry with magical powers erased all humans’ memory of them, and they all fled to small uncharted islands, hidden by mystic forces. There were no humans who knew of the existence of these furries, or of these seemingly mystical islands, until a small boat sailing from an island in the Bahamas in got into a shipwreck during what was supposed to be a three-hour whale-watching tour. Everyone on the boat survived, and miraculously washed up on the gently moonlit shores of Moondrop Island 2:00 that morning. Tom Nook takes in the castaways, gives them homes on the island, and lets them pay with a spontaneous form of currency he comes up with—Nook Miles. He offers the Nook Miles as a reward for improving the island. In the meantime, he and everyone else are putting together all their knowledge and trying to build a GPS that can track the island’s location in the world to lead the castaways back home. However, since the furries cannot go back to the human world and show themselves to people, that would mean... they’d have to say goodbye forever...

—CHARACTERS—

Pastell Sugar (Original character (self-insert) Age- 22 Birthday- February 4 Favorite song- My Place Very naive and expressive, animated, eccentric. Can be quite moody. Some may say Pastell is annoying. Pastell’s moods can come in as many “colors” as the rainbow. Pastell is creative and likes to make the mundane things exciting. She also likes to exaggerate things. Pastell likes to create things such as art or decorations, and pretend she’s doing magic in the process. Pastell gets along well with Haku, and Pekoe. Rodeo is her snack buddy. Haku Yowane (Vocaloid) Age- 24 Birthday- November 21 Favorite song- Stale Cupcakes Haku is wistful and emotional, and at times dreary. A bit of a crybaby. Likes music, but is too shy to perform in front of others. She has a plush cat named Snowbell that she carries around everywhere. She gets along quite well with Pastell and Goldie. Haku is a very caring person who likes to help with her friends’ problems. However, she can be hard on herself a lot. She also likes writing stories and poems. Before ending up on Moondrop, Haku’s friends back at home were Miku, Neru, Luka, Kaito, Akaito, and her older brother Dell. Rhona Aequor (Original character) Age- 24 Birthday- March 10 Favorite song- K.K. Bossa Stoic and mysterious. Appears strict, but is misunderstood. Actually a very kind person. A lover of all things related to water and the ocean. A marine biologist. Loves fish and marine creatures. She is very fascinated with Flo and Sly, who are both marine creatures... but as furries. Rhona loves to swim, and is a free-diver. Rhona is calm and collected... usually. She can go nuts about fish and can spend hours at the museum, either looking at fish exhibits, or chattering with Blathers. Back at home, she has a girlfriend, Nagisa. Rhona often thinks and worries about Nagisa, longing to see her again and to let her know she’s safe. Nico Yazawa (Love Live!) Age- 22 Birthday- July 22 Favorite song- K.K. Bubblegum Nico is a dweeb. But she still thinks she’s better than you. Nico is quite self-centered and troublesome. She’s usually the one causing the most drama out of the group. She especially doesn’t get along with Luana... at first, anyway. Nico wants to be the biggest pop-star on the island! (Sorry, Audie.) And soon, the world! But Nico has very bad luck and things keep on getting in her way! Such as tarantulas! Nico actually gets along well with Vladimir, because they’re both too short to be taken seriously. She ends up keeping a talking pet tarantula in her house named Terry. Back at home, Nico’s friends are Maki, Eli, and Nozomi. Rin Hoshizora (Love Live!) Age- 20 Birthday- November 1 Favorite song- Rockin’ K.K. Rin is cheerful, energetic, and the life of the party. She is spontaneous and likes animals a lot. She even has her own catchphrase, much like a furry... it’s “nya!” When Rin discovers furries, and the fact humans mistreated them, she feels angry at humanity. Rin gets along great with Audie. Rin is usually the one throwing all the parties on the island, and organizing the fun sport and game events. She is usually filled with energy. But deep inside, she can be quite emotional. Back at home, Rin’s best friend is Hanayo. Her other friends are Kotori, Umi, and Honoka. Luana Kai (Original character) Age- 23 Birthday- July 7 Favorite song- K.K. Adventure Luana is a fearless, impulsive daredevil. She leaps before she looks, and she’s brave to a fault. She can be obnoxiously brash. She’s also the one who got everyone into this mess... Luana was the captain of the small boat, When the storm came, she refused to turn the boat back. Luana is a huge tomboy and has always dreamed of being a pirate. She likes the ocean as well, and has a intriguing fascination with geography and geology. She doesn’t know a thing about technology, but her knowledge goes to good use with making the GPS. Nico and Luana are rivals. Back at home, her friends she left behind are Umiko, and her older sister Oliana. Teto Kasane (Vocaloid) Age- 21 Birthday- April 1 Favorite song- K.K. Stroll Teto comes off as weird and hyperactive. She likes memes and uses them a lot in conversation. She is often called annoying. However, Teto is an awkward and modest girl who just isn’t that good at making friends. She is often cheerful and likes to help people. She can be clumsy and sometimes doesn’t know what to say and is awkward. Teto has a big appetite and likes to bake and cook, especially sweets. Teto gets along well with Bettina, who understands her well. Back at home, her friends were Gumi, Gakupo, Meiko, Rin, and Len. Octavia Scherzando (Original character) Age- 25 Birthday- October 30 Favorite song- K.K. Fusion Outgoing and charismatic, yet sentimental. The most mature one of the human group. Also the responsible one. The fun “mom friend.” Her hobby is music. She plays the electric bass and piano. She also dances. Rumor has it that she once was a school idol back in high school, but she won’t talk about it. Apparently she also used to sing. But something must have happened, because nobody has really heard her sing either. Can her mysterious past ever be revealed? Octavia gets along well with Shep. She keeps a talking black bass in her house. The fish, not the instrument. Back at home, she leaves behind her close friend Aria, and friends from high school, Hibiki, Ursula, Santana, and Ruya. Animal Residents Furries have the same lifespans as humans, meaning they age the same in years. 18 in human years is 18 in furry years, regardless of the species of the furry. Flo the penguin Age- 23 Birthday- September 2 Flo is a mostly laid-back penguin, though she can have quite a temper when it comes to people being unfair. Her hobby is music, and her style is mostly punk. Pekoe the cub Age- 19 Birthday- May 18 Pekoe is a very kind and sweet bear. She can be a bit timid, and sometimes worries she isn’t that interesting. She is a great listener and sometimes can be quirky. Audie the wolf Age- 26 Birthday- August 31 Audie is a very outgoing and expressive wolf. She can be excitable, and uses a lot of language like “fabulous.” She is unexpectedly very tough and can be a “mama bear,” fiercely protecting her friends in need. Shep the sheepdog Age- 24 Birthday- November 24 Shep is a fashionista, and a bit of a hipster. He’s always on top of what’s cool and unique. He talks in a way that’s almost hard to decipher for people who are unfamiliar to his “brand” of “lingo.” Portia the dalmatian Age- 25 Birthday- October 25 Portia is a glamorous and stylish young lady who loves fashion, and may seem a little self-absorbed at times. She doesn’t judge other people based on looks, however, Sly the alligator Age- 20 Birthday- November 15 Sly is an alligator who loves to play and work out. His favorite sport is football (the kind where you throw the ball and tackle.) He also likes to swim. He is always enthusiastic and raring to go, but is very patient and understanding towards those who can’t keep up with him. Vladimir the cub Age- 28 Birthday- August 2 Vladimir is a grumpy little bubblegum pink bear who is never taken seriously because he is small and cute. He is therefore always angry and annoyed with people. He gets along with Nico because of similar problems. He can be kind when not angered... just don’t call him adorable. Goldie the golden retriever Age- 21 Birthday- December 27 Goldie loves flowers and nature, and loves to be outdoors. She is calm, humble, and polite, but can be angered easily by people who think they’re better than others. She doesn’t really get along well with Shep... Rodeo the bull Age- 22 Birthday- October 29 Rodeo is a laid-back, gentle bull who loves things like flowers, snacks, watching the clouds drift by, and taking naps. He gets along well with Pastell for these reasons. He is very relaxed, but sometimes he likes to work out, at the prompt of Audie. Bettina the mouse Age- 20 Birthday- June 12 Bettina is a chipper, kind mouse who likes cooking. Her favorite foods are pasta dishes with cheese in them. She likes to read books, and her favorites are usually mystery novels or classic children’s literature.

—CHAPTERS AND SUMMARIES— (so far)

Pilot Episode- Luana, working part time as a resort in the Bahamas, was the captain of a small tour boat. Rhona was the assistant captain and tour guide for what was supposed to only be a three-hour whale-watching tour... When they headed for a storm out in the open sea, Luana was reckless and refused to turn back, even though Rhona warily advised her to retreat. All the passengers had a bad feeling about it. Pastell was sitting next to Haku, whom she had just met, and had been having a conversation with her. Nico and Rin had just met, and were sitting next to each other as well. Teto was meanwhile trying to make friends with Octavia, the “mysterious pretty lady” sitting in the shade. Her bouncy and hyper personality repelled most people, but Octavia found it endearing... Now everyone was panicking. The intense storm grew stronger, and eventually flipped over and wrecked the boat once it was out in the open sea. The strong current swept away the parts and passengers to a nearby mysterious island… Looking for Snowbell Shortly after everyone is conscious and brought to safety, there is relief that everyone on the boat had survived. However, thoughts in Haku’s mind are racing, and she’s too ashamed to tell the others why. Haku’s plush cat, Snowbell, which she took everywhere, is missing. When Haku came to, Snowbell was nowhere to be found. Snowbell is extremely precious to Haku, and she cannot be without her. Haku breaks down and tells everyone that she is missing her plush cat, and surprisingly, the she is responded to nicely and is offered help. However, Luana thinks Haku is being a crybaby. At one point Haku is about to give up, crying as she imagines Snowbell floating all alone in the ocean, lost forever. But Luana, who initially said Haku was overreacting, spots Snowbell behind some rocks on the beach. Just then, the tide begins to carry Snowbell away. Luana jumps straight into the rough tide and retrieves Snowbell for Haku, even getting scraped knees in the process. Haku concludes that Luana isn’t so harsh after all. Island Improvement and Nook Miles Tom Nook feels there is a predicament, there are 8 new members of the island ad they have nowhere to go, and they need housing, at least temporarily. They have no money to offer, so as leader of the island, he decides to make up a brand-new system of currency on the spot—Nook Miles. They will be rewarded for decorating and improving the island. In the meanwhile, Nook and everyone have to work hard building houses for the castaways. Meeting Everyone An episode where everyone interacts with each other, and everyone gets to know each other. The story of Furries An episode that tells the backstory of the furries, and lore of the furries. Pastell and Haku’s Mystery Island Tour Pastell and Haku win a Tour on a Mystery Island, and meet Audie, a stray wolf furry alone on an island. Pastell and Haku decide to invite Audie to Moondrop Island. Blathers and the Museum Blathers opens up his museum. Rhona’s marine life account of the island The chapter is told by Rhona’s point of view, as she converses with Blathers, dives in the ocean, fishes, is curious about Sly and Flo (an alligator and penguin furry respectively), and observes the rest of the characters going about their day. Luana’s chaotic account of the island Luana and Rhona decide to hang out. Rhona is down-to-earth and calm and collected. Luana is chaotic, wild, and a loose cannon. Luana always runs and scares the fish when Rhona is trying to catch it. Every. Single. Time. The Mysterious Mia Okuda Nico is a fan of Mia Okuda, the mysterious retired school idol with a frilly-gothic image, long black hair, and a deep, velvety voice. When Octavia first comes into Nico’s room, she sees a poster of Mia Okuda hanging on the wall. (Don’t ask why that was being sold in Nook’s Cranny. I know it makes no sense.) “This is one of my favorite idols.” Nico says. “She’s pretty obscure. You probably don’t know of her.” But what Nico doesn’t know that Mia Okuda is actually Octavia back in high school! Nico and drama Nico causes some drama. Teto thinks Octavia is a vampire Self-explanatory title. Bettina and Rodeo’s cooking show Bettina tries to put on a cooking show. Rodeo eats the ingredients. Shooting Stars There is a meteor shower one night. Everyone meets Celeste and watches shooting stars with her. The next morning, mysterious star fragments wash up on the beach. One fragment starts glowing and goes inside of Snowbell, Haku’s plush cat. Snowbell then comes to life, as a real cat. This is because Haku had wished that Snowbell could come alive. From then on, Snowbell is Haku’s pet. Teto’s birthday Teto celebrates her birthday on the island. The Tarantula Incident Nico is terrified of tarantulas. However, tarantulas unfortunately love her. Nico Yazawa has a huge cult following of tarantulas, as she is the most popular school idol in tarantula society... Nico and Luana also don’t get along at all at first. Nico is a total diva, and Luana is a total slob. Nico uses her Nook Mikes ticket at the same time as Luana, and they have to go to the same island. The island is infested with tarantulas everywhere. (Also, please don’t ask how they can do mystery island tours without a GPS, lol) Nico is terrified. The tarantulas however, adore Nico and want to get her autograph, so they climb on her. Nico screams for Luana to help her. Luana fearlessly pulls out her net and attempts to rescue Nico from the tarantulas by just catching all of them. However, the tarantulas see Luana as a threat and run up to her, biting her simultaneously and knocking her out with their poison. Nico faints from the shock (again), leaving her terrrifying tarantula fans to climb over her and steal her belongings as souvenirs. Nico and Luana are rescued and they go back home. Nico apologizes to Luana and thanks her for trying to save her, and they form a friendship from them on. However, Nico accidentally takes one tarantula back with her. She eventually ends up keeping him as a pet. His name is Terry and he can talk. He becomes like Nico’s sidekick and partner in crime. Nico looks to Terry for advice. Bunny Day Madness Zipper T. Bunny comes to the island and hides eggs everywhere. Madness ensues. Grumpy Vladimir Vladimir is grumpy because he’s small, cute, and pink, and nobody takes him seriously. Dreams of home Everyone becomes wistful and starts dreaming and reminiscing of home during a slow, rainy day. A somber, psychological episode to break the pace. Also we get to see Rhona cry. But not Luana, because she (allegedly) never cries. Octavia goes fishing Octavia is taken fishing by Rhona. Octavia only catches bass. (Gee, wonder why.) Wisp the ghost Everyone is doing a test of courage, when they stumble across a real ghost! However, the ghost is much more afraid of them than they are of it... The town tune panic Everyone fights over what the town tune should be. To compromise, everyone puts two notes of their favorite song and make a brand new song out of all their songs altogether. The end result song ends up sounding like a disaster. It gets stuck in the heads of everyone on the island and drives the population crazy. Bonus: Octavia’s backstory The first of the Bonus backstory chapters. We get to see Octavia in high school as Mia Okuda, and finally find out what event made her stop singing... (SPOILERS: It was because she was publically criticized and humiliated because “her voice was too deep for a teen idol’s.” Then she saw all the memes people made about her voice and became too ashamed to sing, or even listen to herself again for a long time.) Finding my voice again The black bass Octavia keeps in her house begins to talk one morning. It tells Octavia that it’s time. With a little help and guidance, the fish is determined to help Octavia find her voice and start singing again. Octavia is a mess at first, and at one point she becomes even more discouraged than before she started, convinced she lost the ability to sing forever, and now there’s even proof. She runs out of her house and sits on a bench, distraught. Flo comes up to her, in a good mood, offering half of her corn dog. Octavia can no longer hide her emotions and starts sobbing. When Flo asks what’s wrong, Octavia tells her everything. Flo ends up giving Octavia sage advice. “Each song is kinda like a journey. When you sing, just pretend you’re the heroine.” Octavia returns to her house, with a new determination inside her. She starts singing again, for the first time in eight years. Nico is walking outside. She’s feeling glum because her ice cream dropped in the pond, when she hears a powerful singing voice that’s undeniably the voice of one of her favorite idols... She runs straight into Octavia’s nearby house to tell her, “Oh my gosh! Mia Okuda is on the island! I hear her singing!” When Nico realizes Octavia was singing, the pieces finally click... Octavia was Mia Okuda all along! Nico faints dramatically and theatrically. Idol Madness With Nico realizing one of her favorite idols was on the island, she feels so tingly, but also overshadowed. Audie also wants to be an idol, so Nico already has competition. Not only that, but Haku is aiming to be some sort of musician of some kind. But she’s so shy that she doesn’t show her face much anyway. But with all the talent on the island, Tom Nook suggests everyone should share their talents in an upcoming talent show and dance party night! The Island’s Talent Show Dance Party Night! All day, everyone is getting ready and looking forward to the island’s big shiny event. Haku’s stage fright Haku has stage fright about performing her music. What is Pastell’s talent? Everyone on the island has such talent. Everyone has their music, Bettina can cook, and Sly can lift weights. Even Rodeo can eat five ice cream cones in under a minute... without getting brain freeze! It seems everyone on the island has some sort of talent... except for Pastell. Just what is Pastell’s hidden talent? Moondrop Fame With all the talent and recent development on Moondrop, word got out to K.K. Slider that the island was one to look out for... to the point where he called, scheduling an appearance! K.K. Slider’s Grand Appearance! K.K. Slider finally appears and gives a performance. Goodbye, Pekoe? Pekoe plans to move away from the island, back to her home with her old family...

#animal crossing #moondrop island #acnh #new horizons #animal Crossing New horizons #ac:nh #animal crossing: new horizons #nh #Life of pastell #my writing #ideas #brainstorm #fanfic #crossover #love live #love Live! #vocaloid #pastell sugar #haku yowane #teto kasane #rin hoshizora #nico yazawa #rhona aequor #luana kai #octavia scherzando #mia okuda

[fulcrumahsokaamidala]

Saturday Spectacular #13

Happy Saturday!!! So this is me thanking awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and all the time they put into their fics. ♥️ I want to recommend spectacular fanfic stories I read this week! ♥️ They are posted in the order I read them. All posts will be tagged #saturday spectacular fic rec

Dark Beauty by @oliversmuse | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Meet Dr. Oliver Queen, local psychiatrist who specializes in PTSD due to his own experiences. He has finally settled into a normal life and his practice is going well. Then one day in walks Felicity Smoak, local mob boss. She is looking to change her ways, to escape the violence and death that has been her reality for far too long. She wants to change but her business keeps dragging her back to that dark place she is trying to escape. Can Dr. Queen see the light inside of her and help her change her ways??

Of Shadows and Monsters by @thatmasquedgirl | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Before she became the Vengeance of Starling, Felicity Smoak was Felicity Kuttler. Then she picked up a sword. Snapshots from Felicity's life before she met Oliver. Potential spoilers if you haven't read as far as "Knife in a Gunfight." Rated M for a whole lot of violence and language. Title (and chapter titles) shamelessly taken from lyrics from Halsey's "Control."

AOSFicNet2 Challenge - July - A True Drabble by @lilsciencequeen | Agents of Shield | WIP

Summary: The drabbles (and double and triple drabbles) I wrote for the July AOSFicNet2 Challenge.

You Can’t Afford Him by @quiveringbunny | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Oliver and Felicity, still strained after returning from Lian Yu following the takedown of Slade Wilson, take on roles that challenge their buried feelings when they go undercover to investigate a dangerous arms dealer. A Macau casino. A luxury suite. Suspenders. Lucky red panties. What could go wrong?

The Hardest Part by @smoaking-greenarrow | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: What if Felicity found out she was pregnant with Lucas after Oliver left and she'd have to raise both of their kids without him. Then Oliver would come back five years later to check on his girls only to find Mia playing with a slightly younger boy who looks exactly like him.

"Time for a story” Drabble Series by @smkkbert | Arrow | WIP

Summary: This fic shows Olicity and their life as a (married) couple with family. Although Olicity (and their kids) are the protagonists, other characters of Arrow and Flash make appearances. It started as a drabble series, but developed more and more into a full domectic AU. Although some chapters are still drabble-like, there are longer storylines by now.

flower of the universe (child of mine) by @felicityollies | Arrow | One-Shot

Summary: a very quiet fourth of july with the smoak-queen family.

Providence by @so-caffeinated | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Will Queen has struggled in silence in the year since he was shot. But when a shadowy crime lord known as Domino targets the only woman Will’s ever truly loved, fate forces him to confront his demons in ways he never could have imagined… Whether he wants to or not. Amelia Prescott has fought to take control of her life since learning two years ago that her personal and professional worlds were manipulated by others. But nothing can prepare her for just how hard she’ll have to fight to set her own course, especially when her heart belongs to a damaged man and a crime lord threatens her every professional move… And her life. Destiny brings them together, but as chaos reigns and personal demons haunt Will and Amelia both, it may also threaten to tear them apart.

(i want to) save that light by @callistawolf | Arrow | Completed

Summary: What if one little thing changed in the history of Arrow? What if, instead of going to Laurel’s apartment after discovering the extent of Merlyn’s plans for the Glades, Oliver stayed at the foundry and talked to Felicity instead? This series of short vignettes explores some of the ripple-effect changes that could take place throughout the next season as a result of this one, fortuitous change.

an evening walk by @yespleasehawkeyee | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: On a peaceful, summer evening walk, Felicity and Oliver take stock on the most important thing to consider when living with ex-agents and soldiers. Have our neighbors tried to kill us?

gray henleys and fluffy purple socks by @alexiablackbriar13 | Arrow | Oneshot

Summary: Felicity and Oliver have taken to sharing their clothes recently since discovering she’s pregnant. Well - it’s not really sharing. It’s very one-sided and originating from Felicity, and it’s more stealing than anything else.

little wonders (twists and turns of fate) by @alexiablackbriar13 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Oliver and Felicity’s drunken mistake of a hook-up in the bunker comes with unexpected consequences in the form of a… souvenir. Deciding to remain romantically uninvolved, the two of them will have to battle all the trials and tribulations of maintaining a platonic relationship while Felicity is pregnant and the two of them are living together, coping with all the emotional baggage that they both bring to the table - and dealing with the fact that they are still very much in love with each other, but scarred by the events that broke them apart in the first place.

Liquid Courage by @oliversmuse | Arrow | Completed

Summary: Felicity has been upstairs at the bar drinking mimosa's when she decides to go back down to the lair and get her purse to head home for the night. Oliver and Diggle realize that she is tipsy so Oliver decides to take her home. However after Diggle leaves them alone Felicity says and does some things that she would never do sober and Oliver quickly finds that his feelings for his IT girl run deep.

ink stains and dumbbells by inlovewithimpossibility | Arrow | WIP

Summary: “Hey Dynasties, Oliver here coming at you with another video!”

“Hi guys, welcome back to Ghost Fox Goddess, I am Felicity Smoak.”

When one half of YouTube duo, Queen-Merlyn Dynasty, lands himself in hot water with Principal Wilson due to failing grades, Oliver knows that he needs to step up his game. The principal recommends a tutor but little does Oliver know that she’s also a successful YouTuber. The two of them set out on filming a collab but neither anticipates how popular their videos will be or the insane reaction the sight of the two of them on screen together will gain from the fans.

Mothers know best by @smkkbert​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Since they have been kids, they have been best friends. Since they have been friends, their mothers wanted them to be together. After coming back from the east coast, Felicity takes over a position at Queen Consolidated, the company her best friend will soon take over from his father. Their mothers still push for them to be together, and they seem closer to that goal than ever because wedding bells are ringing. The only problem is that they both plan to get married to someone else.

My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark by @tangled23works​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: This is a collection of scenes I've written but will probably never have the time to publish as part of a larger fic. Sometimes, there are stories that need to be told no matter how short they are. Anyway, each chapter is inspired by a song. Enjoy!

Workouts and Babbles by ElasticMonk | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Oliver comes to the rescue of one cute blonde at his gym just as Felicity stumbles upon one handsome mayor at her gym. They both have something in common, but will it bring them happiness?

Artemis by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When the Queen’s Gambit sank, two people were stranded on Lian Yu. Five years later, four came back.

Daughter of the Demon by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: What if in 1988 while traveling through Las Vegas Ra’s al Ghul bumps into a nice waitress named Donna Smoak and they have one-night stand together? A little bundle of joy named Felicity Smoak is the result. In 2014, the Demon Head becomes aware of his youngest daughter’s existence.

The Ravager by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Slade Wilson’s plan for revenge against Oliver took time, money and no shortage of lives to pull together. His plan didn’t anticipate Felicity Smoak. How will his plan change now that his lost-lost daughter is working with the very man he’s trying to destroy?

Felicity of Themiscyra by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Years ago, Donna Smoak left the island of Themiscyra and her sister Queen Hippolyta behind to live in man’s world. She never told Felicity the truth about where she came from. As a result of the Undertaking, Felicity discovers some of her Amazonian abilities and makes an interesting new friend: Diana Prince.

The Daughter That Was Left by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Before the Gambit, Oliver Queen met QC intern Felicity Smoak. When he boarded the Gambit, he left something behind. Now, five long years later someone is waiting for him.

I Scream But No Sound Comes out by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When Oliver returns from Lian Yu after five years, he comes back different. What happened there damaged more than just his body. How will his friends and family deal with this new Oliver?

Intruder Alert? by @alexiablackbriar13 | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Felicity arrives home late to the Smoak-Queen family cabin and for a moment, is scared somebody has broken in. She’s even more shocked to find Mia asleep on the couch with her apparent boyfriend Connor.

Paging Dr. Smoak by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When Oliver Queen gets into a car accident, he meets Dr. Felicity Smoak. He had no idea how much a chance meeting would change his life.

The Replacement by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Oliver has named Felicity the new head of Applied Sciences. The only thing standing between Felicity and her new role is finding her replacement as Oliver's Executive Assistant and a pesky peanut allergy.

Did I Forget to Mention That My Dad is a Supervillain? by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When Felicity told Oliver about her father, she wasn’t lying per se. She wasn’t completely honest either. It’s just that ‘my dad left us’ sounded better than the truth.

Or: A Series of one shots in which Felicity’s dad is a supervillain and we see how Oliver and the team finds out.

#saturday spectacular fic rec #weekly fic recs

[friking-awsom-kitten]

Sleeping beauty just need some coffee IASA Chapter 4

He gasped, sitting up in shock. However, something refrained him from getting enough air and was shoved up deep into his throat. He chocked and grasped whatever was blocking his airways, ripping it off. Suddenly he could breathe again and he took big gulps.

His eyes flitted around the room in a panic, not recognizing where he was. Something to his left caught his eye and he stared at the woman that had been checking a machine next to him.

The woman dropped what she was holding and screamed.

He screamed back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam had been staring out the window for a long time now. She didn't pay attention to whatever the teacher was saying. Few kids did.

Word of Danny had gotten around pretty fast and by the end of the first day everyone knew. It had been chaos.

Some people were angry and wanted to bill the Fentons for all the damage Danny's fights had gotten them. Some wanted to report the parents for child abuse. Most were furious at the GIW for disrespecting basic human rights and trying to capture a boy and were pestering the government to shut it down. The president, however, wouldn't back down, saying they were the best of the best at ghost science and this town needed them.

But almost everybody was grateful for Danny and all he'd done for the town.

A lot of people had visited him in the hospital. Including several of Sam's classmates.

They would also continuously ask the two friends questions.

About how it happened. If Danny's parents had known. Whether they got to fight ghosts too. Whether Danny would keep protecting the town or if he was ok.

Sam honestly didn't know. It had been two weeks. She'd never been more worried than she was now. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense, though. He had been exhausted. Physically and mentally. He was probably on the bridge of collapsing anyways and that blast must have depleted his energy reserves.

She sighed and glanced towards Tucker, who was staring at his phone. The device was turned off and pushed far away on the table, but the boy didn't take his eyes off of it.

All of a sudden, a sharp ring interrupted the teacher. Everyone jumped a bit in their seats and they turned to look at Tucker, who was scrambling to pick up his phone and putting it on his ear.

"Yes? For real?!" Tucker's eyes widened and he looked at Sam. "He's awake!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They burst in the hospital room. They had memorized the way long before and could walk from the receptionist to the ICU wing in their sleep.

Their eyes immediately fell on the small family in the corner.

Maddie looked about ready to cry and Jack was standing still with furrowed eyebrows. It was not a sight Tucker and Sam had expected to see.

The cause of all this grief was sitting up on his bed with a frustrated expression. He didn't have a breathing mask on anymore and the IV had been removed.

"Danny!" Sam cheered and sprang forward to hug him. He tensed under her hug and she frowned, letting go. "Danny?"

The boy huffed, looking incredibly uncomfortable. "So I've been told. Who are you?"

She was so perplexed her arms went slack. Tucker sucked in a gasp and they both turned to the doctor that had been standing next to them. He cleared his throat. "Yes. Daniel seems to suffer from Amnesia. From what you have told me and what we discovered, this was caused by a combination of sleep deprivation, malnutrition, and recent stress. The severe concussion he recently got sealed it. It affected his hippocampus." The doctor stopped reading from his paper and looked Danny over before continuing. "From what I have gathered up to now, he seems to only be affected on the explicit memory, meaning the memory of the places and the times and the people. Or the who, what, where, when and why. However, the implicit seems normal, thankfully."

"The what?" Tucker breathed out, barely able to form words as he tried to understand everything happening.

"That means the skills he has learned. He can walk, talk, breathe, and all the motoric functions he has learned throughout his life, as well as riding a bike or reading. However, I'm not sure whether his semantic memory is damaged. This is the common knowledge. For example the days of the month. Or when his birthday is. The damage on that may vary."

The raven gave an exasperated sigh. "If you go through that explanation one more time I'm gonna give myself another concussion."

"Well," Tucker smiled weakly, even though tears were threatening to fall, "he didn't change personality-wise."

The other boy grinned. "He did say I still have the skills I learned. Must have practiced my sass a lot because I'm a pro."

Sam snorted. "Yeah. You did." She turned to the doctor. "But they will come back, right? This isn't permanent?"

For the first time, the doctor's face fell. "I- we aren't sure. Retrograde amnesia, which is what this condition is called, doesn't have a cure, but there are some ways to coach old memories to come back. Most patients remember their oldest memories, but Danny doesn't seem to even have that. If he does regain some memories, it will most likely be from early childhood. However, we can't be sure. It could get better, worse, or stay like this for the rest of his life." He looked at the pale faces in the room and smiled encouragingly. "But I don't think it will get worse given that this was a brain injury, first and foremost."

He nodded towards the parents. "Before I run a blood test and prescribe anything, I need some questions answered." He took out a list and a pen. "Did Daniel take medications? Any past health problems? For example seizures or strokes or infections? Did he take drugs?" He crossed over every time they shook their heads or wrote down when they mentioned something about a panic attack or how he had had an accident in the portal.

The doctor shook his head. This kid was a walking medical catastrophe. It was no wonder he ended up with amnesia. He sighed and put his papers down. "I'll send for a drug test and he'll have an MRI scan. After that he will have to stay in the hospital for a few more days until he is fully healed. Daniel, will you let us put back the IV?"

Danny scrunched his nose. "Ugh why. I'm awake now. I just need some food. Do you guys have some fries?"

"We'll get you appropriate food after the IV is back on. Your body is still short on nutrients."

"Please, Danny." Maddie begged. "The sack also has some ectoplasm. It will help you heal faster. You will be able to get out of here sooner."

Danny pursed his lips. This woman claimed to be his mom, and let me tell you how weird it is to not even remember your own mother. He wasn't even sure if he could trust these people. They could be lying to him for all he knew. But he had no other option. Besides, that woman gave him a comforting vibe. He smiled at her unconsciously and nodded. "Alright, but the second I'm out I want pancakes."

All the medical procedures had been run and the doctor had decided Danny would stay two more days before he could go home. All Danny's injuries had been healed during his coma. He claimed nothing hurt and only complained about getting food. Something nobody was surprised about. The boy hadn't eaten normal food in weeks. What they were surprised about was that he was so restless. He should be tired. In fact, he should still be unconscious. But nobody was about to complain about that.

What Danny really wanted was a bath. He felt dirty and gross. He was horrified to learn he'd been washed during his slumber and couldn't look at any nurse in the eye after that.

However, he felt especially uncomfortable when groups of strangers walked through the door and grinned at him and gave him presents and took pictures.

He glanced at the table next to him. It was simply covered in 'thank you' and 'get well' notes and some kind of merchandise. He had also gotten many pictures and drawings, but they were so confusing he couldn't figure heads or tails of it. On the other side were also some balloons and a few stuffed animals and to top it off, all around him were flowers.

I must have been some kind of celebrity, Danny thought. But why were they thanking him?

A girl suddenly burst through the doors and tackled the poor boy. He let out a yelp and she let go just as fast as she'd latched on and started rambling.

"I'm so sorry. I came as soon as I heard and then the plane was delayed and I first had to arrange a short vacation and I had to finish this assignment and they wouldn't let me go saying you weren't in danger of death and they said 'Alright, you can go, but if you don't get that degree it's on you' and I swear I was about to strangle them."

Danny couldn't understand what she was talking about so he took the time to inspect her. She had long brownish-red hair and he could honestly see the resemblance to his apparent mother. This must be Jasmine, his older sister.

The girl seemed to catch on that Danny wasn't responding and she paused, looking at him good for the first time. They stared at each other in silence for some time, taking in the other sibling.

Jasmine held out her hand and smiled. "Hello. My name is Jasmine, but you can call me Jazz. I'm sorry about just now. I was a bit worried."

Danny blinked in surprise. Why was she introducing herself? She must know he had amnesia. He grinned. It felt nice to know at least someone didn't come asking him if he knew them or expecting something from him. He shook her hand. "I don't think I need to introduce myself since you probably know me better than I do. You're my sister, right?"

Her smile brightened and he silently congratulated himself. "Yes. I'm two years older. So I'm nineteen and you're gonna be seventeen in Oktober 27. It's July 13 today. I just came from college."

Danny smiled softly, grateful for all the information she was giving him. He felt awkward having to ask such simple things. "Are you in the first year?"

She nodded. "I'm studying creative therapy. To put it simply, it's a kind of therapy for people who can't put their problems into words so instead do it with their hands. The therapist then can study their movements and results to see how they think and how to help them. There are many types and I'm doing a mix between drama and art."

She continued talking and Danny listened. He learned so much. She told him all about her and her life and her friends and even what recently happened in college. It was as if they were catching up on old times.

She didn't mention anything about Danny, or what he used to do or what they did together and he was grateful for that. It would have felt like she was telling him what he should have done and he would've felt obligated. It was an insane thought, given that all that had happened in the past, but he didn't want people telling him who he was.

They talked for hours. Mostly she was the one speaking, but Danny often put in his opinion or input in something and she would laugh.

At one point, a violet-eyed girl and a dark-skinned boy walked in and joined them. Danny remembered them as the two people who were there when he woke up. He tensed a bit, but they just greeted him and sat down. They said some words to Jazz and turned to look at him.

The boy wiped his hands on his pants and cleared his throat, but at a look from Jazz he smiled at Danny. "Hey, man. I don't think we told you our names. I'm Tucker Foley and that's Sam Manson."

Danny nodded towards them, but frowned at the girl. "Are your eyes naturally purple?"

Sam rolled said eyes as Tucker laughed. "No." She admitted. "They're blue. I got these contact lenses from my grandmother. She didn't want them to go to waste."

Tucker laughed some more. "Her grandmom used to be really rebellious as a teen. She saw potential in Sam," he told Danny and so the conversation went into flow again.

Sam and Tucker telling Danny about themselves and complaining a bit about school. They also told him how they met.

Apparently, Danny had known these people for practically all his life. Since kindergarten. That was a weird thought.

Jazz had glared at them for bringing that up but Danny sighed. "It's ok, Jazz. I'm gonna get this a lot from now on."

Sam winced. "Sorry. Just thought you'd want some background information. If there's something you don't like talking about we won't. Just tell us, alright?"

Danny shrugged. "That's just the thing, Sam. I don't know anything about anything. Everyone expects me to know all kinds of stuff and then it's just gonna get awkward." He huffed, frowning. "Whatever. It doesn't matter. I'll just figure out what my life is now."

Jazz grinned, beaming proudly. "That's the way to look at it, Danny. Just start off fresh."

Except that wasn't entirely possible. The moment Danny was admitted out of the hospital he knew his life was way weirder than he had thought at first.

When he was let out there was a crowd waving him off and cheering and he got a green sock thrown at him so that was a nice way to enter the world fresh.

Then there was the house he apparently lived in.

He honestly had no idea what to say about that. It looked like aliens had infiltrated earth and were doing a terrible job at laying low.

He sighed, ignoring all the paparazzi and following the two adults inside. It was much better inside. It was very clean. As if it had been prepared for his arrival. That just made him feel more guilty.

Maddie and Jack were grinning at him as they gave him a tour of the house. Maddie more nervously, while Jack was excited.

The first and second story were pretty normal. On the first was the kitchen and the living room. Then upstairs were all the bedrooms. Danny paused in what was apparently his room. It looked pretty clean and neat. He must have been either a perfectionist or his mom had tidied it up for him. He was gonna go with the second one.

Finally, he was shown the basement and the op Center, which is what they called the UFO on the house. The UFO looked exactly how Danny imagined a UFO would look like. It was huge and had a lot of wires. Somewhere something was beeping, but he couldn't figure out what.

Then the basement. Danny shivered as soon as he entered. He saw millions of weird machines and guns and a milkshake maker he decided not to trust. The name Fenton appeared everywhere. Like a logo.

Then there was a door at the other side of the room. It had a beethemed pattern as if warning people of toxins. Danny felt like he should put on a face mask or something to protect himself. His father was wearing some type of protective suit.

"What do you do for a living," he asked, exasperated.

"We're ghost hunters!" Jack grinned, leaving Danny with a baffled expression.

"Why do you hunt ghosts?" He asked, stumped and curious. The part about ghosts didn't surprise him much. It felt as normal as the fact birds were chirping outside.

Jack's expression fell and he exchanged a look with Maddie. "Well son." He started cautiously. "We're ghost scientists. We have been studying them for years. We sometimes catch one to learn more about them from up close."

"Like they're animals." Danny frowned and his parents grimaced.

"They're not all sentient, Danny." It was Maddie who said this. "And Amity park has been haunted by ghosts for years. Most of them attacked and destroyed."

"Well maybe most of them just stayed home minding their own business and the ones that did mean bad came here so we don't see the other side of their world."

To his surprise Maddie smiled softly. "Yes. You may be right."

They didn't tell him much about the things in the basement. In fact it was the shortest they had been in a room and they practically shoved him back up the stairs.

They stayed in the living and talked a bit and Maddie went to the kitchen to cook some dinner because it was already pretty late in the afternoon. Danny had a foreboding feeling. Probably because how Jazz paled and sent him a few scared looks.

Danny stood up and followed his mother to see her fumbling around the fridge, trying to find something that didn't try to bite her hand off. "Hey?" Danny started, unsure if this would be seen as impolite. "Do you want me to help you cook dinner?"

The woman brightened considerably as she slammed the fridge shut and smiled at him. "Are you sure? I mean. Yes, I would love it if you did this with me."

Danny nodded and rolled his sleeves up before washing his hands. Maddie's eyes widened when she realized she'd forgotten to do that.

"So what are we making?"

Maddie scrunched her face. "I'm not sure yet, Danny. There isn't much left that is edible."

"Where do you keep all the food?" Her boy's eyes searched the small kitchen and she remembered he had forgotten all of that.

She pointed out the fridge and a few cabinets and he looked through them, bringing out many types of ingredients and selecting a few out. He asked for the pots and the pans and she pointed it out. He asked for herbs and she showed him. He asked her anything and she gave him the answer, watching in amusement as he fell right into his element.

Maddie settled back a bit as she saw him swiftly cut some carrots and dump them in the pot. She smiled. It had been a long time ago that Danny had taken the job of a cook in this house. Given that no one had any insight in it or kept mixing the sauce with the wrong chemical (what do you mean chemicals aren't supposed to go in food?). The raven had looked up recipes or he would cook ready-made food.

He'd started simple and after a while started mixing in his own stuff and experimenting. He had loved it. Maddie had let him drop a few chores so he would have time to prepare and make dinner. He would write a list of groceries and tape it on the fridge and Jack would go buy it.

In fact, Maddie could see the last note he had written still on the top left of the refrigerator. Her eyes watered a bit.

"Are you ok?"

She wiped her eyes and nodded. "Just that onion you were cutting just now. It's fine. Go ahead. You're doing a great job." She smiled. "Anything else you need?"

He shook his head as he flipped some pieces of meat on the sizzling pan. "Well, not for now. There are no more potatoes. And when was the last time you refilled the salt? And I had to use something else instead of the paprika because that's all done too. And you got way too much beef. How are you going to eat it all before it expires."

Maddie's smile turned nostalgic as she saw all he listed right now written on the little sticky note on the fridge. "We usually don't," she told him, earning herself a look of disgust.

Finally, the dinner was ready and they all say down to eat. Each family member congratulating the boy on the excellent food and what would they do without him. They didn't mention how they'd barely survived the two weeks he'd been absent.

Jazz was just in college, but Jack and Maddie had to constantly order pizza or eat in a restaurant every night. Even something as making some toast was always a hassle. Not only because the toaster sometimes malfunctioned and threw up the bread so hard it stuck on the ceiling, but Maddie was also very sure bread shouldn't be green.

Now they had Danny back. Everything had changed. Just....everything.

But he was back.

They talked a bit more. Danny asked about the many drawings they'd had to carry back home along with the rest of the presents. Who was that man on the drawings that looked to be made by kids ranging from three to fifteen?

Jack looked excited to tell him something, but Jazz had shushed them. She smiled at Danny reassuringly. "How about we talk about that tomorrow. You have enough to think on right now." She stacked the empty plates and brought them to the sink. "You heard the doctor. Get some rest. I'll do the dishes. Don't worry about school yet. You have a few weeks to recuperate and get used to life."

Danny looked at each of the people in the room, taking in their appearance and demeanor. If this was his family, no matter how crazy, he loved it. He smiled and turned around, bidding them a good night.

He walked up the stairs and paused, trying to remember where his room was.

He had a small moment of panic when he couldn't recall right away. What if he forgot more things? What if he forgot whatever he did today? What if the doctor was wrong and my amnesia isn't just of whatever happened before the concussion and I'll keep forget- oh wait his door was the one in the left hall.

He sighed in relief when his assumption was proved correct as the door opened. He closed it behind him and took a good look around.

The walls were white, but they had been covered in many posters about some kind of egg band or about a Doom. He wasn't sure. There were also some NASA posters and the wall next to his desk had a big board covered in pictures. There was a blackhaired boy with Sam and Tucker. A lot of those actually. And some about random places Danny had no clue about.

But his eyes wandered to that boy again. Was that...him?

He hadn't looked in the mirror yet. It was strange. Not knowing what you looked like.

Was that really him?

He found a mirror next to the dresser and the closet. It was large. It could fit his whole upper body and a bit of his legs.

He paused before taking a peek. A pit in his stomach and a bit of adrenaline made him jump forward and stare at the boy in the mirror.

He looked a bit older than in those pictures. But he still has black hair, blue eyes, a small nose and smallish eyes and thin lips and fat cheeks and freckles. Although he felt better knowing he had a bit of a jawline and the baby fat was less than in the pictures. His hair was also longer. And it was messy. Probably hadn't been brushed in weeks. Even if they had washed it, as they said, it still looked greasy and dirty.

He didn't feel like doing much of his appearance right now.

He wanted to explore.

He put to the side the pile of presents his father had dumped in his room after having brought it from the hospital and went rummaging through his room.

He opened every drawer, looked at every piece of clothing and squinted under every piece of furniture and he learned a bit about his past self.

He didn't have much variety in clothing. It was mostly T-shirts, jeans and sweaters. There was one neat suit shoved in the back, though.

He had some kind of obsession with stars.

Same thing goes for ghosts. There was even a map in his dresser. Along with a long list of names and some kind of description behind them.

He looked in the bathroom, which he had found he had right in his room. He found a first aid kit shoved under the sink, which he found odd. The rest was just normal supplies for in the shower.

But for the rest, his old life was still a mystery to him. Danny wondered if he would ever gain it back. Had he always been this famous? Wasn't it exhausting? And why had everyone been thanking him?

He suddenly wondered where his phone was. He should have one right? He'll ask his mother tomorrow.

But he really wanted to look up amnesia on the internet.

His eyes fell on a beat up laptop and he tried to turn it on, but it had a password. The hint wasn't even helpful. It just said 'bitch' and Danny honestly felt attacked and offended.

He plopped down on the bed with a deep sigh.

Everyone told him to get rest, but that was the last thing he wanted to do. He felt so energetic and restless. He didn't think that should be normal. He was pretty sure patients just coming out of comatose shouldn't feel rested.

Sigh, just one more thing he wanted to look up on the internet.

He also wanted to know how he went into a coma.

The doctor had vaguely mentioned a concussion or another kind of head injury. Must have been bad. He'd also made it pretty clear Danny was up long before anyone had thought he would be.

Maybe if I had slept for a bit longer, Danny thought, I would have been able to keep my memories.

He groaned quietly. Nothing made sense. Life was a weird jumble of gibberish and with every piece of information he made out it just became even weirder.

He lifted his arm to look at one picture he found he liked. A white haired anime man was standing with hands on his hips and a cape fluttering behind him. Sparkles had been thrown around as well as glitter that had been glued on.

There wasn't a note or anything, just a boy's name. Joey. Along with a small drawing of a dinosaur that Danny didn't think had anything to do with the rest.

That same anime boy turned up everywhere. On the balloons. On the plushies. On the shirt he'd gotten. On the posters the poeple seeing him off from the hospital were holding.

Who was that dude??

And what did Danny have to do with him??

Danny stood up and walked towards the mirror again. He cocked one hip as he put his hands on them and frowned at the image.

"Who are you?" He asked the boy with exasperation. "And just how crazy is your life?"

#danny phantom #danny fenton #amnesiac!Danny #jack fenton #maddie fenton #jazz fenton #ghosts #ghost zone #why do i keep tagging it with so much

[tessatechaitea]

The Extremist #3

I'm disappointed that this half picture doesn't match up exactly with the half picture from Issue #2.

It's probably good I didn't post any of the blurbs that tried to bribe him with a handjob in the backroom of the Portland Comic-con.

Anyway, let's see what happened in "July, Nineteen Ninety-Three"! I'll try to baby it up so Tumblr doesn't shit its diapers.

Peter Milligan begins this issue all Peter Milligany.

Remember that this was written in 1993 when Peter Milligan makes mention of how a person could, at some point, be alone in anything. But also imagine now how the death of an intimate would go in 2019. Back in 1993, Judy is surprised to find that she's whisked away from her grief for long interludes by the bureaucratic machinations of a death in a capitalist democracy. This same kind of thing probably still happens except with more texts and emails and less phone conversations and driving to speak to people in person. But also imagine the non-bureaucratic side of death. We probably have far less close intimate contacts in our physical space now than we had in 1993, at least by percentage when compared with all people we would consider contacts (intimates who now live in another part of the world, people we know only from online, friends of friends we've maybe met once but now sometimes interact with over social media). In 1993. it would be phone calls and personal visits with flowers and cake or cookies. In 2019, you probably receive a deluge of crying emojis and people replying "*hugs*" to your post about your world crumbling beneath you as you try to stagger on with your remaining years bereft of the person you thought you could never live without. I suppose there are plenty of apps where people could send you cakes and cookies so I suppose it wouldn't be too terrible. Should I create an app that sends cakes and cookies to people when they've lost a loved one? It wouldn't cost anything. You'd just have to send me a small cake and some cookies with every use of the app! I can't wait to get extraordinarily fat! The journey is going to be so worth it!

Grief is a savory, selfish feast.

Peter Milligan has a way of expressing potent, terrible truths in such a casual manner that most people probably don't even notice them. There's an almost expressible power in believing you're experiencing something that nobody else has or will ever experience. Or just in knowing that you lived a part of your life unknown to your closest friends and family. I cherish, greedily, the moments of my life spent alone and far from those closest to me and I parcel them out as stories in only the most meager of manners. Hell, I've probably told more about myself and my experiences here on this blog exactly because I know my friends and family don't read it. I might say this every commentary until this series is over but I still don't know if I understand the point of the overall plot. But I do understand that the plot is a way for Peter Milligan to be Peter Milligan. I understand the need for a framework to say things you want to say. Or to just put scenes out there that you don't want to bother encasing in some kind of larger whole that you're less interested in. So here's another scene Peter Milligan had to have thought about and then needed a place to mention it:

Of course people still get horny for their dead partner! But how often does anybody talk about it?! Maybe it's common and I'm just consuming the wrong kinds of media. Alex Trebek never once asked a contestant if they jerk off thinking about their dead spouse!

Netflix's Dead to Me has some pretty frank discussions about the loss of a spouse but while Christina Applegate talks about being horny and wanting to fuck somebody, I don't think she ever says she masturbates thinking about her dead husband. If the point of this story is about dealing with loss, I'm beginning to get it. And that would completely explain why I missed it at twenty-one. I'm only three pages into this issue and it's kicking me in the face with existential issues. Was I too dumb at twenty-one to understand any of this or just too sheltered to really feel it? Maybe I was just too fucking young. Judy finds the key to Jack's Extremist apartment. After looking around the place, she thinks, "It was like having Jack die all over again, but this death seemed more profound. 'I never knew you,' I thought." It's an easy statement to point out that nobody ever really knows anybody. But once, because Jim Starling wrote a terrible run on Stormwatch, I wrote an entire rant about how we all hide our innermost dark secrets from even the greatest loves of our lives. I was essentially asking how can we know anyone if we won't even let those closest to us know our most vulnerable thoughts and terrible crimes (I don't mean crimes in the law and order sense! I just mean like that time you put your finger in your ass and then made sandwiches for your friends and they all got sick and you didn't do it on purpose but you made the connection and nobody must ever fucking know! You know, those kinds of crimes. But not that specific one! I totally just made that one up for effect). So I could repeat myself or just link to the rant or just (and — Spoiler! — this is the choice I'm going with!) move on to page five of this comic book. Judy discovers an old diary written by The Extremist (but not Jack!). Then she finds some of the tapes he burned and salvages a few. She hears Jack speaking about murder and getting pissed on and, most appallingly, calling her "poor dull dead little Judy." She smashes the place up, finds The Extremist's gimp suit, and tries it on thinking, "What the fuck?! Maybe I'll feel sexy and start speaking in sex metaphors!" Then the phone rings. And I suppose the rest is history! And by history, I mean Issue #1! Except I'm only on page seven so maybe I'm jumping the gun. I guess we need to learn how Judy met Patrick and why she decided her life would be better by going out at night murdering people until she comes hard in a leather suit. Oh, I hope that last sentence wasn't too adult for Tumblr! A bunch of pages are taken up by the plot stuff that I apparently paid the most attention to in 1993 and which is the least interesting part of the story (so far!). Patrick "accidentally" runs into Judy and he pretends he doesn't know who killed Jack. He offers to help her find out if she'll pose as The Extremist and do murders and blow jobs for him. Judy is all, "What the hell! Maybe I'll understand Jack a little more! Maybe I'll know why he needed a boring piece of shit like me when he was having such fantastic fuck and murder adventures!" No wait. That's what I would say. Judy just wants to find out who killed Jack and to, maybe, feel a little closer to him. I don't think she's as amped up as I would be about the loads of indiscriminate sex and murdering of the most perverse perverts. The main story ends with Judy making her first kill. She learns that her problem was that she was always living in the past and the future. So even if she had wanted to kill somebody in the moment before, she'd be all tangled up in the past and whether the person deserved it and maybe some of it was her fault and perhaps she's been too hasty with her murder decision. And she'd also be lost in the future like how the person will stop existing and how she might wind up in prison and how the victim's guts are going to be hell to clean up off the floor. But in the moment, she can just satisfy the need without consequence or conscience! She discovers it's a thrill! Well, I could have told her that! I've been playing Dungeons and Dragons since I was ten! Never worry about what the orc did or if it deserved it or if it has family or if you're actually the asshole raiding its lovely home! The actual issue ends with Tony, the black guy on the stoop, sitting in The Extremist's apartment listening to Judy's tapes. He's just finished the last one where she says she's going off to kill Patrick and he's completely caught up in the drama. He wants to know who killed who just as badly as, well, not me but I'm sure some readers were on the edge of their seat at this point. The Extremist #3 Rating: B. I don't find myself caring about the framework. But Peter Milligan has thoughts and those thoughts are well worth the admission price to this story. In a way, this is just an extension of his run on Shade the Changing Man. It's almost the same story if you squint your eyes and unfocus your vision and punch yourself in the genitals. Patrick is the guy on Meta who was pulling the strings to get Shade to go into the Area of Madness and eventually Earth (I forget his name! I bet it was Patrick!) And The Extremist is Shade and Kathy too (they both have similarities to both Judy and Jack, so I don't mean to say either Shade or Kathy is essentially one or the other). The Extremist has crazy missions where they kill and fuck just like Shade and Kathy had! I think. I mean, probably! And Tony is just Lenny in someway that I haven't spent any time thinking about but they were the only characters left!

#The Extremist #Peter Milligan #Ted McKeever #DC Comics #DC #Vertigo

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

chapter 11.5 -- okay, 12, it’s chapter 12, fine, fine. I should stop trying to predict how long my chapters will be. I’m always wrong. the Fae AU keeps escaping all my predictions. it’s fine. it’s cool. 

[Beginning] [Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

It is not, as Apollo expects, the worst road trip he has ever been a part of. Trucy likes to sing along to the radio – she has a surprisingly good voice – which stops Clay from starting up his usual road trip tradition of bellowing out “Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall” and seeing how much he can get through before someone slaps him. Trucy claimed shotgun, as “the woman with the magic map”, meaning Apollo is shunted to the back with Ema, who upends her bag on the floor to pull from it a jumbo-sized pack of Snackoos and offer a handful to him.

“None for us?” Clay asks, pouting in the rearview mirror.

“Backseat privileges,” Ema replies.

Trucy cranks the radio up as a familiar guitar riff begins.

If it’s extortion, it works; she and Clay have not finished the first verse, Trucy’s almost-operatic interpretation running up against Clay’s off-key warbling, before Ema is shoving the Snackoos up between their seats, offering a trade of chocolates for an end to the car-vibrating force of Guilty Love.

“Not a fan?” Clay asks.

Ema groans. So does Trucy. “Don’t get me started,” Ema says.

“Yeah, please don’t,” Trucy adds.

“He’s a pretentious fuckin’ diva who—”

Trucy begins yelling out the chorus to the song over the second verse emitting from the radio.

They are all still arguing – Ema berating Clay’s taste in music while Trucy moves into an attempt to sing My Boyfriend is the Prosecution’s Witness to the tune of Guilty Love and Apollo tries to turn the volatile atmosphere anywhere else – when the song ends. Trucy shushes everyone, violently, smacking Clay on the arm and then flailing back at Ema, and turns up the radio. A DJ is in the middle of saying something.

“—announced today on their social media. While fans are disappointed, no one can say that the break-up comes as a surprise, after the sentencing of guitarist Daryan Crescend for murder in July, and the three months of, ahem, radio silence that’s followed. And earlier this week, leader singer Klavier Gavin’s brother was indicted on a second count of murder – I can’t say I blame him for maybe wanting to duck out of the spotlight. Gavin’s brother was previously charged in April, for—”

Trucy changes the channel. A commercial for a local furniture outlet doesn’t help break the awkward spell fallen over them. “Yeah,” she says, after a full minute, during which time they discover their new channel is a country music channel. “No real surprise.”

“Brother and bandmate,” Clay says quietly. “Hell of a year.”

“Hell of a six months,” Apollo says. And he was there for all of it – he was there for more of it than Klavier ever was. Klavier wasn’t there in April, not when Kristoph fell, not when any of them could have had any idea what was ahead. How much magic would surround them.

“If my older sister had been convicted of murder, I was gonna crawl into the dirt and die,” Ema says, “so I’m with the fop on that one, actually.”

There is a worrying lack of hypotheticals in the second half of Ema’s scenario. No “would have”s. Like she was where Klavier is, but the trial had a different outcome, and the frozen expression on her face, her eyes gone blank, she looks like she has caught up with her own words. Said too much. Apollo doesn’t know much about her as a person, her life before failing the forensics exam, how it was that she knew Mr Wright, but he can sympathize with that fear of having given away too much, turned the conversation down a path that should stay blocked off.

“You have a sister?” Trucy asks, turning around in her seat. “You seemed kinda ‘only-child’ to me.’ “Yeah,” Ema says quietly. “Older sister. Her name’s Lana. We don’t… talk much.”

Apollo doesn’t know why the name feels like it strikes something in his brain, the way Ema’s did when she first introduced herself.

“Oh.” Trucy visibly wilts. “Sorry.”

Ema shrugs, slumping back against her seat, her arms folded. “It happens,” she says. Her eyes are glazed over, settled in Clay’s direction. Her mouth quirks in the beginnings of a smile. “She took me to the Space Museum once, not long after it first opened.” The wistful smile has grown a little larger. “Back when I didn’t know what kind of scientist I wanted to be, so I wanted to go everywhere, and she was like ‘Ema I’m not taking you to the fucking tar pits again, how about space?’, and—” She shakes her head. “Sorry. Your jacket got me thinking. Do you work there or something?”

And that is the question that Clay most likes to be asked, that or literally anything else ever about space, and that is the end of any of them getting a word in edgewise – but while Apollo’s heard it all before, Trucy has questions galore, and Ema sits forward, slowly losing the pretense of not being enraptured.

-

They have driven for over two hours by the time Trucy directs them to pull of the highway at an exit that tells them there is nothing for them that way but another 38 miles until Kurain Village. “Is that where the Fair Folk live?” Ema asks dryly, in her voice none of the nervousness that people tend to have. Apollo hasn’t spoken much with her about magic, doesn’t know what she thinks – but, well, she knows Phoenix. That’s clue enough that caution comes secondary.

“Not really,” Trucy says. “They just named it that. It’s part of our world. Sometimes some of the fae do show up and hang around, I think – Maya tried to convince Daddy to move out here, once, apparently, but he wouldn’t leave the office.”

“Who’s Maya?” Apollo asks. Sometimes he realizes how little he knows about Phoenix’s personal life, too.

“Daddy’s friend. She’s – wait, stop! Here! Turn down this road here!”

“This is not a road,” Clay says, hunching over the steering wheel. “This is some dirt, off the road, not even in the shape of a dirt road.”

The car groans as Clay turns it off of the asphalt into the dirt. Trucy pops open the door and stands, holding herself between the door and the car roof and turning her face to the sky and the no-longer-distant mountains looming above them. She says something, muffled, and points into the trees. “We’re close,” she says, ducking back inside the car. “Let’s park and go – we’re close.”

“Park right here?” Clay asks, raising a doubtful eyebrow.

“Barely anyone comes this way,” Trucy says. “Like, one bus, except I’m not even sure if this is on its route. It’s fine.”

“I’m more worried that this is some sort of sacred ground that we’re stomping on,” Clay says, but he turns the key and then smacks his head against the top of the wheel. “How much are we going to regret just walking out there?”

“Probably we won’t,” Trucy says. She flings the door open and jumps out, stretching her arms up into the air. “C’mon already!”

“So what are we doing now?” Ema asks, crumpling the Snackoos bag back into her bag and tumbling forth from the car like a liquid spilled. “Just walking into the woods until we find treasure or a bear?”

“We do have a map.” Trucy waves it at her. “But yes. That’s what we’re doing.” She lowers the page halfway to her side and then stops, tilting her head back. “I’ve been here before,” she says. “Grandpappy and I – sometime – sometime after my mom died.” She takes a few slow steps toward the treeline, her movements uneven, as in a daze. “It was just the two of us. And we came here, and we buried—” She spins around, eyes wide, looking at all and none of them. “We buried his grimoire.”

Without another word of warning, she dashes into the woods, sending them scrambling to catch up to her. It’s colder here than in the city, though Apollo didn’t think they went up too far in elevation. Leaves thickly coat the ground; do they hide rings of flowers beneath them or do those in their magic break through? They finally reach Trucy when she, focused on her map, walks straight into a tree and takes some time to properly reorient herself.

“Do you know why here, of all places?” Apollo asks. “Is it because of the mountains, and he was…?”

He stops. Does Trucy know what her grandfather was? Phoenix didn’t say. Of course he didn’t.

“He said this is where he landed,” Trucy replies, crunching a leaf beneath her foot. “He said he fell, and this is where he landed.”

“Was he—” Clay’s sense, that question that they all know they shouldn’t ask, that question that Apollo has asked again and again anyway, wars against curiosity, against more than wanting to know – needing to know, to understand what is Trucy’s family. “Was he, erm, one of – Them?”

He can’t even bring himself to offer up one of the epithets. This close to the mountains, Apollo isn’t sure that he could bring himself to speak of them plainly like he has learned to.

“Yeah,” Trucy says. “But I’m human. Don’t worry.” She flashes a grin, one of her usual grins, but it is tempered by the speed with which is vanishes from her face again, replaced by a frown of concentration. “I think we must be close, but not quite yet.”

“Hey, Trucy?” Ema asks. She pushes a branch out of the way and it snaps back to nearly strike Clay in the face. “Not to pry, but – if your grandfather was one of the Fair Folk, are you the changeling, or was it your mother?”

Trucy stops.

“Wait,” Ema says. “Not a changeling – that’s the fae child. The human kid, the one swapped out. Is there a word for that?”

“I don’t think so,” Trucy says. She hops over a log. “I don’t think there’s a name for people like that.”

She doesn’t answer the first question. Maybe she doesn’t know, either.

“When you say you buried it,” Apollo says, aware that there is nothing subtle about this lifeline he is throwing to pull her away from questions best left avoided (am I a child stolen away, raised by the fae? Did they take me from the life I should have had?), “have we come all this way to be foiled for want of a shovel?”

“Oh fuck,” Trucy says.

“Hey!” Ema barks, her sharp rebuke the manifestation of that urge Apollo feels to scold her for that. “Language, young missy!” She folds her arms across her chest, her glare a fond one. “Where did you learn that?”

“My daddy’s a card shark,” Trucy says, countering Ema with a smug grin of her own.

“I thought he was a piano player,” Clay says.

“Only because you’ve never heard him play,” Trucy replies. “Easy mistake to make.”

“Considering it was all magic that hid the map,” Ema says, with nary a pause to acclimate everyone to the idea of throwing the conversation back past that latest sharp turn, “wouldn’t it be magic to hide it again, logically speaking?”

“Where’s the logic here?” Clay asks. Ema snaps a twig off a bush and flicks it at him. “And I mean, if it’s just covered up with some illusion, couldn’t anyone stumble into it?”

“Maybe it takes the map, too,” Apollo says. “Or maybe only a Gramarye can unveil it.”

He steps up onto a tree stump, like the extra five inches can grant him some kind of special insight or a better view in the forest of brown. Then he is falling, the wood rot giving way beneath his foot, a sharp jolt running up his leg from the twist of his foot. “Shit!”

Trucy winces. “Ouch. Poor Polly. I—”

“Apollo,” Ema says, very seriously, but somewhat muffled by her hand over her mouth. “Move. Move right now.”

“What?” He sits up, dislodging his foot from the stump, and looks about himself. The forest floor of dead leaves has cleared, as though by a strong, concentrated wind, revealing browned dead grass encased by a perfect circle of blue flowers. “Oh. Oh shit.”

Without an ounce of grace, still on his hands and knees, he scrambles and rolls his way out of the faery ring. “So according to the map,” Trucy says, and above his head Apollo hears the flutter of the paper, “I think we found it.”

“Only a Gramarye, huh,” Clay says dryly.

“That was only supposition!”

“So who’s gonna stick their hand in a rotten tree stump?” Ema asks, producing a flashlight from her bag and shining the beam down into it. “I volunteer Trucy, because she’s wearing gloves, and is our Gramarye.”

Trucy kicks up the leaves on her approach, searching for hints of another ring around the stump, more than just Apollo’s that sits adjacent to it. “If I get bit by a squirrel and get rabies and die, it’s your fault,” she says, kneeling down next to the stump and brushing her hair back to peer down into it.

“Statistically, your chance of getting rabies from a squirrel is negligible,” Ema says. “That shouldn’t be your worry.”

“What should I worry about, then?” Trucy asks. “Can you bring the light a little closer?”

“Bats, racoons, foxes, feral cats and dogs, and right now, probably non-rabies Fair Folk curses, since we’re fucking around by a ring.”

“I’m still concerned about bears,” Clay says.

“I’m not,” Ema says. “I’ve already got my plan, which is to trip you into its path.”

“General ‘you’, or me, specifically?”

“You specifically. Nothing personal, though. I just know Trucy and Apollo better than you.”

“This is way heavier than I thought,” Trucy says, falling off-balance and dropping something dark and rectangular. “Oof! Okay. Okay. We got it!” She lifts it up onto her knees, a thick book with a black cover and a character emblazoned in flowing purple script on it. “I knew I remembered this.” Her voice is quieter as she opens the book and flips through the rough-edged pages. “Grandpappy’s grimoire.” She closes the cover again, reverently, and keeps it balanced on her legs as she turns back to the stump. “Light again, please. I thought I saw something else.” Trucy has her head nearly in the hole, which can’t help her with her light situation, and she sits back and plunges her hand in again. “Yep! This is a – a funny-looking magatama?”

She holds it up, the blue stone sparkling in the flashlight beam, but also seemingly with its own interior glow, and Apollo gasps.

Three sets of eyes turn to him.

“That’s a mitamah,” he says, and to his own ears he sounds like he’s choking, but he feels like he’s choking too, and maybe the others don’t notice but he doubts it. “That’s someone’s soul.”

Trucy drops it into the leaves.

“What?” Clay looks suspicious – Trucy looks horrified. “How do you know?”

(“There’s no reason to give away your soul,” Dhurke told them, sternly, the sternest he ever got. “Never.” And then they tried to argue, to come up with reasons, because of course they did, and he hugged them both close. “You’ll make great lawyers someday, always looking for reasons and other ways, but this one – promise me. Nahyuta. Apollo.” He prodded each of them in the chest. “Don’t let someone else get their hands on your soul.”)

“The tail of it is different.” Apollo picks it up, brushing off the dirt and leaf particles that cling to it, and points to the longer, squiggling protrusion that extends from the loop. It doesn’t fully connect like a magatama, either, more like a hook than a circle.

It feels warm in his hand, humming through his fingers and up into his ears. It reminds him of the office – familiar, but disturbing, because there is no reason that it should feel so familiar and comforting.

“Could it be your grandfather’s?” Ema asks.

“Wouldn’t that mean he’s still alive?” Clay asks. “Is that possible?”

“It couldn’t be,” Apollo says. If he stares at the mitamah he thinks he can see flecks of gold within the blue, like stars on a constellation chart. “The Fair Folk don’t have souls like we do. They can’t sell them or manifest them like this.”

“Is that why they want human souls?” Ema asks.

“How do you know?” Clay repeats.

Apollo’s heart has stoppered up his throat.

“It makes them stronger,” Trucy says softly. “When they buy names, or souls, it makes their magic stronger. But this – this can’t be that.” She hugs the grimoire up to her chest. “It can’t just be that.”

“Should we just… put it back?” Ema asks. “Someone’s probably looking for it, right?”

“It’s been seven years and no one has come before us,” Apollo says. The humming isn’t as steady now, seems more like a song, and familiar, damned familiar. “No, we can’t just leave her here.”

In the silence, even the song seems to stop. “What?” Apollo asks. Their three sets of eyes are on him again, even more piercing, Trucy’s wide and Clay’s narrowed and Ema’s narrowing too.

“‘Her’?” Ema repeats. “Why ‘her’?”

“I…” Apollo swallows his heart. “I don’t know, but I… I know?”

“I don’t think you should be holding that in your bare hands,” Clay says.

But the alternative seems to be dropping her in the dirt again, and Apollo’s fingers curl tighter around the stone. He can’t do that, either. Trucy unties her scarf from around her neck and silently passes it to him, letting him wrap the stone up in the red fabric and then cradle it close again. The song thrumming in his ears ceases. “I guess we should take it to Mr Wright and ask him if he knows what to do,” Ema says. “He’ll know what to do with it. Her?”

Trucy’s gaze is unfocused, her head slowly drifting away from the horizon back toward the stump. “Trucy?” Apollo asks. “Are you okay?”

“He wouldn’t do that,” she says. “Just buy up someone’s soul all for himself. He wouldn’t. There had to be some other reason. It wasn’t just power, there had to be a good reason.”

(“There’s no reason,” Dhurke said. “Never.”)

“He gave me magic, as a gift,” Trucy says. “He was a good man.” She looks up at Apollo, blinking her blue eyes furiously. “Wasn’t he?”

-

It takes them another forty-five minutes to stumble out of the woods and find Clay’s car again. Ema makes everyone nervous talking about the odds of them stumbling across a body decomposing in the undergrowth – “I have zero desire to ever get caught up in one of your murder investigations,” Clay says, picking up a branch from the bushes and brandishing it like a baseball bat – and bears. The two of them are at least doing a good job of filling the silence left by Trucy, uncomfortably quiet, walking in a trace. Apollo tugs her by the arm out of the way of trees. He could put the mitamah in his pocket but hasn’t, has kept it held close to his chest.

The story that Phoenix spun of the Gramaryes is gnawing at him. A woman, on the bad end of a deal with Magnifi – Apollo doesn’t want to think about the possibility.

(Trucy must be thinking about the possibility, mustn’t she?)

She crawls into the back seat of the car, depositing the grimoire in the middle, and Ema makes a mad dash for the front seat, leaving Apollo to sit on the other side of the grimoire, separated by it from Trucy. The only time she speaks is to call Phoenix and ask him if he is at the office – he is, because she directs Clay to go back to the office.

It is a long, quiet ride home, some subdued conversation between Ema and Clay about their fields of science rising over the country music still on the radio. Trucy taps Apollo’s hand and beckons him to hand her the mitamah. She takes off one of her gloves and weighs it in her hand with an ever-deepening frown until she wraps it back up and passes it back to Apollo.

Ema shouts “Yellow car!” and hits Clay on the shoulder. He hits her back and tells her that she needs to specify no punch-backs next time.

-

Phoenix is sitting on the floor leaning against the couch with two notebooks and a stack of papers spread out in front of him, the coffee table shoved to the side, a pencil in his mouth and another tucked behind his ear, when they stagger into the office. Apollo is mediating an argument about the merits of Eldoon’s for a late lunch – Ema does not want to brave it, while Clay wants nothing more than to do so. Phoenix does not look up.

“Hey, Daddy,” Trucy says wearily.

His head snaps up, dislodging the pencil behind his ear. “What’s wrong?”

“You always complain about your back hurting, and now look what you’re doing.” Trucy’s words sound forced through a smile. Phoenix’s frown deepens. He watches Trucy walk past him to deposit the grimoire on his desk.

“We went looking into the envelope you gave her the other day,” Apollo says. “The real last page.”

Phoenix doesn’t look back from Trucy right away. “A full expedition team, huh?” he asks, raising one eyebrow as he looks over Ema and Clay. “Who’s this?”

“Er, oh, yeah. I’m Clay Terran. Apollo’s roommate.” Clay points with his thumb at Apollo, even though they all know there is only one Apollo that they know. “You’re Mr Wright, yeah?” He doesn’t do a good job of feigning enthusiasm.

“I know that look,” Phoenix says, standing with a wince and an audible crack of some of his joints. “That’s the ‘I’ve heard about you and it’s nothing good’ look.” He lets Clay splutter for a full two seconds before he grins crookedly and adds, “That’s fair.” Almost immediately, his expression flattens out to something stern and almost entirely foreign. “Trucy,” he calls. “What’s wrong?”

“We found my grandfather’s grimoire,” she says, sitting on the desk and holding it up, only for it to slip from her hands and crash to the floor. “And Polly has the other thing that was with it.”

Apollo unwraps the mitamah.

Has he ever seen Phoenix surprised? The man spent seven years an unbeaten poker player, and this past half-year absolutely inscrutable to Apollo’s eyes. There is nothing controlled in his reaction; his mouth falls open and his eyes go wide, turning blue immediately and staying blue, horror apparent in how they linger on the mitamah. “Oh,” he breathes. “That is – yeah.”

He reaches forward with trembling hands and scoops up the scarf spread across Apollo’s hands. He holds it cradled close, too, his free hand cupped beneath the one holding it, prepared to catch the stone should it slip, but still not having touched it with bare skin. “So,” he says. “The ‘source’ of Magnifi’s magic – that grimoire, and this soul.”

“But,” Trucy says, “that…” She stops. She chews on the inside of her cheek. Mr Hat, the wisp, is visible, bobbing frenetically around her shoulders. “It’s…” Her shoulders slump. “Do you know what to do with that, Daddy? Is there a way to know what person a soul belongs to?”

“Not from looking only at the mitamah,” Phoenix answers. His eyes still hollow blue when he turns them back to Trucy. “I am not particularly familiar with mitamahs, honestly, but I’ll look into it and see what I can do to get it back to her.” He takes the stone in one hand and offers Trucy her scarf back. “If the fae who has possession of a soul is still alive, they can just give it back – not that many are willing to, mind – but since he’s dead – well.” He shakes his head. “Thank you, though. For helping Trucy, and bringing this back.”

It’s a firm end to the conversation, not that Apollo knows what more to ask about a soul. Ema, though, is frowning, her arms crossed, her mouth twisting like she is puzzling out something. “We were gonna go get noodles at Eldoon’s,” Apollo says. “If – if you wanted to come, Trucy.”

“Oh!” She looks surprised, like she hadn’t expected to be addressed. “Um.” Her heels bounce against the desk. “Thanks, but I’m okay.”

Her hands, curled around the edge of the desk, shine red. Apollo doesn’t even need that to know she’s lying.

-

“We all agree she’s not okay, right?” Clay asks.

They were silent for a block down from the office, Ema not even complaining about losing the Eldoon’s battle. (Apollo was prepared to tell her that she didn’t have to come, but she had attached herself to them without a cursory protest.)

“Definitely not,” Ema says. “I guess she doesn’t want to believe that her grandfather was the double-dealing type of Folk – which, I’ve read the case file on his death, I’d believe that about him in a hot second. There’s nothing worse than a blackmailer like that. Also.” She plants herself firmly in the sidewalk. Apollo and Clay both bump into her. “None of us referred to the mitamah as ‘she’ or ‘her’, right? Like you were, Apollo.”

“None of us but Trucy even talked about it,” Apollo says. Clay nods. “Why?”

“Because Mr Wright did.” Ema’s forehead creases. “He said he would ‘get it back to her’. He wasn’t even touching it, was he?” Apollo shrugs. Ema shrugs too. “He knows something. More than he said.”

“He always does,” Apollo says.

They reach Eldoon’s, and Ema says that it’s weird to see the stand without a corpse attached. The look that Clay gives her makes her and Apollo both laugh. Once they have their noodles, they walk another few blocks to People Park and find a bench not far from where the noodle-stand crime scene once stood. Apollo has learned to be grateful for the mouthfuls of broth that taste of so much salt to sting. It feels a little more like safety, like salt across a doorway.

He starts to say what he’s thinking, that Trucy might be worried that the mitamah is her mother’s, or at least he is, but the words die on his tongue, shriveled by the salt. He doesn’t feel right to tell Clay and Ema about Trucy’s mother’s death, when he has no idea if Trucy knows or not. Phoenix has made him the guardian of family secrets that aren’t his and something about that feels wrong. Maybe necessary in some way, to understand the case, to understand what happened with Kristoph, but still wrong.

Instead, he helps Ema explain to Clay her earlier comments about Magnifi and blackmail. You can’t refuse, and we both know the reason why – Trucy can’t know he did that. She seemed to idolize him. What a hard way to fall.

He’ll text her tomorrow, Apollo decides. Check in, see how she’s doing.

(There’s probably someone else he should check in with, too, the events of this week all considered.)

#fic: the seelie of kurain #roddy fanfics #start your morning with some magic and gramarye fuckery wooooooooooo